He
finally found her in front of the multiplex, four girls waiting in line and
chattering away. She was a short, slight
girl, with dyed blonde hair in a ponytail.
She was dressed in what Merrick was sure was both expensive and
fashionable clothes, but which to him was gaudy and far too sexual for such a
young girl. And she was young. He was surprised at how young she looked,
despite knowing all that he did about her.
It saddened him greatly to have to thrust her into the war. She had not had the lifetime’s training that
many of the other Potentials had. Even
if she had begun to have the dreams, the lives of previous Slayers running
through her mind, it would not be enough for her fight and live through her
encounter with a vampire.
Yet she
would have to fight, even if she was not ready.
She was the Chosen One and there was so little time. Evil was already in Los Angeles. And so he would had have to give Buffy what
training he could, in the time that he had, and then hope like hell that it was
enough.
Heart
pounding, his throat dry, he walked up to Buffy and made to introduce
himself. Yet before he could get a word
out, Buffy looked up and smiled upon seeing him. She ran over to Merrick and then hugged
him. The breath rushed out of his body,
as the great strength that was part of the gifts given to the Chosen One was
used to crush his ribs.
“Uncle
Merry!” cried Buffy. Merrick could not
even feel indignant at that, as he felt his internal organs liquefy under the
force of Buffy’s hug. Mercifully, Buffy
let go and turned back to her friends.
“Guys, this is my Uncle Merry.
Uncle Merry, these are the guys.”
“Hi,”
said Buffy’s friends, each trying to hold back a giggle at Merrick’s
expense.
“Listen,
I know that we were going to watch a movie, but I have to catch up with my
uncle, all right? I’ll see you guys
later. Ciao!”
With a
wave of her hands, Buffy sped away from her friends, towing Merrick behind
her. It wasn’t until they had turned a
corner that Buffy let go of Merrick’s hand and they slowed down enough to
talk. When Merrick looked at her now,
Buffy’s entire demeanor had changed.
Instead of a vapid, spoiled teenager, he instead saw a girl of great
strength and determination. All of the
potential that he had known was within her he saw manifest in her gaze.
“Let’s
save some time, okay? Me, Slayer. You, Watcher.
Vampires are real and it’s my job to kill them,” said Buffy grimly. “Oh, also, there’s no time. That about cover it?”
“Urm,”
said Merrick. “Yes, that about does
it. How did you . . . the dreams. You’ve been having the dreams.”
“Yeah,
let’s go with that,” said Buffy. “You’re
right that there’s no time. You have no
idea how right you are. But before we
can start anything, I need to go home first.
Where’d you park your car?”
Buffy
led Merrick out of the mall and to the parking lot, quickly weaving her way
through the crowds as if they were not even there. Merrick suspected that she could have done so
before she gained the abilities that came with being a Slayer. He had to walk quickly to keep up with her,
and could not help bumping people as he passed.
The
only thing Buffy said to Merrick as they walked was, “You know, if we had the
time, I would totally go ‘Queer Eye’ on you.
We’re in a mall, and you definitely need new clothes.”
Merrick
looked down at himself—a black suit and tie, black button down, and leather shoes
suitable for walking in both alleys and cemeteries. It was the same as what he’d worn, for the
most part, since the Seventies. And what
in the world was ‘Queer Eye’? Teenagers
and their slang. Bah.
He had
to admit to being out of breath by the time they’d reached his car. Buffy’s only comment was that she was shocked
that it could pass a smog check. Merrick
said nothing, only patted his 1976 Dodge Dart police package affectionately. If there was one thing that being in Southern
California was good for, it was making it much easier to find replacement parts
for his car.
“Okay,
so I’m assuming you know how to get to my house? Good, we’re going to need to pick up some
things and I have to leave my parents a note,” said Buffy as she buckled herself
into the passenger seat. “Also, what
gear do you have on hand?”
Merrick
spent a few moments cataloguing materiel, most of it of the sharp and pointy
variety. She seemed utterly
disinterested in the training equipment, saying only that training would come
later. He had not had time to unpack, so
all of it was in his trunk. It was hell
on mileage and his car’s suspension. He
had been planning on offloading all of it to a suitable training area, perhaps
an abandoned warehouse or factory, but it seemed that his Slayer had other
ideas.
“You do
need training. You may feel invincible,
but you can only go so far with the inherent strength and reflexes that your
Slayer abilities give you. Even the
skills you witnessed in the dreams are not truly yours, not until you have
trained your body to do what your mind commands,” said Merrick. He was glad that Buffy was taking her
responsibilities so seriously, but he also knew that overconfidence led to the
death of many a Chosen One.
“Like I
said, it’ll have to come later. There’s
just no time,” said Buffy.
finally found her in front of the multiplex, four girls waiting in line and
chattering away. She was a short, slight
girl, with dyed blonde hair in a ponytail.
She was dressed in what Merrick was sure was both expensive and
fashionable clothes, but which to him was gaudy and far too sexual for such a
young girl. And she was young. He was surprised at how young she looked,
despite knowing all that he did about her.
It saddened him greatly to have to thrust her into the war. She had not had the lifetime’s training that
many of the other Potentials had. Even
if she had begun to have the dreams, the lives of previous Slayers running
through her mind, it would not be enough for her fight and live through her
encounter with a vampire.
Yet she
would have to fight, even if she was not ready.
She was the Chosen One and there was so little time. Evil was already in Los Angeles. And so he would had have to give Buffy what
training he could, in the time that he had, and then hope like hell that it was
enough.
Heart
pounding, his throat dry, he walked up to Buffy and made to introduce
himself. Yet before he could get a word
out, Buffy looked up and smiled upon seeing him. She ran over to Merrick and then hugged
him. The breath rushed out of his body,
as the great strength that was part of the gifts given to the Chosen One was
used to crush his ribs.
“Uncle
Merry!” cried Buffy. Merrick could not
even feel indignant at that, as he felt his internal organs liquefy under the
force of Buffy’s hug. Mercifully, Buffy
let go and turned back to her friends.
“Guys, this is my Uncle Merry.
Uncle Merry, these are the guys.”
“Hi,”
said Buffy’s friends, each trying to hold back a giggle at Merrick’s
expense.
“Listen,
I know that we were going to watch a movie, but I have to catch up with my
uncle, all right? I’ll see you guys
later. Ciao!”
With a
wave of her hands, Buffy sped away from her friends, towing Merrick behind
her. It wasn’t until they had turned a
corner that Buffy let go of Merrick’s hand and they slowed down enough to
talk. When Merrick looked at her now,
Buffy’s entire demeanor had changed.
Instead of a vapid, spoiled teenager, he instead saw a girl of great
strength and determination. All of the
potential that he had known was within her he saw manifest in her gaze.
“Let’s
save some time, okay? Me, Slayer. You, Watcher.
Vampires are real and it’s my job to kill them,” said Buffy grimly. “Oh, also, there’s no time. That about cover it?”
“Urm,”
said Merrick. “Yes, that about does
it. How did you . . . the dreams. You’ve been having the dreams.”
“Yeah,
let’s go with that,” said Buffy. “You’re
right that there’s no time. You have no
idea how right you are. But before we
can start anything, I need to go home first.
Where’d you park your car?”
Buffy
led Merrick out of the mall and to the parking lot, quickly weaving her way
through the crowds as if they were not even there. Merrick suspected that she could have done so
before she gained the abilities that came with being a Slayer. He had to walk quickly to keep up with her,
and could not help bumping people as he passed.
The
only thing Buffy said to Merrick as they walked was, “You know, if we had the
time, I would totally go ‘Queer Eye’ on you.
We’re in a mall, and you definitely need new clothes.”
Merrick
looked down at himself—a black suit and tie, black button down, and leather shoes
suitable for walking in both alleys and cemeteries. It was the same as what he’d worn, for the
most part, since the Seventies. And what
in the world was ‘Queer Eye’? Teenagers
and their slang. Bah.
He had
to admit to being out of breath by the time they’d reached his car. Buffy’s only comment was that she was shocked
that it could pass a smog check. Merrick
said nothing, only patted his 1976 Dodge Dart police package affectionately. If there was one thing that being in Southern
California was good for, it was making it much easier to find replacement parts
for his car.
“Okay,
so I’m assuming you know how to get to my house? Good, we’re going to need to pick up some
things and I have to leave my parents a note,” said Buffy as she buckled herself
into the passenger seat. “Also, what
gear do you have on hand?”
Merrick
spent a few moments cataloguing materiel, most of it of the sharp and pointy
variety. She seemed utterly
disinterested in the training equipment, saying only that training would come
later. He had not had time to unpack, so
all of it was in his trunk. It was hell
on mileage and his car’s suspension. He
had been planning on offloading all of it to a suitable training area, perhaps
an abandoned warehouse or factory, but it seemed that his Slayer had other
ideas.
“You do
need training. You may feel invincible,
but you can only go so far with the inherent strength and reflexes that your
Slayer abilities give you. Even the
skills you witnessed in the dreams are not truly yours, not until you have
trained your body to do what your mind commands,” said Merrick. He was glad that Buffy was taking her
responsibilities so seriously, but he also knew that overconfidence led to the
death of many a Chosen One.
“Like I
said, it’ll have to come later. There’s
just no time,” said Buffy.