"Excuse me, lady, but this is not for a 'cup of Joe'. I don't know what swill you're drinking, but I -"
"Xander, shut up. You're supposed to be ignoring me. It's fine." It sucked talking to two people at once, especially when he couldn't see one of them and was so used to talking to the air, he forgot he had to make eye contact when there were eyes to connect with.
Hey now, let's not get distracted. But if you wanna turn your head a little -
"I was talking to Gwen. I was telling her it was okay. There's nothing to worry about." Then, finally remembering to turn to her, he repeated, "It's fine. Everything's safe." So far. "Nothing I can't handle."
Turn.
"You turn."
Can't. I'm tired. Hit my limit.
Those words hit him like his fist had slammed into his gut. And he knew what that felt like, so it was an easy comparison to make. Keeping a calm, collected face for the rest of the world to see - even if no one else bought, it still made things seem better - he carefully and levelly asked, "What do you mean you're 'tired'?"
I've been talking all day. That last sentence? The one where I was about to explain the difference between ground shit and the glory that is a latte, the juice of the gods made for mortal man? That's it for a while. I'm sleepy.
"Except for the part of you that's ready to fight."
About that... Perking up, Xander added, Coffee would help.
"Are you just making this up so you can get your damn fix? I told you we'd stop at your stupid Starbucks on the way back!"
And I told you to turn. There was a feeble twitch of Alex's eyes, guiding him to an alley that came just before the last building on the block. Across the street was Roasters. It was impossible for Xander to want to turn back now, not when practically inches kept him away from his 'liquid gold' - Coffee's brown, genius. It's bronze. Or copper. It depends on what kind you get. Sometimes -
"I know what you drink," he snapped. "What's down there?"
One guy.
"Only one?"
From what I can see.
Good. Only one. He'd taken one on before. He'd be great. Giving his arms a shake and exhaling, he said boldly, "I have to -" He turned his head to face her. "I have to take care of something. In the alley. Back there." They were walking past it now. "Wait for me at the corner. I'll be right back."
I'm psyched for this.
"And - uh... don't... follow me. This'll take two seconds. Two."
Go, go, go, go, go.
So Alex stepped away from her, giving her a sturdy look to make sure she knew to stay away - she could handle herself for a minute and he didn't see anyone else around her, not that Xander felt like filling him in if he hadn't - and then walked briskly to the alley's mouth, trying not to break into anything faster than a very light jog.
"You know, you're not making this 'let's get coffee tomorrow morning' thing very easy," he said. "You should've picked a better day."
Are you crazy? This is perfect! We grab a few guys, kick a little ass, snap a neck or two -
"I don't know how to snap a neck and you're too tired to try."
Yeah, I know you can't snap one. I was there.
That'd been one of the most traumatic nights he'd lived through, next to the first time he-but-not-really-he had punched himself in the face. Which Xander had decided to do before introducing himself. He'd thought it was hysterical.
"Shut up and tell me where he is. I shouldn't be doing this for you," Alex said. "The one thing you're good for and you wasted your energy talking about coffee."
Fuck you, man! It's not a waste if -
"Where is he?" Alex couldn't see anyone. The alley was bare. A dumpster to one side, cardboard boxes to the other, and then nothing but dirt as far as he could tell. Maybe they were hiding in plain sight again.
Turn.
Or maybe they were behind him - holy shit - where the hell did he come from - the same spot Xander had thrown his fist at before was pummeled again. Stunned, he stepped deeper into the alley and landed close enough to the dumpster to lean on it.
Here's an idea: when he hits you, don't get hit.
"Why don't you do this, then?"
M'sleepy. You'll be fine.
This wasn't an Agent! This was some... bar bum, or something. He smelled awful and his ragged coat slapped against Alex's face as ninja-hobo dropped him to the ground with a swipe to the back of his knees. Alex fell hard as the shock of the blow traveled up his legs. This was unbelievable. The exact same body, the exact same strength, and Xander would dance around this guy like he was on crack. Why the hell couldn't he?
How many times do I have to call you a bitch before you understand what I'm talking about? Alex took another shot to his thigh. Ah, ha. The ol' charliehorse. That's gonna be fun to limp around with.
He was glad Xander took the time to fight him so often, otherwise this would be a lot worse than it was.
I think she's waiting for you. Y'wanna wrap it up?
Yes. Yes, he did.
The ragged man with the ruffled beard and the wild eyes and the gaunt face had Alex kneeling on the ground with one hand pressed against the dumpster to keep his weak balance. The hobo lifted up his foot, preparing for a final kick to what he could guess was going to be Alex's knee, but the idiot didn't know what he was up against. His eyes burned. Both of their eyes burned. That bridge was formed as they locked onto each other, and with a push, Alex forced his enemy's mind into a frenzy. That'd be enough to knock him unconscious, which -
More force. More power. In less than a second, Xander had upped the dose and killed him. It was sad that Alex was so used to this kind of thing that his main concern was whether or not his jeans had ripped.
"An Agent, huh?" He got up, made sure he could walk, then took a practise step forward. "Yeah. He really looks the part."
Mike something. Ex-Agent. Formerly a part of our case, Xander said, very matter-of-factly. I guess this explains why we're getting rushed. He must've found us and called in the troops.
"'Formerly'?" He frowned. "He retired to become a bum?"
He got kicked out for 'bad behaviour', mostly 'cause he snapped with jealousy. If things turned out the way he wanted, it'd be him in here. He paused. I think he thinks you're me. I'm insulted.
... Wait - he'd never heard about this.
"You never actually explained how you appeared," Alex said. "I just... woke up with you."
Yup. Look for a wallet, will ya? Dude owes me a mocha.
"I'm not robbing the dead," Alex said. "I'm going to back to Gwen. And you're gonna tell me what -"
S'cool. I'll check.
And then Alex was hunched over the body, rifling through its pockets.
"Great. So now you have energy."
One second, one second... Awesome. Spare change. Hey - thirty bucks! Maybe I'll pay for you.
"Really?"
Hell no. This means 'two for Xander'. Back to the hot chick, please. And keep looking around. I wasn't kidding about the other Agents. Current ones, I mean, not psychos like Mike. Or Joseph. Or Benoit, for that matter. Damn - a lot of people hate me.
"Hate you? Poppycock."
Ha, ha, ha... Cock.
Six years. For six years, he'd been lugging this guy around. Now he wanted to almost-explain himself? Did Gwen just naturally have this effect on people or was it 'everyone say everything' day?
Whatever. He walked out of the alley, determined to pick this up later, after he finished brush the dirt off his knees and checking up her. At least if anyone came across Mr. Ex-Agent - which he felt much less guilty for disposing of than if he'd been a real homeless man - they'd have no choice but to chalk it up to natural causes. A perk, he guessed, of frying minds.
Thirty free bucks. Good golly, I wonder what I'm gonna buy.