Articulation 2/15
Jan. 11th, 2007 03:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
allyndraOooh, don't you wanna know what happens after Xan leaves the pub?
Xander's attention had been focused on Harry and the pictures they'd been looking at, so he wasn't sure what had drawn his attention to the door. Once he was looking in that direction, though, he sure as hell knew what kept his attention there. "Oh, shit!" he breathed. Harry looked at him oddly. Well, too bad. Stopping the pair of Yorlin demons at the door from killing all the happy lushes in the bar was more important than keeping the good opinion of someone he'd just met. Xander stood quickly.
"You know what? I've got to go. I just realized I need to be somewhere...elsewhere...immediately. Nice to meet you, though." Xander turned to leave, then paused for a moment and snatched a salt shaker off the bar before maneuvering off through the crowd. He looked around, fearing the demons had entered the pub, but they were still lurking at the door, peering inside. Maybe they were looking for someone in particular. Xander searched his mind for anyone he might have pissed off enough to set Yorlins on him. Nothing. Either he was way more annoying than he thought, or they were after someone else.
No matter. His Scooby duties were clear, even if his Watcher's Council duties were a little fuzzy. Xander finally reached the door. The Yorlins looked at him with hungry interest in their bright purple eyes, but stepped out of his way. Yep, they were definitely after someone inside. It looked like time for a distraction.
Instead of slipping past the demons, Xander shoved them roughly. "Move," he barked. Yorlins were big with the macho; they wouldn't let him get away with that. Both demons stumbled, then turned to Xander with a growl.
"You guys are way predictable, you know," Xander taunted. "Hunt, kill, growl. Maybe you should try something new. I hear karaoke is big with some demons." Xander backed away from the demons, dodging when they got too close, leading them into the street and away from the innocent by-sitters in the pub.
Suddenly one of the demons lunged at him, black claws extended. Xander was ready for it, and ducked aside. He backed up a bit more as he surreptitiously unscrewed the top to the salt shaker. The next time a Yorlin leapt for the human, it was met with a handful of salt in its face. Xander swiveled and threw another handful of salt at the second demon. Both screamed, scrabbling at their faces with sharp claws. They collapsed to the ground, their screams muted to moans. Soon, even those stopped, their clawed hands falling from their faces. Xander leaned cautiously over them, satisfied to see the light fading from the violet eyes.
"I guess I should be glad you guys never learned about protective face masks," Xander sighed as he turned away. He ran a hand through his hair, then froze as someone moved into his range of vision. Harry from the pub had been watching from the shadows. Well, damn.
***
Harry had been confused by Xander's behavior only until he's seen the Yorlin demons. Then he had stopped being confused and started being angry. Even when he was minding his own business in muggle London, the blasted Death Eaters had to send their assassins. He was disappointed that Xander was working with them. The American had seemed a lot nicer than the usual evil minions he ran into. But there he went, leaving to avoid injury and possibly to point Harry out to the demons.
Harry snorted. He wasn't stupid enough to just sit and wait for the attack. He drew his wand and slipped through the crowd, trying to hide behind other pub patrons. Maybe he could get close before they spotted him. It might cut down on collateral damage, if nothing else. When he got to the door, he was perplexed by the lack of demon assassins waiting for him. 'What kind of demon assassins leave without killing their target?' he thought.
Noise in the street drew him out of the pub. The Yorlins he expected to see, but he hadn't expected Xander to still be with them. 'Mental. You don't stick around to watch the hit, idiot!' Harry thought. But as he watched, he saw that Xander was most definitely not working with the demons.
The American was dodging and weaving as two snarling demons tried to maul him. He didn't move like a confused victim, just trying to escape. He moved like a seasoned fighter, manipulating his opponents as he looked for an opening. Harry was impressed. He was even more impressed a moment later when Xander threw something - 'A potion? A powder?' - at the demons. Whatever he threw was effective, felling both attackers almost instantly.
Harry took a moment to reallign his perceptions. This man obviously wasn't your average muggle. He studied the man for clues about his true identity. As the tall Californian leaned forward to taunt the fallen demons, Harry saw a familiar shape outlined against his clothes. Xander had something tucked into the back of his pants. Something about a foot long, which tapered at one end. Harry felt a surge of relief wash over him. He stepped forward into the light.
"I thought you were a muggle!" he said.
***
'A muggle?' Xander was confused by the apparent gibberish. He suddenly flashed on a night of watching musicals with Buffy and Willow, singing "Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?" The memory made him smile, but it didn't clear anything up.
"My British English isn't so hot. Giles told me about lorries and braces and biscuits, but nothing about muggles. Care to translate?"
"Oh, I see," Harry replied, looking thoughtful. "I hadn't realised there was such a language gap. What *do* you call braces?"
It seemed Xander had met a man as easily distracted as he was. He smiled. "Suspenders." He looked at the demon bodies on the street and realized he needed to arrange for disposal. It was only luck that no one had happened by already. "Look, I'm not really into a trans-Atlantic language lesson at the moment. Is it important if I'm a muggle or not?"
"Of course it's important! A muggle is a non-magical person. Someone who isn't a wizard. So you can see why that's important." And indeed, the earnest expression on Harry's face made it seem quite important. Xander almost hated to burst his bubble. Didn't mean he wouldn't do it, though.
"So 'muggle' is the British word for a person with no magical or supernatural ability?" Harry nodded. "Then that's me. Xan, Xan the Muggle Man. I always thought I was just the ordinary one. I never knew there was a word for it. Don't I feel special now?"
***
Harry was gobsmacked. 'What have I done?' He'd had it drilled into him from the time he'd entered the wizarding world that he needed to preserve the secret of its existence from muggles. This had only been stressed more after he'd blown up Aunt Marge all those years ago. Since entering Auror training, he'd learned more about muggle intolerance than he'd ever wanted to know. And what had he done with that knowledge? Gone and blabbed about magic to the first muggle he met.
He took a deep breath. He hadn't actually said much. This wasn't a disaster. Harry could fix it. He looked at Xander, who was still smiling at him, humor lighting his brown eye. It was too bad. He'd liked this man, and had felt linked to him by the men they'd both lost. But rules were rules. Harry lifted the wand he still held and pointed it at the American.
"Obliviate!"
"You know what? I've got to go. I just realized I need to be somewhere...elsewhere...immediately. Nice to meet you, though." Xander turned to leave, then paused for a moment and snatched a salt shaker off the bar before maneuvering off through the crowd. He looked around, fearing the demons had entered the pub, but they were still lurking at the door, peering inside. Maybe they were looking for someone in particular. Xander searched his mind for anyone he might have pissed off enough to set Yorlins on him. Nothing. Either he was way more annoying than he thought, or they were after someone else.
No matter. His Scooby duties were clear, even if his Watcher's Council duties were a little fuzzy. Xander finally reached the door. The Yorlins looked at him with hungry interest in their bright purple eyes, but stepped out of his way. Yep, they were definitely after someone inside. It looked like time for a distraction.
Instead of slipping past the demons, Xander shoved them roughly. "Move," he barked. Yorlins were big with the macho; they wouldn't let him get away with that. Both demons stumbled, then turned to Xander with a growl.
"You guys are way predictable, you know," Xander taunted. "Hunt, kill, growl. Maybe you should try something new. I hear karaoke is big with some demons." Xander backed away from the demons, dodging when they got too close, leading them into the street and away from the innocent by-sitters in the pub.
Suddenly one of the demons lunged at him, black claws extended. Xander was ready for it, and ducked aside. He backed up a bit more as he surreptitiously unscrewed the top to the salt shaker. The next time a Yorlin leapt for the human, it was met with a handful of salt in its face. Xander swiveled and threw another handful of salt at the second demon. Both screamed, scrabbling at their faces with sharp claws. They collapsed to the ground, their screams muted to moans. Soon, even those stopped, their clawed hands falling from their faces. Xander leaned cautiously over them, satisfied to see the light fading from the violet eyes.
"I guess I should be glad you guys never learned about protective face masks," Xander sighed as he turned away. He ran a hand through his hair, then froze as someone moved into his range of vision. Harry from the pub had been watching from the shadows. Well, damn.
***
Harry had been confused by Xander's behavior only until he's seen the Yorlin demons. Then he had stopped being confused and started being angry. Even when he was minding his own business in muggle London, the blasted Death Eaters had to send their assassins. He was disappointed that Xander was working with them. The American had seemed a lot nicer than the usual evil minions he ran into. But there he went, leaving to avoid injury and possibly to point Harry out to the demons.
Harry snorted. He wasn't stupid enough to just sit and wait for the attack. He drew his wand and slipped through the crowd, trying to hide behind other pub patrons. Maybe he could get close before they spotted him. It might cut down on collateral damage, if nothing else. When he got to the door, he was perplexed by the lack of demon assassins waiting for him. 'What kind of demon assassins leave without killing their target?' he thought.
Noise in the street drew him out of the pub. The Yorlins he expected to see, but he hadn't expected Xander to still be with them. 'Mental. You don't stick around to watch the hit, idiot!' Harry thought. But as he watched, he saw that Xander was most definitely not working with the demons.
The American was dodging and weaving as two snarling demons tried to maul him. He didn't move like a confused victim, just trying to escape. He moved like a seasoned fighter, manipulating his opponents as he looked for an opening. Harry was impressed. He was even more impressed a moment later when Xander threw something - 'A potion? A powder?' - at the demons. Whatever he threw was effective, felling both attackers almost instantly.
Harry took a moment to reallign his perceptions. This man obviously wasn't your average muggle. He studied the man for clues about his true identity. As the tall Californian leaned forward to taunt the fallen demons, Harry saw a familiar shape outlined against his clothes. Xander had something tucked into the back of his pants. Something about a foot long, which tapered at one end. Harry felt a surge of relief wash over him. He stepped forward into the light.
"I thought you were a muggle!" he said.
***
'A muggle?' Xander was confused by the apparent gibberish. He suddenly flashed on a night of watching musicals with Buffy and Willow, singing "Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?" The memory made him smile, but it didn't clear anything up.
"My British English isn't so hot. Giles told me about lorries and braces and biscuits, but nothing about muggles. Care to translate?"
"Oh, I see," Harry replied, looking thoughtful. "I hadn't realised there was such a language gap. What *do* you call braces?"
It seemed Xander had met a man as easily distracted as he was. He smiled. "Suspenders." He looked at the demon bodies on the street and realized he needed to arrange for disposal. It was only luck that no one had happened by already. "Look, I'm not really into a trans-Atlantic language lesson at the moment. Is it important if I'm a muggle or not?"
"Of course it's important! A muggle is a non-magical person. Someone who isn't a wizard. So you can see why that's important." And indeed, the earnest expression on Harry's face made it seem quite important. Xander almost hated to burst his bubble. Didn't mean he wouldn't do it, though.
"So 'muggle' is the British word for a person with no magical or supernatural ability?" Harry nodded. "Then that's me. Xan, Xan the Muggle Man. I always thought I was just the ordinary one. I never knew there was a word for it. Don't I feel special now?"
***
Harry was gobsmacked. 'What have I done?' He'd had it drilled into him from the time he'd entered the wizarding world that he needed to preserve the secret of its existence from muggles. This had only been stressed more after he'd blown up Aunt Marge all those years ago. Since entering Auror training, he'd learned more about muggle intolerance than he'd ever wanted to know. And what had he done with that knowledge? Gone and blabbed about magic to the first muggle he met.
He took a deep breath. He hadn't actually said much. This wasn't a disaster. Harry could fix it. He looked at Xander, who was still smiling at him, humor lighting his brown eye. It was too bad. He'd liked this man, and had felt linked to him by the men they'd both lost. But rules were rules. Harry lifted the wand he still held and pointed it at the American.
"Obliviate!"