jonathanparagon | (no subject)

(no subject)

[Some hours after this.]

The sun's slanting toward the western horizon by the time he reaches midtown. It's the last stop he's got planned; none of the others, aside from the first one or two to collect supplies, have borne any fruit at all -- and even on those, people who should have recognized him showed no sign of it.

A heavy shutter is halfway down the storefront of Alcina's when he gets there. The sign on the door still reads OPEN, though.

He ducks to look in under the shutter, knocks on the door. Offers Alcina a hopeful smile, when she looks up.

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Lowering her voice in turn: "Starting to be. She showed up pretty recently."

Jonathan nods. "So she'll've been throwing her weight around like they always do when they're taking over. With Alcina in particular, or...?"

"Alcina's used to be strictly neutral. These days ... not so much." There's no pity in Marlie's tone. "We don't know if she's joined or just owned, but either way."

Jonathan glances back towards the store in turn, and there is pity on his face for a moment. "I'd bet on owned," he says, voice still low. "Don't be too hard on her after you take Elie down."

Marlie looks at him sidelong.

"So you said you were from Sunnydale," more brightly, "but I didn't get your name."

That brings a moment of hesitation. Is Buffy in New York? Even if she isn't, would word get back to her of the strange new vampire hunter in town?

He decides in the end, though, not to lie. "Jonathan. Levinson."

A sudden grin. "Do you know your name's a double dactyl?"

"Marlie," Kelly says in weary annoyance.

"It is, though," Marlie insists. "Hickety pickety, Jonathan Levinson."

He can't help laughing a little at that, raising a hand in palliation towards Kelly. "I didn't, actually. You're into linguistics?"

"Poetics. I used to be an English major."

"Believe me," says Kelly dryly, "she still is."

"Good for you," he says sincerely. "We all need to have interests outside the work."

"Yeah?" Marlie grins at him. "What're yours?"

Kelly sighs again. "You have fun gossiping," she tells Marlie, digging in her pocket for her cellphone. "I'm calling in the report."

Jonathan glances at her before turning his attention back to Marlie. Whatever she might say, at least it can't be bad about him. Probably.

"Magic," he tells the girl. "History and practice, since I was in high school."

Kelly's quickened her pace, walking far enough ahead that they can't really hear each other.

"You're a magician?" Marlie brightens even further. "You should meet our wiccans."

"Yeah?" He grins back. "You mentioned Buffy... where's Willow Rosenberg at these days? I know they were always together back at school."

"You know Ms. Rosenberg too?" Marlie sounds a little breathless with excitement. "She's amazing. I've only ever seen her, back at the Academy -- oh, this one time? The castle was under attack by a witch who raised a horde of Scottish zombies, and Ms. Rosenberg made them all start ballroom dancing instead of fighting. It was so awesome."

Jonathan laughs again, genuinely. "I always knew she was powerful, but that's got style."

"Our wiccans report to her -- I could have Julie tell her you said hi?"

Jonathan waves it off and lies cheerfully. "No need for that, she probably won't remember me. I sort of faded into the background a lot in high school."

"I know what that's like," Marlie says ruefully. "Lucky me, though, I got Slayer powers the week I graduated. So these days when I fade into the background, it's on purpose. And a lot more fun." She grins.

"I bet it is." He grins back, and it's real. "Gotta admit, I thought you were a mundane when you went past me. Even warded you."

"Well, being the decoy is what I do best." Cheerful.

Up ahead, Kelly turns her head and catches Marlie's eye, and jerks her head to one side. Marlie nods, and eels sideways through the other pedestrians, gesturing to Jonathan to follow her.

He does so willingly - he's still not sure where they're going, but wherever it is has to be better than an empty warehouse.

The three wind up in a little alcove between buildings, out of the wind and out of the main flow of foot traffic.

"We're being called back to base," Kelly tells him. "You're welcome to come with."

Jonathan hesitates at that, because there's "better than an empty warehouse", but anyone could be at their base who he doesn't want to run into.

"They don't want you to patrol?"

"We'll find out when we get there," Kelly says, her face stony. "The callback is for change of orders."