A Gargoyle Named Bob: Part 3
by Jared Cantrell
Part Three
Blake and Bob stopped their van near the park and waited.
The vampires had supplied a name and an address for the Slayer. They had staked the place out for a while until they were sure no one but the mother was home. Then, at Blake's urging, they had left for the park, hoping to find the Slayer still patrolling for vampires. Blake had asked the two undead for information on when she usually came home and the areas she usually searched, but since not very many vampires had encountered her and survived, there was scant data. That she did most of her staking in the park was common knowledge, but only because that was where most of the vampires hunted.
"Grrr," Bob growled at his partner from the back of the van.
"I told you that you shouldn't have drank all that coffee. Didn't I tell you?"
"Grrr."
"Well, you can hold it." Blake lit a cigarette and took a puff of it as he stared out the windshield into the shadowy park.
"Grrr. Grrr," Bob growled again.
"Yeah," Blake answered him, still looking out at the park. "I suppose we could have just taken the mother hostage, broke a few bones until she talked. At the very least used her as a bargaining chip against the Slayer."
"Grrr?"
"Because you know I don't like to do things that way. Look," he stabbed out the cigarette and turned back to his partner. "For the last eight years, I've been that sorcerer's lap dog. I've done his dirty work, I've killed who he wanted me to kill. After this, its over. I won't ever have to kill anybody again. And I'm not real hot on making my last job a brutal bloodbath. I don't want another repeat of that orphanage debacle."
"Grrr," Bob gave a pleased growl to Blake.
"It still gives me nightmares. And Bob, as much fun as its been these last couple of years, I don't think I'll miss you too much."
"Grrr?" his voice sounded hurt.
"Sorry buddy, but you scare me. I mean, when you start ripping limbs off and eating people, well, it freaks me out." Blake sighed and rested his head in his hands. "I still can't believe you ate the fat kid."
Bob growled contentedly and patted his stomach. While Blake was trying unsuccessfully to block out the memories of his partners past deeds, Bob peered out the windshield and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Grrr."
Blake looked up quickly and followed Bob's large pointing finger.
"Bingo!"
* * *
Buffy had followed Eric and Max home from a safe distance. She quietly kept to the shadows and listened intently for anything out of the ordinary. She had a tense moment when the wind shifted and Max turned back in her direction. She was certain that he would bark, or run towards her, or something. But instead, Max only gave out a little doggy sigh and trotted back to his master's side as he walked home.
His house was a pleasant, two story affair. Someone had apparently kept up the gardening in the intervening years because the grass was neatly tended and the trees and shrubbery pruned back. But the house was empty and dark as Eric and Max approached it. She could see his car, the only one parked in the drive. It was a dark red Toyota hatchback at least fifteen years old and in desperate need of a wash. On the back windshield, a UCLA sticker adorned the glass along with a smily face that someone had made in the heavy accumulation of dust.
Buffy watched him pause at the front door with the keys in his hands. He stared at the door for a moment as if hesitant to go in. She heard Max's plaintive whine at his master's melancholy. Seeing his friend worrying over him brought him out of his reverie and she watched Eric scruffle the dog's neck playfully. He opened the door and they went inside.
Buffy waited for a minute or two, more out of curiosity than anything else. She watched as one of the upstairs bedroom lights came on. The light soon went out, and the house was completely dark.
'He goes to bed early,' she thought to herself, looking at her watch. It was only eleven o'clock by her watch, and though it might have been late for a school night, it was just the beginning of a Friday night, especially for a Slayer.
She detached herself from the shadows in which she had hid and started back towards the park. She figured that the vampires that had fled from her earlier might have since returned and she would be able to finish her night's work early. She might even have enough time to meet up again with Xander and Willow.
'Except that they're probably doing their own things with their respective honeys,' she thought wryly to herself. Xander would be tied up with Cordelia most of the night, perhaps literally as well as figuratively. Willow would probably spend the evening encouraging Oz to be more physically attentive to her needs. She didn't think her friends would especially appreciate her company tonight.
'Insert your own menage-a-trois joke here,' she thought with a smile. As she was approaching the park, she began to carefully survey the area for signs of activity.
There was a van nearby, but it was the only vehicle in the area, and the man inside didn't seem to be hurting anyone. From the looks of him with his head down in his hands, he looked like he was having some sort of emotional crisis. Buffy decided that her Slaying duties took precedence over helping some guy with his personal difficulties. She left the darkened van behind and moved into the shadowy depths of the park.
Buffy expected to find the two vampires still prowling around the same area where she had left them, or more appropriately, where they had left her. After all, vampires were not known for their intellectual prowess or cunning. These days, most of them didn't live long enough to learn anything due to Buffy's hunting.
She decided to find their tracks and go after them. By now they would have given up on any trap they might have set for her. They might even grow careless, assuming that she had abandoned the hunt for the night. She found the clearing where their initial battle had been fought and she looked around carefully. The light breeze that was blowing tonight had swept away the last of the vampire she had 'dusted' leaving only the thrown stake she had forgotten to retrieve.
'Wonder what Eric would've thought of me carrying a wooden stake around on our date,' she thought to herself. 'I mean, you can only hide so many of these things on yourself before people start asking where you're going to put up the tent.' She stopped for a moment as she picked up the stake and thought back over the past few hours. 'When did he stop being "that guy I met tonight?" When did I start thinking of him as a real person with a name?' She knelt there on the ground twirling the stake in her hands. 'Probably when he touched my arm for the first time. I felt something warm and electric at his touch.'
Buffy suddenly shook her head vigorously trying to put him out of her thoughts.
"I still have a killer ex to worry about," she quietly muttered to herself. "I can't be thinking about some guy."
"Well then try thinking about how you're going to get out of this," she heard a man speak behind her. She spun around quickly, stake in hand, ready to pounce on whoever was speaking. She arrested her movement when she saw that the man was not a vampire and that he was armed. The pistol he held was trained steadily on her and he held it with a practiced ease. Her first thought on seeing him was how could he see with those sunglasses on? Her second thought was how had he snuck up on her so quietly? She had been lost in thought, but not that lost. Her Slayer-enhanced senses should have warned her of his approach. She stared grimly back at him.
"What do you want? I gotta say, I'm getting pretty sick and tired of bad guys with guns. I dismembered the last bunch of bad guys that shot at me."
"I've got some questions about what went on in that mansion last week," Blake told her. "Two of them in fact. Like who killed the sorcerer for one. And two, and this is just for my own curiosity, what the hell happened to the house?"
"Look buddy, you better just put that gun down now before you get me mad," Buffy warned him. "It might take me awhile to cut off all your limbs with just a wooden stake but trust me, I can do it."
"I don't think that's going to happen."
Suddenly, a huge stone arm wrapped itself around her neck and lifted her off her feet. She scrambled against her assailant trying to pry the arm away from her. Her hands met solid living granite grating harshly against her skin. She couldn't turn around to see him, but her attacker had to be at least eight feet tall. She could smell its rancid breath, and from the corner of her eyes she caught a glimpse of a huge flapping wing. Another stone arm wrapped around her mid section holding down her struggling legs.
'How did this thing sneak up behind me?' she thought frantically. 'Better work fast Summers! This thing's gonna snap that pretty neck of yours in few more seconds!'
Blake moved towards her, his gun still aimed carefully at her struggling form.
"Now, do we understand the situation? We ask the questions, and you answer politely. Then we kill you. It's pretty simple really. So, who killed the sorcerer? What happened?"
"Gaaahhhh," Buffy gasped through the stone grip around her neck.
"Bob, you're killing her. That has to wait until later. Ease up just a little bit. Oh, hell." Blake moved closer to her and put the barrel of the gun to her temple. "I'm not even sure I'd believe you if you said you didn't kill him. Gotta kill you one way or another, just to be sure. If the compulsion ends when I splatter your brains all over my friend here, then we'll know we got the right person. If not, well, we'll just start in with you're friends." She watched as his finger tightened down on the trigger.
'Mysterious Stranger guy, this would be a good time to show up,' she silently called out, closing her eyes in preparation for the end.
A sound like an electrical discharge went of nearby and she suddenly felt the cold barrel knocked away from her head. Blake let out a howl of pain. Buffy opened her eyes to see the gun man holding his now empty hand in pain. Her own assailant was rocked by a sudden blow behind. His grip on her weakened and she took full advantage of his sudden surprise. Focusing all her strength on a single blow, she brought her elbow up into the giant's armpit, cracking the stone there with tremendous force. The arm that held her suddenly came free in her hands. The monster's other arm reflexively let her go as it reeled in pain from its severed limb.
Buffy quickly ducked away from him, still holding his stone arm. For the first time she got a good look at her giant opponent. He was as tall as she had guessed but it was still a surprise to see an eight foot tall gargoyle. His great wings beat the air and swept up dirt and dust. He was screaming in pain at the loss of his limb, and there was a thin tendril of smoke rising from his back. The smell of carbonization filled the air. Standing at the edge of the clearing behind the gargoyle, Buffy's Mysterious Stranger stood, his right hand glowing with electrical arcs jumping around it.
He was still dressed in the armor he worn before, but the rents and tears had disappeared, and the dark black ichor of the demon dogs had been cleaned off. The symbol he wore on the chest of his armor glowed lightly. The helmet he wore still hid his face completely but she could picture him smiling as he spoke to her.
"Sorry I'm late," was all he said as the helmet's glowing eyeslit focused on her.
"You're starting to make a habit of this," she answered breathlessly, catching her breath from the choking her assailant had given her.
"You want gun boy or the gargoyle?" the knight asked her, all business now. She glanced over at Blake who was now ignoring his wounded hand and reaching into his coat with the other.
"I'll take gun boy," she smiled at Blake ferally. She raised the gargoyle's stone arm like a club and charged.
Behind her, the gargoyle turned to face the newest addition to the situation. At seeing the knight he let out a fearsome war cry, stretching his one arm out and bellowing at the sky. His three toes feet dug furrows into the ground as he ran at the smaller target, his great clawed hand sweeping around to rend through the armor and tear the flesh beneath it. The knight calmly stood his ground until the gargoyle was right on top of him then leaped straight up into the air. The gargoyle stopped in surprise and waited for his escaping prey to return to earth.
The glow in the knight's hand spread out and elongated. As he reached the zenith of his leap, the glow faded and in his hands was a long engraved sword. He raised the blade over his head and fell towards the gargoyle beneath him. The gargoyle raised its other arm to ward off the blow, but the descending blade sliced cleanly through it. The blade continued its downward arc, biting deep into the gargoyle's shoulder and stopping midway through its chest. The gargoyle screamed again as the knight withdrew the blade. The knight brought the sword back behind his shoulder then swung out in a horizontal slash that cut the creature in half. The top half of the gargoyle toppled to the ground and shattered, and the beast's waist and legs froze into immobility.
Buffy rushed at the gun man with her improvised club. Blake drew another gun from his jacket and began to fire at her. She deftly sidestepped his first two hastily aimed shots, but the third grazed her arm. With a wordless yell of rage, she lashed out with the stone club and tried to clock him upside the head. His reflexes were quick and he must have had a hard head. He tried to dodge but took a glancing blow to the temple. Now that she was in close, Blake began to fire his pistol indiscriminately in the hopes of scoring a lucky hit. Buffy leaped over his head and swung the club on his unprotected back side. Blake ducked her blow and dropped to the ground trying to sweep her legs out from under her. She jumped over his sweeping leg and kicked out at him, connecting solidly. He grunted and collapsed to the ground, but just when she was sure she had put him down, he turned onto his back firing his pistol up at her. She dodged back, evading all his shots until he ran out of bullets a few moments later.
The sound of shattering stone made Blake turn his head and he saw that his partner had fallen. Buffy took advantage of her enemy's sudden inattention to her and pounced at him. He caught her attack out of the corner of his eye and dodged away from the descending stone arm. He got to his feet and looked back and forth between his fallen comrade, the strange armored figure that had defeated him, and the fierce club-wielding Slayer. Seeing he was outnumbered he made the decision to retreat, but he could see that the Slayer had no intention of letting him go.
Buffy could tell he was getting ready to bolt. She held her improvised club ready and carefully judged the direction he was going to take. His body language spoke volumes to her, and sure enough, when he began his rapid retreat he followed the same direction she had assumed he would. But suddenly, as she began to pursue him, he made a quick movement and disappeared entirely. She stopped abruptly and looked around, trying to determine where he had gone.
"Oh no!" she cried out in angry disappointment. "Not another invisible person! I hate it when I can't see what I'm hitting!"
"I don't think he turned invisible," the knight spoke form nearby.
She rounded on him stone club still in hand.
"Well, how else do you explain him just disappearing into thin air? I mean, he was here, right in front of me, and then he's gone! Have I gone selectively blind or something?"
The knight was calm as he approached her. The sword in his hand glowed softly then vanished. He came to stand by her side and peered through the darkness in the direction the fleeing gun man had taken.
"When someone just disappears, there are a number of possibilities," he explained to her. "He could have teleported to another location. He could have metamorphed in something extremely small like an insect. Or he could have become insubstantial and ducked beneath the ground. But more than likely, he just practiced some form of deception on you."
"Deception? He vanished! He disappeared!"
"He appears to have been a very talented assassin type, not just a hired gun. I wouldn't be surprised if he had studied the ancient arts of invisibility practiced by some of the martial arts schools in Japan. Misdirecting your opponent through subtle means, use of shadows, hiding. He can probably even enter some kind of Zen state when he requires it, shielding his thoughts and presence from magical detection. _I_ don't even know where he is. But I would guess that he is fleeing from this place with all due haste." He looked over at her and saw her regarding him with an odd look. "I've ran into their type before. You'd be surprised what a normal person can be taught to do, even without magic."
Buffy blew a stray strand of hair out of her face and looked back over at the shattered remains of the gargoyle that until a few moments ago had been choking the life out of her. She took a deep breath before speaking.
"I guess I should thank you for helping me. Again. If you hadn't came along when you did..."
"Don't get your Slayer pride all in a bunch," he waved off. "I was just doing what I had to; doing what I always do. Cleaning up after the messes he leaves behind."
"What are you talking about? And hey, while you're answering that, why don't you tell me you're name? Maybe even who you are, or what you're doing here?"
He turned his back on her and walked back towards the remains of the gargoyle.
"And by the way," she spoke to his back. "Screw my pride. Thank you. I'd be dead right now if you hadn't came along."
He paused at her words and knelt down to inspect the shattered stone.
"This shouldn't have happened. None of this should have happened."
"Hey, of course this stuff shouldn't happen. There shouldn't be vampires or sorcerers sacrificing virgin girls to summon demons. But... we stop them. That's what we do."
"No. I mean none of this was in the game plan. None of this was fated. That sorcerer should never have had the knowledge to summon an Old One but he almost succeeded. And almost as importantly, he wasn't supposed to die."
Buffy was dumbstruck by his words.
"What do you mean 'he wasn't supposed to die?' He's the evil sorcerer, of course he's supposed to die!"
"I don't doubt that he should have been killed years ago for his evils, but he was a major player in the battle between the Forces of Darkness and Light. He wasn't supposed to die for years to come. You and your friends were never supposed to enter the netherworld, but you did. And you certainly weren't supposed to get your brains blown out by some mortal assassins bullet."
Buffy began to become incensed at her Mysterious Stranger. She threw the stone club she was still holding, down on the ground where it cracked and rebounded off the soft grass.
"Alright! I am sick and tired of you being Mister Cryptic. I've done this scene before and I can't say that I like reruns! So, one last time: Who... are you?! What are you talking about?"
He dropped the small piece of stone he had been fiddling with and turned to her as he rose.
"My enemies call me 'The Dragon,'" he finally told her after a short silence. Look, why I'm here isn't important. I won't be here long... Take care of yourself, Slayer. This isn't over yet." With his last words he began to glow and dissipate like his sword. After a few moments he was gone, vanished into thin air.
"Men just can not communicate!" Buffy declared to her empty surroundings. She gave out an angry huff and boot kicked the stone arm into the bushes. She then turned around and began to head for home, rubbing her bruised neck. She hoped that with her accelerated healing, the bruises would be gone in time for her date tomorrow.
* * *
After she had left the park behind, a shadow detached itself from one of the nearby trees. Blake carefully looked around to make sure that no one was around then moved over to the remains of his friend.
"Well Bob, this is gonna take a lot of super glue," he muttered as he began to collect the bits and pieces of the shattered gargoyle.
* * *
Eric slept fitfully in his bed, tossing and turning. Max watched his master carefully as he slept. He could hear him muttering in his sleep.
"Slayer," Max heard him mutter in the darkened room. Soon after, his master's sleep became peaceful and Max settled down at the end of his bed. He watched his master carefully all through the night.
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