DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, and all associated characters are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, United Paramount Network, and Fox Television. Heroes and all associated characters are property of Tim Kring and NBC. This work is not for profit, and no ownership of aforementioned copyrighted material implied, nor any infringement intended.
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A red-headed young woman blocked Peter’s way when he stepped forward. She spoke before he had a chance. “The girl is coming with us for her protection.”
“We’ll be the ones taking her,” Peter replied.
“No, you’re not. She’s one of ours,” the woman said with an air of finality.
When a teenaged girl peeked around the corner over the business end of a crossbow, Peter’s hand snapped up. The girl shrieked as her crossbow leapt to Peter’s grasp.
The slight woman spread her arms, and her hair whipped in an unfelt wind. Her auburn hair darkened to black as her eyes had become. “Oh! Puppy wants to play!”
“Whoa; whoa, folks!” A short man with a Brooklyn accent and a ratty fedora walked out of a previously unnoticed alley. He stopped a few paces short of the two primaries. “There’s been a misunderstanding. You, comic-book star, you’re wrong; she’s not what you think. Here, call your little psychic mutant-finder.”
Peter extended his hand, and caught the short man’s phone. After a brief conversation, Peter shut the phone and handed it back to the man. “If she’s not one of us, what is she?”
“Something else—” said the man.
At the same instant the redhead-again huffed, “None of your business.”
Peter stood silently, frowning and waiting for clarification. After a few seconds the man said, “Well, have a nice trip back.” Peter turned and stalked off into the night.
“Thanks, Whistler. I’ll tell Buffy you earned off some of your ‘ribcage hat’ points.”
“Good, good. The other side’s got enough going for it without the white hats knocking each other out of the cosmic hockey game.”
“A balance demon who likes hockey?”
“What can I say; I’m a Rangers fan,” Whistler said, and sauntered off towards the non-descript alley from which he had emerged.
FIN
