Closer to the Truth

[madimpossibledreamer]

WHOOPS I closed out of this accidentally thinking it was the text doc I was making tag notes in and lost a couple paragraphs. That sucks.

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Assassin's Creed (Beginning's End)
Summary: Willow finally arrives (with another guest), but Shaun's behaving strangely.
Word Count: 1568
Rating: Teen
pre-Shaun/Xander

 

         Books aren’t Rebecca’s thing. She swears she’s getting withdrawal, so eventually someone helpfully provides a (non-internet connected) tablet, which she quickly hacks into and finds there’s pretty much nothing on there that they’d want to hide. Which, you know, fair. At least they’re not underestimating her, unlike Shaun. She swears he’s using this time to practice infiltrating now that he’s adorable and fluffy, and she can’t even blame him, because it’s probably a good idea. It’s pretty clear he doesn’t know why it’s important, just that he’s bored and it’s important for some reason, because just like with the first day, Xander’s gone and it’s an alternative to soulfully brooding for a certain werewolf.
         But still, it’s something to do, because yeah, she’s bored, too. Sure, they’re basically giving her free reign to wander almost everywhere, except for a few locked doors. Every time she tries to lockpick them, someone just happens to come along, like, hey, someone made some cake, you gotta come see, Shaun’s being adorable, oh hey, you wanna talk music? Which she does, every time, yeah. It’s pretty obvious it’s on purpose, too, and she doesn’t even take it too much as an insult, because if the situation was reversed and they were, say, on the Altaïr II, Xander and the Slayers (and the couple male Witches she’s seen, which, can she say, she loves that for them, as well as, she assumes, a couple Watchers) would be stuck in locked rooms until they were escorted somewhere, but they wouldn’t be able to wander around like this even if they were being watched.
         But they let her in the library, and they don’t interrupt, and for all she knows they’re going to be ambushed at any time by demons or zombies or vampires, so it makes sense to read about them and memorize what she can. She did ask Shaun if he wanted to look, because a lot of this is, like, demon politics and demons in history and it is so his cup of tea. He just gives her a flat, unimpressed look, that would be something like, ‘I am a wolf, what do you expect of me?’ in that haughty tone of his if he could actually talk.
         It helps that she’s already kinda familiar from pop culture, so most of what she has to do is compare it to what she knows already. Someone (she’s putting her money on Xander, given that there’s also an energy drink sitting on the table, too) piles up a stack of books about werewolves next to where he’d been sitting. A lot of it is familiar—the stuff about the silver, though damage can also do it, but Shaun is now probably the most durable Assassin they have. The stuff about the moon is supposed to be accurate. They’re also supposed to be super feral, and not just from the pain. They’re not supposed to recognize people, they’re not supposed to remember things, they’re supposed to have to be caged or tranquilized or both to prevent them from going on rampages. And, as Xander had said, they’re not supposed to be so wolfy. They are going to have to watch out for werewolf hunters, though. And, if Shaun gets cleared to be in the field, for him to avoid ever biting a Templar, because they don’t need Abstergo werewolves, too. Particularly as there’s no cure other than death, and if they even get a hint the supernatural is real, too...she doesn’t want to think about it. She glances over at Shaun with that—no wonder Xander and the rest are so weirded out. “You’re busy being too stuffy and British to be a feral, heathen werewolf, aren’t you?” she teases, even though that’s probably not what’s going on here.
         Wolf-Shaun growls a little but pads over and sits just out of reach, staring at her. Staring contests are a lot harder this way.
         She’s about to apologize—because he likes the pets, too, and even though it doesn’t do anything actually practical, it helps her deal with the situation a bit, too—when Xander wanders in and practically collapses in one of the chairs. Wolf-Shaun eyes her for a moment longer, then actually turns up his muzzle and proceeds to ignore her, trotting over to shove himself into smelling Xander. And—interestingly enough, that’s something else. Dogs like to smell the crotch, and apparently sex and arousal draws werewolves like moths to flame, and Xander’s definitely interested, but Shaun’s been refraining. He’s been downright polite about it.
         “Hey, Xan.” She’s thought about it, because she’s definitely not calling him Desmond, but maybe a similar nickname would help. She’s taking a bit of a Leap of Faith, a conversational one, but she sees him smile and relax, between her greeting and Shaun just shoving his nose into his hand.
         “Hi, Rebecca.” It’s still not his voice, but yeah, the way he responds to her, with his tone, mostly, he’s definitely got what’s left of Desmond. “Willow’s finally arriving today, so I thought, you know. I should be on hand.” He’s nervous and rather than fidgeting he distracts himself entirely by scratching Shaun’s ears and vigorously running his fingers through the fur.
         “So we might actually have humanoid Shaun back soon?” It’d be kind of exciting to finally be able to share all this stuff.
         Xander opens his mouth, and then closes it again, a little puzzled, looking at Shaun, and she follows his gaze to find that Wolf-Shaun is...well, on a dog, anyway, she’d say he looks scared, because his tail is tucked, his ears are flattened, and he’s crouching down, trying to look smaller. He’s not even leaning into the pets anymore. “I, uh.” That’s something new, but they’re interrupted, too, because the sudden commotion probably means their visitors have arrived.
         “Time for the show,” Xander groans and gets up, but falters a little when Wolf-Shaun isn’t glued to his side, like he’s been. “It’s going to be fine, Shaun. Willow doesn’t bite,” he coaxes, voice soft and gentle, and Shaun just...doesn’t move. And in response, he just takes a deep breath, looking a little hurt. “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll be back, I guess.” And that’s uncomfortably familiar, too, because it looks like the exact same way the light in Desmond’s eyes would die when they didn’t have the time to keep talking to him, the way he’d hunch more and just quietly leave, and she half expects he’ll come back with another energy drink for her and a treat for Shaun. Like he’s apologizing to them for just existing.
         “It’s still day,” a new guy remarks quietly. He’s wearing a band t-shirt, and while Rebecca would love to have a conversation with him about it, now isn’t the time, obviously. He crouches down within reach of Shaun, with absolutely no fear, and doesn’t even flinch when Shaun growls once, short and low.
         “You weren’t kidding,” a woman adds, and when he’d said ‘Dark Phoenix’ he’d been fully honest, because she hadn’t expected literally red hair or similar looks, though her style’s maybe a bit more goth than traditional superhero.
         “Hey, hey, I may kid, often and irresponsibly, but I wouldn’t do that in a situation where I dragged people into my mess,” Xander complains, bringing up the rear. “Okay, for the introductions, Rebecca and Shaun, this is Oz, a fellow werewolf, and Willow, bestest of best friends and Witch Extraordinaire. And vice versa.”
         Shaun growls again, and Willow frowns. “I thought you said he wasn’t aggressive.”
         “He’s only growled when the Isu have been mentioned and when you guys showed up,” Xander explains, hovering a little before deciding to give up and throw himself into a chair, and Shaun doesn’t go to him now, either, though with the way his eyes are staring at Oz, unblinking, maybe he’s reading the fellow werewolf as a threat, or something?
         “And he hasn’t changed back at all?” Willow asks for clarification, and their friend shakes his head.
         “I know it’s been four full days, but no, not as far as anyone’s told me or that I’ve seen. He went through the initial painful transformation and then he’s just been wolfy.” And yep, Xander’s kind of trying to melt into the armchair, too. The ‘rejection’ really had hurt his feelings, huh. Even if, logically, he probably got that whatever this was about, it wasn’t about him.
         “I’m going to do a spell to figure out what’s what,” Willow decides, glancing at them thoughtfully.
         “I could try to keep him there,” Rebecca offers, and Oz shakes his head.
         “Bad idea, if he panics.” The unspoken implication is that he definitely might panic, and yeah, that’s a good point. It’s not like he’s hung around watching them do magic before, and depending on what it looks like it could be a little too Isu for comfort.
         Willow gasps and smiles. “Actually, Xander, could you go get one of the shirts you’ve worn recently? And Rebecca, if you could just sacrifice one of your fingerless gloves for the time being. Or the hat. And then if you could get in the line of sight.”
         “On it.” Xander tosses off a lazy salute and practically vaults over the armchair.
         “I’ll hold him,” Oz offers, and then Shaun proves, again, that he does understand most of what they say, because he just bolts.