A Break in the Routine

The door to the small, cosy bar opened and closed admitting a tall, elegant looking man of middle age, expensive but rumpled looking clothing and a haircut left over from the mid 70s. He had a rangy, loose limbed walk as he crossed the room to the tall, well polished mahogany bar. He took a stool next to a slender, pale haired man who was nursing a glass of ginger ale. The bartender set a slender stemmed glass in front of the new comer as the conversations, which had lulled at his arrival, resumed their usual level of noise.

Derek Rayne, Precept of the San Francisco House of the world spanning Legacy, downed his sherry and motioned for another one. The man beside him raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his own glass.

"Difficult day?"

That got a snort of laughter. "She's at it again."

The pale man looked concerned. "Is she?"

"Yes."

Derek's dark, burning gaze met the pale, direct eyes of the other. "Not content with making my life contorted with immortals who are not supernatural, she's now decided that aliens might be a good idea."

"Aliens." There was a sharpness to the other's voice.

Derek nodded. "Aliens. And something called SHADO."

Silence.

"Damn." The word was quiet, but heart felt. The pale man held out his hand to Derek. "I'm Ed Straker. I suspect we're going to be working – together."

Derek's eyebrows rose in surprised arches. "You're already here?" He took the proffered handshake.

Straker nodded. "She's been – busy."

With a resigned sigh, the darker man nodded. "Isn't she always. But I thought we'd seen the last of her after that bit where we went to Sunnydale."

Straker shook his head. "She's part bull dog, that one. Once she gets her teeth into something, she won't let it loose."

Derek drained his second glass, set the glass down and straightened his shoulders. "I guess it's time to head back then."

"Might as well get it over with."

"Er – excuse me. I couldn't quite help overhearing." A third tall man, slender built, with medium brown curly hair cut short and wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose giving a slightly abstracted look to his keen green gaze had walked up behind them. "Aliens?"

Straker and Derek regarded each other uncertainly, then nodded.

"And – er – supernaturals?"

Another nod.

He sighed. "I believe you'll be working with me as well. Giles. Rupert Giles." He frowned at Derek. "Weren't you in Sunnydale a while back?"

Derek looked long suffering and ignored the question. "Shall we?"

The three of them walked out of the bar together into the night, the sounds of chanting, whirling alien craft and confused teenagers following in their wake.

In the far back corner, a medium sized Chinese dragon with black and silver scales, pushed its scarred bifocals back up its nose and frowned at the glowing monitor screen in front of her. She hilited what she'd written and hit the delete button. It was a most unsatisfactory story.

The door to a small, cosy bar opened .............