13486/Yo, I'm hoppin' all around I'm a pink bird

Yo, I'm hoppin' all around I'm a pink bird
Date of Scene:	12 June 2021
Location:	The Magic Box, Sunnydale
Synopsis:	Giles meets Nat and everyone roundly agrees that Alex is awesome.
Cast of Characters:	Phobos, Sinister, Rupert Giles, Black Widow (Romanoff), Loki

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Phobos has posed:
    Late in the evening.
    There are some strange people in this neighborhood. Thought the twenty something Olympian secret agent god of fear. Even as he walked back into the Magic Box after a brief sojourn on the outside. Though his wanderings bore fruit in the aluminum foil wrapper in his hand that contains the remains of his deep-fried peanut-butter and banana sandwich. A treasure which he has no intention of relinquishing for now at least.
    But now within the confines of the shop he thoughtfully remembers to lock the door as he wanders on by, giving a small /whumpf!/ of a punch to the speed bag hanging near the training equipment. A few more steps and he feels a small buzz from the cellphone in his off pocket and casually swoops it out as he walks along back towards the main room as he takes a bite of the sammich. His eyebrows lift as he considers the message he received, then pauses at the archway leading into the front room, gaze sweeping the interior.

Sinister has posed:
"I'm going to kill him. I'm seriously going to kill him. Little trumped up wanker," Compact, meet Sinister staring into you at sharpie moustache. He has soap and water on a cloth and has been working on it. "I swear, if I get you cornered, I'm going to tan your hide /so/ bad..." scrub-scrub-scrub "...damnation."
The woes of being 'in disguise' and not having unveiled all that you are. Sucks to be you, 'Wessex'. You're stuck with the indeligability of permanent marker moustache, a'la Deadpool.

This from somewhere in the washroom area of the magic box and possibly this is all that will be heard from the 'Other' englishman for the night. Vanity has its price, to a degree.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles is in the back area of the shop. The private area as the shop is closed. He's sitting at the single round table there, reading, you guessed it, a book. An old book, even, looking over some of the information within it in search of.. well. It's hard to tell. Maybe something to do with the shadow caster. Maybe something to do with the Apophis stone. Maybe something else entirely. Whatever it is, his legs are stretched out in front of him as he reads. He looks comfortable.

As the back door opens to admit someone into the building, and he glances up. "Alexander," he says. "I ordered pizza. It'll arrive in about ten minutes." He notices the aluminium foil wrapper. "What's that?" Curiuos curious he is. He glances over at Sinister and his lips twitch. His marker moustache? Long gone. He'd taken care of that with a spell. A small spell, the previous evening. He makes no comment. Perhaps the thought that it can be removed more easily will be read.

Phobos has posed:
    "Hey," Is Alexander's response as he lifts the hand holding the sandwich in greeting. But then he notices Giles' attention and he follows the man's gaze to the sandwich in the foil. "It is called..."
    A moment taken as he considers, moving further into the room. "Peanut-Butter and Banana Bliss. But it's a deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwich on sweetened challah bread with some powdered sugar." There's a nod as he moves further in.
    Gesturing to he side, "I got it from that food truck a few doors down. Miracles in Peanut Butter, I think they're called. It's good." Though he doesn't eat any in here so casually, since he's not a savage! But then he gestures with the other hand holding the phone.
    "So. A friend might be coming by soon to bring me a change of clothes and such. Is that alright at this hour?"

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles closes the book and lifts it to set it atop the table. The cover appears to be leather and is brown. The title is in golden colored leters. Demonology. "That sounds interesting. Maybe a good desert," he says, sounding thoughtful. "From the place up the road? A .. caravan, of some sort?" Giles is trying to remember, but he has his nose in a book and his head thinking thoughts so much.. and he rarely comes in by the front door.

He sits up and rises to his feet. He goes for the kettle. Water is poured in, and it's set to boil. "Tea? Would your friend like tea?" Apparently, that is a yes, it's okay. Then, "Of course it's okay. None of us sleep at this time of night anyway. 'tis too early."

Phobos has posed:
    The youth's head bobs a few times as he walks and pulls out the benchseat where he had settled before, though on his way he pockets his cellphone and covers the sandwich with the foil wrap around it. Covering it all up he sets it on the table nearby then answers Giles with a nod. "Greenish paint job? Yah. Has all sorts of peanut butter things. The soup looked interesting, but I'm not that brave."
    Which if he stopped and reflected on what he said, might be a bit amusing. But he doesn't.
    Instead he sojourns on as he gestures to the side, "She might well like tea, and sure. That'd be a kindness." Then Giles offers his permission which curiously enough is rather important to Alexander. The forms of things are, after all.
    "Thank you, we won't tread on your hospitality too long." Though he does tilt his head, "Do you know a Vladimir? Eastern European fellow? Mild accent? Dark hair. Tall."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles stands at the counter, his left hand resting atop it, palm down, as he looks at Alexander. Awaiting the decision on the tea. He nods about the caravan. "Yes. That's the one. The soup is actually quite good." He doesn't reflect on that statement of the god's either. It simply doesn't occur to him. He nods and gets down three cups once the decision has been made. Tea bags get placed in two of them, the third left empty for now.

Once that's done, he reaches up for the box of sugar cubes and carries them to the table. "I should just leave these sitting on the table," he says thoughtfully. The advent of actual permission is a thing for Giles too. For instance, a lot of vampires can't enter a home without a direct invitation from someone within. Public places are different, of course, but this is kind of Giles' home away from home.

"You're not treading on my hosptiality at all," he points out. "You're good company and are doing me a favor, not the other way around." He turns to the kettle as it reaches boiling. He shuts it off and lifts it to pour the hot water into the two cups with the tea bags.

"Vladimir? Eastern Europiean, mild accent, dark hair, tall? Not that I can think of." He finishes pouring and places the kettle back onto its stand with the heating coil and thinks about that name. He laughs as a thought occurs to him. "Unless you mean Vlad Draculia. Dracula. But I doubt that." He shakes his head at himself.

Phobos has posed:
    "Oh sure you think that now," Alexander says about him being good company as he turns in his seat to follow the Englishman's progression, "But then if we were roommates all my stuff would touch your stuff and my clothes would be everywhere." Alexander's smile is a small wry thing as he leans to the side, resting his elbow on the tabletop and in turn his head in his hand.
    "You'd be like, 'You left the falafel out again!' and all, 'Could you please stop your family from making our stove a gateway to the underworld? And tell the satyrs to stop cavorting in the back yard.'" That youth has such an easy control of the dead-pan tone that one might not ever be sure exactly how far he's joking, and how much he's drawing on real life experiences.
    Yet those pale hazel eyes dancing with amusement might give some insight.
    "But yes, a Vladimir fellow was hanging out outside, he wanted to come in, I thought it best to tell him the store was closed." So smrt.

Rupert Giles has posed:
"Well, it would be in the courtyard with the fountain, actually. I don't have a back yard," replies Giles. "But the statement about the falafel and stove is accurate. And your stuff touching my stuff.." He pauses. "Hmm. Temporary flatmates isn't bad, though." Giles is just as deadpan. He might be joking. Or he might be entirely serious. But, like the younger man, Giles' eyes are sparkling with amusement.

"Hm, well. The store is closed, so that was probably right." He picks up the cups and carries them to the table, setting one in front of Alexander, and the other beside the Demonology book. "You know where the milk is if you want some," he says, and then moves to walk into the front of the store. He looks out the window, looking to see if he can see anyone, but it's too dark and he can't see anyone.

Phobos has posed:
    "Ah," Alexander says, "I do." Have a backyard. Though technically it's not his either. More the place he rests his head often enough and he's taken a particular shine to it these last few months.
    "But no, no this isn't /entirely/ horrible." His lips twist as he takes a sip of tea and casually reaches into his pocket to check his phone for whatever reason before he replaces it back into the depths of those jeans.
    "Thank you," For the milk he likely won't indulge in. But there's a pause as he follows Gile's gaze towards the outdoors and beyond. Tilting his head curiously he waits to see if the Watcher espies anything, but instead of pondering what is beyond he more considers he man himself.
    "You know, I am very selfish in some ways. Like when everything was a bit crazy here and that creature was outside. I helped you not because I'm heroic or altruistic. I helped you because I knew that the people I sort of liked spending time with, not even entirely friends, but just people that aren't entirely horrible... I knew they'd be sad. So to prevent that I thought I'd help."
    He takes another sip of tea, "But now that I've met you, Mr. Giles. I am glad I did for its own right."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles pays little mind to the phone checking. It's something that happens, and he's more or less used to it. "I have a fountain." Pause. "With wee little fishies." He chuckles about it not being entirely horrible as he walks back out of the shop proper and into the back. "Nobody out there, now." He considers the younger man, and then nods. "Helping someone because someone else will be sad isn't entirely unheroic," he points out.

"Or unaltruistic. Whatever your reasons for helping, I appreciate it." There's a warm smile at that last part. "I'm glad you did too. Rupert." He reaches for the box of sugar and takes one out to put it into his tea. He swirls it around with the use of the tea bag until it's dissolved and the tea is well and truly brewed into the water. He leaves the teabag where it is, in the cup still, as he take sa drink.

Phobos has posed:
    The face the young man makes doesn't exactly lend itself toward acceptance, more like he doesn't entirely agree but isn't willing to argue it further. Instead he murmurs, "My father met Buffy, some years ago. He told me a little about Slayers. Mainly that it's best to avoid them." His lip twists a touch.
    "Not that they're bad people or anything, more just that craziness follows them around. And I said to him that people likely would say the same thing about us, and our family." He takes another sip of tea, "But..."
    A glance is given toward the door for a moment before he looks back to Giles, "He didn't really tell me much about it, other than they fought mystical things. I could ask Buffy and Faith or whatever. But chances are all I'd get from them is some hassling about not knowing and then some teasing. Which seems often to be the case."
    He uncurls a hand, "So if you can tell me what you are allowed to about them, I'd be appreciative."

Phobos has posed:
    "I heard a bit about that part." Alexander's head tilts to the side as he considers Giles. "That it was an ancient conjuring, before history and my kind if I recall correctly?"
    His head tilts the other way as he draws one leg up and crosses it over his knee, a hand resting around his ankle as he looks thoughtful. "That the conjuring of such perpetual force took a great immensity of power at the time, that something very powerful had to be harnessed and great sacrifice as well to create that... eternal enchantment."
    He leans forwards a little. "Most of my encounters with strong magic along that sort of scale, they often are very negative. To gain that much power. Usually there's blood connected, or a grand reaping of some kind in offering. And for there to be two Slayers, you'd imagine conservation of energy would come into it that the power must be split between them."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
There is a knock at the door at that moment. The back door. "Pizza delivery!" Which would be odd because usually deliveries of that type were at the front. It even said to deliver to the front of the Magic Box on the little slip that was taped to the pizza box. She'd checked.

The pizza guy himself was long gone. She'd met him out front, paid for the order, then wandered to the back alley where her message had said to go.

The voice would be familiar to Alexander. Giles, not so much as they had never met, so he likely would think it a very confused delivery person who couldn't read simple instructions.

Loki has posed:
"So the story goes," agrees Giles. "The three mages were called Shadowmen. From what I understand, the magic was against the girl's will and she lost her humanity in the process. If I have a choice about it, Buffy will never have to face that." But, he might not have a choice about it, in the end. "At the beginning of the world, in prehistory, this was supposed to have happened. First came the Earth. Then Demons. And Men. A Girl was found. They bound her to the land and filled her with darkness." He shakes his head.

"They used a shadow demon's heart, soul, and spirit and imbued her with them. One of the first, a pure demon. I'm not certain what other sacrifices might have had to be made. That's not part of the stories I've been able to find." He nods, though, about the power diluting. "You would think so, yes," he says. "But that hasn't been the case with Buffy. Or Faith. Their powers haven't seemed diminished in any way."

Giles glances toward the back door at that knock, and rises to his feet. He walks over there and opens the door to.. a very unfamiliar face. "You must be Alexander's friend," he says, opening the door and stepping aside to allow Alexander a view there.

Rupert Giles has posed:
"So the story goes," agrees Giles. "The three mages were called Shadowmen. From what I understand, the magic was against the girl's will and she lost her humanity in the process. If I have a choice about it, Buffy will never have to face that." But, he might not have a choice about it, in the end. "At the beginning of the world, in prehistory, this was supposed to have happened. First came the Earth. Then Demons. And Men. A Girl was found. They bound her to the land and filled her with darkness." He shakes his head.

"They used a shadow demon's heart, soul, and spirit and imbued her with them. One of the first, a pure demon. I'm not certain what other sacrifices might have had to be made. That's not part of the stories I've been able to find." He nods, though, about the power diluting. "You would think so, yes," he says. "But that hasn't been the case with Buffy. Or Faith. Their powers haven't seemed diminished in any way."

Giles glances toward the back door at that knock, and rises to his feet. He walks over there and opens the door to.. a very unfamiliar face. "You must be Alexander's friend," he says, opening the door and stepping aside to allow Alexander a view there.

Phobos has posed:
    As the shop-owner spoke Alexander would listen, his head bobbing a few times as he considers what he's told and likely filing it away for later. His brow furrows a touch at one revelation and then the other, looking curious though a little dubious at the mention of Faith and Buffy's powers not being diminished. His brows raise as he considers the connotations of that as the back door is menaced by the ill-gotten pizza subverter.
    Over Giles' shoulder he'd hear the voice from his temporary flatmate, "Is it a short redhead with a bad attitude?" But if Natasha looks past the tall Englishman she'll likely see Alexander in that main room as he /leeeeeans/ on the seat where he's at to try and get a good sight line toward the back door.
    "Does she have my stuff as well as the pizza? Since my stuff is super important." Being that it's most likely just clothes and things to help him become a bit more human before the day of the moonrise.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
When the door opens, there is indeed a petite redhead there. She has on a pair of jeans, a plain black t-shirt, black short boots. Her red hair is styled in a pixie cut, quite short. She has a duffle bag slung over her right shoulder and a pizza box balanced atop her left hand.

"I am. A pleasure to meet you," she says to Giles as she eyes the blonde peeeeeking around behind him. She offers the pizza at least to the Englishman. "I found a pizza guy lurking out front and paid for this. Gave him a nice tip."

She steps in automatically as he steps aside, having assumed it was an invitation. Which means she isn't a vampire at least so yay! "I do not have a bad attitude," she adds with a little sniff, as though that was a hurtful thing to say. And immediately flings the duffle at Alexander, which should hit center body mass if he doesn't catch it.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Ill-gotten pizza subverter. If Giles was telepathic, that would probably make him laugh. As he isn't, he doesn't laugh. But he can see the expression on Alexander's face. "Indeed. It makes me wonder, now that I think about it, how the power doubled." And it really does make him wonder. He glances to Alexander then back to the woman at the door. "Well. Short and redhead is accurate. She doesn't seem to have an attitude?" He pauses and looks seriously at Alexander.

"Don't you know it's bad for your health to insult short women with any color of hair? And thrice as dangerous if it's a redhead?" He looks back to the woman. "She has a duffle bag, does that count?" He lifts his hands at the woman's words and rubs his forehead. "Bloody hell. Every time I tell them, come to the back. And every time, they go to the front and are afraid to even knock because it's a magic shop." He shakes his head.

Once the woman steps inside, he takes a moment to close, and lock, the door. Never know when vampires are lurking about. Him stepping aside had, afterall, been an invitation of sorts. That she comes in without an invitation doesn't really give any feelings of reassurance. Vampires have no problem walking into public buildings, of which this is one.

Now that the door is locked, Giles moves to the kettle and turns it back on. The water yet within is still on the hot end of things, so it only takes a minute or so to boil. After which, he turns it off and pours the hot water into a waiting tea cup. "Do you take milk with your tea? Sugar's on the table." In the form of little cubes in a box.

Phobos has posed:
    Alexander, having had some time slinging around a football, does indeed catch the duffel bag in the center of his chest, using it to cushion the impact as the bag makes a small whumpf. But then he's smiling and rolling to his feet, bringing himself to his full height and then setting the bag down there.
    "Mr. Giles, this is Nat." Perhaps mindful of her identity and letting her make her own choice as to how much she cares to impart to this stranger that Alexander extended of himself for. "Nat, this is Mr. Giles. He knows who I am as do a fair number of the other people around here. My dad, me, my background a bit." Though perhaps he pointedly doesn't mention that SHIELD side of things.
    As he finishes speaking he ends up beside her and leaning in to touch a small kiss to her brow in a form of caring hello before he turns back. "If he wants he can explain all the crazy that went down. Reader's Digest is that he got an old artifact that raised the ire of a distant uncle. So I'm here to make sure things go ok until they're resolved."
    And as if on cue the offer of tea is made and he reinforces it with, "It's good tea."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Milk would be wonderful, please," Natasha says to Giles. "And I appreciate you allowing him to stay for a bit." Although she only got the briefest of info in those texts.

She tilts her head just so to accept that kiss on her brow from Alexander. As Alexander explains a bit, she takes note of what is omitted and opts to just leave all that out of the equation.

And if Giles doesn't know who she actually is, she's not going to be throwing it around either.

"Distant uncle." Now that has her attention again and Natasha frowns slightly. "Your family have proven to be...difficult in the past. Is this going to be such a situation? Or being distant, is he less offensive than the others have proven to be during our encounters?"

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles hears the whumpf of the bag landing, but doesn't look. He takes the tea up and turns to walk over to the redhead, offering it to her. Hospitality with the English means tea. "Rupert Giles. It's a pleasure to meet you, Nat. You are welcome here." Ooh, even a formal welcome! Giles does indeed know a bit about Alexander, but he has no illusions about the fact that he is quite certain that's not all there is to it. And he certainly doesn't know about the SHIELD side of things. Giles might not know about SHIELD at all, in fact.

He goes on to say, "You're welcome to share the pizza too." Afterall, she'd paid for it! He shakes his head as he moves toward the mini fridge. "It's more me being grateful for his intervention. I'm not sure the divine serivtor hellhounds would have stopped, otherwise." And that could have gotten bad!

He doesn't comment on Alexander's family being difficult. They're mostly Greek. Of course they're difficult. What good Greek isn't? Especially /that/ family? "Sutekh has been fairly.. polite thus far," he offers.

Phobos has posed:
    The relatively young Olympian nods and seems to settle in at Natasha's side, resting a hand on her far hip for a moment as their near ones lightly bump. He shoots a small smile sidelong before he then starts to move after the Englishman as well, hellos are hellos, but pizza is pizza.
    "There was a creature outside, I yelled at it, turned out it was owned by a distant uncle, descended from the titans. Enough..." He walks along and then reaches that middle table in the main room, pulling out a bench seat for Natasha should she wish to sit, then he leans against the table proper with arms folding over his chest.
    "Enough that it triggered protocol and instead of further conflict we were able to chat some and wrangle things out. Hopefully this moonrise will be alright and then I'll be able to head back home."
    Those pale hazel eyes slip back toward Natasha and he gives a small shrug, "All part of the craziness of this area. I told you about the slayers and all. This is sort of the extended version."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Yes, I seem to recall that your father had difficulties with a Slayer here. Wait, Slayers?" That was plural and she arched a brow. "Buffy was her name. She tried to stab him and ruined a jacket he'd had for over forty years." A jacket that had been a gift from her 40 years ago but she wasn't adding /that in either. After all, her age was the best kept secret at SHIELD. Fury knew. A few others.

She accepted the tea with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Giles. And I will take you up on the offer of pizza as well." Since she came here after work and didn't have dinner yet.

She moved to the table, taking up a spot on the bench seat and putting down her cup after a sip of the tea. They were right. It was really good tea.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles pays absolutely no mind to the intimacy. He's pretty used to seeing it around, if not from these two specific people. Giles gets the milk from the fridge and walks it over to Nat, then glances to Alexander. "I imagine it's going to end in one of two ways. Alright, or not alright." Really isn't much of an in between in this sitation. He looks between the two and shrugs a little bit. "This is the Hellmouth. We're used to craziness here."

Milk delivered, he goes to retrieve plates. Three of them. And sets them next to the pizza. "Uh.. that sounds like Buffy. But she wouldn't attack someone for no reason. Why did she try to stab him?" He opens the box and reaches for a piece of the pizza, not shy at all in the doing so.

Phobos has posed:
    "Yeah, there's another one now. You'd like her." Or hate her. That's a strong possibility too when one considers the normal range of reactions that Faith can conjure. But Alexander doesn't elaborate about the dad situation since he only heard that second and third hand, to be fair.
    Alexander then settles back onto a bench seat, not the same one as Natasha's, but beside it so that when Giles eventually settles in should he choose to do so, he'll be equi-distant between them both. "Apparently she got a bad vibe from him. She got the same when she first met me so probably something to do with our magicalness." A glance is given toward Nat to see if she'd reinforce that observation before he looks back.
    "But I'm hopeful for things going well. Sutekh seems reasonable."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Knowing nothing about Slayers really, Natasha's not aware there should only be one of them. She just knew the one Slayer Ares had met existed and was named Buffy. It was far into that magical realm which was so far beyond her area it wasn't funny.

"Thank you again," she says to Giles as he brings out the milk. She adds some to her tea, putting a spoon in to stir the contents. She'd already added one sugar but this would have it just right.

"It was something about that. She thought he was a monster or some such." She shrugged, truly not understanding that there was a Slayer sense involved.

"The Hellmouth?" That is another term she isn't aware of and honestly? It doesn't sound like a good thing at all.

She accepts her plate with her piece of pizza but doesn't take a bite yet.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles will settle eventually, and once he's put the milk away. Which he does while eating the piece of pizza. He raises a brow at the explanation. "Probably that's the reason, then." He takes a bite of pizza. He nods agreement about Sutekh and settles equidistant between the two. "He did seem reasonable. Which makes me nervous. Nothing I've ever heard about Egyptian gods or Greek gods has /ever/ said they were reasonable." Thus, he's going to remain wary. "Even so, the contract seems to be in order." What he doesn't say is that he'd already signed it. Maybe Alexander is aware of that?

He smiles at Nat. "You're welcome." Giles nods about the Slayer. "That makes sense." He doesn't expand on the Slayer senses. Alexander is known and trusted. Nat.. well. Isn't. So he's a little reluctant to share too much. He nods. "The Hellmouth." It isn't a good thing. At all. "Demons come out of it. It's under what remains of Sunnydale High School."

Phobos has posed:
    Which reminds Alexnder of the foil-wrapped half-sandwich he has on the table as well which he then slides over to Natasha, "Here, take this home and have it for dessert, it's super yummy." And chances are she might never have heard of a deep fried banana and peanut butter sandwich.
    Though after that contribution Alexander settles back into the conversation. "And yah, most any god is not going to be reasonable at least on some things. I mean, I like to think I'm relatively stable and normall-ish." Though there's a moment he squints sidelong at Natasha as if ready for her to offer some rejoinder to give him the business before he continues.
    "But even I have my points of irascibility depending on what's going on." He only then avails himself of a piece of pizza as he adds, "Like when people put pineapple on these things. Insanity."
    That said he takes a bite and chews. And chews for a time. Chews some more, swallows. "Giles' job is basically to..." He seems inclined to explain, "Watch over and give guidance to the younglings."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
As the sandwich is pushed over, Natasha glances at the foil wrap curiously. She takes a moment to unwrap it partly then just stares at whatever it is she just opened. A moment later it is wrapped back up. But he hasn't lied to her about food before so hopefully it is indeed super yummy.

She then picks up her pizza as he points out his being stable and normal. She just stuffs her mouth full of food and chews thoughtfully for a long moment then ruins it by smirking. "Just kidding. Yes, you have seemed very normal as long as I've known you." Well outside his upbringing but that was more his father and not him.

"So you have a opening to hell in your high school. Why is that not as weird as it probably should be?" she asks curiously before continuing. "So you help teach these Slayers?"

Rupert Giles has posed:
There is, of note, no pineapple on the pizza. "Of course there's going to be irascibility over certain things. Everyone has their moments. But you're unlikely to cause flood or famine, right? Or destroy an entire city because someone in it pisses you off." Giles might be making assumptions there. But, he also has trust in Alelxander. "I'm a Watcher. I guide and train. I'm the one they all come to when they have questions." He sounds amused.

He must have been hungry, for Giles finishes that first piece and claims a second. "Under," he corrects. "Under our highschool, not actually in it." He eats a bite and swallows it before answering the latter question. "Yes. I help teach the Slayers." That might give a hint that he knows at least something of fighting.

Phobos has posed:
    "No," Alexander answers as he considers a few things, his own gaze drifting a little as he takes another bite. "Never done anything quite that bad." He chews for a time. Swallows.
    "They also have a lot of vampires hanging out. Or a few. Seems like a lot." Though perhaps the ones they have are just so prominent that they seem like a lot of vampires. "And that Willow magical gal I told you about. She spends time here. And Wessex. He's British so sort of horning in on Mr. Giles' turf. I think they'll have to have a fist fight soon to see which one of them gets to stay in town."
    There's that dead-pan tone of his, perhaps he's joking... perhaps not. Ok he's joking. But he sells the serious so well.
    "Oh, also, just so you know. Mr. Giles didn't have any hand in summoning me that one time. So don't get mad at him."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"That's good to know so I don't have to punch him," Naasha says deadpan. Which might make Giles think she's serious. Although Alexander should know she's kidding.

"Seriously, you said she summoned you. Unless Giles here identifies as female?" Which she realizes could be a thing so she looks over at Giles curiously. "I don't want to cause any offense."

Picking up her pizza and taking a bite of it.

Rupert Giles has posed:
"Two vampires," says Giles. "Spike and Thomas. Thomas isn't.. well. I think he's more of a succubus than a vampire." Giles blinks and turns to stare at Alexander. "Fist fight? Why would Nicolas and I have a fist fight? I'm very clearly the owner of the turf." His lips twitch. He pauses and blinks again. "Summoning you? I suppose.. people do still do that, don't they? They summon demons often enough, why not gods too?" Giles shakes his head.

He takes the comments of not having to be punched without seeming to be worried. "If you do, be a dear and let me put padding on first?" And then? Then a laugh is startled out of Giles. "No. I don't identify as female." What would that be like? Giles rises to his feet, pizza in hand and wanders, now lost in thought, toward the front of the shop.

Phobos has posed:
    "My money would be on you, Mr. Giles." Alexander responds to the tall fellow first with a wry smile. But then he nods, "And yes, Willow summoned me once. It was... a strange experience." But then it's to Natasha he turns.
    "Just figured you might be painting with a large brush, Natasha." Alexander says as he takes another bite, then he sets the pizza down and takes a deep breath. "C'mon, we should ramble about work stuff some before you head out."
    Alexander lightly rests a hand on Natasha's shoulder as he then rises from his seat. "Thanks for the hospitality, Mr. Giles."
    And with that he'll rise and mosey for the door, likely leaving Giles to his thoughts as Nat and Alex wander to the back door to exchange tales of the days apart.