Neutral Omens

It was one of those days. Pepper been working in late summer sun for too man hours, she was covered in dirt and sweat, and she really didn't feel like going up to her room for fear of locking herself in and sleeping the rest of the day away.

Perhaps a drink was in order.

So Pepper stepped heavily and finally made her way to the bar. Seemed like she was the only one around.... Not quite.

Pepper tensed instantly, an echoing ache in her head reminding her of what had happened last time she had met this particular being. She wasn't in any hurry to repeat the incident, but she really wanted that drink, so she headed over to the bar, figuring she could just take the drink up to her room and come down again when it was safer.

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War took a sip of her whiskey, and sat back in her chair. She'd just about decided no one was coming when she heard heavy footsteps outside. Looking over to the door, she saw who they belonged to, and grimaced. Not a friendly face, but Pepper, Adam's friend who she'd lost her cool over and attacked at the barbecue.

Still, an apology was in order, she thought, especially after the way Adam had reacted. Gritting her teeth, she walked over to the bar where the girl was now standing, palms open at her sides so she could see she was unarmed.

"I think I owe you an apology." War knit her eyebrows. apologising wasn't really her style. "Can I get you this drink, and then we can sit down? I won't take much of your time."

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Pepper heard the footsteps behind her and thought maybe she should bolt for the door before she got slammed again, but she couldn't move for some reason. And then War was speaking and...

Whatever Pepper had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. An apology from the personification of war? Wasn't that the biggest cosmic oxymoron of all time? Pepper couldn't remember what Adam had said to War, so she was hard pressed to figure out why the woman would apologize to her. However, she couldn't think of a reason to refuse the invitation, seeing as the woman seemed sincere. Pepper was good at judging things like that.

"Sure," she said warily. "I'll have whatever you're having, I guess."

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"If you're sure... two Glenfiddichs it is, then."

War shifted uncomfortably while the drinks were poured: she didn't really know what to say to the girl, and they hadn't exactly parted on amicable terms. She put the money down on the counter, and picked up the glasses.

"Shall we?" she said, heading towards the table she'd just vacated, and setting the glasses down upon it.

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Pepper followed War back to her table and sat down across from her, keeping her hands on the tabletop. Standard protocol for making sure there was no hosility - prove that you weren't fingering any weapons. It seemed the logical thing to do considering who she was facing, although Pepper was struck by her textbook defensive instincts in that moment.

She glanced at the liquid in her glass and wondered briefly if War had poisoned it, seeing as it was probably the sort of thing she could do by touching the glass or blinking at it, but Pepper also knew that Adam wasn't about to let her die that way and so she took a sip. Certainly not the strongest alcohol she'd ever sampled, but she didn't drink hard liquor frequently. She'd just have to get used to it, she supposed.

"So..." she trailed off. She wasn't the one who'd wanted to start this anyway. Better let the lady say what she wanted first.

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War swirled her whiskey round her glass, looking into it almost speculatively, then looked across the table at the young woman opposite her.

"I wanted to apologise for what I did at the barbecue. I hadn't expected to see you, and I over-reacted."

War had not had much practise at apologising. She knocked back half her whiskey, then said, "Anyway, I'm sorry."

She imperceptibly narrowed her eyes, and sighed. That probably hadn't worked too well, but it was about the best she could do.

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Pepper snorted in spite of herself. "Yeah, 'overeacted' would be the word for it, I suppose." Pepper's brain quickly smacked itself back in order. The woman had apologized. It was probably best not to test her, so she should be keeping her big mouth shut.

All right, try again. She took a swig of her whiskey to keep up and clenched her throat tight because she sure as hell wasn't going to cough in front of this woman. "S'alright. No permanent damage done, I think. Well, unless I count that nasty argument I got into as a result, but that's all settled now. Haven't seen you around much, though - you been gone?"

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War tensed at the girl's words - an instinctive reaction - but she forced herself to relax as she saw the girl bite them back. This wasn't exactly wasy or comfortable for either of them.

War noted the comment about the argument, but decided it wasn't something to pry into right them. Being one of Adam's old friends, Pepper might decide to go to him and try to get her out of the Manor if this didn't go well.

Focussing on the girl's question, she replied, "I've been in East Timor - things have been going on there, and seems I was needed to... help things along."

She thought for a moment, took another sip of whiskey, and said, "You travelled much?"

There was no harm in attempting civil conversation, she thought.

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Pepper couldn't help it; she was curious. She couldn't help but wonder what it meant to be a personfication of War, the real thing. To be the cause of people fighting, or at least the embodiment of it. And while she was a pacifist at heart, being raised by the mother that she had, Pepper also couldn't help the fact that she liked fighting. There was someone undeniably honest about it, a real open show of emotion in the raw, of what it meant to be human. She didn't wish devastating war on anyone, but she still found fighting to be one of her most useful forms of communication, and she wondered what it meant to this woman. After all, why was she the one who had faced her down that day? "So... what was happening in East Timor? What did you start there?"

She shook her head at the question. "Nah, not much. Been in London at uni the past two years, but other than that, I've only been to France once on a school trip. Not very interesting, just lookin' at lotsa paintin's and such."

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It was all public knowledge now, so there was little use in being guarded with her information.

"I wasn't personally involved in anything, not any direct fighting I mean. Things were happening anyway - they didn't need me there to start it off - so I just went along to keep an eye on things, keep them ticking over. The militia were starting to lose interest, and all that would have done would have been to have left the situation stale, neither war nor peace."

"I don't always travel, you see - sometimes, it's not necessary for me to actually be there. They all know about me - or the conception of me - anyway."

War found herself intrigued by the girl. Interesting, she noted, and looked at her narrowly. "How much fighting have you ever done?"

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Pepper nodded. "So really, what you're doing is good in a way. Makes everyone move forward and solve the problem." Not that Pepper really thought war was a good thing in any country for any group of people, but from a different perspective, she could see why this woman's work was important.

"It would be hard having to be so many places at once," she pointed out. Like Adam had said, War was fighting. So that meant she couldn't be there in person for every fight that ever broke out among humans.

At the question about fighting, Pepper shrugged. "I've done a lot of staged combat: hand to hand, foil, single sword, broadsword, quartstaff, knife-fighting. Trained in karate and took a few classes in some other things. Other than that, just lots of playground fights against boys twice my size."

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"It certainly would," War agreed.

War thought silently, fast and furious. There weren't many people who recognised that what she did wasn't necessarily a bad thing, let alone thought it remotely good. She knocked back the last few drops of her whiskey, then looked at Pepper speculatively.

"You're fast, that's for sure. How would you like to join me and a few others for practice sessions?"

Adam had said that the sessions could be for anyone with excess energy to burn off.

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Fast? Was that... sort of a compliment? Pepper wasn't sure how she should feel about that coming from who it did, but the woman's question left her undeniably eager for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint. "Sure," she said, knocking back the rest of her whiskey to mirror War, feeling very proud that she didn't even feel like choking on it this time around. "I could use the practice. And some instruction, really." Although, she had better tell Adam she was planning on doing it, less he have a fit and come running.

"Who else practices with you?"

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War grinned internally, just a little. The girl had spirit, that was for sure.

"We've not actually had any so far - it was only suggested at the barbecue, and then I was gone pretty soon after. But certainly, Mictain and the Doctor were planning on joining - have you met them? There may be others, though."

"Instruction in formal technique, you mean? Or instruction in how to practice what you know?"

If she was going to do this, she might as well do something vaguely productive with the time rather than have everyone lash out at things.

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"Met the Doctor," Pepper said with a smile. He was nice enough, though she couldn't really imagine him fighting someone. Seemed too talkative and friendly for it. Too trusting, as well. But she supposed appearences were deceiving enough, as it was true for more than one person she knew. And in the sort of environment they were in, it would be good for all of them to know how to defend themselves.

She shrugged at the other inquiry. "Both? Whatever you'd be willing to offer, really. I'm sure the group would have their own ideas on what to practice, so I'd be willing to go along with them, if that's how we work it." Put it in front of her, Pepper would try it at least once. She was always willing.

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War inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. Co-ordinating a group would be much easier if people weren't going to be too fussy about what they did.

"Well, whenever it's going to happen, I'll put a notice up downstairs. Like II say, it's not a formal thing, just practice and maybe a bit of training to help the practice along."

War glanced speculatively at the empty glasses. "Feel like another drink?"

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Pepper nodded. "Good to know. I'll be there." She hoped she could keep up. War was experienced far beyond her wildest imaginings, after all....

She looked at the bottom of her empty glass and then toward the bar. "Sure, why not?"

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John came wandering in with nothing more than a quiet Glenlivet on his mind (and maybe to catch up on what Belial and the Snob had been up to.) He paused just inside the door when he found the place occupied by two stunning redheads who, last time he'd seen them in the same place, had been trying their level best to pound each other into the grass of the Manor lawn.

"H'lo ladies," he greeted them cautiously. The bar still seemed to be intact, which he took as a good sign. "Called a truce, or am I taking my life in my hands if I come in for a shot of whiskey?"

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Pepper's eyes were drawn to the bar entrance when she heard a familiar low voice. His tone and the look on his face were enough to make her grin. "I think you're takin' your life in your hands even if we have called a truce," she told him, standing up with her glass in hand. "What if we've decided to team up an' take all our aggression out on you?"

Then she laughed. "Honestly now, you really think I'd be standin' here talkin' to you if we were still bein' hostile? After how it turned out last time?" After how furious Adam got over it? was the silent part of that rhetorical question. "Probably be lying in a pretty pool o' blood, me."

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John raised his eyebrows fractionally. "Christ, between her right cross and your overhand throw I'd be a goner for sure. Just give me some advance warning if you ever have a rematch so I can be out of the country, yeah?" He grinned, addressing the remark to Pepper but winking at War at the same time. It was honestly a relief to see they weren't fighting any longer, whatever the first scuffle had been about. He liked both of them and had never much cared for taking sides.

"So what're you drinking? Lemme buy you a round," he added, heading for the bar. "Bunnahabhains, War?"

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War relaxed inside when John winked at her, letting go of a tension she hadn't realised she was feeling. She hadn't realised she was concerned about what other people thought of her. Well, not all people, she corrected herself. Just the friendly ones.

She grinned and said, "You thought the right cross was bad... you've never felt the left one!", then winked back.

"Bunnahabain it is, thanks."

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"You thought the overhand throw was bad, you've never felt the shin kick," Pepper echoed, chuckling. After all, that was what had sent the boys running on the playground whe she was little. That and the biting. Sharp feet and sharp teeth, that's what they always had to say about her. Sharp tongue too, but she rarely let it get in the way when she felt that all the boy needed was a good pounding.

She figured she shouldn't keep to the hard liquor if she was going to continue with coherent conversation. Pepper's tolerance wasn't bad, but she wouldn't chance it around people she didn't know really well. "Actually, if you find a Guinness over there, jus' toss it to me, will you?" She couldn't help it; true to her red hair and freckles the Irish bit of her hertitage had clung to her in certain ways.

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John paused a fraction of a second too long at that, but managed a "Sure" that sounded almost casual, almost normal. Dammit, why did the girl have to act so bloody familiar? At least, he reflected, she didn't have black hair or an accent.

He picked up the drinks for the ladies and his Glenlivet with both hands and carried them back to their table, setting them down with exaggerated care. "There we are, not a drop spilled. Like I'd dare, right?" He chuckled and pulled up a chair without waiting for an invitation, dropping into it and regarding the two attractive women appreciatively enough to imply a compliment without pushing it too far. It had been some time since he'd had a chance to practice that particular skill, but it was an old enough habit to come reflexively.

"So, not to sound cliched, but what are two lovely ladies like yourselves doing in a place like this? Discussing which of us male types gets clobbered next or just going right for world domination?"

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Pepper tilted her head, wondering at the tiny catch in John's voice, but not saying anything about it. Wasn't her place to pry. Besides, for all she knew, it could have just been part of that smoker's cough of his.

She pulled her glass in with a "thanks" once he set it down on the table, and smiled as he pulled up his chair. Then she took a few quick gulps of her Guinness as she realized that she and War were being looked over. Not because John had crossed a line, but because Pepper didn't really think it was something that she'd ever get used to, being looked at that way. Now that she was back in Tadfield, now that she was Pep again and not Pippin, she had really forgotten what it was like being treated as female. And just as she had when Crowley looked at her, she prayed that she wasn't blushing. It was just silly.

His question helped to get her mind off of it, and she quirked her eyebrows amusedly. "Oh, I never plan which male types I clobber, it just sort of happens." Which was true enough. The corner of her mouth twisted wryly. "I'm all for the discussion of world domination, really. Although, this prob'ly isn't the place to be plannin' it."

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War grinned, noticing Pepper noticing John's look. As far as she was concerned, she never gave such things a second thought - it seemed to happen rather a lot when she was out drinking, and as long as they didn't try anything she just enjoyed the attention - assuming she was in a good mood, of course.

"She's right, you know," she commented. "Planning takes all the fun out of it, unless it's pretty general - like, "All those ones over there!""

Privately she thought, IF we wanted to try, all of us here, I reckon we could take over the world, easy. She had more sense than to voice this out loud, and took a sip of the whiskey instead.

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Pepper laughed at War's jibe. Mainly because it was true, more than anything. But they still hadn't given John an answer to his question, not straight at least. "We were just talkin' about me joining her practice sessions. For combat trainin' and all that." SHe wasn't going to bother commenting on the irony of the situation, seeing how obvious it was.

Pepper stared at John speculatively. She normally didn't take to people that fast, but his help during the picnic had provoked and swift and solid trust that wasn't shaking, and she was deadly curious as to how he'd ended up in Adam's sphere. "John? You mind if I ask how you ended up 'ere? I mean, no one's said anything, but you," are in pretty deep here, "'ave clearly been here for a while. I was just wonderin' how it happened, since no one normally shows up without an invite, as it were." There she raised an eyebrow pointedly, trusting he'd know what she meant.

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"Combat training? You're not dangerous enough already?" John chuckled softly. "But that's a damn good question. I came by to drop something off for Crowley and..." He shrugged. "Never got around to leaving, I guess. Adam wasn't expecting me, I gather, but he doesn't seem to mind." He wasn't sure if he could explain succinctly the several decades' worth of history that had prepared him to cope with a place like the Manor, insofar as any mortal could. "Me and weird have sort of got a history like that."

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"It'll be more focussing skills than turning out a force of elite fighters," War pointed out. "And hopefully if people have chance to work out their energy, Adam reckons things might be a bit calmer."

"As for you - I don't think there's a one of us here that hasn't got a fairly solid relationship going with wierd. Can't say it bothers me too much - just seems to keep things interesting," she grinned.

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Pepper blinked inwardly. Adam wasn't expecting John when he came? Wasn't that kind of... impossible? She narrowed her eyes on him sharply, half-smiling. "You're not tellin' me somethin', John," she teased. "Unless you mean weird by a definition that is a lot more interestin' than the usual." Which was probably the case, so she eyed her glass of Guinness pointedly. "I'd probably have to be pretty drunk to hear about it, wouldn't I?"

She nodded at War's comment, adding, "Yeah, and I need to tighten up what I know. Too many gaps. It was too easy for her to get me on the ground," she said with a smile in the woman's direction. Not that it would have been easy for anyone to stay standing, but Pepper liked to think that it shouldn't have happened so fast.

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John's eyebrows shot up. "I could spend a year telling you what I'm not telling you, luv." He drained his glass, adding contemplatively, "Can't say about you, but I'd have to be profoundly pissed."

He laughed sharply at War's remark. "Now where were you when Raphael was running around with a bad case of can't-fight-for-shit? I hope Adam's right. Things have been quiet lately and it's starting to make me nervous. Usually means somebody's gearing up to throw a motherfucker of a tantrum."

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"Mmmm" War said speculatively. Fighting was all well and good, but there were people in the Manor that she - well, people she regarded as a bit more than cannon fodder, and she didn't really want anyone to cause a huge ruckus in the place where she had all her pretties. "Oh, well..." she said to herself, and the corner of her mouth quirked in a wry smile. War opposed to conflict? Something was going wrong.

"Some place else," she shrugged, in response to John's question. "I missed all that."

Turning to Pepper, she tilted her head towards the glass. "Want another one?" she asked, her own empty glass in her hand. "And don't put yourself down. You got me on the floor too, after all." Her eyes flashed with laughter as she said, "If you come to training you can learn how to do it without putting out someone's neck, too, so you can enjoy the rest of the fight." She was joking - a little bit, anyway.

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Pepper blinked a little at the comment on Raphael. Did John mean the angel? She supposed he did since there were plenty of them around. Still, what he said was disconcerting, now that she thought of it. Pepper hadn't been around long - she didn't know the kind of trouble that usually happened around the manor, although Adam had hinted here and there. What should she be looking for, and would she be able to do anything at all when the time came?

She looked up at War, and partially influenced by the morbid turn her thoughts had taken, she downed the rest of her glass in a few short swallows. "Sure, thanks," she answered, appreciating the maybe-joke on the other woman's end. "Sounds like fun. Neck safety is always a bitch."

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