Back to the Future, Biff/George/Lorraine, forgotten (Part 1 of 2)
He woke up on the ground in the parking lot, and he didn't know where he was. His front pocket was empty - the almanac the old man had handed him was gone, if it had ever existed in the first place. McFly had a pretty good hook for a total grind.
It was a couple of days later that he squared his shoulders and decided to be a man about it. He'd lost, fair and square. When two men settled their differences over a woman with their fists, they were supposed to respect each other.
"McFly." Why was it so hard to look him in the eyes? "I'm - yeah. Good work." He could feel McFly's knuckles on his jaw, still. He'd never remembered anything so clearly.
McFly looked up at him, glasses on straight for once. "Biff, you can't keep going around calling me McFly like that."
"So what - " He stopped. He didn't want to argue. He didn't want to say what came out next, either. "McFly, tell Lorraine - tell her I'm sorry. I was drunk. I didn't mean to hurt her or anything."
A cool voice came from behind his shoulder: "You can tell me yourself, Biff Tannen."
He closed his eyes and turned half around, ashamed to face her. McFly had knocked some sense into him - or maybe out of him, he wasn't sure - but the world was upside down. "Lorraine, I was - you gotta forgive me."
"No, I don't have to." He heard her shoes click to McFly's side, listened to the rustle of her sleeve as she wrapped one arm around McFly's waist. "But I might anyway, if you're good from now on."
"Good?" Biff opened one eye. "Whaddaya mean, good?"
"She means," McFly said in a strangely low voice, "that you've spent a long time trying to push us around. That's over now."
His shoulders sagged, and he turned to head back towards the gym with its familiarity, if not safety. It was Lorraine's voice that stopped him. "I think it's time," she purred, "that you took orders from us for a while. To pay off your debt to us."
"I don't take orders from anyone," he said, reflexively. His mouth was dry.
"No one's ever laid you out in one punch before," McFly pointed out. "And I bet I could do it again, if I had to." He curled his fingers into a fist. Something stirred deep in Biff's gut. "And it'd be better than being enemies, wouldn't it?"
Biff swallowed, eyes flicking between that fist and Lorraine's bosom, which he could have sworn was just starting to heave. "You got an order for me?"
"Two, actually." McFly smiled, a slow, tight, burning look in his eyes. "First, meet us behind Old Man Booker's farm at 9 tonight, and don't be late. Second, call me George."
"Yes, sir, George," Biff said, and suddenly nine o'clock was an eternity away.