[And despite that...] it doesn't make any sense
score_forlogic used with permission.
Illusion is the first of all pleasures. -Oscar Wilde
"I get how it looks, I do."
Willow was pacing behind Xander, holding the sent envelope as well as its contents. Xander hadn't expected a package - of course the weirdest packages were always the most unexpected. Willow couldn't help be grateful that it wasn't the arm of The Judge or a box of delicious spiders. Oh, how Sunnydale had hardened the witch.
"Xander, this is more than just a family resemblance. It's more than a twin resemblance," she said, setting the two photographs down on the table. What unnerved her is Wes' "photograph" was clearly not taken in Sabassis' lair - had he had a lair? - and that meant he had to've been moved. Illyria?
"How did this not come up on our radar before? he asked, bringing his hand up. He thought back to every time he sat back and watched something political involving the senator. Oh, right. He lived under a news rock. Health reform what?
"To be honest, I never saw a resemblance," she admitted, leaning over Xander. He couldn't help but turn his head slightly a sniff - perhaps a trait left behind from Lubov's visit. "Did you just sniff me?" Xander turned forward. "Xander, honey, we don't need a repeat of early senior year. We are well past flukes."
"Hey, I'm in the know about Sappho, thanks," Xander huffed. Willow raised an eyebrow. "What? I read!" Willow snorted and brought her attention back to the photograph of Senator Perrin. "Why didn't we see it before?"
"Think we just answered that one. We weren't looking for it. How would we've known?" she asked. Standing up, she began to pace again before stopping and closing her eyes.
"Doing your...sensing thing?"
"Xander."
"Sorry. I can be quiet."
Willow concentrated, feeling the energies around her. Buffy was clear, Dawn as well, she was in Berkeley. But, Wes. Wes couldn't be felt. He was dead. Wes had died years ago. And yet, there were no energies for the man in the photograph before them. Opening her eyes, she frowned.
"Something's blocking me. I don't feel anything for the senator." Xander chuckled and she thwacked him for it. "I mean his aura, Xander. It's as if -- he's a doll. He's plastic. I don't...feel humanity. It's...as if all he is, is an illusion. Like, it's not him in there." She pursed her lips and looked in Xander's direction who shared her look of puzzled worry. Picking up the note left inside the envelope, Willow read the words aloud for the fifth time that night.
"See a resemblance? Dollhouse." She sighed and brought her hands to her temples. "Dollhouse?"
Xander shrugged.
"Dollhouse...house of dolls? Doll - parts? Dollsome?" She huffed again and dropped the note on the table. "I don't know what to tell you Xander."
"But...it is of the weird, right?" he asked, picking up the two photographs and holding them side by side.
"Xander, it's weird with a capital W - and E...and I-R-D for that matter."
"It's WEIRD!" he exclaimed. Willow simply agreed with him, nodding.