Who: Spike, Willow, Xander, and Buffy Where: Spike’s hotel room When: October 2, afternoon What: A little Scooby reunion Status: Closed, incomplete Rating: PG
"I'm sorry, but having a soul's made me gone all soft," Spike told Buffy. "My witty repartee's gone downhill since turning good guy. No wonder you Scoobies failed at Scathing Comebacks 101." More to himself, he grumbled, "I could think up other names for you, but I don't think the present company would much appreciate it."
Tilting his head as he looked at the pair of girls, he asked, "Willow was a vampire? I must've missed that memo." He leaned back against the wall, suddenly deep in thought. "That must've been quite an adventure...." His voice trailed off as the edges of his lips turned upwards in a faint smile. Evil Willow. It had its appeal. Hell, even Spike had offered to do the honors and sire her once.
The sound of Xander's knock made him sit straight up. "What, me? No." The confused words came out in a rush, as though he was being accused of something. When he realized what Xander had said, he murmured, "Tch. Don't tell me he gets a cookie."
Standing, he put his hands out as though to separate the two groups before anyone jumped to conclusions. "Everyone get their knickers untwisted, all right? No one's saying there's anything wrong with her. Hell, I started out a little backwards when I came into this town, and look at me." As though realizing something, he added, "All right, maybe I'm not a shining example."
We should probably establish a posting order?the_golden_girlOctober 5 2008, 02:31:55 UTC
Not lowering her hand from over her mouth. Buffy merely shook her head at Spike. Not going to add her opinion to that matter. Why? Because she had had perfectly good quips back in the day. Still did! No reason to defend herself or the others for their comebacks.
“Vamp!Willow wasn’t an adventure.” She said with sadness, remembering just how it felt when she thought her best friend had died. That she hadn’t been able to save her. It tore Buffy apart to this day just thinking about the maybe’s if that night hadn’t turned out the way it had.
“She’s not our Willow.” The Slayer told Xander in no uncertain terms, “She’s not from this timeline. She’s from freshman year at UCS.” Now her hand rubbed at her jaw it work, trying to rid the tension there from having clenched her jaw so tight.
Tilting her head up so she could glance at Spike, Buffy partially agreed with him. There was more than a chance that there was something wrong with Willow. She time traveled. Something like that took its toll on a person. Spike was case in point. Hell, she had come back wrong herself. “Things like that have a way of coming back to bite you on the ass, proverbial and literal, Spike.” Back to Willow, “We’re here though. No matter what, got it? You’re still Willow. Here or there, you are ours.” She finalized after having considered it. Willow was Willow no matter where she was from. So long as she wasn’t the kind to eat her buds.
That might be goodgeeky_willowOctober 6 2008, 00:26:19 UTC
(Sorry I hadn't posted earlier - originally I was waiting for you since you'd said you'd be gone on saturday, and when I tried to connect to the i-net this morning it was being a doushe. For any awkwardness in this post I apologize!! I need to find a way to re-insert myself into the fold XD )
Nine years? Disbelief flooded Willow's eyes, followed closely by a soft, heavy pain. No wonder so much had changed in both of her blond compatriots; Willow felt as if she'd flipped to the end of the Story of Sunnydale, with no context or comprehension of the characters involved. Searchingly, Willow scrutinized her friend's face, noting all the tiny differences between this Buffy, and the one Willow had known.
An odd white noise born of too much emotional upheaval in too short a time filled Willow's inner ear, and she entirely missed the teasing repartee between the other two. Unconsciously, Willow bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood; the mint-metal taste jolting her out of her self-imposed reverie.
A desperate yearning for her own home throbbed through Willow's slender frame, but as she was simply too spent to cry, Willow gnawed at her lower lip until Xander's voice made her glance up hopefully. Struck speechless a second time at the sight of her friend's face, minus an eye, Willow silently mouthed his name. Spike had warned her, but the reality was unimaginably different from her own expectation. He carried himself like a man used to battle scars, as well as their acquisition.
Buffy's firm pronouncement made a fleeting smile cross, ghostlike, across Willow's lips, and she nodded gratefully. After a sibilant intake of breath, the dam broke and she wept pitifully into her fingers. The sound was uniquely quiet; the tiny whispering cries of the lost. "T-thanks." She managed to mumble around her palms.
Re: That might be goodxan_da_manOctober 6 2008, 01:24:37 UTC
((If this is to much godmodding just tell me Willow-mum.))
It was the one thing he'd never been able to take. "Come here." He said gently and enfolded the weeping Willow into his arms. Much like that time on the bluff.
"Shhh, it's alright, we're here." He looked up at Buffy. He had absolutely no idea what they needed to do. None.
I'm assuming it's my turn.can_we_rest_nowOctober 6 2008, 04:58:11 UTC
((OOC- Sorry for holding people up; my 'net was made of serious FAIL this weekend. :/ ))
Spike quirked an eyebrow when Buffy mentioned the fact that time traveling had a way of coming back to haunt a person, particularly intrigued with her wording. "I've been never been literally bit in the ass by this sort of thing, pet, and I won't ask after your personal experiences. Actually, I think I will... just not now."
He watched Willow and Xander's interaction for a moment before taking another contemplative sip of blood. Wonderful, so everyone was being all weepy and love-dovey and emotional. Soul or not, this sort of thing never did sit well with Spike. "Not to rain on your little Kumbaya parade," he mentioned, "but I'd be disappointed in you lot if you didn't accept the witch with open arms. Of course she's the same person; regardless of which dimension she's come from, the very fact that she exists and remembers all of us is proof enough that, up until this point in time, she's still her." Muttering to himself before taking another sip, he quietly added, "Maybe we can even prevent certain things from ever happening to this Willow."
After swallowing his blood, he put the container down and looked at Xander. "I met a witch here, name of Moira. Don't know if you know her, but maybe she'd be able to help make sure that it really isn't amnesia. After that, I don't know what you're planning on doing with her...." Looking to Willow, he smirked, "Truth be told, I wouldn't mind having Red around for company. She's the only one of the Scoobies that I never utterly despised, even back when I was evil." To Buffy, he explained, "I sort of had to hate you on principle, love. No hard feelings?"
I guess it'll go; Chelle, Paula, Janet and then me. That cool with ya'll? ^_^the_golden_girlOctober 6 2008, 14:25:42 UTC
When Willow broke into tears, Xander was the first to jump in. Buffy right on his heels after he looked up to her. Instantly she had Willow, too, wrapped in a hug. Her arms crossing over Xander's and holding them both tightly, but never Slayer strength tightly. "We'll figure something out." She breathed gently, "Don't we always?" A glimmer of a smile and hope in her words. Soothing down Willow's hair before she pulled back, Buffy wiped at the corner of her own eyes to rid herself of her own tears. Watching Willow go through the motions was hard when all she wanted to do was fix her.
"I'm not sure we're supposed to stop things from happening, Spike." Buffy said as she rose to her feet, snagging a glass of water for the redhead. She knew the room well enough now to know where everything was. "This might be the bit that does stop certain events from happening or it might not." Filling the glass with cold tap water, she closed the distance between her and the bed, handing over the glass for Willow.
"Maybe we should call Giles?" As much as she didn't want to, she knew he'd likely be the best resource they had for help. Other than this times Willow who was somewhere with Kennedy. Where she was very much unreachable.
Raising a brow at Spike's comment, Buffy added a shrug. "That's okay. No hard feelings. I kind of hated you, too." The blonde returned the sentiment with love and a grin.
"Moira. She helped Spike when he first came back. She could be really good help in this case." Buffy mumbled, turning to Willow, "I think she should stay, for now, at least. Not like we know what to do anyway. But I'd peg younger Xander and me, and Giles to be worried about you after a few days. Especially after what happened. Yanno?" It was the gods honest truth. Had their Willow here and now gone missing, she was sure as the sun came up every morning that they'd be frantic for their witch.
"So, we call Moira, then?" This time she looked up at Xander in questioning. If he knew Moira, he'd know her the best and would be able to tell if she could help Willow. "What about Lorne?" It was another thought, "He reads people. He could tell if she's from now or if she isn't."
Re: I guess it'll go; Chelle, Paula, Janet and then me. That cool with ya'll? ^_^geeky_willowOctober 6 2008, 15:24:33 UTC
In some ways, it was perhaps more painful for the novice witch to have a family so kissingly, maddeningly close to her own, while being different enough to bring into contrast their dissimilarity. The feeling was much like gazing at a 'spot the differences' picture in three dimensions - one a perfect optical replica on the inner surface of her eyelids, the other in the here-and-now. Willow's head ached from her unwitting observation. Still, Xander was Xander, temporal contrast notwithstanding, and as his large frame enveloped her far smaller one, she pawed at him like a wounded animal. He smelled familiar; a musky brown odor that she had known since she was a child. Buffy's addition to the mix only helped the vital feeling of security Willow so desperately craved.
It did not take overly long for Willow to relieve herself of any spare tears, and when, at last, the tide of emotion receded and left her dry, she gazed with a tender mixture of gratitude and sadness at her future copy of a coterie. With a perfunctory sniffle, Willow spread her fingers and gave a small shake of her head. “You never hated me, Spike? That's really nice to hear." She smiled at the cookie-thief with a kind of blurred, tear stained grin.
"I'll go to whomever you think I need to; I just got here and I don't really know the ropes. Though, with the theories on time travel being what they are, the chances of getting me back when I belong are pretty nil. Should you tell me what happens to me, so I at least get the references? Giles is here,too? Are there any big demony types you...we....are fighting nowadays? Where do you all live? How did you all get here?" Willow paused for breath and leaned forward inquisitively "Are there any more of those cookies?”
Xander glanced over at Buffy. How much should they tell her? He didn't know where or with what topic to start with.
God she was so young.
"Actually, were all sorta in retirement, and how that happened is one big long story. For that we'll need a whole lot more cookies, and milk." He snorted, "Any maybe even a beer or two."
"Technically speaking, we're already stopping certain things from happening," Spike brought up. "If she is from another world, then this, er, temporal whozit whatsit is already going all... oh bugger, let her explain it to you." He brought up the last comment with a motion towards Willow after he realized that he'd never be able to completely suss out the explanation she had given him pertaining to the physics behind alternate dimensions.
With a smirk to the little girl lost, Spike replied, "Hard to hate someone with that much power, Red. We creatures of the night, we get that energy resonating in our bones. Good kinda tingle, it is, so you never had much to fear in the way of me actually killing you, except for maybe once or twice."
Walking towards where Buffy had laid the cookies, he grabbed the bag and handed it to the girls. "The way I figure it," he remarked, "I don't know what all Rupes can do except utter a nervous 'oh dear' and consult his books. Leave it to the people with real magic in their hands. The Jolly Green Giant can probably figure out where and when she's from once she sings out a little tune, and Moira can get to work with figuring if it's possible to set her back."
He returned to the desk where he had left his blood and brought the container to his lips. "There's a couple beers in the mini-fridge over there," he told Xander. "On account of the original Scoobies being reunited, I'll let you take one. But I don't have any milk about; that tripe's disgusting." Swallowing a mouthful of blood, he thought about it before realizing, "I just set myself up for a new round of quips, didn't I?"
So many thoughts. Would this be what they called the butterfly effect? What would happen now that Willow was here? What if she couldn’t go back? Looking back at Spike, Buffy couldn’t help but let the corner of her lips twitch up into a small smile at his frustration about time dimensional space hopping or whatever it was called. “You mean Willow knows more about it than we do?” She couldn’t help but give a tiny laugh at that. It would figure Willow would, out of all the people in this room, understand it.
Grabbing at the cookies Spike handed out, Buffy came to sit with a leg tucked under her at Willow’s side, offering the bag to the redhead. Instinctively a hand came out to smooth out the bed hair Willow had still with emerald green eyes darting over to Xander. When their eyes made contact, Buffy smiled warmly. She knew what he was thinking for the simple fact being that she was thinking the same thing. What to tell Willow and how much to tell her. “Giles is across the pond.” The blonde gave that, for now, as the only reply as far as where the Watcher was. “Some of us tried to retire. Which we did for a while. Granted, some of us are still retired.” A tender but knowing look at Xander, “Can I have a beer?” Buffy settled on at least having something other than water to drink in attempt to take away the bottomless pit feeling in her gut. They were going to have to tell Willow some stuff. And if it was mostly about the last big battle, then a beer wasn’t so bad a choice right now. “Basically Sunnydale, as of now, is kind of a giant crater.” Maybe not the best way to start off the story, but perhaps Willow wouldn’t need to know the entire back story?
No. She probably would need to and would want to know.
To Spike, all she did was grin sheepishly and press her lips together for a second, “You really did. The quip won’t come from me, though. I don’t think anything really needs to be said.” A head nod in gesture to what the souled vampire was drinking now. “Let’s settle on this first.” To Willow, the slayer turned now, “Long version or short version of the story? We’ll each fill you in on parts.” No way was she letting either men off the hook with story telling.
Retirement? Willow was confused at that, considering the coterie she'd known would never have laid down the fight. Soon, perhaps, she'd get the full story.
Willow quirked a single red brow at Spike's words, quietly wondering what a bone tingle felt like, but not quite yet having the courage necessary to ask. With all the laden references to her power he'd made, Willow was beginning to understand the respect the cocky fangface seemed to have for her. Frankly, she was uncomfortable enough knowing that untold depths of power apparently swam in her veins, like a shy, studious child who suddenly found herself with an uzi superglued to her palm, Willow desperately wanted to know how it worked without having it blow off her face. With a deep breath and a bagful of cookies in hand, she let her chocolate gaze rest on Spike and inquired; "What does a tingle feel like?"
Perking up at Buffy's mention of time travel, Willow nodded, plainly at her geekyest. "Yes. As I was telling Spike, because of the standard time traveler's paradox, the chances of my being able to return to my own dimension or time without causing a temporal rift, or even worse, causing something akin to the Fermi paradox to actually be broken!" She said this with great vehemence, managing not to crush the precious, utterly delicious treasure in her hands. "Uh...it means I probably won't be able to....to go home."
Thoughtfully, Willow bit into a cookie and relished its sweet darkness. When Buffy plainly and frankly informed the redheaded witch of Sunnydale's ultimate fate, however, Willow gasped sharply. Or, at least, she tried to. Sweet, dark cookie found itself rather surprised to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; it lodged quite firmly in Willow's frail throat, causing her eyes to widen in a vague sort of confusion, edging rapidly into fear.
Jumping in here so Will won't turn blue.can_we_rest_nowOctober 28 2008, 18:45:21 UTC
Spike smirked at Willow's question about a tingle, wondering just how literally he should take her question. Deciding to keep the sexual jokes light at least until Buffy wasn't within kicking distance of him, he remarked, "It's like jogging across a field of land mines. You know if you navigate right and make it through, you'll be proven to have balls of steel. Still, there's no guarantee you'll make it through. Power's dangerous. Danger's intoxicating."
Glancing at Buffy when she asked for a beer, Spike murmured, "Like you need to ask, love." He was about to mention that she wouldn't still be asking when they live together, but a glance at Xander reminded him that she might not have gotten around to revealing certain details about their relationship to One Eyed Joe over there. As much as he'd look forward to shocking and disgusting Harris, Spike remembered that Willow was still getting used to the idea of him not being evil. As such, he managed to rein in his malicious tendencies towards Buffy's right-hand man and quietly went towards the mini-fridge.
He popped open the can for Buffy as Willow prattled on and on about Back to the Future-type science that went far over his head. In the back of his mind, he realized that this was the main reason why it'd never work out between him and Red. He appreciated a woman with smarts, but not so much that he felt he needed a dictionary super glued to his hand just to have a conversation with her. That's what he had liked so much about Drusilla, he supposed. At least when she didn't make sense, it was because she was all-out nuts. And when Buffy didn't make sense... well, that was because she was female. It was a given.
Spike had just handed the beer over to Buffy when he heard what would have been a cough from Willow, had she the air to make such a sound. Glancing over at her, he saw that she hadn't even been able to take the news of Sunnydale's ultimate fate without choking on her snack. "Well," he said as he quickly reached over towards her and clapped her firmly on the back, "this is certainly an excellent precursor of the conversation to come."
Don't turn blue, Willow! Otherwise someone will have to give mouth to mouth! ^_~the_golden_girlOctober 29 2008, 16:06:34 UTC
A tiny lift of shoulders in a simple shrug. “I was being polite and thank you.” Buffy said in all gratefulness. Taking the beer, she tilted her head back ever-so-slightly and took a swig of the delicious alcohol. Maybe she should have asked for something a hell of a lot stronger? It might very well be needed if this conversation was going to go the way she was dreadfully suspecting it was headed.
With knitted brows and only a few sips of beer in her, Buffy was once again, as always when Willow talked all smart on her, confused. “Huh?” Cant of her head, “Farm paradox?” Time travel was another subject this Slayer was never going to grasp. Frankly she didn’t even want to try. Thank whatever Powers That Be that Willow dumbed it up for her. “Oh! Right. I got it now.” She tried to regain any semblance of her intelligence.
Noting the sudden look of fear on Willow’s face, Buffy settled the beer on top of the bedside table and went to help her friend. The thought of Willow freaking out over Sunnydale’s demise making her choke was springing the Slayer into action. Action that was halted by Spike’s inhuman reflexes himself. His hand coming to pat at Willow’s back as Buffy gnawed at her lower lip nervously, “Death by cookie is really not how anyone, especially you Willz, should ever go down.” Her attempt at a joke. All in effort to lighten the mood far off the topic of Sunnydale no longer existing. A quick glance at Spike, who said it all, “I agree.” Back to Willow green eyes settled, “Maybe we should have this conversation another time? One where there’s less a chance you can choke on food.”
Tilting his head as he looked at the pair of girls, he asked, "Willow was a vampire? I must've missed that memo." He leaned back against the wall, suddenly deep in thought. "That must've been quite an adventure...." His voice trailed off as the edges of his lips turned upwards in a faint smile. Evil Willow. It had its appeal. Hell, even Spike had offered to do the honors and sire her once.
The sound of Xander's knock made him sit straight up. "What, me? No." The confused words came out in a rush, as though he was being accused of something. When he realized what Xander had said, he murmured, "Tch. Don't tell me he gets a cookie."
Standing, he put his hands out as though to separate the two groups before anyone jumped to conclusions. "Everyone get their knickers untwisted, all right? No one's saying there's anything wrong with her. Hell, I started out a little backwards when I came into this town, and look at me." As though realizing something, he added, "All right, maybe I'm not a shining example."
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“Vamp!Willow wasn’t an adventure.” She said with sadness, remembering just how it felt when she thought her best friend had died. That she hadn’t been able to save her. It tore Buffy apart to this day just thinking about the maybe’s if that night hadn’t turned out the way it had.
“She’s not our Willow.” The Slayer told Xander in no uncertain terms, “She’s not from this timeline. She’s from freshman year at UCS.” Now her hand rubbed at her jaw it work, trying to rid the tension there from having clenched her jaw so tight.
Tilting her head up so she could glance at Spike, Buffy partially agreed with him. There was more than a chance that there was something wrong with Willow. She time traveled. Something like that took its toll on a person. Spike was case in point. Hell, she had come back wrong herself. “Things like that have a way of coming back to bite you on the ass, proverbial and literal, Spike.” Back to Willow, “We’re here though. No matter what, got it? You’re still Willow. Here or there, you are ours.” She finalized after having considered it. Willow was Willow no matter where she was from. So long as she wasn’t the kind to eat her buds.
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Nine years? Disbelief flooded Willow's eyes, followed closely by a soft, heavy pain. No wonder so much had changed in both of her blond compatriots; Willow felt as if she'd flipped to the end of the Story of Sunnydale, with no context or comprehension of the characters involved. Searchingly, Willow scrutinized her friend's face, noting all the tiny differences between this Buffy, and the one Willow had known.
An odd white noise born of too much emotional upheaval in too short a time filled Willow's inner ear, and she entirely missed the teasing repartee between the other two. Unconsciously, Willow bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood; the mint-metal taste jolting her out of her self-imposed reverie.
A desperate yearning for her own home throbbed through Willow's slender frame, but as she was simply too spent to cry, Willow gnawed at her lower lip until Xander's voice made her glance up hopefully. Struck speechless a second time at the sight of her friend's face, minus an eye, Willow silently mouthed his name. Spike had warned her, but the reality was unimaginably different from her own expectation. He carried himself like a man used to battle scars, as well as their acquisition.
Buffy's firm pronouncement made a fleeting smile cross, ghostlike, across Willow's lips, and she nodded gratefully. After a sibilant intake of breath, the dam broke and she wept pitifully into her fingers. The sound was uniquely quiet; the tiny whispering cries of the lost. "T-thanks." She managed to mumble around her palms.
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It was the one thing he'd never been able to take. "Come here." He said gently and enfolded the weeping Willow into his arms. Much like that time on the bluff.
"Shhh, it's alright, we're here." He looked up at Buffy. He had absolutely no idea what they needed to do. None.
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Spike quirked an eyebrow when Buffy mentioned the fact that time traveling had a way of coming back to haunt a person, particularly intrigued with her wording. "I've been never been literally bit in the ass by this sort of thing, pet, and I won't ask after your personal experiences. Actually, I think I will... just not now."
He watched Willow and Xander's interaction for a moment before taking another contemplative sip of blood. Wonderful, so everyone was being all weepy and love-dovey and emotional. Soul or not, this sort of thing never did sit well with Spike. "Not to rain on your little Kumbaya parade," he mentioned, "but I'd be disappointed in you lot if you didn't accept the witch with open arms. Of course she's the same person; regardless of which dimension she's come from, the very fact that she exists and remembers all of us is proof enough that, up until this point in time, she's still her." Muttering to himself before taking another sip, he quietly added, "Maybe we can even prevent certain things from ever happening to this Willow."
After swallowing his blood, he put the container down and looked at Xander. "I met a witch here, name of Moira. Don't know if you know her, but maybe she'd be able to help make sure that it really isn't amnesia. After that, I don't know what you're planning on doing with her...." Looking to Willow, he smirked, "Truth be told, I wouldn't mind having Red around for company. She's the only one of the Scoobies that I never utterly despised, even back when I was evil." To Buffy, he explained, "I sort of had to hate you on principle, love. No hard feelings?"
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"I'm not sure we're supposed to stop things from happening, Spike." Buffy said as she rose to her feet, snagging a glass of water for the redhead. She knew the room well enough now to know where everything was. "This might be the bit that does stop certain events from happening or it might not." Filling the glass with cold tap water, she closed the distance between her and the bed, handing over the glass for Willow.
"Maybe we should call Giles?" As much as she didn't want to, she knew he'd likely be the best resource they had for help. Other than this times Willow who was somewhere with Kennedy. Where she was very much unreachable.
Raising a brow at Spike's comment, Buffy added a shrug. "That's okay. No hard feelings. I kind of hated you, too." The blonde returned the sentiment with love and a grin.
"Moira. She helped Spike when he first came back. She could be really good help in this case." Buffy mumbled, turning to Willow, "I think she should stay, for now, at least. Not like we know what to do anyway. But I'd peg younger Xander and me, and Giles to be worried about you after a few days. Especially after what happened. Yanno?" It was the gods honest truth. Had their Willow here and now gone missing, she was sure as the sun came up every morning that they'd be frantic for their witch.
"So, we call Moira, then?" This time she looked up at Xander in questioning. If he knew Moira, he'd know her the best and would be able to tell if she could help Willow. "What about Lorne?" It was another thought, "He reads people. He could tell if she's from now or if she isn't."
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It did not take overly long for Willow to relieve herself of any spare tears, and when, at last, the tide of emotion receded and left her dry, she gazed with a tender mixture of gratitude and sadness at her future copy of a coterie. With a perfunctory sniffle, Willow spread her fingers and gave a small shake of her head. “You never hated me, Spike? That's really nice to hear." She smiled at the cookie-thief with a kind of blurred, tear stained grin.
"I'll go to whomever you think I need to; I just got here and I don't really know the ropes. Though, with the theories on time travel being what they are, the chances of getting me back when I belong are pretty nil. Should you tell me what happens to me, so I at least get the references? Giles is here,too? Are there any big demony types you...we....are fighting nowadays? Where do you all live? How did you all get here?" Willow paused for breath and leaned forward inquisitively "Are there any more of those cookies?”
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God she was so young.
"Actually, were all sorta in retirement, and how that happened is one big long story. For that we'll need a whole lot more cookies, and milk." He snorted, "Any maybe even a beer or two."
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With a smirk to the little girl lost, Spike replied, "Hard to hate someone with that much power, Red. We creatures of the night, we get that energy resonating in our bones. Good kinda tingle, it is, so you never had much to fear in the way of me actually killing you, except for maybe once or twice."
Walking towards where Buffy had laid the cookies, he grabbed the bag and handed it to the girls. "The way I figure it," he remarked, "I don't know what all Rupes can do except utter a nervous 'oh dear' and consult his books. Leave it to the people with real magic in their hands. The Jolly Green Giant can probably figure out where and when she's from once she sings out a little tune, and Moira can get to work with figuring if it's possible to set her back."
He returned to the desk where he had left his blood and brought the container to his lips. "There's a couple beers in the mini-fridge over there," he told Xander. "On account of the original Scoobies being reunited, I'll let you take one. But I don't have any milk about; that tripe's disgusting." Swallowing a mouthful of blood, he thought about it before realizing, "I just set myself up for a new round of quips, didn't I?"
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Grabbing at the cookies Spike handed out, Buffy came to sit with a leg tucked under her at Willow’s side, offering the bag to the redhead. Instinctively a hand came out to smooth out the bed hair Willow had still with emerald green eyes darting over to Xander. When their eyes made contact, Buffy smiled warmly. She knew what he was thinking for the simple fact being that she was thinking the same thing. What to tell Willow and how much to tell her. “Giles is across the pond.” The blonde gave that, for now, as the only reply as far as where the Watcher was. “Some of us tried to retire. Which we did for a while. Granted, some of us are still retired.” A tender but knowing look at Xander, “Can I have a beer?” Buffy settled on at least having something other than water to drink in attempt to take away the bottomless pit feeling in her gut. They were going to have to tell Willow some stuff. And if it was mostly about the last big battle, then a beer wasn’t so bad a choice right now. “Basically Sunnydale, as of now, is kind of a giant crater.” Maybe not the best way to start off the story, but perhaps Willow wouldn’t need to know the entire back story?
No. She probably would need to and would want to know.
To Spike, all she did was grin sheepishly and press her lips together for a second, “You really did. The quip won’t come from me, though. I don’t think anything really needs to be said.” A head nod in gesture to what the souled vampire was drinking now. “Let’s settle on this first.” To Willow, the slayer turned now, “Long version or short version of the story? We’ll each fill you in on parts.” No way was she letting either men off the hook with story telling.
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Willow quirked a single red brow at Spike's words, quietly wondering what a bone tingle felt like, but not quite yet having the courage necessary to ask. With all the laden references to her power he'd made, Willow was beginning to understand the respect the cocky fangface seemed to have for her. Frankly, she was uncomfortable enough knowing that untold depths of power apparently swam in her veins, like a shy, studious child who suddenly found herself with an uzi superglued to her palm, Willow desperately wanted to know how it worked without having it blow off her face. With a deep breath and a bagful of cookies in hand, she let her chocolate gaze rest on Spike and inquired; "What does a tingle feel like?"
Perking up at Buffy's mention of time travel, Willow nodded, plainly at her geekyest. "Yes. As I was telling Spike, because of the standard time traveler's paradox, the chances of my being able to return to my own dimension or time without causing a temporal rift, or even worse, causing something akin to the Fermi paradox to actually be broken!" She said this with great vehemence, managing not to crush the precious, utterly delicious treasure in her hands. "Uh...it means I probably won't be able to....to go home."
Thoughtfully, Willow bit into a cookie and relished its sweet darkness. When Buffy plainly and frankly informed the redheaded witch of Sunnydale's ultimate fate, however, Willow gasped sharply. Or, at least, she tried to. Sweet, dark cookie found itself rather surprised to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; it lodged quite firmly in Willow's frail throat, causing her eyes to widen in a vague sort of confusion, edging rapidly into fear.
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Glancing at Buffy when she asked for a beer, Spike murmured, "Like you need to ask, love." He was about to mention that she wouldn't still be asking when they live together, but a glance at Xander reminded him that she might not have gotten around to revealing certain details about their relationship to One Eyed Joe over there. As much as he'd look forward to shocking and disgusting Harris, Spike remembered that Willow was still getting used to the idea of him not being evil. As such, he managed to rein in his malicious tendencies towards Buffy's right-hand man and quietly went towards the mini-fridge.
He popped open the can for Buffy as Willow prattled on and on about Back to the Future-type science that went far over his head. In the back of his mind, he realized that this was the main reason why it'd never work out between him and Red. He appreciated a woman with smarts, but not so much that he felt he needed a dictionary super glued to his hand just to have a conversation with her. That's what he had liked so much about Drusilla, he supposed. At least when she didn't make sense, it was because she was all-out nuts. And when Buffy didn't make sense... well, that was because she was female. It was a given.
Spike had just handed the beer over to Buffy when he heard what would have been a cough from Willow, had she the air to make such a sound. Glancing over at her, he saw that she hadn't even been able to take the news of Sunnydale's ultimate fate without choking on her snack. "Well," he said as he quickly reached over towards her and clapped her firmly on the back, "this is certainly an excellent precursor of the conversation to come."
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With knitted brows and only a few sips of beer in her, Buffy was once again, as always when Willow talked all smart on her, confused. “Huh?” Cant of her head, “Farm paradox?” Time travel was another subject this Slayer was never going to grasp. Frankly she didn’t even want to try. Thank whatever Powers That Be that Willow dumbed it up for her. “Oh! Right. I got it now.” She tried to regain any semblance of her intelligence.
Noting the sudden look of fear on Willow’s face, Buffy settled the beer on top of the bedside table and went to help her friend. The thought of Willow freaking out over Sunnydale’s demise making her choke was springing the Slayer into action. Action that was halted by Spike’s inhuman reflexes himself. His hand coming to pat at Willow’s back as Buffy gnawed at her lower lip nervously, “Death by cookie is really not how anyone, especially you Willz, should ever go down.” Her attempt at a joke. All in effort to lighten the mood far off the topic of Sunnydale no longer existing. A quick glance at Spike, who said it all, “I agree.” Back to Willow green eyes settled, “Maybe we should have this conversation another time? One where there’s less a chance you can choke on food.”
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