Reporting for Duty

[watcherlad]

Who: Andrew, Giles, Wesley
When: A little before noon, a few days after Andrew has arrived in Hope Falls
Where: Giles' Office at the Manor
Status: Incomplete

Comments

[watcherlad]

Andrew wasn't really ready for a pleasant talk-- because in his mind he had calculated the top ten worst things that could happen ever. He smiled wide, and felt a strong flush come over his cheeks by the time Giles had finished. He'd use the term Watcher to refer to himself. That was good~!

Andrew stepped back, literally stumbling down into his seat. "Well, it's good to be here. Where everyone else is, I mean. Always a party at the Hellmouth!" His grin was only slightly sheepish.

Plus, when you spent a good part of your budding adolescent years and young adulthood living on Hellmouths...they kinda made one feel at home. Kinda.

When Wesley, err, Mister Wyndam-Pryce, entered the room, it instantly sent the butterflies fluttering, and sprang Andrew out of the chair and onto his feet. "Hello, Mister Wyndam-Pryce," Andrew stumbled. Any cockiness the boy had shown when he had last met Wesley wasn't around at the moment. Back then, it had been easy to talk big. Wesley hadn't yet returned from his long sabbatical from Watcher life, then. And Andrew had been acting on orders from Slayer Central, and a duty to fulfill. At the moment he only had himself to represent.

Apologies for the delay!

[wearing_tweed]

Giles regarded Andrew as the once enemy sat there, looking a little nervous. When it came down to it, this young man pulled through during the fall of Sunnydale. "Yes, I'm sure a celebration of some kind would be in place, just not so sure it would be us."

He looked up when Wesley entered and gave him a nod as a greeting to his fellow Watcher and Englishman.

"Wesley, it seems Mr. Wells has come to come under our wings of Watcherhood." He smiled back at Andrew. "We might even assign you to a Slayer and everything." He looked back down at some of the notes. "You've come just in time. We plan to have an assembly of both Watchers and Slayers, and evaluate exactly how to train not only them, but ourselves."

[watcher_pryce]

He couldn't quite hide a grimace when Giles - rather enthusiastically for Giles - told him that not only was Young Master Wells going to become a Watcher... He was also going to be assigned a Slayer. Now Wesley was well aware that there were more Slayers then Watchers... for a change. And what a change that was. But he vividly recalled the mistakes the previous council had made, with Wesley himself as a shining example of failure after failure.

When it came to how he *had* been, Andrew reminded Wesley painfully of his younger self. Far to eager little know it all. At least that's how he remembered Andrew. When it came to things like those, Wesley had the memory of an elephant and he wasn't likely to let anyone forget the way they had treated him lightly. The Watcher could hold a grudge like no other when needed. Luckily in this case, Wesley planned to get a little teasing in, possibly a bit of Andrews own medicine. He didn´t mind the boy that much... as long as he stayed mostly out of his way.

"Is he now?" Wesley remarked, starting off with a neutral tone of voice. "Well he *certainly* knows about the history of the Slayers," he moved on, his tone getting that dry cynical tone. "Don't you young Master Wells?" Pushing his hands in his pockets he turned to give Andrew a piercing look which told the lad Wesley had not forgotten *anything* from their past. "I recall your lecture vividly." Not to mention that he had crushed both Angel and Spike's spirit with the news that they were no longer trusted. "It will be absolutely...smashing."

Moving past Andrew, Wesley patted the boy on his... far to big shoulders (and didn't shoulder pads remind him of someone else too) and sat down on the other chair. "Ah yes, training is very important," Wesley agreed, eying Andrew as he said this, "most of our current Watchers do not have a life-time-- actually that might be in their benefit," he muttered the latter. The Council from the past hadn't been working to well. "I'm certain Young Master Wells will be delighted to help out," Wesley smiled broadly at the boy and then looked at him thoughtfully. "Goodness, where is that ever present pipe I've seen you with last time? Did you give up smoking? Good on you, old chap."

[watcherlad]

At first, Andrew's face was blank. Then, he started to wonder if he was dreaming. He didn't need to look down to see if he was dressed only is his underpants--he could feel the many layers of tweed protecting him. But Giles and Wesley had their clothes on too, so yes, this was reality.

He'd maybe possibly get an official big time kinda assigned Slayer!

It was very hard for him to not squeal like a little girl just then. Instead, he smiled and nodded dumbly. And anyway, it wasn't that big of a deal. Slayers were popping up like tasty hotcakes these days!

But there was that whole life long training thing that Andrew didn't have. That worry sounded strongly in his head as he listened to Wesley. Andrew fidgeted slightly. It was hard to get those looks from Wesley, and even harder when they came with reminders of their first meeting in the flesh. His ears flushed a little at Wesley brought that up. There was something in the man's eyes...

Something that made Andrew look away and fidget more.

Andrew welcomed the question about his lucky pipe, happy to tear his thoughts away from more serious matters.

"Oh, yeah," Andrew nodded, "I thought I could get away with just blowing, and no sucking, but well." He sighed a moment before finding another smile. "I use it for bubbles now!"

Something Giles had said, back before he had practically called himself a gifted Watcher padawan, suddenly came back to his mind. "Not that I don't love me a Slayer pow wow, but...is there a specific reason for it?" There was a strong sense of worry in his question. He'd lived through pow wow a plenty back in the day, in his early transition from master villain, to comrade champion fighter. And they were never because things were going good. Usually it was because someone had just died. Or was going to die. Or was in the process of dying that very moment.

[wearing_tweed]

Giles could see the looks on both Andrew and Wesley's faces at the mention of assigning a Slayer. And the looks couldn't have looked more different; it was nearly amusing. It was a loose term in assigning a Slayer. At least, not until they believed Andrew was ready to take a newer one under his wings.

He ignored the conversation about some pipe that Wesley brought up, rifling through some papers. It was all beginning to come together - the Slayers, the Watchers, and those that didn't fall in either but were just as integral a part in this team as any.

"Hm?" he asked, realizing Andrew had changed the subject. "Oh, nothing serious other than establishing training and routines, really. You came just in time to throw in any advice you might've picked up in your travels." He raised his brows, wondering if Andrw had picked up ANYTHING during his time away from them.

[watcher_pryce]

The look Andrew received from Wesley this time was one of pure horror mixed with utter bemusement. Bubbles? Really? No he couldn't grasp the concept. Bubbles? And this boy was going to train a Slayer for gods sake? Wesley took a moment to despair for the youth of this nation. Bubbles. The look shifted from Andrew to Giles in the hopes that the older Watcher had hopefully heard the bubble remark as well. It seemed clear right away though that he hadn't.

For some reason this annoyed Wesley. He had noticed that Giles was elsewhere with his mind a lot of the time lately. Ever since the bloody incident with the man's maybe girlfriend. At last this Niklas seemed a capable watcher, if she wasn't huddling in a corner talking in strange voices which weren't her own. Then there was Miss Riley who was obviously not fully human. And bubble boy, as Wesley dubbed Andrew, no doubt Cordelia's influence, or possibly Dawn's.

And these were the watchers who were going to oversee the horde of Slayers under their care. Oh yes, things were going *smashing*. Absolutely bloody wonderful.

"Bubbles," Wesley muttered under his breath, giving Andrew a weary look. Just to tease him he was almost tempted to ask about what soap the boy used, but the very thought of the answer alone horrified him. "Strange boy."

Sighing, he sat down in a nearby chair and resisted the urge to get out pen and paper when Giles finally decided to join them and started to explain about this meeting he mentioned. A meeting was highly over due and *would* have taken place some time ago if certain Watchers hadn't decided to have their own demonic freak out.

"Travels? You don't say," Wesley murmured, turning his focus back on Andrew, "Have you been exploring the world of bubbles all over then have you?" he asked, keeping his face as well as the tone of his voice quite serious.

"I'm certain the impressive talent to blow bubbles with a pipe will come quite useful," he said to Giles, not quite using the same seriousness he had taken with Andrew, though the corners of his lips twitched a bit. "Especially when battling the extinct Raplish demon. It's common knowledge that soap means the end of them."