Road trip from hell and creepy British guys. . .
So Buffy, Willow, Spike, and I do not exactly make the best traveling companions, at least not cramped into that little teeny car Spike jacked from Angel for nearly ten hours. I tried to keep to myself, listening to Weird Al Yankovic on my headphones and reading my Fantastic Four books, but Willow started to complain that the music was too loud ("'The Saga Begins' is the uber-suck!"), so I turned it down, then off. She was watching the men's swimming Olympic competition on a little portable TV, so I tried to watch along but she got mad (in all fairness, I did try to take it from her at one point -- Ian Thorpe, yummy) and threatened to hex me if I tried to take it again. All the fighting and complaining caused Buffy to yell, "Andrew, if you don't knock it off, I'll show you EXACTLY what a Slayer can do. And not in the happy fun way." I was so afraid she'd start speechifying that I did as I was told. Cuz her speeches? Not fun.
Somehow we made it to Boston, and crashed. Spike and Buffy took one room, and (after some arguing) Willow and I took the other. I did my best not to make her mad; the last thing I need is to wake up with a tail or something. So we slept in for a bit, even though at that point it was almost dawn.
After sleeping for a bit, Buffy, Willow, and I went to our rendezvous with the dead girl's Watcher; we finally tracked him down at Ned Devine's in Fanueil Hall. He is, to put it mildly, insane. He was very paranoid, which is understandable, seeing as how his girl just got butchered. But, hey, we're the good guys. Overreact much? I mean, he wouldn't even tell us his last name. All he would tell us was his name is Simon. Simon is like Mr. Giles, only a million times stuffier, more solemn, and more upright. (Maybe all the time Mr. Giles spent in California took some of the British out of him.) Anyway, Simon agreed to help us in whatever way he could, and briefed us on what was going on. We said we'd be checking things out in town, and promised to be in touch.
We went back to the hotel to regroup, and were relaxing in our rooms when I got a very creepy phone call. I figured it was Ben or Xander calling from Cleveland, so I picked up. It wasn't Ben or Xander, but a very proper-sounding British man. He asked if I was Andrew Wells, and I said I was, and could I help him with something. He said "No, thank you. Good day, sir." And then he hung up.
I was creeped out, so I told Buffy, Spike, and Willow what happened. The first thought that popped into our heads was that it was someone from the Watcher's Council. It wasn't Mr. Giles, and it wasn't Simon. It was obviously someone who knows who I am, so I figure he must know who the others are too. It was really creepy, no matter who it was. We're all a little freaked out by it.
We will see what happens, and be on our guard.
Somehow we made it to Boston, and crashed. Spike and Buffy took one room, and (after some arguing) Willow and I took the other. I did my best not to make her mad; the last thing I need is to wake up with a tail or something. So we slept in for a bit, even though at that point it was almost dawn.
After sleeping for a bit, Buffy, Willow, and I went to our rendezvous with the dead girl's Watcher; we finally tracked him down at Ned Devine's in Fanueil Hall. He is, to put it mildly, insane. He was very paranoid, which is understandable, seeing as how his girl just got butchered. But, hey, we're the good guys. Overreact much? I mean, he wouldn't even tell us his last name. All he would tell us was his name is Simon. Simon is like Mr. Giles, only a million times stuffier, more solemn, and more upright. (Maybe all the time Mr. Giles spent in California took some of the British out of him.) Anyway, Simon agreed to help us in whatever way he could, and briefed us on what was going on. We said we'd be checking things out in town, and promised to be in touch.
We went back to the hotel to regroup, and were relaxing in our rooms when I got a very creepy phone call. I figured it was Ben or Xander calling from Cleveland, so I picked up. It wasn't Ben or Xander, but a very proper-sounding British man. He asked if I was Andrew Wells, and I said I was, and could I help him with something. He said "No, thank you. Good day, sir." And then he hung up.
I was creeped out, so I told Buffy, Spike, and Willow what happened. The first thought that popped into our heads was that it was someone from the Watcher's Council. It wasn't Mr. Giles, and it wasn't Simon. It was obviously someone who knows who I am, so I figure he must know who the others are too. It was really creepy, no matter who it was. We're all a little freaked out by it.
We will see what happens, and be on our guard.