we're a sorry bunch

[slaying]

Who: The Scooby Gang - slaying, univalent, slayersidekick, steadfastest, consultmybooks & likevegeta
What: Meeting & potluck.
When: Late evening.
Where: Spike's apartment, community building two.
Summary: There is nothing so perfectly traditional to the Sunnydale gang as holding important meetings over various kinds of food. I hope someone was on donut duty.
Rating: PGish. Just in case.

Comments

/so very, very late

[univalent]

The tension in the air was so thick, he could smell it. His demon was thrilled by it, taunted him with the temptation to let the corners of his mouth turn upwards in amusement that would no doubt unsettle a good portion of the room. While a smirk could mean a variety of things, to those who still viewed him as the vampire who crashed parent-teacher night it would give them a so-called tell-tale sign of that perception still ringing true. That was far from the truth, of course, but Spike quite honestly did not want to give them the truth. He doesn't owe them for anything, isn't required to step up and say that oh by the way, he has a soul now that can't be jostled loose in any way and kind of, sort of maybe saved the world and died this one time. Justifying himself to others isn't his style. He doesn't care what people think of him, let alone the people in this room...with maybe the exception of Andrew and Willow. Maybe. Depends on his mood and if he's up to listening to Andrew prattle on about more pop culture icons than a VH1

[slaying]

Once the speechifying calmed down and the crew settled into snackage, Buffy made the short jaunt across the room to where Spike stood. She turned away from them and created their own little bubble of conversation. "I think it's going...well." She intoned, flatly. It was clear she was a far cry off from settling on a verdict. "Everyone's keeping things from everyone else and unification is barely brushing seventy percent. Yay for being typically us."

Her body half-twisted, allowing her a glance back over her friends. Feeling detached from them was not a new feeling. It had caused a load of drama in the past, but now? Well, there wasn't much she could do about it. They were disconnected by more than just time. All of the disasters that stood between them.

[univalent]

There was a certain sort of imbalanced placed upon his dwelling of choice here in Luceti with these people in it that disrupted the sort of sanctuary it gave himself and Buffy that was safely tucked away from the prying eyes of those who wouldn't approve, understand or had no business voicing an opinion in regards to what they had been doing since their portion of the draft's enactment. The right way, but...not something to say with the lot gathered here. Not yet, anyway. Especially not with the sorts of looks they were giving him, Xander especially. 'Cause that would go over well.

He was a bit relieved when she sought him out on her own, glad for the opportunity to have a bit of honest conversation that didn't need a front or a filter - he was never very good at those, either. "Better than I'd hoped, though Patches--" Nevermind that Xander is pre- and sans- eye patch. "--looks about ready to melt into the wall."

[slaying]

"They trust me, despite the fact that I'm basically playing the fairy godmother of can't tell you that, yet. So that's kind of amazing."

More than amazing. A miracle. Buffy was no stranger to even the most peripheral of people calling her out on this kind of behaviour. And she wasn't sure how much pushing and tugging it would've taken for her to spill everything. They were them, after all. It felt horrible keeping secrets that were--essentially--theirs to keep in the first place. Like why Xander left Anya at the altar or how heartbreaking it was to hear Willow say Tara's name like she thought she was still alive. These burdens were too heavy--it was bad enough keeping her own secrets.

"And give it time and Xander will...cope. I mean, he did last time--right?"

[univalent]

"If cope's the word you want to use for that." No need to lie. The ability to be as brutally honest as possible, dishing out what they could in turn take was, of course, one of the foundations for...whatever it was they were doing that wasn't to be shared with the people here just yet. The vampire knew that such wouldn't go over well, no matter when those beans were spilled. "We weren't exactly... What was needed to cope with wasn't really the same. There's more here than just oh, by the way, I've got a soul and now fight on your side to this picture, Buffy."

Which was as close as he was going to come to pointing out that which wasn't yet going to be revealed in case someone was listening. ...someone other than Andrew, of course. Little ponce had already figured it out. Called them obvious.

[slaying]

"Cope is all he can do right now." Bold, she leaned in to keep their voices at matched tones. "He doesn't even know Dawn, yet. If he hasn't had to deal with that slice of unbelievable, it's a lot to ask him to deal with another. Remember, this is still the Xander who would probably rather be on the receiving end of a clown-o-gram than marry an ex-demon. The rest of us know that this changes."

Maybe she was going about it the wrong way by keeping most of everything from them. But how could she tell them about the boost to the Slayer line? Or what it was like to seriously consider killing off her best friend because that was the only way she could fathom solving a problem like dark, veintastic Willow. It left her and Spike and Andrew in unique but sympathetic positions. Seven years ago, this was never the force of three she had expected to be on the inside with.

[univalent]

Odd, how much this scene contrasted being on Angel's Team, where everyone had this balance of acknowledging the bad things each of them had done (he'd even heard Gunn and Angel talking about something Fred had done once, when he was still a ghost and could better eavesdrop on conversations he wasn't a part of), but not holding it against who they were in the present. It was a sort of understanding that seemed to be lacking in Sunnydale, where people looked upon himself, Andrew and Faith with a certain disdain based entirely on past grievances that didn't apply anymore. Sure, they'd warmed up to Faith - but only when they saw her as an easier out to Buffy's method of leading. That still pissed him off.

In LA, they got it. Once evil, evil no more. Perhaps it was because the people under Angel had been, well, under Angel, he who wears the crown for being the biggest bad with the darkest track record; Spike coming in short, sitting in second place. He'd been accepted easier, his snark and the mud he slung freely and all, without

[likevegeta]

With his spiel done and nothing more to contribute to the conversations going on, Andrew finally backed away from the group. It wasn't quite as bad as the guestage days - it was bad, but it wasn't to the point where everyone was dishing out a fair chunk of hate for him every chance they got. That was certain to change once he started talking about the First, Jonathan, and Warren - and that wasn't even touching on Skinless Warren or what made him skinless. Not that he wasn't okay with that - lone wolf, proud warrior, a creature who had once lived in the dark needed no nightlight and all that - and he knew that one day they'd be okay with it. His coat of redemption wasn't quite as shiny, and the tweed didn't look nearly as cool as the leather.

So, he chose to retreat to the back with Spike, an onion rose offered up as a peace offering for this invasion of space. "It's, uhm, pretty crazy here isn't it?"

[univalent]

Spike had been eying those onion roses from across the room for some time, but was too focused on keeping his cool, holding his ground and appearing as non-threatening as possible while Buffy got this done so that it wouldn't be interrupted by any meaningless finger pointing and assumption tossing. A simple move for a bit of food that wasn't one of them could easily be interpreted as such and Spike, grudgingly, didn't want to give that sort of impression (even though he wasn't aiming to make any sort of impression at all).

He eyed Andrew when he stepped up next to him, gaze flickering down to the onion rose. There's a bit of gratitude there that goes unspoken as he takes it, displayed by way of not dismissing the man or offering up immediate insult. "Crazy's one word for it. Hell, everyone in this room qualifies for the jacket and chains at one point or another. Some more than others." He means himself, of course.

[likevegeta]

Poor Spike, Andrew couldn't help but think. A redeemed man, treated like the beast he'd long since defeated. It was tragic, really. Something he thought made them kindred spirits, however misguided the thought might be. He settled beside the vampire, leaning his back against the wall in a poor attempt to be cool. He took a sip of the Dr. Pepper, glancing over to watch the others sort out the mess of the timelines.

"No kidding. Are we going to be able to get anything done with everyone all hush-hush like this," he took a sip of the drink, frowning. "It's kind of like on those soap operas - like, uhm... All My Children... Or, uhm, Passions. Where like, three characters know all the spoilers but they can't say, because someone's got a knife - or a stake, or like, magic - and could go all psycho and turn it into a Friday the Thirteenth thing."

I love how we are all drinking doctor pepper

[steadfastest]

Xander raised a hand, overhearing this little conversation. "Can I be considered one of the Not Crazies, here? Also, if we go on special war ops things, can I be Nighthawk again? Also, I'm fine with it being like Passions, as long as there are no living dolls.

...There's no living dolls here, right?" It was hard to gauge his nervousness at this thought. Clowns? Clowns were bad. But anything doll-like also sent him plummeting into the Uncanny Valley at top speed.

it's the best secret meeting drink ever

[likevegeta]

"Well, I don't think any Vampy Cats followed us - oh wait, you mean like, living doll like Timmy." That particular report from Satsu and the others had been met with decidedly mixed reactions. Oh, that was right - he hadn't even started on the 'vamps are out of the coffin' thing. "Probably not, but if there is we could probably take it. Aim for the head? They aren't actually that though unless they're like, Chucky, but even Chucky is a joke at this point compared to anything that was ever in Sunnydale. Plus it's just a doll, stick it in a furnace and it's good and dead. Nobody ever thinks in horror movies. It's always up the stairs and a broken ankle before anyone ever just takes a hammer to it."

I'm a pepper too! NOW I HAVE TO KILL YOU

[steadfastest]

"So you're telling me you could look Timmy in the eye and hammer him to death? That's cold, man." Xander finished the last of his can of soda. Andrew was right; most horror movie type stuff was lame compared to what they went through on a nightly basis in Sunnydale. But now that they were on the subject...

"Okay, a zombie's chasing you, and you have the option of a motorcycle or a pickup for the getaway: which do you go for?"

WHAT HOW DID YOU ARRIVE TO THIS CONCLUSION

[likevegeta]

"But he's a good living doll! He wouldn't come at you with a knife, no way." Not that he was sure what was happening on the show anymore. Between tracking down New Slayers, training his Slayers, and their hideout's poor cable reception, he'd missed at least a year's worth of plot.

"That depends on what kind of shape the truck is in. I mean, motorcycle? Totally cool getaway, but the minute you run out of gas those zombies are going to be all over you. And are we talking fast zombies, like 28 Days Later, or slow zombies? Or, like, Silent Hill zombies because those aren't even technically zombies."

IT'S THE RULES

[steadfastest]

"Dude, they don't NEED to come at you with a knife. Living doll. Automatic evil, right there!

Okay, so the truck is in decent shape. It's got maybe three quarters of a tank, right? The motorcycle's fully gassed up. And we're talking Night of the Living Dead-speed, so not super fast."

WELL SCREW THE RULES I HAVE MONEY

[likevegeta]

"But Timmy was the voice of reason to Tabitha! He wasn't evil at all!

... Okay, well. I'd take the truck. Because as cool as the motorcycle is, it's a lot more dangerous and they're really hard to balance on. At least when you run out of gas in the truck you've got something between you and all the undead. And if I've got some fellow survivors with me then I can take them with me too."