Newtech City, the FUTURE, Monday
Xander and Bridge had meant to catch the same portal to Fandom's homecoming that Z did, but, er...
Moving on.
There were other ways of catching up with people, anyway, both in and out of Fandom. Say, for instance, by pulling out one's phone while chilling outside SPD headquarters watching the D-Squad cadets do mud-runs.
Technically, Xander was supposed to be power-washing the windows, but he knew from experience that they'd manage to splat mud at least two stories high by the time they were done, so there was no point in cleaning anything until they all trooped back into the building. Hence, the punching of familiar numbers, and the munching of familiar golden spongecake goodness while he waited for an answer.
"Hey, Will. How's it hangin' in--"
"How many times do I have to point out that I don't have anything that hangs, Xander?" He'd be more worried about fitting a foot down his throat alongside that twinkie if she wasn't snickering.
"Well, not at thirty, you don't. Though the way you're built, even when you're sixty--" You know, there was no earthly way this could go anywhere good.
"Xander!"
See? "I just mean you'll probably still look bangin' even as an old lady! What's wrong with that?" Sadly, that's actually what he did mean.
"I'm twenty-nine!"
Whoops. Mmm, toes. "Fine, fine, twenty-nine. I gained six months on you somewhere in the nineteen thirties. Point is, only you, me, Buffy and your driver's license know you're robbing the cradle, and it's not like I can talk."
He was actually risking some anklebone gnawing here, depending on whether the onagainoffagain was offagain or onagain this month, but the distraction was worth it, and last he'd heard, things were On with a capital DEAR GOD, WILLOW, NEVER LET YOUR GIRLFRIEND HAVE ACCESS TO YOUR TWITPIC ACCOUNT AGAIN.
"How is Kennedy, anyway? Did I mention I met a tiny version of her in Fandom this summer?"
"... Who?"
"...Off again again, huh?"
"Sweetie, I have no idea what you're talking about."
Wow, when those two fought, they really fought. Xander just hoped for her sake and possibly that of his imagination shut up that the epic make-up would be worth it.
[ILU SHANIE (AND TBQ) DUN HURT ME. Also open for calls/texts/invitations to Count Duckula's party/people in the FUTURE, as desired.]
Moving on.
There were other ways of catching up with people, anyway, both in and out of Fandom. Say, for instance, by pulling out one's phone while chilling outside SPD headquarters watching the D-Squad cadets do mud-runs.
Technically, Xander was supposed to be power-washing the windows, but he knew from experience that they'd manage to splat mud at least two stories high by the time they were done, so there was no point in cleaning anything until they all trooped back into the building. Hence, the punching of familiar numbers, and the munching of familiar golden spongecake goodness while he waited for an answer.
"Hey, Will. How's it hangin' in--"
"How many times do I have to point out that I don't have anything that hangs, Xander?" He'd be more worried about fitting a foot down his throat alongside that twinkie if she wasn't snickering.
"Well, not at thirty, you don't. Though the way you're built, even when you're sixty--" You know, there was no earthly way this could go anywhere good.
"Xander!"
See? "I just mean you'll probably still look bangin' even as an old lady! What's wrong with that?" Sadly, that's actually what he did mean.
"I'm twenty-nine!"
Whoops. Mmm, toes. "Fine, fine, twenty-nine. I gained six months on you somewhere in the nineteen thirties. Point is, only you, me, Buffy and your driver's license know you're robbing the cradle, and it's not like I can talk."
He was actually risking some anklebone gnawing here, depending on whether the onagainoffagain was offagain or onagain this month, but the distraction was worth it, and last he'd heard, things were On with a capital DEAR GOD, WILLOW, NEVER LET YOUR GIRLFRIEND HAVE ACCESS TO YOUR TWITPIC ACCOUNT AGAIN.
"How is Kennedy, anyway? Did I mention I met a tiny version of her in Fandom this summer?"
"... Who?"
"...Off again again, huh?"
"Sweetie, I have no idea what you're talking about."
Wow, when those two fought, they really fought. Xander just hoped for her sake and possibly that of his imagination shut up that the epic make-up would be worth it.
[ILU SHANIE (AND TBQ) DUN HURT ME. Also open for calls/texts/invitations to Count Duckula's party/people in the FUTURE, as desired.]