Was it this hard getting my life back together after a few months being dead? Somehow I don't remember it being that bad. Of course, if I'd signed up for a semester of school then, I'd have had the perfect excuse for not showing up. Getting stuck time traveling doesn't exactly rate high on UC Sunnydale's list of acceptable reasons for dropping out
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I start going through the box--there's a few of his personal research books and a couple watchers' diaries, a partial bottle of Scotch. "Kinda surprised you didn't keep that," I murmur to Anya. "Ooh, it might have his fingerprints on it, or saliva, would that work, you think?" It's possible I've been watching too much CSI.
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I take the flyers. "I'll give these to Will and Tara, I'm sure they're thrilled you're open again. I can drop some by the college if you want, next time I'm there." Which reminds me. "Oh, and if you need help during the sale...am I still working for you? 'Cause I kinda missed out on a few months of income, too."
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"Good heavens, don't just leave that lying about where anyone could sit on it! It's a bloody classic!" I snatch the record up and smile, remembering the old days and the experiments we'd tried, rock and roll blaring on the stereo. "This should do quite nicely for an anchor," I say. "There's a lot of memories here." Mine might not be the same as Ripper's, but he'd have them, nonetheless.
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It occurs to me he might need to actually play the thing, and I think hard. "I think Mom's old record player might still be in the basement--I can't guarantee that it'll work, though."
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"Oh, alright, but don't do anything until I get back." I give Anya an apologetic glance, and head to the basement stairs to look for it. Crap, I bet it's piled under loads of boxes and stuff.
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