We Don't Loose Friends Before We are Finished Making Them
Even I was suprised at myself at how invested I had become in Fred's problem. Because there most definitley was one. A mean, cruel, not all all the girl I met just the other day problem. And I knew that I wasn't being naive to think that the softer Fred - the one with a love of double caffine boosts and Wesley in leather - was the right girl. The one I wanted to help. And yet -
Wesley in leather???
No. Moving on Willow. Moving on.
I really needed to call Buffy about that one though. I could use a good best-friend laugh. I missed that. And hopefully she was with the missing too. I...
Again, with the moving on.
After leaving Anya and Oz I had made my way to my house to pick up a few last spell books that hadn't made the trip yet, nod briefly at my parents, and head back to the dorms. Once there I set myself up for a old fashioned bit of reserach, complete with donoughts.
Which, speaking of - or at least thinking of - Xander called and left on the message on my machine right in the middle of page 87 in 'Simple Witchcraft'. I could have picked up, because really the book was sadly simplistic and easily multi-taskable, but it wasn't so much about the book as about Fred. I had to keep going.
There would be other nights to Bronze.
By the time I fell asleep, face nestled somewhere inside my fifth book, I think I had finally worked out what had happened to Fred. Now I just had to do something about it.
Wesley in leather???
No. Moving on Willow. Moving on.
I really needed to call Buffy about that one though. I could use a good best-friend laugh. I missed that. And hopefully she was with the missing too. I...
Again, with the moving on.
After leaving Anya and Oz I had made my way to my house to pick up a few last spell books that hadn't made the trip yet, nod briefly at my parents, and head back to the dorms. Once there I set myself up for a old fashioned bit of reserach, complete with donoughts.
Which, speaking of - or at least thinking of - Xander called and left on the message on my machine right in the middle of page 87 in 'Simple Witchcraft'. I could have picked up, because really the book was sadly simplistic and easily multi-taskable, but it wasn't so much about the book as about Fred. I had to keep going.
There would be other nights to Bronze.
By the time I fell asleep, face nestled somewhere inside my fifth book, I think I had finally worked out what had happened to Fred. Now I just had to do something about it.