Abandoned WIP Buffy 'verse. 'Big' Spike/Xander, de-aging.
So, this is one of the fics i started literally years ago that I know i'll never finish. So - why not let the poor thing see the light of day?
AND - a note I wanted to add about the Supernatural episode 9/22, where the angel came in and committed suicide 'for Castiel'. The little tag said it was in Dixon, MO - which is about six miles down the highway from where I live. According to the United States Census Bureau, the city has a total area of 1.01 square miles (2.62 km2), all of it land. The population was 1,549 at the 2010 census.
It just...amuses me.
And...Show finale. HOLY. FUCK. I am still reeling a bit. And so blown away by the boy's performances, and Crowley's last little speech, and Gadreel, and...and....
*hands*
DAMN. :)
Right, then - here we go. Not beta'd, of course.
"Oh, man, fucking witches," Xander said, flopping down on one of the worn-out couches on the ground floor of the Bronze. Forgetting for a minute that Willow and Tara were sitting right there, being all...witchy. It was the bought-illegally-for-him-by-Spike Sam Adams. Had to be. He blinked up into two hard, narrow gazes and looked in panicky desperation toward the third pair of eyes. Slightly addled blue - Spike had a bottle and he'd taken a hard hit to the skull earlier. "Uh! I mean - that witch! From before! That power-hungry, obviously insane witch!" Xander cuddled his beer bottle to his chest.
"Harris, you wanker," Spike muttered, taking a huge gulp of whiskey.
"Because normal witches - real witches are good! And - and - nice and love nature and - fluffy - uh - bunnies and - stuff." Xander gulped his own drink, got it down the wrong pipe and choked. Spike pounded him between the shoulder blades.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," Xander said, wincing, and Spike stopped.
"You sure?" Willow asked, and Xander nodded. "Well - okay. Just 'cause you almost choked, we're going to ignore the witch crack and not do anything really horrible and disfiguring to your man parts."
"Because we're n-not the kind of witches who would do that," Tara added. "Normally."
"Right." Willow smiled, her 'aren't you happy?' smile that meant be happy or else. "I think it's time for us to go home. Moving day tomorrow! And you two promised to help, don't forget!"
"Oh, bloody hell," Spike moaned, and Willow's laser-sharp glare sizzled over him, making him flinch. "Yeah, right, moving. Yay."
"It's going to rain tomorrow, so we have to be finished by three," Willow said, with authority, and then deflated just a little under Tara's pointed stare. "And no, I did not do weather magic. That would be crazy, and - and not right and might deprive some poor rutabaga farmer of the rain he needs!"
"Rutabaga farmer?" Xander asked. *What the hell is a rutabaga?*
"Rutabagas are important, too," Tara said, and Xander and Spike exchanged incredulous glances.
"Anyway - we gotta go. Eight o'clock, boys!"
"Yeah, eight o'clock - see you then!" Xander and Spike watched the girls walk out of the Bronze. Xander looked down at his watch. "It's almost eleven. If we go home right now, get cleaned up and eat something... And take out the trash, damnit, it's Tuesday - we can get seven hours sleep. Seven and a half if we cut it close."
"Or we could get shit-faced and bring Krispy Kremes when we show up at four."
Xander looked at Spike - looked at his beer - looked down further at the grass, mud, and ichor stains on his jeans. And the scorched holes in his jacket where the witch had flung some sort of - stuff at them. He'd had to body-check Spike and roll him in wet leaves to put the vampire out. There were still leaves stuck in the buckles of Spike's tanker boots.
"Let's get shit-faced."
"Too bloody right. Gimme twenty, I'll go get another bottle."
As Xander dug into his wallet, he had to admit that not getting his change back was gonna be so worth it.
"Bloody - hell! Harris, no - look -" Spike swayed, squinting, and Xander leaned closer, squinting as well. They were trying to find a specific episode of season one of 'Queer as Folk - UK'. Because Spike said it was better than the American version, and Xander didn't believe him. Not with the hotness of Brian Kinney strutting around.
"We were - we were...episode...five. See? Divorce, Janice...Dazz..."
"No - six. No - wait…." Xander peered at the little insert from the box. "You're h-holding it upside-down, Sssspike!"
"M'not." Spike widened his eyes and then squinted them almost shut again. "Oh, yeah. I am." He let the paper flutter to the floor and flopped backwards. "F-fuck it. Le's watch Law and Order."
"Yeah. Always a Law and Order on...somewhere." Spike grabbed a pillow and shoved it under his head, stretching his legs out on the fold-out couch. Xander did the same, only he was on his belly. Neither one could be bothered to get to the bedroom, and besides - the TV lived out here.
Spike pushed at Xander's feet. "Keep your...smelly dogs outta my face."
"Not smelly. We took'a shower. Shhh! It's Lenny."
As Xander stared, a glassy expression of happiness on his face, Spike lifted the bottle they'd bought on the way home. Almost empty. *Might as well finish it off....* Spike tipped the bottle up and drained it - let it roll out of his fingers and thump softly to the carpet. *Shower, yeah...showered...* Spike grinned to himself, remembering the shower. There'd been a lot of mutual back-scrubbing. Or...well...not necessarily backs. And it took longer for Xander to get off when he was drunk, which was.... *All fucking good.* Spike squirmed a little lower, still feeling that good as a nice little tingling buzz. He put his hand on Xander's thigh.
Xander's head rolled a little sideways and he let out a snore.
*Oh, my head hurts. Oh, ow, ow - sick, feel sick...* Xander rolled carefully over in the bed, his eyes squinted shut. His head hurt - hurt worse than he remembered it ever hurting before. And his stomach was queasy and his mouth tasted...tasted like maybe he'd been sick once already. *Oh, not sick in the bed, gross -*
He pushed weakly at his pillow until he got it to buckle upward and then pushed his head under it and let the cool underside fall down onto his cheek and forehead. "Oooww...."
Thump thump thump. "I know you're in there!"
Xander froze. Thumping - what was the thumping? *Dad was gonna fix the back steps today. I was gonna help him, I was gonna hold the nails and - and he said I could hold the saw and... Did he start without me?*
"Mom?" Xander called, and then clamped his jaw shut as a wave of nausea threatened to bring up whatever was in his stomach. There was a long silence.
Thump thump. "This isn't funny, Xander! Open the door; we know you're in there! It's almost eleven o'clock!"
Xander curled up tighter on the bed, whimpering. His head felt like the time he'd slipped at the pool and cracked his skull into the side - he'd thrown up into a trash can and his mom had had to take him to the hospital. Even though there hadn't been any shots, he didn't want to go to the hospital again. "I'm sick! My h-head hurts!" It was hurting worse every time he talked but he didn't know what else to do. Finally, he opened his eyes - shoved the pillow back.
"Oh - no, oh -" Xander sat up too fast - put his hand over his mouth, swallowing hard. This wasn't his room, this wasn't his room and this wasn't his bed and -
Thump. "Okay! We're coming in! Spare key, so - you better be dressed!"
There was the sound of a key scraping in a lock and Xander looked frantically around. Room with the bed right in the middle and a tv that was on a big shelf and a kitchen that was - really clean and - there. The door. Xander scooted backwards on the bed, hand still over his mouth. The door was opening and this wasn't his room, this wasn't -
"Ahhhh!" The door burst open at the same moment that someone shoved him from behind and Xander screamed. There was someone else in the bed!
"What! What!" A red-haired woman and a blonde-haired woman were standing in the open door looking as scared as Xander felt and he pushed away from the other person in the bed - away from the women and then the bed ran out and he fell right off.
"Ooooow!" Xander screamed and went right on screaming because his head hurt, oh, it hurt so bad and his stomach hurt and the women were talking too loud and that hurt and he didn't care if he was crying. He didn't care if he was a big baby because this wasn't his room and his mom wasn't there. "Mooom! Mooomy!"
"Xander! What's wrong? Xander?" The red-haired woman was standing right over him and her voice was loud and it was too much. Xander leaned forward and threw up.
"I'm s-s-ssiiiick!" he wailed. His puke smelled really gross. It smelled like after Christmas, when sometimes he'd go around and take tastes from what was left in the bottoms of the bottles. It was making him feel like he was going to be sick again. "I - I -"
The blonde woman was suddenly right down next to him, her hand on his forehead. "Do you think you might be sick again?" she asked. Xander hesitated and then nodded finally, because - *Mom, mommy, wanna go home!* she wasn't as loud as the other one and he hated being sick and maybe she could help.
"Okay. Let's just - can you get up? I can't lift you. Let's go in the bathroom, okay?"
"This isn't my hh-house! I don't know where the bathroom is!"
"It's okay, I know."
Xander nodded - scooted back from the puke and pushed himself to his feet. He was dizzy - he felt like he was going to fall down and like he was going to be sick again and he couldn't stop crying. The blonde woman was really...short. "Why are you so small? Why are -"
"Let's go in the bathroom first," she said, and Xander let her take his arm and tug him slowly across the room and down a short hall to a small bathroom. There were purple and red and green towels and a shower curtain with big cartoon fish all over it and Xander smiled for a second before he saw some other person was in the bathroom. He jerked, startled - saw the person move, too and -
"Is that a - a mirror?"
The blonde woman looked nervous. "Yeah, uh - you want a drink of water?"
"Yeah," Xander said. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his wrist. He wasn't wearing any pajamas, just a pair of baggy underwear like Dad wore. And his feet were really big. "Why are -?"
"Here you go!" the blonde woman said, and Xander took the cup from her and took a big gulp of the water inside. The cup had fish on it, too, like the shower curtain. The cold water hit his stomach and sat there like a rock and then it wasn't sitting there and he leaned hastily over the toilet, glad the seat was up already.
Throwing up made his head hurt even more and he coughed and choked and was crying again, spitting and his nose running down into the toilet. The woman pushed a wad of toilet paper into his hand and he wiped his nose and his mouth and dropped it in the bowl. "M-my head hurts," he moaned.
"I know, I'm s-sorry. Let's brush your teeth, okay? And here - blow." The woman held more toilet paper and Xander blew hard - let her wipe him up and flush the toilet and put the seat down, just like Mom always did.
"Where's my mom? This isn't my h-house -"
"Xander! P-please don't c-cry, okay? Just - let's brush your teeth, you'll feel better when you get that t-taste out of your mouth, okay?"
Xander wiped his eyes and looked at the woman. Looked down at her and that made him feel sick again. It made his head swim and his legs shake and he sat down hard, banging his head on the wall and feeling the sobs well up again.
"Why am I so b-b-big? Why am I ss-so big?" The lady just shook her head and Xander closed his eyes and cried harder, and then she hugged him. It was kind of okay after that.
"He's making an awful row in there," William said, watching the red-haired lady mop up the mess on the floor. She wasn't dressed like a maid but she seemed to know what she was doing.
"He's a little - freaked out. We're all a little freaked out. Thank god he's got hardwood," the lady added, and William looked down at the dull, scratched floor.
"I say - you're American, aren't you? Is this - is this America?" The lady paused in her mopping and looked at him.
"Spike, I swear, if this is some kind of - of joke or -!"
"I'm not Spike! I told you, I'm William Huntley!" William felt panic welling up - felt tears stinging his eyes and he clenched his fists tight. *Don't cry don't cry don't cry!* "I live at 17 Gardner Street -"
"I know, I know! You said that. Okay, so - it's not a joke."
"I'm not a joke!"
The red-haired lady sighed - wrung the mop one more time and poked at the floor. "Okay, that's that. Look, do you - I mean, are you gonna be sick?"
William considered. "I don't feel like it. My head's a bit - thick, but... I'm not ill. Is that man ill?"
"He's in big trouble, is what he is," the lady muttered, and carried the mop and pail away to what William thought must be the scullery. Which was right there, and why was there a bed in the scullery? And why - where - The tears finally overflowed and he ducked his head down, trying not to let her see. Staring at the strange black trousers he was wearing that were coming open in the front. There were buttons and he worked furtively at them, trying to do them up.
"Spike! What are you doing!"
"Nothing!" William blurted, flinching hard from the woman's voice and the shock in it. Staring up at her in terror and not caring that she could see his wet face and runny nose. "I don't - I don't know where this is! I want to go home! I demand you t-take me home!"
"Oh god -"
"Hey, hey, it's okay! Everybody just - just calm down!" It was the blonde lady again, leading the man back into the room. His face was flushed but his hair was combed now, and he had a shirt on. William wished he had a shirt, too, and he pulled the tangled sheet up from the mattress and huddled under it.
"Xander ,why don't you just - just lay back down, okay? I'm gonna get you some soda for your stomach, okay?" The man nodded and crawled onto the bed and William scuttled away, pressing himself into the corner. The man looked at him with big, wet eyes and then curled up on his side of the bed, looking miserable and shivering.
"My head huurts...."
"I know, Xander. It's okay - I'll get you some aspirin." The blonde lady and the red-haired one went into the scullery and started banging around, whispering fiercely, and William finally leaned toward the man a little.
"Have we been - are we Shanghaied? Is this - are we on a ship?"
"What? What's - shanged?" The man lifted his head a little, pushing back a lock of dark hair. "I don't live here, this isn't my house."
"It's not my house, either," William said, and the man blinked.
"It's not? I thought... Why are you in the bed?"
"I woke up in it, like you did I suppose. Were you - very ill?" William asked, and the man sniffed a little.
"Yeah. My head really hurts. Like when I fell at the pool and hit it and I had to go to the hospital. They took'a x-ray and said I was lucky I had such a hard head!" The other man looked a little happier now and William felt a small knot of tension unkink down in his belly.
"What is an - an x...ray?" William asked, and the man goggled at him.
"It's where they take a picture of your bones! To see if you broke any. I didn't break any but then I fell off my bike right before Christmas and broke my wrist and had to have a cast and Santa Claus signed it." The man bit his lip and looked over at the ladies, who were still arguing. One was pouring something into a glass. "Are you - do you know them?"
"Oh, no," William said. "I woke up and they were there and you were - um - ill and... She thought my name was Spike!"
"Spike's a dog's name," the man said, and William lifted his chin.
"Yes, I told her she was mistaken. I'm William Huntley." He untangled his hand from the sheet and held it out and after a moment the other man gingerly shook it.
"I'm Xander Harris. You talk funny."
"You're the one that talks peculiarly! You're American too, aren't you?"
"Yeah - of course I'm American! I live in America!"
William stared a Xander - stared and felt his chin wobble and his lip and then felt his eyes spill over. Hot, prickling tears that made him so ashamed he wanted to die. The blonde lady was walking toward them and he couldn't stand it one more minute. He lay his head down in his knees and sobbed. "I want to go home! I w-want to goooo hh-hooome!"
"Oh my god, we need Giles."
William, Xander thought, was weird. He got mad when Willow said he was crying and wouldn't talk to any of them for a little bit. But Tara got William a soda, too, which Xander thought wasn't fair because William wasn't sick. William acted like he'd never had a soda before and he drank some and sneezed and spilled a little and almost cried again.
And Xander almost said something but then he remembered that he'd cried and threw up, so he just sat up and drank a little more of his own soda. He couldn't take the aspirin, though, until Tara put it in some pudding and he just swallowed the whole thing down. He was too little for pills, his mom always said.
Except he wasn't little and William wasn't and - and it was scary. Willow and Tara had got on the phone and called 'Jiles' and had done the whisper-fight thing that grown-ups did sometimes. Xander had got up and went back to the bathroom and used the toilet - carefully, because he was a long way up from the bowl now - and then spent a couple minutes staring in the mirror. The face staring back had bristles like Dad on Sunday and kinda long hair that was floppy. Dad would say he looked like a sheep-dog and Xander sniffled and wiped his nose with some toilet paper and went back out to the living room because he didn't want to think about it.
Didn't want to think about his Dad trying to find him to fix the steps and he wasn't there.
William was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching TV when he came back out. He'd put on his shirt and some socks but no shoes and he looked like he felt cold, sitting all hunched over with his hands tucked down between his legs. Xander sat down next to him.
"What're you watching?"
"I - I don't know. Miss Willow - did it. She said it was - a c-cartoon?"
"Yeah?" The commercial - for a game Xander had never heard of - ended and then the cartoon came on. "Scooby-Doo!" Xander crowed, and William looked at him.
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's Scooby-Doo, dummy! Don't you like Scooby-Doo?"
"I've never - I haven't seen it. We don't have…Scooby-Doo in London."
"Wow. That sucks," Xander said. "It's really cool. There's this dog, Scooby-Doo.... See? Right there. And his friend Shaggy. And then him and Shaggy and Velma and Daphne and Fred all go around solving mysteries and stuff." Xander bounced a little. This one was a new one - he hadn't seen it before.
"What sort of mysteries?" William asked. He was leaning forward a little, frowning.
"Like - like there's a ghost haunting a house and everybody runs away but the Scoobies come in and find out the ghost is really just some guy dressed up 'cause there's buried treasure or something in the house and he wants it all for himself."
"Oh." William's eyes were wide, fixed on the TV and Xander stopped talking and sat criss-cross on the bed, watching too. Willow and Tara were sitting in the kitchen and after a minute Willow kind of moved around.
"Are you guys hungry? Xander, do you think you could eat without getting sick?"
"Yeah, I'm hungry. Is there Cocoa-Puffs? I like Cocoa-Puffs or Honeycomb or Sugar Smacks best."
"Yeah, I remember," Willow said, and Xander gave her a look.
"How do you remember?"
"Oh! Uh - well, I uh -" She looked really nervous and Tara was touching her arm, kind of petting it.
"You know, it's really weird that your name is Willow too, just like my friend at school. It's a weird name. And she has red hair, too, only hers is longer and she wears sailor dresses instead of that hippy stuff."
"It's not hippy stuff!" Willow yelped.
"My mom says hippies wore long skirts and stuff like that, all colors and stuff." Xander watched Willow smooth her hands down over her long, bright skirt. "I like the purple parts best," he added, because this Willow seemed kind of upset. Like his own Willow got when Cordelia-stinky-Chase-face said mean things about her dresses.
"I like the purple part, too," Willow said finally, and then Tara got up and opened the 'fridge so Xander bounced again, because it looked like they were gonna have breakfast. Now that his head didn't hurt so much and he'd puked, his stomach was kind of rumbley. William looked rumbley, too.
"Hey, William, you like Sugar Smacks for breakfast?"
William thought about it for a minute. "I don't know. I usually have eggs and toast and porridge for breakfast. What are Sugar Smacks?"
Xander laughed, falling back on the bed and making William lurch a little. "What are Sugar Smacks? They're cereal! Everybody has cereal for breakfast!"
"I don't," William said, and Xander laughed some more.
"You're weird."
"No I'm not!" William looked hurt and maybe a little angry and then Willow came over and turned off the TV.
"C'mon you guys, lets eat, okay?"
"Cereal!" Xander shouted, and jumped up and ran for the kitchen.
Mr. Giles was English, which made William feel almost sick with relief. Unfortunately, he seemed as upset and confused as Miss Tara and Miss Willow and after a bit William went back to drawing on the paper Miss Tara had found for him. It had faint blue lines on it and was very thin, and came in pages in a strange sort of notebook with a wire hinge. Xander was still watching cartoons, with a big bowl of popcorn. William had his own, smaller bowl. It was very salty.
"Yes, well, you know my objections, but I agree that this is the best option we have." Mr. Giles was standing over near the sink, looking unhappy - cleaning his spectacles with a handkerchief, much like William's father. William felt a pang of unhappiness at that - his father had been gone for nearly a year, and William missed him.
He looked away as Mr. Giles looked toward him - pretended to be concentrating on his 'journal' as Mr. Giles and the ladies walked over. Miss Willow turned off the cartoons, shushing Xander's immediate objections.
"William, would you please come sit here? Xander - right next to him." The bed in the middle of the room had folded up into a dull-red chesterfield with velveteen upholstery that William knew his mother wouldn't have liked. It had a worn patch on one arm. William got up and sat on the couch, still unsettled by the fact that he was taller than the ladies. But not taller than Xander or Mr. Giles, which felt...better.
"Now - William, Xander. I'm going to tell you exactly what happened to you. It's going to sound - well, fairly unbelievable, but I promise you both - I'm telling the truth." Mr. Giles put his spectacles back on and settled into the wooden chair Miss Willow had brought from the scullery.
"Boys - magic is real." Mr Giles looked solemnly at them and Xander laughed and so did William but then they both sobered as Mr. Giles continued to look at them. "I know it seems - well, insane, but Willow is going to show you some magic, to prove it to you."
"Is she a witch? Witches do magic - real witches." Xander looked expectantly at Miss Willow and she made a funny kind of face.
"Well, yes. I am a witch. But I'm a good witch, not a bad witch. I'm like - like Glinda in the Wizard of Oz!"
William had no idea what she was talking about and in fact was feeling a little panicked. Witches were bad - the vicar said so. He shouldn't even be talking to Miss Willow if she was a witch. His mother would be so, so disappointed in him.
"William? William, it's all right." It was Mr. Giles, leaning forward, his big, warm hand resting on William's shoulder. "I know that this talk of witches is - unsettling, but -"
"Mother wouldn't like it at all. Or the vicar, he - he said all witches were minions of Satan."
"Satan! Is he the one with the horns?" Xander whispered, leaning in.
"Yes, he is. Lucifer," William whispered back.
"Ooh." Xander looked up at Miss Willow, eyes wide.
"I'm not a minion of Satan!" Miss Willow exclaimed, and William frowned at her.
"The vicar said you would say that."
"Oh, for - Giles, tell him!"
"Willow -" Giles made a 'be calm' sort of motion with his hand and Miss Willow crossed her arms over her chest, looking a bit angry. Miss Tara touched her arm, petting it again, and William wondered if they were sisters or cousins. They seemed very close. "What Willow says is true, William - she is a good witch. There are some very bad witches and she - she helps me to stop them from doing bad things. Willow -" Giles nodded and Miss Willow nodded back.
"Okay. Now - don't be scared. I promise nothing I do can hurt you, okay? Just - watch." Miss Willow closed her eyes, Miss Tara's hand clasped in hers. She whispered something - Latin, William thought, but he didn't catch it all. Then she held her hand out, palm up. A paleness glowed there - grew - until a light danced over Miss Willow's palm, golden and glowing and sending off little sparks like a collapsing log in a fireplace.
"Oh, wow - look! Will, look!"
"What is it?" William breathed, secretly pleased at the Will. He'd never been called that before by a boy - it had a friendly sound.
"It's a Tinkerbell light," Miss Tara said, and Xander put his hand out.
"Can I touch her? I mean - it? It's not - is it really Tinkerbell?"
"No, it's just a light named after her. It helps us at night to - um - to see where we're walking and stuff," Miss Willow said.
"Who is Tinkerbell?" William asked, staring entranced at the glowing, gently coruscating light.
"She's a fairy," Xander said. "From Peter Pan - don't you remember?"
"I - I suppose not," William said, distracted. He watched Miss Willow lift her palm to her lips and blow gently, and the - Tinkerbell light danced away from her - spun and flitted until it was hovering right in front of him and Xander.
"Can I touch it? Will it let me touch it?" Xander asked, and Miss Willow nodded.
"You can touch it. It doesn't feel like much of anything."
Xander lifted his hand and the light danced through his fingers, and Xander giggled. "Touch it! Will, c'mon, touch it, it tickles!"
William looked up at Mr. Giles who smiled at him - nodded encouragingly. He lifted his hand and held it out - rather like feeding a sugar lump to Uncle Bayard's gelding. The light twirled through his fingers, cool and then hot and prickly. Ticklish, like Xander had said and William smiled. "Oh! I say, that's - that's actually quite brilliant!"
"Finis," Miss Willow said, and the light whirled apart and disappeared. Xander made a disappointed noise. "Okay, so - there, magic's real, and I'm a witch, but a good one, and - and Mr. Giles is going to tell you the rest." She squeezed Miss Tara's hand in hers and William wondered just how the vicar had got it wrong.
"Yes, of course." Mr. Giles didn't look pleased at being the one to tell and William felt his shoulders hunching down. He straightened them, lifting his chin.
"It's all right, Mr. Giles - we'll believe you."
"Yes, well...uh...thank you, William. Now..." Mr. Giles hitched his chair forward a few inches. "It seems, boys, that a witch has put a spell on the both of you. A spell to make you...forget some things."
"What kind of things?"
"Why would a witch want to do that?" Xander spoke at the same time as William and they both looked over at each other, smiling.
"We're not sure why - I suppose we'll find out when we find the witch. As to what you've forgotten...." Mr. Giles glanced up at the women - cleared his throat. "You've forgotten that you're adults."
"I think Mr. Giles is wrong," Xander said. He poked at the macaroni and cheese Tara had fixed, swirling the stripes of ketchup into it. "I think the witch swapped our brains or something. Put us in these bodies."
"Yes, but...." William took a bite of his macaroni and made a little face. "But they knew our names. They were expecting us to be here and...and the clothing that we found fits...." William plucked at the tight black t-shirt Willow had handed him, looking unhappy.
Xander sighed. "Yeah, but...there's no way we're grown ups! I mean...it was my birthday last week! I'm nine. I remember. I was supposed to help my dad today. We were gonna fix the back step that got broke. He said I could hold the saw." Suddenly, the macaroni didn't taste very good, and Xander pushed his plate away. "He's gonna be really mad when he can't find me."
"My father's been away in India." William took a drink of his milk. "He's in the Army - he's an officer."
"Is there a war?"
"Oh, no - India is at peace, now, but you can't be too careful, that's what the vicar says." William pushed his own plate away, as well. "I wish the vicar wouldn't talk quite so much. He's always coming 'round and taking up all of Mother's time and making me study my Ulysses."
"What's that?"
"It's a dreadfully boring story. He says I should be able to recite it."
"Oh, homework. I don't have any homework 'cause it's summertime." Xander looked over at Willow, who was sitting curled up on the couch, surrounded by books and papers. Tara was beside her, writing something. Xander leaned closer to William and whispered. "I bet if we say we have to go to the bathroom, we can climb out the window."
William's eyes got very round, and he looked over at the women, too, hunching closer. "But what if we're up high? How will we get down?"
"I dunno." Xander chewed his bottom lip for a moment. "Let's go see. If it's too high we'll just...maybe we can make a rope out of towels or something."
William looked at the women - back at Xander - and then he nodded, his mouth curling a little in a tiny smile. "All right, then - let's go!"
Yup, that's all. :)
Originally entered at http://tabaqui.dreamwidth.org/177070.html - comment where you please!
AND - a note I wanted to add about the Supernatural episode 9/22, where the angel came in and committed suicide 'for Castiel'. The little tag said it was in Dixon, MO - which is about six miles down the highway from where I live. According to the United States Census Bureau, the city has a total area of 1.01 square miles (2.62 km2), all of it land. The population was 1,549 at the 2010 census.
It just...amuses me.
And...Show finale. HOLY. FUCK. I am still reeling a bit. And so blown away by the boy's performances, and Crowley's last little speech, and Gadreel, and...and....
*hands*
DAMN. :)
Right, then - here we go. Not beta'd, of course.
"Oh, man, fucking witches," Xander said, flopping down on one of the worn-out couches on the ground floor of the Bronze. Forgetting for a minute that Willow and Tara were sitting right there, being all...witchy. It was the bought-illegally-for-him-by-Spike Sam Adams. Had to be. He blinked up into two hard, narrow gazes and looked in panicky desperation toward the third pair of eyes. Slightly addled blue - Spike had a bottle and he'd taken a hard hit to the skull earlier. "Uh! I mean - that witch! From before! That power-hungry, obviously insane witch!" Xander cuddled his beer bottle to his chest.
"Harris, you wanker," Spike muttered, taking a huge gulp of whiskey.
"Because normal witches - real witches are good! And - and - nice and love nature and - fluffy - uh - bunnies and - stuff." Xander gulped his own drink, got it down the wrong pipe and choked. Spike pounded him between the shoulder blades.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," Xander said, wincing, and Spike stopped.
"You sure?" Willow asked, and Xander nodded. "Well - okay. Just 'cause you almost choked, we're going to ignore the witch crack and not do anything really horrible and disfiguring to your man parts."
"Because we're n-not the kind of witches who would do that," Tara added. "Normally."
"Right." Willow smiled, her 'aren't you happy?' smile that meant be happy or else. "I think it's time for us to go home. Moving day tomorrow! And you two promised to help, don't forget!"
"Oh, bloody hell," Spike moaned, and Willow's laser-sharp glare sizzled over him, making him flinch. "Yeah, right, moving. Yay."
"It's going to rain tomorrow, so we have to be finished by three," Willow said, with authority, and then deflated just a little under Tara's pointed stare. "And no, I did not do weather magic. That would be crazy, and - and not right and might deprive some poor rutabaga farmer of the rain he needs!"
"Rutabaga farmer?" Xander asked. *What the hell is a rutabaga?*
"Rutabagas are important, too," Tara said, and Xander and Spike exchanged incredulous glances.
"Anyway - we gotta go. Eight o'clock, boys!"
"Yeah, eight o'clock - see you then!" Xander and Spike watched the girls walk out of the Bronze. Xander looked down at his watch. "It's almost eleven. If we go home right now, get cleaned up and eat something... And take out the trash, damnit, it's Tuesday - we can get seven hours sleep. Seven and a half if we cut it close."
"Or we could get shit-faced and bring Krispy Kremes when we show up at four."
Xander looked at Spike - looked at his beer - looked down further at the grass, mud, and ichor stains on his jeans. And the scorched holes in his jacket where the witch had flung some sort of - stuff at them. He'd had to body-check Spike and roll him in wet leaves to put the vampire out. There were still leaves stuck in the buckles of Spike's tanker boots.
"Let's get shit-faced."
"Too bloody right. Gimme twenty, I'll go get another bottle."
As Xander dug into his wallet, he had to admit that not getting his change back was gonna be so worth it.
"Bloody - hell! Harris, no - look -" Spike swayed, squinting, and Xander leaned closer, squinting as well. They were trying to find a specific episode of season one of 'Queer as Folk - UK'. Because Spike said it was better than the American version, and Xander didn't believe him. Not with the hotness of Brian Kinney strutting around.
"We were - we were...episode...five. See? Divorce, Janice...Dazz..."
"No - six. No - wait…." Xander peered at the little insert from the box. "You're h-holding it upside-down, Sssspike!"
"M'not." Spike widened his eyes and then squinted them almost shut again. "Oh, yeah. I am." He let the paper flutter to the floor and flopped backwards. "F-fuck it. Le's watch Law and Order."
"Yeah. Always a Law and Order on...somewhere." Spike grabbed a pillow and shoved it under his head, stretching his legs out on the fold-out couch. Xander did the same, only he was on his belly. Neither one could be bothered to get to the bedroom, and besides - the TV lived out here.
Spike pushed at Xander's feet. "Keep your...smelly dogs outta my face."
"Not smelly. We took'a shower. Shhh! It's Lenny."
As Xander stared, a glassy expression of happiness on his face, Spike lifted the bottle they'd bought on the way home. Almost empty. *Might as well finish it off....* Spike tipped the bottle up and drained it - let it roll out of his fingers and thump softly to the carpet. *Shower, yeah...showered...* Spike grinned to himself, remembering the shower. There'd been a lot of mutual back-scrubbing. Or...well...not necessarily backs. And it took longer for Xander to get off when he was drunk, which was.... *All fucking good.* Spike squirmed a little lower, still feeling that good as a nice little tingling buzz. He put his hand on Xander's thigh.
Xander's head rolled a little sideways and he let out a snore.
*Oh, my head hurts. Oh, ow, ow - sick, feel sick...* Xander rolled carefully over in the bed, his eyes squinted shut. His head hurt - hurt worse than he remembered it ever hurting before. And his stomach was queasy and his mouth tasted...tasted like maybe he'd been sick once already. *Oh, not sick in the bed, gross -*
He pushed weakly at his pillow until he got it to buckle upward and then pushed his head under it and let the cool underside fall down onto his cheek and forehead. "Oooww...."
Thump thump thump. "I know you're in there!"
Xander froze. Thumping - what was the thumping? *Dad was gonna fix the back steps today. I was gonna help him, I was gonna hold the nails and - and he said I could hold the saw and... Did he start without me?*
"Mom?" Xander called, and then clamped his jaw shut as a wave of nausea threatened to bring up whatever was in his stomach. There was a long silence.
Thump thump. "This isn't funny, Xander! Open the door; we know you're in there! It's almost eleven o'clock!"
Xander curled up tighter on the bed, whimpering. His head felt like the time he'd slipped at the pool and cracked his skull into the side - he'd thrown up into a trash can and his mom had had to take him to the hospital. Even though there hadn't been any shots, he didn't want to go to the hospital again. "I'm sick! My h-head hurts!" It was hurting worse every time he talked but he didn't know what else to do. Finally, he opened his eyes - shoved the pillow back.
"Oh - no, oh -" Xander sat up too fast - put his hand over his mouth, swallowing hard. This wasn't his room, this wasn't his room and this wasn't his bed and -
Thump. "Okay! We're coming in! Spare key, so - you better be dressed!"
There was the sound of a key scraping in a lock and Xander looked frantically around. Room with the bed right in the middle and a tv that was on a big shelf and a kitchen that was - really clean and - there. The door. Xander scooted backwards on the bed, hand still over his mouth. The door was opening and this wasn't his room, this wasn't -
"Ahhhh!" The door burst open at the same moment that someone shoved him from behind and Xander screamed. There was someone else in the bed!
"What! What!" A red-haired woman and a blonde-haired woman were standing in the open door looking as scared as Xander felt and he pushed away from the other person in the bed - away from the women and then the bed ran out and he fell right off.
"Ooooow!" Xander screamed and went right on screaming because his head hurt, oh, it hurt so bad and his stomach hurt and the women were talking too loud and that hurt and he didn't care if he was crying. He didn't care if he was a big baby because this wasn't his room and his mom wasn't there. "Mooom! Mooomy!"
"Xander! What's wrong? Xander?" The red-haired woman was standing right over him and her voice was loud and it was too much. Xander leaned forward and threw up.
"I'm s-s-ssiiiick!" he wailed. His puke smelled really gross. It smelled like after Christmas, when sometimes he'd go around and take tastes from what was left in the bottoms of the bottles. It was making him feel like he was going to be sick again. "I - I -"
The blonde woman was suddenly right down next to him, her hand on his forehead. "Do you think you might be sick again?" she asked. Xander hesitated and then nodded finally, because - *Mom, mommy, wanna go home!* she wasn't as loud as the other one and he hated being sick and maybe she could help.
"Okay. Let's just - can you get up? I can't lift you. Let's go in the bathroom, okay?"
"This isn't my hh-house! I don't know where the bathroom is!"
"It's okay, I know."
Xander nodded - scooted back from the puke and pushed himself to his feet. He was dizzy - he felt like he was going to fall down and like he was going to be sick again and he couldn't stop crying. The blonde woman was really...short. "Why are you so small? Why are -"
"Let's go in the bathroom first," she said, and Xander let her take his arm and tug him slowly across the room and down a short hall to a small bathroom. There were purple and red and green towels and a shower curtain with big cartoon fish all over it and Xander smiled for a second before he saw some other person was in the bathroom. He jerked, startled - saw the person move, too and -
"Is that a - a mirror?"
The blonde woman looked nervous. "Yeah, uh - you want a drink of water?"
"Yeah," Xander said. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his wrist. He wasn't wearing any pajamas, just a pair of baggy underwear like Dad wore. And his feet were really big. "Why are -?"
"Here you go!" the blonde woman said, and Xander took the cup from her and took a big gulp of the water inside. The cup had fish on it, too, like the shower curtain. The cold water hit his stomach and sat there like a rock and then it wasn't sitting there and he leaned hastily over the toilet, glad the seat was up already.
Throwing up made his head hurt even more and he coughed and choked and was crying again, spitting and his nose running down into the toilet. The woman pushed a wad of toilet paper into his hand and he wiped his nose and his mouth and dropped it in the bowl. "M-my head hurts," he moaned.
"I know, I'm s-sorry. Let's brush your teeth, okay? And here - blow." The woman held more toilet paper and Xander blew hard - let her wipe him up and flush the toilet and put the seat down, just like Mom always did.
"Where's my mom? This isn't my h-house -"
"Xander! P-please don't c-cry, okay? Just - let's brush your teeth, you'll feel better when you get that t-taste out of your mouth, okay?"
Xander wiped his eyes and looked at the woman. Looked down at her and that made him feel sick again. It made his head swim and his legs shake and he sat down hard, banging his head on the wall and feeling the sobs well up again.
"Why am I so b-b-big? Why am I ss-so big?" The lady just shook her head and Xander closed his eyes and cried harder, and then she hugged him. It was kind of okay after that.
"He's making an awful row in there," William said, watching the red-haired lady mop up the mess on the floor. She wasn't dressed like a maid but she seemed to know what she was doing.
"He's a little - freaked out. We're all a little freaked out. Thank god he's got hardwood," the lady added, and William looked down at the dull, scratched floor.
"I say - you're American, aren't you? Is this - is this America?" The lady paused in her mopping and looked at him.
"Spike, I swear, if this is some kind of - of joke or -!"
"I'm not Spike! I told you, I'm William Huntley!" William felt panic welling up - felt tears stinging his eyes and he clenched his fists tight. *Don't cry don't cry don't cry!* "I live at 17 Gardner Street -"
"I know, I know! You said that. Okay, so - it's not a joke."
"I'm not a joke!"
The red-haired lady sighed - wrung the mop one more time and poked at the floor. "Okay, that's that. Look, do you - I mean, are you gonna be sick?"
William considered. "I don't feel like it. My head's a bit - thick, but... I'm not ill. Is that man ill?"
"He's in big trouble, is what he is," the lady muttered, and carried the mop and pail away to what William thought must be the scullery. Which was right there, and why was there a bed in the scullery? And why - where - The tears finally overflowed and he ducked his head down, trying not to let her see. Staring at the strange black trousers he was wearing that were coming open in the front. There were buttons and he worked furtively at them, trying to do them up.
"Spike! What are you doing!"
"Nothing!" William blurted, flinching hard from the woman's voice and the shock in it. Staring up at her in terror and not caring that she could see his wet face and runny nose. "I don't - I don't know where this is! I want to go home! I demand you t-take me home!"
"Oh god -"
"Hey, hey, it's okay! Everybody just - just calm down!" It was the blonde lady again, leading the man back into the room. His face was flushed but his hair was combed now, and he had a shirt on. William wished he had a shirt, too, and he pulled the tangled sheet up from the mattress and huddled under it.
"Xander ,why don't you just - just lay back down, okay? I'm gonna get you some soda for your stomach, okay?" The man nodded and crawled onto the bed and William scuttled away, pressing himself into the corner. The man looked at him with big, wet eyes and then curled up on his side of the bed, looking miserable and shivering.
"My head huurts...."
"I know, Xander. It's okay - I'll get you some aspirin." The blonde lady and the red-haired one went into the scullery and started banging around, whispering fiercely, and William finally leaned toward the man a little.
"Have we been - are we Shanghaied? Is this - are we on a ship?"
"What? What's - shanged?" The man lifted his head a little, pushing back a lock of dark hair. "I don't live here, this isn't my house."
"It's not my house, either," William said, and the man blinked.
"It's not? I thought... Why are you in the bed?"
"I woke up in it, like you did I suppose. Were you - very ill?" William asked, and the man sniffed a little.
"Yeah. My head really hurts. Like when I fell at the pool and hit it and I had to go to the hospital. They took'a x-ray and said I was lucky I had such a hard head!" The other man looked a little happier now and William felt a small knot of tension unkink down in his belly.
"What is an - an x...ray?" William asked, and the man goggled at him.
"It's where they take a picture of your bones! To see if you broke any. I didn't break any but then I fell off my bike right before Christmas and broke my wrist and had to have a cast and Santa Claus signed it." The man bit his lip and looked over at the ladies, who were still arguing. One was pouring something into a glass. "Are you - do you know them?"
"Oh, no," William said. "I woke up and they were there and you were - um - ill and... She thought my name was Spike!"
"Spike's a dog's name," the man said, and William lifted his chin.
"Yes, I told her she was mistaken. I'm William Huntley." He untangled his hand from the sheet and held it out and after a moment the other man gingerly shook it.
"I'm Xander Harris. You talk funny."
"You're the one that talks peculiarly! You're American too, aren't you?"
"Yeah - of course I'm American! I live in America!"
William stared a Xander - stared and felt his chin wobble and his lip and then felt his eyes spill over. Hot, prickling tears that made him so ashamed he wanted to die. The blonde lady was walking toward them and he couldn't stand it one more minute. He lay his head down in his knees and sobbed. "I want to go home! I w-want to goooo hh-hooome!"
"Oh my god, we need Giles."
William, Xander thought, was weird. He got mad when Willow said he was crying and wouldn't talk to any of them for a little bit. But Tara got William a soda, too, which Xander thought wasn't fair because William wasn't sick. William acted like he'd never had a soda before and he drank some and sneezed and spilled a little and almost cried again.
And Xander almost said something but then he remembered that he'd cried and threw up, so he just sat up and drank a little more of his own soda. He couldn't take the aspirin, though, until Tara put it in some pudding and he just swallowed the whole thing down. He was too little for pills, his mom always said.
Except he wasn't little and William wasn't and - and it was scary. Willow and Tara had got on the phone and called 'Jiles' and had done the whisper-fight thing that grown-ups did sometimes. Xander had got up and went back to the bathroom and used the toilet - carefully, because he was a long way up from the bowl now - and then spent a couple minutes staring in the mirror. The face staring back had bristles like Dad on Sunday and kinda long hair that was floppy. Dad would say he looked like a sheep-dog and Xander sniffled and wiped his nose with some toilet paper and went back out to the living room because he didn't want to think about it.
Didn't want to think about his Dad trying to find him to fix the steps and he wasn't there.
William was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching TV when he came back out. He'd put on his shirt and some socks but no shoes and he looked like he felt cold, sitting all hunched over with his hands tucked down between his legs. Xander sat down next to him.
"What're you watching?"
"I - I don't know. Miss Willow - did it. She said it was - a c-cartoon?"
"Yeah?" The commercial - for a game Xander had never heard of - ended and then the cartoon came on. "Scooby-Doo!" Xander crowed, and William looked at him.
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's Scooby-Doo, dummy! Don't you like Scooby-Doo?"
"I've never - I haven't seen it. We don't have…Scooby-Doo in London."
"Wow. That sucks," Xander said. "It's really cool. There's this dog, Scooby-Doo.... See? Right there. And his friend Shaggy. And then him and Shaggy and Velma and Daphne and Fred all go around solving mysteries and stuff." Xander bounced a little. This one was a new one - he hadn't seen it before.
"What sort of mysteries?" William asked. He was leaning forward a little, frowning.
"Like - like there's a ghost haunting a house and everybody runs away but the Scoobies come in and find out the ghost is really just some guy dressed up 'cause there's buried treasure or something in the house and he wants it all for himself."
"Oh." William's eyes were wide, fixed on the TV and Xander stopped talking and sat criss-cross on the bed, watching too. Willow and Tara were sitting in the kitchen and after a minute Willow kind of moved around.
"Are you guys hungry? Xander, do you think you could eat without getting sick?"
"Yeah, I'm hungry. Is there Cocoa-Puffs? I like Cocoa-Puffs or Honeycomb or Sugar Smacks best."
"Yeah, I remember," Willow said, and Xander gave her a look.
"How do you remember?"
"Oh! Uh - well, I uh -" She looked really nervous and Tara was touching her arm, kind of petting it.
"You know, it's really weird that your name is Willow too, just like my friend at school. It's a weird name. And she has red hair, too, only hers is longer and she wears sailor dresses instead of that hippy stuff."
"It's not hippy stuff!" Willow yelped.
"My mom says hippies wore long skirts and stuff like that, all colors and stuff." Xander watched Willow smooth her hands down over her long, bright skirt. "I like the purple parts best," he added, because this Willow seemed kind of upset. Like his own Willow got when Cordelia-stinky-Chase-face said mean things about her dresses.
"I like the purple part, too," Willow said finally, and then Tara got up and opened the 'fridge so Xander bounced again, because it looked like they were gonna have breakfast. Now that his head didn't hurt so much and he'd puked, his stomach was kind of rumbley. William looked rumbley, too.
"Hey, William, you like Sugar Smacks for breakfast?"
William thought about it for a minute. "I don't know. I usually have eggs and toast and porridge for breakfast. What are Sugar Smacks?"
Xander laughed, falling back on the bed and making William lurch a little. "What are Sugar Smacks? They're cereal! Everybody has cereal for breakfast!"
"I don't," William said, and Xander laughed some more.
"You're weird."
"No I'm not!" William looked hurt and maybe a little angry and then Willow came over and turned off the TV.
"C'mon you guys, lets eat, okay?"
"Cereal!" Xander shouted, and jumped up and ran for the kitchen.
Mr. Giles was English, which made William feel almost sick with relief. Unfortunately, he seemed as upset and confused as Miss Tara and Miss Willow and after a bit William went back to drawing on the paper Miss Tara had found for him. It had faint blue lines on it and was very thin, and came in pages in a strange sort of notebook with a wire hinge. Xander was still watching cartoons, with a big bowl of popcorn. William had his own, smaller bowl. It was very salty.
"Yes, well, you know my objections, but I agree that this is the best option we have." Mr. Giles was standing over near the sink, looking unhappy - cleaning his spectacles with a handkerchief, much like William's father. William felt a pang of unhappiness at that - his father had been gone for nearly a year, and William missed him.
He looked away as Mr. Giles looked toward him - pretended to be concentrating on his 'journal' as Mr. Giles and the ladies walked over. Miss Willow turned off the cartoons, shushing Xander's immediate objections.
"William, would you please come sit here? Xander - right next to him." The bed in the middle of the room had folded up into a dull-red chesterfield with velveteen upholstery that William knew his mother wouldn't have liked. It had a worn patch on one arm. William got up and sat on the couch, still unsettled by the fact that he was taller than the ladies. But not taller than Xander or Mr. Giles, which felt...better.
"Now - William, Xander. I'm going to tell you exactly what happened to you. It's going to sound - well, fairly unbelievable, but I promise you both - I'm telling the truth." Mr. Giles put his spectacles back on and settled into the wooden chair Miss Willow had brought from the scullery.
"Boys - magic is real." Mr Giles looked solemnly at them and Xander laughed and so did William but then they both sobered as Mr. Giles continued to look at them. "I know it seems - well, insane, but Willow is going to show you some magic, to prove it to you."
"Is she a witch? Witches do magic - real witches." Xander looked expectantly at Miss Willow and she made a funny kind of face.
"Well, yes. I am a witch. But I'm a good witch, not a bad witch. I'm like - like Glinda in the Wizard of Oz!"
William had no idea what she was talking about and in fact was feeling a little panicked. Witches were bad - the vicar said so. He shouldn't even be talking to Miss Willow if she was a witch. His mother would be so, so disappointed in him.
"William? William, it's all right." It was Mr. Giles, leaning forward, his big, warm hand resting on William's shoulder. "I know that this talk of witches is - unsettling, but -"
"Mother wouldn't like it at all. Or the vicar, he - he said all witches were minions of Satan."
"Satan! Is he the one with the horns?" Xander whispered, leaning in.
"Yes, he is. Lucifer," William whispered back.
"Ooh." Xander looked up at Miss Willow, eyes wide.
"I'm not a minion of Satan!" Miss Willow exclaimed, and William frowned at her.
"The vicar said you would say that."
"Oh, for - Giles, tell him!"
"Willow -" Giles made a 'be calm' sort of motion with his hand and Miss Willow crossed her arms over her chest, looking a bit angry. Miss Tara touched her arm, petting it again, and William wondered if they were sisters or cousins. They seemed very close. "What Willow says is true, William - she is a good witch. There are some very bad witches and she - she helps me to stop them from doing bad things. Willow -" Giles nodded and Miss Willow nodded back.
"Okay. Now - don't be scared. I promise nothing I do can hurt you, okay? Just - watch." Miss Willow closed her eyes, Miss Tara's hand clasped in hers. She whispered something - Latin, William thought, but he didn't catch it all. Then she held her hand out, palm up. A paleness glowed there - grew - until a light danced over Miss Willow's palm, golden and glowing and sending off little sparks like a collapsing log in a fireplace.
"Oh, wow - look! Will, look!"
"What is it?" William breathed, secretly pleased at the Will. He'd never been called that before by a boy - it had a friendly sound.
"It's a Tinkerbell light," Miss Tara said, and Xander put his hand out.
"Can I touch her? I mean - it? It's not - is it really Tinkerbell?"
"No, it's just a light named after her. It helps us at night to - um - to see where we're walking and stuff," Miss Willow said.
"Who is Tinkerbell?" William asked, staring entranced at the glowing, gently coruscating light.
"She's a fairy," Xander said. "From Peter Pan - don't you remember?"
"I - I suppose not," William said, distracted. He watched Miss Willow lift her palm to her lips and blow gently, and the - Tinkerbell light danced away from her - spun and flitted until it was hovering right in front of him and Xander.
"Can I touch it? Will it let me touch it?" Xander asked, and Miss Willow nodded.
"You can touch it. It doesn't feel like much of anything."
Xander lifted his hand and the light danced through his fingers, and Xander giggled. "Touch it! Will, c'mon, touch it, it tickles!"
William looked up at Mr. Giles who smiled at him - nodded encouragingly. He lifted his hand and held it out - rather like feeding a sugar lump to Uncle Bayard's gelding. The light twirled through his fingers, cool and then hot and prickly. Ticklish, like Xander had said and William smiled. "Oh! I say, that's - that's actually quite brilliant!"
"Finis," Miss Willow said, and the light whirled apart and disappeared. Xander made a disappointed noise. "Okay, so - there, magic's real, and I'm a witch, but a good one, and - and Mr. Giles is going to tell you the rest." She squeezed Miss Tara's hand in hers and William wondered just how the vicar had got it wrong.
"Yes, of course." Mr. Giles didn't look pleased at being the one to tell and William felt his shoulders hunching down. He straightened them, lifting his chin.
"It's all right, Mr. Giles - we'll believe you."
"Yes, well...uh...thank you, William. Now..." Mr. Giles hitched his chair forward a few inches. "It seems, boys, that a witch has put a spell on the both of you. A spell to make you...forget some things."
"What kind of things?"
"Why would a witch want to do that?" Xander spoke at the same time as William and they both looked over at each other, smiling.
"We're not sure why - I suppose we'll find out when we find the witch. As to what you've forgotten...." Mr. Giles glanced up at the women - cleared his throat. "You've forgotten that you're adults."
"I think Mr. Giles is wrong," Xander said. He poked at the macaroni and cheese Tara had fixed, swirling the stripes of ketchup into it. "I think the witch swapped our brains or something. Put us in these bodies."
"Yes, but...." William took a bite of his macaroni and made a little face. "But they knew our names. They were expecting us to be here and...and the clothing that we found fits...." William plucked at the tight black t-shirt Willow had handed him, looking unhappy.
Xander sighed. "Yeah, but...there's no way we're grown ups! I mean...it was my birthday last week! I'm nine. I remember. I was supposed to help my dad today. We were gonna fix the back step that got broke. He said I could hold the saw." Suddenly, the macaroni didn't taste very good, and Xander pushed his plate away. "He's gonna be really mad when he can't find me."
"My father's been away in India." William took a drink of his milk. "He's in the Army - he's an officer."
"Is there a war?"
"Oh, no - India is at peace, now, but you can't be too careful, that's what the vicar says." William pushed his own plate away, as well. "I wish the vicar wouldn't talk quite so much. He's always coming 'round and taking up all of Mother's time and making me study my Ulysses."
"What's that?"
"It's a dreadfully boring story. He says I should be able to recite it."
"Oh, homework. I don't have any homework 'cause it's summertime." Xander looked over at Willow, who was sitting curled up on the couch, surrounded by books and papers. Tara was beside her, writing something. Xander leaned closer to William and whispered. "I bet if we say we have to go to the bathroom, we can climb out the window."
William's eyes got very round, and he looked over at the women, too, hunching closer. "But what if we're up high? How will we get down?"
"I dunno." Xander chewed his bottom lip for a moment. "Let's go see. If it's too high we'll just...maybe we can make a rope out of towels or something."
William looked at the women - back at Xander - and then he nodded, his mouth curling a little in a tiny smile. "All right, then - let's go!"
Yup, that's all. :)
Originally entered at http://tabaqui.dreamwidth.org/177070.html - comment where you please!