Jenny sighed, smiling just slightly as she half-listened to her husband's continuing grumbles about Spike -- only catching the occasional word like 'stake' and 'public flogging' -- while also half-listening to Spike and Xander bickering in the back.
She got up as she spotted a green-faced Xander clutching his stomach and making his way toward the front, getting out of the passenger seat just in time for him to collapse in it, throwing her a brief nod of gratitude. Turning to Rupert then, he said, "That guy is blood-suckin' the last nerve right outta me."
"Well, Buffy has a point," he told him. "In a confrontation, Spike may prove... useful."
"Interesting," Jenny smirked, folding her arms across her chest as she stood behind the passenger seat. "Where'd you pick up that observant point-of-view, I wonder."
He threw her a look and she grinned, all of this going unnoticed by the still-queasy Xander. "I don't know if Buffy's thinkin' too clear on that one, or anything else right now." He gulped audibly, breaking out in a light sweat. "I've never seen her so..."
"She's been through an awful lot lately, Xander," Jenny reminded him, and went to the kitchen to wet down a cloth, folding it and bringing it back to him then.
"She just needs a chance to catch her breath... regroup," Rupert added on to her train of thought. "She'll be alright."
"Yeah. She'll..." Xander gulped again. "Yeah."
Jenny pressed the cool washcloth to his forehead, nudging him to rest the back of his head on the seat. He closed his eyes. "Thanks," he told her, squeezing her hand. "That helps."
She smiled. "Good. Just let me know when it gets too warm for you, I'll go wet it down again."
He nodded, and in his groggy, ill state, he slurred, "You'd be a great mom, Miss Calendar."
Jenny met eyes with her husband ever-so-briefly then, before she flicked a small smile, patting the boy's shoulder, "Thanks, Xander," and heading into the back with the others.
She got up as she spotted a green-faced Xander clutching his stomach and making his way toward the front, getting out of the passenger seat just in time for him to collapse in it, throwing her a brief nod of gratitude. Turning to Rupert then, he said, "That guy is blood-suckin' the last nerve right outta me."
"Well, Buffy has a point," he told him. "In a confrontation, Spike may prove... useful."
"Interesting," Jenny smirked, folding her arms across her chest as she stood behind the passenger seat. "Where'd you pick up that observant point-of-view, I wonder."
He threw her a look and she grinned, all of this going unnoticed by the still-queasy Xander. "I don't know if Buffy's thinkin' too clear on that one, or anything else right now." He gulped audibly, breaking out in a light sweat. "I've never seen her so..."
"She's been through an awful lot lately, Xander," Jenny reminded him, and went to the kitchen to wet down a cloth, folding it and bringing it back to him then.
"She just needs a chance to catch her breath... regroup," Rupert added on to her train of thought. "She'll be alright."
"Yeah. She'll..." Xander gulped again. "Yeah."
Jenny pressed the cool washcloth to his forehead, nudging him to rest the back of his head on the seat. He closed his eyes. "Thanks," he told her, squeezing her hand. "That helps."
She smiled. "Good. Just let me know when it gets too warm for you, I'll go wet it down again."
He nodded, and in his groggy, ill state, he slurred, "You'd be a great mom, Miss Calendar."
Jenny met eyes with her husband ever-so-briefly then, before she flicked a small smile, patting the boy's shoulder, "Thanks, Xander," and heading into the back with the others.
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