Why wasn't she happy? Well, a complex combination of factors. First and foremost was the impending Apocalypse. Followed closely by the fact that her best friend and most powerful ally currently lay incapacitated in a hospital bed. Then there was the burgeoning migraine she was getting from staring at books that made little to no sense. And bringing up the proverbial rear there was the fact that they were so clueless as to how to stop the oncoming danger that they needed to call in Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, in whom she was not exactly brimming with faith
( ... )
Just Buffy and Giles, thank goodness, Wesley thought to himself, though the reactions were much as expected. Besides, Willow was hurt, wasn't she? So perhaps Buffy's lack of enthusiasm was in part also distraction and concern.
"Hello, Buffy, Giles," Wesley greeted, returning the handshake. "It's no trouble, and the weather was fine, thank you. Is Willow going to be all right?"
"In time," Giles nodded, though he didn't seem entirely sure about that. "It's possible that destroying the source of magic responsible will speed her recovery."
Wesley nodded. That was standard for many magical ailments. "Let's get right to it, then, shall we?"
"Yes, that would probably be best. Time, or the lack of it, is becoming rather a pressing concern." Giles assented, motioning towards the table, and all the assembled heaps of books. He gestured to one in particular, glasses in hand, whilst Buffy looked on, arms folded
( ... )
Wesley absorbed all this as quickly as possible and picked up the indicated book. "Blue humanoids with ridges on the forehead and spines on the arms?" he clarified, looking up to see Giles nod. "Sounds Mephidinal, possibly Grenadin." He opened the book and nodded. "Grenadin of some sort. This won't be easy."
He was in full researching mode as he took up a piece of scrap paper and starting jotting down book titles. "Giles, how many of these do you have?"
"All of them, I believe," Giles commented, reading over his shoulder. "Ah, except those last two, but I can procure them."
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Why wasn't she happy? Well, a complex combination of factors. First and foremost was the impending Apocalypse. Followed closely by the fact that her best friend and most powerful ally currently lay incapacitated in a hospital bed. Then there was the burgeoning migraine she was getting from staring at books that made little to no sense. And bringing up the proverbial rear there was the fact that they were so clueless as to how to stop the oncoming danger that they needed to call in Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, in whom she was not exactly brimming with faith ( ... )
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"Hello, Buffy, Giles," Wesley greeted, returning the handshake. "It's no trouble, and the weather was fine, thank you. Is Willow going to be all right?"
"In time," Giles nodded, though he didn't seem entirely sure about that. "It's possible that destroying the source of magic responsible will speed her recovery."
Wesley nodded. That was standard for many magical ailments. "Let's get right to it, then, shall we?"
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He was in full researching mode as he took up a piece of scrap paper and starting jotting down book titles. "Giles, how many of these do you have?"
"All of them, I believe," Giles commented, reading over his shoulder. "Ah, except those last two, but I can procure them."
"I can start without them," Wesley nodded.
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