Ugh. Something had died and crawled into her throat. Willow was sure of it. Then there was this little band, of what she was also sure, not so miniature imps doing some kinda conga in her head. It was pounding like Willow had *never* experienced before. Her mouth was dry, she felt thirsty but most of all, she realised as she rushed to the bathroom.... She hadda throw up. Lots. And lots. And ewwww
( ... )
Buffy saw her best friend sprawled on her bed. From the looks of it, Willow had missed her morning classes due to their, well, mostly hers, night of many, many cute alcoholic drinks. If they hadn't been so cute with their umbrellas and colors, they probably wouldn't have drank so many. Seeing Willow's morning after reaction, Buffy was suddenly very grateful for her Slayer constitution and the ability to fight off the amount of alcohol she had consumed. Though it couldn't compare to Willow's, she had felt quite giddy the previous night
( ... )
Willow nodded at the 'sorry' and vowed to never do that again. Nodding just wasn't the best thing to do with this headache. It was one of the explody sort which made Willow swear she was never, ever gonna be drinking again. No matter how cute the drink and how many funny umbrella's they'd put in the darn things. And it was still Oz' fault! If it hadn't been for him Willow wouldn't have the grand-dutchess, head-queen, monster headache of them all
( ... )
Buffy grimaced, realizing way after she had discussed gross foods that that was probably the last thing a barfy-feeling hangover person wanted to hear. Good going. Then again, she had never dealt with the hangover thing or much with the sick thing--unless one counted that horrible flu or that time her vamp boyfriend fed a demon heart to her to keep from hearing people's thoughts--so her cheerful and obnoxiously helpful demeanor was probably more annoying than she realized
( ... )
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