Eric Jablow
2008-01-21 01:40:25 UTC
Parallel Conversations
by Eric Jablow
Part Two
BtVS was created by Joss Whedon, Daria was created by
Glenn Eichler, and the referred-to Bat Boy by the late
Weekly World News.
Rating: R.
Sequel to "Chiropteran", and to "Inspired
Conversations". Background and flashbacks come from
"Community" and from "Keepers in Rome," available on my
home site and earlier on this news group.
-----
Xander locked the bathroom door behind him and stripped
of his clothes. "I don't know what she's playing at,"
he thought, "But she's right; we are filthy." He set
the shower to 'parboil' and began the clean the
graveyard grime off himself.
Fifteen minutes later, Xander was drying himself and
looking at himself in the mirror. He winced at the
streaks of white scars that interrupted his reddened
skin. The skin around his left eye disturbed him even
more; only three courses of surgery had fixed it enough
that he could use a prosthetic. At least that and his
recovery from the gunshot wound had given the WCI the
time to reorganize itself before the LA Operation.
Xander realized he was taking too long, and he looked
down at his clothes. "I'm not wearing those."
Shrugging, he wrapped a bath towel around himself,
grabbed his clothes, and walked out.
"Got lost, Xander?" Buffy was dressed in a bathrobe.
"A little, Buff. A lot to think about. Looking into
mirrors can do it to you."
"Guess that's why vampires never seem to think."
"Our advantage, Buffy."
Buffy stood up and marched toward the bathroom. "You'd
better be here when I get back."
"Got it. Where else would I go?"
The bathroom door slammed behind her.
---
London, England
Rupert Giles' Flat
Giles was sitting at his kitchen table sipping a cup of tea and
buttering a scone when his phone rang. He grumbled and
picked up the receiver; the caller ID showed that the
call came from the local WCI office.
"Giles."
"Samuel Folkes, watcher-on-duty."
"Report, please."
"I have a report from the USA, Cleveland office,
Sir."
"Go on."
"The Senior Slayer and the CEO have neutralized a gang
of vampires led by Lyle Gorch, but the report is
somewhat peculiar. The two are uninjured, at least. I
believe you should peruse Ms. Dawn Summers' report
immediately. I have forwarded it to your account."
"Did Lyle Gorch escape?"
"No, sir. Please, read the report."
"Yes, Samuel."
"Ms. Summers added a note on the cover sheet: 'Please
do not call any of us until 1400 GMT, please. It's
been a long night.'"
"Thank you. I may be late this morning." Giles ended
the conversation and opened his 'infernal machine.' He
opened up his mail and spent the next half-hour
swearing in Latin.
---
Xander sat on one of the twin beds. "I've done
everything twice," he thought. Six years before on
Graduation Night, the gang had walked away from the
high school they had wrecked. First, they had dropped
Buffy at her house to face her demons. Then, Willow
and Oz had headed off to recuperate in the most
traditional of fashions. Anya would have approved of
their method. Finally, he and Cordy had sat in a
neighborhood playground and came to a tentative peace.
"Look, I really need to get away for a few
days. Do you want to take a road trip? I
still have Uncle's car."
"Not much money, though, for either of us."
"Ah well, that's what sleeping bags and
tents are for. We'll camp out."
"And, when did you think of inviting me?"
"Just now. But, there's no one I'd rather
go with."
"How romantic. Are you sure? We might kill
each other still."
"After tonight? You killing me is the
least of my worries. Demon snakes,
yes. You, no."
"Let's get our stuff."
And two days later, he sat on a bed in a small motel
room waiting for Cordy to finish her shower. Now, he
was doing it again. If only he had been able to
persuade her to stay in Sunnydale. But what did Buffy
want? She couldn't want him, could she?
---
Giles nearly shook with rage. She had faced
twelve-to-one odds, with Xander kept from helping, and
with a useless bodyguard getting in their way. And
they had survived only because a creature called 'Bat
Boy' had intervened.
Then, Buffy and Xander had been arrested by the FBI.
Giles felt his blood pressure increase another 20
points as he contemplated the return of the Initiative.
Fortunately, the S [for Supernatural] Committee seemed
like it would prevent that disaster from progressing.
Still, he would need to visit Washington soon, a task
he had never liked.
And why was there a bodyguard there anyway? She needed
none, so he was Xander's. Xander would never take one
for himself, so somebody foisted one on him. He called
the London WCI office.
"WCI. Samuel Folkes, Sir."
"Samuel, where is our Treasurer now?"
"I shall check, Sir." After a minute, Samuel spoke
again. "Ms. Rosenberg is at her flat in Cleveland with
Ms. Kennedy."
"Thank you. I do not want to interrupt that, but I
shall need to discuss things with her very soon. She
may not be reckless with her magic any more, but she's
still reckless with people. I shall fly back to the
United States in a fortnight; this will give me time to
prepare."
"Of course, Sir."
"Very well, Samuel. I shall leave now for the office;
expect me in an hour."
"Yes, Sir. All shall be ready for you."
Giles set the phone down.
---
Xander lay on one of the room's twin beds under a
blanket, nearly asleep. He hardly not as the noise of
the shower receded. Two minutes later, Xander turned
over and started to slip into unconsciousness.
Buffy opened the bathroom door, and walked over to
Xander.
"Xander. Xander, I need you awake for this."
Xander groaned and mumbled, "It's two-something. Can
we do this in the morning?"
"Xander, we need to talk. Get up."
"You won't stop, will you?" Buffy shook her head.
"Make some coffee at least."
"Follow me when you can." Buffy went back into the
bathroom and started playing with the guest
coffee-maker.
Xander waited a moment, and slipped off the bed; he was
careful to rearrange his towel. He gingerly walked
to the bathroom; the bathtub was nearly full with hot
water, and Buffy stood in her robe waiting for the pot
to finish brewing. He goggled at her. "Buffy?"
"Get in, Xander. I'll bring the coffee."
"Are you sure?" He stopped for a moment, and then he
said slowly, "This isn't like you."
"We're adults. Besides, you've done this before, I'm
sure."
"Only with people I've had relationships with. Not
like this. Not with you."
"Don't act like a baby. We've been knocked around by
vampires, held in jail cells, been flown around by
half-bats, and spent hours in a stupid minivan. I just
want to relax with a friend. Someone who stands for
something." "Not like the Immortal," Buffy thought.
Xander said, "Seven years ago, I'd have sold my soul for
this."
"Teenaged boys."
"Yeah. On three. One. Two. Three." Xander let his
towel fall, and Buffy opened and dropped her robe.
---
Kennedy sat up in bed and looked fondly down at Willow.
Willow had finally fallen asleep after their long
evening of watching the movie "Sin City," getting
coffee at the local Boundary's, patrolling the local
club district, extricating a tipsy college student from
the vampire trying to pick her up, staking said
vampire, and celebrating in bed. Willow may be one of
the most powerful of witches on Earth, but when it came
to staying up late, she was a lightweight.
She slipped out of bed, walked into the kitchen, and
prepared a cup of cocoa. When it was ready, she
grabbed the kitchen phone, and dialed the WCI office.
"WCI. Oh, hi Ken."
"Hello, Janice."
"How was patrol?"
"Pretty simple. We found and took out a vamp trolling
for coeds at the Terne. It's in Erie Square. That's
it. What happened in tonight's op?"
"Well, we didn't have any casualties, but it was
close. Three simple stakings, but the one in Lexington
went bad."
"Buffy's case?"
"Buffy, Xander, and Roger ran into a gang led by Lyle
Gorch. They nearly got her, but a flying mutant bat
thing saved her. They killed Lyle, a few vamps got
away, but the FBI arrested them.
"Over Slaying?"
"Over the bat-thing. Don't worry; Dawn took care of
it."
"Jeez. Willow wanted to go with them; now I'm glad we
didn't. Willow casting combat magic--that causes
problems. That's why she doesn't teach it."
"How bad was it after the LA operation?"
"Not so bad. She hadn't struck at anyone directly; she
just reflected their power at them. She misses being
able to work directly, though. I do too."
"You're a power-junkie, Ken. I was worried about her
when she went to Africa after Xander was shot."
Kennedy paused; she did not want to talk about the
consequences of that trip. "Jan, why couldn't we send
more Slayers though?"
"It would have taken a week to get any more. HQ needs
a Slayer at all times; that's me this week. The
Hellmouth needs one; that's you this week. Otherwise,
we were stuck with the nearest local Slayer and Watcher
pair. If this were New York or Chicago, we'd be able
to shuffle groups around, but we just couldn't."
"I guess."
"One more thing, and Willow will be annoyed when she
finds out. That bodyguard idea--not the greatest. He
was more in the way than useful. We can't use
defense-only people. After it all, Buffy dismissed
Roger; Roger will be on his way back here in the
morning."
"Crap. I'll try to soothe her in the morning."
"Don't tell me how, all right?"
---
"What, Xan?"
Xander stared at Buffy's body.
"Okay, so I'm not a real blonde. So what?"
"Sorry, Buffy. You have more scars than I remember.
That one was from the Sunnydale battle?"
Buffy nodded. "So do you, Xander. The leg was from
Zimbabwe?"
"It was. The arm was from a snake demon in Kenya, and
the shoulder was when from a domestic misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding, Xander?"
Xander nodded. "Tala's father didn't understand why I
was sniffing around his daughter. We worked it out
later. So, why are we talking?"
"We're still going to be talking, Xander. Get in.
Relax."
"Okay." Xander watched as Buffy stepped into the tub,
and he whistled softly. Buffy laughed softly at that,
and Xander got into the other end of the tub. The two
sipped their coffee cups.
Respectfully,
Eric Jablow
by Eric Jablow
Part Two
BtVS was created by Joss Whedon, Daria was created by
Glenn Eichler, and the referred-to Bat Boy by the late
Weekly World News.
Rating: R.
Sequel to "Chiropteran", and to "Inspired
Conversations". Background and flashbacks come from
"Community" and from "Keepers in Rome," available on my
home site and earlier on this news group.
-----
Xander locked the bathroom door behind him and stripped
of his clothes. "I don't know what she's playing at,"
he thought, "But she's right; we are filthy." He set
the shower to 'parboil' and began the clean the
graveyard grime off himself.
Fifteen minutes later, Xander was drying himself and
looking at himself in the mirror. He winced at the
streaks of white scars that interrupted his reddened
skin. The skin around his left eye disturbed him even
more; only three courses of surgery had fixed it enough
that he could use a prosthetic. At least that and his
recovery from the gunshot wound had given the WCI the
time to reorganize itself before the LA Operation.
Xander realized he was taking too long, and he looked
down at his clothes. "I'm not wearing those."
Shrugging, he wrapped a bath towel around himself,
grabbed his clothes, and walked out.
"Got lost, Xander?" Buffy was dressed in a bathrobe.
"A little, Buff. A lot to think about. Looking into
mirrors can do it to you."
"Guess that's why vampires never seem to think."
"Our advantage, Buffy."
Buffy stood up and marched toward the bathroom. "You'd
better be here when I get back."
"Got it. Where else would I go?"
The bathroom door slammed behind her.
---
London, England
Rupert Giles' Flat
Giles was sitting at his kitchen table sipping a cup of tea and
buttering a scone when his phone rang. He grumbled and
picked up the receiver; the caller ID showed that the
call came from the local WCI office.
"Giles."
"Samuel Folkes, watcher-on-duty."
"Report, please."
"I have a report from the USA, Cleveland office,
Sir."
"Go on."
"The Senior Slayer and the CEO have neutralized a gang
of vampires led by Lyle Gorch, but the report is
somewhat peculiar. The two are uninjured, at least. I
believe you should peruse Ms. Dawn Summers' report
immediately. I have forwarded it to your account."
"Did Lyle Gorch escape?"
"No, sir. Please, read the report."
"Yes, Samuel."
"Ms. Summers added a note on the cover sheet: 'Please
do not call any of us until 1400 GMT, please. It's
been a long night.'"
"Thank you. I may be late this morning." Giles ended
the conversation and opened his 'infernal machine.' He
opened up his mail and spent the next half-hour
swearing in Latin.
---
Xander sat on one of the twin beds. "I've done
everything twice," he thought. Six years before on
Graduation Night, the gang had walked away from the
high school they had wrecked. First, they had dropped
Buffy at her house to face her demons. Then, Willow
and Oz had headed off to recuperate in the most
traditional of fashions. Anya would have approved of
their method. Finally, he and Cordy had sat in a
neighborhood playground and came to a tentative peace.
"Look, I really need to get away for a few
days. Do you want to take a road trip? I
still have Uncle's car."
"Not much money, though, for either of us."
"Ah well, that's what sleeping bags and
tents are for. We'll camp out."
"And, when did you think of inviting me?"
"Just now. But, there's no one I'd rather
go with."
"How romantic. Are you sure? We might kill
each other still."
"After tonight? You killing me is the
least of my worries. Demon snakes,
yes. You, no."
"Let's get our stuff."
And two days later, he sat on a bed in a small motel
room waiting for Cordy to finish her shower. Now, he
was doing it again. If only he had been able to
persuade her to stay in Sunnydale. But what did Buffy
want? She couldn't want him, could she?
---
Giles nearly shook with rage. She had faced
twelve-to-one odds, with Xander kept from helping, and
with a useless bodyguard getting in their way. And
they had survived only because a creature called 'Bat
Boy' had intervened.
Then, Buffy and Xander had been arrested by the FBI.
Giles felt his blood pressure increase another 20
points as he contemplated the return of the Initiative.
Fortunately, the S [for Supernatural] Committee seemed
like it would prevent that disaster from progressing.
Still, he would need to visit Washington soon, a task
he had never liked.
And why was there a bodyguard there anyway? She needed
none, so he was Xander's. Xander would never take one
for himself, so somebody foisted one on him. He called
the London WCI office.
"WCI. Samuel Folkes, Sir."
"Samuel, where is our Treasurer now?"
"I shall check, Sir." After a minute, Samuel spoke
again. "Ms. Rosenberg is at her flat in Cleveland with
Ms. Kennedy."
"Thank you. I do not want to interrupt that, but I
shall need to discuss things with her very soon. She
may not be reckless with her magic any more, but she's
still reckless with people. I shall fly back to the
United States in a fortnight; this will give me time to
prepare."
"Of course, Sir."
"Very well, Samuel. I shall leave now for the office;
expect me in an hour."
"Yes, Sir. All shall be ready for you."
Giles set the phone down.
---
Xander lay on one of the room's twin beds under a
blanket, nearly asleep. He hardly not as the noise of
the shower receded. Two minutes later, Xander turned
over and started to slip into unconsciousness.
Buffy opened the bathroom door, and walked over to
Xander.
"Xander. Xander, I need you awake for this."
Xander groaned and mumbled, "It's two-something. Can
we do this in the morning?"
"Xander, we need to talk. Get up."
"You won't stop, will you?" Buffy shook her head.
"Make some coffee at least."
"Follow me when you can." Buffy went back into the
bathroom and started playing with the guest
coffee-maker.
Xander waited a moment, and slipped off the bed; he was
careful to rearrange his towel. He gingerly walked
to the bathroom; the bathtub was nearly full with hot
water, and Buffy stood in her robe waiting for the pot
to finish brewing. He goggled at her. "Buffy?"
"Get in, Xander. I'll bring the coffee."
"Are you sure?" He stopped for a moment, and then he
said slowly, "This isn't like you."
"We're adults. Besides, you've done this before, I'm
sure."
"Only with people I've had relationships with. Not
like this. Not with you."
"Don't act like a baby. We've been knocked around by
vampires, held in jail cells, been flown around by
half-bats, and spent hours in a stupid minivan. I just
want to relax with a friend. Someone who stands for
something." "Not like the Immortal," Buffy thought.
Xander said, "Seven years ago, I'd have sold my soul for
this."
"Teenaged boys."
"Yeah. On three. One. Two. Three." Xander let his
towel fall, and Buffy opened and dropped her robe.
---
Kennedy sat up in bed and looked fondly down at Willow.
Willow had finally fallen asleep after their long
evening of watching the movie "Sin City," getting
coffee at the local Boundary's, patrolling the local
club district, extricating a tipsy college student from
the vampire trying to pick her up, staking said
vampire, and celebrating in bed. Willow may be one of
the most powerful of witches on Earth, but when it came
to staying up late, she was a lightweight.
She slipped out of bed, walked into the kitchen, and
prepared a cup of cocoa. When it was ready, she
grabbed the kitchen phone, and dialed the WCI office.
"WCI. Oh, hi Ken."
"Hello, Janice."
"How was patrol?"
"Pretty simple. We found and took out a vamp trolling
for coeds at the Terne. It's in Erie Square. That's
it. What happened in tonight's op?"
"Well, we didn't have any casualties, but it was
close. Three simple stakings, but the one in Lexington
went bad."
"Buffy's case?"
"Buffy, Xander, and Roger ran into a gang led by Lyle
Gorch. They nearly got her, but a flying mutant bat
thing saved her. They killed Lyle, a few vamps got
away, but the FBI arrested them.
"Over Slaying?"
"Over the bat-thing. Don't worry; Dawn took care of
it."
"Jeez. Willow wanted to go with them; now I'm glad we
didn't. Willow casting combat magic--that causes
problems. That's why she doesn't teach it."
"How bad was it after the LA operation?"
"Not so bad. She hadn't struck at anyone directly; she
just reflected their power at them. She misses being
able to work directly, though. I do too."
"You're a power-junkie, Ken. I was worried about her
when she went to Africa after Xander was shot."
Kennedy paused; she did not want to talk about the
consequences of that trip. "Jan, why couldn't we send
more Slayers though?"
"It would have taken a week to get any more. HQ needs
a Slayer at all times; that's me this week. The
Hellmouth needs one; that's you this week. Otherwise,
we were stuck with the nearest local Slayer and Watcher
pair. If this were New York or Chicago, we'd be able
to shuffle groups around, but we just couldn't."
"I guess."
"One more thing, and Willow will be annoyed when she
finds out. That bodyguard idea--not the greatest. He
was more in the way than useful. We can't use
defense-only people. After it all, Buffy dismissed
Roger; Roger will be on his way back here in the
morning."
"Crap. I'll try to soothe her in the morning."
"Don't tell me how, all right?"
---
"What, Xan?"
Xander stared at Buffy's body.
"Okay, so I'm not a real blonde. So what?"
"Sorry, Buffy. You have more scars than I remember.
That one was from the Sunnydale battle?"
Buffy nodded. "So do you, Xander. The leg was from
Zimbabwe?"
"It was. The arm was from a snake demon in Kenya, and
the shoulder was when from a domestic misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding, Xander?"
Xander nodded. "Tala's father didn't understand why I
was sniffing around his daughter. We worked it out
later. So, why are we talking?"
"We're still going to be talking, Xander. Get in.
Relax."
"Okay." Xander watched as Buffy stepped into the tub,
and he whistled softly. Buffy laughed softly at that,
and Xander got into the other end of the tub. The two
sipped their coffee cups.
Respectfully,
Eric Jablow