Buffy has experience with the Rift. She has experience with spontaneous singing. She knows that normally, people who spontaneously burst into song because they want to (see: Shawn Spencer), don't normally look this scared and out of place.
Buffy doesn't spend a lot of time with Shawn, but honestly, the man drives a wiener mobile. He's kind of hard to miss, and hot dogs happen to be a good post-slaying snack. But the singing, that's a problem.
Regardless, she's disregarding the singing -- if Sweet has fallen through the Rift, she'll find him and take him down fast -- and dealing with the fact that scared frantic looking girl means probably a new Wanderer. She slowly makes her way closer, and gives her a friendly smile.
She wasn't familiar. She was too pretty for Bonnie to have overlooked her in Fell's Church. Nothing was looking like home. Nothing was right.
It had to be a dream, right?
"Will you raise me up, will you help me down?" she sang to the blond woman. "Will you get me right out of this godforsaken town? Will you make it all a little less cold?"
Not what she's expecting, but she can read between the lines. She's taking those particular lyrics to mean that she's in need of a bit of help, one way or the other.
"And now I want to listen to Meatloaf," she sighs. "I can try and help? Though this might not be what you want to hear."
Both of these questions are distracting enough that they make Bonnie stop singing, and she furrows her brow a little as she examines the other woman. Which question is more important to get further information about?
"Is that your full name or is it short for something?" she asks.
"I like it," Bonnie decides. "Buffy." She likes the way it feels when you say it. It's fun.
Of course, now probably isn't the time to be talking about names and how they feel to say.
"Sorry to bother you but would you mind telling me..." Bonnie's pretty sure the woman's lying, now that she thinks about it. And she doesn't finish the thought, because she's busy looking around.
Of course...well, Fell's Church doesn't have that skyline.
"How you got to Chicago?" Buffy finishes with a sigh, before nodding. "You fell through a Rift. It's kind of a ... hole, in the fabric of reality. You fell through and you landed here."
Bonnie's pretty sure that's not a real thing. Holes in the fabric of reality are in sci-fi movies and things, but not in normal, everyday life. Of course, neither are vampires and werewolves.
But that is so not the point.
"If that's true," she says with a big emphasis on the if, "Then I need money for airfare home."
Bonnie folds her arms and shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. Participating in this conversation is silly. It's almost like pretending that she believes her.
And she doesn't.
But at the same time, she doesn't know what that means. "My town?" she finally asks.
"Like ... I'm originally from Sunnydale. But Sunnydale doesn't exist in this universe's version of California. So it's likely that your town might not ... be here."
She places her hands on her hips. And slowly she inhales, exhales. Inhales, exhales.
This doesn't seem possible. She's seen so many strange things during her relatively short life, but this is impossible. People just don't jump across the country.
Probably, but Buffy can't really blame her for not doing so. It's just one of those things that they need to sit for, and they can figure out the wet clothes thing later.
"Okay. So -- Chicago is full of these Rifts. And they rip holes into other universes. And sometimes, things fall through these RIfts and get stuck here."
Bonnie tucks her legs to her chest. She begins rocking back and forth, slowly, a method she's long used to calm herself in stressful situations.
"How do people get back?" she asks. There are a dozen questions she could, but that seems most important right now. She has friends, family to get back to. She's sure she doesn't belong here.
Buffy doesn't spend a lot of time with Shawn, but honestly, the man drives a wiener mobile. He's kind of hard to miss, and hot dogs happen to be a good post-slaying snack. But the singing, that's a problem.
Regardless, she's disregarding the singing -- if Sweet has fallen through the Rift, she'll find him and take him down fast -- and dealing with the fact that scared frantic looking girl means probably a new Wanderer. She slowly makes her way closer, and gives her a friendly smile.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
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She wasn't familiar. She was too pretty for Bonnie to have overlooked her in Fell's Church. Nothing was looking like home. Nothing was right.
It had to be a dream, right?
"Will you raise me up, will you help me down?" she sang to the blond woman. "Will you get me right out of this godforsaken town? Will you make it all a little less cold?"
And she paused, as if waiting for an answer.
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"And now I want to listen to Meatloaf," she sighs. "I can try and help? Though this might not be what you want to hear."
Spoiler: it never is.
"My name's Buffy. You're in Chicago."
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First, how did she get to Chicago?
Secondly, who names their child Buffy?
Both of these questions are distracting enough that they make Bonnie stop singing, and she furrows her brow a little as she examines the other woman. Which question is more important to get further information about?
"Is that your full name or is it short for something?" she asks.
Everyone has priorities.
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"It's my full name. I have been Buffy since I was a baby, and no, I'm fairly certain my mother didn't hate me when she named me."
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Of course, now probably isn't the time to be talking about names and how they feel to say.
"Sorry to bother you but would you mind telling me..." Bonnie's pretty sure the woman's lying, now that she thinks about it. And she doesn't finish the thought, because she's busy looking around.
Of course...well, Fell's Church doesn't have that skyline.
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But that is so not the point.
"If that's true," she says with a big emphasis on the if, "Then I need money for airfare home."
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And she doesn't.
But at the same time, she doesn't know what that means. "My town?" she finally asks.
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This doesn't seem possible. She's seen so many strange things during her relatively short life, but this is impossible. People just don't jump across the country.
"Run that by me again?"
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She points. It's got a bit of snow on it, but sitting seems like a good plan at the moment.
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And right now, she feels like she might need to sit. And so she walks over and does just that, sitting down with a plop.
In retrospect, she realizes she probably could have wiped some of the snow to the ground.
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"Okay. So -- Chicago is full of these Rifts. And they rip holes into other universes. And sometimes, things fall through these RIfts and get stuck here."
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"How do people get back?" she asks. There are a dozen questions she could, but that seems most important right now. She has friends, family to get back to. She's sure she doesn't belong here.
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