[ it's not until the sun sets that spike's able to leave the sun-free sanctity of his residence here in luceti and track down the slayer. he didn't say anything about willow going home over the journals, even though he probably should have. he just didn't know what to say that wasn't in person and was never all that much of a fan of doing things over lines of communication such as letters and telephone calls and that godforsaken e-mail business that he rather enjoyed watching angel fail at back home, but that was neither here nor there. and now that the sun was down and the risk of bursting into flames was gone, he could offer whatever she needed - someone to talk to, someone to scream at, a round of kick the spike, maybe even a hug if she'd allow him to give her one - in person and not through some book
( ... )
[When the vamp-senses go a-tingling, Buffy pays attention. In smoother, less selfish repeat of the festival night, she hopes the sensation means the arrival of Drusilla. It would be nice to deal with this problem before anyone got hurt. Or, anyone else in the assumption that there has already been a victim or two.
But then she hears her name and her rather rigid figure relaxes. Imperceptible to many, but most likely impossible to ignore for the vampire who knows her so well.]
Spike. [She turns to look behind her--to look at Spike. There were so many different opening lines available to her. One about Willow, one about how he had questioned her honour the day before. One about how sorry she was, but an apology was right out. She has done too much of that already.
So, Buffy lands on the other common thread:] I'm guessing you saw the big threat-fest with Drusilla?
[ on any other day, he would've given her a look and squinted while making some smart ass comment towards her immediate jump to business, but today, he doesn't. he keeps his expression neutral, free of malice or question - though there is concern. no need to hide that. willow is buffy's best friend and had been since before he rolled into sunnydale and first took out that sign they had to keep putting back up...because he kept running into it. a best friend who's now gone. yay and all for her being returned home to where she belongs, but not so much for the slayer who's left behind, once again. ]
'Course. Tried to detour a few of the potential to-be-bittens, but not sure if any of them took the hint or the blunt laying down of all the cards. People here tend to be a bit more daft than even those infuriating Hollywood folk who seem to think going into a dark alley with someone dressed like Disco Stu is a wonderful idea with no negative consequences of the blood-loss type to come.
[For now, it's enough to be able to let the BFF-grief be visible in all of her body language. If she can be honest in this small capacity, then it's one small slice of coping.]
There's...a guy. Haseo. He used to--[God, she can't believe it even though she knows it's true.] He used to feed her. He could be a great help, but I don't know how to tell if she's just pulling his strings or not. [Buffy pauses, wincing.] Can she even pull strings?
[Drusilla may have spent a great deal of time in Sunnydale at the same time as Buffy, but the Slayer's interactions with her were limited. It had always been Spike, or Angelus.]
[ His voice is flat when he says that; almost like he was disinterested. It's fairly hard for him to concentrate when he can still hear her, thanks to these little shifts that keep taunting him with echoes from home. And it could be that their little falling out is making him more tight-lipped than usual as well. ]
[Buffy will likely bump into Emil on his way up the stairs to House #7-- perhaps even literally, given that his eyes are on the ground most of the time. He's been visiting the house a lot lately no thanks to all of the crazy haunt-y type stuff going on, and after some pathetic attempts at comforting Vash, Cloud and Rosalie after their losses, he could really use some company himself.]
[Albert is standing on his porch, inspecting some of his moonflowers. After sheets of rain earlier in the day, a calmer evening is definitely in order.
But it really isn't all that calming, for him. He's tense and preoccupied, brow knitted together in concentration.]
[Predictably, she does swing by Albert's direction. Seeing him out on the porch is intriguing and--quite possibly--a most welcome distraction from everything else buzzing around her brain.]
Evening. [Buffy offers, boldly coming up the porch.]
[Albert frowns at first at the greeting, then relaxes minutely when he realizes it's Buffy. He drops his hands from the bloom he was looking at, turning to acknowledge her.]
This is the right address for the let's all be morose on a porch party, right? [She gives Albert's mood a pointed look, then gives in to leaning against the side of the house--proving that she is, indeed, also in a mood that would not be considered her best.]
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But then she hears her name and her rather rigid figure relaxes. Imperceptible to many, but most likely impossible to ignore for the vampire who knows her so well.]
Spike. [She turns to look behind her--to look at Spike. There were so many different opening lines available to her. One about Willow, one about how he had questioned her honour the day before. One about how sorry she was, but an apology was right out. She has done too much of that already.
So, Buffy lands on the other common thread:] I'm guessing you saw the big threat-fest with Drusilla?
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'Course. Tried to detour a few of the potential to-be-bittens, but not sure if any of them took the hint or the blunt laying down of all the cards. People here tend to be a bit more daft than even those infuriating Hollywood folk who seem to think going into a dark alley with someone dressed like Disco Stu is a wonderful idea with no negative consequences of the blood-loss type to come.
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There's...a guy. Haseo. He used to--[God, she can't believe it even though she knows it's true.] He used to feed her. He could be a great help, but I don't know how to tell if she's just pulling his strings or not. [Buffy pauses, wincing.] Can she even pull strings?
[Drusilla may have spent a great deal of time in Sunnydale at the same time as Buffy, but the Slayer's interactions with her were limited. It had always been Spike, or Angelus.]
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[ His voice is flat when he says that; almost like he was disinterested. It's fairly hard for him to concentrate when he can still hear her, thanks to these little shifts that keep taunting him with echoes from home. And it could be that their little falling out is making him more tight-lipped than usual as well. ]
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[Rather than flat, her voice is impassioned.]
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[Because she's taking the cot out of her room. The one she slept on while giving Willow the bed.]
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Hey, you. What's up?
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Oh, hi Buffy. I was just coming over to visit, if that's okay with you.
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But it really isn't all that calming, for him. He's tense and preoccupied, brow knitted together in concentration.]
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Evening. [Buffy offers, boldly coming up the porch.]
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Good evening, Buffy.
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What's up?
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[Well, she doesn't know if aliens can or not. But the question is related.]
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[ and she actually knows what ice cream is! thank you foods from various cultures served at intergalactic athletic competitions. ]
Why?
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