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Jun. 24th, 2007 12:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skygiantsWhat I Did Today:
1. Acquired a really pretty lined burgundy jacket for $14 on South Street.
2. Went for drinks to hear all the wacky and wild exploits of the friend who's been in Israel training as a paramedic for the past six months, including love quintangles, rumored midget lovin', and the phrase "he tried to turn my secret garden into a public park," which simultaneously makes me want to die from WRONG and want to use it every day.
3. Finished the rest of that
Previously on Buffy/Heroes:
--Peter said, "I'm, uh - I'm Superhero Guy?"--
--"Buffy used to be a cheerleader," Willow said, and craned her head around. "And she's really good at saving the world."--
--"I'm Willow," said Willow, and Peter smiled and said, "Peter. Petrelli."*
*this scene may or may not have actually previously happened
--"Last time I got told to save a cheerleader," Peter said, almost apologetically, "it turned out to be pretty important.
"Okay, well," Willow said, with a sigh, "I guess we'd better find Buffy. But if it turns out to be a waste of your time then don't blame me."
They stood for a moment in the gray nothingness.--
“Any minute now,” Willow said, eventually, and the boy next to her shot her a slightly irritated look.
“I’m trying. I’m still working out the whole teleporting thing – I don’t know how to get us to where we need to go. I don’t even know where we need to go.”
“Teleporting?” Willow laughed. “That’s crazy. Teleportation isn’t real.”
Peter’s expression turned from slightly irritated to irritated and disbelieving. “You were the one who was talking about being a witch. And fighting giant lizard congressmen.”
“Snake mayor,” Willow corrected, absently. “Only one. And that’s different. That’s magic. Teleportation is, like, fake science. Like aliens.”
“It’s not fake, okay? It’s real. It works.” ‘Peeved,’ Willow thought, was the best word for the way Peter looked now, as far as you could tell under his floppy hair. “I teleported us out of that – your dream, I guess - but I don’t, uh, I don’t know where to. If I try again, I think maybe I’ll just get us more lost.”
“Actually,” said a voice behind them, “you’re very nearly where you need to be.”
It was a non-Giles, non-Spike British voice, which meant only one thing. Willow whirled around and let out a squeak. “Ethan Rayne?”
“Who?” said Peter.
“Oh my god,” Willow exclaimed, ignoring Peter completely, “I haven’t seen you since that thing with Giles – are you all rehabilitaty now? Or are you still worshipping chaos? Because if you’re here to pull any more wacky costume stunts, or, or amulet things, or candy tricks, I’m a witch now and I bet I could totally take you.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Calm down, my love –”
“Oh,” said Peter, comprehension dawning. “Is he your ex?”
“Ew. EW!” Willow gave Peter a look even more horrified than the one he had earned for the Lindsay Lohan dreams. “He’s ancient! He’s – he’s Giles-age!”
“I would like to state for the record,” Ethan said, “first of all, that many people consider me to be a fine figure of a man and Giles could never compete with me in terms of sexual magnetism and, second and” – he sighed – “less important in the grand scheme of things, I’m here to help.”
“Help how?” demanded Peter, and Willow scowled at him, feeling rather sulky. She had been going to ask – well, that same exact question, but the fact remained that Peter had no Ethan-experience and was undoubtedly going to end up a ghost or a creepily old teenager if he didn’t let Willow take the lead.
“You’re in the universal dreamspace,” said Ethan. “From which you can access the dreams of all the world. She shouldn’t be here, though, pet.” He shot Willow a quelling look. “You’ve brought her out of her proper time – this is four years in her future.”
“The future?” said Peter, gawking. Willow blinked at him, and realized he was now wearing a long, tight-fitted coat, like the Matrix by way of Vera Wang.
“Her future,” Ethan repeated. The coat popped off Peter, and Willow felt fabric swirling around her own feet. Apparently this was what Peter thought people wore in the future. “Your own time. Send her back, and I’ll bring you to Buffy’s dreamspace so you can save her.”
Peter nodded and reached for Willow’s hand, but Willow pulled it aside indignantly. “No way am I letting you give this guy the guided tour of Buffy’s subconscious! How do I know you’re not going to do something chaos-y again?”
“And you could destroy the space-time continuum,” said Ethan, looking as if he was rapidly losing patience. “Time being a thing we haven’t got massive amounts of to begin with.”
“Tough cookies,” said Willow. “If you’re going in, I’m coming with you.”
“Fine!” Ethan threw his hands up in the air. “Follow me, the both of you. If you see things you’d rather not, you’ve only yourself to blame.” He turned and strode down a passage in the nothingness that Willow was sure hadn’t been there before. Willow scampered after him, and glanced behind to see Peter giving her an uneasy look before joining the little parade.
The nothingness seemed to shift and resolve into a darker area. Ethan pulled a piece of it aside like a curtain, and Willow promptly shrieked and covered her eyes.
“I did warn you,” said Ethan, sounding satisfied.
“Uh,” said Peter, and seemed to be incapable of saying anything else.
“Why Spike?” wailed Willow. “I could take naked Angel, I could even take naked Riley, I get way TMI from Buffy about him anyways, but why naked Spike? Why?”
“Um,” said Peter, and coughed, and then managed to say, “Uh. Uh – is this really appropriate? For, uh, for her to be seeing?”
Willow’s eyes were still scrunched shut, but she felt a faint breeze on her face and decided that Ethan was probably making a careless gesture. “Unavoidable, I’m afraid. Come along.”
“You took us this way on purpose,” said Willow, “and I think I hate you forever. Peter, tell me when it’s safe to look?”
“We’re going by a sort of – blue thing, with horns now,” said Peter, with a nervous edge in his voice. “You might not want to look until we’re past. I think you might be scared –”
“Oh,” said Willow, opening her eyes, “it’s D’Hoffryn! Hi!” She waved at the demon, who waved amiably back. “I wonder what he’s doing in Buffy’s subconscious.”
“Best not to ask, I think,” said Ethan. “Ah – here we are.” He pushed through another layer of blackness, and the others followed.
Buffy was standing in front of them.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “First you’re tossing out crazy symbolism about Denmark, and then you vanish and leave me stuck in Amy’s subconscious, and then -”
“I brought friends, pet,” Ethan said, and stepped aside.
“WIL!” Buffy threw herself on Willow, who staggered backwards, trying to balance her. “Wil, you’re here! - you’re not just a dream-Willow, are you? And –” She stepped back, staring at Willow’s coat. “Oh, Wil,” she said, suddenly reproachful. “You haven’t gone evil again, have you?’
Willow stared at Buffy. “I go evil?”
“I told you not to come,” Ethan muttered. “But would you listen? It could destroy the space-time continuum, I said, but of course nobody ever listens to –”
“Um,” said Peter, and Willow blinked – in all the fuss, she’d completely forgotten about him. “Hi. Uh – are you the cheerleader?”
“. . . I was,” Buffy said, giving Peter an odd look. “In high school. Years ago. Why?”
Peter looked more embarrassed than ever. “I think I’m supposed to save you.”
“Oh!” Buffy brightened. “Are you here to get me out of the dreamspace?”
“You don’t know each other?” said Ethan, staring from one to the other.
There was an awkward silence, as Peter and Buffy looked at each other blankly. “Uh,” Peter finally ventured. “No?”
“Then how on Earth are you planning on saving her?” demanded Ethan.
Peter looked vaguely panicked; Willow recognized the ‘didn’t study for the test’ look and felt a sudden sympathy. “I thought you were going to tell me!”
“She has to be kissed by someone who truly loves her! That’s the only way to break the spell so she can save the world! The child told me you’d be the one, but I thought –”
“Kissed?” said Buffy, making a face, and then paused and gave Peter a re-evaluating glance. “Well – I guess he’s not bad-looking –”
“Yeah,” Willow muttered, “compared to naked handcuffed Spike, he’s a prince in shining armor,” and Buffy flushed red and turned accusingly to Ethan.
“You showed them that?”
“Chaos-loving warlock,” Ethan reminded her cheerfully.
“I can never show my face in public again,” Buffy announced. “Forget about getting out of the dreamspace. I’m becoming a hermit.”
“- wait,” Peter said, suddenly, and everyone turned to look at him. “Wait, I think I know – Mr. Deveaux told me –” He paused, and then went on, with sudden resoluteness, “I think – I’m sorry, I don’t know you, but – I think maybe I can break the spell anyways.”
He took a step forward, and leaned towards Buffy –
Willow woke up, blinking, and felt the couch shift as Xander and Giles started to climb out of their own dreams. Fragments blipped through her mind for a moment before vanishing, leaving her with a vague impression of a girl with dreadlocks attacking her out of nowhere and a table full of cheese.
Five or six years later, when Buffy stopped a madman who could command the insect armies and in the process saved the life of a boy with floppy-hair, Willow wondered why he looked so familiar. At the time, though, she had other things on her mind – such as helping Buffy save the world – and didn’t give it much thought until two days later, when she and Buffy and Dawn were all sitting around unwinding by watching Lindsay Lohan in Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen on the television.
1. Acquired a really pretty lined burgundy jacket for $14 on South Street.
2. Went for drinks to hear all the wacky and wild exploits of the friend who's been in Israel training as a paramedic for the past six months, including love quintangles, rumored midget lovin', and the phrase "he tried to turn my secret garden into a public park," which simultaneously makes me want to die from WRONG and want to use it every day.
3. Finished the rest of that
Previously on Buffy/Heroes:
--Peter said, "I'm, uh - I'm Superhero Guy?"--
--"Buffy used to be a cheerleader," Willow said, and craned her head around. "And she's really good at saving the world."--
--"I'm Willow," said Willow, and Peter smiled and said, "Peter. Petrelli."*
*this scene may or may not have actually previously happened
--"Last time I got told to save a cheerleader," Peter said, almost apologetically, "it turned out to be pretty important.
"Okay, well," Willow said, with a sigh, "I guess we'd better find Buffy. But if it turns out to be a waste of your time then don't blame me."
They stood for a moment in the gray nothingness.--
“Any minute now,” Willow said, eventually, and the boy next to her shot her a slightly irritated look.
“I’m trying. I’m still working out the whole teleporting thing – I don’t know how to get us to where we need to go. I don’t even know where we need to go.”
“Teleporting?” Willow laughed. “That’s crazy. Teleportation isn’t real.”
Peter’s expression turned from slightly irritated to irritated and disbelieving. “You were the one who was talking about being a witch. And fighting giant lizard congressmen.”
“Snake mayor,” Willow corrected, absently. “Only one. And that’s different. That’s magic. Teleportation is, like, fake science. Like aliens.”
“It’s not fake, okay? It’s real. It works.” ‘Peeved,’ Willow thought, was the best word for the way Peter looked now, as far as you could tell under his floppy hair. “I teleported us out of that – your dream, I guess - but I don’t, uh, I don’t know where to. If I try again, I think maybe I’ll just get us more lost.”
“Actually,” said a voice behind them, “you’re very nearly where you need to be.”
It was a non-Giles, non-Spike British voice, which meant only one thing. Willow whirled around and let out a squeak. “Ethan Rayne?”
“Who?” said Peter.
“Oh my god,” Willow exclaimed, ignoring Peter completely, “I haven’t seen you since that thing with Giles – are you all rehabilitaty now? Or are you still worshipping chaos? Because if you’re here to pull any more wacky costume stunts, or, or amulet things, or candy tricks, I’m a witch now and I bet I could totally take you.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Calm down, my love –”
“Oh,” said Peter, comprehension dawning. “Is he your ex?”
“Ew. EW!” Willow gave Peter a look even more horrified than the one he had earned for the Lindsay Lohan dreams. “He’s ancient! He’s – he’s Giles-age!”
“I would like to state for the record,” Ethan said, “first of all, that many people consider me to be a fine figure of a man and Giles could never compete with me in terms of sexual magnetism and, second and” – he sighed – “less important in the grand scheme of things, I’m here to help.”
“Help how?” demanded Peter, and Willow scowled at him, feeling rather sulky. She had been going to ask – well, that same exact question, but the fact remained that Peter had no Ethan-experience and was undoubtedly going to end up a ghost or a creepily old teenager if he didn’t let Willow take the lead.
“You’re in the universal dreamspace,” said Ethan. “From which you can access the dreams of all the world. She shouldn’t be here, though, pet.” He shot Willow a quelling look. “You’ve brought her out of her proper time – this is four years in her future.”
“The future?” said Peter, gawking. Willow blinked at him, and realized he was now wearing a long, tight-fitted coat, like the Matrix by way of Vera Wang.
“Her future,” Ethan repeated. The coat popped off Peter, and Willow felt fabric swirling around her own feet. Apparently this was what Peter thought people wore in the future. “Your own time. Send her back, and I’ll bring you to Buffy’s dreamspace so you can save her.”
Peter nodded and reached for Willow’s hand, but Willow pulled it aside indignantly. “No way am I letting you give this guy the guided tour of Buffy’s subconscious! How do I know you’re not going to do something chaos-y again?”
“And you could destroy the space-time continuum,” said Ethan, looking as if he was rapidly losing patience. “Time being a thing we haven’t got massive amounts of to begin with.”
“Tough cookies,” said Willow. “If you’re going in, I’m coming with you.”
“Fine!” Ethan threw his hands up in the air. “Follow me, the both of you. If you see things you’d rather not, you’ve only yourself to blame.” He turned and strode down a passage in the nothingness that Willow was sure hadn’t been there before. Willow scampered after him, and glanced behind to see Peter giving her an uneasy look before joining the little parade.
The nothingness seemed to shift and resolve into a darker area. Ethan pulled a piece of it aside like a curtain, and Willow promptly shrieked and covered her eyes.
“I did warn you,” said Ethan, sounding satisfied.
“Uh,” said Peter, and seemed to be incapable of saying anything else.
“Why Spike?” wailed Willow. “I could take naked Angel, I could even take naked Riley, I get way TMI from Buffy about him anyways, but why naked Spike? Why?”
“Um,” said Peter, and coughed, and then managed to say, “Uh. Uh – is this really appropriate? For, uh, for her to be seeing?”
Willow’s eyes were still scrunched shut, but she felt a faint breeze on her face and decided that Ethan was probably making a careless gesture. “Unavoidable, I’m afraid. Come along.”
“You took us this way on purpose,” said Willow, “and I think I hate you forever. Peter, tell me when it’s safe to look?”
“We’re going by a sort of – blue thing, with horns now,” said Peter, with a nervous edge in his voice. “You might not want to look until we’re past. I think you might be scared –”
“Oh,” said Willow, opening her eyes, “it’s D’Hoffryn! Hi!” She waved at the demon, who waved amiably back. “I wonder what he’s doing in Buffy’s subconscious.”
“Best not to ask, I think,” said Ethan. “Ah – here we are.” He pushed through another layer of blackness, and the others followed.
Buffy was standing in front of them.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “First you’re tossing out crazy symbolism about Denmark, and then you vanish and leave me stuck in Amy’s subconscious, and then -”
“I brought friends, pet,” Ethan said, and stepped aside.
“WIL!” Buffy threw herself on Willow, who staggered backwards, trying to balance her. “Wil, you’re here! - you’re not just a dream-Willow, are you? And –” She stepped back, staring at Willow’s coat. “Oh, Wil,” she said, suddenly reproachful. “You haven’t gone evil again, have you?’
Willow stared at Buffy. “I go evil?”
“I told you not to come,” Ethan muttered. “But would you listen? It could destroy the space-time continuum, I said, but of course nobody ever listens to –”
“Um,” said Peter, and Willow blinked – in all the fuss, she’d completely forgotten about him. “Hi. Uh – are you the cheerleader?”
“. . . I was,” Buffy said, giving Peter an odd look. “In high school. Years ago. Why?”
Peter looked more embarrassed than ever. “I think I’m supposed to save you.”
“Oh!” Buffy brightened. “Are you here to get me out of the dreamspace?”
“You don’t know each other?” said Ethan, staring from one to the other.
There was an awkward silence, as Peter and Buffy looked at each other blankly. “Uh,” Peter finally ventured. “No?”
“Then how on Earth are you planning on saving her?” demanded Ethan.
Peter looked vaguely panicked; Willow recognized the ‘didn’t study for the test’ look and felt a sudden sympathy. “I thought you were going to tell me!”
“She has to be kissed by someone who truly loves her! That’s the only way to break the spell so she can save the world! The child told me you’d be the one, but I thought –”
“Kissed?” said Buffy, making a face, and then paused and gave Peter a re-evaluating glance. “Well – I guess he’s not bad-looking –”
“Yeah,” Willow muttered, “compared to naked handcuffed Spike, he’s a prince in shining armor,” and Buffy flushed red and turned accusingly to Ethan.
“You showed them that?”
“Chaos-loving warlock,” Ethan reminded her cheerfully.
“I can never show my face in public again,” Buffy announced. “Forget about getting out of the dreamspace. I’m becoming a hermit.”
“- wait,” Peter said, suddenly, and everyone turned to look at him. “Wait, I think I know – Mr. Deveaux told me –” He paused, and then went on, with sudden resoluteness, “I think – I’m sorry, I don’t know you, but – I think maybe I can break the spell anyways.”
He took a step forward, and leaned towards Buffy –
Willow woke up, blinking, and felt the couch shift as Xander and Giles started to climb out of their own dreams. Fragments blipped through her mind for a moment before vanishing, leaving her with a vague impression of a girl with dreadlocks attacking her out of nowhere and a table full of cheese.
Five or six years later, when Buffy stopped a madman who could command the insect armies and in the process saved the life of a boy with floppy-hair, Willow wondered why he looked so familiar. At the time, though, she had other things on her mind – such as helping Buffy save the world – and didn’t give it much thought until two days later, when she and Buffy and Dawn were all sitting around unwinding by watching Lindsay Lohan in Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen on the television.
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no subject
Date: 2007-06-24 08:24 am (UTC)*flails merrily some more*
no subject
Date: 2007-06-25 07:11 pm (UTC)*firm and decisive nod*