Not Static
It had always been their dream. Or at least she thought it had.
In any case, they'd triumphed over the skeptical looks and Willow's meant-to-be-helpful-but-could-be-discouraging warnings about the paperless office; which had been falsely predicted more than once before, as Xander had pointed out.
("It's an abomination in the eye of ... uh ... the beholder of those trees who gave up their lives so we can enjoy paper in the workplace!")
He was the only one who thought it was a great idea.
Even Angel had listened to their plan with a cautious frown. But, even if he was older and more experienced and she loved him so much there were times she could hardly breathe, he didn't understand things sometimes.
Nevertheless, when it became obvious that they were really going for it and would not be put off in any way, everyone wished them luck and her mom gave her some good advice to take with them:
"Remember, with an 'e' – like in 'envelope'."
Which was really useful, since it was easy to get them mixed up.
They all ended up coming with them anyway, or else they just visited sometimes. Again, she wasn't sure. But, she'd seen Cordelia hanging around, looking bored in a secretly-quite-interested way, before following Xander to where he stood outside a nearby closet, trying to get her attention.
And Willow gazing at Oz. Looking at his ... hands? No, she so wasn't into him, was she? Jeez. A gentle nudge was needed there, for sure. Except then Willow began eyeing a different closet with a kind of semi-confused, oblivious look on her face.
And her mom, telling her she was so proud and saying how glad she was that she wouldn't have to wash those mysterious bloodstains out of her clothes anymore.
And Ms Calendar, picking up a paperweight and studying it intently, like she was counting all the little fake snowflakes inside the shiny glass globe. Except there weren't any snowflakes.
They all came ... apart from Angel.
"Giles, have the binder clips arrived yet? The tigers need them."
"They'll just have to bloody well wait like everyone else." He tried to look flustered, but she could tell he loved being busy like this. And he also liked not having to worry about her dying, which had been nice to hear him say.
She smiled up at the man in the large sunglasses and the cape and the flared pants with the huge belt that had dozens of sparkling, colored stones on it that made her blink. He was humming that tune with the different parts, the bit where it got all dramatic. Willow would probably know.
"We have two thousand and one different kinds of glue sticks," she told him.
"They gonna keep things together until then?"
Buffy nodded. "Up to and including May that year ... mostly."
His lip curled in a cute-but-kind-of-arrogant half-grin. "There any more like you at home?" He handed her a key. "You'll love it," he said, then took off his glasses and winked at her.
She grimaced back. He was nice-looking and everything, but way too old.
For a guy who wasn't dead, that is.
Not where they were anyway.
