A/N: Updating, because last chapter was dire. Have fun with this one. I
did.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"This is so embarrassing," Izzy muttered, swinging the axe miserably over her shoulder, and looking down at the shreds of her top. "First time Lin doesn't come, and he's right. Great."
She unlocked the front door, setting the axe down on the top step, and hefted it up again once inside. She hung it up in the weapons cabinet, and flopped onto the couch, flicking on the lights. The phone rang, and she stretched out a hand to pick it up.
"Hi. How was the party?" Lin asked immediately. She sighed, and shoved a cushion behind her head.
"He was a demon. I don't want to talk about it."
"Metaphorically speaking, or are we talking demon with the green blood, and icky slime?" he queried. She sighed again.
"The latter. Can we please get off the subject?"
There was a slow dawning of comprehension. "I was right," he exclaimed. Izzy rolled her eyes.
"Yup."
"No, I mean, I was right. I said he was a demon. And he was! This is amazing news," he repeated, ecstatic.
"I'm glad you find the fact I had to slay my date so wonderful," she retorted.
"Are you coming over?" Lin asked. She glanced at the large clock on the wall above the fireplace, and considered it.
"Let me grab my PJ's."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Climbing up the tree, Izzy often wondered why the ex-Sunnydale residents who were so open minded about demons, vampires and spooks that went bump in the night, remained stubbornly convinced that placing their children's rooms next to a tree would not in the slightest allow them to sneak out and in without their comprehension.
"Hey," Lin greeted. Her bag hit him full in the chest, and he doubled up, groaning. Izzy hooked a leg over the windowsill.
"Stop complaining," she addressed him, rolling her eyes. He looked up, a puppy dog expression crossing his face.
"But it hurts," he answered reasonably.
"Yeah, so does life," she muttered. "Get used to it." His eyebrows shot up, as he stood up.
"Somebody's in a bad mood," he commented. She turned to look at him, and snorted, covering her grin with her hand.
"What?" he demanded. She gestured to his nightwear.
"Nothing, nothing. Glad to see you believe in preserving the environment by recycling pyjamas," she answered. "Although, actually, now I come to think of it, you in Batman pyjamas might actually be hazardous enough to-"
"Shut up," he said, blushing fiercely. "I had no pyjamas left."
She pulled out her own pyjamas from her bag, and waited pointedly. Lin turned his back, and she began to strip off, yanking the grey top over her head.
"So, do you have it?" she asked, tying the drawstring on her pyjama bottoms. He gave her an innocent look.
"Have what?"
"Oh come on. The ultimate men-are-all-jerks movie. Played every time I re- discover the universal truth. Started the long tradition way back in fifth grade when Devin Jacobs stood me up at the winter dance. Please tell me you have the movie," she said, folding her arms across her chest. Lin sighed.
"Yes. I have it. Satisfied?" he asked, producing a video-cassette. She squealed, and threw her arms around his neck.
"Popcorn?" she asked hopefully, clutching the cassette. Lin eyed her cautiously.
"Sometimes I wonder whether you're still in fifth grade," he said doubtfully. She punched his arm.
"I killed my boyfriend," she said, by way of argument.
"Well, actually, Iz, it was one date. And it wasn't much of one," he tried to fight back. Her eyes widened.
"Are you actually dissing the killing-ness of my date? It was a traumatic experience! I need popcorn to assuage my deepest feelings." Lin sighed. In these scenarios, it was easier just to give in.
"I'll get the popcorn."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"You know, I'm actually not sure if I want to contribute to you misaligning my sex," he said thoughtfully, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
"Shh, watch," she ordered, poking him in the arm. She snuggled contentedly under his comforter, surreptitiously sneaking more of it away from him. He tugged it back, indignantly.
"What's the deal with this movie, anyway? How is it a trashing-men must?" he asked. She considered, her head titled on one side, messy braids falling over her shoulders.
"It's a good movie. And plus, come-uppance. Always a good thing. How is Practical Magic not a movie about trashing guys? They kill someone, then bury him!" she demanded.
"But it has a happy ending," he protested.
"So? That makes the movie good. It's still about trashing guys," she said, satisfied she'd had won the argument.
"Whatever," he dismissed her. The video played on in companionable silence, until he noticed Izzy was fast asleep, and drooling on his shoulder. Smiling a little, he shifted her over, so she lay back against the pillow, and covered her with the bedspread. He lay back, and whispered,
"Goodnight, Iz."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ (Lin)
Friday, twenty first of April
Okay, I was right. Finally. I've always stated that the demon magnet part of this wacky band of people got passed on to Izzy, ever since when we were five, she brought home a Kirosh demon from the sewer, and asked to keep it as a pet.
But I don't like seeing her get all strung up over a guy, only to have to hit him with sharp objects. Lexi enjoys that, Izzy doesn't. So it's a toss up. Do I enjoy being right, or feel sorry for Izzy, (who'll milk it anyway?)
I hate decisions.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
A/N: Next chapter, more on Willow's escapades in L.A, and the plot bunnies multiply.
REVIEW!!
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"This is so embarrassing," Izzy muttered, swinging the axe miserably over her shoulder, and looking down at the shreds of her top. "First time Lin doesn't come, and he's right. Great."
She unlocked the front door, setting the axe down on the top step, and hefted it up again once inside. She hung it up in the weapons cabinet, and flopped onto the couch, flicking on the lights. The phone rang, and she stretched out a hand to pick it up.
"Hi. How was the party?" Lin asked immediately. She sighed, and shoved a cushion behind her head.
"He was a demon. I don't want to talk about it."
"Metaphorically speaking, or are we talking demon with the green blood, and icky slime?" he queried. She sighed again.
"The latter. Can we please get off the subject?"
There was a slow dawning of comprehension. "I was right," he exclaimed. Izzy rolled her eyes.
"Yup."
"No, I mean, I was right. I said he was a demon. And he was! This is amazing news," he repeated, ecstatic.
"I'm glad you find the fact I had to slay my date so wonderful," she retorted.
"Are you coming over?" Lin asked. She glanced at the large clock on the wall above the fireplace, and considered it.
"Let me grab my PJ's."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Climbing up the tree, Izzy often wondered why the ex-Sunnydale residents who were so open minded about demons, vampires and spooks that went bump in the night, remained stubbornly convinced that placing their children's rooms next to a tree would not in the slightest allow them to sneak out and in without their comprehension.
"Hey," Lin greeted. Her bag hit him full in the chest, and he doubled up, groaning. Izzy hooked a leg over the windowsill.
"Stop complaining," she addressed him, rolling her eyes. He looked up, a puppy dog expression crossing his face.
"But it hurts," he answered reasonably.
"Yeah, so does life," she muttered. "Get used to it." His eyebrows shot up, as he stood up.
"Somebody's in a bad mood," he commented. She turned to look at him, and snorted, covering her grin with her hand.
"What?" he demanded. She gestured to his nightwear.
"Nothing, nothing. Glad to see you believe in preserving the environment by recycling pyjamas," she answered. "Although, actually, now I come to think of it, you in Batman pyjamas might actually be hazardous enough to-"
"Shut up," he said, blushing fiercely. "I had no pyjamas left."
She pulled out her own pyjamas from her bag, and waited pointedly. Lin turned his back, and she began to strip off, yanking the grey top over her head.
"So, do you have it?" she asked, tying the drawstring on her pyjama bottoms. He gave her an innocent look.
"Have what?"
"Oh come on. The ultimate men-are-all-jerks movie. Played every time I re- discover the universal truth. Started the long tradition way back in fifth grade when Devin Jacobs stood me up at the winter dance. Please tell me you have the movie," she said, folding her arms across her chest. Lin sighed.
"Yes. I have it. Satisfied?" he asked, producing a video-cassette. She squealed, and threw her arms around his neck.
"Popcorn?" she asked hopefully, clutching the cassette. Lin eyed her cautiously.
"Sometimes I wonder whether you're still in fifth grade," he said doubtfully. She punched his arm.
"I killed my boyfriend," she said, by way of argument.
"Well, actually, Iz, it was one date. And it wasn't much of one," he tried to fight back. Her eyes widened.
"Are you actually dissing the killing-ness of my date? It was a traumatic experience! I need popcorn to assuage my deepest feelings." Lin sighed. In these scenarios, it was easier just to give in.
"I'll get the popcorn."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"You know, I'm actually not sure if I want to contribute to you misaligning my sex," he said thoughtfully, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
"Shh, watch," she ordered, poking him in the arm. She snuggled contentedly under his comforter, surreptitiously sneaking more of it away from him. He tugged it back, indignantly.
"What's the deal with this movie, anyway? How is it a trashing-men must?" he asked. She considered, her head titled on one side, messy braids falling over her shoulders.
"It's a good movie. And plus, come-uppance. Always a good thing. How is Practical Magic not a movie about trashing guys? They kill someone, then bury him!" she demanded.
"But it has a happy ending," he protested.
"So? That makes the movie good. It's still about trashing guys," she said, satisfied she'd had won the argument.
"Whatever," he dismissed her. The video played on in companionable silence, until he noticed Izzy was fast asleep, and drooling on his shoulder. Smiling a little, he shifted her over, so she lay back against the pillow, and covered her with the bedspread. He lay back, and whispered,
"Goodnight, Iz."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ (Lin)
Friday, twenty first of April
Okay, I was right. Finally. I've always stated that the demon magnet part of this wacky band of people got passed on to Izzy, ever since when we were five, she brought home a Kirosh demon from the sewer, and asked to keep it as a pet.
But I don't like seeing her get all strung up over a guy, only to have to hit him with sharp objects. Lexi enjoys that, Izzy doesn't. So it's a toss up. Do I enjoy being right, or feel sorry for Izzy, (who'll milk it anyway?)
I hate decisions.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
A/N: Next chapter, more on Willow's escapades in L.A, and the plot bunnies multiply.
REVIEW!!