Rating: PG...as usual
Disclaimer: If I owned Angel and Buffy, I'd be writing for them...and believe me, if I was, things would be WAAAYY different...
Author's note: Thanks for the feedback! It makes my day, so feel free to send more along! Also, once again, sorry for the awful load of formatting crap that had to pass for chapter 2. I just can't figure out what went wrong...
Also, I'm real sorry about how a new paragraph doesn't start after the quotations from each character. Once, again, my evil computer hates me.
Willow slammed her book shut. "Waste of time," she declared, plopping it down on the 'useless' pile. "Who wants to read a book about the magical properties of goats, anyway?"
"Aside from ritual sacrifices," Giles informed her, "they have no magical purpose."
"Exactly!" Willow cried. "So why would someone write a book about it?"
"I feel your pain," Cordelia said, turning and simultaneously tearing the page of a 14th Century book. Giles winced. "Oh, chill, Giles. It's called Scotch Tape." She turned her attention back to Willow. "Yeah, like this book, it talks about folds and wrinkles and age. Ugh, it's depressing me. It makes me wanna buy some makeup really bad."
Willow had tuned out Cordelia, but Giles was not so lucky as to be immune to Cordelia's sometimes mindless chatter. "Really, Cordelia," he said politely, but Queen C cut him off.
"Yeah, like this one passage right here. Listen to this: 'And the fabric of reality shall crumple and fold, and wrinkles shall become bridges." She looked up scornfully. "Huh, bridges to what, the Avon factory?"
Giles and Willow were both staring at her. She looked back, then resumed her babbling. "Or maybe the bridges are to a plastic surgery clinic. Gosh, the only thing more depressing than wrinkles is the old lady smell."
"Cordelia," Giles said patiently, "that book is very important."
"No kidding, genius. It's old. Old things are important." She fixed her with a look of scrutiny and then added, "Most of the time."
"No," Willow explained. "What Giles means to say is that that book holds the key to finding Buffy."
"Well, excuse me," Cordelia said haughtily, handing the book over to Giles, who was clearly still irritated by the reference to his age. "I'm sorry if I'm just a mere mortal and not a witch or Watcher or whatever."
Willow suddenly realized something. "That's why the book burned me!"
"Hmmm?" Cordelia asked absently, producing a nail file from her purse and putting it to work.
"It's a typical magical reaction to powerful or dark magic," Willow explained. "Oh, I'm so stupid!"
"Uhh, still lost here," Cordelia said, clearly interested. Willow could tell because the steady whir of the nail file was gone and Cordy sat, focused on Willow. The girl shrank inwardly a bit at the attention.
"I'm a practicing Wicca, of course I could feel the magic. Giles is a Watcher, and he's probably got a little magic left in him from his days as Ripper." Giles hated that term. "And Cordy, well...like you said, the only magic you've ever experienced is that of the Disney kind."
Cordelia sniffed. "Let's keep it that way."
Giles frowned. "Interesting as that was, I don't see how it's helping us find Buffy."
Willow jumped up. "Right! Let's stay on task!" She practically dove into the pile of books. "Research Girl rides again."
***
"So, where are you from?" Cassie asked.
"I'm not quite sure at the moment," Buffy told her. "Here, I think. But then again, everything is weird. And new. In an old kind of way." She glanced at Cassie. "Now you think I'm crazy."
"No," Cassie said, "I don't." The look on her face clearly said otherwise.
"Listen," Buffy said, "I know I sound like a nut, but hear me out. I was supposed to study in the library today with Willow—" this wasn't entirely true, but she wasn't about to let her Slayer secret spill to a complete stranger—"and I went in and I must've blacked out and this must be a crazy dream or something."
Cassie leaned forward and pinched her. Hard. Buffy reacted accordingly.
"Well, you're obviously awake," Cassie said dryly, giving her an apprehensive look. "So we—"
She didn't have time to finish her sentence before they were attacked.
Disclaimer: If I owned Angel and Buffy, I'd be writing for them...and believe me, if I was, things would be WAAAYY different...
Author's note: Thanks for the feedback! It makes my day, so feel free to send more along! Also, once again, sorry for the awful load of formatting crap that had to pass for chapter 2. I just can't figure out what went wrong...
Also, I'm real sorry about how a new paragraph doesn't start after the quotations from each character. Once, again, my evil computer hates me.
Willow slammed her book shut. "Waste of time," she declared, plopping it down on the 'useless' pile. "Who wants to read a book about the magical properties of goats, anyway?"
"Aside from ritual sacrifices," Giles informed her, "they have no magical purpose."
"Exactly!" Willow cried. "So why would someone write a book about it?"
"I feel your pain," Cordelia said, turning and simultaneously tearing the page of a 14th Century book. Giles winced. "Oh, chill, Giles. It's called Scotch Tape." She turned her attention back to Willow. "Yeah, like this book, it talks about folds and wrinkles and age. Ugh, it's depressing me. It makes me wanna buy some makeup really bad."
Willow had tuned out Cordelia, but Giles was not so lucky as to be immune to Cordelia's sometimes mindless chatter. "Really, Cordelia," he said politely, but Queen C cut him off.
"Yeah, like this one passage right here. Listen to this: 'And the fabric of reality shall crumple and fold, and wrinkles shall become bridges." She looked up scornfully. "Huh, bridges to what, the Avon factory?"
Giles and Willow were both staring at her. She looked back, then resumed her babbling. "Or maybe the bridges are to a plastic surgery clinic. Gosh, the only thing more depressing than wrinkles is the old lady smell."
"Cordelia," Giles said patiently, "that book is very important."
"No kidding, genius. It's old. Old things are important." She fixed her with a look of scrutiny and then added, "Most of the time."
"No," Willow explained. "What Giles means to say is that that book holds the key to finding Buffy."
"Well, excuse me," Cordelia said haughtily, handing the book over to Giles, who was clearly still irritated by the reference to his age. "I'm sorry if I'm just a mere mortal and not a witch or Watcher or whatever."
Willow suddenly realized something. "That's why the book burned me!"
"Hmmm?" Cordelia asked absently, producing a nail file from her purse and putting it to work.
"It's a typical magical reaction to powerful or dark magic," Willow explained. "Oh, I'm so stupid!"
"Uhh, still lost here," Cordelia said, clearly interested. Willow could tell because the steady whir of the nail file was gone and Cordy sat, focused on Willow. The girl shrank inwardly a bit at the attention.
"I'm a practicing Wicca, of course I could feel the magic. Giles is a Watcher, and he's probably got a little magic left in him from his days as Ripper." Giles hated that term. "And Cordy, well...like you said, the only magic you've ever experienced is that of the Disney kind."
Cordelia sniffed. "Let's keep it that way."
Giles frowned. "Interesting as that was, I don't see how it's helping us find Buffy."
Willow jumped up. "Right! Let's stay on task!" She practically dove into the pile of books. "Research Girl rides again."
***
"So, where are you from?" Cassie asked.
"I'm not quite sure at the moment," Buffy told her. "Here, I think. But then again, everything is weird. And new. In an old kind of way." She glanced at Cassie. "Now you think I'm crazy."
"No," Cassie said, "I don't." The look on her face clearly said otherwise.
"Listen," Buffy said, "I know I sound like a nut, but hear me out. I was supposed to study in the library today with Willow—" this wasn't entirely true, but she wasn't about to let her Slayer secret spill to a complete stranger—"and I went in and I must've blacked out and this must be a crazy dream or something."
Cassie leaned forward and pinched her. Hard. Buffy reacted accordingly.
"Well, you're obviously awake," Cassie said dryly, giving her an apprehensive look. "So we—"
She didn't have time to finish her sentence before they were attacked.
