He would have been perfectly happy just nursing his beer, and going back to the hotel. It had become clear to him when he drove into the city that he wasn't going to find any of his dreams here. But fate had a way of screwing things up. He just had to ask the guy sitting next to him an inane question of baseball.
Now the guy was sitting next to him in the Volvo heading straight out of town. Only he wasn't a nobody, like Xander. Toby Ziegler was the author of "The whole fucking world was against us," the book Mr and Mrs Rosenberg had gotten him for Christmas just before they all left Sunnydale.
The one book Xander actually had opened voluntarily. How could he not, with a title like that?
And they had begun to discuss stuff. The book, other books, politics, carpentry, women.
He discovered that Toby was a bit like Giles.
He didn't know how he had gone from that line of thought to offering Toby a ride along.
But here they were – the New Jersey Turnpike.
Toby had insisted on showing him Liberty Bell in Philadelphia. That had led to a train of thought that he should hook Toby up with Willow, had Willow been older. When he mentioned it to Toby he had asked about Willow's hair color.
Upon hearing that Willow had red hair, Toby told him of his ex-wife, his ex-assistant, and his desire to never ever be involved with another redhead.
After the stop in Philadelphia Toby had a talk at Princeton about writing in politics.
Xander, who had heard the whole thing while driving, had found a computer to e-mail Willow.
"This is hell," Toby exclaimed and began to search for the rubber balls that Xander had confiscated ages ago when Toby first had begun to bounce them on the window.
"No," Xander replied. "This is New Jersey.
"The difference would be?
"In hell it feels like you're never getting out?
"The difference would be?
"I'm not sure, but I think that you probably can't see New York from Hell.
"I can't see New York from here either.
"I generally take a look out of the windows, instead of down at the floor when I want to see something. And no, the stupid balls aren't on the floor.