Disclaimer: I lay no claim to the characters within; I only own the plot. I will put the toys back in the toy box when I'm done…though I might keep Andrew for myself.
Author's note: I'm so, so sorry this took so long. I guess with everything else in life, this one got lost in the shuffle. Here's the next chapter, it's shorter than usual, but the next few chapters should be longer.
This is dedicated to Steph; if it weren't for her, this update might not have happened.
Snail Mail—Chapter 3
Andrew gulped nervously as Giles paced in front of the assembled group, the phone bill in his hand. He had a pretty good idea what had caused the former librarian to call a house meeting, and he was scared out of his wits.
"Can any of you tell me why there is an unauthorized phone call the United Kingdom?" Giles asked, brandishing the phone bill about. "I know exactly which numbers I called, so don't you dare tell me I'm blowing this out of proportion. I don't even know an 'H. Granger'."
With that, Andrew sunk lower in the chair he was sitting in. However, the problem with trying to hide is that you are usually found out quicker; almost everyone knows that. In this case, it was Faith that ratted Andrew out.
"Hey G-man, it looks like the dweeb has somethin' to hide," she said. Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed exasperatedly.
"Why must you call me that infernal nickname?" he asked, taking off his glasses and cleaning them.
"'Cuz we like annoying you, that's why," Faith replied with a shrug, as if it were obvious. "Besides, the dweeb is hiding somethin'; shouldn't that be your priority?"
"Andrew, do you know something about this?" asked Giles. Everyone in the room looked at the small, fidgety blond man and it was only a matter of moments before he cracked.
"Alright, fine, it was me!" exclaimed Andrew. "I made the phone call so that I could talk to my pen pal because letter writing takes too long. I didn't know it was going to cost so much; if I did, I would have…"
"Calm down, Andrew!" said Giles firmly, sighing in exasperation. "I'm not angry with you; I just wish you'd give me more notice when you make transatlantic phone calls."
"Umm…okay, I will then, Mr. Giles," Andrew promised. He chewed on his lip nervously, wondering if he should go through with his request. Making up his mind, in one breath he added. "Can I phone her back, then? It's just that it's been a while since I've talked to her and I promised that I'd phone back within a couple of days."
"I'm just curious, but how much do you know about this girl?" asked Giles. "How long have you known her?"
"Well, we've been pen pals since the age of nine," Andrew replied. "Her name is Hermione Granger, she lives in England and she's twenty four, like me. She is a Star Trek and Lord of the Rings fan, and before she met me she wouldn't touch anything related to Star Wars or Babylon Five with a ten foot pole whilst wearing a radiation suit. I think I might be cracking her resolve, though; it's quite exciting."
"And does she know anything about the abnormalities of the Hellmouth?" asked Giles.
"I may have let some stuff slip," Andrew replied, ducking his head. Everyone glared at him with varying degrees of severity. "What? She thinks I'm a little off anyway. Overactive imagination and everything. She says she'd be friends with me even without the outlandish stories, but I think she likes the cloth of fantasy I weave with every letter."
"How outlandish are we talking here?" asked Buffy, speaking up for the first time.
"I might have mentioned something about the flying monkeys," Andrew replied, still sheepish. "And Tucker's hellhounds, but that's it, I swear! No vampires, no slayage and no evil Andrew. In her eyes, I am as innocent as the young Anakin."
"And the fact that Anakin becomes Darth Vader is lost on her how…?" asked Xander.
"I told you, she doesn't know anything about Star Wars," Andrew replied. "She says it's 'campy' and 'cheesy'."
"Sacrilege! How can you associate with such a person?" exclaimed Xander, clutching a hand over his heart and pretending to collapse. Willow flicked him on the side of the head, causing him to sit up again, rubbing his head. "Ow, Wills, that hurt."
"Then quit being an overdramatic drama queen," Willow retorted, her eyes sparkling with laughter. The banter was lightening the mood of the room, and Andrew relaxed as the discussion was taken away from him.
"That's drama king to you," Xander shot back, puffing out his chest importantly. "And don't you forget it, missy." Willow poked him in the ribs, causing him to deflate and flop back on to the couch.
"Ummm, guys?" asked Andrew. Everyone stopped goofing around and set their attention to Andrew, which made him shift nervously in his seat. "Would it be alright if I phoned Hermione? I promise to pay back the phone bill and stuff; I just want to hear that beautiful voice of hers."
"Of course, of course," Giles said, waving his hand in dismissal. Andrew got up and dashed down the stairs to his and Xander's room without another word, causing everyone to stare at the spot that had moments before held Andrew.
"Huh, I didn't know he could move that fast," remarked Faith after a minute.
"He's got it bad," Buffy agreed, causing everyone to crack up.
OoOoOoOo
Hermione had just settled down on her sofa for a movie night with Ron and Harry when the phone rang. She set the bowl of popcorn aside and made a mad dash to the phone in an attempt to get to it before Harry did. However, she was too late.
"Pool hall," Harry greeted, throwing a mischievous grin over his shoulder at Hermione. She snatched the phone away from her dark haired best friend, glaring at him all the while.
"What is it with your obsession with my phone?" she asked, placing her hand over the mouthpiece.
"I never got to answer the phone at the Dursley's, so this is my chance to catch up," Harry replied with a shrug. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him as he left the room before taking up the phone.
"Sorry about that," she apologized. "Granger residence, Hermione speaking."
"Hi Hermione," said the familiar voice at the other end of the line. Hermione's heart leapt when she heard that voice. "It's me, Andrew. I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."
"No, no you haven't," Hermione replied, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she tried to find the bags of crisps she had bought earlier. "Chaos is routine around here. Just a movie night with my boys, but I can still talk on the phone."
"Ah," said Andrew, sounding vaguely like Yoda. "So, who was that? Harry or Ron?"
"That would have been the more insane of the two. Harry," she clarified, placing the junk food on the table before reclaiming her spot on the couch.
"Who's she talking to?" asked Ron in a stage whisper.
"I don't know, why don't you ask her?" Harry whispered back.
"I'm talking to Andrew," Hermione said, moving the mouthpiece out of the way before concentrating on her conversation again.
"I see," Andrew had been saying. "What movie are you planning on watching?"
"I don't know yet; the guys picked it out," Hermione replied. Just then, the first streams of the Star Wars theme came out of the speakers, causing Hermione to groan.
"Which one is it?" asked Andrew, obviously having heard the theme music.
"The Phantom Menace," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes even though Andrew couldn't see it. "I've seen this one; why didn't they just rent Attack of the Clones and be done with it? There's only so much Star Wars I can take!"
"We're preparing you for what is to come, young Padawan," said Ron in a mystical voice, causing Hermione to hurl a pillow at him. "Hey, when did you get an arm like that? Have you been hanging around Ginny again?"
Hermione could hear Andrew laughing on the other end of the phone. She glared at her friends before turning her attention back to her phone.
"And what, pray tell, is so funny Drew?" she asked, her voice sugary sweet.
"Your friends remind me of my own fellowship, that's all," Andrew replied. "All jokes and teasing with a level of violence. It's enchanting, really."
Before Hermione could answer, the pillow was flung back at her, hitting her in the head. She glared at Ron, who now looked like a toned down version of his twin brothers when they were plotting something.
"Andrew, I'm really sorry to do this to you, but I have to go," she said, her gaze not leaving Ron's. "I have a best friend to kill. I'll phone you tomorrow, when these two dingbats aren't around."
"Well, okay," said Andrew, and Hermione felt very bad when she heard his dejected tone. "You have my phone number, right?"
"Speed dial, third setting right behind Harry and Ron," Hermione replied. Another pillow sailed by her head, and Hermione could tell that the Terrible Twosome were planning on throwing another if she didn't hurry up and get off the phone. "And now I really need to go. Tomorrow, okay?"
"Tomorrow," Andrew agreed with a note of hopefulness in his voice.
"Bye then," she signed off. Andrew did the same, and Hermione clicked off the phone. "Oh, it's on now!"
She grabbed a pillow and started pummeling her two friends, the movie completely forgotten for the time being.
OoOoOoOo
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