2.
Among Friends
The portal faded away, leaving only the flicker of candlelight. Warm and rich, it danced over a tapestry of rough hewn timbers, milky white plaster, carpets and opulent fabrics of gold and green. Willow had so many memories of this place, both good and bad. In many ways the Devon coven still felt like home. Or at least, it should have.
Righteous indignation burned like an ember at the back of her head, keeping the headache company. She held on to it, fanned it, nurtured it…because if she allowed herself to feel, to think, to react, her resolve might crumble.
As Ms. Harkness rose to leave the circle, her attention turned to Willow. Her round, normally kindly face was etched with stress. "Good of you to join us," she said, gesturing to where Giles sat waiting at a small, round table in the corner of the room. "Why don't you have a seat?"
Willow didn't pay the other witches in the circle any notice. Her situation was far too fragile. She was here again, in this sacred place, with these amazing women—so many of them dear—doing something she'd vowed she'd never do again. But it isn't me. It isn't my fault. They just don't understand. She turned away and did as Ms. Harkness asked.
A candle occupied the table's center. Willow looked past its soft, golden light. It seemed a contradiction to the glower Giles gave her. The truth of their situation was right there, plain as day, written all over his face. There wasn't an ounce of curiosity in his expression. Unbelievable! I don't think he knows. He'd want to know what I know if he did. Ms. Harkness was much harder to read, but Willow was pretty sure she was clueless too. This is their fault. They went all wiggy on me and missed the obvious.
Ms. Harkness took a seat to Willow's left, beginning to speak before she was fully seated, "What exactly did you mean to do, silly girl?"
Willow continued to glare at Giles, unmoving, arms folded across her chest. Giving them time to stew only seems fair, considering. She used the opportunity to fortify the magical barriers that kept them at bay. Giles finally cracked. As he averted his eyes, Willow replied, "If you must know, I was going to see a demon about a girl."
That got his attention. He sputtered, "You were doing what?"
"You people need to pay more attention," Willow fumed. "Buffy's missing and I'm sitting in the penalty box." With each word she spoke, he grew that much paler. "You could try letting me go. Maybe let me do my job. It might even be helpful if you remembered what side we're all on. I'm not your enemy and I resent being treated that way."
"What exactly do you mean by 'missing'?" Giles asked. "We registered that you were quite upset and on the move, but there was no indication that anything was the matter with Buffy."
"Gods!" Willow exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Do I need to draw you people a picture? Look it up, Rupert. You can't exactly register anything about someone who's not there. Now can I go?"
Ms. Harkness gestured to the other witches before she spoke, "We must know what precisely you intend to do before we can allow you to leave."
"Well, I thought I'd start by visiting Beljoxa's Eye," Willow replied with mock contemplation. "Sort of seemed like the thing. Got a question about a mystical event, he's pretty much your demon." She hated to be mean. Unfortunately, once she got going, "The major difference," the meanness continued to bubble up, "I'm not some washed-up librarian." That's okay. These people are well past deserving it. She remembered how ridiculously ineffectual Giles had been in dealing with the Eye. "So I thought I'd start the questioning by removing a couple of eyes from his—uh, 'eye' thingy." She refused to be. She couldn't afford to be. "Whatever. That isn't the point. The point is to get what I need without dealing with all of the stupid, cryptic doubletalk he's known for. I don't have time for that. And this…?" Her rant was broken by a huff. "You people are on my last nerve! Let! Me! Go!"
Giles said, "Willow, perhaps we should—"
Willow cut him off, "No, Giles, we really shouldn't. Don't you see? We don't have time. Goddess only knows where she—" She stopped short. That path would only lead to speculation. And speculation would lead to wallowing…perhaps even bawling. I need to keep moving. She sighed.
"Willow is correct," Ms. Harkness said. "Buffy Summers does not exist in this realm."
Hearing her agree was more than Willow could take. It made everything feel more real. She shot to her feet. The sharp movement caused her chair to tip over. She shouted above the clatter, "Have you people not been listening? I just said that!" Her attention turned from Giles to Ms. Harkness. "Now let me go. You know how important she is. Someone has to find her."
Giles raised his hand, gesturing for her to be still. "Very well, Willow," he said. "Find her, please."
Giles and Kennedy crossed paths as she stormed out of the room. For a moment Buffy thought she might have to intervene, but Giles made way. Good. She really doesn't want me to get up again.
After the near miss, he continued to the couch. A reassuring smile tempered his features as he briefly met Buffy's eyes. He deposited the items he carried on the empty cushion beside her. Buffy half expected he would help her with the blanket, or maybe say something, but he turned away. Her brow knit. No clue why I just went all Daddy's Little Girl over that. Things aren't exactly peachy between us back—
His next stop was the bookshelf behind the large wooden desk that took up nearly a fifth of the room. Though Buffy watched Giles peruse the titles, he didn't have her full attention. The anxiety that practically poured off of Willow made her impossible to ignore. That doesn't make much sense either. The way she acted when I hugged her, I expected her to beat a retreat with Psycho Slayer, but so far she's stayed put.
Again, no clue why, but I think I'm glad.
A sharp pain in Buffy's shoulder and side caused her to cringe when she twisted to reach for the blanket. She bit back a whimper. Her plan had been to use the opportunity to take a peek at Willow. The whole production was lots more unpleasant than she bargained for, but she did eventually get there, much to her disappointment. What she sensed was actually more telling than what she saw. That was helpful. There are statues with more emotional range.
Buffy slid the first aid kit aside to take the blanket. The nightgown she had on was ripped. It wasn't indecent, but she was still feeling pretty exposed, what with Giles. Not that he was paying attention. He'd managed to find a book or five to keep him entertained. She unfolded the blanket, stood, wrapped it around her shoulders and seated herself again.
Will should be freaked, I s'pose. Kennedy could've come off less like loony. I'm not sure how. Both of their reactions were pretty over-the-top.
Yeah, I guess. Whatever. I think Kennedy was just trying to protect everyone. I can't really fault her for that.
The second knuckle of Buffy's middle finger on her right hand was badly scraped. Willow came around the couch to join her as she picked up the first kit, opening it in her lap. "Here, let me help you with that," she mumbled, taking the case away.
"You don't have to," Buffy replied, but Willow didn't listen. Any other time, Willow taking her hand like this would've been nice, but it wasn't long before the sting of antiseptic had washed any comfort away. Buffy leaned back, resting her head against the back of the couch, and tried to relax.
I want to look for a simple explanation. It's sad. They say the simple one's usually the right one, but the simple one only ever makes me look simple, so…
Buffy flexed her fingers when Willow released her hand. The scraped skin pulled. It hurt. Paper ripped. Willow reclaimed her hand.
I bet whoever said that never had to avert an apocalypse.
After applying a Band-Aid to Buffy's knuckle, Willow straightened and twisted her arm to get a better look at her elbow. Buffy just played along, pretending she was one of those funny bendy dolls.
Yeah, so, pretty much…
That exercise in tolerance carried them for a few minutes. Between the sharp pain from her injured shoulder and Willow's gentle coaxing, which was meant to be nice but was actually annoying, Buffy had to take over. She started to explain, "Here," as she pulled away, "Umm…lemme," but doing was just easier—what with the occasional, random stabbing pain.
Buffy turned onto her side. Her plan was to lie down on her tummy so the arm Willow wanted would be on the outside and facing the right way. As plans went, it was solid. Willow even got up to give her room to move, though that wasn't strictly necessary. Everything was going fine until Buffy got where she was going and Willow did the one thing that you never ever want someone who's looking at your body to do. She grimaced. Buffy stopped wrestling with the blanket to check what was the matter.
A large, deep-tissue bruise covered most of her right calf. She wanted to see the left one more clearly, but she gave up. Twisting any more than she had to didn't sound appealing. Okay, well, there are worse things she could be staring at. It looked about like it felt, which was pretty much what Buffy expected. "I'll be fine, Will. It just hurts," she said. It'll probably be healed up by morning, but there's no way she'd know that.
Poor pouty Willow didn't look up. "Are you sure?"
Buffy replied, "Yeah, I'm sure," as she rested her hand over Willow's. "It always hurts. And it always heals. Those are pretty much the two constants in my life. You know that." She was shooting for reassuring, but where she ended up was somewhere entirely different.
"Yeah, I guess," Willow mumbled.
Buffy wanted to say something else—preferably something to rub a little of the self-pity off that last thing—but she couldn't come up with anything better than 'it's not all that bad.' That was lamer than the first stupid thing she'd said. She decided it was better to keep her mouth shut and let it blow over.
It took a little while for Willow get there, but she eventually went back to cleaning Buffy's elbow. And Buffy eventually went back to ignoring her. It didn't help that Giles hadn't found anything better to do with his time other than watch them and pretend to read. But really, that was just another thing to be ignored.
Y'know, it's weird. Will doesn't feel that much different than she did those last few months in Sunnydale. It's like nothing's changed.
Well, no, not really. It's like everything's gotten worse.
Buffy tried to imagine how, but other than the obvious 'the me who's me here appears to be a vampire,' she drew a blank. So, yeah…either vampy me has completely erased all the good we've done and this Willow is my Willow without all the good, or this place is a different place and this Willow who looks and smells and feels exactly like my Willow but more with the 'ahhhhh!' is a different Willow.
Considering I traveled thousands and thousands of miles in forty winks, I'm thinking option B sounds better. Even without the nap, option B sounds better.
Or this could all be a really real magic- or drug-induced dream. I could be at home passed out in bed and my Will could be stressing over how to wake me up. That's happened too.
Or this could be something completely new.
A random thought brought a smile to Buffy's face. Only me. Whatever this is, it could only happen to me. I've wanted to get back here for over a year now. Pretty much since I left. It took a few months for the shine to wear off of living abroad, but whatever.
So, I get exactly what I want—a free trip home—only I wake up in another godforsaken graveyard. But not just…I've slept in graveyards. They can actually be fairly comfy if you plan ahead. No, I woke up on a freshly filled grave with evil, undead, vampy me consulting her meal planner.
"What's so funny?" Willow asked.
Buffy got rid of the less-than-helpful smirk before she replied, "Nothing."
Willow wasn't going to let it go. Her impatience was a palpable thing even without a clear view of her. "Seriously, what's up with you?" she asked.
I've got nothing. And I seriously need to choose something soon, so… I don't want to think that this Willow is my Willow 'cause that undoes all the good we've done. I'd rather she be a different Willow. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it…until someone tells me I'm being silly again.
Hasn't happened yet, so that pretty much means I'm not in Kansas anymore. "Uh, I've gotta ask," Buffy mumbled. "You people know what shrimp are, right?"
It worked. The ice broke. Or at least Willow cracked a grin. "Yes, Buffy, we have shrimp," she replied, trying to hold in a laugh.
Buffy's silly joke told her something useful. This world wasn't that much different from her own. But just like in her world, the allusion to Anya had another, unwelcome effect: the mood of the room seemed to turn somber. Buffy's grin faded. Giles shut the book he was reading with a thump, causing Willow to jump. She shook it off and went back to work.
That would've suited Buffy just fine if she hadn't picked her leg to work on. The burn of the antiseptic soon made it impossible to do anything except grit her teeth and clench her fists. She put up with it as long as she could, but her nerves eventually frazzled.
Doing her utmost to restrain herself, Buffy turned onto her side to protect her injured leg and said, "That's enough." When Willow flinched, she added a guilty sounding, "Please." I could be less of a baby too. That might help. "My leg's not gonna fall off, Will. I swear. It'll be okay." Excuses aren't going to help matters either. I'm just spoiled. I've had Will's magic to protect me for so long, I've forgotten.
Willow replied, "Okay."
She was sitting angled away from Buffy. Her hair covered her face, but Buffy didn't need to see her expression to understand. Nothing about Willow's reply said she was 'okay.' She began to play 'busy' to hide the hurt, straightening out the first aid kit as she replaced the items she'd removed and not used. You'd never guess her mom was a totally repressed control freak.
After giving her few moments to cool down, Buffy touched the hand Willow clenched wadded scraps of paper in and said, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Willow replied, but she continued to pretend to pick up.
Giles interrupted, "I assume you mean us no harm?"
Buffy almost jumped. Her attention snapped to him. Reflexively, she replied, "No," stressing the word to make it plain she felt the question foolish.
"You appear as baffled by this situation as we are," Giles observed. His nose was pretty firmly ensconced in another book, but he did give her a quick glance. "Perhaps we can piece something together with your help. Would you mind sharing what you experienced this evening?"
Buffy stammered, "Oh, uh…" I've already got a clue. Not sure if it's the right clue, but whatever. I'm curious. "Not a whole lot. I went to sleep at home and woke up in a graveyard. Totally creepy." She intentionally kept her explanation vague. "Then this whacked out, uber-bitch-vamp jumped me. Strangest thing is she—well, this is gonna make you think I've lost it."
Her ploy worked. She couldn't help smiling when Willow met her eyes and said, "That was you, Buffy." For someone who started off so certain, her confidence sure didn't last long. "Or I mean that's the you that's you here. Does that make sense? Gosh, I hope so."
Alright, so…we're all pretty much on the same page. I don't belong here. Good to know.
A short, thoughtful pause later, Willow added, "Can I ask you what's up with your eyes?"
Buffy grinned. She opened her mouth to say, 'You can ask,' before she got overrun.
"Okay so…I guess I can—I mean, I just did—ask that is—but will you answer? You don't have to answer."
She's a little intense. Not exactly my Will, but really, really Willowy.
"Long story," Buffy replied. "It's nothing bad. I'm still me. Just a little more me than I was, if you know what I mean." Trying to talk this up after the week I've had feels really dishonest, but there's nothing to gain by freaking them out.
From the look on Willow's face it was pretty easy to guess her answer was 'no,' so Buffy tried again, "My Willow—" her voice caught "—was afraid for me." Differentiating the two felt unfair too, but right and necessary. "There were all sorts of bad things going on, so she figured out a way to make me more—like what the Shadow Men wanted to do, only not so much and more controlled. That happened here, right? The 'Shadow Men' thing?" Willow nodded. "Okay, well…she was careful, but 'more' always carries a price."
Giles turned to face the bookshelf behind him. "It's apparent that you don't belong here," he remarked as he scanned through the titles again.
Points to Mr. Obvious, but a point might be nice. Buffy expected him to maybe share something they didn't already know. He had been reading, sort of at least. And he was going back for more. That usually meant progress. Or at least something more useful than overstating what was right under their noses.
He found another book and another passage. "Unfortunately, knowing that brings us no closer to understanding how or why you are here." Reading it apparently didn't help. All he had to offer was filler. He read a little more and went back to turning pages. It was like he was trying to reassure her by doing what she expected. Too bad he can't do much more than half-ass it.
"Yeah, pretty much," Buffy mumbled. So me as a vampire. Scary.She waited on Giles, but he'd found something to hold his interest and he wasn't in a sharing mood.
Sort of makes me feel worse for Will. My evil me wasn't skanky. There was no leather, no corset. Her outfit was actually kind of cute. Nice to know that even death won't kill my fashion sense.
When it became obvious that no one planned followed up the Q. and A., she shut her eyes. She was way more interested in sucking me—
Willow exclaimed, "Oh!" grabbing their attention. Buffy expected some sort of earth-shattering revelation after that, but Willow just turned sheepish. "Oh, umm…" she mumbled. "It's just, I bet you see better in the dark, what with the—"
"Yeah, I do," Buffy replied, trying to remember what she was thinking before the interruption. But she was all 'oh.' 'Oh' usually means something useful. Oh well…
She got the distinct impression that Giles was only hanging out to make sure Willow was okay. It's just nice to see him like this again, even if he is being a pain.
Not sure if it's possible, but this'll probably freak Will out even worse. I can't really help that. We need to talk. And I can't think of a better way.
It felt a little like showing off, but that couldn't be helped either. Buffy mouthed the words, "Part the veil so I may see. Mother Metis, reveal her thoughts to me." Really, if I'm totally honest…part of this is just me feeling needy. This is making me crazy. Anything closer is bound to be good. Even if this Willow isn't my Willow, she should understand.
Concentrating on Willow's name, Buffy projected like she'd been taught. She waited, but nothing happened, so she tried again.
It still didn't work. She quickly gave it one last shot and opened her eyes.
Giles looked over the top of his glasses, considering her with marked curiosity. She ignored him. I did this all the time with my Will. Why won't it work now?
When Buffy tried again, "Part the veil so—" Willow heard her "—I may see." She reached out as Buffy whispered, "Mother Metis…" their hands touched "…reveal—" a charge passed between them "—her—" she jerked away "—thoughts to me."
The spell worked. Buffy felt it. She heard Willow say, 'What?' and wasn't sure whether she'd actually spoken. It worried her that Willow sounded confused, but she was confused too, so… One thing's for sure, I don't know diddly about magic.
Giles asked, "Is everything alright, Willow?"
Buffy expected Willow to lose it. Instead, she replied, "Yeah, umm…" Some of the tension even left her face when she added, "I'm fine."
As far as Buffy was concerned, that was the best part. She actually saw something of the Willow she knew. I think she's trying to figure it out. That's too funny. Well, when she does, I hope she shares.
Huh. Maybe that's it? Will said something about sharing. She's probably too far away to—
«It's okay. You didn't bother me.»
Hearing Willow's voice in her mind was overwhelming. They sound exactly the same. A sinking feeling accompanied the realization and the admission. I need to get back there. She's gotta be wigged.
Buffy concentrated on a question, «Do you know what just happened?» just to take her mind off of that. It figures that this is what I wanted—I asked for it, I went to some trouble to get it—and now that I have it, I'm freaking out. I need to lighten up.
«Not really, but I swear it's okay.»
Buffy could almost hear Willow's thoughts. They sounded like whispers in another room. As she focused, trying to listen in—and unsurprisingly, failing miserably—the whispers grew louder until finally she heard, «Actually, this is kind of nifty. Did she teach you this?»
«Yeah, but it didn't work.» I thought I knew how it worked. I thought it was me. I thought I was—
«Sure it did,» Willow countered, sounding almost excited. «What do you think this is? I didn't do this.»
Her reply left Buffy that much more baffled. «Okay.» After being so careful to get the inflection right, she let her next thought trail off. How'd you get that? The 'okay' was enough. It was meant to be leading, questioning, disbelieving. The truly funny part was that Willow would've had to have been blind not to notice that she wasn't 'okay.' Not by a long shot. Must be my turn.
«So what did you want? I mean, I assumed you wanted something. I don't know. Did you want something?»
« , uh…» What Buffy wanted to say was right there on the tip of her tongue, so to speak. She needed a moment to untangle her thoughts. «Umm…I just wanted to say, 'I'm sorry.' I hope I didn't screw things up. You should go talk to Kennedy. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.»
Giles rose to his feet, drawing their attention. "Might I suggest we find a room for our guest? I believe we could all do with some rest."
Well, I guess I passed his test, whatever that was. Buffy smiled. It was sweet. That's what it was.
«But Buffy, you have no idea what it's been like here.» Willow's thoughts betrayed the illusion that she was completely focused on Giles. «I can't just leave you. I'm not going to unless you send me away.» Moments later she replied aloud to Giles, "I can handle it. Why don't you go to bed? You look beat."
"Alright, well, thank you," he replied, "and good night to you both."
As he left them, Buffy waited, allowing Willow to say, "Good night," first before doing so herself.
When Willow stood, the sharp realization came over Buffy that she still didn't know for sure where she was. She took the hand Willow offered her. Guess it's time I found out.
Willow concentrated on making a grand, scary entrance. Floating, not flying…and definitely not walking because walking was just too pedestrian. A swirling air current tracked her progress down the alley, picking up dirt and debris. Random spikes of electricity arced from her body, connecting with the nearest objects, mostly grungy cinder block walls.
I'm not even sure where they sent me. S'pose I could figure it out if I cared, but it doesn't matter. This looks like as good a spot as any. Demon first, questions later.
Wonder if they still think 'Watchers' is a good name? How 'bout 'Watchers with Blinders'? That'd be more accurate. They seriously got so distracted by me that they missed their poster girl getting nabbed? A person they actually believed needed body doubles.
To make matters that much blinder, she was nabbed before anything happened with me. I was upset because of the nabbing.
I just can't believe they're that stupid. It's sad.
A power transformer exploded behind Willow as she approached the next intersection. Sparks showered the broken asphalt. Whoops!
So…
Giles really has changed. And not for the better. That's too bad. I sort of hoped he'd help, but I doubt he is. He could be. He could be a huge help. He has contacts galore. And Goddess knows we have books. Considering what I saw, it wouldn't surprise me if he's more worried about how he's gonna keep the team together without its star player.
Willow arrived at the intersection and stopped. There was somebody here. She sensed it, but there was just too much trash. The narrow alley was practically piled full. It wasn't worth digging. She decided to wait it out. Besides, her magical plasma lamp impression was kind of fun, even if it did make her hair frizzy. She played, pointing at this and that, sending bolts of lightning here and there. Eventually, she struck pay dirt. A pile of garbage she'd just zapped rustled. She zapped it again and 'eureka.' Funny ears, spines, bad complexion, poor hygiene… You'll do.
As the demon broke into a lopsided run, dragging his right leg, Willow magically hoisted him off of the ground by his lame appendage. He cried out as his body swung down. The sound reminded her of an angry squirrel. She smirked in spite of herself.
It took a second for the creepy little bugger to get the bright idea to struggle. She was tempted to drop him on his head. He wiggled and writhed as she concentrated on reeling him in. When he was closer, but not too close, she said, "I need to see Beljoxa's Eye. Open the gateway." She paused to consider the arrogant expression the demon's grotty, pockmarked face. "Now might be good." At least he stopped squirming.
"And if I don't?" he asked.
Well, he picked a truly annoying time to grow a spine. And if it doesn't turn to jelly post haste, I'm gonna rip it out and beat him with it.
But that one was pretty stale, so Willow chose another threat. "I'm gonna hazard a guess that your insides are probably just as appealing as your outsides. Up for testing that theory?" With a casual thought, she nicked the demon's cheek to make her point perfectly clear.
It worked. The teensy-weensy cut made the demon all wishy-washy. "Right! No need to get testy, Miss." Putting a gnarled finger to the cut, he smeared at the foul, puss colored stuff that passed for blood.
Willow made a face when he licked it from his finger. "I suppose it's pointless to tell you just how gross that is?"
He waved his arms around and made a bunch of weird grunting noises. At first she wondered if it was some sort of bizarre answer, but then a glowing gateway sparkled to life right beside her. She turned to toward it, suspicious that none of the waving and grunting had been absolutely necessary. He was probably just putting on a show for the tourist.
Sighing as she entered the portal, Willow released her hold on the demon. The funny squeak he made when he busted his noggin almost made up for some of the yuckiness.
She ended up in the middle of a whole lot of nothing. Eerie, hollow, breathy sounds echoed from the darkness. For nothing, it's awfully noisy here. She wrinkled her nose. Doesn't smell like nothing either. Trying to get her bearings, she called out, "Beljoxa's Eye?" The portal closed as her voice blended with the other noises echoing in the nothing.
"Here," returned a detached, masculine voice. And of course, the voice echoed too, making it difficult to discern the source.
It didn't help that with the portal gone she couldn't see. Willow conjured a light. The spell she used was handy for stuff like walking through the woods at night, but it wasn't much good in a massive sucking void, so she fed it. Her little light grew bigger as she turned, searching for the demon. Finally, she spotted him. "Ah, there you are," she said. "Nice place. Bit Spartan." Must get awfully boring. I bet he'd kill for a TV…or less.
Willow explained as she made her way to the demon, "I'm looking for Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer. I wondered if you might know where she is." Yup, just as pretty as his picture…pretty much ancient, pretty much banished, pretty much a prominent scourge in an underworld that has multiple scourges, and pretty much icky 'fetal pig' pink.
I didn't expect him to be pink. That's the trouble with books. Everything's usually in black and white.
He's like a big, lumpy pink beach ball in a rusty metal cage. Best I could figure, he got prominent by being a complete poophead.
A slow poophead. I'm getting bored. She was considering poking one of the lumpy eye things when he replied, "The slayer resides in parallel human dimensional grid 435E91A, subsection 43A in what you would perceive as Los Angeles."
It struck her as curious that the Eye didn't have a mouth. Lots of eyes. No mouth. Yet he's so articulate…at saying nothing. That was just a bunch of gobbledygook unless I find his map. And that's assuming there actually is a map. He's probably feeding me a load of hooey.
She asked, "That's it?"
He shot back, "That's it."
Well, that was less than useless.
But in fairness, he did tell me one useful thing. She's in L.A. Angel should be there to make sure she's okay.
One useful thing isn't gonna cut it.
"I just knew this was gonna be a pain," Willow said with a sigh. "Look, get useful or I'm gonna get miffed. How do I find her?" I could always play catch. Could be bad. 'Catch' usually ends in 'crash' for me.
"You cannot," he replied. "You are human. Despite your power, you do not possess the ability to travel between parallel realms."
Willow reasoned, "Well, she's human. How'd she get there?"
"Her transference came about as the result of human folly and desire."
Repeating something pointlessly cryptic is mostly just as pointless. She did it anyway. "Desire you say?" Sometimes it helps, but this just isn't that hard. Stupidity plus desire plus a missing persons report usually only means one thing. "You mean like a wish?" she asked.
As she turned away, already knowing the answer, the Eye replied. "Yes."
"Thank you," she said. "You've been most helpful."