A/N: I don't own Twilight or BtVS; they are the property of Stephanie Meyers and Joss Whedon respectively. I just like to ponder what would happen if the two worlds collided.

Chapter 31: Scooby-Doo and the Case of the Missing Number

Jasper's outburst, a sharp "Damn it" of frustration, echoed off the walls of Giles's living room, adding to the growing list of emotional expressions—snapping, crying, hissing—that Jasper had shown since his arrival. Such displays of vulnerability were becoming more familiar to Giles and Xander, each instance peeling back layers of Jasper's complex persona, revealing the turmoil beneath his attempts at composure.

Giles and Xander, momentarily startled by the sound, quickly turned their attention towards Jasper. Giles, who had been at his desk leafing through a hefty tome, rose swiftly from his chair, his eyes narrowing in concern. Xander, sprawled on the couch with a Scooby-Doo rerun flickering on the television, sat up abruptly, the remote slipping from his hand and landing with a soft thud on the carpet.

"Everything alright, Jasper?" Giles asked, already moving closer. His tone was calm, accustomed to navigating the emotional upheavals that seemed part and parcel of their lives in Sunnydale. He closed the book in his hand, setting it aside on the desk, and took a few cautious steps towards Jasper.

Xander's response was immediate and tinged with concern. He swung his legs off the couch and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Dude, you've been on edge. What's up this time? The phone getting to you?" His eyes scanned Jasper's face, searching for clues to his new friend's distress.

Jasper, his frustration momentarily giving way to embarrassment, exhaled deeply. Tears of frustration trickled down his cheeks, each one adding to his annoyance. "I can't remember Carlisle's number," he admitted, feeling the weight of his recent emotional tumults making the confession all the more difficult. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, a futile effort to stop the tears. "And I... I really need to speak with him." His voice wavered before he dropped his head and muttered, "Fuck."

Xander quietly slid the tissue box across the coffee table towards him. Jasper glanced at the box, his irritation flaring up again at the physical reminder of his emotional state. He swiped a tissue, roughly wiping his cheeks and nose, bewildered by the snot.

Understanding flickered in Giles's eyes. "Ah, yes, Carlisle's number," he murmured, a memory surfacing. The last time Carlisle had called, Giles had scrambled for something to write on, managing to jot down only a portion of the number before the call was abruptly cut off. "I might have something that can help," he added, turning towards his cluttered desk.

Xander watched as Giles rummaged through the papers and books scattered across his workspace, the urgency of the situation not lost on him. "Hang in there, Jasper," he said, attempting to offer a supportive smile. "Giles has got the memory of an elephant... when it comes to important stuff."

Jasper's frustration boiled over at Xander's attempt to lighten the mood. "Does that include vampires with snot?" he snapped, his southern drawl thickening with his irritation. "Fuck, even Renesmee never deals with this and she's a child!" He wiped his nose angrily, the unfamiliar sensation adding to his irritation. The room fell silent, the weight of Jasper's outburst hanging heavily in the air.

Giles paused in his search, turning to face Jasper with a look of understanding and patience. "I know this is all new and overwhelming, Jasper," he said gently, stepping closer. "But we're here to help you through it."

Jasper's shoulders sagged, the anger draining from him as quickly as it had come. "I'm sorry," he muttered, clutching the tissue in his hand. "It's just... everything's different now. I don't know how to deal with it." He flopped into an armchair, feeling utterly defeated. As he sat there, his mind wandered to Edward's warnings about losing control and attacking humans. Some attack, he thought bitterly, snot running down his face.

Xander stood up and moved to stand beside Jasper, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, man," he said softly. "We're all dealing with our own stuff." Seeing Jasper's struggle, Xander grabbed more tissues from the box and handed them over.

Jasper took the tissues and blew his nose noisily before Giles finally found the scrap of paper he was looking for and held it up triumphantly. "Here it is," he announced, crossing the room to hand it to Jasper. "I managed to get most of Carlisle's number last time he called. This should help."

Jasper's fingers closed around the slip of paper Giles handed him, his eyes quickly scanning the scribbled digits. The numbers, however, didn't form a sequence that made any sense. They seemed random, incomplete—a jigsaw puzzle missing most of its pieces. The frustration that had momentarily ebbed surged back, a tide of confusion and disappointment.

"Damn it! These numbers... they don't seem to align with any phone number format I recognize," Jasper blurted in frustration, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and a faint trace of despair. The hope that had flickered to life at the prospect of reconnecting with Carlisle dimmed, overshadowed by the realization that he was no closer to making the call than he had been moments before.

Xander, noticing Jasper's escalating frustration, gave Giles a quick nod before heading into the kitchen. He returned moments later with a plate of toast and a mug of pig's blood, hoping the familiar taste might center Jasper. "Here, man," he said, offering the plate and mug. "This might help."

Jasper looked at the offering, then back at Xander, his expression softening. "Thanks, Xander," he said, taking the mug and plate. He took an unnecessarily deep breath, remembering how Buffy had coached him through his hyperventilation the other night. The breath helped to ground him, just as it had then.

Giles, peering over Jasper's shoulder at the slip, adjusted his glasses, a thoughtful expression settling over his features. "Hmm, that is peculiar. I was certain I had caught at least a part of the number correctly," he mused aloud. The mystique of the numbers piqued his curiosity. In his experience, very little was ever truly random, especially when magic was involved. "Perhaps there's more to this than meets the eye."

Xander returned with his own can of soda, "Could it be some sort of code, or maybe it's missing a magical component? You know, the kind of thing that doesn't just spell itself out without a little supernatural nudge."

Giles nodded, considering Xander's suggestion. "It's entirely possible. After all, the ways of contacting someone from... another world might not adhere to our conventional expectations." Turning back to Jasper, he proposed, "Let's not lose hope just yet. This may simply be a matter we need to approach from a different angle, perhaps with a bit of research."

Jasper, looking between Giles and Xander, felt a swell of gratitude despite the setback. The willingness of his new acquaintances to delve into the unknown for his sake was more than he'd expected to find in this world. "Thank you, both of you," he said, a sincere smile breaking through the clouds of his frustration. He quickly wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to clear away the remnants of tears and sniffled lightly, feeling a surge of embarrassment about his earlier emotional display. "I suppose a mystery like this is nothing new for the Scoobies, is it?"

Giles returned the smile with a nod, a spark of determination in his eyes. "Indeed, it isn't. And we've faced far stranger with less to go on. We'll figure this out, Jasper. Together."

Jasper sank into the couch, the slip of paper clutched tightly in his hand. He stared at the numbers, their meaning as elusive as smoke. Frustration gnawed at him, a constant companion in this unfamiliar world. He wiped his face again, feeling the drying streaks of tears on his cheeks and the dampness around his nose. His eyes felt uncomfortably dry, a stark contrast to the earlier flow of tears. He mused bitterly over which sensation was worse: the pooling venom that would never fall or the parched, stinging dryness of his eyes. "Why is this so difficult?" he murmured to himself, the words barely a whisper. In his long existence, he had faced countless challenges, but the simple act of remembering or deciphering a phone number felt like an insurmountable obstacle. "It's just a phone number," he continued, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Yet here I am, thwarted by digits on a piece of paper."

He closed his eyes, trying to summon a sense of calm, a technique Carlisle had taught him to manage his emotions. But the frustration refused to abate, simmering beneath the surface like a storm waiting to break. Why does everything in this place feel like a battle? First adapting to this world's rules, now this...this puzzle. Carlisle's number should be a lifeline, not another labyrinth to navigate.

Lost in his spiraling thoughts, Jasper barely noticed the room around him, the sounds of pages turning, and the murmured consultations between Giles and Xander fading into the background. His grip on the paper tightened, a tangible symbol of the barriers standing between him and the connection he sought. As he wiped his face once more, he stole a glance at Xander and Giles, feeling a mix of gratitude and awkwardness. Despite everything, their support made the frustration a little more bearable.

Suddenly, his train of thought was shattered by Xander's voice, louder and more excited than before. "Mr. Marble!" he exclaimed, his outburst slicing through Jasper's brooding like a knife. Jasper's eyes snapped open, confusion momentarily replacing frustration. He looked up to see Xander standing, a book in hand, pointing at a passage as he looked over at Giles, then to Jasper on the couch.

Giles peered at the book Xander held, his expression shifting from skepticism to intrigue. All he saw were images of a destroyed statute to a little-known demon deity. "Xander, what are you on about?" Giles asked, a hint of amusement in his tone despite the seriousness of their task.

Xander, practically bouncing with energy, turned to Jasper. "Remember when you zoned out the other day? Completely marble statue on us? That was right before Carlisle called, wasn't it? What if...what if that's the key? What if the reason you can't remember the number isn't because you forgot, but because it was taken from you, or...or locked away somehow during that call?"

Jasper stared at Xander, the frustration that had clouded his mind beginning to dissipate, replaced by a flicker of hope. Could Xander be right? Was there a supernatural element at play, something that had occurred during that call which had blocked his access to Carlisle's number?

Giles nodded slowly, the wheels turning in his head. "That's...not entirely outside the realm of possibility. Memory alteration or suppression could explain the difficulty Jasper's experiencing. And if that's the case, we may need to delve into some rather specific countermeasures."

~~ W of S ~~

As Jasper pondered the newfound theory, the sound of a knock momentarily redirected the focus of the room. The door creaked open, and Willow peeked inside, rain droplets clinging to her hair and jacket. She quickly scanned the group before settling her gaze on Jasper, who was still clutching the enigmatic slip of paper on the couch.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, stepping inside with a gentle smile and shaking off some of the rain. "It's been pouring all day out there. I just came by to check on Jasper's wound, see how it's healing. But it looks like I've walked into a Scooby meeting instead. What's the mystery du jour?"

Giles glanced up from the book, a mix of relief and welcome lighting up his face at the sight of Willow. "Ah, Willow, your timing might actually be fortuitous. We're trying to unravel a rather perplexing problem regarding a phone number."

Xander chimed in, enthusiasm undimmed. "Yeah, we think there might be some mojo blocking Jasper's memory of Carlisle's number. You know, the kind of thing that makes you go 'hmm.'"

Jasper, feeling a surge of gratitude for Willow's presence, managed a small, appreciative smile. He noticed the raindrops in her hair, each one glistening like a tiny gem, and caught the scent of rain mingling with her natural fragrance—a combination that was unexpectedly enticing. "It's...complicated," he admitted, offering her the paper with the partial, nonsensical numbers. "But Xander might have stumbled onto something important."

Willow's interest piqued, she moved closer to Jasper, her eyes briefly scanning the numbers before meeting his. "Memory suppression? That's tricky, but not impossible to work with." Her focus then shifted to the task at hand, the healer within her coming to the fore. "First, though, let's have a look at that wound. Given your changing physiology Jasper, it may not be healing the way we hope it is."

As she carefully examined Jasper, her fingers gentle but confident, Xander and Giles subtly exchanged glances. Recognizing the unspoken attraction between Willow and Jasper, Giles muttered something about getting some tea and headed towards the kitchen. Meanwhile, Xander, deciding to give them some space, busied himself by searching for the remote to turn off the TV. Despite their attempts at casual distractions, their concern for Jasper remained evident in the way they quietly left Willow to her work.

Willow's touch was soothing, and Jasper couldn't help but feel a warm flush of attraction mingling with his gratitude. Her closeness, while his heart remained still as ever, sent a strange but pleasant sensation through his body. Goosebumps rose on his scarred skin at the touch of her fingertips, a tantalizing feeling that was both exhilarating and unnerving. The residual venom from countless battles tingled under her touch, adding an unexpected layer of sensation that he had never experienced with other vampires.

As Willow's gentle care enveloped him, Jasper's thoughts flickered to Alice. Her touch had always brought him comfort, her presence a source of light in his otherwise turbulent existence. Alice had been his closest confidant, their intimacy a natural extension of their deep bond. With Maria, the connection had been different—intense, physical, and consuming, driven by their shared thirst for power and survival. But this, with Willow, felt new and profoundly tender, stirring emotions he hadn't anticipated.

He felt a twinge of embarrassment as he realized he hadn't had the chance to clean up properly—dried snot still clung to his face, a stark reminder of his recent vulnerability.

Willow, ever perceptive, noticed the slight tinge of red creeping up his cheeks. She paused, her hand hovering near his wound, and looked into his eyes with an unwavering gaze. "It's okay, Jasper," she said softly, her voice a soothing balm. "We've all been there. No judgment here."

Jasper's embarrassment softened, replaced by a deeper appreciation for her kindness and fearlessness. He summoned his southern charm, a habit he found hard to resist around her. Smiling, his eyes seemed to light up as he drawled, "Thank you, Miss Willow. Bless your heart. You've got a way of making everything better. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her smile widened, a blend of understanding and warmth. "You're stronger than you think, Jasper. And you've got all of us here with you."

Jasper, feeling a surge of gratitude and affection, gently placed his hand over hers that hovered near his wound, his touch light and tender. "You're a true angel, Willow. I'm lucky to have you."

Willow's fingers gently interlaced with his, her touch providing a moment of shared intimacy. "And I think I'm beginning to feel lucky to have you here too, Jasper," she said softly, before breaking contact to.

Once satisfied with her inspection, Willow straightened up, nodding in approval. "Looks like you're healing nicely but keep an eye on it. Now, about this memory issue..." She turned her attention back to the group, her mind already racing through possible spells and magical interventions that could address the suppression.

With a few quick gestures, Willow conjured a small, glowing orb, its luminescence casting gentle shadows across the room. The orb floated above her open palm, pulsing with a soft, ethereal light as she directed it towards Jasper. It hovered around him, scanning his aura with an otherworldly shimmer, illuminating Jasper in a spectral glow that seemed to ebb and flow with his very essence.

As the orb's light touched his skin, it caused an iridescent shimmer to appear, a subtle but captivating effect that highlighted the contours of his form without the blinding disco ball sparkle of sunlight. Jasper watched in awe, feeling a mix of emotions coursing through him. He was fascinated by Willow's power and the grace with which she wielded it.

The sensation where the orb's light touched him was curious, a blend of warmth and energy that sent a shiver down his spine. As a vampire, he was used to feeling detached from the world, but Willow's magic made him feel remarkably alive. It was as if her energy was merging with his, wrapping around him in a gentle embrace.

Jasper's eyes widening at the sensation lifted to meet Willow's, and for a moment, he felt a profound connection. His fingers twitched, itching to reach out and touch her skin, but he restrained himself, aware of Giles and Xander's nearby presence.

Willow's eyes softened, her lips curving into a gentle smile. She seemed to understand the depth of his unspoken emotions. "Magic can be a very personal experience. I'm glad it's not unpleasant for you," she said, her voice low and soothing.

Jasper nodded slightly, his gratitude and admiration clear in his gaze. "Far from it," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. His eyes conveyed what words could not: the overwhelming sense of connection and the almost sensual nature of her magic.

Willow's cheeks flushed slightly, and she gave a small, knowing nod. "Magic has a way of touching parts of us that we often ignore. It's a reminder that we're more than just our physical selves."

Jasper nodded again, feeling a deeper appreciation for Willow and the power she wielded. Just then, Willow's brow furrowed deeply, a sign of concern etching into her features as the orb's light flickered erratically. Jasper's sense of connection shifted to unease as he noticed the change. "There's definitely something strange going on here," Willow announced, her voice tinged with gravity. The orb dissipated into a shower of sparkles, leaving the air charged with a sense of unease. "It seems like Jasper's presence here, in Sunnydale, is causing some sort of interference with communication between our world and his."

Jasper's gaze remained fixed on Willow, his earlier sense of connection now mingled with concern. "What does that mean for me?" he asked, his voice steady but shadowed with worry.

Giles re-entered the room carrying a tray with a teapot and cups, his expression thoughtful. "Tea might help us think," he offered, placing the tray on the table. Xander, having found the remote, switched off the TV and joined them, the casual distractions over.

"Interference from the Hellmouth?" Xander asked, concern evident in his voice. "Are you saying it might be opening again?"

Willow shook her head, her expression resolute. "No, the Hellmouth is permanently sealed. But like all things, it's connected. The residual energy is still all around Sunnydale. It's not at risk of opening again, but the lingering energy can still cause issues, especially with powerful beings like Jasper."

Jasper blinked in confusion. "Powerful being? I'm just a vampire. And not really a normal vampire at that, with my cravings for human food. Plus, from what Giles and Xander told me, vampires are at the bottom of the heap in Sunnydale's demon hierarchy."

Willow looked at him, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's not just about being a vampire, Jasper. It's your abilities—you're an empath. That makes you different, and in some ways, more powerful."

Giles, who had been watching the display with keen interest, adjusted his glasses and looked at Jasper intently. "I'm sorry, come again—an empath?" he said, his voice tinged with surprise and curiosity.

Undeterred by the complexity of the situation, Willow pressed on, her confidence bolstered by the clues unfolding before them. "Remember the first time Carlisle called?" she asked, locking eyes with Giles. "Jasper wasn't catatonic then, but the line was distorted. Yet, when Jasper was in his catatonic state, the call was clear. It went on for over an hour." Her words, spoken with conviction, hung in the air, a puzzle piece seeking its rightful place.

Xander nodded his head, absorbing Willow's explanation. "Okay, that's great, Wills, but can we backtrack to Mr. Marbles here being an empath? How do you know this, and what does that mean?" Turning towards the vampire, his questions continued, "Dude, have you been reading my mind all this time? Great!"

Jasper felt a wave of confusion and fear emanating from Xander, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. His fingers began tapping nervously on his knee. "No, Xander, I can't read minds. As an empath, I can feel emotions and, to some extent, manipulate them. It's more about sensing what you're feeling rather than knowing your thoughts."

Xander visibly relaxed, though his curiosity remained piqued. "Okay, got it. So, you've been feeling what we're all feeling this whole time?"

Jasper nodded, his fingers still tapping. "Yes, and sometimes, if necessary, I can influence emotions to help calm a situation or provide comfort. It's not something I do lightly."

Giles, still processing the implications, sat down with his tea to gather his thoughts before turning to Jasper. "Why didn't you share this with us earlier?"

Jasper struggled to find the right words, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he finally spoke. "I've been so preoccupied trying to understand my own changing emotions since I arrived in Sunnydale." He paused, his fingers tapping faster. "It does make people uncomfortable to find out about my abilities. And honestly, I haven't felt the need to manipulate the emotions around me."

Xander, still curious, leaned forward. "Okay, then how come Wills knows?"

Jasper shrugged, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. "Willow's... special. She has a way of making people feel safe. Plus, we had a few conversations, and it just came up."

Willow, sensing Jasper's discomfort, stepped in with a reassuring smile. "That's healer-patient confidentiality, Xander. Now, can we get back to the issue with the Hellmouth?"

Giles blinked, the weight of Willow's observation dawning on him. He nodded slowly, a light of understanding beginning to flicker in his eyes. "I see," he murmured, his skepticism giving way to a cautious intrigue. "The possibility that Jasper's unique state could influence our ability to communicate across dimensions is both fascinating and daunting."

Willow, her gaze softening, reached out to Jasper, her hand gently halting the restless tapping of his fingers. She offered a squeeze of reassurance, a silent promise of support and understanding. Jasper met her gesture with a grateful glance, finding solace in the simple touch amidst the whirlwind of revelations. He marveled at how her touch sent tingles through his skin, so unlike anything he had experienced before. With Alice and Maria, there had been intimacy, but this... this was different. Willow's touch was gentle yet powerful, filled with a warmth that seemed to seep into his very being. It was both comforting and exhilarating, a stark contrast to the cold detachment he usually felt. Her presence was an anchor in his turbulent world, grounding him in a way he hadn't thought possible.

Xander, leaning in with a seriousness that belied his usual demeanor, sought to distill the essence of Willow's theory into something more digestible. "So, let me get this straight," he said, his expression earnest. "Jasper needs to go all 'Mr. Marble' mode for Carlisle's call to come through to Sunnydale?"

The room shared a brief moment of levity, Xander's unique way of summarizing the situation cutting through the tension with a slice of humour.

"Well, not exactly," Willow corrected with a playful smile, appreciating Xander's attempt to lighten the mood. "It's more about Jasper's presence here, on the Hellmouth, causing some kind of interference with communication between our worlds." Her clarification did little to dampen Xander's spirits, his grin remaining unabated.

"Eh, tomato, to-mah-to," Xander quipped, his lightheartedness bringing a chuckle from Jasper, a sound of warmth in the cool analytical air of their discussion.

Willow, undaunted, continued to weave her explanation with growing enthusiasm. Her hands danced through the air, drawing invisible connections between her thoughts and their implications. "When Jasper is in his catatonic state, it's like the block somehow lifts, allowing for clearer communication between our worlds. It's as if his altered state somehow aligns with the supernatural energies of the Hellmouth, making it easier for signals to pass through."

Giles, now fully engaged in the theory, nodded, his earlier skepticism replaced with scholarly curiosity. "So, you're suggesting that Jasper's altered state somehow synchronizes with the supernatural energies of the Hellmouth, allowing for clearer communication with his world," he summarized, the pieces of the puzzle aligning in his mind.

"Exactly!" Willow exclaimed, her smile beaming with the satisfaction of shared understanding. "It's like the Hellmouth acts as a conduit, amplifying and channeling Jasper's presence in a way that facilitates communication."

Jasper, who had remained quiet during Willow's explanation, slowly rose from the couch, moving towards the window as if drawn by the rhythm of the rain against the glass. He turned back to face the group, the reflective light casting shadows across his features. "Well, it might sound fantastical," he began, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and hope, "but I've heard of stranger things in my time." The soft patter of rain provided a quiet backdrop to his words, emphasizing the gravity of his experiences beyond the realm of the known.

Xander, lounging against a bookshelf, raised an eyebrow, his skepticism momentarily piercing the room's contemplative mood. "Yeah, but here's the thing," he interjected, his tone mixing curiosity with doubt. "How does Carlisle know you're catatonic if we in Sunnydale can't reach him?" The question hung in the air, prompting a brief silence as each person grappled with the paradox.

Unable to resist lightening the mood, Xander added with a smirk, "Does Carlisle have a radio tuned into Hellmouth FM or something?" His jest drew a mixture of chuckles and eye rolls, a welcome relief to the tension building in the room.

Jasper, a sardonic twist to his lips, glanced back out at the rain before replying, "Actually, it's more like Alice 105." The room fell quiet, the mention of a new name catching everyone off guard.

Giles, his curiosity piqued, leaned forward from where he stood by his desk, scattered with books and papers. "Alice 105? I'm not familiar with that reference," he admitted, his tone reflecting his intrigue.

Willow, who had been pacing slowly, hands clasped behind her back in thought, stopped in her tracks. "Alice?" she asked, turning her full attention to Jasper, her expression a blend of curiosity and concern.

Jasper hesitated, the weight of sharing something so personal visible in his pause. "Alice is... well, she's a member of our family," he disclosed, his voice softening. "She has a unique gift—a sort of psychic ability that allows her to see glimpses of the future." The revelation seemed to draw the group closer, a shared fascination knitting them together in the dimly lit room.

Giles and Willow exchanged a look of surprise, their scientific curiosity clearly piqued. "Psychic ability?" Giles echoed, the skepticism in his voice softened by an open-minded intrigue.

"Yes," Jasper affirmed, turning from the window to face them directly, his gaze distant as he reflected on Alice's abilities. "She sees things, visions of possible outcomes. It's as if she's tuned into a different frequency, one that most of us can't access." His admission, delivered with a mixture of reverence and wonder, underscored the extraordinary nature of their discussion.

Willow nodded thoughtfully. "Right, you mentioned Alice before when you shared about Edward. I didn't realize the extent of her abilities." She turned to Jasper; her eyes filled with understanding. "That must be incredibly helpful—and challenging." Resuming her pacing, a thoughtful expression on her face. "So, you're saying that Alice has a heightened awareness of the unseen," she mused aloud, her movement reflective of the wheels turning in her mind. "Exactly," Jasper confirmed, a note of relief in his voice at being understood.

Willow's excitement grew as she made connections, her strides becoming more animated. "It's like she's tuned into a different frequency," she repeated, the pieces clicking into place. "Just like radio communication between our worlds."

The analogy struck a chord with everyone, Giles nodding in agreement as he pondered the implications. "Fascinating," he remarked, the idea of a language that transcends time and space captivating his imagination.

Xander, unable to resist, quipped, "So, what station is Alice tuned into? Sunnydale Hits 101?" His humour, consistent as ever, elicited a round of soft laughter.

Willow, smiling, shot back playfully, "More like Hellmouth 105. But instead of music, she's picking up on Jasper." Her analogy brought a lightness to the room, a reminder of the extraordinary yet familiar dynamic of their group.

Jasper's mind raced with the possibilities Willow's insights had unlocked. "Wait a minute," he said, a spark of realization lighting his eyes. "If my catatonic state allows for clearer communication, then maybe Alice acts as the receiver on the other end, picking up on those signals."

The group leaned in, captivated by the unfolding mystery, their collective curiosity and determination a beacon in the uncertain terrain they navigated together. "It's like Alice is attuned to the frequencies Jasper emits when he's in that state," Willow concluded, her voice filled with awe and a hint of triumph.

Giles, ever the scholar, summarized the revelation with thoughtful clarity. "So, Jasper's altered state serves as the transmitter, while Alice acts as the receiver." Their speculative journey had led them to a moment of shared understanding, a testament to their resilience and willingness to embrace the unknown.