Really? Excellent, I like it when I'm less crazy than I thought I was. *grins*
This is set vaguely during season seven. Kind of.
Bob wipes at his axe with a dishtowel, blotting the tiny bats (Frank bought the towels, before he left for LA) with red. He knows he should go find the actual cloth Giles gave him for this purpose, because taking care of his weapon is Important with a capital I, but he's too goddamn tired to bother. Today was a long day. Zombies, werewolves, and bears, oh my. Never mind that Bob himself happens to be a werewolf, he's still not too fond of the murderous kind.
He groans when someone knocks on the door, because he doesn't think he can take company right now. Still goes and gets the door, though, but not without checking who it is (Bob has never been dumb, and Sunnydale's made him downright sharp), and he blinks in surprise when he sees Willow outside.
She doesn't say anything when he lets her in, just shakes her head when he asks if she wants anything. Finally, after both of them staring helplessly at each other for a bit, her face crumples.
"Hey, no," he says, moving close. Careful, because anyone who's seen her in action is careful around Willow, but she's shaking and crying in his apartment, and he knows she's hurting. Knows she nearly ended the world that one time, too.
Still careful, he opens his arms a little, and she pretty much falls into his arms, holding on so tightly. Bob maneuvers them both to the couch, sitting down and letting her curl up, hands clutched in his shirt.
"Hey," he says, "hey." He keeps stroking her back, keeps sitting there until she stops shivering and relaxes slightly. "Did anything--"
Willow shakes her head. "Thanks," she says, sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Sorry, I just, today was a lot."
"It really fucking was," he agrees. "You wanna hang out for a bit? I was going to order pizza or something, or maybe Chinese."
Willow's shaking her head again. "Definitely pizza," she says. "I'll tell you why ordering Chinese in Sunnydale is a bad idea while we wait, if you want."
"Uh, do I want to know?"
She giggles at that, settling in. "See, it was like this--" and then she's off into a wacky story involving ghouls and curses and noodles that did most emphatically not act like noodles should. Bob can't stop laughing, and somehow the day feels less heavy. He forgets about the axe he was cleaning, forgets to order pizza (they end up making a weird dinner out of ramen, some vegetables, and the random canned things they find in a cupboard Bob had forgotten was there) and, you know. Sunnydale might not be so bad after all; he might end up liking this fighting evil gig. As long as it comes with redheads like this one, that is.
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Date: 2009-10-07 08:50 pm (UTC)This is set vaguely during season seven. Kind of.
Bob wipes at his axe with a dishtowel, blotting the tiny bats (Frank bought the towels, before he left for LA) with red. He knows he should go find the actual cloth Giles gave him for this purpose, because taking care of his weapon is Important with a capital I, but he's too goddamn tired to bother. Today was a long day. Zombies, werewolves, and bears, oh my. Never mind that Bob himself happens to be a werewolf, he's still not too fond of the murderous kind.
He groans when someone knocks on the door, because he doesn't think he can take company right now. Still goes and gets the door, though, but not without checking who it is (Bob has never been dumb, and Sunnydale's made him downright sharp), and he blinks in surprise when he sees Willow outside.
She doesn't say anything when he lets her in, just shakes her head when he asks if she wants anything. Finally, after both of them staring helplessly at each other for a bit, her face crumples.
"Hey, no," he says, moving close. Careful, because anyone who's seen her in action is careful around Willow, but she's shaking and crying in his apartment, and he knows she's hurting. Knows she nearly ended the world that one time, too.
Still careful, he opens his arms a little, and she pretty much falls into his arms, holding on so tightly. Bob maneuvers them both to the couch, sitting down and letting her curl up, hands clutched in his shirt.
"Hey," he says, "hey." He keeps stroking her back, keeps sitting there until she stops shivering and relaxes slightly. "Did anything--"
Willow shakes her head. "Thanks," she says, sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Sorry, I just, today was a lot."
"It really fucking was," he agrees. "You wanna hang out for a bit? I was going to order pizza or something, or maybe Chinese."
Willow's shaking her head again. "Definitely pizza," she says. "I'll tell you why ordering Chinese in Sunnydale is a bad idea while we wait, if you want."
"Uh, do I want to know?"
She giggles at that, settling in. "See, it was like this--" and then she's off into a wacky story involving ghouls and curses and noodles that did most emphatically not act like noodles should. Bob can't stop laughing, and somehow the day feels less heavy. He forgets about the axe he was cleaning, forgets to order pizza (they end up making a weird dinner out of ramen, some vegetables, and the random canned things they find in a cupboard Bob had forgotten was there) and, you know. Sunnydale might not be so bad after all; he might end up liking this fighting evil gig. As long as it comes with redheads like this one, that is.