Fic: Shanshu 20 - The Sunflower
Mar. 2nd, 2015 10:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonyphoenixFandom: BtVS
Prompt: 450 - Gorgon
Rating: PG
Summary: Part 20 of Shanshu
Word Count: 1654
“We dusted the vamps back behind that club.”
“Who dusted them?” Willow asked.
“Okay, okay, the Slayers did while I hid in a completely manly fashion,” Xander said. “And, hey, how come you don't get on Andrew's case for saying 'we Slayed'?”
“Because I've known you longer.” She left it at that. The street was crowded, more alive than Pittsburgh had been. Of course Theater Square was more highbrow than a street full of eateries and dance clubs. Recognizing the name from the police reports, Willow took in the Club California, all three stories with neon signs and a line out the door. “Is this where the cops picked you up?”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “Thanks, by the way, for getting me out of jail I mean. There was this one big guy, I swear his name was Bubba, who was getting a leetle to interested in the Xan-man.”
“And where'd you see Spike?”
Tracking to where Xander was pointing, Willow looked through a wide window into a fairly crowded space that was all green and yellow cheerful. “He came out of there? Are you sure?”
“Well, let's see, I was a bit distracted what with the getting arrested and all but, yes, that's the door Spike came out of.”
“Right,” Willow said. “Let's go see if they recognize the photograph.”
As they crossed the street, Willow could see that the place was a cafe called The Sunflower. There was a big chalkboard with the words Poetry Slam written out in multi-colored letters and the inside was, if anything, even more cheerful – in a chipper way, not an overly saccharine way – than it had seemed from the street. “Who knew there was this much sunflower tchotchke in the world?” Xander asked. In addition to a sunflower banner that ran the length of the store, there were sunflower tableclothes, little mirrors with sunflowers on them, a sunflower wind chime by the register. Heck, even the crew had sunflowers embroidered on their white blouses.
“Table for two?” The waitress was sort of cute. Blonde, tall but lean. She reminded Willow of a chick from, where was it? Paris? Maybe Rio. No, definitely not Rio. That had been a blonde all right, but a guy.
“Actually we're looking for someone,” Xander said.
“Name?”
“We don't really have a name,” Xander continued. “Unless he's going by Spike which he, uh, might not be.”
“No name? Did you agree on a signal of some kind, a carnation perhaps?” Ooh, this one was snarky. Nice. Willow made a mental note to come back after they'd found Spike.
“No, but we have a picture. Willow, show her the photo.”
Andrew had given them the photo. “I had this made up as soon as I heard you were looking for Spike.” It was a head-shot of the Spike she remembered. Spikey bleached hair. Dark leather coat.
“Where'd you get this?” she'd asked.
“Um, remember when I'd interviewed you all back before Sunnydale became a giant sinkhole?”
“Oh, yeah,” Xander said. “You got that from those? Nice shot. Hey, is that Buffy's basement?”
“Um, Andrew,” Willow said.
“Yeah?” He sounded a bit uncertain. Oh yeah, this was definitely worth pursuing.
“How did you get those out of Sunnydale. I mean, it's not like you had time to run back to the house for them.”
“Well, I sort of, um …”
“Andrew.”
“Imailedthemtomynana.”
“Huh?” Xander asked.
“You mailed them to your …” Willow translated the word nana. “ … grandmother?”
“Yeah,” Andrew replied. “Sunnydale was, well, I really didn't think I'd make it out alive and I wasn't too sure about anybody else really, and everyone was so brave and it was so beautiful and I wanted the world to know so I shipped out everything I'd caught on camera a couple of days before … well, before we went back to the high-school.”
“Oh, wow, that actually … That's pretty cool.”
“Thanks Xander,” Andrew said. “Oh, and I've got a bag for the photo, so you can carry it around all surreptitious like, with no one seeing it until you want them too.”
“Okay, that sounds …” insane, Willow thought “ … useful.”
“What is that thing?” Xander asked.
“It's a briefcase.” Andrew sounded wounded.
“Then why does it look like a purse?” Xander was looking at it as if he were afraid it'd bite.
The reddish leather was actually kind of nice. “It's a woman's briefcase,” Willow said. “Medici?”
“Yeah,” Andrew said. “I was out with my Slayers and we were Slaying outside of this really awesome shop and when they saved the owner …”
“Okay, okay,” Xander interrupted. “But Willow? You're carrying the purse.”
Willow pulled the photo out of the briefcase and held it up. “It's from about six years back.”
“I'm not sure,” the waitress said.
“Picture him with darker hair,” Xander said. “Sort of longer and more flowey around the front and trimmed shorter around the sides and back.”
“Oh, Will,” she said. “It's Will. Yeah, he's a regular.”
Willow glanced around the bright space. “He comes here? A lot?”
“Yeah, like I said, a regular.”
“He wouldn't happen to be here now, would he?” Xander asked.
“It's sort of important that we find him,” Willow added.
“No, not since last night but his bud, Morgan, he's over there at the far table. Firely t-shirt. You can't miss him.”
There was a guy at the back, cowlicky blonde hair, dark glasses, and a “leaf in the wind” t-shirt. “Oh, a geek.” Willow grinned as she spoke. “Right up our alley.”
Xander led the way, dodging around the tables, most of which were full. Must be a popular place. “Hey, are you Morgan?”
Before Xander could ask about Spike, Morgan had leaped to his feet, grabbed Xander by the collar, and raised a fist for a punch. “Eyepatch! You're that guy from the other night, the one who knew Will.”
Willow's hands shot out. “Nap time.”
Xander grabbed Morgan before he hit the floor. “Willow!”
“Sorry,” she added as Xander helped Morgan into a chair. “Just meant to make him a bit more agreeable.”
“Is there a problem here?” Some guy, manger by the look of him, put himself between the two of them and Morgan.
“It's okay, Dave. I got it.” The girl had come out of nowhere. She was sort of cute in a dark pixeyish way. And, hey, she was helping.
“Ash, you sure?” Dave asked.
“Yeah.” She waved him away. “Morgan, dude, you definitely need a coffee before you head out the door.” She turned her attention to Willow and Xander. “You two want anything?” She sounded as if there was nothing odd about her friend almost collapsing after being approached by two strangers.
“Uh, no, we're good,” Willow said.
“Come on, what's your poison?”
“Herbal tea?”
Xander glanced at Willow before adding, “Coke for me.”
“Great, be right back.”
“Herbal tea?” Xander asked once Ash was at the bar.
“Did you want to waste time arguing about drinks?” Willow asked.
“Well, yeah, okay.”
“How's the guy?”
“Fine, fine,” Morgan answered. He didn't look fine. In fact, he sounded sort of loopy. “Couldn't be finer if I could be in Carolina in the morning.”
“Great,” Xander said. “You've got him singing.”
“Sweeter … senorita … morning.”
“I panicked. He was about to hit you.”
“So, here we are.” Ash placed the tray of drinks on the table and wouldn't talk until they were all sitting. Xander, next to Morgan, took up one end with Willow and Ash at the other.
“So, how do you know Will?”
Xander filled in when Willow didn't answer. “We knew him back in Sunnydale and, uh, sort of lost track of him when, well, you know, it became a big hole.”
“Sunnydale? He'll be awfully glad to see you.”
Something was off. Willow couldn't quite put her finger on it. But Ash looked almost, what?, relieved when Xander had mentioned Sunnydale. To give herself time, Willow sipped at her tea. And hey, everything felt sort of funny and the room was spinning, yellow and pale green wooshing around her and she sort of felt sick but then there was darkness like a cave but with torches and she was still woozy but nothing was spinning.
“Your graces, I have brought the witch.”
And Ash was there, ashy bashy trashy, and she was holding, oooh, glowy. Wanty. Willow reached out with her magic but it slammed straight into something as hard as a brick wall. “Hey. Ouch.”
“Good, she will return the Shansued's memories. Take her to the cell.”
Oh, whoa, there was a dias and it wasn't all that stable with the rocking gently back and forth and back and forth but maybe that was the whole room, and there were three, well somethings or other. They sort of looked like they were wearing cloaks made of bark, tree cloaks, three tree cloaks, but they were mystical too, like Norns, or Moirai, but there faces were hidden. She heard herself giggle. “You aren't Gorgons are you? But you can't be, can you, 'cause then I'd be frozen, cold, stone cold stone.”
And then she was walking and it was still dark. And stone. A still dark stoney stone, oh, and maybe she was stoned because at every torch they passed it seemed as if time stood still and she was staring at that torch forever but then it was just like a poof of a moment and she was in a cage but she wasn't alone and who was it there?
“Spike? Oh my Goddess, Spike, it's you and we've been looking for you even though you'd been dead, well deader, like dead as in all dusty dead, but now you're not and it's so good to see you.” She grabbed him into a hug, chanting his name, chanting Spike Spike Spike Spike, until he answered her.
“Buffy? Are you Buffy?”
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Date: 2015-03-02 04:32 pm (UTC)Gabrielle
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Date: 2015-03-02 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-02 08:31 pm (UTC)Gabrielle
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Date: 2015-03-03 01:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-03 01:56 am (UTC)Gabrielle
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Date: 2015-03-03 02:31 am (UTC)I'm so glad you're enjoying this story. I'm all in all very pleased with this chapter.
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Date: 2015-03-02 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-03 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-02 08:58 pm (UTC)And I totally agree - that was a smart move, Andrew!
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Date: 2015-03-03 01:25 am (UTC)