taxonomites | [location: Dodgy Jammer] [open] Baby's at the punch bowl with a glass for you to fill

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[location: Dodgy Jammer] [open] Baby's at the punch bowl with a glass for you to fill

The bar top was polished to a high shine, and Buffy carefully folded the damp towel she'd been using to wipe it down into a neat square.

Not nervous, nope.

Another spot gets a quick wipedown, and Buffy quickly puts the towel away before she manages to scrub a hole in the finish. She didn't really know when people tended to come in, but if she was by herself for awhile, there was always dusting, and mopping, and re-arranging, and and and...

OK, maybe a little nervous.

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One of the first things Gwen did when she crawled out of that alternate whatever was grab a drink. Redcoat. Double vodka. She held the glass in one hand, swishing around so the ice made little crunch sounds. In the other, she had a glass figurine--a dragon she needed to give to a friend.

Her eyes were trained on Buffy--scrub scrub scrubbing away at...nothing, it seemed. The counter looked perfectly good and shiny to Gwen. Guess the whole town was on edge.

"You looking to put a dent in that thing?" she asked, faintly amused.

This snaps her out of her reverie, and the scrubbing stops.

"Cleanliness is godliness, right?"

She shrugs. Maybe. Maybe not. She gives the girl a once-over.

"Something like that. I'd ask what's got you all worked up, but I think this town's seen enough crazy to have every once of us scrubbing our padded walls to death."

Buffy notes the checking-out and does the same in return. Seems normal enough, if a little snarky. Buffy can deal with snarky.

"You want a list? It's been a long couple of weeks. ANd I guess I should offer you a drink, or something."

She sticks out her hand for a handshake.

"I'm Buffy, by the way."

She shrugs, swishes the glass around a bit more. She's been here awhile--lurking in the corner, mostly, but some time ago she got tired of the gloom. "Already got one," she answers and takes a sip.

Gwen already knows who Buffy is, and she eyes the girl's hand warily. "Gwen," she answers, and her own gloved hands don't move an inch. "No offense," she explains with a wry smile, eyes flicking from her hand to her face. Even with the gloves, Gwen's not taking any chances. Some wounds are just too fresh. "I try to avoid contact."

It's not entirely clear why she won't shake hands, but Buffy doesn't push it.

"Sorry, didn't see you come in earlier. It's nice to meet a fellow member of Crazytown."

Another day, she would've launched right into an explanation loaded with dry quips and puns, and hey, maybe even a show. But today...Gwen just doesn't want to talk about it.

"I'm pretty sneaky," she says with a little smile, genuine and playful. She's been trying to keep a low profile, and that was something she doesn't like doing, but she can do it damn well when she has to. "Nice to know even with Big Brother watching us here," she dismissively gestures to the tablet, "you can still be surprised now and then."

"May they always be nice surprises, I say."

Next comes the question that Buffy figures everyone gets asked.

"So how long have you been here? In Taxon, I mean. Not here, here."

She acts like she has to think about it, even though she's got it down right to the day. "About six months, maybe?" She shrugs. It seems like a lot longer. "Think they're throw my a party for my anniversary?" she jokes, all the while thinking Oh please God aliens don't do anything for my anniversary just leave me alone.

She gives the girl another look, trying to put pieces together. She doesn't know this one too well, hasn't seen enough of her on the tablets to get a feel. Not to mention, Gwen's been absorbed in...other things. But she has enough to go on. "You're friends with the redhead chick, right? Willow."

"She's... she's my best friend. A version of her, at least."

It just slips out so easily, since claiming her as a best friend seems somewhat false.

A version. Riiight. That whole time thing.

"Weird, huh?" she asks, thinking of a certain blue ex-demon god walking around looking like a skinny little girl Gwen once knew--didn't like--but knew. "I know someone here from back home who...wouldn't exactly remember me."

"Is it better that they wouldn't remember you? Or would you prefer to have to explain all of the history, everything they might have missed?"

She smiles, but leaves the first question unanswered.

"Good point." Gwen surmises that means Buffy exists sometime after the witch's time. She can't help but be curious. "Willow knew a couple of my...acquaintances. Band of do-gooders in L.A. Their gang was headed by a vampire with a serious hero complex. Sound familiar?"

"Angel? Yeah, I've run into him once or twice."

The sarcasm is heavy in that one.

"Popular guy," she deadpans, thinking that if he had the whole world in his back pocket, one of them a self-proclaimed powerful witch, maybe he could have enlisted a little bit of help when Los Angeles went to hell.

"Despite his best efforts, I guarantee you. If he's anything like the Angel I knew."

"People love a hero," she says, smiling wryly. "Especially the tall, dark and handsome ones. Makes the girls go weak in the knees."

Oh, she can relate to that. Tall, dark, not-as-tall, more blonde than dark... Buffy drags herself away from that real fast.

"Isn't that part of the job description of a hero? Leap tall buildings, make the local ladies swoon?"

"So I hear. Your friend Angel had all of the above down pat."

"Yeah, he does. Did. We, um, we dated for awhile. I don't know if he ever mentioned me, at all?"

Not entirely clear whether she wants that or not.

Of course they did. My, did Angel get around all the pretty girls. She likes this one better than Cordelia...not to speak ill of the dead.

"Once or twice," she lies, just to see her reaction. "He was preoccupied. Apocalypses. Leading his band of Superheroes. You must be something." She pauses, looking at Buffy. "I don't think anymore than one or two girls really got in that boy's heart."

"Figures. He always got a little distracted by the big stuff." Buffy's looking down and fiddling with a glass, looking a little unhappy.

"At one time, I thought we'd be together forever. Storybook romance and all that. Obviously that didn't really work out."

"Might've been for the best," says Gwen, no longer treading carefully. Alcohol does that. This will definitely be her last one. "The girls around him didn't seem to have the best of luck."

She refrains from saying 'dropped like flies,' at least. That's something.

Buffy raises a questioning eyebrow at this.

"I at least have a built-in excuse for tempting fate. Did you and he..." She makes a sort of back-and-forth motion with her hands, which could mean any number of things.

She totally lets Buffy go on with the gestures for a few seconds, out of pure entertainment. "What," she asks, amused, "do the hand jive?"

"No. I mean, there was that thing in the elevator--" She shakes her head. How to explain that? Apparently Gwen's going to try, and she has the alcohol to thank for that. "I had a thing with his...son. It's--not as creepy as it sounds, I promise. He was full grown. My age, I mean. He was a...a sweet kid. I--did you know him?"

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[location: Dodgy Jammer] [open] Baby's at the punch bowl with a glass for you to fill

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