soldtoarmenians

From: xharris@ucsd.edu
To: m.parker@fandomhigh.net, bridge.carson@fandomhigh.net

( Dear Parker and Bridge: )
__

The Magic Box, afternoon

Xander could hear the sound of the punching bag getting pummeled the minute he walked in the front door to the shop, which meant wow was somebody -- had to be Faith or Buffy -- hitting it hard. Like hard enough to collapse the frame if somebody wasn't holding it for her, whichever her it was.

"Hey, I'll vouch for the craftsmanship on that thing since I was crafty guy," he said as he pushed the door to the training room open, "but I didn't make it out of titantium or anything."

( Buffy just grunted in greeting and punched the bag again. )

[OOC: Preplayed with 1ordinarygirl for great yay. No IC interaction, yaddayadda-bingbang, OOC quite welcome.]

From: xharris@ucsd.edu
To: bridge.carson@fandomhigh.net

( Dear Bridge: )
__

The Magic Box, evening

Xander found the Closed sign already up but the door unlocked, neither of which was unusual; what was a little off were the half-dimmed lights and the fact that there was nobody out front. It was Willow's night on the register; he'd have expected her to be tallying up the receipts or at least putting books away while a couple of brooms did a slightly unnerving re-enactment of the Magician's Assistant cartoon.

( Anybody home? )
__

[OOC: Cliffhanger whaa? *looks innocent* Third preplayed verse, same as the first. But not the First. That's next season. Tara courtesy, again, mparker17.]

People didn't really patrol with Faith, they'd quickly found out. At least people who weren't Buffy; Xander had remembered them working as a team. For a while. With the Scoobies, though, it was more like, "Do what you're good at, stay out of my way, and I'll try not to hit you in the crossfire."

Which they were usually more than happy to oblige her on; Xander hadn't been exaggerating about her warm welcome in Sunnydale, though maybe you could stretch 'Good Cop' to include Larry, who was baggage-free but smart enough to listen to her for his own self-preservation. Willow and Dawn barely spoke to Faith except when necessary, Giles and Tara at least tried to be polite, Spike...was Spike.

There was always someone out there near her, though. 'Backup' was the word they all used, but 'parole officer' was what Faith said when she rolled her eyes at him for looking sheepish about it. "Hey, you people want to make sure I don't decide evil has a better retirement plan, I can't exactly blame you." Saying he really wasn't all that worried about that anymore got Xander another eyeroll, so he just kept his mouth as shut as he was genetically able to, aka hahahaha yeahright, and ducked when she said duck. It wasn't perfect, but it worked.

Usually they walked straight back to the apartment after, or drove if he'd left the car at the Magic Box. Tonight, though, maybe because it'd been an especially long day at the construction site, or maybe it was that accounting book on his desk that Xander really didn't feel like banging his head against, he glanced down the street towards the little bar on the corner and said, "Beer?"

( And here they were. )

[Cut for longness omg. Preplayed with endless thanks to my Faith-megazord, bridge_carson and mparker17. No interaction possible, obviously, but OOC is quite welcome.]

From: xharris@ucsd.edu

( Dear Bridge, Parker, *Peter* Parker, Isabel, Willow, and Dawn: )

( Dear Bridge, Parker, Callisto and Isabel: )

From: xharris@ucsd.edu
( Dear Bridge, Parker, and Isabel: )
__

[OOC: Preplayed with people currently living on Xander's couch.]

From: xharris@ucsd.edu
( Dear Bridge, Parker, and Isabel: )