![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
Weird getting weirder.
Sometimes I wonder how my life would have turned out if I'd stayed in Sunnydale after high school. Would I have ended up being a vamp snack? Or maybe I would have lived to see the town sucked into the giant crater. Seeing Xander and then Buffy the other day reminded me why I'd left. They were such assholes back in high school, always making fun of me. Then Buffy had told me they were from bizarro world where they were nice, the cool sort of do-gooders.
Is it wrong I like them more then the dead versions of Buffy and Xander?
Not like it matters, since they are also sort of crazy and living in a nasty abandoned hotel. Part of me wants to call social services and have them declared mentally incompetent. There isn't really any other way to get them the help they need and don't want. But the idea of them, especially Buffy in a straight jacket is nice, but not really what would help.
Maybe Wes is right, I can't help everyone, just the ones who can ask. Still, there was no way to stop my heart from skipping a beat when Susan told me the guy with the eye patch had come around yesterday looking for me. Maybe that was the sign I needed that he wanted help, he just was afraid to ask.
Still, I couldn't get myself to go back to their hotel, not yet anyway. If he wanted to see me, then he could come back. I had sandwiches to make.
When I served lunch I heard a couple of our regulars talking about the vamps getting kicked down a notch or two down by the docks. They were planning on going down and trying to reclaim their old spots in a warehouse. I told them to wait a night, that I'd go and check it out for them. Larry still had scars from a vamp attack and they said they'd wait.
Maybe Xander and his slayer were already doing some good. Opening the closet in my office I dug around until I found the sword Angel had given me. Pulled it out of its sheath, admiring the shiny. It still looked sharp at least. I knew it would be fine for me to check out the warehouses during the day.
So thats what I'm going to do.
Is it wrong I like them more then the dead versions of Buffy and Xander?
Not like it matters, since they are also sort of crazy and living in a nasty abandoned hotel. Part of me wants to call social services and have them declared mentally incompetent. There isn't really any other way to get them the help they need and don't want. But the idea of them, especially Buffy in a straight jacket is nice, but not really what would help.
Maybe Wes is right, I can't help everyone, just the ones who can ask. Still, there was no way to stop my heart from skipping a beat when Susan told me the guy with the eye patch had come around yesterday looking for me. Maybe that was the sign I needed that he wanted help, he just was afraid to ask.
Still, I couldn't get myself to go back to their hotel, not yet anyway. If he wanted to see me, then he could come back. I had sandwiches to make.
When I served lunch I heard a couple of our regulars talking about the vamps getting kicked down a notch or two down by the docks. They were planning on going down and trying to reclaim their old spots in a warehouse. I told them to wait a night, that I'd go and check it out for them. Larry still had scars from a vamp attack and they said they'd wait.
Maybe Xander and his slayer were already doing some good. Opening the closet in my office I dug around until I found the sword Angel had given me. Pulled it out of its sheath, admiring the shiny. It still looked sharp at least. I knew it would be fine for me to check out the warehouses during the day.
So thats what I'm going to do.