milliways_bar | (no subject)

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*There's the sound of gunshots coming from out back - but don't worry, it's just the ballerina.

- okay, maybe that's cause for a little worry. But she's doing quite well at hitting the log that's her target. You might even say she's improving. After all, she's not going to get a chance to practice anything other than dance for a while, so she's getting her shots in while she can.*

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Well, heck. Xander's in a good mood today.

"Ask away, Meggo."

*Meg grins.*

Well - okay, so I'm going away for a bit, on tour in Paris. And while I'm gone Andrew's going home, because, you know, has to go sooner or later - and neither of us knows exactly when we'll be back Millitime, so I just wanted to ask -

*She hesitates.* If he gets back first, could you kind of look out for him? It's the longest I'll have been gone since I came, really, and -

Xander smiles.

"Don't want him pining for the fjords, huh?" Pause. "The fjords of, you know, you."

Not that Meg is a geological formation. Xander would never want to imply that.

Well, that, *Meg says practically,* and, you know, last time we were separated for a long period of time he got into all kinds of trouble like raising people from the dead, and while it all worked out okay that time, I'd rather he didn't start doing that again, since it's kind of unsettling.

- also, I hate to say it, but my fjords really aren't that impressive.

Xander blinks.

"Okay, wait, I think I had something in my ear, because I swear you just said 'raising people from the dead.' But I know that can't be right."

Pause.

Well, only one person, *Meg says earnestly, and then stops.*

okay, that was actually the second person. Er.

"See, this? Is not filling me with confidence."

He fixes Meg with a dabbling-in-the-occult-is-DANGEROUS glare and says, "Okay, Flutter, spill it. Where are the ex-cadavers?"

It was only Warren and Jonathan, *Meg says, sheepishly,* and they're fitting back into society awfully well -

...

"They came back to life and they didn't tell me?"

Well, wait.

Warren and Jonathan.

Right.

"... Well, uh, they aren't gibbering morons. Not any more so than usual, you know."

Pause.

"Don't beat yourself up about your fjords, Meg-- er, your shallow rocky inclines, I mean. Uh."

- well, they're back to life, now, so they're not around as much to tell you, *Meg points out, reasonably.*

And I'm not beating myself up about it - they're very well-shaped shallow rocky inclines. Just, you know, small ones.

"I'm alive, and I spend all my time here," Xander shoots back. "At least somebody could've said something. Left a post-it note, even. I don't ask for a lot."

He eyes Meg. Her, you know, eyes.

"Oh, uh ... right. Yes. Well-shaped. Like ... statues."

. . . I think this metaphor is getting out of hand, *Meg says firmly, and adds,* well, they're unbound-alive, which is a little different.

- what's a post-it note?

"Post-it note!" Xander says, seizing upon the sanity. "Right! It's a little piece of paper that is sticky. You peel it off and write 'Walk the dog' and stick it on the fridge, and then it gets ignored until later, when the dog goes stir-crazy and starts eating the cushions."

. . . it doesn't sound terribly useful, *Meg says, rather dubiously.* At least if you like your cushions. And your dog.

He sighs.

"Like many things in modern society, it has become useless through human incompetence."

Pause.

"Speaking of which, guess who got lucky? With a woman?"

Take THAT, loafers.

*Meg considers.*

- Ron? *she guesses.*

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