MCA #0. Tuesday Night.

[needsaparrot]

Xander was expecting to have to deal with all kinds of fallout from this weekend; he knew minor property damage was likely to be the least of his worries. What he wasn't expecting was that it would somehow end up being his broken door he was currently fixing. Diligently. With every tool in his travel case, now moved out of his former room at the Arms, spread across the floor in front of the glass doors, just in case he might need them.

Trying to occupy himself so he didn't leave yet another voice-mail message, or start thinking too hard about why he hadn't had a response to any of them? Or thinking too hard about anything, really?

Why no.
___
[OOC: For do we really need to say? Why no.]

Comments

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

After talking with Rory and then Marie, Bridge has finally steeled up the courage to go talk to Xander. So here he is. Knocking at the door.

[needsaparrot]

Xander looked over his shoulder from from the area that was either a living room or a den or... some other room no apartment he'd ever lived in was big enough to possess. There was a short list of people he knew who would know he was here, but it could be a tenant -- how the hell could he have tenants -- too.

"Coming," he shouted, and walked over, hammer still in one hand, to pull open the lobby-side door.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

And as soon as the door opens wide enough to let him? That'd be Bridge, latching on to Xander.

[needsaparrot]

That'd be Xander...um.

Not breathing for a second, and it'd be a hard guess whether it was because Bridge was squeezing the air out of him or just because he'd forgotten how to make use of it.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

And all the worry that had been floating around in the back of his mind about maybe Xander wasn't really here, and if he was, maybe he was a different *version* of Xander vanish as soon he's actually, really touching him. Even with his gloves on, he'd know that presence *anywhere*.

Which is why his current thought process could be ever-so-eloquently summed up as: Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.

[needsaparrot]

He knew, he really did, but dammit, somebody somewhere owed him this much. That for one minute, Xander could let it be what it was supposed to be when he was nineteen years old and couldn't sleep at night for wishing. That he could smell the same shampoo, feel the skritch under his fingertips of that superfuturepolyblend uniform that still can't manage not to be itchy, and rest his chin on Bridge's head and just be here.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Hi," Bridge says, not letting go.

[needsaparrot]

The voice was the same too, the same way it'd been on the one voicemail he'd had for the last six years, and the handful he'd listened to in the past few days. Unchanged from when Xander left.

Which finally let him take another breath, because...he wasn't. Thanks, he mouthed at... whoever. And also, y'know, frak you, for giving me one. more. chance. to fuck this up. And thanks.

Then he said, "Hi," and gently pulled himself back.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"You're really here," Bridge says, not quite able to keep the wonder out of his voice.

[needsaparrot]

"You're about where I was a week ago." Xander smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm still ending it with a question mark every third time I think it."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Sorry you got dumped headfirst in to craziness right after you got back," Bridge says. Yes, he's apologizing for being kidnapped. And for the weekend.

[needsaparrot]

"It's Fandom." Which...was a couple hundred replies rolled into one. "I'm sorry for--"

That was a couple thousand, but Xander opened the door wider and waved the hammer, still clutched in one hand, towards the broken patio glass, for the most immediate one. And yes, he was apologizing for the weekend too, despite telling Rory it wasn't their fault, and meaning it.

He glanced down. "I kinda was wondering if you didn't want to talk to me after that."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"...Why would you think that?" Bridge asks, confused.

[needsaparrot]

"Because I almost...eeggghhsh?" Xander raised both eyebrows, though only one was really visible. "I left you about half a million voicemails or possibly five and didn't hear anything back, so..."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"My phone's kind of... in pieces, thanks to Gruumm," Bridge says. "Haven't had time to build a new one yet, what with... everything. So I didn't even *know* I had messages."

[needsaparrot]

"A few, yeah." Xander shook his head and stepped aside, waving Bridge inside. "Sorry it's spammy. Was just...worried."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Thank you, by the way," he says quietly after he's inside the apartment. "For being there, on Thursday."

[needsaparrot]

"Like I'd have missed that?" Except he'd been away for a while, even looking at it from the other side of the mirror. And as far as they knew, he realized, he might be a complete stranger by now. He looked... well, yeah. Something Bridge hadn't remarked on yet and Xander wasn't sure if he was grateful for that or not.

"I haven't changed that much," he said gently, gesturing Bridge towards a couch.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"But you *have* changed," Bridge remarks quietly. "Dawn told me- she told me what happened to the Xander from her universe."

[needsaparrot]

"I really need to talk to her. Compare history notes, now that it's history for both of us." Xander set the hammer down on the coffee table and sat against the arm of the chair nearest the couch. He looked at Bridge and adjusted the string of his patch. "It's good you knew before you got here, though. Sorry I didn't say anything about it in my e-mails; bigger things going on when it happened, and then later... well, it didn't seem like it mattered so much, unless you were gonna see me again."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"I haven't checked my e-mail yet either," Bridge admits sheepishly, trying to keep the guilt he feels at the mention of seeing Xander again from showing on his face.

[needsaparrot]

Oh, wow was he coming into this conversation empty-handed, then. Xander winced. "You might want to; from what I hear, everything I sent while I was gone suddenly showed up once I got back. Let's just say the Viagra ads are probably bouncing out of your inbox right now."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Does that mean you got the ones I sent, too?" Bridge asks. "When you crossed over the... barrier or whatever?"

[needsaparrot]

"I think what happened is we caught up with Fandom." It'd be nice to believe that - that it would stay even now, and not cut things off again. "Because it's the same time back there as it is here, now. When I say your inbox go splodey I'm talking grenade, not shook-up can of pop. Lot longer from my end." Not that that wasn't visibly obvious.

Xander shifted to rest his arms on his knees, and nodded. "And yeah, I got yours, when I got here. And the voicemails." He realized, or thought he did, where Bridge might be going with that, and Xander beyond owed it to him to spare him the awkward part, especially after this weekend. He smiled. "I got the ones about Rory."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Um, yeah," Bridge says, running a hand through his hair. "About that? We kind of- we actually broke up, earlier today."