needsaparrot | MCA #0, Friday evening

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MCA #0, Friday evening

Okay, so despite the whole 'drinking age whut?' aspect of the island which hadn't as far as Xander could tell changed much, he did have a moment of personal 'waitwhatamidoing.' Which resulted in snacks on the coffee table, pizza on the counter, and a choice of soft drinks or Homemade Viper Hooch. Which he did feel vaguely less guilty about when he remembered that it came from a minor in the first place.

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[For Parker and Bridge, NFB.]

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Parker showed up in the early evening, dressed for her not-a-date with Weiss, and knocked on the door. "Hellooooo, Manager-type person. Open up. Potential tenant here."

"No more room at the inn," Xander told her as he opened the door to let her in. "I rented the last apartment out about an hour or so after I got my surprise Harpergram. That wasn't surreal..."

Parker snickered, and bumped him in the side as she walked in, studying the apartment. "I'd say you got a pretty good deal here, aside from the sheer surprise value. Which, granted, is a pretty big factor." She headed over to pour herself a drink, then gave Xander a very sad look. "No space evil?"

"No Bridge, yet." Xander pointed over towards the kitchen. "There's a machine in there that makes food on request, kind of like the one Bridge has? But I'm a little afraid to see what I'd get if I asked it for lavaberry vodka."

"Yeah, I think I'll skip that until he's here to do quality assurance testing." She took a can of pop, turned and grinned at Xander. "God, I still can't believe you're back. Does this mean you're staying? In spite of weekend weirdness, and ... what are you doing in your real life now?"

Xander gingerly opened one of Cally's hooch-jars...and quickly shoved it away from his nose. "Gyaaaaah." He screwed the lid back on again and reached for a Coke. "Maybe later, when I'm braver."

He sat at one end of the couch, and gestured to a chair. "You remember that guy we met in London?"

"There were a couple of them," Parker said, kicking off her shoes and curling up in a chair opposite him. "That guy in the bar, Roger Whathisface-- wait, I got that e-mail! The nerd. With the crush on you." She frowned, trying to remember, then her eyes widened. "He got it right?"

"Well, the building we're in now's a little bigger. But prettymuch yeah."

"Whoa." Parker took a sip of her drink, thinking about that: Xander as Watcher. "So, did you go to Africa, like he was saying? And you and he-- please tell me you still have better taste than that."

And just then there was a dull *thump* noise from the area of the front door.

Because it's hard to knock properly when you're balancing a frog tank *and* a bottle of spacevodka.

"You underestimate the hotness of a man who can name every Mister What assistant and the actor who played them. And tell you which episodes they wore Speedos or Victorian underwear in," Xander teased her as he went to answer the door.

"So obsessive-compulsive disorder along with terminal nerdiness is a turn-on? Hi, Bridge." Parker grinned at this particular juxtaposition.

Yes, she still enjoyed embarassing Xander.

"..." Bridge blinks, and stares first at Parker, then at Xander.

"What?"

"Parker wants to know if I dated the geekiest sorta-Watcher ever. Which I didn't. I sent him a fish though, which is admittedly a marriage proposal in some cul--" Xander stopped and stared. "Hey, frog."

Parker came over to grab the liquid space evil. "Ooo, yay. Hi, Jeremiah. Come on in, space cowboy. We were just discussing past crushes and present plans."

"I see," Bridge says, trying to squash any irrational feelings jealousy at the idea of Xander and dating. *He'd* dated after Xander left, after all. But still. The feeling was there.

"Not a past crush. Just a present co-worker. Which sounds a lot more cubicley than e-mailing somebody from the other side of the world to find out what your next assignment is." Xander reached out to take the frog tank, sort of blinking and peering inside, because...yeah. Wow.

Parker was already pouring herself a small shot glass of lavaberry vodka, as well as ones for Bridge and Xander. "So he's still in London? Still being a schmuck, kind of?" She curled up on one of the chairs again, and took a small sip. "Mmm, yummy. And we do need to talk about Cal, don't we?"

"Slightly de-schmucked." Xander took a glass, set Jeremiah's tank down on the coffee table, and perched on the arm of a chair. "And yeah, we do. The question is what do we do?"

"Go see her. Talk to her. Convince her to go somewhere *else*. Somewhere better."

Sometimes Bridge is a little too optimistic.

"We tried that over New Year's," Parker said, taking a morose sip of her drink. "We'll need to do more than convince her. I'm thinking a tranq gun. And where else are we thinking of? Because that's always been the worst problem."

"Well, my dimension's got a spare Angel, but even though we're not the bestest of bestset buds, somehow I'm thinking it wouldn't be quite fair. 'Hey, would you like an obsessed Greek girl?' "

"Somewhere far away from all Angel-shaped people."

"Seconding," Parker said, finishing her shot of space vodka. "We should probably call and see how she's doing now. She's got to feel incredibly alone right now."

"No," Bridge shakes his head. "As much as I want to. If we call? There's a very good chance she'd run before we got there. I'm not risking that."

"That's part of why I haven't," Xander said. "Didn't think to get the number from Logan at first because I wanted to tell you before I did anything, but when I thought about calling back... yeah." He took a drink and breathed hard, almost coughing, because whoa, had it a been years since he'd had Black Space Evil.

"Okay, so we don't warn her. We do need to warn Logan - he offered me a place to stay; pretty sure that'd be open to you too."

"I've got the number at the hospital, but you're probably both right." Parker looked thoughtful. The Black Space Evil was sloooowly loosening her limbs, and it took more effort than usual to concentrate. "I'm too mad to go with you guys. I read Logan a riot act over the phone, and I'd be liable to take his and Angel's heads off for making the situation worse, if I did go."

"Which might make Cal happy for a little bit, but in the end, probably not helpful."

There was a thumping sound, then a loud crash from the direction of the master bedroom. Xander frowned, set down his drink, and walked back there, disappearing inside.

Rather muffled, his voice could be heard muttering, "I said no. .. don't ...there anymore, 'k? ...perfectly comfy shelf."

"Sorry," he said when he emerged again. "Small, uh... furniture issue."

Parker gave him a what the hell? look as he came back in. "Your furniture is sentient? Or is this Space Evil hitting a lot harder than I expected?"

"Well, there have been issues with things suddenly coming alive these past few days," Bridge points out.

"It's under control," Xander assured them, eye only twitching once toward the bedroom before he sat back down. "So what the hell are we going to do with her when we get to her?"

"Get to her first. Figure that out second." Parker shook her head. "Because damned if I know, all I'm sure of is I need more booze. Pour me another shot, Xander. Maybe it has better ideas than the three of us."

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MCA #0, Friday evening

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