fandomhighdorms | Sunday Evening - Fifth Floor Common Room

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Sunday Evening - Fifth Floor Common Room

Peter was sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in front of him and a box of cookies from J. GOB. He'd found some Coca-Cola (and still couldn't get over the fact it came in cans now) and was flipping through the channels on the TV.

Oooh, war movie. That looked interesting. The planes looked familiar too. Peter sat forward in his seat as the title rolled. Rescuing Corproral Smith? Did they make movies about World War II now?

OOC: open for all of course but especially saltandammo

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"Don't worry too much about it," Dean told her. "If we get busted you can just say us other floor infiltrators dragged you here against your will."

"That's what Jamie suggested," Willow said. "Though he said he'd pretend to have threatened wee tiny bunnies and I say leave the bunnies alone, even if they are imaginary."

"They're not imaginary," Xander said. "Though we still haven't established whether they were really bunnies or were in fact wee tiny snowmonsters in bunny suits."

"Why would snowmonsters wear bunny suits? Wouldn't they melt?"

"Temperature-controlled suits," Bridge says solemnly.

"Temperature-controlled suits would work. Can't much see monsters having the technology though," Peter replied, equally deadpan.

"You'd be surprised at what some monsters can do," Dean put in. "Though I haven't run into anything that dresses up as tiny bunnies. Yet."

"It certainly could be a way to infiltrate our defences for the next major snow monster attack. As Willow illustrates, who's going to harm the tiny bunnies?"

"If they're evil bunnies, I'd smoke their asses no problem." Dean glanced at Willow. "No offence."

"Or really even neutral bunnies who are spying for an evil attacker. Spies don't get much quarter."

"Maybe the bunny suits were refridgerated?" Dean suggested. "And, for the record, I can't believe this is an actual conversation I'm having."

Xander looked back and forth from Bridge to the guy who... probably wasn't Alec, since the hair and clothes were different.

"Which one of you am I dating again?"

"Considering we haven't even officially met yet, I think it's safe to say it's not me." Dean grinned. "Unless this place is even weirder than advertised."

"It is, but I'm still actually pretty sure it's him." Xander grinned. "I'm also Xander." He offered his hand.

Dean shook Xander's hand. "Dean. No relation to Alec if you've met him and are wondering."

Xander grinned. "I did, but the sad fact of a year in Fandom is I wasn't. Around here the weird sitch is when people who look alike actually are related."

"We haven't actually figured out yet for sure if we are related or not," Dean offered. "Though if we are, it's in a 'don't know what the hell they did with my DNA' thing."

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soldtoarmenians - 2006-05-15 03:52 (UTC) - Expand

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"They were imaginary in my conversation with Jamie," Willow said. "As they were only wee tiny bunnies of theory. Unless he really does have some being held hostage, in which case he's up for a very stern talking to."

"Ah. I see your distinction, and I raise you an admission that the whole snowmonsters in suits thing, also theory. With no particular reason for existing other than I was nervous and needed something to textmessage besides 'oh em gee doubleyew tee eff did I really ask you out last night?'"

"You didn't text me anything last night," Willow said.

Xander had a feeling he was heading back into Excedrin territory, but forged gamely ahead. "Uhm, no. I meant I kind of, er. Asked Bridge out by textmessage. In the first place. Followed the next morning by random inane babbling about bunnysuits. As you do."

"Ohhhh," Willow said. "Actually I probably would've worn the bunny suit. Because then you have an entire cute factor going for you, plus a good chance at a healthy dose of pity."

Xander stared at her for a second, then burst into giggles. As you do. Because Willow, and yeah, it really was Willow, even if it wasn't.

After another second, he snorted and said, "So noted for future reference. Though in this case since he was in Delaware and I was here, I'd mostly have been wasting the cute on my frog."

"...on your what?"

Xander blinked. Then realized this Willow hadn't exactly been conditioned into accepting Jeremiah via Buffy repeatedly taking him out of his tank, putting a tiny paper pilgrim hat on him, and letting him hop up and down the Thanksgiving table while Giles looked on in dismay.

"Frog?" he answered innocently. "Cute, small, harmless purple frog?"