stilljustandrew (
stilljustandrew) wrote2013-07-20 10:46 pm
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best be gone from here by dark
They're up at first light, huddling in their sleeping bags against the lingering chill, drinking coffee and eating breakfast bars, not talking much. By the time they're done, the air has warmed; the locator spell is still glowing underneath the dig site, and they pick up work where they left off.
It's just past noon when their shovels first start turning up things that Andrew thinks he recognizes: fragments of rotting fabric in familiar patterns, pieces of wood that might have once been furniture in Buffy's house.
Jonathan's shovel strikes metal, and a shaft of brilliant light shoots up from under the dirt.
It's just past noon when their shovels first start turning up things that Andrew thinks he recognizes: fragments of rotting fabric in familiar patterns, pieces of wood that might have once been furniture in Buffy's house.
Jonathan's shovel strikes metal, and a shaft of brilliant light shoots up from under the dirt.
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"Found it. Or at least part of it, can't tell yet."
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"Okay, let's --" Stepping closer. "Let's try and get the rest of it uncovered by hand."
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Slowly the two of them push away the gravel and dirt, the bits of decaying wood and rusting wire and undying plastic.
Under Andrew's glove, a bit of carved metal gleams.
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"That's it," he breathes, almost soundlessly. "That's --"
His hands start moving again, swiftly, shoveling more dirt aside.
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And then reaches out, very gingerly, and picks it up by the flat of the blade.
"Have we got anything to wrap this in?"
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He backs away a few paces, and sets the knife down again on top of the battered microwave casing they unearthed an hour ago. And suppresses the urge to wipe his gloved hand against his jeans.
"You go get it, I'll start packing up the shovels?"
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Andrew's just as happy to have the layer of fabric in between themselves and it.
Mumbled: "D'you want me to get it, or ...?"
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A pause.
"You wanna say it or should I?"
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"Let's go home."
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Packing up all their gear, climbing back out of the crater, and reloading the car takes the better part of another two hours. It's afternoon by the time they're on the road back to LA, and Andrew spends the first half-hour of the car trip arranging their plane tickets home; miraculously, there are still seats available on tonight's red-eye to New York.
"Okay," he says, looking up, "got em."
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The road scrolls out ahead of them, open and empty in both directions. There'll be more traffic the farther they get from what used to be Sunnydale, he knows; and once they get off the road, they won't have any privacy until they get to New York.
"... listen, there's something I should tell you before we get back to Milliways."
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"Yeah? What have you been up to?"
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"'Up to' is such a harsh way of putting it."
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"I might have ... maybe talked to a couple of people about the chance that I wasn't gonna be coming back."
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"Define 'a couple of people'."
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That's all delivered into his lap, before he bites his lip and turns to meet Jonathan's stare.
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