Andrew's notebook

The corridor outside the Security Office isn't the busiest place, usually; not a common spot to run into someone else.

Andrew might be upping the odds a little, though, by dithering indecisively outside it for several minutes.

[From this continuity. Content warning for magically impaired consent and mild-to-moderate smut.]


Getting the okay from Giles wasn't hard at all; after all, he's brought other friends from other worlds to the Council library before. He managed to avoid mentioning that this was a guy he'd only just met, so that worked out all right.

Andrew steps into Milliways, looking about hopefully.

When Sam next comes into Milliways and visits the Bar, he will be given a note (handwritten on ruled paper with torn-out-of-a-spiral-notepad fringe on one edge) that reads as follows:

Sam --

We're back from Sunnydale.

I'm alive. I was never in any danger from Jonathan and I was an idiot to ever think I might be. Just FYI.

-Andrew

Ten years, and nothing's been done about the crater that used to be Sunnydale. By the looks of things, aside from marking the turn-off with DEAD END signs, nothing's even been tried. Maybe some last residual effect of whatever kept people from noticing anything strange was going on there, Andrew thinks. Or maybe somebody who knew exactly what was going on there made the call to leave it alone.



They park the car about a dozen yards back from the edge of the crater and leave it there, the contents of the trunk parceled out between them.

Descending into the pit that used to be a city is part hiking, part scrambling, part abseiling; they leave climbing ropes anchored at the edge and further down, to use on their way back up. The ground levels off once they're past the initial slope, but the footing is still broken and treacherous.

The Library of the New Watchers' Council has a central rotunda, vast and vaulted, lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. It also has a number of smaller side rooms, and a tangle of interconnected corridors and passageways.

Right now one of those smaller rooms has two witches sitting quietly at a table, waiting for the door opposite them to open -- which it shortly does, onto a much noisier room than this place generally permits.

Andrew Wells steps out, and holds the door for his guest.

Blackness.



Two minds, hovering in the blackness; they believe themselves to still have a shape, and so they do.

Andrew's got a table near the Observation Window, a Coke, a plate of fried paradoxes, and an X-Factor trade paperback in a plain brown cover.

(You never know when an actual member of X-Factor might walk in, here.)

It's shaping up to be a pretty okay evening.

He's been spending most of his time at Milliways since he and Sam talked; he's been reluctant to leave at all except to pick up things he needs, afraid of returning and finding that weeks have gone by for Sam in his absence, afraid of being too late again.

Right now he's sitting at a table with a chicken sandwich and a notebook, mumbling pieces of a transcribed incantation with his mouth half full.

It's been dark for hours when they get to the empty warehouse. Andrew's visibly on edge, looking into the shadows and trying to stare in all directions at once, until Jonathan finds the unbolted door that let him out the first time and lets them both in now.

"We're gonna need some light," he says in an undertone as Jonathan closes the door behind them.

There's a vague blur on the screen, jostling as though someone's moving the camera to set it up. It stabilizes and recedes, turning into the faded blue t-shirt of a young man backing away from the camera.

"So, um ... hi, Andrew Prime. The bar downstairs gave me the key to your room. I hope you don't mind me crashing here while you're gone? Ray Stantz says this can happen from time to time, so I think we're cool."

The younger Andrew scratches his head, a bit uneasily.

"They tell me that it's not really predictable how time passes back home while you're here, so I think I better head for home now. I'll try and come back if I can. Meanwhile, uh, I met a few new people, and I ran into some people who know you, and I think I managed to make pretty clear that we're not really the same person? Um, one thing, though ... I might have warned Felix Gaeta about his future. I didn't tell him what was coming, just tipped him off that maybe he shouldn't go on the Demetrius mission. So you shouldn't run into too much trouble there. I hope."

Beat.

"So I guess that's it. Leave me a message if you get back here before I do?" He reaches to turn off the camera, pauses, and adds "This is Andrew Wells, somewhere in the multiverse."

Click. Blank screen.