A Nice Little Chat

I wrote this way before the other chapters.  The 'going through experiencing from different points of view'/somewhat nonsensical dreamscape I feel works better, which means this chapter's utterly out of place, so it's being filed under the 'abandoned attempts' column.  We'll see if I keep anything for it in the rewrite.
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Iron Man Crossover (Self-Made Hero)
Summary: slated to be the next chapter until it was abandoned by a park bench
Word Count: 290
Rating: Gen

          “Hey, you’re my age!”  The next one is a teen, pumping his hand enthusiastically.  It’s interesting that they’ve actually sort-of-physically appeared.  It probably means that it’s actually working and they’re stitching themselves together and becoming more substantial and stuff.
          “Careful, I’m still a little fragile,” Xander jokes, and instantly Tony’s sitting them down, looking worried.  And, hey, it’s already working, because he feels less like he’s dying and more like it’s your average ‘I wanna die’ migraine, and he’s already absorbing stuff.  Like, the second he says ‘fragile’, that translates to ‘brittle’, and suddenly his mind is adjusting to all the ways to strengthen brittle materials like metals and plastics.  It hurts and it’s a lot of information but he’s actually slowly processing it now.
          “This is kind of fascinating,” Tony admits.  “So…there’s a version of me with magic.  And he’s stabilizing this so we don’t go boom.”
          Xander shrugs.  Carefully, so as not to upset the headache and make it seek revenge again.  (Like Maggia.  Like Mandarin.  Like Obi—Stane, I mean.)  “That, or I’m insane, ish, and you’re all figments of my imagination and I’m the one actually doing the magic and talking to myself.”
          Tony looks hurt, but then he doesn’t care for the thought, either.
          He smiles.  It looks like one of Tony’s smiles.  “For the sake of sanity, I’m going with ‘you are all real’.  Makes me feel less pathetic.  I don’t need to be the idiot kid with the imaginary friends.  Or the schizo.  Take your pick.”
          “You’d be a genius kid, but yeah.  Because Mrs. Rhodes would yell at me about manners, let’s assume we both exist.”  Tony’s patting his arm, and grins back at the hesitant smile he gets at his words.