Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 2

[madimpossibledreamer]

Again, if anyone's reading this (who am I kidding, they're probably reading on AO3 if they're reading at all) I repeat: what should my updating schedule look like?  Do people prefer to have a lot at the beginning, or would they prefer a more spread out schedule to prevent much in the way of interrupted updating?

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Xander has bizarre dreams.
Word Count: 1310
Rating: K
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.  READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

            "Feel the cheese.  Be the cheese."

            "I don't want to be cheese," he responds, before the question of what exactly is going on pops into his head.  He opens his eye to see that one guy with the cheese, glasses and all, in the middle of examining his head to try to figure out exactly what arrangement of American cheese slices would best match his complexion, or something, and instantly he backs up, hands getting a little dirty on the floor.

            "A-actually, I'd rather know what's going on."  He pauses.  "If I stand up and suddenly I'm on a world on fire and there's a wizard guy talking to me, I'll really know I've cracked."

            The guy examines him thoughtfully, then shakes his head.  "Some people don't appreciate cheese."  And suddenly, he's gone.

            "Strange guy," he remarks.  To his relief, it's not Daltron 7.  Of course, that means that he has to actually work out where here is and what he's doing here.  It resembles…well, nothingness, to be honest.  Is this limbo?  If so, how did he get here, because the last thing he remembers…

            What is the last thing he remembers, anyway?  Before waking up in this weird place.

            "I'm not hyperventilating.  I'm not hyperventilating."  He pauses.  "I'm not."

            Then he realizes while he's been concentrating on not panicking—

            yeah that little lie it doesn't mean much

            the surroundings have been gaining solidity, like colors running together if you mess around with paint, watercolor paint, except there's no yucky mess at the end

            It's one of those Japanese places, he's standing outside, at the garden, and his feet are bare.  It feels nice, and a few petals—sakura, his mind corrects him, even though what—

            The smell.  Peaceful.  He's safe here, safer than he's been in a while, but it's necessary, he needs to be here, he needs

            The door.  He needs to open the door.  He pauses, takes a deep breath, because it'll change

            Just for a second, it's not a door, it's a mirror, and he can see his reflection flickering like ripples in really clear pond before

            Someone took the etch-a-sketch and started shaking it violently.  At first, he just watches in pained shock as everything begins to move, because it's so pretty, who would do

            Xander.  Xander, are you

            this, it's

            Xander!  Wetness, splashing on his cheek.

            he starts to flop around too, suddenly he's just a rag doll or a marionette being flung around in a little doll's house

            Xander!

            he falls

            and his eyes spring open to see Willow, staring at him with tears in her eyes.  Instantly, he frowns, because that's not a good look on her.  "I warned you that Old Yeller dies in that movie," he tries to joke weakly, but as he's saying realizes it's nowhere near his best material.  Still, she basically smothers him.

            "Don't do that, Xander," she scolds him, and her voice cracks.  It might be ice cream time, but he won't complain if he can snag some too.

            "What, joke around?"  She smiles.  It's a wavery, watery smile, but it's real, and that's what matters.  "No, seriously, Wils, I've got no idea what I did."

            "You basically collapsed.  Giles had to use a spell to make sure that you actually slept for a bit, and then we made you a charm bag.  But then you weren't coming out and we thought you were in a coma and I was really scared.  Giles has been frantically calling people so at least he had something to do but all I could do was stare at your face and wonder whether or not you'd actually ever wake up and you really, really scared me, you jerk."  Somehow, Willow's talking faster than she usually does, which is kind of impressive.  She's a bit hysterical, then.

            "Sorry about that."  He paused.  "I feel better now, though.  Thanks."

            "How can I be mad at you when you're apologizing and thanking me?"  He's tempted to grin and apologize again, just for the sake of irony, but instead he opens his arms, and Willow basically jumps into the comforting hug that he's gotten really, really good at. 

            It's kind of nice, honestly, in a really weird way, because lately Willow's been so busy doing Slayer Organization stuff and he's been in Africa, and his little Willow's all growed up, so a lot of the time it doesn't even feel like she really needs him anymore.  She's crying into his left shoulder, which itches a little.  Still, she's overreacting a little.  Does it have anything to do with what they'd called him back for in the first place?  He hadn't really questioned it before now, but it'd occurred to him and wasn't going away.

            "By the way, favorite witch of mine, do you happen to know why I was called back from Africa?  I figured it was all part of The Plan of The White Wizards, but no one's asked me to do anything and I'm feeling a little...un-busy."  The dreams don't help.  They'd changed from the Anya's Death Reruns, but he couldn't really say this channel was much of an improvement.  And if all he has left to do is engage in staring contests with an admittedly sinister stone mask that he doesn't trust an inch...well, he's probably losing what is left of his sanity in short order.

            She hits his shoulder, lightly, but he still mock-winces in response.  "With everything that's been going on with you, you expect us to send you somewhere you could die?"

            He had to shrug to that.  He couldn't argue with that part.

            "And you've got a lot of shows to catch up on so we can talk about them for hours and hours.  You've been in Africa for a long time, Xander, and I missed you."  With the playful frown, Willow was clearly trying to lighten the mood.  A ploy that he recognized very well from familiarity.  He'd used it probably more times than he could even remember.

            She's not directly lying to him.  She's not good enough at that sort of thing to be able to pull it off.  Especially to him.  He knows her too well.  Both of her responses are the truth.

            But if she's not redirecting as much as she possibly can, he's Captain Kirk.

            He doesn't want to let her know that he's noticed, though.  He plasters on the goofy smile and throws off a salute that even the very lingering remains of the soldier can't fault, along with a professional "Yes ma'am!"

            She giggles, but doesn't immediately move.  Her conscience is tearing at her, which immediately throws even more fuel on his curiosity raging within.  Eventually she speaks again.  "I'm not sure exactly why you were brought back, but I'm trying to get Giles to explain it all to me."

            Each word is carefully chosen, enunciated in an odd way that tells she's put a ton of thought into this.  He hugs her again and waves as she makes her way out of the Slayer's infirmary, keeping up the goofy smile just long enough so she doesn't see his skepticism.  The second she's gone, he falls back on the bed with a huff of breath, strangely again wide awake.  Part of him wants to scoff at everything she just said, call it all a lie, ask her to come back and explain herself, but that would just cause her unnecessary trauma.  She thinks she got away with it, and he's willing to let her keep believing that.  And given her word choice, it wasn't really a lie, anyway.  A careful truth, disguising the truth, maybe.  Truth masquerading as truth.  Genius.  Nobody would suspect.  Expect him, apparently.  Still, though, he's going to have to do a little digging on his own.  Anything that big, as Spike kept insisting, wasn't anything good.