Late nights hadn't been uncommon for either of them, but neither seemed ready for the Academy to completely disregard the needs of the modern Vampire Slayer & Co. Tired and ready for bed, Buffy and Xander had turned to the bathroom in the basement in order to wash off the dirt and grime and mud involved with capturing and killing absolutely no vampires. It wasn't the first time, it won't be the last.
Xander, of course, couldn't keep himself from grumbling as he attempted to use a thin paper towel to wipe away some spots from his new pair of sneakers; they had to last him the whole year.
"You know," he said, looking back over his shoulder in Summers' direction, "if I would have known we had to patrol the football field, I would have volunteered for sod duty." He tossed away the towel and added, "This better be mud and not something worse." No one liked having to go to class smelling like crap. Harris was just about to say as much when the cacophony of closing shutters and emergency noise drew his attention.
"What's that?" Xander stood and turned to see the door closed and sealed. "Hey, we're stuck! Buffy, quick, the door!"
OTA:
Some time later, after very nearly digging out of the basement, Xander and Buffy find themselves split and on their own, maybe on purpose, maybe not. In any case, Xander's trying to make his way toward the central computer, likely seeking out Wheatley, who seems like the type of person who might understand what the computer systems are doing.
He'll pass by the cafeteria, and end up outside, at one point, half-panicked by this alarming series of events, and half-bravado because, haha, they're not going to kill their own students, right? No one signed a waver that indemnified the school in the event of their untimely demise, at least as far as he can remember. But, then again, he can't exactly recall the last time his parents paid attention to anything but themselves, either...
"If I survive this, I'm getting myself a lawyer," he says to no one in particular, as if it's a credible threat and something he can afford. He presses his back against a wall to avoid a SHIELD bot somewhere down the hall and rolls his eyes up to glare at the ceiling. Why can nothing ever be easy?
Xander Harris | Basement Bathroom & Beyond
Late nights hadn't been uncommon for either of them, but neither seemed ready for the Academy to completely disregard the needs of the modern Vampire Slayer & Co. Tired and ready for bed, Buffy and Xander had turned to the bathroom in the basement in order to wash off the dirt and grime and mud involved with capturing and killing absolutely no vampires. It wasn't the first time, it won't be the last.
Xander, of course, couldn't keep himself from grumbling as he attempted to use a thin paper towel to wipe away some spots from his new pair of sneakers; they had to last him the whole year.
"You know," he said, looking back over his shoulder in Summers' direction, "if I would have known we had to patrol the football field, I would have volunteered for sod duty." He tossed away the towel and added, "This better be mud and not something worse." No one liked having to go to class smelling like crap. Harris was just about to say as much when the cacophony of closing shutters and emergency noise drew his attention.
"What's that?" Xander stood and turned to see the door closed and sealed. "Hey, we're stuck! Buffy, quick, the door!"
OTA:
Some time later, after very nearly digging out of the basement, Xander and Buffy find themselves split and on their own, maybe on purpose, maybe not. In any case, Xander's trying to make his way toward the central computer, likely seeking out Wheatley, who seems like the type of person who might understand what the computer systems are doing.
He'll pass by the cafeteria, and end up outside, at one point, half-panicked by this alarming series of events, and half-bravado because, haha, they're not going to kill their own students, right? No one signed a waver that indemnified the school in the event of their untimely demise, at least as far as he can remember. But, then again, he can't exactly recall the last time his parents paid attention to anything but themselves, either...
"If I survive this, I'm getting myself a lawyer," he says to no one in particular, as if it's a credible threat and something he can afford. He presses his back against a wall to avoid a SHIELD bot somewhere down the hall and rolls his eyes up to glare at the ceiling. Why can nothing ever be easy?