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Library - 2/7

Isabel walked into the library and immediately found herself surrounded by every chair in the room. All looking for attention. Rolling her eyes, she made her way to the main counter and sat up on it, out of reach while she finished her coffee.

It was going to be one of those kind of days.

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"How were you to know? People can change their minds," Isabel shrugged. She used her powers to send the paper skittering away from Otto. "I know, I talked to them and I've been trying to research. But I'm not coming up with any answers besides the obvious."

Anders sighed and watched Otto go haring off after the paper. "To which all I can say is, this sucks."

[OOC: And now I shut down and go home, whee!]

"Beyond sucks," she agreed. "I'm not ready to lose another friend."

Anders closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, me neither. Even if it would almost make things simpler, that way. What does it mean when you'd rather pick the complicated option?"

Isabel bumped against his shoulder. "It means your friends are important enough to you that you can deal with any embarrassment or whatever as long as it means they're safe."

"Huh." Anders mulled that over while he watched Otto bump repeatedly into the legs of a slightly fractious chair in its attempts to get to the ball of paper that had ended up underneath the chair. "Guess that makes me a little bit less of a jerk then, huh?"

"You were never a jerk," Isabel said firmly. "And if you argue with me, I'm pushing you off the counter and letting Otto maul you."

"Death by furniture? What a way to go," Anders said sorrowfully. He wasn't quite convinced of her words, but he nodded and said, "No arguments from me, then. You're okay, right? No weird aftereffects or horrible lasting trauma from the spell or anything?"

"It was a ferocious piece of furniture?" she offered. Although ferocious wasn't really word that could be applied to Otto. Friendly and fun-loving might be more appropriate.

"I'm fine. I was more frustrated then anything else."

"Good," Anders said. "Not that you were frustrated, just . . . good that you're okay other than that."

"Honestly? That was all Parker," Isabel admitted. "She started talking and somehow managed to convince him that more bodies on the pile would be a bad thing. If she hadn't been there. I'd probably be dead."

"That makes two of us," Anders said quietly. "He tried to come back for me, take me to Hell. If Parker and Bridge hadn't gotten there in time . . ."

"He did? When? Christ Anders. Now I get why Bridge wants someone with you. But he didn't hurt you?" she asked, turning to check him for injuries.

Anders smiled tightly. "Physically, I'm just fine."

"But emotionally he pushed every button you had and left you a battered mess?" Isabel guessed.

"Here comes the pitch, and she swings, and it's a high drive and it's outta here!"

The euphemism was somehow easier than just saying yes.

"I wish it could have been a strike-out. At the bottom of the ninth. With the game winning run on base." Isabel was more then willing to talk in metaphors if it meant Anders kept talking. It couldn't be healthy to keep everything inside. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Anders leaned over and nudged her lightly. "Right now, this is plenty of help. Just promise not to whap me if I come by and be emo? For a little while, anyway. Then you can whap me if I don't stop."

"Good. And no whapping, thwapping or otherwise bopping you over the head for the immediate future," she agreed. "But at some point, all bets will be off."

Isabel dangled her legs over the side of the counter, a move that immediately attracted Otto's attention. "You know, as far as being non-emo, we're going to have Game Night Saturday night. You could come by and hang out."

"At some point I expect you to bench my ass if I keep up the emo," Anders replied, poking one foot out to sort of pet Otto. "I could maybe do that, if I don't have other plans. I'll at least drop by and say hi, how's that?"

"Yup, bench you and let the newbie just in from the farm team play," Isabel said seriously. "Think of what the sports writers would say!"

"You do what works best for you. Just know that you'd be welcome. And I have a feeling it's going to be very, very amusing."

"I'd spend the rest of my career as the player to be named later, and the newbie would go on to win Rookie of the Year," Anders replied just as seriously. "We can't have that."

He scritched Otto with his toes and quirked an eyebrow. "Amusing, huh? I could use the laughs. I'll be there."

"Nope. And good. I'll save you a spot on the couch," she promised. Bumping gently against his shoulder, Isabel smiled. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

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