Losing Ground

[its_worthdoing]

[She only has to wake up to know. All the off Willow feels is confirmed by a cursory look around the room. She doesn't linger.

The lingering hurts more.

From three. To two.

Then one.

Despite all the knowing, she makes the brief walk to the room-that-ever-was.

The words are soft and contained]

Jilly's gone. Jilly's gone home.

[And then, before she can think better of it? Or quadruple doubt herself? She filters someone in particular]


She's -- she's gone Billy. I woke up and she was just gone.

Comments

[bro_codebreaker]

You wanna just .... I dunno. ... Get a drink, anyway?

[its_worthdoing]

That might --

[One might not be enough between the two of them]

Could it be two?

[bro_codebreaker]

It can be twenty. You wanna meet me at the Nines? [he figures, since the only people who ever really go there are his friends, they'll be relatively safe with their Feelings About Things if they start coming out]

[its_worthdoing]

[After a moment]

Sure, I can do that. [Even if her tone is still distinctly can not] I'll meet you there.

[bro_codebreaker]

[and once she gets there, he'll be ensconsed in one of the comfy chairs, with a bottle of scotch on ice and a couple of glasses. if that's not her poison, he can accomodate just as easily, but ... it's his, so we'll start there.]

Hey.

[its_worthdoing]

[Willow is past picking her poison. You can definitely pick it for her]

...hey. [Was that rude?] I mean, hello.

[bro_codebreaker]

Wills, this isn't a board meeting, you can totally say "hey". It's cool.

[its_worthdoing]

Not a lot is 'cool' right now, Barney. That is sort of the point.

[bro_codebreaker]

Yeah, I know. That's why I figured maybe just -- I don't know. [he wanted a friend who got it, someone he felt easy around, someone comfortable.

this was turning out the exact opposite of that, but he was bound and determined to turn it INTO that by the time they were through. even if it turned out to be only fueled by alcohol and wishful thinking.]

Cheers?

[its_worthdoing]

[Something seems to grow resolves in her expression. That is definitely resolve-face Willow. She takes her glass, striking it against Barney's]

Cheers.

[bro_codebreaker]

I gotta tell you, I kinda wish this was MacLaren's. Did I ever tell you about that place?

[its_worthdoing]

[She blinks]

No, actually. I don't think that you did?

[bro_codebreaker]

Oh, it's awesome. It's this little Irish pub that's set down below sidewalk level, right next door to Marshall's apartment building. [and Ted's, but, well, his loss]

We had our own regular booth, and everything. The four of -- [wait, sorry, TED] -- five of us. Me, Marshall, Robin, Lily, and ... and Ted, I guess.

[its_worthdoing]

[She looks up slightly at the name Lily, again aware of her double]

We used to all go to the Bronze. My friends and I.

[bro_codebreaker]

Sounds like something you do to baby shoes. [he smiles.] So cute! [ahem] Was that a bar, too? I don't think Xander ever mentioned it, just Caritas.

[its_worthdoing]

It was sort of a bar, hang out, pool hall and place to get mildly questionable wings?

[But there is a brief smile]

We sort of loved it.

[bro_codebreaker]

[amused and confused all at once, in an almost reverent sort of way] Tell me, Willow. What is it about mildly questionable wings that makes them ... somehow ... the best wings of them all?

I've always wondered.

[its_worthdoing]

[There is a flicker of a smile. Old Willow smile. Long enough that she feels it. Barney is right. About wings, at least.

Maybe more.

A glance follows. Something under her breath. Her own glass now hovers in the air]

I think the answer is magic.

[bro_codebreaker]

[he laughs, watching the glass a moment before reaching out and waving a hand under it]

Here's to magic, then. [especially if it can get her to smile again, he thinks, as he clinks his glass against hers]

[its_worthdoing]

[From across the glasses she catches Barney's gaze]

...thanks.

[And before he can brush it off?]

I mean it. This is me, meaning it.

[bro_codebreaker]

[damn, she caught him on the brush-off reflex. he manages to smile. it's awkward - not the Billy sort of awkward, where he's not sure what to say - it's the Barney sort of awkward, where he's caught being a Nice Guy and has to actually ... acknowledge the fact. not just to the other person, but to himself.]

You're welcome.

All with the capping

[its_worthdoing]

[That decided, Willow continues to drink. But her mood is noticably lighter]