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Who: Andrew Wells, Jonathan Levinson, Warren Mears
What: The Trio reunited.
When: Afternoon of the 8th
Where: Andrew's apartment.
Summary: Former Friends Face off in Fiendish Frenzy.
Rating: PG
2001, three friends meet and decide to take over their home town over a game of dungeons and dragons. They have fun, finally getting a chance at the things they'd been denied all their lives.

2002, it all goes wrong. Murder. Betrayal. 33.3 percent of that group is flayed alive. The remaining 66.6 flee to Mexico in hopes of surviving.

Haunted by nightmares, they come back.

Fall 2003, one kills the other.

The last surviving member of the Trio joins their mortal enemies and changes all his way.

2005, he has established himself as a confidante and loyal friend of the Good Guys. He's become confident and honest, placed in a position of authority. He's respected. He no longer bends to the will of others and does what it takes to get his job done.

He's a better person.

He's good now.

2011, the three are reunited and nothing is how it should be.

Andrew isn't sure what to do. How to handle it. He's lying to Buffy - no, not lying, he argues even in the middle of panic and thoughtless rushing - he's concealing information from her. It's like the Ragna. He's doing good, he knows he is, but he has to keep it concealed or everything will go to hell.

After talking with Buffy he'd explained the situation to Jonathan on their way back to his apartment. They'd stopped and grabbed clothes, grabbed food, grabbed items - and Andrew had told him the 'sitch'. It had been a rushed explanation, consisting of only the bare minimum of info. He'd kept his tone clipped, business-like, and as British as Mr. Giles would have and felt proud.

And that was it.

"Well, um... this is it."

And into the apartment they went.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Let 'im talk, Sparky."

Warren was sort of finished with distractions.

Edited 2011-01-10 20:06 (UTC)

"I kind of deserve that."

A slow exhale. "The villain thing -- it didn't work out, so. Um, I'm reformed. I mean, I don't -- I don't do that stuff anymore. It's my redemption. Una questa." A nervous smile. He can't look at either of them. This is so hard.

"Don't call me that," Jonathan snapped in Warren's direction. Andrew wasn't the only one on edge.

Frankly speaking he ignored the short one. He was too focused on, well, what Andrew said. Well it confirmed the conversation with the Slayer's sister was real, at least. To say Warren was displeased was an understatement. Something happened... What, he didn't know.

He was just left in his silence. Thinking.

"So..." What to do?

"Um. So I'm just gonna open this up for Q&A and we can go from there."

"I'm up to speed already. Warren?" He didn't particularly mind being ignored, knowing that he'd been heard even if he wasn't acknowledged.

"Glad someone is." It was his turn to be snappish. "Because I certainly am not. Where do I even start is a better question."

Technically, there was nothing stopping him from spitting out the full story. But instead, he waited, just waited for Warren to pick the place.

"batlhHa' vanglu'taHvIS quv chavbe'lu'," Jonathan muttered lightly, leaning over to rest an elbow on the couch's arm.

Warren raised his hand to smack Jonathan but thought better of it. Not cool, man. He was the clueless one here...

"From the beginning would be a good place..."

There was a faint smile at that. He'd missed the ability to switch to Klingon around his friends on the fly.

"Okay."

You can do this, Andrew. You are the Watcher. You're Mr. Giles' Best Man. You proved to him that you're capable.

"So, um..." No. No, he had no idea how to do this.

Whether or not Andrew was terribly capable, Jonathan was quickly running short on patience.

"So you're a timebomb waiting to go off and we're not going to let you do it this time, all right?"

"Hey shortstack... I wasn't asking you, but good to know at least you're honest with me here."

Which was a little alarming, giving the nature of the friendship Warren is aware of. He wouldn't deny Jonathan's statement, but he wouldn't acknowledge it either. It was hard to when he didn't know what exactly it was that the short one implying.

"Some friend you're being here, Andrew..."

Like he cared if it stung or not right now. Warren was feeling mighty betrayed.

And it did sting. Andrew flinches, biting his lower lip harshly. "I..." What is he supposed to say? Do? Oh - he felt nauseous.

"Okay," a deep breath. Calm, he needed calm. "That -- yeah. That's right. And shut up." Count backwards from ten. One.. Two... Three... "We're stopping you on that dark path right here. We're reforming. The Trio is going to do good now."

Four... Five... Six...

"Because when we did evil, nothing good happened. Everything fell apart, and we, um, we ended up hating each other. You guys are my best friends and I don't want that to happen again. We - we could do a lot of good. I mean, super villains reforming always do good. And, the heroes here are nice. A-and if we do bad here, then Batman is totally going to show up and kick our asses."

Seven... Eight... Nine...

"... I'm trying here -- it's just, it's hard, okay?

"You're making it harder than it has to be, Andrew." Jonathan stood in an attempt to lessen the height difference between himself and Warren. "What he's trying to get at is that all your planning never did any good for anyone. So you're not going to ruin everything for us here too. You're not the one in charge anymore, okay?"

Almost immediately Warren stood up to reestablish the height difference. Everyone was being so damn vague and it was only getting him angrier. Almost to the point where he was having a difficult time keeping it from expressing itself on the outside. This was just ridiculous. Stupid. So he was content to look down at Jonathan, an unspoken dare. He didn't even look to Andrew to speak.

"I want details and the both of you know it."

This was like the night the Trio had stopped being a game. He could remember the moment it shifted, locking eyes with Warren and realizing that he was the stronger one. That was the moment he realized that there was a different way and that listening to Jonathan would drag them down.

The Watcher's hands balled into fists. He could do this.

"Both of you, sit down!" His voice raised, but held none of the panicked edge it once had, instead coming out hard and authoritative. He dealt with girls who could snap him in two at any given moment if they pleased - these two were nothing.

He had to let them know who was in charge here.

What was that noise and why was it coming out of Andrew? Everyone's little brother Andrew who never scared anything bigger than a puppy? If the intent was to startle, then it completely worked on Jonathan, who snapped his attention to Andrew without a moment's hesitation. He didn't sit, though. Because what the hell just happened?

Jonathan's reaction was much like Warren's. He just stared at Andrew, wondering where the hell he got the balls to do that. Andrew did just yell, right? ...Right?

Seriously what the hell...

There was no time to pat himself on the back of reel over the fact that he had really just done that.

"I said," he said very slowly, his expression not faltering for a moment, "sit down."

And this time, Jonathan sank back down. It looked like Andrew was finally ready to have this talk he kept insisting they needed.

Well Warren wasn't about to sit, no matter how shocked he was. Out of the surprise came yet more anger. However, it was just creeping at the surface. Instead of complying to the sit down, he just went back to leaning. Like he had been.

That was good enough for him. Andrew gave a quiet sigh, massaging his temples gently. He could go for a nice, soothing mint right about now.

"Listen," he kept the Watcher's tone, fixing Warren with a look. He hoped. He couldn't waver - no matter how much he wanted to. "We're not doing that. No more stupid fighting." That was rule one.

"Jonathan's right. Our plan fails, okay? You," abandon me, "get beaten up by Buffy and everything goes to hell when you decide to drop the supervillainy route and get thug life. Only two thirds of the Trio get out alive and even if we've got our lives, we're still on the run from the big bad you unleashed."

Andrew drew himself up to full height, blinking hard, but not looking away. It was like staring at the sun, in a way. "From here on out, the Trio is reformed."

And that was as much detail as he was willing to give. He would have rather avoided divulging any information. The risks of Warren going out and grabbing a weapon for some kind of vengeance were too great for him to ignore.

It was that selective misappropriation of the truth that kept Jonathan quiet, eyes shifting between Warren and Andrew. They really should have spent more time discussing how much they weren't planning on telling Warren, since he's not entirely sure about any of this still.

Couldn't they just stuff Warren in a closet and try not to forget to feed him?

Warren was quiet for a few moments, taking it in. There wasn't much to go on there and that irked him. So much for any semblance of trust he might have had for either one of them. Not that he much cared for Jonathan at all. Warren didn't.

"Is that it?"

Was that all Andrew was going to say? The answer would more or less determine everything for Warren right there.