Willow's Field Trip: Willow Field Trip
by AngelGirl
This takes place in the first season, 'cuz that's when I wrote it. Needless to say that there is no way in hell that anything "Buffy" belongs to me, but the poetry is mine.

Buffy glanced from left to right and then proceeded to cross the road. Her boots clicked along with the pace of the music blaring from her Discman. She swung the door of Sunnydale’s Starbucks open and walked into the frosty cold store. She gave a little wave to Xander and Willow who were already occupying the cozy little booth the trio always shared. She turned off the Discman and pulled the earphones off.

“I’ll have a Mocha Frappachino please,” Buffy tossed out to the busy clerk. While waiting for her order she glanced at her nails, admiring the fresh coat of some oddly named Urban Decay nail polish, she had just applied.

“If only everyone could have such beautiful nails,” she quietly thought to herself. When she had paid for her drink she made her way to the table where Xander and Willow sat.

“So, what’s on for tonight guys,” curiously asked Buffy.

“Yeah, maybe Willow can answer that one,” Xander commented, “I mean how often do we come here for an intellectually stimulating chat after a day of rigorous hard work in school? That’s what the Bronze is for.”

“Xander, you, work, and school do not belong in the same sentence,” quipped Buffy.

“Ha…ha, Buffy’s sooo funny! Just because your the Slayer doesn’t mean you need to get all high and mighty on us lowly followers. But really Willow, why are we here tonight?”

“Well… the other night, I was here, and I encountered upon two surprises. One we will all enjoy, the other I think that Buff will especially like,” said Willow with a sly smile.

At that moment, the clerk who had previously served Buffy her delicious Mocha Frappachino, placed a microphone in the middle of the store. The lights were dimmed until all that was left was a single light centered on the mic. Buffy could still make out the dim outlines of the other customers in the store, and she saw many more faceless people wander in through the door.

“Welcome, once again to the Thursday evening poetry reading,” announced the clerk, “tonight I think that we have some folks who have returned, and I hope that we have some newcomers.” The clerk stepped aside and the reading began.

Buffy never had really sat down and read poetry. She had always thought it was boring and stupid. All the poetry she had ever been exposed to had been shoved down her throat in school, the most unpoetic place, for many teenagers. But tonight, the atmosphere lent itself to the poetic mood, and Buffy heard people breath life into the soul of the words spoken that evening. She had been thoroughly enjoying the evening, and was on her second Mocha Frappachino (she would regret that later on!), when all of a sudden a familiar form stepped into the bright glare of the light.

“Giles,” Buffy and Xander exclaimed. Willow just sat there with a smile playing on her lips.

“Ahemm, well, uhh… yes, tonight I’m going to read, well, a short one tonight. It’s, well, yes, I guess it is, dedicated to a special woman whose name sort of rhymes with Salamander,” said Giles as a smirk crossed his lips. “she brushed her palm across his
cheek trying not to feel the
coldness of her own reflection in
his eyes as his tapered fingers
reached for a long forgotten
promise he touched her arm renewing

the pain with a loving glance.”

Giles finished his piece with a sigh, amidst enthusiastic claps peculiarly coming from a certain booth in the back. He squinted his eyes against the harsh light but could not deduce who it could be. He walked out of the light and waited for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness the rest of the room was in. All of a sudden he realized who the enthused clappers were.

“Ohh…dear. It seems I’ll never live this one down,” Giles muttered as he hung his head and made his way out of the coffee shop, into the warm night air.

“Darn, Giles isn’t gonna stay,” Buffy proclaimed with a little pout.

“I think that he’s a totally different person when he’s up there,” said Willow, content that her first surprise went off with a hitch.

The whole time the girls were talking, Xander was scribbling on a napkin furiously. Buffy leaned over trying inconspicuously to read what Xander was writing. Xander sensing that someone was watching him, quickly snatched the napkin and shoved it into his the pocket of his pants.

Before either of the girls could ask any questions clerk boy got up to the mic and began speaking again.

“This will be our last reader before we turn the mic over to you audience members who want to read a little something.”

He once again walked out of the circle of light and in stepped… Angel. Buffy let out a quick gasp and held her breath. Willow glanced across at her friend and smiled a smile of satisfaction. Buffy’s eyes danced as Angel spared no explanation and went right into the poem.

“That which I should have done,
I did not do.
I let my golden chances
Fall,
Turn brown,
Eventually die.
How I regret
What I never knew.”

Buffy heaved a great sigh, Willow wiped a tear from her cheek, and Xander muttered some unintelligible obscenity. Angel stood in the light for a moment, and then walked out of Buffy’s view. Buffy called out his name, and Angel whipped around, but could not place the voice among the applause. Once again he heard her voice call. This time he saw her waving in the booth along with that girl, Willow, and ugh.. Xander. Angel strode towards Buffy with a somewhat sheepish smile on his face. When he reached the booth Buffy motioned for him to sit down next to her.

“I, I didn’t know…”

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me,” Angel said. He looked away from her loving gaze and shredded a napkin that was on the table. Buffy took the napkin away and gently placed her hand in Angel’s.

“Your so cold,” she breathlessly whispered.

“I always am,” he said looking up into her eyes.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” remarked Xander. He got up from the table and walked up to clerk boy and whispered something in his ear. The clerk nodded and then went up to the mic.

“We, seem to have one last reader here tonight, Alexander…”

“It’s Xander!”

“Uhh…yeah, whatever, Alexander Harris.”

Xander stepped up to the microphone, which made a loud squeal causing everyone in the shop to cover their ears. He pulled out the napkin he had hidden from Buffy.

“Umm… I just wrote this poem while I was listening to everyone else.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I like Willow and Buffy,
But between me and you,

Angel smells like stew.”

“Xander,” exclaimed Willow. Xander left the microphone with a few sporadic cheers coming from various parts of the room.

“Come on,” Willow said as she was tugging him to the door, “they didn’t even hear you. Let them be. We’re going home, before you do any other stupid things.”

“But, Buffy needs to be escorted home. You know what they say, no walking after two Mocha Frappachinos or you’ll get a cramp!”

“Xander, it’s no swimming for an hour after you eat. Besides which, you don’t even follow that rule. Come on.”

Willow proceeded to pull Xander out of the coffee shop which by this time contained only a few customers and a pair cozily sitting in a booth saying nothing, but watching the stars in each others eyes.

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