Peace of Mind [open]

[Willow Rosenberg]

A soft sigh escaped Willow's lips as a smile crept across her face. She sat contently in her garden, fingers dug into the moist soil examining her angelica root. It had become soothing for the redheaded witch to tend her own herbs that would than be later used in the spells she crafted and taught. The area around the backside of the Hyperion had been perfect for her to create a garden. It had worked out beautifully. One might say Willow had a green thumb...or atleast a magick one.

She grew wormwood, blue cohosh root, yarrow flowers, and motherwart. There were sage, basil, and bay leaf plants. Oak and peach trees sprung from the ground encircling the garden. In the middle grew roses, violets, poppies, and jasmines that would give off the most enchanting aromas. It was paradise.

So, tending to her garden became a routine, and she found herself coming here more and more to find a sense a peace -- which was exactly what she needed to find right now. Things were stretching her thin enough being the 'head witch on campus' and helping to keep everyone balanced. Now she seemed to have gotten herself stuck between Anya and Xander. Since Anya's return about a month ago the vengeance demon had been staying in her apartment. Willow felt for Anya, and had made the offer almost immediately. She knew the woman was going through alot of emotional turmoil, and didn't think she should have to go through it alone.

Than there was Xander. Her bestest of her bestest friends. Xander wanted to be there to help, but Anya wasn't ready for him. It was all to much with the abandonment at the alter, and than leaving her for dead despite everyone believing her to be. Willow could understand. It just broke her heart to see Xander so crushed. That was why she gave into his plead to leave Anya alone in the apartment for the afternoon so that he might try and talk with her. She knew she would hear it from Anya later. The woman was known for blurting out whatever was on her mind, whether time appropriate or not.

For the time being, however, Willow did her best to push these thoughts from her mind and enjoy her garden. As she reached to pluck a weed from her hops flowers she wondered how her new apprentice, Oliver was fairing with the others.

[andrew wells]

"And as we fall upon the midnight hour...of the day, we see the Vampyre in his natural habitat..." Andrew started, as he walked toward Spike in the kitchen. Lately, he'd broken out the video camera to take the advice of a potential-turned-slayer, and start his informational videos for future generations once more. The fact that the girl was joking never crossed the short man's putrid mind; the only thing he could think of was showing the future generation of slayers of the vampyres-es-es, ahem, every thing that he assumed they needed to know.

"Do not be afraid fair children, of what you might hear or witness. For I will be at your side, and together we shall cross the threshold into the creature of the night's feeding habits." Andrew progressed, slowly circling Spike, who at the moment was sitting against a large island counter atop a steel stool. In his hands, an onion flower; and a cup of blood not but inches away with a few strands of burba weed sticking from the top of it, as well as small speckles on the ceramic where he'd made a bit of a mess.

"Watch as he rips through the flesh of the onion's outer skin, and sinks his teeth into the balden pits of it's fried soul. And next to him, is that tea do you ask? No, I say in fair pardon, for that is blood of the innocent!" He'd seemed to start shouting.

"Andrew..." Spike growled. Refraining from pulling the delicious fried vegetable to his lips once more, as he turned to look at the nerd behind him. Yes, that's right; nerd. Though Andrew had matured while in Italy...well, let's just say matured is stretching itself just a bit thin.

"What the hell are you doin?" Spike asked, with cocked brow. Andrew stood there for a moment, pulling the camera from his face, and fidgeting as his expression showed a loss for words. Spike made him nervous, at times. Ever since he hugged him in the lobby last month, his presence felt stiff and unwelcome.

And, also, being called daft for air, wasn't too nice. Even if he didn't know what it meant.

"Huh? Oh, well, um... Buffy said that if I wanted a truly authentic understanding of the Slayer mission, that I needed to understand the forces of darkness that she protects us all against. You know, the Vampyre...and demons and all that other evil stuff." His voice spilled out, ironically, daft for air. Spike just looked at him for the moment, before cocking his eyebrow.

"...and?" his sharp voice protted. Andrew felt as if he were about to burst, but instead, took in a large, dramatically drawn out breath- with hand motions, mind you- and looked at the platinum blond in front of him with a face mixed of seriousness, and uncertainty. Which, probably, looked quite silly.

"Well, Spike, aka William the Bloody; the second most evil vampire to ever roam this earth..." Andrew started. His ton being that of an accuser, as he half circled Spike where he sat, as if being interrogated.

"I feel that you are the most qualified to answer my questions!" He'd yelled, in a surprisingly demanding and strong nature. And if it wasn't for the look on Spike's face and the silence that soon followed, he would have been quite empowered.

"Okay, then, I'll take a rain check, and move on to bigger, badder things. Um...Like, witches and...stuff." he stuttered. The next few seconds were overly awkward, as Spike continued to look at him like he'd gone completely nutty.

"Alrighty then. I'll just be on my way." Andrew said quickly, before scantering off to find the next interviewee. Spike sat there with himself, his blooming onion flower, and his spicy blood, and slightly shook his head.

"Strange, that one..." He said to himself, turning back to his snack and continuing. Andrew's footsteps could be heard walking through the halls of the Hyperion with a thick thudding and dragging of his feet. It didn't take him but a few moments to find his way out to the courtyard, and what a lovely surprise he saw. He'd slowly gotten used to the witch who once tried to kill him and skinned his heterosexual man-crush like a fish, some time ago.

"A witch, red of hair and pail of skin. So fragile to the world around her; or so you think. It wasn't but some time ago, that this fair maiden wreaked havoc on the world!" He'd started up again, walking closer and closer to Willow as she sat there in her garden plucking a weed from the soil beneath it.

inspiration via RedDwarfette.

[Willow Rosenberg]

Willow looked up from her gardening, her smile fading softly as she spotted Andrew bearing in on her with his camera. The witch sighed, shaking her head. She was never going to get the chance to clear her head. She raised her brow at the camera, giving Andrew a pointed look at his words, and than looked away. A tinge of guilt still passed through her whenever someone talked about her trip to the dark side.

She had killed succeeded in killing Warren. Flayed him alive, actually. Jonathan and Andrew had been next on her list at the time. She would have probably killed them, if it hadn't been for her friends standing to protect them from her wrathe. Then, she had tried to bring about the apocalypse -- Oh boy, just stop there, Willow thought to herself. She tried to remind herself that it had been over 6 years ago since she had tried to end the world, and had since grown into a more powerful and self-controlled person.

Still, with the guilt trip in progress, Willow pushed on a smile and tried her best to move Andrew away from the subject.

"Hey Andrew! How's...uh...the project going," the redhead asked, hoping if she could get him to talk about himself than he would forget about her whole ending the world ordeal.