Disclaimer: See prologue.
The petite blonde hunched over, eyes squinted, muttering assorted curses.
“Dammit. . . stupid thing, is it gonna take you all day? Come on,” she said under her breath. She sighed deeply, rubbing her fingertips over her closed eyelids. Cautiously, she peered out from behind them.
“Oh, I haven’t got all day, just GIMME THE DAMN PAGE!” she yelled, raising her fist menacingly.
“Buffy!” a feminine voice called out, alarmed.
“What!?” the Slayer snapped, clearly aggravated. Willow Rosenberg rushed over to the computer terminal and gently closed her hand over Buffy Summers’ raised fist.
“Don’t hit the computers, violence solves nothing with machines,” she explained soothingly. Love and computers, she amended mentally. Love and computers make you do the wacky. “Now, what’s the problem?” she managed patiently.
“It’s this page thingy, it won’t, you know, pop up,” Buffy said angrily, waving her hands about in frustration.
“Load,” Willow corrected quietly.
“Whatever. It just keeps clicking at me!” Buffy bellowed. Willow rolled her eyes. Good thing she had decided to take up a little “internet 101” with Buffy and Giles on a Saturday, or Buffy’d be getting a one-way ticket to detention land for yelling like that.
“It should only take a little while longer. . . there, there it is. Buffy!!” she cried out in astonishment at the page that presented itself on the monitor, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“Oh, come on, Will. . . you gotta admit, he’s pretty hot,” Buffy said slyly. Willow blushed to the roots of her hair as she hazarded another glance at the revealing photos of one of Buffy’s favorite soap-opera hunks.
“Okay, okay, hotness is present,” Willow stammered in assent, eliciting a grin and a little squeal from Buffy. “However, I think that you should try something a little more, well, educational before Giles sees this. . .” the redhead trailed off, throwing a glance over at the librarian, who was seemingly lost in the internet.
“And this isn’t educational?” Buffy said teasingly, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from her best friend. They both whirled around abruptly in response to the loud, sudden yell from the end of the row of computers.
“What do you mean, 404 file not found? What the bloody hell’s that supposed to mean?! Perhaps you’re just not LOOKING hard enough! Bollocks!” Giles raged at the computer.
“Oh, lord. . .” Willow groaned, rolling her eyes and clenching her fists, striding over to Buffy’s watcher as Buffy snickered. She turned in her chair to face the computer again as Willow attempted to console Giles and sighed. After a moment, she registered the pictures on the screen again and raised her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side slightly, the corners of her mouth turning up in a wicked little smile.
“Buffy!” Giles called out, and Buffy hastily closed the Netscape window, whipping her head from side to side in an attempt to discern Giles’ proximity to her computer. She exhaled in relief to see him and Willow in the doorway to the hall.
“Let’s go meet Xander and Oz for lunch!” Willow called, pulling the clip out of her hair and running her fingers through it quickly.
“It’s about time, I’m starving!” Buffy cried, leaping up from the computer and throwing her purse over her shoulder.
“Because, oh-almighty-slayer-of-the-undead, Xander and Oz are both quite proficient on the internet. You two-” she punctuated this thought by grabbing both Buffy and Giles’ sleeves and tugging gently, “-are most definitely NOT.”
“I must concede that learning how to, uh, navigate the, the internet could prove quite useful. Especially in the aftermath of-”
“Hansel and Gretel?” Buffy finished for him.
“Quite,” Giles continued. “Books, while preferable for leisure and a sense of some authenticity, are far from indestructible. . . they are more easily marred, waterlogged, smeared, and burned than disks and archives of information on the internet.”
“Oh, look. . . the caveman comes around,” Buffy teased lightly, giggling. She was cut short, however, when she ran straight into Willow, who had stopped walking abruptly, a confused expression on her face.
“Ow! Will, what gives?” Buffy whined, rubbing her shoulder absently.
“Sorry, but. . . where are we going again?” she asked, sounding disoriented.
“Willow, are you feeling well?” Giles queried, concerned, as Buffy put a hand on Willow’s arm.
“Yeah, fine. . .” Willow replied, shaking her head and clearing it. “I just forgot where we were going, is all.”
“We’re going to Rocky Rococo’s to meet Xander and your boy-toy for delicious pizza on Giles,” Buffy grinned. “How did you forget that?” Willow smiled brightly, narrowing her eyes a bit at Buffy.
“I don’t know. . . maybe it comes from hanging around you too long,” the redhead countered as the trio began to move down the sidewalk again, the incident all but forgotten.
“And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how you put a curse on someone via e-mail and websites,” he trumpeted triumphantly to no one in particular, and grinned.
“Enjoy, Ripper.”