8297/The Plane, Boss! The Plane!

The Plane, Boss! The Plane!
Date of Scene:	13 July 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	John comes to check up on Willow and gets more than he bargains for as a result.
Cast of Characters:	Willow Rosenberg, Constantine

---

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Friday night.

Willow Rosenburg is barely 20, attending university, living away from home for the first time in her life, and what is she doing? Sitting at home, reading a book on magical history, with periodic glances at her candles and sage. To be fair, it's an improvement over an hour ago when she was rereading her Higher Order Numericals text and pondering the nature of three dimensional graphing in an outer planer space. That and eating cold pizza, but at least the cold pizza was decently normal. Right? Right? *sigh* Willow is, as oft mentioned, hopeless.

Constantine has posed:
After pausing to flirt with the bloke at the desk, John makes his way into the building's elevator riding it up to the girl's floor and making his way to the door of Chez Witch and Slayer, he knocks twice.

It was just a check in, but John has a bag of donuts left over from a card game he was at, and a couple of half way decent coffees, his so Irished up with whiskey, it should rightly be green.

All the same, John waits at the door in his usual get up, trenchcoat, loose red tie, button down, slacks and Doc Martens, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
You don't need super senses to smell John and his lit cigarette standing outside the door. Or, at least Willow doesn't. Which is the only reason, nose wrinkling, and she, herself, trying to be as quiet as possible, Willow is at the door almost the precise moment John knocks.

"Shhhhhhh," she warns with an excited little hiss. "Buffy is sleeping. I don't know what she was chasing down, but she looked horrible. She didn't even shower first." Said in tones that suggested both horror of some sort (given the nature of what the Scooby gang usually tracked down), and somewhat awe at excatly how beat her Beste must have been to merely stumble through the door, mutter an incomprehensible greeting, and disappear into her room.

"Wait, did we have a lesson? I don't remember a lesson.. Today is Friday.." Willow backtracks over the week, brow furrowing as she tries to remember where (or if) John had been on her schedule. "Tuesday??"

Willow wasn't sure. But she invites John in and closes and locks the door behind him. "Put out that.. that thing.." pointing and waving vaguely at his cigarette. Then, remembering herself, adds a prim and politely proper, "Please?"

Constantine has posed:
John looks more curious than apologetic at the news the Slayer was asleep when he knocked. "A bad one eh?" he asks the curiosity in his expression mirroed by his tone. He takes a long drag of his still lit cigarette. "Don't envy the girl her dry cleaning bill."

As to the remarks about his cigarette, John smiles slowly, letting the moment drag a while before he chuckles uttering: "Dissipati peribunt"

The cigarette was gone leaving only the faint smell of smoke and ash.

"Picked that one up for you lot," he explains stepping inside and thrusting the bag of donuts at Willow. "No, no lesson, just checking in."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow shrugs, following John back to the couch, and warning him not to move the candles - 'they're to cleanse the room and help Buffy sleep'. "I don't know? She didn't say, but there was lots of green ichor on her? I kinda miss doing that."

All work and no play gets Willow that coveted A and all that. But her semester was nearly over, and once she figured out why she kept getting texts from the Watchtower...

The spell just earns John a shake of head from the girl. "I should learn that." Then again, John wasn't terribly likely to leave that one in her hands or he might never get a ciggy when he wanted one.

She takes the bag of donuts with some suspicion. "Okay. So if I didn't miss a lesson.. Hey, are you dumping me? Because I have to tell you that would just be mean John Constantine. Just because Giles showed up.."

Showed up and then seemingly, and mysteriously, had gone quiet again. The bag of donuts is peered into, as if knowing what kinds were in there might give her a clue as to exactly what 'checking up on you' actually entailed.

Constantine has posed:
"Well you could always come with me on one my jobs," John offers. "Though it's less green slime and more, pants shitting terror and dubious bargains."

He wanders into the suite looking about, touching this and that, generally being his usuall nosy self. Choosing a seat in the living room, John flops into it, chuckling. "We're not dating, luv," he says. "But if you mean as my apprentice. No, not dumping you. Ripper's got talent, but he gave up real magic when he went and joined the Tweed Brigade, nah, best for everyone if I keep teaching you."

Speaking of teaching, John says, "The vanishing spell's pretty easy, remember the dimensional fold stuff we were lookin' at the other day, same principle, just sort of tossing it into the interdimensional rubish bin."

As for the donuts, it was a mix, glazed, long johns, a few jelly filled and an apple fritter to round out the bunch. Very random, like John's visit.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"I don't know," Willow considers. "I mean, I guess so? But you, well, you hang out in.. places." The word said with a certain hushed distate, which is to say 'bars', and most specifically, the kinds of bars where people like Willow didn't hang out. It was like if the Bronze had an older, smellier grandfather of a bar, and the attendant patrons to boot.

When he mentions the 'D' word, Willow makes a face - John should be used to this one by now. "Ew. You're old and smelly." She shivers. "Who would want to date you. And no, I meant as my teacher. I mean.. Giles came back, and we finished with Superman, so maybe you didn't want me anymore."

If there was a defining trait to Willow, one that ruled her magic using existence, and often her relationships, it was insecurity. She'd spent the better part of the missions retrieving Superman feeling tremendously outclassed by the company she was keeping, and failing to recognize her contribution to the affair.

"Wait, the deminsional fold stuff? Like how your House bends the space between here and there?" Her brow furrows. "So, I just imagine things being an accordian and open the space between them and its gone?" Eyes widening as she sees the sudden and useful potential of that. That, and raspberry jelly donut! Score!

Constantine has posed:
John rolls his eyes. "What's to consider?" he says. "I mean, I'm John bloody Constantine, ever 'ere of me taking an apprentice before? It's an honour," he says with a smirk as if his discerning taste that had been the reason for that.

Sighing, John says, "Yes, yes, I know, I'm old and smelly and it's disgusting to think I've had sex with all those women..." he says bringing up past versions of this conversation. "An' I don't date," he adds with a degree of finality.

As for the idea he didn't want to teach her any further. "Nah, we're a good team as much as we annoy one another, and well, we saved Superman together, that's one of those bonding moments I think, yeah?"

John nods as Willow hits the mark in one go. "Yeah, exactly that. I mean some bloke in the next dimension over might be getting a cigarette on his head, but hey, it beats looking for a bin."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
John is treated to a blank stare over the whole 'John bloody Constantine' business, because frankly, until he'd announced Giles had appointed him to watch over the gang, she'd never heard of him. "I guess?" Her words are offered hesitantly, not wanting to offend him (as though her numerous ascertations that he was old and smelled might not already have done that).

Of course she brightens when the gist of the conversation rolls back around to she still had a teacher, and the coveted 'apprentice' title -- studies of any sort were important to Willow, which mean, by proxy, that the titles that went with them were also important.

She grins over a mouthful of jelly donut, "That was fun, wasn't it? All that pew pew and pow pow." Willow sighing happily, and then wistfully. "I still don't know why the force lightning didn't work. Maybe I didn't use enough of it." Her sorrow interrupted by the thought of some poor bloke having a cigarette dropping into his morning cereal (much less mean than on his head and with a much better visual image). Adding, "Oh, we have a garbage can. That's what you mean by bin, right?"

Constantine has posed:
John points at the blank stare. "See, that is why you need me as a teacher, if you're in this business and you hadn't heard of me, then you're doing it wrong."

Of course what people heard is really the question. In normal circles, that is the non-magical kind, John was con man, a mad man and crook. In magical ones, he was a professional exorcist, expert demonolist and warlock, as well as a con man, a mad man and a crook.

"Could be, or the guy was bloody tough," he says of the lightning. "Happens sometimes, with the big nasty ones, can be immune to everything including the kitchen sink, 'cept for their one weakness, blah, blah."

"What, in English? Yeah, we call it a bin," he says taking a bit of a smirking jab at the colonial.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow settles back on the couch, and moves her book so that it's within reach, but not yet closed. "Why would him being touch make it so that I didn't turn into a Dark Force user?" Yes, part of her mind told her that was never likely to happen, but she'd held out hope. After all, most of the world didn't believe in the things she and the Scooby gang hunted down on a regular basis. And nobody would laugh at a Dark Force user - they meant serious magical business!

Of course they were also evil, so there was that.

Constantine has posed:
John clearly hadn't been thinking about the same thing Willow had.

"Wait, what?"" he asks her.

"Are you talking about Star Wars? Like why didn't that spell make you evil?" he asks her poleaxed by the question. He studies her for a long moment. "Are messin' with me?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow looks sheepish, "Xander says lightning is what Dark Force users use? Nobody knows I do that. I thought it would.. you know.." She shrugs, looking embarrassed now. "It didn't. I just made him want to get away. I guess it's okay. It still helped."

To distract from having to admit that, she carefully takes a bookmark, and places it between the pages she's reading, and closes the book that Spike had given her. Which was yet another problem she had looming on her horizon.

Constantine has posed:
John shakes his head, chuckling again, "An' right there is why that spell wasn't 'evil'," he says before spelling it out for her. Heh. Spell. "You were doing it for a good reason, intent means a lot in magic, you can do the same spell for different reasons and it'll mark you a differnet way."

"Also, might want to start learning how magic works from books," he nods to the one in her lap. "Rather than from a galaxy, far, far, away."

His eyes settle on the book again, recognizing it from his last impromtu visit. "That' the one from the Billy Idol fan?" he asks her. He knew who Spike was of course, he'd read Giles' files while he was filling in as watcher, but the knicknames amused him.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow's lips form a small 'O' of consideration. "So, even if I wanted to be evil I still would have been good because I was doing it for a good reason? That sounds awfully complicated. I mean.. wait.. does that work for success of spells, too? Because I really suck at potions and maybe that's why."

She doesn't exactly explain the why of the why she thinks that's why she sucks, but clearly she has an idea brewing.

However that thought is banished by his glance towards, and asking about, the book. "Yeah. But Billy Idol sings better." Yes, she'd looked him up. Billy Idol, that is. "Is it okay to keep a gift someone if you're not really sure why they gave it to you if someone else might not be happy you have it from them even if you don't know that you want to be with them so really you shouldn't be worrying if they're unhappy about the thing or not? Because I'm feeling guilty and I don't know why. Except that.. I don't know. Why can't things just be simple?"

Constantine has posed:
"Funny, I was thinking the same thing about that sentence," John replies to Willow's lamenting the lack of simplicity in her life. "Wanna run the situation by me again?"

As for the magic thing, John nods, "Something like that, but why would you want to be evil? Anyhow good and evil is complicated, lots of evil bastards do bad things telling themselves they're good, and situations can force good folks to do bad things, it's a mess, but generally try to do good things is about the best thing I can tell you about any of it."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"I don't know," Willow admits quietly. "Just I don't know. Everyone with real power seems to be.. they're not like me. They're not all.. I mean they say things and do things and nobody laughs at them because they like getting A's or.. Nevermind, it was stupid anyway."

Which is to say it's getting terribly personal and touching on very sore spots in her psyche.

"Situation?" The last of her donut is tucked away, and Willow remembers what she was saying. "Oh, you mean like the dating thing, not the magic thing. Though I'm still thinking about the magic thing."

Spike's book is picked up and placed on her lap. "Everyone was gone for so long, doing things, and when they came back I guess I thought, I guess I'm just surprised I'm the one who changed so much. I know Spike was being nice giving me this book, but then he brought me another present and things got weird, and then they weren't weird, but Oz wouldn't like it, and I don't know. Do you keep gifts from someone even if you don't really want to date either of them?"

Not that Spike had asked, but Willow was quite certain that in Oz's eyes the book and the necklace she was wearing were tantamount to a proposal or something. And given his temper.. "I like who I am, or who I think I am now. Why do I feel like everyone wants me to stay the way they knew me?"

Constantine has posed:
"I dunno, I bet some of them are like you when they're not wearing tights,' John says of the superheroes. "You'd be surprised."

As for the other, he nods, "'s natural, people get an image of someone in their head it's hard to let go of it, especially if you've known them well, takes time to change that image, for them to see you aren't the person you were when they last saw you."

"As for the gifts, honest answer? Tell 'em how you feel and let them decide if they want the gifts back."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"I bet that Enchantress person doesn't wear tights," Willow mutters. She doesn't even mention Incubus.

His words might be meant to make her feel better, but they don't. "What if I'm worried *I'll* turn back into that person? It's like all the old patterns are there just waiting. And they look so confused when I don't.."

Then she sighs. "I'm not worried Spike will want the gifts back. I'm worried Oz is going to get angry and they'll fight. I don't want my friends to fight." Then she has to admit, "I don't want to give the gifts back. I mean, I know I should." It was much the same as when Sam gave her his bus passes - she'd used them because she was broke, but every time she did she felt guilty. Just not guilty enough to walk.

Constantine has posed:
The Enchantress talk has John's head tilting. "Who said anything about her? I'm talkin' about heroes luv. She's definitely not one of those."

"Can't let your friend's confusion determine who you are, or anyone else for that matter, you're a badass witch who saved Superman, tell them all to stuff it. If they're really you're friends they'll pull their heads out of their asses and get onboard with the new Willow, if not? Weren't really friends to begin with."

Though he softens that statement with: "But I've seen your friends, they seem the real sort."

Then he carries on, "Listen, luv, you're about to get into real magic, the deep stuff, so I am going to say, do yourself a favour worry a whole lot less about the things that don't really matter. Books, friends fighting, things like that, all pretty much bollux when the world's on the line. Better to keep your eye on the prize."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
There's a nose crinkle from Willow who pulls another donut from the donut bag, "Well, she was pretty powerful," the red-headed witch notes. "And you don't wear tights."

She's not sure why she's throwing that one out, but it seems important. Besides, Willow is feeling rather contrary.

"I guess?" is said of her friends. "But we've been through so much. And, I don't know. It's kinda they expect me to date Oz because we dated in high school. He.. had to go away for a bit. We wrote while he was gone, but now that he's back, I don't know. I don't feel the same way. It's like writing wasn't the same as - you ever think you want something, but when you can actually have it you realize that it wasn't the thing you wanted? That you kiunda liked the *idea* of the thing?"

She doesn't look happy, and picks at her fritter. "I really care about him, but I don't want to date him. I don't want to date anybody. I thought Spike liked me too, because he kissed me, and gave me those gifts, but he's stopped so maybe not.." She looks over to John, "How do you do it?"

Constantine has posed:
"Not a superhero," John says with a grin. "Plus, don't got the ass for it. Pass me the donuts."

Watching Willow eat was making him hungry.

John chuckles at the rest, staying objections with a hand. "Wait a few years and you'll understand why 'they want me to date him because we dated in high school' sounds ridiculous."

He takes a moment to regain his composure. "Sure," he says of wanting and having. "Tale as old as time, it happens to the best of us, you think you want a thing and then when you have it, you realize, oh bollux, that's not what I wanted at all. If you're feelings have changed, then tell the bloke and move on. Or string him along for the sex, whatever floats your boat. Better him than a vampire."

As for that last question, John answers, "I am thinking have my teenage years further in the rear view is a big help but other than that, I've seen the nature of the universe, and realize, all this," he gestures broadly with a hand to include everything they've discussed. "Doesn't really matter. The Earth is a bloody fragile place, full of even more fragile lives, and there's a million things trying to devour all of it. So, keeping that in mind, I tend not to sweat the little things, like what people think or feel, just do what needs doing and move on."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"What does your bum have to do with wearing... oh." A pink flush creeps along Willow's cheeks. She quickly covers with, "I think it sounds ridiculous now. I just don't know how to make them stop it."

Other than, you know, talking to them all. But that seemed a very large and terrifying task.

"I.. don't want to sleep with Oz," Willow admits carefully, just picking athte fritter without eating it. "He's not really the kind of boy you just have an affair with. I don't know I'm the kind of girl who wants to just do that. I mean, maybe? But not with him. Not with him or Spike.."

When he talks about the world being a fragile place, and how little any of this matters, Willow doesn't look any happier, but she does look like she gets it. "I want to do what feels right at the time. None of that feels right. Studying with you.. My m agic feels right. So does what we did on the Watchtower. And trying things and stuff, but the other just feels like admitting all I'll ever be is a girl from Sunnydale who married a boy from Sunnydale and settled down to raise babies in Sunnydale until I die in Sunnydale."

Constantine has posed:
John smiles as she figures out the ass thing while he gets up snags the donut bag and rifles through it for long john before sitting back down.

"Love these things, but the damn chocolate sticks to my fingers," he says trying to suck some off of his thumb before taking a bite.

"Glad you don't want to sleep with the vampire, messy business that, boy has too good of a time and suddenly you're all out of blood," he says.

"That'd be a dismal fate, given your power and your brains, you're bigger than that town, trust me on that one. As for the rest? We can keep doing that stuff, maybe it'll help you figure out what you want to do with the other parts of your life."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"Oh, Oz isn't a vampire. He's a werewolf. I don't want to sleep with Spike either." She says it all so casually, like everyone has this sort of problem.

A piece of fritter actually makes it into her mouth, Willow given John a bemused look. "What do you mean my power and my brains?" After a second, she has to correct that, "Okay, I'm not stupid. But sometimes I fell like I am. Or like nothing is ever good enough. It's why I try so hard as school. If I get a mark better than everyone, then I know I'm better than everyone."

Of magic, she's pointedly silent.

Constantine has posed:
"Whatever you say, Bella," John says seizing on the similarity to that Twlight dreck.

"How many classes are you takin' again?" John asks in counter to her concerns about feeling smart. "An' how many schools gave you scholarships?"

John gives a nod to the bit about the grades, he could understand the thinking there.

"And your magic?" he asks.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Twilight? *soom* Over Willow's head. She blinks at John in confusion. "But I don't want to sleep with Spike. Or Oz. But Oz is who I was worried about. He wants us to pick up where we left off. I thought it would - anyway, it.. I don't want what we had. But I don't want him to not be my friend either."

More donut disappears, Willow murmuing around a mouthful, "Six in the regular year. I'd take seven but they won't allow me. I kinda audited one unofficially. I just sorta showed up to the lecturs... and.. all of them? I mean, all the ones I applied to." And a couple she didn't. "Except Buffy got in at Gotham U. So I went there.È

As a late applicant, which meant no scholarships.

en sheès asked about her magic, Willow shrugs. "What about my magic? It's.. I mean I'm okay. I guess."

Constantine has posed:
"Thought we decided the high school, which boy do I choose stuff was beneath us?" John asks as he takes another bite from his donut. "Tell him what you want, what he does with it is up to him. Can't make him want to be friends."

Well they /could/ but they shouldn't.

"An' what are you getting in those classes?"

As for the magic, "You invented a new type of scrying and you have a lot of power besides, trust me, you're more than alright."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"But that's mean!" Willow gasps. Yes, the same girl who was complaining that she hadn't turned evil was also, now, adamant she can't possibly be mean to someone.

"Three A+, One A, an A-, and a B- because they wouldn't let me do a makeup on the midterm that I missed while we were off on Apokolips," she admits, not meeting John's eyes. "I've never failed a class before."

John might be astute enough to realize Willow isn't saying she's never failed in a bragging way, but is very likely referring to that B- as a fail.

"I did not invent a new type of scrying!" Willow protests, even if she is the only person who uses it. "I just did it. I can't do potions. And every time I go to do magic everything has to be just perfect." At least until she stops thinking about the details and just does the thing. Willow overthinking her magic stumbles over her own feet. Willow reacting out of instinct and focus is both powerful and precise. And doesn't need all that components and incantation hoopla.

Constantine has posed:
John just shakes his head. "Not mean, just the truth. What's alternative? Let your mates bully you into dating the bloke again? You're better than that."

John almost misses the fail remark. "Wait, which one did you fail now?"

"Anyhow," he says stuffing the last of his donut in his mouth. "We'll work on your confidence, see if we can get you seeing what the rest of us do."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"I got a B minus!" Willow clears that mystery up right quick. "And I guess. I mean, I don't want to be stuck in Sunnydale all my life. It's just, I guess I want people to like me. If they like me, then I fit in."

Insecurity much?

She puts a smile upon her lips and nods at John. "Oh! I almost forgot. I've been getting some maybe pings on the stuff Sam and I were looking for." Which figures, since he's the one who is absent now, not Dean.

Constantine has posed:
"You'd hate my report card then," John says of his time, in the long, long, ago when John had been a student. "An' Jesus, if you think a B- minus is a fail..."

Yes, confidence was going to be worked on.

"Well if your friends want you to stay, you're going to have to pick one or the other, but, end of the day that's your choice to make."

The news about the thing she'd been looking into with Sam perks up John's ears. "Yeah, that Librarian business?" he asks getting up to snake another donut. "What's happening?" he says as he settles back to let Willow fill him in on the latest.