Ethan stretched his legs out under the table and crossed them at the ankles and took another sip of his iced latte.
"Well, of course it's all your fault, my dear," he said to his companion sitting across him at the small table in the Espresso Pump, "You married a complete prat, what did you think was going to happen?"
"I didn't know he was a prat at the time," Joyce said, drily.
"Ah. Well, then," Ethan said, leaning forward and setting his drink down. "I guess it's not your fault after all."
Joyce rolled her eyes, but smiled slightly. "I just worry about her. She gets so quiet sometimes, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. I worry that maybe she needs someone else to talk to."
"Fathers are highly overrated, really," Ethan said, with a flair of lightness that was almost genuine, "Mine certainly never did anything for me, and look at me." He paused for comic timing and then added, "Although that was possibly not the most reassuring example."
It was gratifying to see her laugh. She'd been a bit unsettled since the nightmares-are-real incident. Although, even if it was a bit worrisome, Ethan counted this in her favor. Most of the population of this denial-loving town seemed completely unaffected by the events of that day, as though they had managed to completely and instantly repress the entire affair. He was beginning to wonder quite seriously if the town was under some sort of enchantment, or if people really simply were that desperate to cling to their world-views.
He paused as Joyce's phrasing crossed his mind again. Weight of the world.
Then he had to wonder, again, if they should tell her. If he should. Rupert wouldn't agree to it, most likely. Buffy might not, either, although goodness knew, it would make her life so much easier.
Or perhaps it wouldn't. Joyce was an open-minded woman, but being told your daughter is the Chosen One who must fight life-or-death battles nightly against forces you've believed your whole life are merely fairy tales... Well, it was a great deal to take in, and the older one was, the less likely one was to be able to accept such radical paradigm shifts.
Still, sitting here and watching her worry over her daughter, it seemed that knowing may still be better than not.
And then, as though to punctuate his thoughts, his mobile rang.
He excused himself from the table and went a few steps away. Still, by habit, keeping the truth from her.
"Hello?"
"What do you know about invisibility spells?"
He sighed.
"Rupert, I told you, I'm not--"
"I don't need one cast, Ethan, I just need to know about them."
Ethan ran a hand through his hair and glanced back over to the table, where Joyce seemed to be absorbed in contemplating her coffee.
"You know, Rupert," he said, "I think we should tell her."
"What?"
Ok, to be fair, he hadn't given him much of a segue.
"Joyce, I mean. I think we should tell Joyce. About Buffy. Or Buffy should--"
"Ethan," Rupert said, cutting him off, "We can discuss that *later*. Please, invisibility spells?"
Rolling his eyes, Ethan decided to let it go. For now.
"What kind of invisibility are we talking about?"
"Human."
"Human? That's nearly impossible."
"Is it? What would it require?"
Ethan was suddenly very much not in the mood to discuss invisibility spells. He couldn't quite keep the annoyance from his tone as he said, "I'm not even entirely sure. It's simply a difficult thing to accomplish. You'd have to give me more information."
He didn't miss the exasperated sigh that preceded Rupert saying, "Never mind, we'll keep looking. Goodbye."
"Goodbye to you, too," Ethan said sarcastically to the dial tone, then hung up.
He headed back to the table and sat down with a sigh and a, "Speaking of marrying complete prats..."
Joyce just smiled. "Not that I'm one to be giving marital advice, but I think most couples have days like that. What'd he do this time?"
It was harder than usual to sound casual as he lied yet again, saying, "Oh, you know. Trying to foist his turn to buy the milk off on me, that sort of thing."
Joyce shook her head and tutted with sympathy. "Men."
"Oh, come now," Ethan said, his tone was light, but he was thinking to himself that at least feigning offense was only harmless dishonesty.
The End
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