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punch_kicker15) wrote2018-07-20 11:25 pm
The Wedding of Frog Fears and Anthropomorphic Nonsense, Chapter 4
Title: The Wedding of Frog Fears and Anthropomorphic Nonsense
Chapter: 4/?
Author: punch_kicker15
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Relationships: established Willow/Giles, other relationships to be named later.
Summary: When Willow and Giles' iPhones decide to get married, and an ill-timed wish gets made, chaos inevitably ensues.
Chapter Summary: Meeting Willow's parents goes about as well as you would expect
Word count: 1022
Notes: This is a sequel to my story The Love Song of Frog Fears and Anthropomorphic Nonsense
Ira approached the apartment door with a little trepidation. He wasn’t sure why Willow had invited them to stay with her. It could be an attempt to bridge some of the emotional distance of the last few years. Or perhaps it was a sign that her latest relationship had become more serious.
Before he could knock, Willow yelped, “Door’s unlocked. I’ve got my hands full at the moment, so--”
Ira frowned. She had an uncanny knack for anticipating other people’s behavior. He’d noticed it in high school, or maybe even junior high. Her school years had all blended together by now. Maybe it was some technology that he was too old to understand, but it could be unnerving.
Sheila opened the door, and Ira caught the first glimpse of his daughter in--ten years, at least. She’d changed her hair again. This time it was shoulder-length, dyed in every color of the rainbow. She was holding three squirming kittens in her arms, while a fourth perched on her shoulder.
Ira squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When Willow was a baby, he’d imagined that she would demonstrate some charming combination of his and Sheila’s traits. His facility for languages, or Sheila’s love of academia. But Willow had insisted on being nothing like either one of them, in so many ways. At times it had felt like living with a completely alien creature that he had no hope of understanding.
He opened his eyes again, and the rainbow hair and kittens were still there. She was as stubbornly odd as ever.
A tall man rushed down the hall. He pulled the kitten off her shoulder, and placed it on a cat tree.
“Thanks,” Willow said, handing him the other kittens. “I had them all corralled, but Luna’s an escape artist.”
As the man turned to face them, Willow said, “This is Rupert, my boyfriend.”
Ira’s heart started to pound. Willow’s new boyfriend had to be at least twenty years older than her. He was willing to put up with her various eccentricities as long as she was happy, but this seemed extreme.
“Boyfriend?” Sheila asked. “Your boyfriend?”
Willow scowled. “Yes, mom. Like I told you at least eighty times before you came up here.”
“I don’t remember that,” Sheila said.
“She did tell us,” Ira said. “But she didn’t say he was so—“
“-delighted to meet you,” Rupert interjected. Was that a hint of sarcasm in his voice, or just the British accent?
“Right! It’s so good to see you guys!” Willow chirped, in an exaggeratedly cheery tone. “Why don’t we all sit down in the living room?”
She led them to a small room with built-in bookshelves, filled with of books and some exotic trinkets, possibly from Willow’s world travels over the years.
Ira sat next to Sheila on a mid-century loveseat, which creaked under their weight. The coffee table and chairs also looked like antiques. Nothing matched, exactly, but the overall effect seemed charmingly eclectic rather than slapdash. I wonder if Willow is the one with the eye for antiques, or if it’s this new boyfriend.
“This is your living room?” Sheila asked. “It’s the size of our closet.”
“I know it’s a little—cozy,” Willow said. “But we’re really close to a lot of great museums and restaurants.”
“Music, too,” Rupert added. “The opera house is six blocks away.”
“Have you seen La Boheme? That’s my favorite,” Sheila asked.
“No,” Rupert said, his voice oddly tight. “We don’t care for that one.”
“It’s too depressing,” Willow said. She patted his hand gently.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Ira cast about for a suitable topic of conversation. “Who are these friends of yours who are getting married?”
“Their names are Anthropomorphic Nonsense, and Frog Fears.” Rupert said. “They were both given a bit, erm, unusual names, by someone with a singular sense of humor.” He glanced at Willow, who giggled at some private joke between them.
She added, “They may seem a bit strange to you, but they’re very sweet.” Her gaze faltered and she seemed distracted by something far away for a moment. “I didn’t mean strange in a bad way,” she clarified.
Sheila tilted her head slightly, glancing at Rupert. “You look familiar. Have I met you before?”
Rupert stared down at the coffee table for so long that it seemed he was ignoring the question. Finally he said, “I was the librarian at Sunnydale High School for three years.”
“Oh, now you remember something about my life,” Willow muttered.
Ira’s eyelid twitched. “Which three years?” he demanded. “Were you there at the same time as Willow?”
“Yeah, but we weren’t dating back then! He would never do that!” Willow sputtered.
“I think—“ Sheila began, and Ira knew that they were seconds away from a fight, and perhaps even more disturbing revelations about Willow’s life.
He said firmly, “I think we should both go to bed. It was a long drive up. And you have that teleconference tomorrow morning, remember?”
“Great. I’ll show you your room.” Willow stomped down the hall.
***
Ira lay down on the bed, trying in vain to find a position that didn’t strain his back. His eyelid continued to throb.
Sheila said, “I still don’t understand about Robert.”
“Rupert,” he wearily corrected. One of the kittens jumped on the bed and curled up on his pillow. He didn’t have the energy to shoo it away.
“I’ll try to find a few papers for her to read. Maybe they’ll give her some insight, and help her understand why this form of rebellion isn’t healthy for her.”
He sighed. Has anyone ever been talked out of a bad relationship through academic papers? He tried re-routing the conversation. “I liked that Tara girl we met a while ago. I wish she was back in the picture.”
The kitten said, “As you wish.”
Ira gaped in astonishment. “Did that cat just talk?”
Sheila said, “What are you talking about, dear? All I hear is purring.”
It must have been his mind playing tricks on him, just as it often did in Sunnydale.
Next Chapter
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Thanks! There are definitely more Ira POV chapters in the works.
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