Title: Wool Skirts
Author: Robyn the Snowshoe Hare
Part: 1/1

Note: Explanation fic about my recent leave of absense.


"I hate this."

"We know, Cordelia, you've told us a thousand times."

"Buffy, admit it, you hate it too."

"I'm trying to look on the bright side. I mean, for once I'm not being killed horribly."

"Oh, come on. She doesn't kill you that often."

"Um, actually, Buffy has a certain point there. She does tend to, eh, meet her grim fate in most stories."

"Maybe, but have you seen the way that She's been dressing me?"

"She's kinda busy these days, Cordy. Besides, we're all dressed like that."

"That's no excuse!"

"Cordy, please don't make Her angry."

"Gee, Xander, I really would've thought that you'd be a little angrier about all of this. I mean, it's one thing for *us* to have to wear Her school uniform, but it's a different matter when it's on you guys."

"Well, I just had to put it all into perspective. I look better in a skirt than Angel does, so I'm happy."

"You really are a small, petty man, aren't you?"

"Hey! At least I'm dealing with it better than Doyle! He hasn't stopped drinking since it happened."

"That's all he ever really does anyway."

"Apart from smootch Cordy like there's no tomorrow."


"Um, er, is something going on here?"

"Nothing, Giles. Any luck?"

"Well, I contacted the Spiritual Guardians, and they told me that the reason that we are all dressed in Catholic school girls' uniforms is that She has become too distracted to, eh, keep us in character, so to speak."

"What's She got to do that's more important than giving me something decent to wear?"


"Term papers."

"College applications."

"Three five-hundred word essays due regularly every week, not counting extra ones assigned on the cruel whim of teachers."

"Car-poolers who smoke."

"Cold weather."

"Drippy nose."


"Comparative Government tests."


"Higher math."

"Sleep deprivation."

"Too much homework."

"A mother dealing with soon-to-be-empty-nest syndrome."

"Being the managing editor for a school newspaper."

"Having four days to put out a third edition of that paper."

"An editor-in-chief of the paper who is almost chronically depressed."

"Buying Christmas presents."

"Three friends whose birthdays are all in January."

"Millenium term paper."

"Worried that Hal the Computer won't make it through Y2K."

"Guidance counselors from Hell."

"Finding a date to the Prom."

"Just 104 more days until She graduates, and then She'll probably never see some of her friends again."

"The Religion teacher is always trying to get her to sew sleeping bags for the homeless."

"She needs to buy new jeans, and that always takes forever."

"A pen leaked on Her best school skirt, and Her other one is missing a button."

"Her friends are trying to party like it's 1999."

"Her other friends are depressed."

"Having to get up at six every morning after going to bed at twelve every night."

"Sprite isn't a very good cold-weather drink."


"I don't see how all of this is worth ignoring us for so long! I mean, She hasn't even written a denial-fic about Doyle's death."

"That's right! I *DIED*, fer God's sake!"

"Shut your bloody trap, you ninny! The little twerp hasn't even been able to answer her blasted e-mail for a week, what chance to we have?"

"Spike, that isn't like you!"

"Sorry, pet. But I read those two essays of Her's that got published. Damn depressing."

"I thought the one about Elmo as a role model was cute!"

"I don't see why everyone is so in love with the thing. Turns my stomach to look at those beady eyes."

"Spike, shut up. I'm sure if She were here, She would tell want us to say that She's sorry that She's been busy lately, and She plans to spend Her weekend puttering around with Her fic."

"Like Maiden, Mother, Crone?"

"Yeah, She's hoping to finish that."

"So we're done?"


"Great. So when do we lose the wool skirts?"

The End

(there was an explanation here somewhere. I lost it, but I hope that you can find it. *g*)