Owner	Pose
Peter Parker	Peter pushed open the door to the Magic Box, the bell chiming overhead. The place smelled like old books, herbs, and something else that he couldn't quite place. Buffy had invited him over. Nice little witchy shop in Sunnydale. No big deal, right? Except as soon as he stepped inside, his foot skidded, nearly sending him sprawling. Marbles. And peanuts? Scattered across the wooden floor like someone had dumped a kid's lunchbox and toy collection mid-tantrum. Peter caught himself, reflexes kicking in just in time. His eyes darted around, half-expecting some gremlin or demon or... well, a kid, to come charging through. But the place was empty. At least, the front was. "What the..." he muttered, crouching down to pluck a single marble off the ground. The thing was smooth and cold, rolling between his fingers as he stood back up.
Buffy Summers	There was no one in sight. No customers. No staff. No demons. No demons who were staff. Or ex demons. It was about three minutes later when Buffy emerged from the back room. She was dressed in a pair of jeans with a comfy t-shirt that had The Magic Shop emblazoned across the front. It was a new line of merch that Giles had agreed to stock, to see if anyone liked them. Thus far, three had sold. Buffy suspected that one was Willow and the other was Dawn. Then there was hers. Sure, they could've just worn them to advertise but they loved Giles too and wanted to support the shop. Seeing him, she smiled brightly. "I have pizza already ordered. Should be here in about..." She stretched out that word as she glanced to the clock on the wall behind the check-out counter. "Ten minutes." Then she moved further into the room, stopping to blink at the floor then at him. "Lose your marbles?"
Peter Parker	Peter's gaze lifted the second Buffy walked in, and his brain did that dumb thing where it stumbled over itself for a second. She looked... good. Just relaxed and real. His eyes caught on the logo stretched across her shirt. The Magic Shop. Huh. Kinda charming, actually. "Cool shirt," he said, offering a half-smile. "I didn't realize this place had official branding. Are you guys going for worldwide witchy domination or just cornering the Sunnydale market? And can I get one?" When she called attention to the mess on the floor, he rubbed the back of his neck, "Just so we're clear, the marbles and peanuts? Not me. Walked in and almost busted my face doing an Olympic-worthy slip and slide. Place was like this when I got here." He shrugged, a little sheepish. "Figured it was some weird magic thing. Or... I dunno, some kid reenacting a Home Alone scene gone wrong."
Buffy Summers	"Could be any of the above around here," Buffy admitted as she eyed the peanuts and marbles. She frowned a little then went toward the store room, disappearing inside for less than ten seconds and returning with a broom with a folding dustpan so she didn't have to bend over. Giles thought of all the good things. "I'm going to go with Home Alone and hope it isn't Witches of Eastwick. You ever seen that? So gross. Puts the Exorcist to shame." She did motion toward the check-out counter. "Got a few of the shirts in the display glass there. Different colors. Black, blue, red, I think green?" It sounds more like a question than a statement. "And it's just something new Giles wanted to try. See if they sold. Thus far, all have. To my friends and family. And not even all of them. Two of the three sold to employees--me and Willow."
Peter Parker	Peter laughed, nodding along. "Yeah, let's hope for Home Alone. Because with what's been on the news... that's not something I want to deal with." Buffy was already sweeping, so Peter went for the low-tech approach, nudging peanuts and marbles into little piles with the side of his shoes. Not the most efficient method, but better than nothing. Plus, it made him feel useful. While he pushed stray marbles across the floor, his gaze wandered over to the display case Buffy had mentioned. Sure enough, there were shirts neatly folded behind the glass. Black, blue, red, green, and of course, white. He found himself smirking as he eyed a black one. Classic, understated. Safe bet. But the green one? Perfect for a certain ginger-haired best friend who'd probably wear it just for the joke. 'Official Witchy Merchandise' seemed like something he would get a kick out of. Without thinking too hard about it, he tapped on the glass. "Mind if I grab a couple of these? Black for me, green for a friend. Gotta support the brand, right?" He gave sizes for himself and the other. He went back to gently kicking around marbles, figuring the least he could do was help tidy up before the pizza got here. And hey, maybe wearing the shirt would earn him some employee-of-the-month points after all.
Buffy Summers	Technically one had to be an employee to earn employee of the month points. If they had such a program. Which they didn't. With only three real employees outside the owner, who was back home in England, it wasn't like they had much need for one. "Just slide open the glass behind the counter. You can pull them out." Because that is what one did when one was busy sweeping up round objects that did NOT like staying in the dustpan thus requiring all her concentration. It took a bit, and his help gathering the wayward things into smaller piles with peanuts blocking their escape, but eventually they were all in the dustpan and dumped into the trash behind the counter. Then she propped broom and pan to the side so she could ring him up for his purchases. He even got a bag which she put them in, instead of making him do that himself too. Maybe it was for the best there wasn't an employee of the month since it's pretty obvious who it wouldn't be.
Peter Parker	Peter slid open the glass and pulled out the shirts, double-checking the sizes. Black for him, green for his friend. Definitely something he'd find funny. He folded them over his arm and headed for the counter, doing his best not to trip over any stray marbles Buffy might've missed. He handed over the shirts and dug out his wallet as Buffy rang him up. She even gave him a bag. "Thanks," he said with a smile, taking the bag. "And I still say the shirts are a good idea. I mean, who wouldn't want to show off their official Magic Shop swag?" Just as he finished paying, the bell above the door chimed again. A short, somewhat frazzled-looking Asian American guy stepped in, pizza box balanced in his hands. "Oh, hey!" Peter said, already moving to intercept. "Perfect timing." The delivery guy barely got out a confirmation before Peter took the box, offering a quick, "Thanks, man," before heading toward the table near the back. Buffy had already paid online, so there was nothing to hold him up. He set the pizza down, the warm smell of cheese and pepperoni hitting him immediately. His stomach growled in response. "Food delivery service at your command," Peter called over his shoulder, pulling out a chair. The day was weird, sure, but Buffy made it feel like weird was just part of the charm. And right now, all that mattered was pizza and good company.
Buffy Summers	The tip had also been paid online so the driver was set. He headed back out to his white scooter and was soon on his way to presumably his next delivery. Or back to the shop to get the pizza for it. She joined him at the round table that took up a spot across from the check-out counter. The pizza was opened but there were no plates. She did jump up and go grab a roll of paper towels from beneath the counter then returned to the desk. She pulled off her own paper towel so she would be able to wipe her hands then drew out a piece of pizza--with an impressive cheese pull so bonus points to the restaurant. "I appreciate you joining me. Hopefully things have been well for you lately?"
Peter Parker	Peter grabbed a slice of pizza, the cheese stretch earning a small, approving nod. Sure, it wasn't a New York slice. He could tell just by the thickness of the crust and the slightly off-kilter flavor of the sauce. But it was trying. A New York-inspired New Jersey pizza, maybe. And honestly? It was good enough. He took a bite, letting himself enjoy the familiar comfort of greasy, cheesy goodness. Despite his inner pizza snob, he couldn't deny it hit the spot. "I like spending time with you, Buffy," Peter admitted, his tone genuine. "You get me... even with the geekdom. Or is it dork? Geek is trendy now." He smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "Guess I'm a hybrid. Like... a dork-geek. Deek? Gork? Actually, both of those sound awful." He took another bite, his gaze meeting hers briefly before dropping back to his plate. There was something about Buffy's presence that made him feel... normal. Like the weirdness of their lives didn't matter so much when they were just hanging out, sharing pizza, and talking like regular people. It was nice.
Buffy Summers	"I always thought a geek was someone into things like Star Wars and comic books. I thought dorks were just socially awkward with maybe a touch of geek or nerd mixed in. And nerds are just geeks who happen to also be good at math. So you might be a nerd since you are super smart with the sciency mathy stuff." Which proved Buffy's strong suit was not the English language. Nor any other real school topics to be honest. Not that she'd gone back to college after dropping out. She wasn't exactly sure when she dropped out. It was sort of the in-between-times, as she dubbed her memory blank. But she knew she'd not be able to graduate because she only remembered part of her freshman year. As such, she would fail any tests cause she didn't learn any of the material. It was kind of a crap spot to be stuck in. "I just think you're a nice guy. Funny, smart, sweet. All those things that most men aren't these days. It's refreshing."