#if anything i feel giles is most guilty of just not knowing how fucking bad it is for buffy

[takaraphoenix]

I don’t usually talk about Angel. But damn if s12 of Buffy didn’t leave me with something to say. They really fucked him over in the comics.

I mean, season 8 alone. Just. Holy shit. Making Angel - not Angelus - the main villain throughout the season. Pulling a half-hearted “he was being manipulated into it though :/”, which... I just... “here, you can have superpowers and you will get to bang Buffy” is not really... I don’t... I just...

In the confrontation between Angel and Buffy and the resulting banging, it’s really made clear that he made those choices. The ones that led to literally hundreds of dead people. He was presented with this weird premise by Twilight and he took it and he became Twilight. He chose that, that’s made clear when Twilight actually starts mind-controlling him - because that would not have been something necessary if Twilight had already been controlling his mind.

And then they set it up like Angel and Buffy are these epic actual soulmates, destined to be together by the universe itself. And you think. Okay. So we’re going with Bangel endgame then? And in such a large scale? Wow.

But lol nope mindcontrolled Angel kills Giles and will then be shipped off the series and Buffy will not be able to even look at him again until Giles is resurrected.

This bad boy can fit so much angst already. Was it... necessary to make him feel guilty for killing Giles too? I mean, yes, of course it was, because otherwise Whedon would have to make an actual choice on an endgame romance and he clearly is allergic to the very concept. And after making them soulmates, it had to be something huge and impactful to Buffy herself. So, let’s kill her father-figure in front of her eyes.

In the following continuity, everyone just... pretends that Angel was being controlled all along. And. I guess you have to because otherwise you’d have to hold Angel accountable for the hundreds of people he killed. And that’d be incredibly contradictive to the character, right?

Know what’d have solved that? Not making Angel kill hundreds of people so he can have a Buffy-paradise. It’s that easy. The choice to make Angel the guy who’d been killing Buffy’s Slayers all year long was... an objectively bad one? And let’s not dive into how ridiculous and stupid the whole “the universe wants you two to fuck to give birth to a new universe that will appear as a green lion on fire with wings”, that’s beside the point for this post. (Still had to bring it up though; seriously, just, go with an entirely different concept for s8? Save us from the ridiculousness and Angel from the character assassination. The military, Amy and Warren would have been enough villains to deal with. Didn’t need an “end of the universe” kind of stakes to begin with.)

At this point, I gotta admit I have not (yet) read the Angel & Faith comics. So I’m out of the loop on what they did for, or to, Angel. They helped him resurrect Giles, so yay on that.

This moment from season 10 really stood out for me. Because yeah. You keep setting him back. Angel finally gets his act together and falls in love with Buffy. He has sex with her for the first time and literally loses his soul. He gets sent to a hell dimension and has to crawl his way back to sanity and when he does. We. Uh. Break him and Buffy up for... honestly I don’t think there was even the most whimsical of excuses for that, but he packs it up and leaves for Los Angeles. He finally has a shot at happiness with Cordelia, he was really falling in love with her... whoops we killed her, she’s a higher being now, but also we bring her back so she can be an incubator and have sex with Angel’s son. Which also; we let him have a baby but then the baby gets stolen and raised into a dysfunctional teenager in a hell dimension. We make Angel and Buffy soulmates but we also make him kill Giles and then literally never bring up the possibility of them being a romantic couple again, even though there could have been an angle to work with there.

He’s still the same brooding, miserable sod he’s been a century ago. Because every time that the character gets even just a hint at happiness, it gets snuffed out, validating all of his fears and doubts that keep him in his brooding, sad state.

Season 12 sees him return then and... he’s... with... Illyria now? Can’t really judge how that relationship is since it happens off-screen from the BtVS comics, though I do have... doubts. What with Illyria having been Fred and... now... being Fred part-time due to magic shenannigans. Having a physical relationship with someone who looks like your old friend who died seems already questionable enough without that dead friend getting front-row seats.

Quite frankly, if anything, I was kind of expecting Angel/Faith to be the outcome of the Angel & Faith comics. What with Hollywood’s inability to have A Man and A Woman be paired up without them being paired up. Not to mention, their long history of second chances, starting when Angel quite literally chose Faith over Buffy, when Buffy was out for revenge and Angel protected her from Buffy. So while the BtVS comics were busy setting Spike/Buffy up as a happy relationship, I kind of thought that Angel/Faith would bring... a sense of happiness to Angel and be where that comic series was headed.

That he instead ended up with the ancient god that possesses one of his friends was, once again, a choice. But sure, if Illyria makes him happy. Oops, no, nevermind, season 12 sacrifices Illyria for the greater good and leaves Angel alone. Again.

And that’s it. That’s the absolute ending of things. Angel’s latest girlfriend gets banished to hell with no intel on whether or not she’ll be able to return.

I was already mad about Buffy being screwed over and denied a romantic happy ending in a separate post, but the fact that they gave Angel a romance that seems to make him happy and then banish his partner to hell before the show wraps for good is just... really messed up.

And it didn’t even happen for the sake of pulling a “whoops, Bangel endgame after all”, it’s all very vague and left in the open and everyone is Just FriendsTM and no romantic decisions are being made.

Which is usually something I find satisfying because I like to make the choices myself in the aftermath, but they’ve been taking every little bit of happiness away from Angel over and over and over again and quite frankly, I would have much rather seen him happy, smiling, in Illyria’s arms, than sitting alone brooding in the basement because Illyria got banished to hell.

I understand that the brooding seriousness is an important trademark trait of Angel’s. But... you’re allowed to let him be happy and he’d be allowed to grow emotionally. Or, at the very least, let him be happy in the very end.

[prose-for-hire]

Smile, though your heart is breaking

Pairing: Bi!Cordelia Chase x fem!reader; Xander Harris x Cordelia Chase; Xander x fem!reader (familial/platonic)

Request: hi! i already requested some cordy x reader but i have another idea, if i may! could i have a fic where reader is Xander’s sister, and she walks in on them kissing. reader has a crush on cordy and xander knows this. cue angst and sibling fights 😭!

Requested by: Anon

You had a crush on Cordy. You had played it off as silly and fleeting at first, but as you became closer friends it grew.

She was the reason you realised that you liked women. Discovered and began to love yourself and your sexuality. She was such a gift to you and yet she never knew.

A while after, you told Xander about your sexuality. He was shocked, struggling to comprehend it but he held you in a hug. Showing you that you would always be his sister, even if he was still coming to terms with your news himself.

Eventually you came out to the others. Everyone except Cordy. You weren’t prepared for her not to want to be your friend anymore. You were scared of the rejection. You adored her so much, you were happy with platonic so long as you could be close with her.

The others supported you and those that were unsure at first slowly got more used to it. They loved you, you were such a good friend, a big part of your close-knit little group. Things were going well.

Months later, as you sat on the bleachers with Xander and your friends watching a school football game, he turned to look at you and saw you staring at the cheerleaders.

“Stare much?” He muttered.

“I was trying to, um, pick up the routine” You offered, smiling at him.

“Oh yeah, ‘course. You’re so gay, y/n” He joked, showing how far he had come. How much more comfortable he was with you. He was the only one allowed to tease you though, if anyone else did he got really annoyed.

“Shut up, Xander” You shoved his shoulder and he mock-surrendered. The others all knew now and smiled along with your sibling squabbling.

When the game was over, you and your friends all walked back together. Buffy, your brother, Willow and Cordelia walked with you towards your respective homes. You were in good spirits, it was a rare night where there were no demons or anything. You could just relax and have a nice time.

You lit up when Cordy specifically moved through your little crowd to walk beside you. You giggled together and she gave you one of her pom-poms to hold as you walked almost completely in-step. She spoke to you a lot nicer than she did with anyone else, you were probably the one Scooby that could claim that you were genuinely good friends with her.

She offered you a lift back home in her car that she had parked a few blocks away because so many people were parked in the usual lot. You declined, starting to get nervous that she would find you really lame. Not to mention Xander would have to come too and they just got into a insult-slinging contest when they were both together.

Cordy looked a little disappointed but shrugged and waved goodbye before getting into her car. You regretted it instantly. You could have given Xander the code and told him to walk, but he probably would have insisted to come in the car just to annoy you.

You watched her drive away before you realised that she had left you with the pompom and you smiled down at it. It was like she trusted you. You had a piece of her to take home with you. You smiled the entire way home and Xander thought you had gone mad. Later in the evening, you decided to admit that you were crushing on her. Really hard.

“I think I’m in love” You whispered to Xander, in case anyone else was in the house and could hear through walls. You were both brushing your teeth, a little tradition you had left over from when you were growing up. You used to do everything together.

“Oh yeah? Poor girl” Your brother teased. You rolled your eyes and spat into the basin.

“I’m being serious! I wanna hold her hand and touch her face and-” you started to stare dreamily off into the distance before he interrupted.

“Please say somethin’ normal like have sex with her”

“I want to cherish her, hold her! Tell her that I love her” You frowned at him for being crude. You wanted a love story with her, she was so special to you.

“Who is she then?” Xander asked while the toothbrush was still in his mouth.

“Cordelia” You smiled.

“Not the devil in designer boots!” he was genuinely surprised at this.

“She’s not like that!” You insisted and he gave you a look before you left him to go to bed. He continued to tease you mercilessly about it for the rest of the week. You wished you hadn’t said anything, Xander had never really been a fan of Cordelia.

Although, what you didn’t realise was that somewhere after you had revealed your crush on Cordy, Xander and her had started to steamily make-out in secret. Whenever they got the chance. Today, it had been in a deserted art classroom.

You had been sent there to steal some paper for Giles for the library. There was an inter-department free-for-all on paper and Giles was currently losing the battle.

You opened the door, your intuition giving you a bad feeling. But you walked in anyway. Just in time to see your brother sticking his tongue down Cordy’s throat.

“Oh” Was all you said before you backed away, slammed the door and ran. Tears blurred your eyes as you sprinted, letting your legs take you as far away as you could.

The pair sprung apart immediately. They walked around everywhere looking for you. They squabbled and almost bit each other’s heads off over it. Neither of them had ever wanted you to see that, for very different reasons.

Eventually, when they had stopped an entire football practice by shouting at each other in the middle of the pitch they decided it was better if they split up and looked for you.

Xander found you in the late afternoon, sobbing into a book. You had made your way back to the library after hiding in the bathrooms for most of the day.

You had decided to cry in a change of scenery. Giles had insisted you really didn’t need to be there researching but you said you wanted to help. Or, he thought that’s what you said he couldn’t really hear over all the crying noises.

You were heartbroken. Twice over.

Giles had tried twice to take the book you were leaning over, he wanted to save the pages from water damage. But you had insisted on helping and he didn’t want to make you cry harder. He had retired in his little adjoining office. Crying made him uncomfortable and he was fond of you which made him feel worse for you.

“Y/n! God, I’ve been looking everywhere!” Xander said. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. You stood up, closing the book shut with a soggy snap. Giles took his glasses off and cleaned them, he wanted to come and give Xander a piece of his own mind once you had explained what had happened. However, as you started to speak, he knew you could handle your brother.

“You knew how I feel about her! You knew and you still-” You tried to calm yourself down, but your next sentence came out angrier and even louder, “You don’t even like each other for fuck sake!” Your voice echoed around the empty library.

“Woah, hey, y/n calm down” he said, waving both of his hands out to try and get you to be quieter. He didn’t want people to know why you were shouting. He was embarrassed. It made you feel even worse.

“Are you kidding?! Calm-?” Your temper was rising and you didn’t know if your relationship with him was going to survive this, “You know how much I like her and you just let me talk about it over and over like some idiot! All the while you were kissing her behind my back!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t even know it was that serious” Xander shrugged, but he did feel guilty. But he would have done it again, he knew it. Kissing her was fun.

He did become more guilty, especially so when Cordy had explained to him that she was bisexual and he had neglected to tell you. Which, on one hand of course it wasn’t his place but on the other he had done this for entirely selfish reasons.

“You liar! You’re so selfish Xander Harris! I hate you!” You screamed, shoving him away when he tried to rest a hand on your elbow.

You felt so betrayed. You were disappointed in him. He was supposed to be family. Your own brother. He supported you but only so long as it benefitted him. He loved you, but he still whether intentionally or not blocked you from even trying to date the woman you were interested in.

You stormed off, barely missing that you passed Cordelia in the corridor. She had heard everything. But you had tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. You needed to get out of there.

You stayed at Willow’s. You told her everything and Willow explained what she had heard from Xander. Your best friend was completely on your side.

She told you a secret that night, one you kept hidden from the others until she was ready. You bonded over the things you had been hiding. But, you weren’t so sure your affection for Cordelia was hidden anymore.

This was confirmed to you when Willow came up to her room and told you that you had a visitor. You frowned, not sure who it could be. You skipped down the stairs, having put yourself in a better mood with your best friend by your side.

But you stopped as you descended, and you swear your heart did too when you saw her standing there. The light hit her face perfectly, she was glowing. As always.

She smiled, shakily. The corners of her eyes crinkled in that way you adored when she was truly happy. But, why would she be happy to see you? After everything she had found out.

“Cor, what are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing. Is that a crime?” She said a little more half-hearted than she usually would. She seemed almost nervous to face you.

“No, except you did once say that if you were ever seen dead in whatever frumpy bungalow that willow lived in-”

“I know what I said, I didn’t really mean it. They’re just words” She shrugged, interrupting you. She forgot half of the mean things she said sometimes.

“Okay…” You said a little awkwardly. You knew that she knew. So, you thought it better to just let her speak. It was one of her favourite hobbies, after all. A hobby you usually loved, she turned insults into an art form.

“I’m here because-” She took a deep breath, this was so important to her she couldn’t get it wrong, “Because I like women. Uh, but mostly I like you.”

“You… like me? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“No! I only- I know this makes me look so totally heinous but I only got close with Xander because I wanted to get close to… you”

“You got bored of one sibling and wanted to hop onto the next? I don’t think that I’m comfortable with that” You explained truthfully. It was weird to you.

It was all you had ever wanted her to say, but it was still just so alien to you at the moment. As if you were dreaming. You were ten seconds away from pinching yourself because it felt too good to be true.

“I just wanted you to know, I had nothing to lose anymore. I broke it off with him as soon as I heard what you said” She explained, referring to hearing the way you felt.

“I-I need some time” you explained, your thoughts still spinning so fast around your head that you were starting to get dizzy.

“Anything, for you” Cordy nodded her voice barely above a whisper as she opened her arms to you. You almost fainted in shock, bowling her over as you embraced her. She wrapped her arms around you, inhaling happily.

She had wanted this for so long and you never even knew. She had stolen glances when you weren’t looking. Watched you from afar and imagined detailed fantasies of being close to you. Perhaps even kissing you. She had even gotten way too close to your brother in an attempt to learn more about you. She had been lonely, it was her only explanation.

You moved from the close hug and she wasn’t able to stop herself from grinning. You wanted to trust her, but you weren’t there yet. You needed a change to sort through your own feelings.

She turned and left and you watched her go. Things weren’t great with your brother. Your friendship group was fractured. But as you watched her turn back and wave at you, you had something special starting.

It started small in the back of your mind, but it was slowly growing. Hope.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“illusion”

Chapter 12

Finally, another chapter!!!! I think you will enjoy this one 0.0

Warning: VERY SEXY CHAPTER. ORAL SEX. :)))

I've never slept a whole night with someone before. Lawrence never stays after he's gotten what he wants, leaving me alone to curl up in my misery. Of course, Alice and I have had sleepovers where we shared the bed, but not like... this. When I open my eyes the next morning, stirred by the singing of the earliest bird outside, it takes me a moment to remember why someone's arms are wrapped around me so tight, their legs tangled with mine, and their face buried into the back of my head. Once the memory fades into my drowsy mind, I can't help but smile.

Because, despite how I arguably embarrassed myself last night, Julius is still here, holding me tight as he snores away.

None of it really makes sense, at least not yet. To be perfectly honest, I didn't know Julius would actually... feel something for me. The most I was hoping for was a one-night-stand, fueled by that fleeting moment of hunger in the hallway. The way he looked at me then, I knew I could get at least that much. I didn't expect him to grab hold and not let go, to show genuine interest in me, not just my body. It's foreign... something Lawrence never wanted to give me. Yeah, he would hold my hand, he would fuck me, but he wouldn't cuddle me at all, much less like this. 

Part of me warns against hope. But everything else is telling me to hold on tight myself.

Despite the warm feelings that flood my chest at the thought, I can't just hang around here forever. I crane my neck (pretty difficult in this position) and see that it's nearly 7 am on the clock. Breakfast is at 7:30, so people will be walking around the base soon. I can't be seen coming out of Julius's room in just my nightgown! If someone sees me, they'll talk, and before I know it, Lawrence is going to be knocking at the door demanding an explanation! UGh- There's nothing more I want to do than snuggle back next to Julius and sleep the day away, but it's too risky. With a heavy heart, I start to try and remove myself from him.

Emphasis on "try." The moment I move, Julius's grip tightens and he silently curls up around me. It's almost suffocating at this point, like some snake wrapped around its prey! "Uh- Julius- I need to go-" I whisper meekly, not sure there's anything I can do. 

"...no you don't." Julius finally speaks, his voice still weighted with sleep. His leg slides over mine and hooks around, trapping me further. "Stay here... just a few more minutes."

It's not like I have a choice, but something tells me that I was looking for a reason to stay. "Alright, fine." I relax into his hold, and I feel him smile against my skin, satisfied that he's won this small battle. His grip loosens, as if he's melting, and for a brief moment in time, I melt, too.

...but... I still don't get it.

I feel his lips again, this time on my cheek, the light touches like a butterfly alighting upon me. I have to squeeze my eyes shut and hold in a giggle at the sensation, a movement he picks up on. Julius chuckles to himself, still sleepy, his lips trailing down my neck and leaving delicate kisses behind. "How did you sleep?" he finally mumbles, his thumb drawing small circles over the hand he's holding. "I hope I didn't snore to loud."

"No, it was nice," I whisper back, his voice somehow grounding me more in reality. "Your bed is so comfy."

"You can sleep here every night, if you want. For- er- safety reasons."

I let out a soft laugh, and I hear him join me. "Maybe... we'll see."

"We'll see-" he repeats, then lets out a sigh. It's almost... sad. "Sorry... it's been a while since I slept next to someone."

Huh? Really? I have to resist the urge to turn over and look at his face. That's surprising... Julius has a lot of admirers, it would be easy for him to invite someone into his bed. But maybe, he has the same problem I do... the only love I knew was the physical kind, a selfish, lustful love that left me drained and disoriented. I remember the way Elia and the other girls talk about him, and how I even looked at him... like he was a piece of meat ready to consume.

He's like me, isn't he? He's... lonely.

"...I'm sorry."

"Hmm? For what?"

Love... I don't know if I'm ready to even say that word. Somewhere deep inside, the feelings coming off of Julius make something very clear... the potency of this feeling almost scares me. And for whatever reason, I'm the one in his sights, but instead of it being an honor, it seems like a burden. I'm a lost cause, right? My perception of love is skewed, ruined. And I know, if I turn around and look in his eyes... I'll get lost in them. I'll drown, because when it comes to love... I just can't swim.

"...nothing."

........................................

"So??? How was it!!!?"

Alice is waiting for me by the time I sneak back to my own room, promising to see Julius again at breakfast. "Um... good?" I deflect the question before turning to my dresser. "It went like you would expect it..." In reality, it did not go at all how I expected it, but at least now I don't have to lie to Alice. 

"Awww, come ooooon~" Alice whines, rolling over to keep watching me. "Tell me the deets!!! 

Uh oh. I avert my eyes and focus on stripping down and pulling on my uniform. "Well... it was very nice. But more than that..." I pause my dressing for a moment, a little smile playing on my lips. "He was nice... I don't know, maybe it's just because I've been with an asshole all my life, but Julius..."

"Ewww, never mind, if you're going to start talking about love stuff!" I turn and give Alice a disgruntled look, which causes her to peel back off into laughter. "Kidding! I'm happy for you, really." She sits up and swings her legs off the bed. "So, do you have a plan? Like- with Lawrence?"

"Not yet... I have to keep it secret for now," I tell her, pulling my robe over my head. "So you keep your mouth shut, you hear?"

"Got it!" Alice smirks and gives me a faux-salute. "And you keep your mouth shut, too... I'm sure it's hard to keep quiet when he's inside you-"

"ALICE."

Despite that just being a little joke, something starts to worry me as we make our way down to breakfast together. I feel... guilty. I know I shouldn't, but I do. God! If only I had held it together last night, I would have actually gotten laid... by a guy who actually cares about me, too. My ears start to heat up at the mere thought of it, but it's accompanied by a pleasant hunger in my belly that's definitely not the result of it being mealtime. I'm sure he meant it when he said he was fine with just sleeping, and he definitely enjoyed cuddling... but... I wouldn't blame him if he were a bit frustrated. Julius is lonely... I feel like I deprived him of something he needed.

It's a ridiculous thought, Julius hasn't demanded anything from me. But still... I want to give it to him. I want to know what it feels like with someone I actually like. Have I missed my chance?

No... there's going to be many more chances. Even today. It's only morning, after all! I'm sure another chance will come up if I'm patient.

Spoiler alert: I'm not patient in the slightest.

"Good morning, you two! My, you're looking radiant."

I thought Alice would be the one I have to rein in when it comes to my secret, but as soon as Julius sees us, I realize that it's him. He's already sitting at the table, fork in hand, but it falls to the table when his eyes land on me, and a big dumb smile becomes plastered on his face. Uh oh... don't be obvious, Julius!!!! I gulp and give him a nervous smile, hoping that none of the others already here will pick up on all the tension. "Oh... thank you! You look pretty good... yourself?"

Alice is nearly drawing blood as she bites her lip, dragging me to sit down next to her at the table. Julius simply chuckles a little to himself and thankfully remains silent, although his eyes don't leave my face the whole time. 

"What's got you looking so happy this morning?" Elia finally slides into the seat next to me, sourly looking at my face. 

"Huh? Oh-" I shrug, quickly busying myself with my food. "I uh- just had a good time at the lake yesterday."

Elia obviously doesn't believe me but doesn't pursue the subject. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

"Hey girls!"

We look over to see Giles and Nigel walking in, plates piled high with food. Those two are unmatched in how much they can eat. "Hey losers-" Alice counters. "Where's Wren? He usually comes down with you."

"Apparently he got called to a meeting with the captain," Nigel snickers. "Sounded kind of serious... maybe he's in trouble!"

"That would be funny," Elia adds, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. "maybe he'll get kicked out."

"Or imprisoned!"

"Or exiled-"

More laughter comes from my friends, but I can't bear to join in. All I can do is smile weakly and eat, hoping that I'm wrong and one of them didn't drug me that night.

"Hey... look-" Alice grabs my shoulder, her voice hushed, and gestures casually down the table. More of the senior knights are here, but I know exactly who she's talking about. "Guess who hasn't stopped staring at you since we got here?"

Oh boy. Cautiously. I glance over and see that Julius is indeed staring at me, almost dazed-looking, his head tilted slightly as it rests on his hands. His food is going cold for sure by now, but... 

AhH! JULIUS!! Don't be so obvious... anyone looking at you right now will know something is up- His buddy Elger, who's sitting next to him, has noticed, and stares at Julius with a weird look on his face. I quickly look away before he can connect the dots, but it might already be too late. "Ignore him!"

Alice giggles. "My, you must have really rocked his world last night-"

"ALICE."

Even after the conversation moves on, I can feel those eyes burning into my skin. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, but at the core of it is excitement. It takes everything in me to not stare back at him, make bedroom eyes, and let him whisk me away somewhere private. Well... that's not such a bad idea...

I still want him. Even if I have the rest of the day ahead of me, I want him now. 

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To wash my dish! I'm not that hungry." I smooth out my cloak after I stand up, making sure to talk loud enough that the other end of the table can hear. "See you guys soon." With that, I turn and sashay off, fighting the urge to glance back at the table. All I can do is hope that this vague plan works...

But of course it does.

"Heyya."

As soon as I finish washing my dishes, Julius is already up and leaning against the kitchen doorframe, his usual smile on his face. "Oh, hi!" I greet, giving him a smile of my own. My pulse quickens as I struggle to move onto the next phase of my plan. Luckily, he does it for me.

"Want to go talk in private?"

"...yeah!"

And so, we head off upstairs, to his office. The entire walk there is filled with tension, so thick I could choke. I barely notice when he shuts the door behind us, I'm so lost in my thoughts. Now what? I'm not used to taking this type of initiative... oooh, what if he thinks I'm being to presumptuous? No, no,of course not... well-

"So... I've been thinking." Julius suddenly speaks before I can get my first word in. "We should start seriously sizing everyone up, and figure out who might be our culprits."

"...huh?" I blink, so lost in my self-made adrenaline that I can't immediately catch up.

Julius frowns. "You know? The ones who attacked you?"

"OH. Right!" I connect the dots and let out a nervous laugh. Get yourself together! Don't look like an idiot, at least... "Right, right, right... it's not fun to think about, but I suppose I have to."

"I'm sorry." Julius moves over to his desk and leans against it, his feet planted firmly on the ground. My eyes drift over his strong legs before quickly flickering away. Now that we're having an important conversation, I can't just derail it by jumping him right now... despite how delicious he looks. 

"Are you okay?"

Fuck! I just started going off into another daze. I jump a little as I feel his hand on my shoulder, and I blush a little as I let myself look up at his concerned face. "I know it's overwhelming, but I want to get to the bottom of this, okay?" I nod slowly, prompting him to lean in and press a sweet kiss to my forehead. I can't help but let a smile flicker on my face for a moment. "You know what you mean to me now... we can talk about this more later, though, okay?"

"...okay..." I lean forward and press my face into his chest, a gesture he accepts eagerly. The safe feeling of his arms around me threatens to make me melt right then and there, but then I realize that I have an opening.

"Julius?"

"Mhmm?"

"I was... uh... thinking."

"Thinking? Really?" I pinch his arm as he teases me with mock-disbelief. "About what?"

"...about..." I gulp, glad he can't see my face right now. "er... l-last night."

It's hardly noticeable, but I feel his grip shift at the words, just enough to make me realize that he's been thinking about it, too.

"Is that so?" His voice hasn't changed, still calm and comforting. "What about it?"

"You know..."

He finally gives me a real reaction, a soft laugh that I feel more than hear. "Right... I had a good time, you know."

A little pang of guilt hits me again. "Did you?"

"...yeah!" He suddenly pulls back to smile down at me, his narrowed eyes taking in my embarrassed face. "I always have a good time with you."

"Yeah, but- uh-" I feel a little frustration. I don't want him to think I'm so timid after last night! That was just a fluke! He's being so careful with me... I need to be more aggressive! 

"I mean it, don't worry." Julius's hand lands on my head and strokes it softly, which incidentally gives me an idea. "I thought I made it pretty clear... you're special to me, and even though I'd love to go farther with you, I want to go at a rate you're comfortable with- AH! W-what are you doing-?"

Julius cuts himself off, his voice wavering nervously as I suddenly kneel down in the middle of his little spiel. "I'm showing you that I'm perfectly fine with this rate- or whatever-" I tell him quickly, willing myself forward before I chicken out. I run my hands up his thighs, my heart skipping beats with every band of muscle I feel. "I mean... if you want me to?" I look up at him through my eyelashes, my lip pouting just slightly. I might be naive about a lot of things... but I know how to get what I want. 

The concern in Julius's eyes fades slightly, not quite disappearing all the way, but it's replaced by something else. Almost like curiosity... but more than anything, want.

"... go on."

I give him a little grin, finally letting my hands continue sliding up. Julius sucks in a little breath, for the most part silent as he stares down at me, his mouth twitching just slightly as I avoid his crotch and go for his belt instead. The anticipation is killing me, and it must be doing the same to him, but I will myself to be patient and make him so hungry for it, he can't resist. I want him to let go of his fear, and let himself pull me close, to let me in. He's a lonely man, and I want to help... in whatever way I can. And right now, this is how I do it.

"Here, let me help-"

Julius is quick to reach down and make quick work of the belt I was fumbling with, the zipper quickly following. Last night, I got to feel him up but couldn't actually get a look at him since I... passed out and all. But now, there's nowhere else to look as he pulls the front of his pants down and lets his already-stiff cock spring out at me. 

Oh shit-

It's bigger than I remember feeling last night, and I can't help but stare for a long moment, my mouth slightly open. I'm drooling, yeah, but it's also very intimidating. And it doesn't help when I feel that hand on the back of my head, pulling me in. "Take your time... but not too much time." Julius bites his lip and glances at the door. "We are in a shared office after all."

He's right, and I give a little nod before finally leaning in and letting my tongue dart out. Julius nearly spasms when I go right for the sensitive tip, sucking once before pulling off and kissing lightly around the spot. "Oh, you have a little technique?" he asks, his voice still steady.

"What did you expect?" I mumble back, fighting off a blush as I catch a glance of him staring at me. "I'm not innocent... not that innocent." To express my point, I lick up his length once deliberately, finally getting a reaction. I feel his knees wobble slightly, and his hand suddenly knots in my hair.

"Of course not... you'll be good and innocent for me, though, won't you?"

The words send a pleasant chill down my neck, the soft growl in his voice, stirring many forgotten emotions within me. This is nothing like it is with Lawrence. It's not so much a demand when Julius pushes me down onto his cock, softly moaning as I finally get to work some magic. It's... a plead. "Ah- y-ou're good that this-" Julius breathes out, his hand pushing me faster, more deliberately. He's coming undone, a lot quicker than he expected, and despite the way his cock chokes me and tears form at the corner of my eyes, I almost smile. This is what I wanted, for him to feel good because of something I'm doing. He only pauses once to sit down in his chair, his limbs weakening. I take the opportunity to pull myself off and smirk up at him, my cheek resting against his inner thigh while my hand teasingly strokes him. "Enjoying yourself?"

"What do you think?" Julius, despite being out of breath, flashes me a grin, his hand stroking down to my neck once. "Don't tell me you're getting tired." I shake my head quickly. "Good girl."

I lean back down to continue, this time his hand restricting my movements, slowing them. Despite saying that we needed to be quick, Julius is taking his time now, determined to milk me (or- er- himself-) for all I'm worth. I can't help but think about Lawrence in the moment, how he would react one day once I leave him to take the arm of my gorgeous vice captain. How indignant he would be, how enraged to find out that I willingly pleasured this man. Every aspect of this experience...

It's thrilling.

He starts poking into the back of my throat, and I whimper slightly at the foreign feeling, struggling to keep taking it. Despite how I was talking before, my stamina is terrible and I'm not sure if I'm going to hold on for much longer. "I'm almost there, baby, I promise-" Julius grunts out, one hand gripping the side of his desk while the other starts setting an unmerciful place. I just weakly whine in response, my throat starting to burn a bit. "You're being so good- I'm going to make you cum so fucking hard after this-" The promise makes another jolt of adrenaline go through me, the thought of him doing this to me quite exciting. "God- ah-"

Just as he starts to lose himself, something grabs his attention. Maybe it's a sixth sense, or maybe he was using his time magic to check ahead, but Julius freezes up before he reaches a climax. I blink my eyes open to see his own widening, a look of shock and fear on his face.

"Fuck-"

There's no time to hide. Just as the word leaves his mouth, the door swings open and the other vice captain Malota walks in. Julius lets out a squawk of surprise and nearly jumps in his seat in a vain attempt to react, but only manages to knock his knee super hard against the bottom of his desk. "YOUCH-" The shout leaves his mouth as he panics, disoriented, horny, and scared.

"Julius-"

The only good thing about this situation is that I'm hidden behind his desk, and from where Malota is standing right now, she can't see me. But still, she stops in her tracks at Julius's reaction, arching a thin brow as he does nothing but sit there and pant, slowly turning red.

"Julius... were you-" A look of slight disgust crosses her vulture-like features, and her eyes just glance down at the table, very aware of the presence behind it, before rising back up to her comrade's embarrassed face.

"You know what... I don't want to know."

Without another word, Malota swiftly turns around and races out of the room, her face becoming indifferent again. A moment later, the door slams shut, and the two of us are left alone once again.

"... "

Neither of us dare to move. Julius's eyes stay fixed on the door as Malota's footsteps fade away, before looking back down at me. He lets out a soft sigh, the corners of his mouth twitching at the sight of me staring up at him with his cock still in my mouth (it's not like I had time to move! And plus, the hand on my neck is heavy-). "That was... close."

He finally lets go, and I draw in a shaky breath as I sit up, my throat awfully dry after the recent abuse it just received. "S-she didn't see me, did she-"

"No, no, she didn't!" Julius assures me, glancing at the door again, his fingers deftly brushing the hair out of my face. "Malota wouldn't care anyway, don't worry." he gives me a reassuring smile before licking his lips a little. "So... are you-"

Wait, he wants me to continue? After we got walked in on?! I blink a few times, too aghast to say anything at the moment. Julius laughs sheepishly. "I mean, she's probably not coming back, right?"

"...right..."

Somehow, I find myself smiling once again. Julius mirrors it, his pulse quickening as he grabs the back of my head again. "I think we're going to get along famously."

Julius doesn't beat around the bush this time. He thrusts down my throat again and again, his hips raising just slightly to meet my lips each time, his hands guiding me at his pace. I handle it a lot better this time, feeling satisfied every time he moans under my touch. He doesn't say anything, but I know he's getting close by the way his movements become sloppy, and his cock twitches needily. I give him exactly what he wants, sucking hard for a few thrusts. And that's it- With one last pleasured sound, Julius pushes me down and cums, hard. I wasn't planning on spitting anything out, but I still gag a bit as his release hits my throat, hot and thick and almost too much for me to handle.

For a few blissful moments, he just sits there, tensed up with his eyes squeezed shut. Then, finally, he lets go of me.

Not completely, though. His hands gently take hold of my shoulders as I sit up and cough a little, taking a few deep breaths through my nose. I'm a little dizzy and can't really see through my blurry eyes, but I feel overwhelming satisfaction. I did it... Julius, you're mine, you hear! I want to make him feel like this, again and again, and for him to do the same to me. Maybe love is something I can't handle right now... but I can let myself be close to him.

Eventually... love will follow.

The sensation of his fingers on my face pulls me from my thoughts. Julius chuckles, worn out, and traces the corners of my lip with a fingertip. "You missed some-" he states, swiping up the remains of his cum and pushing his finger into my mouth. I whine a little at the movement but get my revenge by sucking once. Julius sucks in a breath and quickly removes the digit. "Ah ah- don't tease me, or I'll have to punish you~"

"Punish?" I repeat, reaching up and rubbing my eyes. When I blink them open again, I can see just fine, the blur of the passionate moment gone. "I thought I deserved a reward."

"Oh, that's right. Here-"

Before I can do anything, his hands close around my waist and hoist me up, so easily that it makes me squeak out in surprise. The moment he set me down on the desk, his lips are on mine, his arms holding me as close as can be. I eagerly kiss back, my sore jaw enjoying the respite, and reach up to cup his face with my hands. Julius pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, and the look of sparkling admiration in his own catches me off guard. "What?"

"Hmm?" Julius seems to almost be lost in thought. "Oh, it's just... I like you."

"...?" I frown a little. Isn't that obvious? "Well, that's good to know."

A little laugh comes from his nose, and his goofy smile widens. "No, I mean- Ah, you're full of surprises, and I like that... not just with this... kind of stuff, but also with- you know-" Julius's words are fumbled, almost incoherent He finally spares himself and cuts himself off with a shake of his head. "Never mind, don't listen to me, I'm just being an old sap."

Despite his sheepishness, I somehow understand what he was trying to say. With just a little difficulty, I lean up and kiss his forehead softly. "It's okay... I feel the same way, Julius."

"...I'm glad. Thank you."

With that, he buries himself back into my embrace, our lips moving so perfectly that it seems like they were made for each other. I close my eyes and start to get lost again, pure joy overtaking all logic and guilt in my mind. For a brief moment, Lawrence doesn't exist, my attacker doesn't exist, nothing does... nothing in this world matters but him. 

At least, just for that moment. Because the door slams open a minute later.

"Julius! Sorry to interrupt again, but-"

Both of us scream and whirl around, still holding each other, to see Malota run in again. For the first time, the emotion on her face seems real, the shock of seeing me, a girl engaged to a prince, being kissed by Julius. We sit there in silence for a moment, but then, in true Malota fashion, she sighs deeply, all emotion leaving her face.

"...I won't ask... but-" She straightens up. "We're leaving."

"Leaving?" Julius repeats nervously. I can feel his heart racing through his chest. "What's happening?"

"Apparently the Diamond Kingdom's been attacking the border since yesterday-" Malota explains, shocking us both. "But the Crimson Lion Kings were sent to handle it in secret. Now we're being called in."

We're being called in... wait... A jolt of fear shoots through me. That means... the Crimson Lions failed! The Diamond Kingdom beat them?!

"I see- the whole squad is going?"

"Yes. Our briefing is in 2 minutes." We can hear footsteps all around the base now, thundering urgently in the rush to get ready. "Be down there beforehand."

"Right." Julius's face is stony now, but flinches slightly as Malota turns to leave again. "Er- Malota- about this-"

"Don't worry. I don't care anyway-" Malota assures him before disappearing once again.

With a deep sigh, Julius lets go of me, helping me get off the desk. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, still looking pale. "She saw us- I should have been more careful."

"Maybe... but we have a bigger problem now." That familiar pre-battle feeling is already coursing through my veins. Trying to ignore the dread balling up inside me, I reach down and take his hand one last time. 

The Diamond Kingdom...

Maybe, for a moment, the world didn't exist. But now, it's crashing down on all of us.

[gilesian]

CHARACTER STATS

LAYER 001: THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Rupert Edmund Giles

EYE COLOUR: green, with a fleck of brown on the left eye.

HAIR STYLE/COLOUR: dark brown, in later years fading into a fetching ashy grey.

HEIGHT: 6′

CLOTHING STYLE: watcher’s tweeds and rumpled shirt & tie; gentleman of leisure with soft jumpers, leather coat, and old, comfortable jeans; middle aged (magic) businessman in a nice suit and that blue shirt. all paired with sensible leather boots because hey a watcher must be prepared.

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: uh. his disarmingly soft smile, i think.

LAYER 002: THE INSIDE

FEARS: his loved ones dying.

GUILTY PLEASURE: quiz shows. never mind the buzzcocks. living in america had deprived him of his quality entertainment that he had to turn to soap opera, poor man.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: snotty know-it-all, people who abuse their power.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: that there always will be a tomorrow.

LAYER 003: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: ‘I’m thirsty.’ followed by what to cook for breakfast. if he’d just been knocked out it’d probably be ‘oh bollocks, again?’.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: measures and means to dispatch of the big bad(s) the Slayer have to fight, random snippet of songs if he isn’t busy. doesn’t ponder about his past grievances or mistakes as much as people might think.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: if he works himself to sleep he won’t be thinking of anything, which is a state he often pushes himself into. it’s been decades since eyghon but he’s still wary of vivid dreams.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: his willingness to learn.

LAYER 004: WHAT’S BETTER?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: single

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: what is one without the other?

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: both

DOGS OR CATS: between the two it’s cats, but other than that it’s horses. have you ever seen giles on a horse, galloping in the fields? he isn’t half bad.

LAYER 005: DO THEY...

LIE: yes. (whether he’s good at it remains the question.)

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: yes.

BELIEVE IN LOVE: yes.

WANT SOMEONE: alas, he’s single and not ready to mingle more often than not.

LAYER 006: HAVE THEY EVER...

BEEN ONSTAGE: oh, yeah. sang and played guitar for a (terrible) punk band in the 70s.

DONE DRUGS: yes.

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: only all the bloody time. ripper had a put on accent, rougher than how he normally speaks. between that and in-series i don’t think he gave much thought to who he is, and rather focused on who he ought to be since giles tried hard to be the perfect, by-the-book watcher for Buffy. thank fuck he quickly realised she isn’t suited for that. i believe the most balanced giles had ever been as himself and as his role was in S4-5.

LAYER 007: FAVOURITES

FAVOURITE COLOUR: earthy tones. blues. a splash of red.

FAVOURITE ANIMAL: horse.

FAVOURITE BOOK: huh. when’s the last time he read something for pleasure? likes a bit of high fiction like The Lord of the Rings.

FAVOURITE GAME: tetris. crosswords.

LAYER 008: AGE

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: 20 December

HOW OLD WILL THEY BE: 40s, depending on the verse.

LAYER 009: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I LOVE: Reign O’er Me

I FEEL: alone alright

I HIDE: my past

I MISS: home

I WISH: I had done better

TAGGED BY: @johnconstantfine​ cheers~ TAGGING: y o u

[mj-spooks]

Alright, judging by how successful that last Harry Potter experimental question was, Buffy's scooby gang, as a Leverage Crew? Is it too simple to say Buffy as a hitter and Giles as a mastermind?

Which version of the gang are we talking here? Can I go across the whole series? Season 1 only? All Stars? Fuck it I’m cherry picking because THAT’S HOW WE DO.

So, Giles is absolutely on the money. He’s the Mastermind, no doubt. He’s the watcher, he trains the others (mostly Buffy and Faith, but let’s be real, he trains all of them in their own way), he’s the one that works things out, leads research parties, comes up with plans. He’s the Mastermind, at least at first. Like Nate, he graduates out of that position (although I think the others sort of share it after he steps down, rather than one person picking it up).

But Buffy’s not the hitter.

Buffy is the grifter.

Think about it. Pretty, blonde, posterchild for popularity. She’s charismatic. She’s endearing.  You like her. You’d probably do anything she asked you to. She’s an an excellent liar, a brilliant actor. She plays the part. The only reason she doesn’t have Sunnydale wrapped around her fucking finger is because all the bullshit with demons and vampires is Too Obvious for no one to ever notice how weird she is. If they could be even slightly more subtle, or pick slightly more convenient times to get up to their nonsense, no one would ever suspect she was anything but what she looks like.

No, the hitter? That’s Faith. And yes, I’m counting her as a Scooby. My girl got done dirty, alright. Granted, she did some people pretty dirty as well. But she was a teenage girl with a really shitty childhood, and I’m not one to use the shitty childhood as a get out of jail free card (get it), but dude. Dude. Every single thing that could’ve gone wrong for her, did. And every time the team had a chance to prove she could trust them, they fucked it up. Mostly Wesley fucked it up, but let’s not go there. And did I mention she was a teenage girl? Also, it helps that she was only Properly Evil for like, a few months, after which she was in a coma, and was Properly Evil for all of five minutes before deciding “Actually I just wanna be Buffy,” because guess what, she never WANTED to be the bad guy-

I’m getting off topic. The point is. Faith is the brawn, alright? Post-Faith, I guess that position goes to Spike, who let’s face it, is basically Buffy’s backup/guard dog from the moment he realizes he can still kill demons, and especially after his big “Oh shit I love the slayer” realization. For the record, bad decisions being made by an ostensibly helplessly evil soulless monster aside, no one EVER had Buffy’s back like Spike did. Not a single damn person. Fucking fight me. Every. Single. Other. Person. Let her down. Constantly. Or they were never in a positoin to properly have her back in the first place. The one time he really did screw it up, he realized how fucked up he was, and went off and got a fucking soul for her, so basically

Riley, for the record, is not a Hitter and does NOT count as a Scooby, because screw that guy. Also while I’m on the subject, screw Xander, because the episode where Riley leaves and Xander gives Buffy the “you’re the bad guy” speech sits so fucking wrong with me, and Xander goddamn Harris can get fucking bent. I’m still off topic, I know, I know. Sorry, I just. I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS ABOUT BUFFY.

ANYWAY. Willow is the hacker, big fucking shock. She’s... she’s literally a hacker, okay. Even when she stops being all computer-y and starts being all witch-y, her approach to witchcraft is... is to hack it. She hacks magic. Literally. That’s what gets her in so much trouble with it, because she’s too fucking good at cheating the system. It’s how she brought Buffy back. She’s the goddamned Hacker. Age. Of. The. Fucking. Geek. Baby.

Thief............ hmph. I don’t know?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

See, the thing is, basically all of the properly involved Scoobies had to steal something at one point or another, all with basically the same level of success, so... wait.

Okay. No. The thief is Dawn.

She’s literally a thief! She steals from everybody all the goddamned time! With varying degrees of success, sure. But if she was actually trained at it, she’d be better than all of them. She’s the only Little Sibling out of the bunch (Well, okay, Tara had an older brother, but her homelife was so fucked she has Very Different Younger Sister energy than Dawn). She has a specific talent for it that I bet would serve her well if she was actually trained. I honestly at this point have read so much fanfic that I cannot for the life or me remember if canon!Spike ever helped teach her to knick stuff or if that’s just widely accepted fanon!Spike because people love that dynamic (as they should, it’s great). I’m doing a rewatch but... uh... I kinda stopped partway through S5 because I’m like four episodes away from The Body and gods I just can’t take it. Point being, I dunno if that’s legit or not. BUT. If it were legit, and she was taught how to steal, she’d be great at it.

I guess Spike is kind of also the thief. But he’s also the only one of the scoobies that’s properly been a villain (I’m not counting Faith or Willow’s brief insanity, and Angel isn’t the villain, Angelus is, so...), so naturally he’s got the shady skills. He can kind of grift and mastermind, too, except he’s too impatient for it, which is why he ends up stuck as a hitter most of the time. Everything else is too slow for his ass. See, the entirety of S2.

For fun, under the cut, the remaining scoobies and what position they’re best suited for:

Xander: Hitter??? He’s not got the super strength and he’s kind of played for laughs, but there was that whole bit where he had the tactical training from his brief stint as GI Joe in the Halloween episode. He’s a decent tactician, which is kind of the hitter’s job. I bet that if the wasn’t so busy feeling inferior to Buffy and he actually like. Trained. He could be a decent fighter.

Cordelia: Straight fucking grifter. Which she proves plenty of times on Angel. It’s extra great because she basically IS Sophie, what with the whole “can grift like a boss but put her on stage and she’s terrible” bit. She’s also a decent mastermind, also showcased on Angel. She whips him into shape from day one, and is the only thing that keeps AI running half the time. Also not unlike Sophie. Honestly Cordelia is my favorite character from the OG cast. She deserved better.

Angel: Mastermind. He’s got all of Angelus’ brains, remember, just not necessarily any reason to use them. He’s smart, though, and definitely good at planning. He’s also really into knowing the most and keeping his cards close to his chest. The parallels with Nate are a little strong, honestly, because he also has that whole... guilty conscience spiraling downward holier than thou thing going on. And yes, I do ship him and Cordy, thanks for asking.

Oz: Hacker! Not a lot of people really remember this, since his prominent character traits were “In a band”, “Willow’s boyfriend”, and “werewolf”. Plus there’s the whole flunked-senior-year plot point which I honestly think they did just to keep him around. But the first time Oz actually properly interacted with Willow was because they’d both gotten singled out for their badass computer skills on career day. He’s very nearly as good as her.

Anya: Grifter. I mean, the whole vengeance demon schtick relies on the grift. She’s very good at it. Which, she ought to be, she’s been doing it for over a thousand years. It’s sort of hilarious though because it seems like the second she loses her powers, she also loses her ability to blend in. I think that’s likely because she’s used to short term cons, and running the long con that is being human again is more difficult. Still, this is where she shines.

Riley: He doesn’t count because I kinda hate him. But fine if you wanna go there. Hitter. He doesn’t deserve the title though because Eliot is both brains and brawn and Riley can’t think his way out of a paper sack without someone giving him directions, and even then it’s dicey.

Tara: This one is super hard for me! I can’t see her as any of the actual team positions. I suppose the one skill she displays would be grifting, since she does try to hide her identity as a supposed demon from the others for a while before her birthday comes up. But honestly I see her less as a member of the crew and more as a Maggie. Voice of reason, moral high ground, not putting up with shenanigans if she can help it... yeah. Tara’s the Maggie. Every crew needs one.

[keyofjetwolf]

Hey, Jet, what do you do when a character you loved does something that you find unforgivable that you just can't look past I loved Giles before he abandoned Buffy AFTER he found out she considered her post-resurrection life a literal hell. Bcs she was depending on him too much. WTF!? Buffy is so clearly depressed, even suicidal, and he's supporting her TOO MUCH? I've been suicidal and if my family had abandoned me like Giles did I would not be here today. (1/2)

Giles' betrayal was so awful that I can't even really enjoy the earlier episodes anymore because every time I see them act like comrades or friends or father-daughter I think, "This is a lie. You'll abandon her when she needs you most bcs she's not conforming to your idea of a stiff upper lip you sick, hypocritical fuck." And I hate it because I used to love Buffy and Giles and he isn't exactly a character you can avoid through careful episode selection. Any advice? (2/2)

That’s so so rough. Something like that can just destroy a character, and sometimes take the whole series with them. I didn’t personally experience that with Giles, but I completely get how it can happen. I can offer you two possible ways to look at. Maybe it’ll help! I hope it does. But realistically speaking, it may be that nothing will at this point. In the same way that loving a character can be a deeply personal thing, so too is hating them. Whether or not you can come to terms with what Giles did is entirely your call. It’s okay if you can’t.

And when I say “it’s okay if you can’t”, I don’t mean it doesn’t matter that your enjoyment has been ruined because of course it does. But it’s okay in the sense that you’re allowed to feel the way you do.

BUT YES OKAY SO GILES

Option One, if you’re willing or able to allow it to impact your viewpoint, focuses on the extra universe. Season Six is a shitstorm of terrible decisions. Every single character makes supremely bad choices, because S6 is all about life and misery. Giles isn’t excluded from that. His choices affect others more than himself, but that’s due in part to the fact that it involves him leaving.

Which brings us to the greater extra universe reason it happened: after five years, Tony Head was feeling the strain of working in Los Angeles and having family in England. He requested to be written out (while promising to come back for special appearances), and the creators accommodated him. They did it in a really shitty way that didn’t serve Giles at all (because they were going for the easy pain, not out of any vindictiveness, I feel), but ultimately they were trying to make it so Tony could be with his daughters and we could still have Giles. Maybe that will ease the sting for you a little, maybe it won’t, I don’t know.

Option Two focuses more on Giles’ character. I get that you’re angry with him, and deservedly so. But when Giles leaves, if you can step away from the emotion of the moment a little, I think it’s clear that he’s doing what he thinks is best. HE IS CATASTROPHICALLY INCORRECT DON’T GET ME WRONG. Everything you say about walking away from Buffy when she needs him most is true. But he BELIEVES he’s doing what she needs. It’s hard for her AND him, but he’s willing to do it, to take all her pain and anger, all his guilt and isolation, if it’ll help her stand on her own again.

We also have to consider that we know more about where Buffy’s at than Giles does. He gets a glimpse in “Once More, With Feeling”, as they all do, but it’s not until much later that even the people who live with her recognize how far she’s fallen. Hell, it’s not until toward the end of the season that Buffy even realizes how badly she’s doing.

In a perfect world, the people who love us most will always know the right thing to say and the right thing to do to make it all okay, but this is far from a perfect world. Sometimes their best is all anyone can do, and sometimes, sadly, that best is just nowhere near enough.

For me PERSONALLY, I fault Giles for not seeing enough and not thinking his decision through, but that’s about as far as I can take it. I don’t feel he was acting out of selfishness or cruelty, and I don’t feel he betrayed Buffy. He got it wrong, but his intentions were right. He was acting out of love for her, and -- for me, at any rate -- that goes a long way.

But like I said, it’s your call if you can forgive him or look past it. If none of this helps you (and you still really want to try), maybe consider why his actions have upset you so much. See if you can separate out an emotional response that you might be projecting on him or Buffy or the situation. Sometimes if that can be untangled, it can be easier to deal with something. But sometimes it ultimately doesn’t matter, and again, if you just can’t get past it, you’re entitled to feel however you feel.

I hope you manage to work it out.

[jennycalendar]

dragonslayers

read on ao3!

"but the truth is, there really isn’t any right thing to say sometimes. sometimes you just have to leave.”

jenny, anya, and tara struggle to figure themselves out beyond the love that's defined them since they came to sunnydale.

so: my love letter to my three favorite characters on btvs. like, these are three girls who all kinda never got an arc outside The Girlfriend, and i love them, and they deserve to be happy with an adorable dog. it’s the sequel to another fic i wrote, like, a year ago, which you can read if you want to (please. do), but all you Really need to know is that jenny came back as a ghost & anya was instrumental in resurrecting her all the way. anyway! please read!

Jenny Calendar is alive.

And that should seem like something huge and dizzying, shouldn’t it?

“Mix it,” says Anya, then, “Mix it,” then, “Fucking morons don’t know how to mix the fucking batter,” and upends the popcorn all over the coffee table as she reaches, violently, for her beer. Rupert winces a little and slips his arm around Jenny’s shoulder, tugging her away from what looks to be an unpleasant spill.

Rupert smells like cologne and a touch of alcohol. Somewhere along the line, he lost that comforting, soft smell of pressed linen that came from the way he used to iron his shirts. Jenny misses that smell, but she doesn’t want to tell him that, because he looks so devastatingly happy to have her in his arms again. She can’t take that happiness away from him.

“The fuckers didn’t mix it,” says Anya a little tearfully, “they’re not going to make it to the next round.” She falls back against the couch, defeated.

Anya watches cooking shows like most people watch football, lately. Jenny thinks it’s because Xander did most of the cooking and Anya doesn’t want to admit she misses him, so she settles for aggressively surrounding herself with things that remind her of him and never once mentioning his name. She’s not sure how well that’s going for anyone.

Rupert presses his mouth to Jenny’s neck, playfully, and grins when she looks up at him. He looks at her with that same in-love smile that she’s been seeing since she got back. “Would you like to get out of here in a few?” he says, like Anya’s not on the verge of a total emotional breakdown right next to them.

“I think I wanna see how this show goes,” says Jenny evasively, and turns her attention back to the TV.

Rupert’s not living in his apartment anymore; he sold it back when Buffy was dead. He flinches whenever someone uses the phrase when Buffy was dead, which makes Jenny feel a little guilty when she thinks it, but—Rupert can’t read her thoughts. Small mercies.

Right now, they’re in his hotel room, and they’re probably two buttons, one skirt, and a few more minutes of kissing away from having sex, and Jenny feels absolutely nothing. And she doesn’t like that she feels nothing, because this is the man she loved enough to make her want to live. Like, sure, it was Anya who got Jenny to fight her way back to life, but it was Rupert who made her even consider coming back in the first place.

She thinks about all that time spent studying him across the Magic Box, wanting to know all about him, what he’d become over the last few years. She thinks about how she got a dizzy, breathless rush every time she thought about getting to hold him again. But there’s a hollowness to him that repels her, makes her want to stumble out of the bedroom and never look back.

The thing is, though, Jenny still loves some part of him. She does. When she thinks about the first time she was alive, the way she felt falling in love with him—it’s enough to keep her kissing him now, because she so desperately wants that feeling back.

“I love you,” says Rupert against her collarbone, and finishes with the last two buttons of her blouse, pushing it down her shoulders carelessly. Only a few weeks in and he’s forgotten she was ever dead.

“I love you too,” says Jenny, because she has to. She must have just forgotten how.

Jenny places her hand on the table of the Magic Box and wills it to slip through. Strange how she felt more corporeal when she was a ghost.

“I had to stop by Xander’s place today to pick up some things,” says Anya from next to her, distantly, and Jenny feels the soft, fluttery rush of companionship when she looks up at her friend. She knows she shouldn’t be so happy that Anya’s just as off-balance as she is, but it’s comforting to know that there’s someone else who doesn’t know exactly what they’re doing. “I called ahead and he said he would be out while I was there, to make it easier on him.” She looks up at Jenny, expression impassive, and adds, “You know, I don’t really know if he ever thought about what I wanted. I think he put himself first a lot more than he had a right to.”

Jenny considers this. Then she says, “I think Rupert’s in love with the woman who died,” and god, that hurts to say out loud.

“And you’re not the woman who died?” says Anya, sounding genuinely confused by the concept.

“I don’t know,” says Jenny truthfully. “But I feel like he’s just—” She swallows, hard. “He kisses me like all he wants to do is kiss me,” she says. “And neither of us talk about anything actually substantial, ever, it’s just lots and lots of reunion sex. Like there’s nothing he wants to do but that.”

Anya frowns a little, taking this in. Jenny’s half-expecting her to ask why reunion sex is such a bad thing (Anya has, after all, talked pretty recently and pretty loudly about how she’d really like to get laid some time soon), but then she says, “You know, Giles hasn’t had a serious relationship in the entire time I’ve known him. There was that Olivia thing, plus that one time he hooked up with Ethan again, but I don’t think he’s ever had anything like what he had with you, and I think that that’s really messed him up.” She smiles, a little wobbly. “I know I’ve never had a friend like you,” she says, “because, you know, Hallie and I haven’t really been close since the whole human thing, and that relationship was built on a lot of vengeance and murder anyway, and, and I know I’m messed up. Not having people in your life who you love can really, really mess a person up.”

“Anya,” says Jenny softly, and turns all the way to take Anya’s hands in hers. Anya won’t (can’t?) look at her. “Anya. You’re not messed up.”

“If I was good,” says Anya, “then he wouldn’t have left me.” She sounds near tears. “I don’t even miss him as much as I miss knowing—” Her voice breaks, and she jerks her hands away from Jenny’s to scrub roughly at her face. “I miss knowing that someone loved me,” she said. “I miss knowing that someone wanted me to kiss them for forever.”

Jenny swallows hard. “I miss that too,” she says.

Anya sniffles, finally looking up. “Giles wants that with you, though, doesn’t he?” she asks, sounding half-hopeful, like if she can’t be happy she at least wants Jenny to.

Jenny shakes her head. “He wants someone to kiss,” she says. “And the way I died—I think he thinks his only possible happy ending is with me.”

“That’s stupid,” says Anya decisively. “You should tell him that it’s stupid.”

Jenny thinks about the way Rupert looked as she was leaving his hotel bedroom today, the fragility in his smile. “He’s nearly reached his breaking point,” she says. “I don’t know what’ll happen if I push him any further.”

“Jenny—” Anya looks suddenly very upset by this. “Jenny,” she says. “Jenny, that’s why I stayed with Xander. That’s why I never told him about all the stuff I wanted from him. You can’t do that to Giles or he’ll end up breaking your heart into a million billion pieces and I don’t want your heart broken, I want his heart in pieces on the floor, Jenny, all over the damn floor like fine powder—” And then she really is crying, shoulder-shaking sobs that have her hiding her face in her hands.

Jenny wants to reach out to Anya, but she’s sort of reeling. That is what happened with Xander, isn’t it? Anya shutting herself down because she was just so desperate to keep a half-working relationship functioning in a way that kept both of them kissing.

“But it’s Rupert,” she says, helplessly, softly, “and I love him.”

A particular moment that Jenny remembers when she looks into Rupert’s eyes is the one and only time they left Sunnydale together. It was only a few hours before a supernatural crisis meant they had to go back home, but they made it to a gas station and bought a lot of candy bars and kissed in the sunlight outside Jenny’s car. She wonders if their relationship was always something that could only sustain itself within a certain time frame, within a certain geographic region, within a certain set of variables.

Rupert is lying on the bed when she comes in, staring up at the ceiling like all he’s been doing is waiting for her to come back. Jenny wants to talk to him about politics or art or science or all the things they used to talk about all those years ago, but the words stick in her throat when he looks up at her with that empty affection, smiling at her with unearned adoration. She represents a part of his past that he lost, a part of his future that he wants. She doesn’t know if she can do that anymore.

“I love you,” she says, and she wishes she meant it all the way. Those first few days after Anya’s almost-wedding, she believed it, lost in being close to him again, but the words have fumbled and faded until she’s not sure who she loves anymore. She barely knows this man. He contains someone she loved a very, very long time ago.

“I love you too,” says Rupert, then, “What’s the matter?”

Jenny wants to leave Sunnydale, after, except Anya’s still there and the one concrete thing about this absolute mess is that Jenny absolutely loves Anya, so she drives to Anya’s new apartment. It’s raining, and Anya isn’t home yet, so she slumps against the front door and waits, rain plastering her hair to her face.

There are things she does like about being alive again, like the way rain feels and the way the cold permeates her leather jacket. Even pain is something; it means she’s feeling, and that was something she was deprived of for an intolerably long amount of time. It’s sort of like how people must have felt after color TV was invented, Jenny thinks. Like everything’s just that little bit more real.

Anya comes up with a bag of groceries and sees Jenny, and she gets this horribly sad look on her face that makes Jenny start crying, because shit, Anya really does know her. She feels Anya reach up to hug her very tightly, and then they’re in the warm apartment lobby and Anya’s sitting her down on a couch.

“So,” says Anya. “You and Giles.”

“I think I broke his heart,” says Jenny, and sniffles, not sure whether she’s wiping away tears or rainwater. Both, probably. She was out in the rain for a while.

“You really didn’t,” says Anya. “He hasn’t known you long enough to be heartbroken. Not this you, anyway. He’ll deal.”

“I want to help him—”

“There’s only so much you can do,” says Anya, and the sweetly earnest look in her eyes makes Jenny feel—warm. That’s the simplest way of putting it. “I was with Xander for so long in part because I wanted to believe that some day I’d just magically know the right thing to say, you know? But the truth is, there really isn’t any right thing to say sometimes. Sometimes you just have to leave.”

“I love him so much,” says Jenny, but when she says it, she’s thinking of the Rupert Giles with soft eyes who kissed her nose in the faculty room and held her close in the library.

“You can’t, though,” says Anya, and reaches for Jenny’s hand. “You don’t know him yet.”

“But there’s time,” says Jenny.

“There is,” says Anya. “Now’s not that time.”

Anya has a cat. She hasn’t named it, mostly because it’s an outdoor cat that wanders around in her living room, eats some of the food she puts out for it, and then leaves for weeks on end, but she’s always worried it’ll get eaten by a vampire while it’s out.

“Vampires go for humans,” Jenny reminds her, “and that cat’s scary fast. I don’t think any vampire would be interested in trying to chase it down.”

“Hmm,” says Anya, in a way that means she doesn’t think Jenny knows what she’s talking about, and goes back to baking cupcakes. She’s checked out a bunch of books on cooking from the Sunnydale Memorial Library (everything in this town has memorial tacked on somewhere; it gets depressing real fast), and today her food of choice is Rainbow Cupcakes with Black Frosting. Lots of terrifying dyes involved. Jenny thinks she needs to remind Anya that she’s mortal now.

The doorbell rings. Jenny freezes. She hasn’t seen Rupert since—well—

“That’s not Giles,” says Anya helpfully, and puts down the sugar, crossing the room to open the door. “I think it’s Tara. I asked her to come over.”

This takes Jenny a little by surprise; Anya and Tara aren’t by any means close. “You asked her?”

Tara steps in, holding a small cactus and a bag slung over her shoulder and looking very, very shy. And suddenly Jenny understands why Anya brought Tara into this apartment: there’s the same heavy sadness in Tara’s eyes that Jenny feels in her chest, even though Tara’s giving them both a small smile.

“Hi,” says Jenny, feeling awkward.

“Willow and Tara broke up, recently,” says Anya from next to Tara. “Willow’s getting help. Giles insisted on it. Tara isn’t getting any help, though, so I thought she should come here. Because. You know. None of us are getting help.” With that, she turns and crosses back to the kitchenette, starting again on her cupcakes.

Tara moves past Jenny and places the cactus down on the coffee table. Then she says, “Um, Anya’s using a lot of dye for those cupcakes. There are organic alternatives, you know.”

Jenny thinks she likes Tara. “Do you wanna watch a movie?” she offers. “There might be something good on TV. I don’t know.”

“I think I brought some snacks, actually,” says Tara, and rummages in her bag until she pulls out a small bag of potato chips. “Not a lot, but I was meaning to eat them on the bus over here or something.”

Jenny takes the chips and takes a bite, then laughs a little incredulously. “I like potato chips,” she says. “I’d forgotten.”

It’s such a small, silly thing, but Jenny’s starting to realize that there are so many little nuances to being alive, so many things she’s missed or misplaced or forgotten. Discovering them all again is sweet and wonderful. She likes having the space to do that. She likes that her world no longer condenses to Rupert.

Tara smiles a little like she gets what Jenny’s thinking, then sits down on the couch, bag still on her lap. “TV sounds nice,” she adds. “And you can finish off those potato chips. I can always go get more.”

Jenny and Anya and Tara start doing normal things like going shopping, and going to the park to have a picnic, and going to the animal shelter on pet adoption day. That last one’s mostly Jenny and Tara; Anya seems sort of resentful about even the concept of getting a pet that isn’t her weird little outdoor cat, and glares at all the kittens for a few minutes until Jenny points out that Anya’s not obliged to adopt a cat just by virtue of them being there.

“I know that,” says Anya, glowering, “but now I want to, and it’s your fault!”

When Jenny was alive the first time around, she liked cats more than dogs—all that elegant grace and the reproachful way they looked at you and how cute kittens were. But this time around, she settles herself on the floor with a large dog who’s trying to get to the sandwich in her bag.

“Hi,” she says, tapping the dog’s shoulder like he’s a person. “Hey. That’s kinda mine. Tara made it for me.”

“I think he likes you,” Tara observes.

“Hmm,” says Jenny, trying to sound cool and detached.

“No,” says Anya, swooping in. “No, no, absolutely not, we are not getting any dog who’s going to scare my kitty away whenever it shows up.”

“What’s your cat’s name?” Tara asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“It’s a cat,” says Anya to Tara. “It names itself.”

“I like this dog,” says Jenny, at first to be difficult but then a little bit true. “I could use a dog. Don’t they send puppies around to high schools to relieve stress in some parts of the country?”

“I’ve literally never heard of that happening,” says Anya.

“They could send puppies around to high school to relieve stress,” says Jenny, “and I want a dog.”

“I’m kicking you out of the apartment,” says Anya, and it’s the not-at-all-serious way she says it that makes a smile spread across both of their faces. Like not even Jenny getting a dog would make Anya kick Jenny out of the apartment. Like Jenny and Anya living together is a foregone, comforting certainty, at least for as long as they both need it.

“I hate you,” says Jenny to Anya, and scratches the dog’s shoulders. He licks her face very solemnly, then goes back to trying to get at the sandwich.

“I suppose,” says Anya, “after all we’ve been through, you deserve a pet of some sort.”

“Well, thank you for granting me permission,” says Jenny dryly.

Anya sits down next to Jenny and looks at the dog with a frown. “He kinda reminds me of Oz,” she says. “I didn’t know the guy that well, but the few times I saw him—yeah. That’s an Oz dog.”

“Willow talked about Oz, sometimes,” says Tara, in a too-high voice. The smile on her face has become a bit plastic. “She said—”

Jenny tugs at Tara’s hand, then places it on the dog’s back. Tara lets out this shuddering breath and sits down, focusing in on the dog’s brown-and-white coat. Then she says, “I can see why they’d bring around puppies to high school,” and leans a little on Jenny.

“What happened with Willow?” Jenny asks.

“She erased my mind when she decided I wasn’t agreeing enough with her,” says Tara.

Jenny wishes she could go back to the moment before she knew that that was what Willow Rosenberg had become. The sweet, shy, eager little girl with the big smile, the one who’d brought her flowers to brighten up the room and brought in extra credit work even though she was acing the class— “God,” she says. “When did the people I love become such a damn mess?”

Tara shrugs, head still on Jenny’s shoulder. “I like this dog,” she says. “He’s a good listener.”

Jenny laughs a little wetly and tucks her arm around Tara. Anya throws up her arms in mock exasperation (fine, fine, do what you want, see if I care) and sits down next to the both of them, pulling out a few dog treats from her own bag. “Got them up front,” she says off Jenny and Tara���s startled looks, then, “Shut up,” then, “I’m naming him Saint George.”

“Saint George?” says Jenny.

“He looks like a dragon-slayer of a dog,” says Anya, and bumps Jenny’s shoulder. Saint George eats four treats in one go and then licks Anya’s nose.

So now Jenny has a live-in best friend, another friend who might as well be living-in, and a dog. Which feels a lot better than one hotel-room boyfriend and no dog, all things considered. They haven’t seen the Scoobies in a while, which in its own way is also nice, because Jenny gets the sense that seeing the Scoobies would mean fielding a lot of questions about how, exactly, Jenny thought it was okay to leave Giles, who had missed her for so long and loved her so much. Plus, the whole world-saving thing is kind of a drain. She likes taking it slow.

Anya still has her job at the Magic Box, though the Scoobies don’t stop by all that often. She’s made Jenny and Tara full-time employees, which is actually pretty fun. Though they do get customers, the shop isn’t by any means crowded, so most of the day is spent playing fetch with Saint George, who has a surprising amount of common sense for a dog. He hasn’t once run into a shelf.

“He’s very well-behaved,” says Anya approvingly, “and dogs bring in more customers. We’ve turned a tidy profit over the last few weeks, and I attribute that to him.”

“Don’t let Saint George take all the credit,” says Jenny, and squeezes Anya’s shoulder as she crosses to help a customer with a purchase. “You’re kind of incredible at this.”

Anya really does have a knack for being a businesswoman. She’s gotten incredible at predicting what products will sell and what relics they can afford to toss and stuff like that, and she’s getting a lot better at talking to customers now that no one’s telling her she needs to act human. She’s got an easy, cheerful look in her eyes these days, and that’s probably why there’s a girl who’s come back three days in a row just to talk shyly to Anya about music and books and sapphic poetry.

“Should we tell her?” says Jenny, stepping over to Tara.

“She’ll figure it out,” says Tara, who looks like she wants to start giggling.

“Yes, I do like movies!” says Anya brightly, looking delighted. “I love movies. And you like movies too?”

“Oh, god, that poor girl,” says Jenny, and hides her face in Tara’s shoulder. Tara squeaks a little, pressing her hands to her face and trying her best not to laugh.

“I, I love movies,” says the girl, who has big eyes and a shy smile. “Would you like to go to one with me?”

Anya seems taken aback by the question, but she’s still smiling too. “I’d like that, yes,” she says, “though my hours are a bit busy. Why don’t you stop by my apartment sometime instead and we can have sex instead? It won’t take as long as a movie, and it won’t cost nearly as much either.”

Tara dissolves into hysterical laughter. Jenny raises her head to swat Tara’s shoulder.

The girl starts laughing too, but in a delighted sort of way that bodes very well for Anya. “You’re, like, the most forward person I’ve ever met!” she says.

“Saves time,” says Anya, who looks genuinely happy. “Though I’m still very happy to go to a movie with you.”

Anya and the girl start setting a date, and Jenny turns back to a very amused Tara. “Stop that,” she says, not all that seriously.

“I can’t help it!” Tara giggles. “She’s just—she knows what she wants and she goes for it.”

“It’s admirable, really,” says Jenny, looking back over at Anya, who’s scrawling her number on the girl’s arm.

The bell on the door rings, and Jenny turns, her welcome-to-the-Magic-Box smile bright and warm. It fades immediately when she sees who’s standing there.

“Jenny,” says Rupert awkwardly, a little sadly. He looks heavier, this time around, hollow in a way that isn’t covered up by happiness.

“Hey,” says Jenny. She feels Tara’s protective hand on her shoulder, hears Anya’s footsteps as she crosses to stand next to them.

Rupert nods a little stiffly, then says, “Anya, there’s still some paperwork I need to go over with you, and, and you haven’t sent me my cut of the profit—”

“Because you’re a stupid jerk who made Jenny cry,” says Anya in this scary sort of voice that sounds less petulant-child and more centuries-old-vengeance demon. “And I don’t pay those kinds of people.”

Jenny winces a little. “Anya,” she says, “legally, he is still a part of this business.”

“He can sell his part of this business back to me, though,” says Anya, looking blackly up at Rupert. It isn’t at all a request.

Something hits Jenny, then, something she doesn’t really like. Telling herself she’s okay because she hasn’t seen Rupert, hasn’t even talked to him since that night—isn’t that still just stubbornly refusing to address the elephant in the room? “Rupert,” she says, lightly shaking Tara’s hand off her shoulder, “I’d like to grab a coffee with you.”

“What?” says Rupert.

“What?” says Anya.

“She said she’d like to grab a coffee with him,” says Tara, who seems to at least sort of understand what Jenny’s trying to do. Jenny reaches back over and pulls Tara into a quick hug. She likes this kid. She really does.

“I’d like a coffee,” says Rupert, sort of to himself. “Or maybe tea.”

Jenny pulls back and smooths down Tara’s hair, then turns to Anya. “I’ll be right back, okay?” she says.

“Don’t get back together with him,” says Anya fiercely.

“Not planning on it,” says Jenny, and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rupert’s face fall. “But this is still a conversation we need to have.”

“I don’t understand it,” says Rupert as soon as they’re sitting at a table together.

“Don’t understand what?” Jenny prompts him.

Rupert swallows hard, then says, “We love each other. Shouldn’t it be that simple?”

Jenny looks at Rupert and finds herself wondering, with a painful twist, what it’d have been like if they’d gotten to grow together. Maybe they’d have ended up growing apart anyway, but—maybe they wouldn’t. And it’s that possibility that really stings. “We haven’t seen each other in years,” she says, “we can’t just jump into being in love when I don’t know who you are anymore.”

Rupert looks like he’s been slapped in the face. “I’m not the man you love,” he says, more a terrified question than a statement.

Jenny frowns a little. “I don’t think it’s that simple,” she says. “I just—I feel like you want to pick up where we left off, and I-I wanna know what I missed.” She tries to smile, but can’t manage it. “Like—what were you up to all these years? What changed? What didn’t?”

Rupert looks blankly up at her, then says, “I was a Watcher all these years, Jenny. I never—you were the first—the only—”

Back when they were first falling in love, that would have made Jenny feel breathlessly special. But she’s wiser, more worn, so she leans across the table to place her hand very briefly over his. When she pulls back, she sees (finally) a tired, sad resignation in his eyes, and that’s enough to make her say, “Maybe we’ll get it right some other time.”

“And that’s—that’s it, then,” says Rupert. His voice catches.

Jenny nods. “Yeah,” she says. “Because I have enough self-respect not to get with a guy who doesn’t know what he wants.”

So that’s it, then. That’s all.

Jenny, exhausted from her coffee with Rupert, gets home, sits quietly down on the sofa, and rests her head on Anya’s shoulder. They watch movies until about two in the morning, at which point they get a phone call from Tara, who’s crying. “They’re kicking me out,” she manages between sobs, “I’m living in a shitty apartment and I can’t even pay the fucking rent,” and they know it’s serious because Tara only ever swears when she’s sad. Never angry—always sad.

So Jenny and Anya and Saint George all pile into Anya’s kinda crappy car, and Anya, looking like she’s about to fall asleep behind the wheel, starts to drive.

“I hate everything lately,” says Anya. “You know, when I saw you and Giles looking at each other at my wedding, I was like, there’s a good happy ending for someone, at least.”

“Happy endings are a myth made to sell cards,” says Jenny, who’s sharing a bag of baby carrots with Saint George.

“You’re so dramatic sometimes,” says Anya. “Never change.” She reaches over with one hand to pat Saint George’s back (he licks her hand) and adds, “And Willow—I liked Willow, kind of. Xander liked Willow, so I liked her. You know. Kind of. But I didn’t ever think she’d do something like that to Tara.”

“Or that the rest of them would stand by her,” says Jenny distantly. Then, “Do you think that maybe we’re the leftovers? That that’s why I couldn’t make things work with Rupert?”

“I think you haven’t had enough sleep or enough time to really start thinking about why things with Giles didn’t work,” says Anya. Belatedly, she adds, “And I think I need to get home and sleep too after we bring Tara back to our place, because I still have that movie date with Claire.”

“Cute Claire from the Magic Box?” says Jenny with interest.

Anya shrugs in a way that’s trying to be nonchalant, but a small smile flits across her face.

“And you like her?”

“I told her I’m just getting out of a serious relationship,” says Anya, “and that I think she’s too cute and friendly to be a rebound thing, so she and I are just friends for now. We did have sex a few times, though. Friends have sex sometimes.”

“Seems reasonable,” says Jenny, mouth twitching. Then she says, “I think Rupert and I started dating too fast.”

“You mean when you came back—”

“I mean originally,” says Jenny. “I just—he was cute, and I thought it could be a casual thing, so I jumped in with the full expectation of getting burned. One of those classic opposites-attract sort of things, because—” She laughs a little bitterly. “I was just so sure we wouldn’t be able to make it work all that long,” she said. “And I was lonely, and he was there.”

Anya pulls the car to a stop outside Tara’s apartment, and they see Tara standing there with maybe two boxes. Something about that makes Jenny’s heart twist in her chest; this girl’s been living in Sunnydale for nearly three years, and all the stuff she owns can fit into two boxes. She wonders how much of Tara’s stuff ended up being Willow’s.

“That really sucks,” says Anya.

“Yeah,” says Jenny. “I think we’d have been really awesome friends if I’d done things right.”

“You still would have ended up dead, though,” Anya points out. “And Giles would still be an idiot. So really, nothing would have changed—” and then she’s cut off because Jenny’s giving her this big hug and trying not to start messy-crying all over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Jenny,” says Anya, and pats Jenny’s head. Jenny laughs a little. “It’s okay.”

Tara crosses over to the car with her two boxes and puts them both in the back. She’s very clearly been crying. “I don’t know how to do this,” she says. “I don’t know how to be all by myself anymore.”

“It’s cool,” says Anya. “Neither does Jenny. She’s like super bad at it.”

“You suck,” says Jenny, sniffling and smiling, and pulls herself back up just as Saint George clambers through the seats to go sit with Tara. That dog seems to have a sort of sixth sense for where he’s needed. Granted, everyone in the car’s kind of a mess right now, but still.

Tara buries her face in Saint George’s fur for a moment, and then starts talking to him in a soft, solemn voice that Jenny can’t make out. She turns back to Anya instead. “Where are we going?” she asks.

“We are going to get burgers,” says Anya. “Then we’re going home.”

Tara nods. Then she says, “I wanna throw up, though.”

“Do you want me to pull over?”

“It’s more of,” Tara waves a hand, resting her head against Saint George’s, “a feeling. Not really something I’m following through on.”

“What happened with the landlord?” Jenny asks.

Tara sighs. Then she says, “He upped the rent when he learned I’d gotten a steady job.”

“Shit,” says Jenny.

“That’s kind of fucked up,” says Anya, and reaches back over her shoulder to squeeze Tara’s hand. “But hey, you can live with us in our teensy apartment!”

“I don’t know about that,” says Jenny, frowning. Off Anya’s look, she hastily clarifies, “Of course I don’t mean Tara can’t live with us, I just mean—two people and a dog in a one-bedroom apartment was already kind of a stretch, but three people’s going to be way too much to handle.”

“Hmm,” says Anya, in her Thoughtful-Businesswoman voice that means she’s got a very good idea and she’s about to start imparting it. “I think we should start a fundraiser.”

“A fundraiser,” says Tara a little doubtfully.

“Yes!” Anya’s beaming, now. “One hundred percent of all proceeds for the next two weeks go towards us all getting some kind of an actual house, with, like, bedrooms and things, and maybe a nice backyard so Saint George can run around and chase squirrels. It’s a completely foolproof plan.”

But Jenny’s frowning, all of a sudden. Much as she loves the Magic Box, there’s something she really hates about them all staying tethered to Sunnydale, a place that broke Anya’s heart, warped Tara’s mind, and quite literally killed Jenny. “No,” she says. “No, I have a better idea.”

“Moving the Magic Box to San Francisco?” says Xander, bursting into the store when Jenny’s polishing orbs. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, Anya. This is a nasty stunt to pull. This was Giles’s place way before yours—”

Anya looks up at Xander, cold and quiet, and says, “You haven’t spoken to me in nearly two months, Xander. Is this what it takes for you to finally check in?”

“So that’s why you’re doing this, huh?” Xander demands. “Out of spite? You know how cut up Giles is already about—” here he gestures to Jenny like he can’t even look at her, “and now here you are pulling this shit? That’s low even for you, Anya—”

“Hey,” says Jenny loudly. This startles Xander so much that he steps back into a display and nearly sends it crashing down to the ground (he would have, too, if Tara hadn’t been quick enough to steady it). “You wanna tell us more about the girl you haven’t checked up on in two months? You feel like telling us what she’s thinking when you never bothered to listen?”

Xander falters, mouth trembling. Then he says, “Ahn, I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” says Anya primly, and goes back to writing shipping orders.

“I didn’t want to hurt you—”

“You wouldn’t have pulled away so completely if you didn't,” says Anya.

“You dropped off the goddamn face of the earth!” Xander snaps. “You didn’t let me— I gave you all the space you needed, but you never came back, and—” His voice breaks. “I love you,” he says. “I’m so sorry. I—Anya, I just wasn’t ready.”

“I don’t want to be with someone who’d propose to me at the end of the world and not follow through,” says Anya. “That isn’t brave and it isn’t fair to either of us.” She doesn’t sound as angry, now. Just resigned, and sort of tired.

“You can leave now, Xander,” says Jenny.

“Like I’m going to listen to you,” says Xander, looking at her with cold, hard eyes, and that’s when Jenny knows for certain that the only worth she holds to the Scoobies, now, is the worth she once held to Giles. “He’s drinking, you know,” Xander adds, “won’t talk to anyone but Buffy, and even that’s a toss-up most of the time.”

“I can’t help him,” says Jenny, and suddenly it’s Buffy’s junior year all over again. Straight face, biting her lip to keep from saying something she’ll regret or bursting into tears or both. “I can’t be the magical solution to his problems.”

“That’s why you came back,” says Xander fiercely. “That’s why you’re here now. He deserves someone in his life—”

All of a sudden, Tara’s got this quietly furious look in her eyes as she steps around the display she’s been holding steady, looking up at Xander with such a terrifying expression that he actually takes a step back. “No one,” she says, “is entitled to any of us, Xander. We’re not someone’s prize, and we’re not anyone’s leftovers. Do you understand that?”

And Jenny thinks something about that resonates with Xander, because all of a sudden he looks almost guilty. “Giles wanted me to come talk you out of this,” he said. “He didn’t say it, but I know he wants you to stay.” That part’s mostly for Jenny. “And I know I want you to stay.” That part’s definitely for Anya.

“It’s not your choice to make,” says Jenny.

Xander nods, then nods again, off-balance and wobbly like he’s a bobble-head doll, and then he turns around and half-stumbles out of the Magic Box. Jenny watches him go with a twisting feeling in her stomach, and then she presses her hand to her mouth and utters a single choked sob.

“Shit,” says Tara quietly.

“I wish I remembered how to be vengeful,” says Anya, distant and dispassionate. “I used to murder people in their beds for less than what he did to me, you know, and I used to love it, but I have nightmares about it now. I wish I could just step back into being—being some kind of a monster. Things were so much easier then.”

“Monsters don’t love,” says Tara.

“Double-edged sword,” says Jenny.

It’s worse when Willow comes around. They’ve nearly packed up the Magic Box when she shows up, looking sweet and unassuming and utterly heartbroken. If this was a daytime TV show, Jenny thinks, the viewers would probably be on Willow’s side, because Tara’s face is hard as stone.

“Tara,” says Willow. Her voice breaks, her eyes full of tears. “Baby, please. Please come back to me.”

Tara’s mouth trembles and her hands shake. Jenny wants to step up in the way she did for Anya, but she still doesn’t know Tara well enough to know how to even begin to help.

“Tara, baby, we were happy,” says Willow, and sniffles. “We were so happy, just—”

“You can’t do that,” says Tara. “I decide whether or not I was happy. Not you.”

Willow looks helplessly up at her, sniffling, and says, “I just wanted us to be happy. I just wanted that. Don’t you want that too?”

Holy fucking shit, Jenny thinks, Willow went off the deep end while I was gone. God, if Rupert let this happen, she’s glad they’re not anywhere near each other anymore.

Tara’s looking at Willow with this half-sad expression. “You know I didn’t love the magic in you, Willow,” she says. “I loved the way you used it. I loved the way you took so much delight in learning and growing and being happy, and I loved the way you looked at the world. I loved you so much, and you took my love and you twisted it to breaking.”

“Tara—”

“You told me to shut up,” says Tara. “So many people have told me to shut up. You were the first person I trusted to listen, and you silenced me. Do you know what that does to a person? Do you know how scared I was to know the one person I trusted could break me so completely?”

Willow’s crying now, real tears that have her shaking where she stands. “I know I messed up,” she sobs. “I just want to fix it!”

“Willow,” says Tara. “If anyone decides whether we’re fixed, it’s me.”

Maybe it’s something of a defense mechanism, but Jenny’s already thinking about the plane ride out of Sunnydale, wondering if Saint George will be okay in an aircraft carrier. He’s a smart dog, she thinks. He’ll be okay if they give him that squeaky toy he really likes.

Willow falls against the wall, sobbing. “I can’t lose you,” she’s saying. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

“You’re smart, Willow,” says Tara, not unkindly. “You’ll figure it out.” She steps around Anya, who’s frozen in this half-afraid, tense position behind the register, holding onto a fistful of money like it’s a lifeline, and she crosses the room to stand next to Jenny. “But right now I think I need to ask you to leave, and I think you need to be able to respect that.”

“I can’t find myself again without you—”

“I did,” says Tara, “and I’m the one we both thought wasn’t brave enough, so I think you can too.”

Willow looks up at Tara with this last-ditch, desperate smile, like she thinks maybe Tara’ll change her mind if she makes her face soft enough, makes herself vulnerable. There’s this thing Jenny heard Rupert say once, long ago, about how some of the people who cause lasting harm very often believe that they’re doing the exact right thing, about how those people are the ones that are hardest to dissuade and fend off.

“Willow,” says Jenny, and pulls out her teacher voice, the one she used to use on students who wouldn’t listen. “Back off.”

Willow’s eyes glint, and Jenny sees something old and dangerous buried behind the anguish. Then she turns and leaves.

Immediately after she’s gone, Tara collapses inward, sobbing so violently that she can no longer stand. Anya catches her awkwardly, pulling her into a clumsy hug, and Jenny all but runs over to join them, pulling Tara close.

“I love her so much,” Tara sobs. “So much. I want it to stop.”

“I know,” says Anya, her voice shaking. “But we’re going to be okay.”

Rupert is the last one to show up in their lives, and he barely makes it. He shows up the night before they’re slated to leave, buzzing their apartment, and Jenny debates whether to let him in before deciding, well, this is probably her thing to deal with, so she should go and deal with it. She pulls herself up from the air mattress on the living room floor and heads down three flights of stairs in a bathrobe and slippers, lugging Saint George in her arms, because when push comes to shove he really is her dog. He’s occupying himself with chewing at her bathrobe. It’s weirdly comforting.

Rupert looks a little surprised that she even came down. He’s unshaven, bleary-eyed, wearing pajamas himself, and he’s done a piss-poor job of parking his car outside.

“You look like shit,” says Jenny bluntly. She’s had enough of old lovers to last a lifetime, even though none of them have been hers up to this point.

“Jenny,” says Rupert. “I just wanted to say—good luck. Wherever you’re going.”

And just like that, Jenny knows they’re going to find each other again. She does. Because Rupert looks tired and worn, but he gets it. Took you long enough, she wants to say, but she’s just so wrung-out and sad that she puts down Saint George and hugs Rupert a little awkwardly. Somehow, even though they don’t really fit together anymore, she feels closer to him than she has for a very, very long time. “I love you,” she says, and means it all the way this time.

“I love you too,” says Rupert. His voice catches as they look at each other.

Jenny smiles a little. “Guess the guy I loved isn’t all gone,” she says, and lets her forehead fall to rest against his, just for a moment.

“Not gone,” says Rupert, “just a bit lost. And you’re right. I won’t find the better parts of myself if I assume it’s your job to help me.”

“Yeah,” says Jenny. “I’m gonna miss this fucked-up town, a little.”

“I’ll visit,” says Rupert. “In a month or two.”

“I like that.” Jenny smooths down the collar of Rupert’s pajama shirt. The top he’s wearing is one she remembers, but the bottoms aren’t, and something about that makes her feel strangely comforted. Some things change, some things stay the same. C’est la vie, as the French say. “I think at least a few months would be good for both of us,” she says. “I think we both need time.”

“I do too,” says Rupert. “Frankly, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m quite a mess.”

That makes Jenny laugh. “Damn straight,” she says. “Okay. I need to go up and get some sleep. I have a flight tomorrow.”

“All right,” says Rupert.

But they stay in each other’s arms for a few moments more, because the soft warmth of a long-forgotten connection is something that’s damn hard to walk away from. It’s the right call to leave Sunnydale, she knows, for herself and Anya and Tara alike, because she and Rupert still don’t really know how to love each other the right way. They need to figure themselves out before they can fall in love again.

“Maybe I’ll ask you out in a few months,” says Rupert.

“Maybe I’ll say yes,” says Jenny, and pulls away, letting her hands drop. She picks up Saint George and heads back up to her tiny home, with Anya asleep in the bedroom and Tara asleep on the couch. He stands there, watching her go.

Anya snores on the plane. Tara puts in headphones and pretends she isn’t annoyed, but her mouth does this little twitchy thing every time Anya snorts. Jenny, who may or may not have been in the midst of a vaguely explicit dream involving Rupert before being woken by Anya, is much less subtle.

“Anya,” she says. “Anya.”

“Shh,” says Tara, taking out her headphones, even though it’s clear she agrees with the sentiment. “She’s had a rough few days, she needs her sleep.”

“We all need sleep!” says Jenny indignantly. “And when your ex-boyfriend’s feeding you chocolate-covered strawberries in your dream—”

“Lesbian,” says Tara.

“—then you can talk to me about a rough few days—oh, yeah, lesbian. Gotta stop mixing my comparisons.” Jenny lies back in her chair, still a little annoyed about the interruption. Then she says, “You think we’ll ever really see them again?”

Tara shrugs a little. “I know you and me and Anya are all going to see each other,” she says, and she has this little smile on her face when she says it. “That’s a pretty good deal, all things considered.”

Jenny considers this. Then she says, “I hope Anya’s apartment cat does okay while we’re gone.”

Tara starts giggling. “You hypocrite,” she says, “you always gave Anya so much grief about worrying about that cat, and now it’s you who’s worried—”

“I’m just saying—”

Anya snorts again, then jerks awake, a half-terrified look in her eyes. “We’re flying?” she says uneasily. “I don’t like—I mean, we’re so high up, what if something—”

Jenny reaches over and takes Anya’s hand in hers. Now seems like the time to say something appropriately sentimental, one that’ll make Anya smile, but all she can come up with is, “We’re gonna be fine, probably.”

And for some reason, Anya relaxes at this. “I like probably,” she says. “Means there’s room for different outcomes. Depending on finality always seems to get me hurt as of late.”

Jenny thinks about how there’s a possibility Rupert might visit her in a year or so, a changed man, and sweep her off her feet and into the happy ending they both want deep down. She thinks about how there’s a possibility he might visit her in one week with that desperate, determinedly happy look in his eyes and not listen to a word she has to say unless it’s I love you. She thinks about how there always are a few loose threads in any ending, no matter how neatly one tries to wrap things up.

“I think that’s a good philosophy,” she says.

[thiamfresh]

108 and 109

Here ya go, sorry it took so long!

I wanted to write something with this incorrect thiam quote and it got a bit weird?? sorry.

Being homeless wasn’t as bad as Theo expected. It wasn’t nice by any means and Theo knew without his supernatural abilities he’d probably have thrown himself off a bridge by now but with them it was..alright. It wasn’t fun, or pretty, or exciting but he could handle it. He knew enough about the town to know where he could sneak in to shower. His body ran warmer than most people’s would so when he added his thin blanket, the back-seat of his truck and some thick sweatpants to the mix he wasn’t really sleeping cold a lot. His muscles would heal themselves from the cricks most people would get from sleeping in such a cramped space within an hour of him waking up.

The daytime part he could handle, it was easy enough. It was the night that he hated. When the world around him drifted off to sleep and left him alone with his thoughts. When the memories of all the terrible things he’d done would fly back to him and the loneliness would creep in, deep and aching in his chest. But even that he could handle, he’d had a lot of time for thought with the dread doctors. He was used to being left alone with just his mind for company, sure, now he felt guilty for things which was fairly new but he could still swallow that down most of the time.

It was the fact that despite everyone else being able to sleep he wasn’t able to, even when he did manage to escape his thoughts and drift into a peaceful slumber it was short lived because he’d be being forced back into the world of wakefulness before long, whether by nightmares and his own panicked screams, or police officers telling him to move on.

Theo shifted on the seat a groan escaping his lips, tired and pained as he heard a thunk hit against the car window. He drew his hands up to his eyes rubbing the sleep out off them unsure whether he was happy that it was police rather than a nightmare or if he would have preferred if it had been his own fault that he woke up.

“Alright, alri-” Another thump.

“Theo!” Theo’s eyes snapped open at the familiar voice, hands dropping away from his eyes as his brow crinkled in confusion. That definitely wasn’t a police officer.

“Liam?” Theo asked, eyeing the roof the car. Liam’s heartbeat skipped, a small laugh drifting through the night.

“Wherefore art thou? We needeth to speaketh.” Theo’s brow scrunched at Liam’s slurred words. He dug around for his phone, blinking at the time. Why the hell was Liam at his truck at three am? “Theo…Theo.” Liam whispered, The drawn out way he sang it making Theo’s skin crawl.

“What?!” Theo snapped. Not bothering to sit up. He eyed the window as another pebble hit against it. Liam was lucky he was too confused to be angry. “Liam, what the hell do you want?”

“I need to talk to you.” Liam said, more rocks assaulting the window.

“You have a phone for a reason.” Theo drawled, sure, being woken up by the shrill buzz of his phone would have been annoying but probably less so that Liam tossing rocks at his window because he apparently didn’t want to walk the six feet to the car door. Theo blinked as something thunked against his window, louder and heavier than the others. Theo stayed still on the seat for a moment, disbelief rolling through him before he was diving for the window, rolling it down in a quick move and sticking his head out and peering to the ground where Liam’s phone sat, screen cracked.

“Did you just throw your fucking phone at my window?!” Theo hissed. Liam’s eyes pulled away from where he was frowning down at his now broken phone, lifting to meet Theo’s. A wide grin stretched across his face that left Theo blinking. Liam didn’t smile at him like that, not unless they’d just defeated an enemy and his defenses were down enough for him to forget that he didn’t like Theo. Liam finally walked over with lopping steps.

“Theo!” He said happily, the smile growing even wider. Theo’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Right now I’m talking to you.” Liam said,  resting a hand against the roof of Theo’s truck and leaning closer, Theo shifted his head back as Liam loomed. “Duhhh.” Liam’s breath ghosted across his face leaving his nose curling at the harsh smell of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?”

“Obviously.” Liam snorted. “Now let me in-”

“Wha-” Theo didn’t have time to finish the one-word question before Liam was hauling the door open and tossing himself in giving Theo barely enough time to scramble out of the way as he flopped into the back seat next to him with a hiccup.

“How much did you drink?”

“Everything.” Liam hummed. His cheeks rosy as he swung his head round to look at Theo.

“Why?”

“Mason figured out how to get a werewolf drunk.” Liam said. Theo eyed him curiously, his cheeks rosy red and the smile still sweeping across his face in a dazed way. “So, we figured why not…Were you sleeping?” Liam asked, fingers moving to pick at the blanket still pooled on Theo’s lap.

“No.” Theo lied.

“I could hear you snoring.” Liam giggled.

“Then why did you ask?”

“Why did you lie about it?” Liam replied, waggling his eyebrows leaving Theo huffing out a breath, this was getting him nowhere.

“What are you doing here Liam?”

“I followed your scent.” Liam said nonchalantly, like the fact he knew Theo’s scent well enough to track him down in the middle of the night while drunk without anything of his to use as a guide was normal.

“Liam why are you here at three in the morning?”

“No one’s seen you in weeks. You’re never at pack meetings and-”

“I’m not pack.” Theo said, Liam snorted, lips spurting out air in a way that made him sound like a braying horse.

“You’re basically pack.” Liam grumbled petulantly, looking up to Theo like he was the idiot here. “You’re our spike.” He added, the words sounding more like an accusation than anything else.

“Spike?”

“From Buffy” Liam said. “You know. We let you in even though we didn’t really trust you and then you betrayed and so we tried to kill you-” Theo’s lips thinned at the blunt reminder of their history. “But now, now you’re back and you help and you know, at first no one even wanted you there, I mean, why would anyone want you.” Theo looked to the door, wondering how much trouble he’d get in if he shoved Liam out and drove away before he managed to clamor off of the floor.  He could text Scott, tell him his Beta was drunk in the warehouse district.  

“But then you do the thing-” Liam waved a hand as if trying to start a game of charades on what ‘the thing’ was “And you know, Buffy still wants to hate you, because you’re selfish and there’s Riley who’s perfect and they love each other but then she keeps finding herself coming back to Spike who’s trying not to be selfish in a very selfish way and it’s..it’s confusing because Spike is hot you know?”

“Right.” Theo said slowly, eyeing Liam curiously as he continued to rant.

“And then underneath all the fangs and murder you start thinking..this isn’t all spike is, this….this douche bag. You know? I mean, he was a person before it, who’d been forced into this life he was just this gullible little idiot who was told that his life could be better and so he trusted the wrong people and then they warped him and he became a killer because he thought he had to and he was good at it and who doesn’t want to be good at something? So Buffy knows that Spikes the bad choice, that Spike’s screwed up but Spikes trying and Buffy knows that she’s not all innocent and pure and that she’s hurt people too, that she would again for the right reason and Riley never got that part of Buffy. Riley would play into the good part but Spike, Spike knows that Buffy can be a monster too and that doesn’t scare him, hell he likes it but he knows Buffy doesn’t, so he draws her back from the edge-”

“I don’t remember that epi-”

“AND!” Liam said, shushing Theo. “Just..gets that side of her more than anyone else seems to and makes Buffy feel..maybe not normal because she’s never going to get to be normal but you know, makes Buffy feel real and makes Buffy laugh and doesn’t freak out when Buffy just needs a break and turns up drunk to his ‘house’ because everyone’s gone, Riley’s gone and Xander’s busy with Anya. Even Giles is gone and Giles is the whole reason Buffy got into the world of vampires and stuff, he was meant to be there to teach Buffy. And so now Buffy mainly has Spike but Spike’s hiding out in his car in the middle of nowhere like a total loner.” Theo swallowed thickly. Liam’s eyes boring into his as he continued to talk, words spilling past his lips almost too fast for Theo to follow. A part of him was sure he should have tried to stop Liam from talking, to shut him up before he could say anything that would just end up damaging the trust they’d built over the past few months but a bigger part was curious to see where Liam’s rant would end. “And everyone hates Spike but Buffy kinda wishes that they didn’t so Spike could be around more because they might fight but dude fuck can they fight together. I mean once they get going they’re badass you know? And Buffy hates the idea that it’s going to end like it does in the show. With Spike only really able to come around when something bads happening and then he dies before they really get to be happy. Because maybe they’re both a bit broken but once Spike gets his soul back they bring out the best in each other. They need each other and Buffy thinks that they really could be happy together if Spike would just let them-”

“I’m pretty sure I watched a totally different show to you.” Theo joked lightly, finally putting an end to Liam’s tirade.

“You know what I mean.” Liam huffed, lips sticking out in a pretty pout that left Theo praying he was right in what he thought Liam meant.

“I just woke up. Why don’t you spell it out to me.” Theo suggested softly.

“You’re spike!”

“I got that part. It’s the rest that confuses me.” Theo said. Liam’s pout grew. “Because it sounds a hell of a lot like you’re implying something.” He urged. Liam’s cheeks grew redder and Theo knew that this time it wasn’t due to alcohol.

“What would I be implying?” Liam grumbled, ripping a thread from the blanket. Theo batted his hand away before he could do any more damage.

“Liam, Who’s Giles in this analogy?”

“Scott, obviously.”

“And so who are you?” Theo asked. Liam’s eyes skirted away from Theo for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I’m Liam.”

“You know what I-”

“Drop it, Theo.” Liam growled low in his throat.

“You’re the one who started it!” Theo hissed. “If I’m Spike who are you?”

“Shut up.”

“Liam-” The air was knocked out Theo as Liam keeled over sideways, head flopping onto Theo’s chest with a surprising amount of force.

“Liam, get off.”

“Nope.” Liam sighed, heartbeat slowing down as he tried to burrow his face into Theo’s chest.

“Seriously, How much did you drink?”

“Too much.” Liam said proudly. Theo couldn’t help the small smile that fought its way onto his face. “I’m tired.”

“Then you should go and sleep.” Liam nodded against his chest, kicking his legs up onto the seat as he got more comfortable. “That’s definitely not what I meant.” Theo said. “If I push you out of the car will you get lost on your way home?”

“Probably.” The wolf said earnestly. Theo sighed, hands moving to Liam’s arms trying to lever him away, the boy replied by digging his nails into Theo’s side like a cat that didn’t want to be picked up.

“Alright. Get off me and I’ll take you home-”

“Are you hitting on me?” Liam asked softly, heart making a strange flip flopping sound. Theo chose to ignore it.

“Move, so I can drive you back before anyone starts-”

“M good here.” Liam hummed, cutting Theo off. He opened his mouth, ready to argue only for Liam to shush him before he could try. He shut up despite knowing he could quite easily shove Liam out of his car, at this point he was pretty sure most people would. But still, Theo stayed silent, eyes shifting around the car nervously as Liam made himself comfortable, the smell of alcohol still seeping off of him leaving the car smothered in it. The silence was..nice, Liam’s face warm against his chest, his breath puffing warm against Theo’s neck and his heart beat a steady hum that made Theo’s own heart rate sound like someone having a heart attack.

“You should let me drive you home.” Theo tried.

“If you can sleep in your car then I can sleep in your car.” Liam mumbled. “Spike would let Buffy stay.” Theo felt his heart give another embarrassing jolt, his fingers loosening on Liam’s arms, hands slowly moving to settle on his back.

“Is that who you are?” Liam stilled, limbs locked as his breathing stuttered for a moment before he replied.

“What if it is?” Liam’s voice shook as he spoke, Theo felt his top get tighter around his shoulders as Liam’s fingers curled into the fabric.

“Well-” Theo started, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he tried to think of something to say. “I guess I’d be obliged to let you stay.” He felt Liam��s cheek moving against his chest as his lips pulled into a smile. Theo’s fingers trailed in a small circle on Liam’s back as the beta slowly relaxed against him again. Theo wondered how this became his life.