Best Souvenir, chapter 16
Title: Best Souvenir
Rating: PG for now
Warnings: None for now
Pairings: just B/A for now
Summary: Whistler never existed. Buffy and Angel meet after the End of Days is over. Future fic, alternate reality.
A/N: Thanks to a2zmom for making this so much clearer.
Previous chapters can be found here.
Chapter 16
Buffy had several tourist materials that couldn’t exactly be classified as normal traveling gear, one of them a map with each police station carefully marked.
Which was no help at all, since she couldn’t read a map to save her life; for some reason Giles had never included cartography in her repetoire of ass-kicking and world saviorism. Most days she steered clear of police-and key maps-as a general practice, but she wanted to make sure the guy whom Angel had stabbed had turned himself and his cronies in, or else she would give them the guy’s wallet so the N.Y.P.D. could take care of it.
She hadn’t slept well. After showering the night before she had come into the bedroom to find it completely dark. She’d been glad. She hadn’t wanted to face Angel after he’d seen her looking broken in the bathroom, after he’d had to help her unzip her dress and help her remember who she was and what she was doing. She’d also been dead tired, so she’d changed into her pajamas, and slipped gratefully into bed. It was only when she was about to drift into deep slumber that she realized Angel wasn’t already sleeping on the floor beside her. He’d been sitting in the chair the whole time, the Acathla book in his lap, watching her in the dark. Waiting.
For that and other reasons she hadn’t wanted to face him in the morning (more like mid-afternoon), so she’d slipped out after quickly getting ready, leaving Angel to sleep. She’d considered the whole manacles issue, but things were different now, weren’t they? People with souls didn’t deserve to be chained up. Well, Andrew did sometimes, but Angel was nothing like Andrew. At least, she hoped he wasn’t, because that boy seriously peeved her. But did leaving Angel there alone in her hostel mean that she was just going to start trusting him completely, now?
Buffy clipped down the Bowery on the way to the police station, thinking about it, and also hoping she wasn’t holding her map upside down. He was a vampire. But he had a soul. Nevermind Andrew, she told herself; what about Warren? A soul didn’t equal good and humanity didn’t equal decency and a centimeter on her map must not equal three city blocks, or else she’d already gone too far down the Bowery.
She frowned and kept walking. There was that innocent until proven guilty thing. Which as far as some people were concerned meant having to wait around twiddling thumbs until some scum murdered your girlfriend before you flayed said scum alive. There was also that everyone deserved a chance to make a choice thing, but then again there were always monks who made you into some Slayer’s little sister without even the courtesy of asking, hello, and then didn’t even give you a chance to live your life before a hellgod tried to kill you to open hell.
And it wasn’t like Buffy’d gotten to choose either. Life wasn’t fair, and she’d accepted that. She had jumped into a portal and died.
She still had a job to do, and she still had to do it no matter who or what Angel was. Plus, they’d already started down this road. Angelus had to make some noise in this town so the Immortal would find him pronto. He was going to help her whether he wanted to or not, and she wasn’t going to trust him just because he had a soul, or eyes that made her burn, or a way of digging right into her that made her remember what she used to think love was like.
Buffy quickened her step as she walked along, listening. After two blocks she sighed, and stepped just inside the open awning of a Chinese teahouse. The tiny café was crowded, and it wouldn’t seem odd to anyone at first that she was just standing in the open corner, waiting.
Buffy waited for whoever was trailing her in broad daylight to pass by, stop, or follow her. A minute later, with a fluid twist of her body and a powerful thrust of her arms, she had thrown a body against the brick wall just outside the crowded restaurant in a shallow reenactment of the night before-right down to who was up against the wall.
“Jenny?” Buffy asked, so surprised that she let go completely. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
For a moment, the dark-haired woman looked terrified, as though she was going to run. No one had noticed Buffy’s move; the sidewalks still surged with passersby, and the people inside the restaurant seemed otherwise occupied. But instead of fleeing, Jenny shook her head, as if dazed. “You’re strong.”
“I work out,” Buffy said reflexively.
“I’ll say,” Jenny replied, rubbing her head. “God, I can’t believe I ran into you again. Or . . . you ran into me.”
“Sorry. You were following me.”
“Well, actually I was going to the police station to report . . .” She looked around the street, as if scoping for dark alleys, took a deep breath, and continued, “ . . . what happened last night. Then I caught sight of you and was trying to catch up with you until-well. No hard feelings, of course.”
“Though you might have a rather hard-feeling knob on your head, later,” Buffy said apologetically.
“Yes, but . . . wow. You don’t know how great it is that you’re . . . well, you. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Buffy actually felt herself blush a little. It seemed so rare that all the people she looked after and saved actually thanked her. And Jenny was so forthright about it, so unafraid of her. It really was bizarre seeing the same stranger two days in a row in a city like New York, but hey, things could go right in her life, couldn’t they? She could get a little appreciation from the masses now and then, couldn’t she? “There’s no need to thank me,” Buffy said, smiling a little, “but it’s nice that you wanted to. And you’re welcome.”
“Oh, I didn’t want to thank you,” Jenny said hastily. At Buffy’s ill-concealed surprise, she hesitated. “I wanted to warn you.”
Buffy blinked. “What?”
Jenny looked around. “Want to get some bubble tea?” she said suddenly. “Maybe we could sit somewhere . . . in the back.”
Buffy wondered whether she should throw her up against the wall again and demand to know what she was going to warn her about. Jenny seemed harmless enough, but then again, Ubel Knopf wouldn’t look like much of a threat on a sunny day, either. But Ubel had given her a bad vibe from the beginning, and Jenny . . . just seemed human. A fresh, pretty, easily attacked human.
Still, it was best to be on her guard. The restaurant was open to the street, which left her a number of good outs. It was crowded enough that Buffy doubted Jenny would try anything, but not so very crowded that innocent bystanders would get hurt. Probably. Plus, there were chopsticks on the little wooden tables to make them look pretty. They would break easily, but in case Jenny had vamp back up it was always good to scope for stakes.
Jenny ordered them tapioca drinks, while Buffy waited near the back of the long, narrow café to try to snag them a table.
“Awkward, huh?” Jenny said, after they had finally sat down. “I didn’t mean to be. You saved my life.” It was a statement of fact, not a thank you. She was subtle about it, but Buffy had had enough desperate demons in her hands, enough scheming villains to see that Jenny was searching, looking for something in her eyes. After a moment, Jenny’s eyes dropped from Buffy’s steady reciprocation, and she held out her hand. “Jenny Calendar.”
“Anne,” Buffy said immediately. “Anne Harris.” Out of all her friends, Xander seemed to have the most innocuous last name.
“Great to meet you, Anne.”
Buffy poked her straw up and down in her cup, trying to look disinterested. “What’d you wanna warn me about?”
“It’s about the man. The one who came into the alley and . . . He saved me too, didn’t he?”
Buffy tried not to stiffen at her reference to Angel. Instead, she shrugged.
“He was with you,” Jenny persisted. “I mean, I heard you call his name.”
This was going from bad to worse. If Jenny was one of EEK’s spies, the cover they’d so carefully constructed the night before was almost certainly blown. While she’d always known that there was a possibility her plan could bring EEK after her too-Angel had warned her-the power she’d felt in Ubel as he disappeared left her very unexcited by the prospect.
Angel had also warned her that after the meeting she should keep a relatively low profile, not drawing attention to herself as the Slayer, so the Immortal-or EEK, if it came to that-wouldn’t expect having to deal with both of them. Buffy hadn’t considered reporting the crime last night would stir any waters, as it had nothing to do with demons, but perhaps the idea of doing it had been foolish. Perhaps it had been foolish to save Jenny at all, so close after the meeting with EEK. But if there was something funny about Jenny or the situation-something demonic-Angel would’ve sensed it with his vamp feelers and told her. Right?
Still, the fact that this woman just happened to see her again after last night and now had something to tell her about Angel was highly suspicious. Buffy decided her best option was to try to play the charade from the night before and just hope it worked.
“Angelus,” she mumbled at last.
Jenny looked around the shop quickly, then took a long sip of her tea. “Look,” she said finally. “I don’t know anything about you and how you . . . your relationship. Or him,” she added hurriedly. “But I do know this. Sounds funny-I don’t quite know how to explain, but . . . I saw his face change.”
Buffy didn’t remember Angel going into game face, but she’d been rather distracted at the time. It wasn’t so much the three guys holding her down as the woman she’d saved not running for her life, and the vampire she’d commanded not to follow her showing up anyway. And then she’d been even more distracted by that same vampire, who was supposed to have a chip in his head, attacking a human to save Jenny’s life. “Yeah,” Buffy said noncommittally. “It does that.”
Jenny crossed her arms on the table and leaned in, her voice lowering. “You don’t understand. It changed. I think there’s something . . . wrong with him.”
Buffy tried to affect a glazed look in her eyes. Perhaps this wasn’t necessary; perhaps Jenny really was trying to protect her from the demon she’d seen and hadn’t understood. Then again, maybe not. So, instead of responding as she normally would have, she gave a little fake shiver. “There are plenty of things wrong with Angelus.”
Jenny, looking startled, sat back a little and stirred her tea. “You’re young yet, Anne,” Jenny said finally. “And there are forces in this world that you can’t . . . Look, I’ve done a lot of research on the internet. And I know you can’t believe everything you read, but I’ve seen some of this stuff with my own eyes. I know you think he’s just some stray, want to help him out, taken in by a pretty face, but he’s dangerous. You should stay away from him.”
“Help him?” Buffy scoffed. “He’s a vampire.”
Jenny almost dropped her cup. “You know?”
“Sure,” Buffy said, slurring a little. “Think I’d’ve taken on all those guys just to get the crap beat out of me? Crap, but we were bored.” Buffy winced. That didn’t sound right. Did “left-overs”-as Ubel had called them-say the word “crap”? It was such a pain pretending to be dark and scary. Even after coming back to life, she hadn’t been dark enough to mess around with a vampire. How was a vamp tramp supposed to act when she didn’t have her suck-mate to lean on? Would cussing a lot do it? Maybe she should have said “fuck”.
Anyway, this proved one thing. Jenny was no perfect innocent, blind to the world around her. She knew vampires existed and she knew they were dangerous. Which didn’t at all prove she was evil or had any sort of connection with EEK, but Buffy wasn’t about to drop the act now.
“Bored?” Jenny seemed confused by this.
“And, well, he gets the midnight munchies. Yeah, bored! Remember, vampire? With the grr? He has to get his jollies somewhere.”
“Jollies? What’re you talking about?”
“I mean, aside from me,” Buffy tacked on quickly. “’Cause I provide jollies also. I’m like a jolly vendor. Except, you know, vampire, with the arrgh. Maybe it’s more like I provide anti-jollies.” Buffy winced. Jolly vendor?
“What’re you saying?” Jenny was frowning suspiciously.
Buffy shrugged and tried not to ramble. “Pretty face, you said it yourself. Think about it.”
Jenny looked like Buffy’d just told her her boyfriend was a serial killer. Which, actually, she had. “You’re lovers?”
From EEK, there should have been a marked lack of surprise. From the innocent Jenny was making herself out to be, there probably should’ve been revulsion. Jenny just seemed suspicious. “I love,” Buffy said, in a bored tone. “He feeds. It’s a thing.”
“But that’s not . . . What’s going on here? What’re you trying to pull?”
“What, you’ve never heard of a vamp having a suckbabe?” Buffy grimaced again. Angel should’ve given her a dark mistress vocab list. Learn these words by Thursday! There could’ve been a spelling bee, after.
“Why don’t you just tell me the truth?” Jenny’s eyes were keen.
“What makes you think I’m lying?” Buffy’s eyes were officially not meeting Jenny’s any more; too much keen could be a bad thing. “Whatever, lady. You know, I saved your life.” Buffy rose to stalk off, when Jenny grabbed her wrist. Humbly-and hating it-Buffy sat back down.
“Wait, this is important. You’re still in danger. You-whatever you’re trying to do, and whatever he’s doing-are you making him happy?”
“Happy? Angelus?” Buffy laughed harshly. “You need to find yourself a man, Jen. Are they ever happy?”
“I don’t know why you would lie,” Jenny said slowly. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing. Or him.”
“What I’m doing is getting back,” Buffy said, tugging her wrist from where it was still clutched in Jenny’s bony fingers. “He starts snacking if I’m away too long, and I just get so jealous.” She stood, purposely wobbling a little. Jenny stood as well, reaching out a reflexive hand to steady her. “Maybe I’ll get him a mango thing. He has a sweet fang, and he just loves take out. Speaking of which,” Buffy added, leaning against Jenny, “want to come with?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Jenny said, extricating herself from Buffy with some degree of disgust. “But whatever you think you’re trying to do, whatever he’s doing-it’s a lie. He-vampires are killers.”
“You have no idea,” Buffy snapped. “He’s waiting.” She picked up her purse and resolutely walked out of the café, careful to not look as if she was waiting to see whether Jenny was following her. Buffy hurried back to the hostel, hoping she looked liked she was hurrying home to get sucked on by a monster.
Rating: PG for now
Warnings: None for now
Pairings: just B/A for now
Summary: Whistler never existed. Buffy and Angel meet after the End of Days is over. Future fic, alternate reality.
A/N: Thanks to a2zmom for making this so much clearer.
Previous chapters can be found here.
Chapter 16
Buffy had several tourist materials that couldn’t exactly be classified as normal traveling gear, one of them a map with each police station carefully marked.
Which was no help at all, since she couldn’t read a map to save her life; for some reason Giles had never included cartography in her repetoire of ass-kicking and world saviorism. Most days she steered clear of police-and key maps-as a general practice, but she wanted to make sure the guy whom Angel had stabbed had turned himself and his cronies in, or else she would give them the guy’s wallet so the N.Y.P.D. could take care of it.
She hadn’t slept well. After showering the night before she had come into the bedroom to find it completely dark. She’d been glad. She hadn’t wanted to face Angel after he’d seen her looking broken in the bathroom, after he’d had to help her unzip her dress and help her remember who she was and what she was doing. She’d also been dead tired, so she’d changed into her pajamas, and slipped gratefully into bed. It was only when she was about to drift into deep slumber that she realized Angel wasn’t already sleeping on the floor beside her. He’d been sitting in the chair the whole time, the Acathla book in his lap, watching her in the dark. Waiting.
For that and other reasons she hadn’t wanted to face him in the morning (more like mid-afternoon), so she’d slipped out after quickly getting ready, leaving Angel to sleep. She’d considered the whole manacles issue, but things were different now, weren’t they? People with souls didn’t deserve to be chained up. Well, Andrew did sometimes, but Angel was nothing like Andrew. At least, she hoped he wasn’t, because that boy seriously peeved her. But did leaving Angel there alone in her hostel mean that she was just going to start trusting him completely, now?
Buffy clipped down the Bowery on the way to the police station, thinking about it, and also hoping she wasn’t holding her map upside down. He was a vampire. But he had a soul. Nevermind Andrew, she told herself; what about Warren? A soul didn’t equal good and humanity didn’t equal decency and a centimeter on her map must not equal three city blocks, or else she’d already gone too far down the Bowery.
She frowned and kept walking. There was that innocent until proven guilty thing. Which as far as some people were concerned meant having to wait around twiddling thumbs until some scum murdered your girlfriend before you flayed said scum alive. There was also that everyone deserved a chance to make a choice thing, but then again there were always monks who made you into some Slayer’s little sister without even the courtesy of asking, hello, and then didn’t even give you a chance to live your life before a hellgod tried to kill you to open hell.
And it wasn’t like Buffy’d gotten to choose either. Life wasn’t fair, and she’d accepted that. She had jumped into a portal and died.
She still had a job to do, and she still had to do it no matter who or what Angel was. Plus, they’d already started down this road. Angelus had to make some noise in this town so the Immortal would find him pronto. He was going to help her whether he wanted to or not, and she wasn’t going to trust him just because he had a soul, or eyes that made her burn, or a way of digging right into her that made her remember what she used to think love was like.
Buffy quickened her step as she walked along, listening. After two blocks she sighed, and stepped just inside the open awning of a Chinese teahouse. The tiny café was crowded, and it wouldn’t seem odd to anyone at first that she was just standing in the open corner, waiting.
Buffy waited for whoever was trailing her in broad daylight to pass by, stop, or follow her. A minute later, with a fluid twist of her body and a powerful thrust of her arms, she had thrown a body against the brick wall just outside the crowded restaurant in a shallow reenactment of the night before-right down to who was up against the wall.
“Jenny?” Buffy asked, so surprised that she let go completely. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
For a moment, the dark-haired woman looked terrified, as though she was going to run. No one had noticed Buffy’s move; the sidewalks still surged with passersby, and the people inside the restaurant seemed otherwise occupied. But instead of fleeing, Jenny shook her head, as if dazed. “You’re strong.”
“I work out,” Buffy said reflexively.
“I’ll say,” Jenny replied, rubbing her head. “God, I can’t believe I ran into you again. Or . . . you ran into me.”
“Sorry. You were following me.”
“Well, actually I was going to the police station to report . . .” She looked around the street, as if scoping for dark alleys, took a deep breath, and continued, “ . . . what happened last night. Then I caught sight of you and was trying to catch up with you until-well. No hard feelings, of course.”
“Though you might have a rather hard-feeling knob on your head, later,” Buffy said apologetically.
“Yes, but . . . wow. You don’t know how great it is that you’re . . . well, you. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Buffy actually felt herself blush a little. It seemed so rare that all the people she looked after and saved actually thanked her. And Jenny was so forthright about it, so unafraid of her. It really was bizarre seeing the same stranger two days in a row in a city like New York, but hey, things could go right in her life, couldn’t they? She could get a little appreciation from the masses now and then, couldn’t she? “There’s no need to thank me,” Buffy said, smiling a little, “but it’s nice that you wanted to. And you’re welcome.”
“Oh, I didn’t want to thank you,” Jenny said hastily. At Buffy’s ill-concealed surprise, she hesitated. “I wanted to warn you.”
Buffy blinked. “What?”
Jenny looked around. “Want to get some bubble tea?” she said suddenly. “Maybe we could sit somewhere . . . in the back.”
Buffy wondered whether she should throw her up against the wall again and demand to know what she was going to warn her about. Jenny seemed harmless enough, but then again, Ubel Knopf wouldn’t look like much of a threat on a sunny day, either. But Ubel had given her a bad vibe from the beginning, and Jenny . . . just seemed human. A fresh, pretty, easily attacked human.
Still, it was best to be on her guard. The restaurant was open to the street, which left her a number of good outs. It was crowded enough that Buffy doubted Jenny would try anything, but not so very crowded that innocent bystanders would get hurt. Probably. Plus, there were chopsticks on the little wooden tables to make them look pretty. They would break easily, but in case Jenny had vamp back up it was always good to scope for stakes.
Jenny ordered them tapioca drinks, while Buffy waited near the back of the long, narrow café to try to snag them a table.
“Awkward, huh?” Jenny said, after they had finally sat down. “I didn’t mean to be. You saved my life.” It was a statement of fact, not a thank you. She was subtle about it, but Buffy had had enough desperate demons in her hands, enough scheming villains to see that Jenny was searching, looking for something in her eyes. After a moment, Jenny’s eyes dropped from Buffy’s steady reciprocation, and she held out her hand. “Jenny Calendar.”
“Anne,” Buffy said immediately. “Anne Harris.” Out of all her friends, Xander seemed to have the most innocuous last name.
“Great to meet you, Anne.”
Buffy poked her straw up and down in her cup, trying to look disinterested. “What’d you wanna warn me about?”
“It’s about the man. The one who came into the alley and . . . He saved me too, didn’t he?”
Buffy tried not to stiffen at her reference to Angel. Instead, she shrugged.
“He was with you,” Jenny persisted. “I mean, I heard you call his name.”
This was going from bad to worse. If Jenny was one of EEK’s spies, the cover they’d so carefully constructed the night before was almost certainly blown. While she’d always known that there was a possibility her plan could bring EEK after her too-Angel had warned her-the power she’d felt in Ubel as he disappeared left her very unexcited by the prospect.
Angel had also warned her that after the meeting she should keep a relatively low profile, not drawing attention to herself as the Slayer, so the Immortal-or EEK, if it came to that-wouldn’t expect having to deal with both of them. Buffy hadn’t considered reporting the crime last night would stir any waters, as it had nothing to do with demons, but perhaps the idea of doing it had been foolish. Perhaps it had been foolish to save Jenny at all, so close after the meeting with EEK. But if there was something funny about Jenny or the situation-something demonic-Angel would’ve sensed it with his vamp feelers and told her. Right?
Still, the fact that this woman just happened to see her again after last night and now had something to tell her about Angel was highly suspicious. Buffy decided her best option was to try to play the charade from the night before and just hope it worked.
“Angelus,” she mumbled at last.
Jenny looked around the shop quickly, then took a long sip of her tea. “Look,” she said finally. “I don’t know anything about you and how you . . . your relationship. Or him,” she added hurriedly. “But I do know this. Sounds funny-I don’t quite know how to explain, but . . . I saw his face change.”
Buffy didn’t remember Angel going into game face, but she’d been rather distracted at the time. It wasn’t so much the three guys holding her down as the woman she’d saved not running for her life, and the vampire she’d commanded not to follow her showing up anyway. And then she’d been even more distracted by that same vampire, who was supposed to have a chip in his head, attacking a human to save Jenny’s life. “Yeah,” Buffy said noncommittally. “It does that.”
Jenny crossed her arms on the table and leaned in, her voice lowering. “You don’t understand. It changed. I think there’s something . . . wrong with him.”
Buffy tried to affect a glazed look in her eyes. Perhaps this wasn’t necessary; perhaps Jenny really was trying to protect her from the demon she’d seen and hadn’t understood. Then again, maybe not. So, instead of responding as she normally would have, she gave a little fake shiver. “There are plenty of things wrong with Angelus.”
Jenny, looking startled, sat back a little and stirred her tea. “You’re young yet, Anne,” Jenny said finally. “And there are forces in this world that you can’t . . . Look, I’ve done a lot of research on the internet. And I know you can’t believe everything you read, but I’ve seen some of this stuff with my own eyes. I know you think he’s just some stray, want to help him out, taken in by a pretty face, but he’s dangerous. You should stay away from him.”
“Help him?” Buffy scoffed. “He’s a vampire.”
Jenny almost dropped her cup. “You know?”
“Sure,” Buffy said, slurring a little. “Think I’d’ve taken on all those guys just to get the crap beat out of me? Crap, but we were bored.” Buffy winced. That didn’t sound right. Did “left-overs”-as Ubel had called them-say the word “crap”? It was such a pain pretending to be dark and scary. Even after coming back to life, she hadn’t been dark enough to mess around with a vampire. How was a vamp tramp supposed to act when she didn’t have her suck-mate to lean on? Would cussing a lot do it? Maybe she should have said “fuck”.
Anyway, this proved one thing. Jenny was no perfect innocent, blind to the world around her. She knew vampires existed and she knew they were dangerous. Which didn’t at all prove she was evil or had any sort of connection with EEK, but Buffy wasn’t about to drop the act now.
“Bored?” Jenny seemed confused by this.
“And, well, he gets the midnight munchies. Yeah, bored! Remember, vampire? With the grr? He has to get his jollies somewhere.”
“Jollies? What’re you talking about?”
“I mean, aside from me,” Buffy tacked on quickly. “’Cause I provide jollies also. I’m like a jolly vendor. Except, you know, vampire, with the arrgh. Maybe it’s more like I provide anti-jollies.” Buffy winced. Jolly vendor?
“What’re you saying?” Jenny was frowning suspiciously.
Buffy shrugged and tried not to ramble. “Pretty face, you said it yourself. Think about it.”
Jenny looked like Buffy’d just told her her boyfriend was a serial killer. Which, actually, she had. “You’re lovers?”
From EEK, there should have been a marked lack of surprise. From the innocent Jenny was making herself out to be, there probably should’ve been revulsion. Jenny just seemed suspicious. “I love,” Buffy said, in a bored tone. “He feeds. It’s a thing.”
“But that’s not . . . What’s going on here? What’re you trying to pull?”
“What, you’ve never heard of a vamp having a suckbabe?” Buffy grimaced again. Angel should’ve given her a dark mistress vocab list. Learn these words by Thursday! There could’ve been a spelling bee, after.
“Why don’t you just tell me the truth?” Jenny’s eyes were keen.
“What makes you think I’m lying?” Buffy’s eyes were officially not meeting Jenny’s any more; too much keen could be a bad thing. “Whatever, lady. You know, I saved your life.” Buffy rose to stalk off, when Jenny grabbed her wrist. Humbly-and hating it-Buffy sat back down.
“Wait, this is important. You’re still in danger. You-whatever you’re trying to do, and whatever he’s doing-are you making him happy?”
“Happy? Angelus?” Buffy laughed harshly. “You need to find yourself a man, Jen. Are they ever happy?”
“I don’t know why you would lie,” Jenny said slowly. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing. Or him.”
“What I’m doing is getting back,” Buffy said, tugging her wrist from where it was still clutched in Jenny’s bony fingers. “He starts snacking if I’m away too long, and I just get so jealous.” She stood, purposely wobbling a little. Jenny stood as well, reaching out a reflexive hand to steady her. “Maybe I’ll get him a mango thing. He has a sweet fang, and he just loves take out. Speaking of which,” Buffy added, leaning against Jenny, “want to come with?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Jenny said, extricating herself from Buffy with some degree of disgust. “But whatever you think you’re trying to do, whatever he’s doing-it’s a lie. He-vampires are killers.”
“You have no idea,” Buffy snapped. “He’s waiting.” She picked up her purse and resolutely walked out of the café, careful to not look as if she was waiting to see whether Jenny was following her. Buffy hurried back to the hostel, hoping she looked liked she was hurrying home to get sucked on by a monster.