tampered | log; complete;

log; complete;

When; Forward-dated to Tuesday evening.
Rating; PG-13?
Characters; Jenny Calendar [

thegoodbox]; Rupert Giles [

yesyesofcourse]; possibly more if appropriate
Summary; Jenny shows up, Passion-style.
Log;

There's a long way to go before Giles is going to consider himself at all acquainted with the City, or familiar with the situations that each of the students from Sunnydale High that he had taken under his wing has found themselves in now. What he's learned thus far already fills some number of notebooks that Giles carries with him, tucked under his arm, as he heads up the stairs and back to his room in the house that all of them share-- he's thumbing through the first one now, especially mindful of the little notes in the margins, written in Willow's careful handwriting. Out of all of them, Willow was, perhaps, the best in acquainting Giles with the City thanks to their like natures alone, although on the other end, she'd also given him some of the greatest surprises.

It seems that there are even greater ones in store, however, as Giles lifts his gaze from his books.

And finds one Jenny Calendar sprawled on the bed, looking just as she had when he'd found her in his apartment back in Sunnydale.

"J-- Jenny."

Half-tempted to turn straight around, Giles' brow furrows, twitches, as he steps towards his bed, books falling into a pile of crinkled leaves on the floor. "I'm sor--"

No, he can't go any further than that. There's no point. He's had enough warnings about the City and its tendency to play cruel tricks on the inhabitants. This certainly seems to be one of them.

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"Several days, not... long at all, but, erm. Buffy's been here for months, and-- and there are others. Willow, and-- and Xander. Cordelia most recently, in fact," he mutters, pulling off his glasses to clean them once more. "I'm still getting accustomed to the place, and I didn't expect another... arrival so soon, although yours may be..."

He pauses. It wouldn't be lying.

"...yours may be the most welcome yet."

For now, he neglects to mention that Angel is here. There will be plenty of time for that later, he thinks-- perhaps sleep is the best idea for Jenny.

"How, erm. Are you feeling right now? Is there any pain, anything I can help with?"

Jenny smiles, pleased that she is welcome. She shouldn't be surprised, considering how quickly he had taken her into his arms, but fear is rarely rational. She shakes her head in response to his question, and is surprised to find that the throbbing has died down. This place may not have restored her life fully, but at least she wouldn't be a walking corpse with a broken neck.

"I'm fine," she says. "Better than fine, really. I still can't believe it. How have we never heard of this place before? You'd think a dimension like this would warrant some kind of mention on the net, and especially in all your books. Somebody must have written about this place. It can't be completely unknown."

There's a pleased grin that passes for a moment over Giles' expression at the mention of the likelihood of something being mentioned especially in all of his books. As wonderful as the net is for some people, he's sure, there are a lot of things in books which simply can't be found on the web. He almost gives Jenny a nod, but he settles with a chuckle under his breath instead. The fact that Jenny's able to move her head around with some degree of comfort puts him further at ease.

"Well, erm... there are creatures that call themselves deities in this dimension, and they pull people from whatever dimensions or worlds they choose. Demigods at the least, I should think, and I don't know that we've dealt with anything quite-- quite of that magnitude before," Giles explains. "This place very clearly doesn't want to be found. There have been citizens who've gone back to their worlds for... for however long, and they say that upon returning to their worlds, they don't remember things which have passed, here. It's all quite fascinating."

She notices that grin, and if he had made a comment, she would have made a sassy remark. She has never claimed that the internet has more information on the supernatural than Rupert's texts; only that its information is more widely available. And someday...

"Memory spells are tricky, though," she says, thinking. "Even for gods. Especially with an operation of this scale, mistakes have to happen. Something must have gone wrong with somebody's memories."

Her observations are reassuring; this is what Jenny would do, pore over the details, analyze a situation--something the both of them had in common, even if they often consulted different sources. All things considered, between the two of them, they were able to cover a great deal of material. But even this City had, thus far, managed to elude Giles completely.

"Memory spells are tricky, yes," Giles nods, tapping his lip for a moment before biting down on the hook of his glasses. "Although really, I haven't encountered a-- a great deal of gods in my time, so I find it hard to speculate about how much they may be, erm, capable of. But memories are indeed one of the most uncertain things about this place. People returning with memories of this place, or without, or regaining them over time. In all the records I've found, however, it seems that no one's mentioned remember this City upon returning home. It may-- as much as I hate to say it-- be nigh impossible."

"Give it time before you use the 'i' word," Jenny says wryly. "We haven't even been here a week."

She's only been here a few hours, maybe even less. And as fascinating as the metaphysical discussion on the nature of this place is, Jenny has some more immediate, practical issues to resolve. She hesitates to bring them up, as loaded as they are with emotion, and there is a long stretch of silence as she gathers up her courage.

"We should...probably discuss some of the practical issues," she says at length.

"I've been here before as well, though, I just don't... recall," Giles admits finally, reaching for one of her hands and turning it over in his own. "For months, it seems, although still not anywhere as long as Buffy in particular. She says I was unable to find most anything, and, erm, well. Even Willow's... gone a bit skeptical, and you know how determined she can be."

Part of that, he does admit to himself, may be thanks to the fact that Willow's significant other is here, and apparently deceased, from what Giles was able to glean from the others. But that's something else he doesn't want to bring up, yet. Things past her time. It's an unpleasant thing to do, and selfishly, Giles wants to cling to what he's able to, right now.

"But yes, as for discussions, we... should indeed. Erm, what did you... have in mind?"

Of course he would leave the brainstorming up to her. It's the polite thing to do, of course -- it's her life (afterlife?), after all -- but a small, petty part of her feels like he's passing the buck. Mostly because she doesn't want to sort through the jumble of emotions, both her own and his.

She doesn't know what she wants, not really. A part of her wants to embrace this second chance, to hold onto him and never let go. A part of her needs space, space and time to adjust to this place, to being dead, to how she died. A part of her resents him; another part of her can't bear the guilt.

She needs space. She knows this is true, although she doesn't want to admit it even to herself. If she's going to fix things with Rupert, with Buffy and the others, then she can't be around all the time. They all will need safe places to retreat to. But how can she tell him that without hurting him?

In the end, she decides to just lay out the truth, painful or not. She had hurt him before by concealing the truth; she will not make that mistake again.

"I think...I think I need my own space." Her words are slow and halting, as she tries to put her thoughts as delicately as possible. "I think we both, we all, will need space to sort things through."

He spends about half a minute simply breathing, focusing all of his attention on finding a calm center. Was her suggestion unexpected? No, not in the slightest. After all, even at the closest point in their relationship, neither had spent the night in the other's place--after so many years of rash decisions, of Ethan, more or less, Giles now prefers to take things slowly. But at the same time, there are doubts that quickly rise to the surface, and memories of having such a conversation before.

How Jenny needed so much space, after finding out about his own history. Had also asked him to give her space and time. All things considered, in retrospect, while perhaps it didn't quite breach the point of hypocrisy, Giles couldn't help but wonder if Jenny ever realized the parallels between their situations. Giles had kept secrets from her, causing her to need space, but the opposite was also true.

And perhaps worse, as Giles' history had been just that-- something he'd meant to keep behind him, in the past. Not an ongoing way of life, an ongoing identity, that he was purposefully hiding from sight.

"I understand," he nods, the lack of stutter indicating his apparent calm. "There are plenty of free apartments in the center of the City that I could guide you to. And it appears I have a fair amount in my savings account from my prior stay here, if you, ah... need a loan."

Jenny isn't sure what to make of his reaction. It's better than him being angry or upset or arguing, but it also feels unnatural. She wonders what exactly he's feeling under that veneer of calm.

But she doesn't question him on it. Instead, she just quirks an eyebrow at him. "Advanced computers and free apartments?" she asks. "This must be what heaven looks like."

"Oh, by free, I meant... open. In terms of price, you'll find them to be roughly equivalent to rent in Sunnydale, and most jobs here pay decently if one gets to know their employers," Giles corrects himself, rubbing at his forehead for a moment. "I'm sure that we could head on over now-- many arrivals occur at night-- or you're free to use one of the spare rooms in the house for the night, as well. This place... used to house about twice our number, but a great deal of people left the City."

"Knew it was too good to be true. Know anyone in need of an outdated computer teacher?" Her jovial tone is a little forced; it's still too soon for her to be herself, but she feels obligated to try.

She pulls away from him and gets to her feet. Her legs feel weak and wobbly, but she refuses to indulge them. She smiles at Rupert, feigning strength.

"If you're not too tired, I'd love to see them," she says.

"I'm sure that Willow could catch you up with the most recent technologies." Giles doesn't make much of an attempt for jovial, sticking with polite composure, forcing conflicted thoughts into the deeper reaches of his mind until he has time to himself, time to think. "I can't imagine that you'd have much trouble... keeping up with the rest of the City after a few crash courses, perhaps."

He smiles back, distracted, before getting to his feet as well and walking to his closet, pulling out one of his smaller jumpers, as well as a jacket for himself. It isn't terribly cold out, but Jenny doesn't have the benefit of body heat to help her.

"I'm afraid that I'm rather awake now, actually," he smiles in return, offering Jenny the jumper.

Jenny takes the jumper with a smile and a suppressed laugh. His clothes are all so terribly stuffy and British. But that's what she likes about it.

"I'm glad," she says, and she is. She could handle herself alone; she's not the kind of person who need someone with her always. But she likes having him around. She puts on the jumper and gestures to the door. "Lead on."

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