A/N: Woo! So, this is my first Toy Story fic. It was mostly meant to be strictly Woody/Bo, but Jessie/Buzz kind of snuck its way in there. I'm not sure I'm too happy with the way it turned out, but you guys can be the judges of that. Some references to "Love The Way You Lie" by Eminem ft. Rihanna in here, which I do not own. I also don't own Toy Story, although it would be awesome if I did.
Woody's disappointed gaze circled around Andy's room. It was an easy feet, with his high vantage point on the shelf.
He'd failed, epicly. Out of all the toys they'd lost over the years, losing Bo had hurt the most. Of course, the other toys had tried placating him over the course of the three days since she'd been sold, but it had all been useless thus far. Every now and then, he'd see Jessie and Buzz in a corner of the room, their heads together as they endured a quiet conversation. Concerned expressions were plastered to both of their faces, and every now and then they'd wave over another toy to join them. Several emotions coursed through Woody every time he saw his best friends together; jealousy, pity, and guilt being the three most prominent. It wasn't that he was interested in either of them that way – he'd just lost Bo, after all- but it was more the fact that they still in fact had each other that irked. That was where the guilt came in; the fact that she had been sold had nothing whatsoever to do with either Buzz, or Jessie. The pity was a split factor, half for Woody himself for the cold, hard truth that he was taking her lost so hard, and half for Buzz and Jessie. She'd been in Andy's room for seven years now, and it seemed like everyday the two of them were caught up in their own dance. They were dangling over the straight divide between friendship and something more, and were doing nothing to help it along. Over the past few days, it was pretty clear that they hadn't been as focused on each other as they would've normally been. Being his best friends, Jessie and Buzz were probably attempting to come up with ideas to help cheer him up. None had yet been tried on him, though Woody knew it was only a matter of time before that changed. It was too soon for them to try anything, anyways. It felt like a steel knife to his wind pipe, thinking of how just a few days ago he'd watched the love of his life be sold for just a lousy dollar in the yard sale. The window had always been a good place to mourn the friends that they were about to lose, though this probably should have been the one instance where Woody should have abstained from watching; the image of seeing a little girl pick Bo off the rickety old table where she'd been placed was playing over and over in his mind, like a broken record.
'I guess,' Woody thought wryly, 'this is why windows have panes'.
His eyes glazed over the bedroom once more, with Woody actually taking note of what everyone else was doing this time around. Rex and Hamm were playing video games, The Potato Heads were attempting to bond with the overly affectionate LGMs, and Slink was playing checkers against Bullseye. Curiously, Jessie and Buzz were nowhere to be seen. Not on the bed, the windowsill, not even amidst any of the organized chaos happening on the hardwood floor. It was the slight movement of Andy's gigantic white door that got his attention, and Woody noted that it had been open all this time.
And there, in the hallway, stood Buzz and Jessie.
The ever present looks of concern were present on both of their faces, though a bit more so on Jessie's part than Buzz's. They were caught up in whatever it was that they were talking about, with use of their arms increasing with every spoken word. At last, Jessie through her arms around Buzz, and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. For a couple of moments, Buzz stood rooted to the spot. If toys could blush, Woody would've bet his hat that was what his friend would be doing just then. After a few more seconds, Buzz came to realize what was happening and returned the embrace. An odd look passed over Woody's face as he quickly averted his eye sight elsewhere. He felt… lighter, having just seen that exchange. It probably didn't mean much, though Woody was sure he would get the full scoop whenever their master plan to get the funk out of him was ready. For his friends, it was a step towards getting a new kind of happiness, and if it took Woody losing his for others to get that experience, then it shed sliver of light on the situation.
But only a sliver.