Please let me know what you think of it. Please? Okay, I'm done now.
It's his town, he told her so before, but he seems more than willing to share it now. She speaks of leaving, and his face tightens, then he changes the subject. He's missed her, even if he's only realizing it now that she's here. There are things to be done, but she's been to hell and back, and believes she deserves a little break. Besides, she's found a working routine here that's comfortable and efficient. With the hellmouth closed (well, not in Cleveland, but no one besides Giles is willing to admit to that yet) the demons and vampires are confused, disorderly. But L.A. was fairly recently full of vamps, and patrols are pretty satisfying.
She's set up teams of slayers, always with someone who has experience, and they've been sweeping the city in shifts. She has separate teams for locating other slayers, led by Willow. Some of the girls were restless, Kennedy included, and she's sent them to make contact with a few slayers they found nearby. Hopefully, they'll be getting new arrivals soon. In the meantime, she's finding herself unnerved by the simple lack of unnerving elements in her life. Things are pretty damn close to being in control, and she hasn't lost everything, though sometimes, late at night especially, it feels that way.
He defers to her, and so do the others, even those who were very recently casting her out for Faith. She reminds them that they are slayers too now, but they just smile a little and shake their heads. Sometimes she enjoys being able to run things her way, and keep an eye on everyone. Sometimes she hates it. Hates the responsibility. She's so tired of being in charge sometimes. But then she thinks back to Faith's question. Can you follow? If she were to be honest, she doesn't think so. After all, she burned down the gym at one school and blew up the other. Ran away from home and defied the ancient Council. She is not one to bow to authority, so it's probably good that she is the leader now.
She spends her days with Angel, carefully reminiscing and chatting about mundane, normal stuff. They have something, the two of them, a comfortable sense of just being right together. She thinks maybe she needs that. Needs him. He's there for her, always nearby, as if he's afraid to let her get out of his sight. He's changed, things have happened to him. Bad things. She knows that look. But he's still… him. And he knows. He knows the reason she won't let him get too close, and why she cries at night. He knows who she misses, and that she's not going to just forget him and move on. Sometimes, he can be pretty smart.
"Who, the poof?" he's there, sitting her on the bed, and she smiles a little, not having realized she was so close in her musings to dozing off.
"Don't call him that." She admonishes lightly, knowing he won't listen. She laces her fingers with his, taking delight in the childlike grin that sweeps across his face. She looks around them briefly, not really surprised to see her familiar bedroom, one that, in waking hours, she would never see again. Mister Gordo rests in the crook of her arm, and she feels almost content. Almost, off course, because she can't ever truly pretend that this is real. She can't do that, because she doesn't think she could stand to let herself believe he's not gone, only to be brokenhearted again in the morning. No way, no how.
"You really need to redecorate in here, pet." He tells her, looking pointedly at Mr. Gordo, then at the girlish accents around the room. She scoffs, giving her pig a quick hug.
"Oh yeah, cause it's so important to have a stylish pile of rubble."
"Well you don't gotta be sassy about it." She grabs a pillow and whacks him with it. It catches him off-guard, and he nearly falls off the bed. He grabs a pillow of his own, raising it high above his head. It's pink and frilly, and the image sends her into storms of laughter before he delivers the fatal whack; she really does fall off the bed. Or would have, anyway, if he hadn't grabbed her arm at the last possible second before her head hit the floor. She is still laughing hysterically, laughing like she hasn't in god knows how long. He tries to pull her up, but she is laughing too hard and ends up almost sending them both tumbling to the floor. But he is a stubborn bastard, and he hooks his feet on the other side of the bed, using his entire body as leverage to maneuver her back up beside him. This strikes her as even funnier, and she ends up a hopeless giggling heap on his chest. He doesn't seem to mind. After she calms down, they spend a few moments in silence.
"You're the only one I can just be with, you know?"
"That might end up being a problem, luv. You need to depend on them. The living. Or, un-living, what have you. Lively un-living, anyway…" He frowns, having confused himself, and she smiles, tracing the edge of his jaw with her fingers.
"I don't want to depend on them. I want to be here with you." He sighs, and wraps his arms around her, and, after rolling his eyes, Mr. Gordo too.
"I know you do. But I'm gone, luv. And this place… it only exists in you now. It's true what they say. You can't go home again." She looks around, then at him.
"Except in your dreams, I guess." He nods.
"Right you are. When you dream, you can have as much of me and Sunnyhell as you want, god help you."
"Well then," she grins at him, "I think I need to spend more time asleep."