Good Enough Reasons
The Doctor's visit interrupted things for Judith and Angel. Though from Judith's perspective only one night had passed, the Doctor and his ship had crashed into her world with such force that she was reminded of a much bigger perspective than the small world of work, friends, and a sudden, somewhat confusing and unmentioned sex life. She needed a few days to reorient herself, to say nothing of letting Angel reorient himself.
She didn't know much about what happened on his side, and could only imagine the rest: An old friend of Angel's-an alien named The Doctor-had turned up in his time machine, which had promptly disappeared when the Doctor's back had been turned too long. Angel and Judith had helped him find it in the middle of a hostile horde of demons (or aliens? Judith wasn't sure anymore), and in the chaos, Judith had found herself inside the ship as it was taking off...without Angel or the Doctor on board.
The ship was exotic and terrifying, and the ride tossed her around so hard she had a deep bruise on her hip where she'd been thrown into the railing for at least two weeks. But then, suddenly, it was over and all was quiet again. When the door opened, she found herself in Angel's flat...twelve days in the future.
Angel and the Doctor both looked weary, but Angel much more so. Exhausted, frustrated, and nearing the end of his rope; about what was where her imagination came in, but she was certain it had a lot to do with the fact that he'd suddenly gotten an energetic, talkative, eccentric roommate for the past twelve days.
Angel had hugged her like she was the living embodiment of the announcement that it was all over, that he could have his home to himself again. And then the Doctor had done the same.
It was, needless to say, a very busy and exhausting night. There was some hell to pay in the aftermath, with needing to follow the lie that the Doctor had concocted for her that she'd been in witness protection for something having to do with the mob. She didn't know how the Doctor had managed to convince her superiors at work that this was true, but he did, and he had added that she wasn't to be asked any questions about it on her return. So that was a lie that was easy to follow, even though she hated lying.
What was much more difficult was the lie given to her friends. It seemed that Angel had felt that the witness protection lie was less likely to work on them (which was probably true, especially with Claire), so they had instead gone with a lie that Judith had suddenly needed to visit her very sick mother. Which was quite difficult, since in that day and age, with communications at their easiest and most reliable, her friends were deeply confused at the sudden black out, since she'd missed bridge night and not called ahead to let them know, or after to explain her absence. What illness, they wondered, was so serious that Judith couldn't even call from the train to Limerick, or send a quick text in a spare moment?
Judith hated lying to people, and it seemed like with her friends she was doing little else lately.
Which brought her back to Angel. They had been interrupted, and so had whatever it was that had been letting them continue seeing each other without openly acknowledging it. She thought surely, now, they would have to say something-or rather, she would have to say something. Angel had seemed much more comfortable with their unspoken arrangement (Judith found it exciting, but certainly not comfortable), so he didn't seem the likely one to bring it up, even if he now realized they must. And despite the age difference, she was the more mature of the two. Yes, it would have to be her.
That's what finally took her to the Dragon's Crown about a week after she returned. She figured that a public, well-lit area was as good a place as any to keep them from distracting the problem away.
Which was a good theory. Having asked Marty if Angel was there and been directed toward the back door, where he'd gone a few minutes ago with Grish the Goutler Demon to do things that Marty certainly didn't ask about, Judith went to find him, afraid that if she tried to wait her courage would fail her.
It wasn't so much the conversation itself that Judith was afraid of-she was comfortable with words-it was the decision they would have to make. They would either stop and acknowledge the three times as necessary: a round set of emotionally and physically fulfilling encounters. Thank you very much, I'll see you around.
Or...they would decide to keep going. The bad thing about that option being that it was so deliberate, so indicative of something happening between them that the very thought might keep that decision from being spoken by either of them. They wouldn't be able to say it, and so...default back to option number one.
Judith tried to remember why she was bringing it up at all.
Oh, yes. So-called "maturity" and "perspective."
Judith found herself in a poorly-lit short maze of hallways where she knew there were bathrooms, but beyond that discovered a few storage rooms, an office, and a short hall with a door to the alley out back. Angel was in this hall, turning away from the door, which was drifting shut. Judith briefly saw something spiney on the other side before the door latch clicked, followed by the soft sound of an automatic lock.
Angel stopped when he saw her, surprised, still in the process of tucking something in the inside pocket of his coat. Judith found herself on a ridge, choices falling sharply to both sides of her: The rational side, which would say, "We should talk like the two adults that we are," and the emotional side, which wouldn't say anything at all. Early in her life, the emotional side had almost always won out. But she was grown up, now, and perfectly capable of choosing the rational side.
Perfectly capable.
The darkness didn't help. Nor did their relative isolation, nor that long-buried spark of attraction to dangerous things. She would re-bury it, of course, later when he wasn't kissing her back and his hands weren't under her shirt.
The fact of the matter was that Judith was enjoying having a partner again; she was enjoying having sex. She could find someone else, she supposed-it didn't have to be Angel. There were apps for that sort of thing. Surely there must be another man her age nearby just looking for someone to appreciate and have a good time with. Someone gentle, stable, a little more her league in the body department. Someone where there wasn't guessing and lies and uncontrolled-
Judith bit back a gasp.
But of course she wouldn't. Why find someone else when she had what she wanted? And when (she could only assume, the way the high-pitched moan in his throat came so softly) he had what he wanted?
The guessing was temporary, and so were the lies. It was the intimacy she ultimately craved, and Angel knew things about her that even her oldest friends didn't. He cared for her in a way that she knew and trusted. If there was any emotional reason they needed to have that conversation, they would have had it.
And besides, she thought as he pressed her against the wall, one strong hand hooking under her thigh, what 55-year-old woman didn't want to be made to feel like she was 20 again, whatever she said about the joys of aging gracefully?
It was Eliza's turn to host card-playing the next time. She lived three blocks south of Angel and Marietta's building, on the other side of one of the hospitals that Judith worked at. That section of town was mostly residential: townhouses straddling the divide between urban and suburban. At one point, Judith and Sam had been looking at moving there to add space for their growing family, but the dream had gotten pushed back behind financial concerns and then pushed under by the strain of their relationship. Judith still liked this area, but she couldn't imagine living anywhere but her flat anymore.
Eliza, though, had been living there for decades. She had also become a single mother when her husband, Macky, had died suddenly of something related to an accidental drug overdose. Macky had been on prescriptions for anxiety and depression, but Judith never knew exactly which ones, and hadn't ever had the nerve to ask.
He had left Eliza with a teenage daughter, so her single mothering experience was considerably different and shorter than Judith's, and Eliza had begun dating again within a few years. Now she was remarried-somewhat ironically to a drug addiction counselor-and Judith remained the group's token single.
There were seven women in this particular social group, all of whom knew each other from their children's primary school days. In addition to being the only single member, Judith was also the only divorcee and Eliza the only widow. Adele and Laurie were the only same-sex couple, although drama-loving Claire loved to tell the story about when her female ex-fiance left her after meeting Alejandro, and that was how Alejandro met Claire and ultimately married her. Then there was Georgiana, who was in Argentina for the winter with her husband visiting their daughter, and finally, Marietta.
"We really should all get together more often than once a year," Eliza was saying as she arranged snack bowls on the table that evening. "Julian has been asking about everyone. It's antiquated and segregationist of us, isn't it?"
While the women had card-playing penciled in for every other week, providing enough of them could show, the men (which actually included Laurie; Judith wasn't quite sure how that had happened) had their own regular meetings. And yes, it had struck Judith as exceedingly old-fashioned of them, but that was how it had turned out. None of the wives save for Laurie had any idea what the men got up to; and Laurie was tight-lipped about it. She said that she didn't divulge to the men what she knew about the women's group, so why would she betray her gentleman's group?
What Judith knew was that cigars and brandy were involved, for the way Sam would come home smelling, and she would tease him for taking trips to the 19th century instead of his friends' houses. Sam was still a part of that group, and so they were guaranteed to see each other at least once a year in the spring, when Georgianna and Viggo hosted a get-together at their estate in Avignon.
There was a general exclamation of agreement from everyone else that they should socialize more often across the gender gap, and a quieter murmur of acknowledgement from Judith, who would like to see her friends' spouses more often, but not her ex, if she could help it. The blood between them was not especially bad but it was also not especially good, for many reasons.
Since Georgiana was out of town and there were five of them that night, they all agreed on gin rummy instead of bridge; and Claire began passing out the drinks. People meandered toward their seats as they discussed possible dates for dinner. Judith found herself agreeing to one with Eliza and Julian in two Mondays, which Adele said that Laurie might also make (but Adele herself regrettably had another engagement).
Adele and Laurie were the oldest couple of any of them, just passing their mid-60's. They lived in a modest house in Old Galway where Adele was a preschool teacher and Laurie owned a small jeweler's shop. They were kindly and poised in their grandmotherly plumpness, and Judith often thought they looked like they had just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Marietta almost immediately brought up the subject of Judith's mother and Judith's mysterious twelve-day vacation to the time vortex (which was where Angel had explained that she actually was, according to the Doctor), as Judith had expected and prepared for. Well, she had worried about it and spent several hours looking up diseases that could potentially account for her having turned her Palm off and not contacted anyone for the duration of the "sickness." There were none.
So instead she gave them an emotional, "It was very exhausting and I just couldn't bear to talk to one more person about it," adding that she'd hoped that William might think to call them and let them know that she was out of town, but he was very busy himself.
Being known as The Honest One really had its advantages sometimes.
Assured that Judith and her mother were indeed fine and well on their way to recovering from an emotionally and physically trying ten days of mortal uncertainty (which Marietta sympathized with, since her husband was away in London also caring for his sick mother- "We're just hoping the angels pull through with some miracles," she told her empathetically), the mood relaxed and they moved on to other urgent topics. For example, Adele and Laurie's new grandson, over whom they all awwww-ed in pictures and videos.
"Oh, look at those cheeks!" Claire said, puffing out her own and scrunching her fingers like she wanted to grab them.
"He looks like a Theo," Eliza beamed.
"Such an angelic face!" Marietta cried, and Judith noticed her glance briefly in Judith's direction in a way that struck her as odd, but then Marietta twisted the holographic projection from the Palm around so Judith could see it better.
All of the comments were true, and Judith's heart melted at the thought of a grandchild. It seemed imminent now, but she had refrained herself from asking William what their plans were. She slid the Palm back down the table toward Adele. "He's beautiful," she said. "Perfect."
It took a long time to get through that first round because of all the oooo-ing over pictures and watching videos, but Judith eventually won it. After that, it became clear that the stars were more aligned in her favor tonight-but only for card-playing, it seemed.
While Judith continued to win rounds, Marietta continued making seemingly innocuous references to things "angelic," and then glancing briefly Judith's way whenever she did it, or otherwise had a too-innocent expression on her face. Later, Judith supposed she should have guessed what was coming, though it took long enough that she had fooled herself into believing that she really was off the hook tonight, having already been grilled once about her mother.
After several rounds, when everyone had consumed at least one drink and several handfuls of snacks, and when all of the other crucial topics had been discussed (including a long discussion about Georgiana's daughter's ex-fiancé and how none of them had really thought that he was worthy of marrying into the Maughan family anyway), Marietta spoke the words that made Judith choke on her drink:
"I know who Judy's seeing."
Everyone around the table gasped. Adele had, evidently, been filled in properly, if her equally excited reaction was any indication (as had, Judith suspected, Georgiana, whom Judith was now exceedingly grateful was out of the country).
"She's still seeing him?" Eliza asked Marietta as if Judith weren't there.
"Is it good?" Claire asked. "Oh please tell me it's good." Judith noticed that she hadn't even waited for Marietta's reply-apparently, it was no shock to her that Judith was still seeing this mystery man.
"Oh, it's good," Marietta promised. "It's positively outrageous."
Judith's stomach turned over and plunged into her jelly-like guts. She turned bright red and tried to hide behind her cards while the rest of the table oooed and tittered and gasped.
"Oh God, save me," Judith murmured. It was the closest she'd come to an actual prayer in years.
"So it is Scott Williams?" Eliza asked.
"God, no," Marieta grimaced. "It's even better!"
"Or kill me, I don't care…"
"For heaven's sake, Mari, just tell us," Adele said.
"I think I should let Judy tell," Marietta said with a playful smirk.
Judith peered over the top of her cards and glared at Marietta. "Why on earth would I do that?" She lowered her cards a bit further so that her mouth wouldn't be muffled—even in times like this, Judith preferred to have clear diction. "How did you find out, anyway?"
"I think you know."
"Humor me."
Marietta leaned back comfortably in her chair. "I'll just tell the whole story, shall I?"
"Wait!" Claire jumped up from the table and dashed into the kitchen. There was a deep glass clattering sound and seconds later, she returned with several bottles of alcohol in her arms.
"Refills!" she declared, and there was an enthusiastic agreement on all sides, including—or perhaps especially—Judith. She poured herself a rather generous second helping of strong gin and tonic and tried her very best to melt into her chair and disappear entirely.
It didn't work.
"It was a Thursday evening three weeks ago just before nine o'clock at night," Marietta began, and an excited hush fell over the room, except for Claire, who cried,
"Three weeks? You waited three weeks to tell us?"
"Well I couldn't tell you all without Judith here, could I?" Marietta replied like it was obvious. "Just look how red she is already! Love you, dear."
Judith considered calling Marietta something rude, but decided to take the high road and ignored her instead.
"Anyway," Marietta continued as Claire and the others nodded their agreement about Marietta's decision to wait until Judith was present for this, "I was heading out to the grocer's because I needed ingredients to make quiche for the book club brunch the next day when I ran into our dear Judy in the foyer of my building. What could she be doing here so late in the day? I asked myself. Well, I asked her that, and she replied that she was just 'in the neighborhood' and wanted to see me personally about a cheesecake recipe that I'd promised her. Normally, that would be strange, right ladies? But this is Judith we're talking about."
There was a general nodding of heads and murmur of assent around the table and Judith took a long swig of her drink, wondering if she should be concerned that she was that predictable.
"So I promised to send the recipe along the next day, since I really had to get to the store before it closed. Did you get it, by the way, dear?"
Judith nodded.
Marietta smiled broadly. "Good. So I turned to leave and Judy did not follow me."
There was a general noise of interest.
"Naturally, I said, 'Judy, aren't you coming?' and she said yes, of course, and that her mind was elsewhere. Where did you say it was, darling?"
"William," Judith replied.
"Right…and of course, ladies, this is also not unusual for Judith, so I let that go, as well."
There were more noises of agreement and Judith frowned. She really was predictable, wasn't she?
"So we left the building together," Marietta continued, "and suddenly Judith decided that she wanted to stop at the bakery; and I'm sure we all know that nighttime is the worst time to go to a bakery—"
"I happen to like their end-of-day specials," Judith interrupted, but no one paid attention.
"I let her go, of course, but by the time I rounded the corner I was truly suspicious that something else was going on, so I doubled back just in time to see Judy going back into the building."
Judith cursed silently. She should have actually gone into the bakery for good measure. The other women buzzed with speculation, but quieted as soon as Marietta started talking again.
"Well, I really did need to get to the store—you can't make a quiche with just two eggs!"
The women laughed, although Claire's expression was one of someone who knew she was supposed to laugh but didn't get the joke - Claire rarely cooked.
"I went to the store and came home, thinking all the while. There is one other person in my building that I know Judy knows, so I followed my hunch. I looked his flat number up in the directory and marched right on up and knocked on his door…"
The women waited with baited breath and eyes round with anticipation.
"He's very handsome, Judy. Despite my own misgivings about him. To each her own, I guess..."
Judith took another long sip of her drink and then locked her jaw closed.
Marietta continued with a dramatically quiet tone; she had been waiting quite a long time for this reveal, and apparently she was going to enjoy it. "I told him I was taking a poll for the building and needed to ask some questions, so I walked in… I looked around…keep in mind, ladies, it was after ten o'clock at night by this point…and sure enough, Judith's lovely brown suede Oliver Kark coat was hanging by the door."
There were several squeals and claps.
Judith frowned deeply. "That line about the poll was ludicrous."
"I beg to differ, dear. Do you know what I found out, thanks to my little poll? Well, you must, of course, you were hiding behind the bedroom door, I'm sure."
The other women laughed, hardly able to control their utter delight.
Eliza prodded Marietta's arm. "What? What did you find out?"
Marietta smirked. "His age."
A stunned silence briefly followed before the women fairly pounced on Marietta—Claire knocked a bowl of pretzels to the floor. Judith bit her lip.
Marietta savored the moment and waited to answer the women's pleas to tell them how old Judith's new lover was. Finally, she held up a hand for silence like a conductor in an orchestra. She opened her mouth and said with perfect annunciation, "Twenty-nine."
Adele dropped her glass on the table. Eliza shrieked. Claire rounded on Judith, her mouth wide with delightfully-scandalized shock. "Judith Marie Thacker Cole!"
Judith felt simultaneously like she wanted to melt away and explode into tiny, irretrievable pieces. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
Immediately on her right, Adele focused an intense gaze of shock on Judith. "You're sleeping with a man who's younger than your son?"
"No," Judith squeaked through her fingers, horrified. She lifted her hand away and pressed it against her heart instead. "No, I swear I'm not."
"Not what?" Adele asked. "Sleeping with him?"
"No, I am," Judith admitted—what was the point in denying it now? "But he lied about his age."
Eliza narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Oh come on, Judy…"
"Marietta," Judith turned to her with a pleading expression to be reasonable. "You know he's lived in your building a long time and that he used to tutor Will. He can't possibly be younger than my son."
Marietta frowned and seemed to be trying to puzzle that out, but Eliza and Claire gasped simultaneously in realization, redirecting the conversation.
"He's not that dark-haired man you ran into when we were going out for chocolate?" Claire asked. "Who smelled like...what was it? Sulfur?"
"That's the one," Marietta confirmed, shaking her head a little to bring her focus back. "He really is an odd one. But I trust Judith's judge of character…" She said this like one might say the phrase, Girls will be girls..., so Judith doubted the true extent of that trust. Not that Marietta was at all wrong.
"Damn…" Claire said approvingly. "He is beautiful. So long as he doesn't always smell like that."
"Do all of you know what he looks like but me?" Adele asked, shaking her head disapprovingly. "No good. Show us a picture."
"He'll be in the building directory," Marietta said. "Hold on…" She pulled out her Palm and several seconds later held it out to Adele, who took it and squinted at the picture through her reading glasses.
"Not bad…" Adele said, though she sounded like she didn't entirely agree. She focused on something toward the bottom of the screen. "His name is Angel?"
Judith couldn't help it. She leaned over to see the picture.
It looked more like a mug shot. Judith had forgotten how surly he'd been in the early years. "Oh, that's a terrible photo," she said.
"I bet you have some good ones," Eliza smiled.
Claire snorted. "Yeah, I'll bet she has some really good ones."
"Claire!" Judith cried.
"Go on, then," Adele said to Judith. "Show us some good ones. And seriously: Angel? It doesn't even list a last name."
"Actually," Claire mused, "that's a fair question. It's kind of porn star, no? I guess he could be older if he's had plastic surgery, like they do. Are you dating a porn star, Judy?"
Judith obligingly pulled out her Palm as she glared at Claire. "Certainly not. He is not a porn star and we are not dating and he has not had plastic surgery and his name is just Angel." After she'd said it, she thought that maybe it would have been easier to let them believe the story, but with a lie that big, she wasn't sure she would have physically been able to.
Palms automatically scanned photos for recognizable faces and tagged them accordingly, so it was easy for Judith to filter for pictures of Angel and find some from William's wedding for Adele to see. The ladies had seen wedding pictures, of course, but Judith had been careful to withhold the ones that prominently featured Angel, lest Marietta recognize her neighbor, or any of them comment on who this man was who appeared with them all as often as a family member might have.
Judith handed the Palm to them and Adele immediately made a pulling gesture like tugging something out of the screen. The picture Judith had chosen of William and his groomsmen appeared in holo-projected form for everyone to see. Adele set the Palm on the table and reached out to adjust the screen so that it was vertical - it would be mirrored for the ladies on the backside of it, but they would be able to see it just as clearly. Judith settled back nervously in her seat as Marietta pointed out which one was Angel.
Adele whistled appreciatively-more inclined than her wife to find men attractive also-and began to flick through the pictures. The entire table of women leaned and craned to find the best view of the projection. Claire, who sat just to Judith's left and had one of the worse viewing angles, muttered something about how someday they would figure out spherical photography. Judith crossed her arms and took a long swig of her drink, contemplating running away while they were distracted.
One of the pictures in particular elicited several admiring murmurs and comments, and Adele looked over briefly to ask, "You weren't sleeping with him at this point, were you?"
"No," Judith replied uncomfortably, glancing up at the photo they'd paused on. It was one she had always liked: a flattering candid shot of herself and Angel waltzing at the reception; the photographer had managed to capture Angel with a rare smile. She added, "We've been friends for a long time, but this," (for once, she didn't feel the need to specify what "this" was) "is a very recent development."
"He is quite fine," Adele agreed, glancing back at the photo. "So how old is he really?"
Judith swallowed uncomfortably. "I'd rather not say."
"Why?" Adele looked at Judith again. "He's not younger than 29, is he?"
"No! Heavens, no. It's just… Look, let it be, alright? It's a sensitive topic." She had researched possible reasons that a dire illness could keep someone from turning on their Palm, but it hadn't occurred to her to come up with a plausible reason that her 475-year-old lover, who died when he was 26, might lie and say he was 29 when really, he should have said somewhere north of 37 to avoid the indecency line. She just wasn't prepared for this sort of thing.
The other ladies sat back down slowly, glancing at each other for ideas about what to make of that.
"Alright, dear, we'll let it go…" Adele said slowly, glancing back at the screen, as if the picture would give her a clue. She minimized the projection, but picked the device up and started flicking through again.
Eliza hesitated. "So... Where did you meet him?"
"As I said, he used to tutor William."
"In what?"
Judith shifted in her seat. "Oh, history, languages, martial arts… Can we please not talk about him?"
Judith's friends glanced at each other again.
"Sweetheart…are you okay?" Claire reached out from Judith's left to touch her elbow.
"Fine," Judith replied shortly. "I would just…really rather not talk about it."
There was a moment of tense silence. Finally Adele said, "We can help you, dear. That's what we're here for. You don't need to be ashamed of it…" Something seemed to occur to her suddenly. "He's not married, is he?"
"No," Judith replied. "And I'm not ashamed. Really. That's not the problem."
"Then what is the problem?"
Judith shook her head. There were too many problems all tangled together, and she really couldn't have described them even if she wanted to. They were already too close to the topic of Angel being a vampire, and they'd only asked the supposedly easy questions.
There was a sudden gasp from Adele and everyone's heads snapped toward her. She looked up, seemingly alarmed at her own exclamation. Claire threw herself across the table and grabbed the Palm out of Adele's hand, who made a short noise of protest, and then Claire yelled,
"Oh my god!"
That was the end of any semblance of decorum in the room for the next several minutes.
It turned out that Adele had found the picture of Judith in the corset (Judith must have neglected to filter for just Angel's face and not geography related to Angel - like his home), and really, though Judith's night had already taken a sharp nosedive, that was where it crashed and exploded.
Amid cries of glee, envious admiration, and teasing jabs, she somehow managed to pass off the situation with a story about him growing up the son of historical reenactors, which sufficiently explained both how the topic had come up and how he'd managed to find an authentically-made costume (and why he might be a good history tutor-it was one lie that went right).
Beyond that, she had nothing to say. Claire had tried to turn the situation into something delightfully scandalous, which Judith quickly dampened by sheer force of mood. All four of her friends became deeply concerned at that point, and all four leaned toward her that was supposed to be some sort of net of support, but came off more as an encroaching pride lions. Well-meaning lions, she granted.
"Judith," Adele said in a soft but firm voice that belied her career as a preschool teacher. "What aren't you telling us?"
Claire held up a hand. "Wrong question," she told Adele. "Judith…" Judith noticed that they were using her full name, which was how she preferred it, but because of the affectionate way they called her "Judy," had gotten used to the nickname. "Why aren't you happy?"
That was a good question.
She'd thought she was happy. But as soon as Claire asked, Judith realized that she couldn't truthfully say she was-not without reservation-and she didn't think it was entirely due to overwhelming embarrassment.
The table waited.
"Because there's too much I can't tell you," Judith finally said. "And I wish I could." That was a good answer. It covered most of the bases.
Marietta tilted her head to one side. "You mean about his age?"
"Lots of things," Judith replied.
Claire cleared her throat and Judith looked at her. "What else aren't you happy about?"
Judith picked up her glass and took a long drink. Everyone watched her carefully. Finally, she said, "Probably less than I should be, considering the circumstances. And probably more than I should be, if what I think are the circumstances are true."
Claire frowned. "That didn't make any sense."
Judith sighed. "I know." It didn't to her, either.
After a moment of silence, Eliza asked, "Well?"
Another long moment passed. Judith sipped at her drink absently once, and then once again. Not talking about things was the way her family dealt with their problems, not how Judith dealt with them. But even now, decades out from her family's influence, holding it in was a habit that she occasionally had to remind herself to break.
"We're not in love," she said finally. "Which is fine. But it was supposed to be just the once. So I'm...confused." Yes, confused worked. She had the facts (they were sleeping together, they enjoyed sleeping together, they apparently weren't going to stop, and they were not in any other way romantically involved), but she didn't know what to do with those facts, beyond her one failed attempt to talk about it. Judith rarely didn't know what to do with facts anymore, and she even more rarely failed at conversation. She'd seen Angel once more since then and didn't even try to bring it up again, lest she fail a second time.
She had paused long enough for Claire to ask, "How many times?"
Judith bit her lower lip. "Six. And we haven't talked about it."
"At all?" Adele asked.
Judith shook her head. "So I don't know what to think. It's like there's a threshold. Everything is normal between us until-very suddenly-it's not, and neither of us want to break the moment. And then the moment is over and the one of us leaves before the other wakes up, and it never gets talked about."
Claire shifted a bit in her seat so she was facing Judith more fully. "What are you afraid one of you will say if you bring it up?"
Judith swallowed. "That we need to stop."
The other women nodded in ways that were both knowing and empathetic.
Marietta asked, "Should you stop?"
Another good question. Being friends with Angel was one thing: it was easier to let the fact that he was a vampire stay in the realm of Accepted But Not Condoned. Sleeping with him was...well, not exactly against her moral standards, but harder to accept for some reason. There was a line that she couldn't articulate, but she was toeing it.
On the other hand, he didn't act on his evil impulses, and that choice that he made was what helped her accept-love-him as a friend. That should have been worth enough to carry it through beyond, shouldn't it?
"I don't know," she said. "I guess not."
"Why don't you want to?" Claire asked.
Judith didn't answer right away, the answers coming to her like a flood, sweeping her away in a confusing (and exciting) wash of recent memories. When she found her footing again in her own mind, there was one clear answer, "Because he makes me feel desirable."
There was a soft, collected Mmm of knowing around the table. Judith looked at her Palm in front of Claire, which had turned itself off, now, and sat up to draw it toward her.
"Just after that picture was taken," she began, and they all knew which one she meant, though she didn't turn the device on again, "we were talking about youth-because he looks so young, like he could be twenty-nine," she inclined her head toward Marietta. "And how, costume or not, I don't." She hesitated.
"And then he kissed me, and I knew that it didn't matter to him. That...if he had magical powers or the secret to eternal youth, he'd choose me exactly as I am." Which he did, actually, and, yes, he did to the second one, too. And he had chosen.
"I used to worry that Sam wouldn't feel that way about me when we reached this age. Actually," she chuckled, "I guess he doesn't. But when I'm with Angel… I've never-not once-thought that I was anything less than exactly what he wanted in that moment."
Judith looked up. The other women were smiling at her dreamily.
"Wow," Eliza breathed.
"He's falling for you," Claire said matter-of-factly.
Judith shook her head. "No. He's not."
"Uh. Yes. He is," Claire insisted.
"He's not," Judith repeated firmly, catching Claire's eye.
"How do you know?" Claire challenged.
"Because…" The other complicating factor… "He's in love with someone else."
A stunned silence followed before Claire leaned in further. "Who?"
"A woman," Judith said unhelpfully.
"Gonna need more than that," Claire said.
Judith briefly explained the situation with Cordelia as best she could.
"So... " Claire tried to sort it out. "He sees her when she comes into town. He sees you the rest of the time. And when she comes back, you're totally okay with him going to her because he's in love with her and she's in love with him and you're not in love with either of them?"
Judith winced.
Claire held up a hand. "Not a judgment. Just clarifying."
"Yes," Judith said. "That's about it."
"Huh." Claire nodded. The rest of the table was still conspicuously silent.
"So…" Claire started again. "You're in an open polyamorous relationship."
"No," Judith insisted.
"Right," Claire quickly agreed. "Polyamorous implies amor. What would it be, then? Polysexual? Whatever, it's poly and it's open, and you're in it."
Judith was about to protest again, but then the argument sank in. Heavily. Her jaw opened with the weight of it. "Oh my god," she said breathlessly. "Oh. My. God."
Adele placed a hand comfortingly on Judith's shoulder.
"Oh my god," Judith repeated. "What the hell am I doing?"
A collective sigh of relief went around the table, and Claire said, "There she is, ladies." Claire took one of Judith's hands in both of her own. "It's okay, my dear Judith, we will get you through this."
"Until just now," Judith said weakly, "I wasn't aware there was anything to get through…"
Claire nodded knowingly. "Good sex will blind you like that. And I know there's nothing wrong with open or poly relationships if that's your thing, but Judy: it's not your thing."
Judith shook her head. "Right, no, it's not." She wouldn't have thought. She was loyal to the people she loved, and loyalty's lover was jealousy. She didn't condemn other people in open relationships, but she never thought she could have done it herself.
But she had done it. She'd done it, and she didn't even realize it. "Maybe," she said, thinking out loud, "it's because we're not in love." She looked at her friends for confirmation. "Is that why I didn't notice? Does it not count as an open relationship if it's not a relationship?"
"No, it counts," Claire said thoughtfully, letting go of Judith's hand. "You know, the whole lack-of-emotions thing is working in your favor now, Judy, but you're going to get attached."
"Yes," Marietta agreed, "and then what?"
"I-" Judith had no idea. It was likely that she'd get attached. Indeed, and then what? "So I should stop," she concluded, and a lead weight sank in her stomach to say it. Was that attachment already setting in?
"Depends," Claire tilted her head with the word. "How often does Lover Girl come into town?"
"It was almost two years, this last time."
Claire made a noise of consideration. "And how long does she stay?"
"I'm not sure," Judith replied. "I've never heard of her staying longer than a day or two."
There were murmurs of ambivalence around the table. Adele spoke up, "If you can let him go for that day or two, it could work out…"
"Or he could just not tell you," Claire suggested.
"Judy," Marietta leaned forward. "I don't think you'd want that."
Judith was unsure of what she wanted, now. Life had changed so suddenly, and she'd thought that she liked it. "You think I should stop," she told Marietta.
"Well," Marietta straightened her shoulders. "I told you, I have misgivings about him anyway. I will love you no matter what, but yes, for your sake, I think you should stop."
Judith looked at Eliza, the next person on the right. "You?"
Eliza grimaced. "Like Mari says, I'll love you no matter what, but…"
Judith nodded and turned to Adele beside her.
"I…" Adele said slowly, "...am not in your shoes. In the short term, no. It sounds amazing, what you have. But in the long term...probably yes."
Judith nodded and turned to Claire on her other side, who held up a hand. "I wouldn't stop. And I'd kind of like to see what happens if you don't. But...it's probably safer if you do." She shrugged. "Your choice."
Judith nodded and sighed heavily.
Her choice.
Judith was standing outside her building by the time she called Angel, somehow unwilling to make the call somewhere warmer and brighter. She pressed the Palm to her ear nervously as she waited for him to answer, needing to keep the call audio rather than video.
"Hey," he said after a few rings. He sounded so...normal.
"Hi," she said a bit breathlessly, though part of that was from walking in the cold night air. She swallowed. Emotions could be involved, she reminded herself. She forced the words out. "Will you come over? I think we should talk."
There was a deep pause and Judith could almost hear his silent curse. "Yeah, of course," he said. "See you soon." He hung up before she could say goodbye, but Judith found she didn't mind. She looked up at the windows to her flat on the third floor, and she went inside to wait for him.
Claire and Marietta were worried about Judith.
Their routes home were similar enough that they walked together, diving into an analysis of what exactly had happened that night. Marietta worried that they had made things worse for Judith, for how miserable she'd looked when she left, but Claire insisted that they'd done the right thing and that they shouldn't stop there. They loved Judith dearly, after all, so they had to help her.
But what could be done? Marietta wondered.
"We figure out just who this Angel-guy is," Claire said matter-of-factly. "We'll follow your hunch about him, and if he really is as untrustworthy as you think, we'll have something to tell Judith."
"Oh Claire, I don't know…"
"Mari," Claire said, sliding her arm around her friend. "Judith is not okay. We have to do something, and that something right now is to at least make sure she's safe. You know, just a simple background check to make sure she's not seeing a mass murderer or a rapist or a sadist or something." She smiled. "Right? So tell me about him."
"Well…" Marietta thought for a moment and then began to list the few things she'd observed about Angel: how cold and reserved he always was, how he often walked with a limp or dripping blood, or some other injury, how he never seemed to age even though he'd been there- Marietta had to think for a minute… Certainly more than ten years, but she thought it must be even longer.
"It's got to be surgery," Claire muttered. "Okay, what else? You were in his flat. What was it like?"
This turned out to be a much more interesting discussion because of the amount of wood and paper books he had, and Marietta told Claire all that she could remember.
When she was done, Claire tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That's first on our list, then," she said after a moment.
"What?"
"Finding out what kind of books he has. You can tell a lot about a person by the kind of books they keep, especially if they're paper. Let's go see him."
Marietta protested a bit, but it turned out she needn't have. They had just reached Angel and Marietta's building when he came out the front door. His shoulders and head were bent against the cold (and, it seemed to Marietta, against any people he might pass—he really did not seem like a warm enough person for Judith to be attracted to), and he walked down the few steps to the sidewalk with a resigned determination, like he didn't want to go wherever he was going, but he also didn't want to dawdle.
Claire nudged Marietta's ribs as they approached the steps, and Marietta said without thinking what she would follow it with,
"Angel?"
Angel stopped and turned around. Marietta took a deep breath. Claire nudged her again, and Marietta trotted forward, swallowing nervously. She held out her hand, halting as far as she could away from him without the reach being awkward. "Marietta Goldberg, from your building. Here. This building. Remember?"
"Of course," he replied, taking her hand and dropping it quickly (he wasn't wearing gloves, she noticed, which was maybe why he always kept his hands in his pockets?). "You were taking the poll…"
"R-right. I was. Yes." She glanced at Claire, who nodded minutely this time. "Look, I was wondering... I noticed all the paper books in your apartment…"
Angel stared at her expectantly.
Marietta swallowed. "And I wanted to know…" She cleared her throat. "Where did you get them? You don't see a collection like that anymore." She winced inwardly. You didn't see a collection like that ever.
Angel shrugged nonchalantly, but his expression remained skeptical. "There are shops around…"
"Where?"
Angel narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"You see, I ask because I'm looking for something to give to my brother-in-law for his birthday and…he likes books."
"E-books are cheaper," Angel said.
"Not those kind of books," Marietta replied. She hadn't seen any of the titles of Angel's books, but she assumed they must be of some specific importance for someone to go through the trouble of preserving and reselling them. She seemed to have hit a mark because Angel's expression shifted ever so slightly from skeptical and cold to surprised and cold. Marietta went with it. "He likes rare books of a…" she faltered, "special variety. If you know what I mean."
Angel stared at her an extra moment and said, "Try Ferguson's. About two blocks north on the other side of Ballybaan."
"Thank you," Marietta smiled. Angel just continued to frown at them skeptically. "Well…we won't hold you up any longer…" She nudged Claire and they started to move away.
"I trust that you know," Angel said, and they turned, "not to touch anything if you don't know what it does."
Marietta smiled, though it was an odd and slightly eerie statement. "Right. Thank you, we won't."
Then Angel turned and walked away, more quickly than Marietta thought should be possible.
"That was weird," Claire said softly.
"He's creepy." Marietta shivered. "I'm worried for Judy. I don't think he's the type to take rejection lightly."
"Me neither. When does this Ferguson's place open tomorrow?"
Marietta tapped the ring on her finger and her Palm screen lit up onto her hand. She looked up the shop and her eyebrows shot up. "It's open now. It's late for a rare bookstore."
"Then let's go see exactly what kind of 'special' books Angel collects…"
"You know," Judith said as Angel stepped through the door past her, "I think at this point you don't need to wait for me to open the door…"
Angel gave a little shrug. "I'm kind of not really sure of anything when it comes to you these days," he admitted.
Judith was relieved to hear it, actually. She wasn't the only one, then.
"I know," she said softly and shut the door. There was a pause, and then she asked, "Tea?"
Angel shook his head. "Let's just have it out."
Letting out a breath of resignation, Judith nodded. She led the way into the living room, but neither of them seemed to want to sit down. They stared at the couches for a long moment, and then both decided to break the silence.
Angel asked, "Are you ending it?" at the same time as Judith asked, "What are we doing?"
They looked at each other in surprise.
"No," Judith said. She had thought long and hard all the way home and during the agonizing several minutes it took for Angel to get there, and despite the vote her friends had cast for her, Adele was right: they didn't know everything. Judith had rules about moral values to keep her safe, but she didn't have rules about safety to keep her safe-just normal caution. And, despite the compelling logic, it didn't feel like an unsafe situation. Not right now, anyway. But then, she didn't have all the information, either. That was why she was asking.
Angel's shoulders relaxed a bit. "And I don't know what we're doing," he said in response to her question. "But...it kinda felt like that was the point."
Judith nodded. "I thought so too."
"Until?"
She smiled grimly. "I got accidentally launched outside the universe. It wedged a bit of reality in me. And also mostly my friends; who love me no matter what I might do."
"...Ah." Angel nodded. "They know."
"It was better when they didn't," Judith said before she meant to.
"Why?"
Judith grimaced. That was personal.
A smile slid into the corner of Angel's mouth. "You liked the secret."
There was that jolt of intimate connection in her heart again. Was it his skill with psychology and body language, or did he just understand her that well? She inclined her head. "But I guess secrets are short-lived excitements anyway."
Angel nodded. "Short-lived," he repeated quietly. "Sounds an awful lot like an ending to me."
Judith frowned at him, unaccountably annoyed. "Do you want it to be?"
"No," Angel replied. "But I'm not the one throwing around terms like 'short-lived.'"
"Secrets are short-lived," Judith said emphatically. "Not...whatever this is."
Angel thought about the distinction for a moment and then said, "Oh. Sorry."
Judith let out a breath of laughter. "Honestly…"
Angel glanced once around the room before his gaze rested on her, and he looked statue-esque, yet vulnerable. "So...is that it?"
Judith folded her arms over her chest. "Not quite… There is-" She hesitated, hating that her friends made her realize that this was what she really needed to bring up. In comparison, What are we doing? seemed trivial to ask. "The thing is… Do you love me?"
Angel took a step back, like a wave had hit him and he had to regain his balance. "I…" he started awkwardly. "Like a friend, of course, but…" He gave her a look of such terrified uncertainty that felt a little sorry for him.
"It's okay, Angel," she said quickly, and he relaxed a little bit, but she didn't let up the questioning. "But if we keep doing this, do you think you will?"
"I-" Angel said again, shifting another step back. "Honestly, I have no idea. This is...so new."
"Yes," Judith agreed. "It is, and that's part of the appeal. Angel, I'm with you: I'm not in love with you and I don't know what will happen if we keep doing this and I think I could go on blissfully not caring and just waiting to see what happens," she took a long, refilling breath, "except..."
"Except?"
She hesitated. "Cordelia. She is in the future."
Angel's mouth made a soft, Oh. After a long moment of thought, he said, "You're worried that you'll fall in love and I won't. That I'll still be in love with her."
"That is the worst case scenario," Judith said.
Angel thought for another moment before he said, "Not exactly."
She gave him a questioning look.
"I could fall in love...and you won't. Then it'd be two of you I can't be with."
Judith's expression softened a bit. He was right; she'd been self-centered not to see it. They both had things at stake.
"But," Angel continued, "it's a risk I'm still willing to take."
"Why?" she asked.
He made a forward shrugging motion with his shoulders. He opened his mouth and hesitated. "I don't want to stop. It's...too good. With you. Because I know you." He added quickly, "And you yourself, of course. You're good, too. Really…good."
Judith found that she was smiling, both at his ineloquence and at his sentiment.
Angel didn't seem to know what to do with that, so he continued, "And, you know, because of that, and the fact that I've got the body of a 26-year-old and I'm a vampire…" Angel rubbed at the back of his head self-consciously, "and as you've already noted, vampires are sex symbols in literature for a reason, so when I get going like this it's just kind of hard for me to stop-and please god stop me from talking."
Judith crossed the few steps between them and kissed him, and he relaxed against her. His arms slid around her back and the kiss deepened. She could feel his relief; almost as if it was their first kiss in years, not days.
"Thanks," he said when they broke apart.
Judith smiled at him. "Feeling better?" she asked.
Angel grimaced ambivalently. "Mostly," he admitted.
Judith frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Well…" Angel shifted as their hands dropped from each other. "You haven't said- Is it worth the risk to you?"
"Oh," Judith blinked. She'd thought that was implied from the rest of their conversation, but she hadn't actually said it, had she? "Yes. Yes, it's worth the risk to me."
Saying it out loud, though, made the risk seem more frightening. She met his eyes, determined, and gave him a small smile.
"Why?" he asked her.
She had asked him and he'd answered, so it was only fair that she should answer, too. But she found with a little squirm of embarrassment that she didn't want to. "Are you going to make me say it?"
The corner of Angel's mouth twitched. "I did," he pointed out. "And made a damn fool of myself."
Judith sighed. They were supposed to give spiritually enlightened answers like, Because I love and respect you as a human being- forget the vampire part for a moment -and I know that if I act out of the purest motivations of my heart, everything will work out exactly the way it's supposed to.
Or even a selfless answer like, I want to be the best friend to you I possibly can, even if I end up getting hurt.
Not something so carnal as Because it feels really good with you. Flattering as that was.
"I have many internal defenses in place to prevent me from making a fool of myself," Judith replied delicately, crossing her arms in front of her.
"Well you wouldn't have to ramble the way I did," Angel pointed out. "Just tell me why it's worth the risk to you."
Judith shifted her weight uncomfortably. "It's just- Don't you think that we should have better reasons than 'I like it a lot with you'?"
Angel smiled a little and then shrugged. "I thought we were trying to keep it simple. What's simpler than that?"
Well that was true…
"Look, Judith, I'm kind of the champion of self-sacrifice," Angel continued. "And I probably always will be because it's who I am, but that doesn't mean I'm not aware that things get a lot clearer when you cut out the more noble motivations. It's not like we're not going to take care of each other, regardless of what happens, right? That's a given."
Judith nodded in agreement.
"So...since that's a given, I think it's okay to be a little selfish about this risk you're potentially taking." Angel shifted his weight and glanced up at the ceiling a little coyly. "And a little compliment on top of that never hurt anyone…"
Judith gave a little laugh. "Alright," she gave in. She sighed and repeated, "Alright… It's worth the risk because...I'm enjoying our time together too much to stop."
Angel smiled with one side of his mouth. "Well, it's a start. We can work on the making-a-fool-of-yourself part later."
Judith chuckled and then hesitated, teetering on the moment. Before, the signals would have urged her to step forward and lean in again with a playful response on her lips. Once the moment started, it didn't stop. Why would it? A kiss like she'd given him earlier was something couples left it at. The moment was well-started now...but it could continue later, couldn't it? Not left off per se, just...delayed.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked.
The corner of his mouth turned up. "Yeah."
Yes. Now that the mood wasn't in danger of being broken. Now that they had time beyond Right Now. Other things could safely slide in. The moment could be prolonged.
She stepped away and led him into the kitchen.