The faculty room is packed. With all the seats taken, Jenny is forced to lean against the windowsill at the back of the room as the Dean holds the attention of the room. He's going on about faculty attendance of school events, or lack thereof… "We're a team, we should be supporting other departments."
He's not as friendly as Flutie, yet he's not as harsh as Snyder.
Laura ducks in quietly, making her way toward the windows as there's no other space. Jenny shuffles along to make room for her. "What did I miss?"
"Not much, we're expected to show our faces at school events, you know the drill," Jenny whispers.
"Hmm," Laura sighs. They listen to the Dean whittle on about school spirit for another minute. "Check your mail recently?"
Staring straight ahead – she should appear to be listening – Jenny cocks her head to the side. "You're not subtle."
"I don't have time for subtle."
Jenny bites her lip and shakes her head. They don't say anything else as the Dean winds up the meeting by reminding them of the campus tours open next week for prospective students. Other members of the faculty start filtering out after him, relieved to be released from their duty for the day.
"You were late," Jenny comments.
"My last class ran over, they're terribly enthusiastic," Laura grumbles good-naturedly. The younger woman smiles. "And don't distract me, you never answered my question," she accuses lightly.
Jenny rolls her eyes despite answering, "Not yet."
It's been a long ten days since she put the letter in at the post office. What if it got lost? Or his response was lost?
She doubts Rupert would leave her hanging if she responded. They're gluttons for punishment, self-imposed or not.
So much so, that she'd repaid Laura for her recent kindness by joining her at faculty mixer a few nights before. She'd needed a distraction from her ever-increasing frustration at the random fliers that ended up in her pigeonhole instead of international letters. Between listening to one of the history professors recount the London plague – really, not the right kind of topic for drinks and, besides, Rupert's version of the plague was far more interesting when he told her about it, maybe it was his voice – and dodging the guy who taught chemistry who kept asking about her plans for Friday night, she actually had fun with Laura and her colleagues.
Laura teased her mercilessly though she didn't push Jenny for details. After closing herself off for so long, it was nice to have someone to talk to.
"You know, I'm starting to think your Englishman is dragging his feet," Laura grouses.
Jenny's heart thrums in her chest, her Englishman. It's been a while since he's been hers. She tampers down on the feeling because they've sent one letter each to the other in years and she doesn't want to get ahead of herself. She's still fairly convinced Laura believes there will be a happy ever after here.
She's waiting but it's not hit the timeframe she has in her head. Jenny figures four days travel minimum per letter, a day or two to compose a letter. If she doesn't receive Rupert's letter by day fourteen, she'll start really worrying. Laura isn't as patient.
"I'm tempted to set you up with Carl," the lit professor says absently, catching Jenny's attention.
"Who?"
"The chemistry lecturer who was tripping himself up over you."
Oh. No. That isn't going to happen.
Jenny shoulders her bag and heads over to her pigeonhole for one last check before she leaves for the weekend. She thumbs through the leaflets, separating the non-relevant ones from her mail to go in the bin. From the envelopes in her hand, she tries to hide her surprise when she notices the air mail stamp. She breathes in deeply as she tucks it into her bag.
Turning, she finds Laura watching her closely. She blushes lightly, rolling her eyes as she averts her gaze.
"This is a good look for you," is all the older woman tells her an approving nod.
Jenny picks at her noodles with chopsticks as she works through her marking. She makes notes on a sticky note for the student in question, where they need extra support and what sources would be useful. She works through the assignments one by one. She's determined to finish the last two tonight. It's near the start of term, so the assignments are really for her to find out what her new students can do and what she can do to guide them.
She finishes her noodles as she opens the next assignments. These are the easiest to mark, near-perfect scores with just a few tweaks. Setting aside her bowl, she closes down the laptop pushes away from her desk to clear up her work and puts everything away for the weekend.
Her dish goes in the sink and she grabs herself a glass of wine from the open bottle of red in her fridge. She lets it come up to room temperature on her coffee table. Grabbing the hair tie, she pulls her hair into a ponytail, she'd let it grow after she left Sunnydale. Sitting cross-legged on her sofa, Jenny pulls her blanket around her to keep the chill from the evening at bay. Her bag is next to her, Rupert's letter inside.
Dear Jenny,
I understand your hesitation. We can take this one letter at a time. If you decide to stop, I promise to respect that.
As for returning to England, that would a be story which would probably be better told in person than by letter. Please don't misunderstand me, I'm not asking to meet. Maybe after…once we…I'd like to see you in person again one day when we are ready.
I've never been to New York, although I'd love to visit the Natural History Museum and Central Park. I know that seems rather predictable. Tell me about the city you live in.
Jenny smiles as she reaches for her wine. He hasn't changed; she finds it reassuring that he still prefers writing on paper to computers, museums to anything else.
My current phase of life sounds as eventful as yours. It's quiet and simple. I miss the children, their chatter, even their teasing. Willow's visit isn't under the best circumstances, so it's not the same. Some days are better than others.
Apologies if I don't reply straight away. Willow and I will be away for two weeks at a Wiccan retreat in Dorset. If you write, I'll answer when we return.
Yours,
Rupert
Jenny frowns. He sounds so contemplative, and sad. She's quite aware that they're being polite and respectful. He's right, though. There are some things they can't discuss by letter or in-depth, there was so much left unsaid before she left Sunnydale let alone the years that passed since. She yearns for the time when he confided in her, for when she could help him temper the kids' enthusiasm.
When he first confessed about his connection with Buffy and Sunnydale, everything kind of fell into place for her. She'd been so confused by the kids' penchant for hanging around the library, the whispered bickering between the teenagers and librarian when they met during the scanning project. She assumed Buffy and Xander were there for Willow yet in the following days, she noticed they spent almost as much time with Rupert as their best friend.
The night Buffy killed the Master and they survived the Hellmouth, she'd stuck to him. They'd drunk what passed as alcohol for the Bronze, and got dragged up onto the dancefloor by the kids, before talking the night away on the couch under the stairs when her shoes began to hurt her feet. He kept an eye on Buffy, a few creases gracing his forehead a couple of times, but he was less anxious than he'd been in the days preceding.
She realised the magnitude of the burden he shouldered; one Buffy was barely beginning to comprehend herself. She would regularly face nights like that night and he had to prepare her for them while giving the young girl latitude to blow off steam, hang out with her friends, and let her be sixteen. But he never allowed that for himself.
Jenny recognised that side of him; the dedication, the loyalty. It was a huge responsibility he shared with Buffy; she had her friends her age to divulge to. Who did Rupert have?
That kind of thing took its toll on someone. The was only so much one person could prepare for and be expected to keep their composure. Jenny understood that.
Duty and allegiance were drummed into her by her family since she could walk. She rebelled as a teenager despite wanting their approval so she branched out from their teachings, learning about the wider world and the easiest way for her to do that was on the net. The elders hated her, whispers and gossip circulated, so she figured they considered her a lost cause.
To say it was a surprise when they chose her to observe Angel, was an understatement. She laughed in Enyos's face for nearly five minutes when he told her. Then she remembered he'd never cracked a joke in her life, and if he had, it wouldn't be about Angel. By that time, she'd tasted a small amount of freedom through computers and she wasn't ready to give it up.
Jenny arrived in Sunnydale, pissed off at the sudden upheaval of her life. She got used to their demands and resigned herself to doing what they asked; it hurt less than the guilt they plied her with if she did something they didn't approve of.
She tried to prepare herself for everything she thought could happen. Upon arriving, it became clear there were things, she couldn't prepare for. Like falling in love with Rupert Giles.