Hey England,

Jenny starts. Her pen pauses as she considers the familiar moniker she used to call him and whether it's too soon to use it, at least before they've heard each other's voice. The last letter he wrote was sent before Buffy turned up and he'll receive her letter probably after Buffy tells him they've seen each other.

I'm deviating from our rules, at least for this letter. We've got to talk, sort of, or clear the air at least.

I'm telling you I'm sorry in advance because I'm writing as I go through the events of the last couple of days in my head, so I might get emotional because I need to get it out.

By now, you probably know Buffy and I literally ran into each other on campus. It was a shock, but the good kind, you know?

We talked. We shared take-out.

"I expected there to be more vampire activity," Buffy moans as she digs into her carton of chow mein.

"I can see that," Jenny tells Buffy, scooping up kung pao chicken with chopsticks while watching Dawn as she tries and fails to get her special fried rice into her mouth with her own set.

Carton in hand, Jenny rises from the couch and goes to the kitchen to grab a fork for the teenager. Dawn glares at it when Jenny offers it to her. "You'll go hungry at this rate," Jenny prompts her.

"Sorry Miss Calendar, stubbornness runs in the family," Buffy says fondly at her sister, earning herself a glare. "It outweighs the need to eat."

Dawn reluctantly takes the fork, taking a bite. "This is so much better than the takeaway in Sunnydale."

Another point to New York for the younger Summers sister.

It's her big sister's turn to glare at the back of her head. Jenny doesn't blame Buffy; they lost their mom. Grieving their mother, it's understandable Buffy doesn't want her sister moving thousands of miles away. Jenny can see the toll this responsibility is taking on her. She already has a lot of responsibility but to suddenly become the primary caregiver for a teenager is more than what should be expected of her. And impossible to do if she's stuck in Sunnydale because of her other responsibilities.

Jenny silently curses their dad for putting this all on Buffy. Even if she wasn't the slayer, he should be stepping up.

"Do you have any theories on the lack of vamps? You've been here for four years," Buffy asks.

Jenny stirs her chopsticks through her meal, contemplating the question. "I was running away from vampires, I didn't really want to go looking for them."

"I get that," Buffy says with understanding. "When we got him back, Angel was so relieved he never found you that night. He, we, appreciate the risk you took even when you said it couldn't be done."

Jenny swallows the lump in her throat, remembering the plague of nightmares she suffered where that night ended a lot differently. "I wanted to make everything right, I had to try."

We talked. It's been so long since I spoke with someone who knew me, my past, it was a relief. Difficult. Strange.

Buffy and I left almost as much unsaid as you and I did. She's grown up. Where's the seventeen-year-old I remember?

I spent the last four years wondering what happened in the aftermath of that night and now I know it worked. Neither of us mentioned the weeks leading up to that night, I don't think either of us knows what to say about that. The curse worked and put everything else into perspective.

And what the hell were you thinking?! Going to the warehouse like you did? If Buffy hadn't hit you then, I would if we're ever face to face again. I still might, I don't know.

I know we said to start off easy, but finding that out…

God, Rupert…Do you know what that would do to me?

It's one thing to know you're somewhere else in the world, you're alive and I can handle being apart because of that simple fact. But your death? Part of me would die with you.

I wish I didn't feel this way about you. I wish I didn't miss you the way that I do. You're the only person to ever make me feel the way you do. That's not changed in the four years we've been apart or because of how we ended things. I doubt it ever will.

So, please, stop doing stupid shit that will get you killed.

I don't think that's an unreasonable request considering you sent me away for the same reason.

"So, what classes are you thinking about for next year?" Jenny asks, feeling so old for asking but she has murky memories of Dawn and doesn't know what else to ask.

"I'm torn between history and English lit," Dawn tells her.

"I could set up a meeting with my friend, she runs the English Lit program," Jenny offers. "She'll be more than happy to answer any questions to help you make up your mind. Even if you don't end up here in New York, she'll talk your ear off about the subject."

"That would be amazing," Dawn beams at her before going back to lining up the fortune cookies and playing a game of eenie-meenie-minie-mo. She doesn't pick up the one she lands on. Instead, she looks up at Jenny innocently.

Jenny laughs and throws her a curveball, "How about we choose each other's cookie?"

Dawn looks at her like she's grown another head, making Jenny laugh harder. "Doesn't that kind of take our fate out of our own hands?"

"I think we can handle it, it's not like any of us have any say in it as it is," Jenny replies, swallowing as realises what she said. "Wrong room."

"It's not like any of us can deny it," Buffy waves her off. "This sounds like it could be fun, but if we uncover any prophesies, I'm calling in the other Scoobies."

"Fair enough," Jenny concedes. "Who do you want to pick for Dawn?"

"Buffy," Dawn answers quickly, cocking an eyebrow at her sister. Her hand floats over the three fortune cookies before she makes a big show of choosing just the right one.

Buffy rolls her eyes as Dawn hands it over. She opens the packaging, cracking the cookie to read the folded slip of paper. "Nobody can be exactly like you." Buffy curls up her lips. "There's always a loophole to the 'there can only be one' gigs."

Buffy shakes it off contemplative tone. "Alright Miss Calendar, you pick for Dawn."

Dawn looks at the two remaining cookies. One of them she chose for herself before they decided to choose each others' fortune, one she didn't. Jenny takes pity on her and plucks up the one she won with her game. Dawn's almost giddy when she rips through the packet.

"Nothing is a waste of time if you learn from it," she reads out. "School related? Seriously?"

"Sorry, Dawn," Buffy commiserates. She leans over to hand Jenny the last cookie. "This one's yours."

"Considering I'm last, I'd say we all had a hand in choosing my fate," Jenny quips as she presses her thumb to the cookie through the wrapper to snap it. She opens it neatly, pulling the slip free from the crumbs. "We must have old memories and young hopes."

Well, isn't that a kicker?

Jenny is fully aware of the look Buffy has directed at her.

Buffy thinks we should talk face-to-face. Or over the phone. She thinks the delay in posting letters negates the context.

They put on a film, partly for Dawn, partly to fill the silence. Jenny doesn't know what else to say to Buffy and she gets the feeling it's mutual. Despite that, Jenny doesn't regret calling Buffy and blurting out an invitation to her place a couple of hours after they met in her classroom. They needed to break the ice and her apartment gave them privacy to speak freely.

"I could set up a call, if you want," Buffy offers as the opening credits roll.

Jenny ponders it before she shakes her head. "You don't need to get involved."

"I'm kind of already involved," Buffy reminds her.

Jenny winces. "I appreciate the offer, I don't want you to feel obligated."

Jenny also suspects her offer stems from misguided, self-inflicted guilt for whatever happened after Jenny left Sunnydale and Jenny doesn't want that because Buffy's anger had been justified at the time. And this is not about Buffy.

Whatever happens between her and Rupert going forward should be between her and Rupert and on their terms.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I could call Willow right now and she could hook up her laptop, you could hook up your laptop and-"

"We're not ready for that yet." The words come out in a rush and forceful in a way Jenny doesn't intend them to. "It's too soon," she adds with a softer tone when Buffy goes wide-eyed and stunned.

Is it too soon? Four years is a long time but this? This feels too new, too fragile, you know?

On the one hand, we could get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. Or we could leave it a couple of months until we're like that couple in You've Got Mail…Willow will explain the reference…Only we already know each other and have seen each other naked so it's not the same.

It might be simpler, leave less room for interpretation, you know. We're writing these letters and attributing what we know about each other to them. Is it weird that I hear your voice in my head when I read them?

Coherent thought sort of goes out the window when it comes to you. I'm scared we'll rush back into what we had and forget what happened without dealing with it if we see each other too soon. Tell me if you think that's stupid.

It's presumptuous, at least. Or maybe not, Buffy said...no, I'm not bringing the kids into this.

You said you wanted to get to know me as we are now.

What does that mean? I have no idea what that means.

Look, if you want to prove me wrong about talking, I'll write my number at the bottom of the page.

Yours,

Jenny

"Prove me wrong, Rupert."