Prophecy Girl

He does end up keeping her company at the Spring Fling.

Somehow, they've managed to snag a place to sit on the sofa under the stairs. The children dumped their bags for their adults to look after when they headed out onto the dance floor. Rupert's grateful for the reasonably comfortable seating arrangements after the night they've had.

Jenny is sat beside him with a napkin full of ice she finagled out of the bartender pressed against his cheek, more specifically the spot where Buffy's fist connected earlier this evening. He tries to tell her to stop fussing only she refuses. He feels rather pathetic considering this is the second time she's taken care of him; the first time was when she'd found him with pain relief and earplugs during that damn talent show farce.

Then earlier this evening, he'd been out for the count, head in her lap as he came round a few minutes after Buffy left to face the Master. The first thing he'd seen was her eyes - her very pretty eyes - before she'd helped him up from the floor.

He's very aware she must have more questions after the night's events. He will answer them as honestly as he can as he owes her that much. Those questions can wait until later because Rupert knows he isn't being a model patient despite what she considers is her admirable bedside manner.

She smacks his hand away as he tries to brush her off.

"Will you hold still?" Jenny grumbles. "You're going to have one hell of a bruise, Rupert."

"You really don't have to," Rupert insists before he winces as the makeshift ice pack presses against his sore jaw. He got hit by a slayer and hit the deck. Now his adrenaline is starting to wear off, and the pain in his jaw is much more prevalent than it was when he was hacking away at the Hellmouth.

"You're such a baby," Jenny gives him a begrudging smile that makes him forget about the pain for a moment. "Concussion?"

"I'd say so."

He blushes and ducks his head to hide it from her. He's fast becoming enamoured with her and the way the light shines in her eyes when she smiles at him. The spark she gets when she's exalting the virtues or computers – usually while she's shouting at him; though she hadn't shouted at him in a while. Then, there's her interest in the occult which rivals his own. That had been…quite a surprise; rousing and illuminating, in fact.

Her other hand comes to rest on the other side of his face, to hold him in place and to lift his chin a little so he has no choice but to look at her. Their eyes meet and her smile falters slightly as the gaze lingers. Her smile softens instead of disappearing. It's curious to him as she ducks her own chin slightly, almost unsure of her own actions or reaction.

Rupert swallows the lump in his throat as he lifts his hand to cover hers that is holding the ice to his jaw. Her eyes spring back to his at the contact. He gives her what he hopes is a warm, reassuring look because he doesn't want to scare her off or do anything that will hurt this fledgling camaraderie between them.

This evening the Hellmouth opened and Jenny had been right there, pulling Willow back from the monster escaping through the hole in the library floor.

So much has changed in the few months since Buffy arrived. Not just in Sunnydale, but for Rupert also. The Council needs a thorough review of their training needs for future Watchers if future Slayers are like Buffy.

They trained him to deal with a Slayer. Certainly not a teenager or the perils that went hand in hand with that phase of life. He was taught Slayers as an emotionless entity who would accept their destiny, their calling blindly. He tried to encourage Buffy the best he could because she was the one with the abilities needed to face the demons converging on the Hellmouth, but nothing in his training gave him the reasoning to explain to a sixteen-year-old girl she was pre-ordained to die and just accept it willingly.

No, he understood her reasoning on that one and couldn't, in good conscience, deny her.

But Buffy defied his expectations in other ways, too. Watchers are taught to keep their sacred duty secret. Slayers were also expected to keep their secrets.

Buffy, however, has friends who readily accepted her calling and wanted to pitch in where they could because they refused to let her face it alone. Willow and Xander had proven their loyalty several times over before tonight. Rupert found their help admirable and often essential. They had their own skills that he nor Buffy held.

Their presence, involvement and discretion over the last few months gave Rupert the confidence to confess to Jenny.

Jenny had been right to call him out for being obstinate; she deserved trust and honesty because he'd asked her to contact her resources without so much as an explanation. He decided to take a chance, one which went against all of his training, went against reason. He told her the truth and she accepted it.

Her hand slips from beneath his and he's left holding the ice to his jaw. Her other hand stays in place for a moment before dropping to her lap. She meets his gaze once again almost shyly. "You still owe me a dance."

His lips quirk at that as he huffs. He surprises them both by not turning her down. "I think I could be persuaded as long as it's not to this," Rupert replies nodding in the direction of the nearest speaker.

"Let's hope they play a song more our speed soon 'cause my feet are killing me," Jenny tells him. "You know, I was supposed to go home and change but now I'm here checking my ankles for slime and gunk."

Rupert glances at her ankles, peeking out under the hem of her dress. He quite likes her outfit but thinks it's wise not to bring attention to his appreciation. "I think your ankles are slime-free."

"That's something, at least," she muses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "So, is this a regular night for you guys or what?"

"Um, no, actually. This was quite extreme," he finds himself responding. Rupert goes to lower the ice pack from his cheek but stops when she notices, cocking her head to the side. He just adjusts it against his face. She nods her approval.

Rupert marvels at her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her face. The amount of trust she placed in him this evening was finally beginning to resonate. He'd told her the truth and she accepted it readily. Rather than running as any sane person might, she stayed to help. She was resilient and adaptable. He's beginning to appreciate that she doesn't have a rigid view of the world; it's unblinkered yet isn't resigned to the events that impact their lives.

They averted a prophecy this evening. Or perhaps thwarted one.

Now the slight concussion and the rush of the battle were slowly lifting, and he was facing the headying after-effect.

"Beginning to catch up to the rest of us there, England?" Jenny asks.

"I believe so," he replies.

Jenny gives him a warm smile as the lights dip and a slower song begins to play. At that moment, Xander and Willow return from the dance floor as Angel takes Buffy in his arms and they start to move together.

"Hi guys," Jenny greets them while her hand takes his free one.

"Hi," Willow chirps happily as Xander mumbles what Rupert assumes is a hello as he stares longingly at Buffy and Angel.

"You guys sticking around while I drag Mr. Giles onto the dancefloor?" Jenny stands, pulling Rupert along with her.

Willow's eyes widen as she smiles and nods encouragingly, accepting the makeshift ice pack from Rupert as he passes.

Jenny leads him to a far corner before facing him expectantly. He takes her into his arms, holding her hand to his chest as they begin to sway to the music. Her other hand comes to rest on his shoulder. She fits quite nicely against him, looking up into his face. He can't help but stare back as everything around them fades away. He doesn't listen to the song, he has no idea what it is or what the lyrics are. His eyes fall to her lips wondering, just wondering, what it'd be like to close the distance.

Jenny lifts her chin slightly, her fingers snaking to graze the collar of his shirt. Rupert dips his head closer.

"Guess we'll have to spend the night together, huh?" She breathes out the question suddenly.

"What?" Rupert squeaks, blinking at her. Usually, he'd suspect she was suggesting such a thing to rattle him, covering her deflection by flirting with him. But there's a vulnerability in her expression, laying herself open to rejection as if that were ever an option for him.

"Someone's got to keep you awake, with a concussion and all," Jenny informs him breathily, her eyes dropping to his lips. "If you want some company," she tacks on.

"I'd like that."