They head across the parking lot away from the flashing red and blue lights and Snyder. Jenny pulls Rupert's jacket closed as they near their cars. Leaving one arm wrapped around his, she taps her pockets to find them empty.
"Shoot," she grumbles as she realises her bag is locked in the filing cabinet in her classroom. Her house and car keys are inside her bag.
"What's wrong?" Rupert asks, pausing.
"My keys, they're in the school," Jenny explains pulling a face at the building.
"Ah," Rupert says, following her scowl. There's a pause. "Well, there's three options."
She quirks an eyebrow at him, she can only see one. "Which are?"
"One, we go back in the building, and get your keys before walking back across the car park to say goodnight."
"Number two?" She prompts, curious as to what he's thinking because it's usually interesting. Her curiosity is piqued when he blushes.
"Second, depending on your locks, I could drive you home and try getting in without keys," he suggests.
Her other eyebrow rises to join its twin. "You know how to pick locks?
"It's been a while so I might be a bit rusty," he winces.
"This is a story I wanna hear, England." Rupert isn't the type to boast or fabricate stories about his past; if he says he can pick locks, he can pick locks. Jenny just wants to know the story because it doesn't entirely track with the impression she has of him.
"Perhaps after we discuss our other option," he hastily agrees, erring on the side of caution. She shrugs.
"Well, let's put a pin in number two for now. I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable with breaking and entering, even into my own place. I don't want to know how easy it is." Jenny cocks her head to the side. "But you've got my attention, what's your third idea?"
"You could spend the night at mine and I drive you back in the morning," Rupert suggests. There's a loaded pause as the implication sinks in and propriety takes over despite his recent omission. "What I mean is, you can take the bed and I can take the couch. I don't mean to be forward or suggest anything untoward…"
"Relax, Rupert," Jenny cuts him off. "We're adults, we can deal with this."
She sighs and looks across the lot and the police cars parked out front of the school. She doesn't really want to traipse all the way over there and explain to a bunch of cops why they have to go back into the school while they're securing it. It doesn't matter what they're doing, they won't find Spike or the army he brought with him. If by some miracle it does, the police don't have the tools to deal with the vampires who held the school hostage tonight.
"Sleepover it is," she decides. "Besides, I really want to hear about your lock-picking experience. Door or cuffs?"
"Um," he clears his throat, ducking his head. "Both," he flushes.
"Tell me more," Jenny laughs with disbelief as Rupert opens the passenger door for her.
"Is there any chance I can forfeit telling you this story this evening?"
"Not a chance," she quips, sliding into the seat. She pulls his jacket tighter around herself as she watches him pass in front of his car to the driver's seat.
Once situated, Rupert puts the car in gear and starts navigating out of the parking lot and around the emergency vehicles that are clogging up the area following the night's events. They're quiet until they reach the clearer streets when Rupert speaks.
"Buffy's first watcher died," he tells her while keeping his eyes on the street.
"He did?" Jenny watches him, wondering what's made him change the topic from her teasing. It wasn't her imagination; he'd been a willing participant when she was flirting with him outside of the school. They were about to have a sleepover. She's at a loss as to why he's brought up this, now.
"He died before she came to Sunnydale," Rupert continues. He glances in her direction as he flips the indicator to turn right. "I'm doing an awful job of explaining my point."
"You're taking your time to get to it," Jenny agrees. "What's brought this on, Rupert?"
"Earlier this evening, you tried to stop me from going to help Buffy," he explains. He pulls the car into his space in front of his building. "I guess I am trying to point out that there will be times when I have to help Buffy, times when I will have to go into the hallway, as it were."
"You could have died," she frowns. Rupert oversees Buffy's training yet he doesn't have her strength, speed or skills. Jenny was certain he would have died if he tried to take on the vampires in the hall. The research they'd done about the night of Saint Vigeous didn't help, and neither did Angel's cryptic warning about Spike. "I'm glad Buffy dropped through the ceiling when she did, then."
"I think this evening illustrated how dangerous all of this is and you'd be far safer-."
"Oh, cut it out, Rupert," she groans. She remains calm as she voices her reasoning. "One, those vampires were non-discriminatory with their victims tonight; your argument is moot because there's nothing safe in this life. Actually, I'd argue we're safer together because we're both aware of the risks. Two, there is never going to be a time I will let you go into a hallway full of vampires and be okay with it. I'm not okay with Buffy doing it, she might be the slayer but she's also a sixteen-year-old kid who hasn't had the chance to live her life."
"Still, she and I have a calling and this evening's events are just part of it."
"Rupert, don't brush off people who care about you. What happens to you, matters. Don't diminish it or think you won't be missed just because it's expected as part of your calling."
As the words leave her mouth, she can hear how forceful she's being and she's projecting her own insecurities she can't reveal. But she is telling the truth. Rupert would be missed if he died. By Buffy, by Willow, by Xander. By her.
Rupert kills the engine and sets a fond expression on her. "It's a complicated reconciliation for me to consider," he concedes gently. "My training as Watcher indoctrinated this part of our life, but I understand your point. The parameters and expectations don't allow for individual emotions or feelings. They certainly don't allow for societal changes."
"Your manuals are outdated," Jenny points out. "Think about a Watcher reading your diaries a hundred years from now. What is their slayer going to be like? What would you want to know before you took on Buffy?"
She doesn't ask him how he'll feel if he loses Buffy. She knows that answer even if she doesn't think he knows that himself.
"You have a fair point, Jenny, but that doesn't mean I am comfortable with letting Buffy fight alone, especially on a night like tonight."
"And Buffy had another plan," Jenny counters kindly, bringing their discussion to a close. "We can talk this to death another time. I believe this is a fourth date type of conversation anyway, we're only on our third date."
There's a pause as he processes her words. "Did you say third date?"
And they were back to their familiar schtick.
Fine by her. She's fairly certain they're past his stammering now that he's aware their attraction is mutual.
"Yeah, this is our third date," she argues as they both reach for their respective door handles to get out of his car.
"I'd say second at best," Rupert argues without missing a beat. He walks around to the curb as he locks the car up. Sunnydale might be vampire-central, but other crimes are few and far between. "How do you figure the third date?"
"You wanna do the math?" Jenny asks as he offers her his arm again. Her hands wind around his bicep as he walks her to his apartment.
Rupert smiles as he glances at her. "Indulge me, because my math is coming up with a different answer."
Now, he decides to be cute?! Jenny rolls her eyes.
"Okay," she humours him because, really, she veered their topic away from the fact that she may have to deal with his death if he and Buffy get caught in a fight they couldn't win. Tonight could've been that fight. She would have missed him a lot more than she should for people who have been on only three dates. "Date number one, we were dancing at the Spring Fling after fighting off that thing that lives under the library."
He clears his throat, ready to counter, yet she doesn't let him.
"We went to a football game for our second date and helped rescue Cordelia from becoming Frankenstein's bride. Leading us tonight and date number three, fighting vampires who sieged the school before having an adult sleepover."
"Ah, I'm not sure they constitute dates," he says despite beaming at her.
"I might grant you the Spring Fling is a bit sketchy as we never made actual plans to attend," she continues. She's looking up at him, as his fond expression softens. "We seem to have a theme going."
"So, our third date, you say?" He says instead of arguing with her again.
They come to a small set of stairs and she keeps pace with Rupert as he walks down them to a door. They stop as he puts the key in the lock and turns, swinging the door open to reveal a dimly lit hallway. He pauses for half a second before gesturing for her to enter first.
Jenny steps over the threshold, her eyes adjusting to the muted lighting Rupert must have on a timer for his late nights. She eyes the aged, dark furniture and glass lamps. She makes note of the floor-to-ceiling shelves heaving with books. There's a trunk tucked in the corner. She spies the tiled stairs, which presumably lead to his bedroom. It suits him, she decides a moment later. "Nice place."
"Thank you," he smiles. He gestures at the kitchen nook. "Are you hungry? I can make us something to eat and drink," Rupert offers as he locks the door behind them.
"I'm kind of tired," Jenny admits.
Their eyes hold as he nods slowly before holding out his hand to her. Rupert's hand holds hers, reassuringly yet easy for her to pull away, as he leads her upstairs to his room. She stands by his bed, shrugging his jacket off of her shoulders while he fusses in his drawer for a shirt she won't need tonight.
He presents the garment to her, which she places on the end of the bed. The air around them grows thick, heady almost, as she steps into his personal space. She feels odd as her hands start undoing his tie. Jenny watches Rupert's Adam's apple bob as he swallows, yet he doesn't question or stop her.
"I don't want to sleep alone and that couch will do worse for your back than anything that could have happened tonight," she informs him. She slides the piece of fabric out from under his collar.
Before she can start on his shirt, he cups her face. The look he gives conveys everything he needs it to; searching, concern, hope. He must find the answers he's looking for as he kisses ever so softly.
One kiss leads to two and more. Minutes tick by, and she finds herself lifted onto his bed, her skirt around her hips as she claws at his belt buckle. She growls in frustration at the layers of fabric between them.
"Protection?" Jenny murmurs between kisses.
"Bedside table," Rupert tells her between peppering kisses down her throat. He lifts off her for a moment to reach into the drawer.
Jenny sits up to peer over his shoulder, smiling at what she sees. "When you mentioned picking locks, I was thinking doors not cuffs," she teases placing a lingering kiss behind his ear.
"Perhaps I can be persuaded to show you another night."
"Promises, promises, England."
888
"Do you hear that?" Cordelia asks, gripping the sleeve of Willow's dress.
The redhead shakes off the last vestiges of sleep as she digests Cordelia's words. She first registers that her whole body aches from being sat on an industrial-sized tub of cleaning product the school buys in bulk. Her head, still fuzzy from the uncomfortable night spent in the closet with the popular girl praying to whichever God will listen. She leans forward on her perch to listen for what Cordelia's heard. They heard way too many sounds during the night and only managed to drift off into a restless nap when they saw the sun peeking in through the tiny window near the ceiling.
"I don't hear anything," Willow says after a moment only for Cordelia to ssh her.
"Listen!"
Willow leans towards Cordelia, thinking it might be easier to hear where she's sitting. Cordelia's hand slips into hers and squeezes tight as Willow hears the faint sounds of talking in the hall. Surely all of the vampires are gone now the sun is up. There's no real protection from the sun except the boiler room in the basement. She prays they're not huddled in the basement.
The talking gets louder as it draws nearer and Willow can't help rising from her perch. Cordelia's hold on her hand tightens, pulling back as she realises that Willow is getting closer to the door. Willow shakes her head and puts an ear to the door.
"My keys are in my bag, which is in your office," the voice says, passing the door.
"Miss Calendar," Willow says in relief. Immediately, Cordelia is with her at the door, pounding on it.
"Miss Calendar!" The holler in chorus.
"What is that?" Comes the response from the hall. "Willow?"
The girls shout in relief and start hammering on the door. "Miss Calendar! We're in here!"
The handle jiggles yet the door doesn't budge. Willow remembers they turned the lock inside and flipped it open. More jiggling and it still doesn't move. "It's stuck," Willow shouts.
"Fabulous!" Cordelia shrieks, throwing her hands up in the air as she stomps in the confined space.
"Stand back from the door," comes Giles's voice.
Cordelia stops pacing and shares a look with Willow. "Giles is here, too?"
She checks her watch and raises her eyebrows. She shrugs.
"Are you away from the door?" Miss Calendar calls.
Cordelia grabs Willow's arm and pulls hard. "We're out of the way, get us out of here!"
There's a short pause before the door flings open when Giles's foot connects in the right spot. He looks a little flustered by the exertion. Willow's never been happier to see their librarian and computer science teacher. A feeling shared by Cordelia as they both fling themselves at Giles to hug him in relief.
"Thank you!"
"Took you long enough!" Cordelia complains as she pulls back to straighten the creased outfit that she'd worn to parent-teacher night.
"You've been in here all night?" Giles asks, looking relieved when they let him go.
"All night," Willow groans and receives a side-eyed glare from Cordelia in response.
"I'll drop you guys home on my way, I just have to get my bag from the library," Miss Calendar offers as they start in that direction.
"Miss Calendar?"
"Cordelia?"
"Isn't that the outfit you were wearing last night?"
Miss Calendar glances down at herself. Willow gives her teacher a once-over and realises Cordelia is right. Miss Calendar exchanged a quick look with Giles who was going the strangest shade of pink.
"Cordelia," Miss Calendar starts with a sigh, as though she was trying to control her patience.
"You know, I can give Willow a lift home," the popular girl offers suddenly, tugging on Willow's arm. Willow frowns at her yet Cordelia's grip tightens as she practically drags her out of the building.
When they exit into the quadrant, Cordelia finally lets her go.
"What was that for?"
"Did you really want to drive home with Miss Calendar after she and Giles just did the walk of shame?"
"Huh?" Willow looks between doors they've just exited and the girl she's spent the night locked in the cleaning cupboard with. Oh. Oh. "Oh!"