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brat_inslayageConstance had a key to the apartment, and hadn’t gotten a message telling her to knock before she showed up, so when she arrived as previously agreed she just let herself in.
“--damnedest thing, really, of all places to sell an incredibly rare artifact... eBay?” she was already sputtering as she came through the door. “God only knows if the sellers had any clue what something like that Urn is capable of, and then to have it won right out from under the Council’s nose by... Kennedy?”
Kennedy, who was curled up on the couch with Bailey in her lap, hadn’t even reacted when she heard the door open, actually; it wasn’t until she heard her name that she raised her head at all to look at her Watcher.
“Oh, good Lord,” Constance breathed, dropping the subject (not that Kennedy gave a damn about some stupid urn anyway) and crossing to the couch immediately. No surprise she looked that stunned; in the twelve years of their association she’d never caught Kennedy in such an embarrassingly abject state. “I haven’t seen you look this bad since, forgive me, the whole mess with-- what was her name again...”
“‘Nita,” Kennedy supplied quietly, dabbing at her eyes with her shirt collar. Oh, right. Except for that time, when she’d been fifteen and had her first serious crush on a girl who’d been good for a handful of dates and one night at the Ritz-Carlton on Kennedy’s dad’s dime before she decided that nope, she was straight, and this really wasn’t her thing.
“That’s right. And that memory rather pales in comparison to today.” Ordinarily, Kennedy would think it was weird to have Constance rubbing light circles against her back in a slow, comforting rhythm; for all the trust and affection between them they mostly stuck to sparring for physical interaction. “I could ask what happened, though if you’d rather not say I can hazard a guess.”
“Guess it’s kinda obvious, huh?” Kennedy asked, managing a tiny, shaky smile that fell apart about as soon as it formed.
“Fairly,” Constance replied, her familiar dry tone much gentler than normal. “I am so very sorry. Was it your decision, or...?”
Kennedy shrugged, ran a finger along Bailey’s back, and turned to look at her again. “It was mutual. Sorta? She’s kind of having a really rough time-- she said to say hi, by the way-- and it just wasn’t... now wasn’t... I mean, with the time difference and stuff... it’s sort of a break. Until everything settles down again. And when it does, maybe... you know?”
“Ah.” Constance cleared her throat, and it was a long moment before she spoke again; when she did, she spoke slowly, as if she were being very deliberate about her word choice. “I think... please don’t take this the wrong way, Kennedy, but... it may be best if you not look at things in that light.”
“Why not?” Kennedy asked, wondering if she was just that completely out of whack right now that the best way she could describe the look on Constance’s face was guilty. “You were all super thrilled I actually settled down with someone, and now this? You like her. You told me so. God, you even said she was good for me and everything, but now you want me to just let this go? Oh, god, why am I even sitting here right now? I could be out there helping her, and this wouldn’t even be a problem, and--”
She was reaching for her phone, already planning on calling Portalocity, when Constance closed a hand around her wrist.
“You are a Potential Slayer,” Constance said firmly. “You were chosen for this possible destiny in no small part because you are self-reliant, do you understand me? You never were the type to let anyone else define you, Kennedy. It would be a shame for you to start now... besides which, I’d wager that one of the things Tara loves about you is exactly that.”
Oh, low blow. But, especially in light of what Xander had told her a couple of weeks ago in Fandom-- that she would end up in Sunnydale eventually-- well played. If Kennedy, in her currently screwy mental state, had thought her Watcher looked guilty before, she looked twice as much so now. Or whatever it really was; Kennedy didn’t care much about figuring out the description. She let her hand drop back to her knee and her phone to the couch beside her, shaking her head in confusion. “I don’t get it-- what are you trying to say?”
In a thoroughly unprecedented move, Constance reached out to grasp Kennedy’s chin lightly and turn her head so she could look her in the eyes; Kennedy just couldn’t muster up the fire to protest. “I think you know what I’m trying to say,” she answered in that same overly deliberate tone.
In short, she was calling Kennedy on her (being intentionally obstinate) shit.
I never want to hold you back, Kennedy remembered Tara saying one day at the Magic Box that felt like forever ago, and again on the phone just now. She was still convinced that wasn’t true, but Constance had gone and brought the Potential-Slayage thing into it and that, in Kennedy’s current state, was more argument than she had the fight for. Besides, if Xander was right she was going to need to be on her game, and soon. Ish. There was still a chance for her to get in on the fight; that was enough reason to keep going. She swallowed, thought about pulling away to duck her head, but held Constance’s gaze. “Basically, yeah. Not so okay with it right this minute, but yeah.”
Constance smiled at her, then abruptly got up, heading toward the bathroom; Kennedy heard the linen closet door open and shut, then the brief rush of water in the sink, and then Constance was standing in front of her again, holding out a cool, damp washcloth that she accepted with silent gratitude.
“I think,” Constance said as Kennedy dabbed gingerly at her eyes, “just this once I can wait for you to come to grips with the concept.”
Kennedy chuckled weakly. “I’m a problem student like that.”
“Indeed,” Constance returned wryly, wandering over to look at Kennedy’s DVD collection; she pulled a couple of cases off the shelf and held them up so Kennedy could see. "Well, problem student, I think we can adjust your training schedule for the night."
"Cartoons, huh?" Train harder, Xander had said, and Kennedy figured that was a given, but tonight? "Yeah, sure. Works for me."
[[nfb for distance, nfi, ooc okay; just tying together a few loose threads, and follows immediately after this.]]
“--damnedest thing, really, of all places to sell an incredibly rare artifact... eBay?” she was already sputtering as she came through the door. “God only knows if the sellers had any clue what something like that Urn is capable of, and then to have it won right out from under the Council’s nose by... Kennedy?”
Kennedy, who was curled up on the couch with Bailey in her lap, hadn’t even reacted when she heard the door open, actually; it wasn’t until she heard her name that she raised her head at all to look at her Watcher.
“Oh, good Lord,” Constance breathed, dropping the subject (not that Kennedy gave a damn about some stupid urn anyway) and crossing to the couch immediately. No surprise she looked that stunned; in the twelve years of their association she’d never caught Kennedy in such an embarrassingly abject state. “I haven’t seen you look this bad since, forgive me, the whole mess with-- what was her name again...”
“‘Nita,” Kennedy supplied quietly, dabbing at her eyes with her shirt collar. Oh, right. Except for that time, when she’d been fifteen and had her first serious crush on a girl who’d been good for a handful of dates and one night at the Ritz-Carlton on Kennedy’s dad’s dime before she decided that nope, she was straight, and this really wasn’t her thing.
“That’s right. And that memory rather pales in comparison to today.” Ordinarily, Kennedy would think it was weird to have Constance rubbing light circles against her back in a slow, comforting rhythm; for all the trust and affection between them they mostly stuck to sparring for physical interaction. “I could ask what happened, though if you’d rather not say I can hazard a guess.”
“Guess it’s kinda obvious, huh?” Kennedy asked, managing a tiny, shaky smile that fell apart about as soon as it formed.
“Fairly,” Constance replied, her familiar dry tone much gentler than normal. “I am so very sorry. Was it your decision, or...?”
Kennedy shrugged, ran a finger along Bailey’s back, and turned to look at her again. “It was mutual. Sorta? She’s kind of having a really rough time-- she said to say hi, by the way-- and it just wasn’t... now wasn’t... I mean, with the time difference and stuff... it’s sort of a break. Until everything settles down again. And when it does, maybe... you know?”
“Ah.” Constance cleared her throat, and it was a long moment before she spoke again; when she did, she spoke slowly, as if she were being very deliberate about her word choice. “I think... please don’t take this the wrong way, Kennedy, but... it may be best if you not look at things in that light.”
“Why not?” Kennedy asked, wondering if she was just that completely out of whack right now that the best way she could describe the look on Constance’s face was guilty. “You were all super thrilled I actually settled down with someone, and now this? You like her. You told me so. God, you even said she was good for me and everything, but now you want me to just let this go? Oh, god, why am I even sitting here right now? I could be out there helping her, and this wouldn’t even be a problem, and--”
She was reaching for her phone, already planning on calling Portalocity, when Constance closed a hand around her wrist.
“You are a Potential Slayer,” Constance said firmly. “You were chosen for this possible destiny in no small part because you are self-reliant, do you understand me? You never were the type to let anyone else define you, Kennedy. It would be a shame for you to start now... besides which, I’d wager that one of the things Tara loves about you is exactly that.”
Oh, low blow. But, especially in light of what Xander had told her a couple of weeks ago in Fandom-- that she would end up in Sunnydale eventually-- well played. If Kennedy, in her currently screwy mental state, had thought her Watcher looked guilty before, she looked twice as much so now. Or whatever it really was; Kennedy didn’t care much about figuring out the description. She let her hand drop back to her knee and her phone to the couch beside her, shaking her head in confusion. “I don’t get it-- what are you trying to say?”
In a thoroughly unprecedented move, Constance reached out to grasp Kennedy’s chin lightly and turn her head so she could look her in the eyes; Kennedy just couldn’t muster up the fire to protest. “I think you know what I’m trying to say,” she answered in that same overly deliberate tone.
In short, she was calling Kennedy on her (being intentionally obstinate) shit.
I never want to hold you back, Kennedy remembered Tara saying one day at the Magic Box that felt like forever ago, and again on the phone just now. She was still convinced that wasn’t true, but Constance had gone and brought the Potential-Slayage thing into it and that, in Kennedy’s current state, was more argument than she had the fight for. Besides, if Xander was right she was going to need to be on her game, and soon. Ish. There was still a chance for her to get in on the fight; that was enough reason to keep going. She swallowed, thought about pulling away to duck her head, but held Constance’s gaze. “Basically, yeah. Not so okay with it right this minute, but yeah.”
Constance smiled at her, then abruptly got up, heading toward the bathroom; Kennedy heard the linen closet door open and shut, then the brief rush of water in the sink, and then Constance was standing in front of her again, holding out a cool, damp washcloth that she accepted with silent gratitude.
“I think,” Constance said as Kennedy dabbed gingerly at her eyes, “just this once I can wait for you to come to grips with the concept.”
Kennedy chuckled weakly. “I’m a problem student like that.”
“Indeed,” Constance returned wryly, wandering over to look at Kennedy’s DVD collection; she pulled a couple of cases off the shelf and held them up so Kennedy could see. "Well, problem student, I think we can adjust your training schedule for the night."
"Cartoons, huh?" Train harder, Xander had said, and Kennedy figured that was a given, but tonight? "Yeah, sure. Works for me."
[[nfb for distance, nfi, ooc okay; just tying together a few loose threads, and follows immediately after this.]]