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[ripher]

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USERNAME: GILES

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[begot]

[ She'd laugh, if she could sense the shape of his thoughts. The picture drawn, there, of her thoughts whirling at a million miles per hour. There's never been a time when she wasn't like this, when the delicate and interlocking mechanisms of her mind weren't in motion. A watch, constantly ticking, appearing guileless when the gears are covered by a pretty face. But that restlessness can be soothed — by the careful, tender touch of his hands, by the way she can feel his smile press against her lips.

And she does laugh, at the returned question, happy to be asked, happy to have and be had. ]

I like "girlfriend."

[ In the circle of his arms, she shifts, making herself a little smaller as if that might mean the distance between them might shrink even further. ]

Well — I like it, coming from you. But I'm open to suggestions, now or later.

[ripher]

[ He could probably stay there forever. Amy in his arms, tucked close in to his chest in a way that makes him feel strong and protective, base animal feelings he can't deny -- male feelings, though he might think himself above them. They can't stay, of course, but Giles lets himself enjoy it, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head as he strokes a broad hand over her shoulders.

Now or later. As if they have all the time in the world. Maybe they do. ]

I.. [ A brief pause, considering it. A voice that sounds like Jenny's in the back of his mind. Dark eyes, narrowed in fond amusement. Deep, grateful sadness. No regrets, Rupert. He studies the wallpaper over her head, thumb stroking an arc, back and forth. Working up the nerve to say what feels right, what feels necessary.

No regrets. Nothing left behind unsaid. ]

I love you, Amy.

[begot]

[ The words wash over her like the first rays of dawn, the beginning of high tide under the pink-blue light of morning.

I love you. Precious and warm and perfect, a shiny pearl in the hollow of an inky oyster. It fills her chest, raises her up onto the balls of her feet as she blinks at him, like confirmation of what he's just said is something she could find by looking for it. It doesn't always feel this way. Spoken at the wrong time, by the wrong person, in the wrong way, it's anathema, but here, now, with him— ]

Rupert.

[ The words come late, but the set of her expression gives at least the tenor of it away — her gaze liquid and soft, her lips parted, her very breath suspended in time. She wants to remember this: the feeling of his arms around her, the faint drum of his heart under her palm, the way he looks at her like— well, like he loves her. Too much for her not to feel a little drunk on as she breaks into a true smile, her hand finding his cheek. ]

I love you, too.

[ Another kiss — a seal pressed to a letter, lifting from the wax with a laugh. ]

I'm— I feel dizzy, I'm so happy. [ She pauses, a little sheepish, but not enough so not to ask: ] Say it again? Please?