triangularity | for Stefan

for Stefan

Maggie spends the first part of the evening on her laptop, liveblogging in one chat window and using the other half of the screen to monitor threads on her section of the After the End Times forum. Maggie's good with people. She never minds a turn on forum duty, and as a beta on the site, she pays her dues just like everyone else who isn't a department head. It's a refreshing change, actually, to have an entirely merit-based system where her last name doesn't mean a thing.

As the first movie winds down, Maggie sets aside the computer, standing up and stretching. She did look around enough to take stock of the room. Almost everyone here is a regular. She knows all of their food and drink preferences, and she fully expects a couple to stay for half the week.

So of course it's the newcomer who caught her attention. He seemed amused by the movie, and she agreed with him on this one. Funny how a horror movies aren't scary at all when the world has turned into one.

Whoever invited him probably pointed her out to Stefan. Maggie got his name from the security scans at the door, but she isn't especially worried about strangers in her house either way. She tosses the remote to another Fictional, letting him take over and set up the next movie.

Stefan's the only one who needs to tell her what he wants, which makes him the logical choice for help fetching it. Maggie makes her way across the room, leans over one arm of the couch, and and introduces herself, probably unnecessarily. "I'm Maggie. Help me carry snacks from the kitchen?"

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A dirty limerick, huh? Any other time, he would've risen to the challenge - but in this setting, he would risk other people overhearing them.

After a moment of deliberation, he sets his utensils down and recites, “Most conflicts and tensions arise from language.
Don't pay so much attention to the words.
In love’s country, language doesn't have its place.
Love's mute."

Maybe his friends were rubbing off on him, because a few years ago, he wouldn't have even considered Shams.

Feel free to save a dirty limerick for later and surprise her with it at the most opportune moment, Stefan.

Maggie sighs happily, any lingering tension sliding out of her jaw and her shoulders. It's blatantly obvious how much better she feels firmly back in her own element rather than her parents'. Smiling, she replies, "And what if I love words, Stefan? I spend my life working with them because I believe in how powerful they are. There are people I'll love on an even footing with them, or maybe more, but words will always have been my first love."

That being said, she probably ought to express some gratitude for the ones he chose to share. He gets a soft, sincere, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leans forward, as if he's about to share some big secret, "I care about words too, you know. So did Shams. It's more... reminding us that sometimes, words hide people's true intentions. Words have too much power."

Or so personal experience had taught him time and time again, particularly when it came to the power of love. He laughs. "Not that these scientists would know. Shame that they're not taught how to articulate things that well."

She smiles warmly, resting her chin on one hand. She likes Stefan very much already, and more so the more they talk. "Georgia always says that the truth is more powerful than any lie. But then, she is a Newsie." Maggie loves her boss. She thinks the whole staff of After the End Times does.

"Words sometimes don't seem to be enough when I feel things deeply, but saying so feels like a betrayal. Perhaps the right ones are waiting patiently for me to find them. In the meantime I keep writing them down, even if what I come up with is just barely askew."

"You'll find them eventually." That, Stefan believes in just as much as anything else in this world. He's seen more than his fair share at this point in time. True, it's getting harder and harder to falsify his life.

But it's worth it, if only to see the look on her face. He's almost memorizing it as he smiles back at her.

"If not... act upon those words. The other person should get what you mean."

Maggie is quiet for a moment, her steady gaze on Stefan appreciative. What a lovely reassurance.

When she does speak, her voice is warm and sure, no hint of nervousness. "I haven't been struggling with any in particular lately, though there is one thing I could act on. Have dinner with me tomorrow. The rescue today was very much appreciated, but I'd like to spend time with you more intentionally and with less cafeteria food."

Setting down her fork, Maggie folds her hands and waits calmly for Stefan's answer.

A date? Was she actually asking him out??

Stefan blinks back surprise, because honestly, he wasn't expecting that. He liked Maggie, sure, and her company was always pleasant. But a date. He can't remember the last time he'd ever indulged in such a thing. He had Zara and Hazel to babysit, and research to fulfill and - and he was honestly holding back. Why hold back, when he wasn't even guaranteed that this would work out?

So once he pulls himself back together, he smiles just as warmly. "Of course. I'd be honored."

She waits out his surprise, though she didn't expect her question to come as such a shock to Stefan.

Maggie smiles, bright and sincere, genuinely delighted by his eventual answer and the smile on his face when he gives it.

"That leaves us three options. The kind of dives where no one notices who's there, the kind of attention that comes with being or dating the Garcia heiress anywhere public, or a room service picnic." Her tone is slightly apologetic, but Maggie refrains from outright apologizing. This is her life, and she isn't sorry about it. She'll leave it up to Stefan what he'd prefer. Alternatively, she could buy out a private room at a restaurant, but she doesn't throw around her money or power very often.

Shit, that's right. He would be dating someone powerful - and while that's not even remotely close to the reason why he'd want to try something with Maggie, it's a reason to keep this close to their hearts. Vampires don't exist in the open, much less date heiresses.

(He has time to tragically fake his death later, he thinks. Or find a backdoor escape route if this gets too serious.) For now, he wants this with all of his heart, so he mulls on her choices.

"Well... a room service picnic always sounded nice." Less people to witness them, for one. A room service attendant he could compel, should push come to shove. "But I'm not against a hole-in-the-wall either. Do you have any preference?"

Maggie values her freedom, and Stefan chooses the same two options she would have.

"Picnic, then. I live out in the middle of the woods for a reason. I'm not big on all the press circus attention," though she's very good at commanding it when she has to. And she's used to dating people who value their privacy more than she does. Buffy is so secretive that Maggie isn't sure anyone at all knows they've dated, and not just been coworkers and very good friends. Maggie may be a public figure whether she likes it or not, but she only drags other people into that if they're willing. "I've never minded people looking at me, but I don't like them doing it just because of who my parents are."

She returns to eating her lunch, asking, "Do you want to tell me about the research you're here for, or should I wait till tonight to hear about it with everyone else?"

"Understandable." Stefan flashes her a grateful smile. Privacy is the last real luxury he has, and frankly, he'd like to keep that as long as he's able. "I wouldn't be either, if our circumstances were remotely similar."

He shrugs at the mention of his research. As much as he loves talking about it, he's also not gonna bore her to death before the time comes. "Up to you. I never mind talking about it, but I also think tonight's version has way more scientific jargon than it needs."

She notes the unspoken gratitude and makes a mental note to keep Stefan out of the spotlight. No mentions of him by name in her blog, unless it's in the context of writing. The carefully choreographed dates that she usually offers anyone skittish about attention. Maggie likes being open about her life, so long as she doesn't feel completely like she's living in a fishbowl. She doesn't need to be open about the lives of everyone she's involved with; protecting their privacy comes, if not naturally, then close enough.

Maggie laughs. "I've had to pick up a lot of vocabulary over the years, but why don't you hit me with the highlights now. I have another meal with you to avoid talking science." She thinks that she'll enjoy an informal conversation much more than a more planned out presentation, and it's nice to go into things with the stripped down core of the science already in mind before she has to juggle terminology.

"The short version? Hazel and I've been working on a compound that could potentially work as a blood substitute."

Stefan should sound more excited about his work, but at this point in his career (and life), he's resigned to the stone-cold facts. Blood, the mana that all vampires consumed, couldn't be fully replicated in a lab. It was thicker than water for a reason, and - and honestly, he wants a source of food that isn't contaminated. He might as well have been asking for the Holy Grail.

His voice gets quiet, "We're not there yet. It lacks some important qualities, but it's a lot closer than it's been in the past - and Hazel thinks that we might have a working formula in the next couple of years." He idly pokes at his food. "We're not presenting on that, though. As part of our research, we've also uncovered a new treatment for von Willebrand disease, or uh - a bleeding disorder. Hazel'll do most of the talking, as usual."

Stefan doesn't trust himself to stay calm with the microphone; no, this hits too close to home, and he'd rather give Hazel the credit she deserves. After all, he's not even the PI: just someone who intends to see this until the very end.

Between the medical work and the fact that he still seems more interested in her writing than in her family's influence, Maggie is very much looking forward to more time with Stefan. Usually the two spheres of her life are completely separate. People forget to acknowledge the one she chose unless it's the only context they have for knowing her. When the two worlds meet and someone still values her as a writer rather than her parents daughter... that's rare and special.

Her hair is still down and straightened, but the dress she has on by the time Stefan gets to her hotel is soft and clinging and not a bit uptight and professional. Date clothes, if very comfortable ones.

She clears his arrival with the hotel staff rather than coming down to meet him in the lobby herself. This isn't the Agora, and privacy isn't as highly valued here. Maggie opens the door to her room with a warm smile and steps forward to hug him. "Hello, Stefan."

Truthfully, Stefan can't remember the last time that he went on a date. It must've been before the Uprising - before everything went to hell in a handbasket - but he tugs on a blazer over his t-shirt and jeans, just to look a little nice for the occasion.

Before knocking on her door, he exhales slowly. It's just a date. One night to forget about his medical work, one night to maybe feel human again, and one night to enjoy a special room service picnic with an equally special woman.

(Wealth has never been Stefan's concern, not when he had invested his family's fortune as wisely as he could - he didn't need the Garcia's power or influence, though he wouldn't outright deny it either.)

"Hey, Maggie," he says as he rushes into her arms. "Can I come in?"

"Was the hug not welcome enough?" Maggie asks, and kisses Stefan on the cheek before stepping aside to let him past. "I think you'd better come in, now that you're here."

Luxury hotel suites are par for the course for Maggie. Stefan has seen her in her own, admittedly nice, but cluttered and comfortable, home. The room is huge, with a living room and bedroom and hot tub in it. She didn't request a small kitchen this time solely because she knew she wouldn't feel like cooking after long days at the conference.

Maggie heads straight for the couch, settling down in one corner and folding her legs under her.

“I think the kiss sealed the deal,” he teases, visibly relieved as he crosses the threshold. Hotel rooms are technically sacred spaces, though nebulous gray areas — he can't remember if he needs permission or not. Better to stay on the safe side, rather than letting the barrier smack him in the face.

Notably, he doesn't take in the space beyond a cursory glance of where everything is. This is a man who isn't fazed by luxury; he might even be accustomed to it. (His own room back at the conference hotel is a lot smaller, on account of him preferring not to spend more if he can help it. He doesn't exactly compel himself into hotels unlike a certain older brother.)

Following her in, he kicks his shoes off and sits on the couch beside her.

“So this is where they've put you up,” he comments, pulling one leg up under him. “I think we've got room for an actual picnic.”

"I usually do. My mother even claims I was conceived in a luxury hotel suite. Granted, I think she said it in hopes I'd never have sex in one, but..." Maggie grins mischievously and shrugs. "That ship sailed awhile ago."

She turns sideways, leaning against the arm of the couch to look at him. "How has your day been, Stefan?"

He laughs at the mental image - he can't quite relate, given that his mother passed away during his childhood, but he sure can imagine it.

"Day's been good. You know, same old, same old - giving presentations, listening to talks. This, right here? This is legitimately the highlight of my entire conference."

Stefan should've honestly expected her to attend, given the influence the Garcias had, but some small part of him had always thought they'd send a representative. Never, ever in a million years would he have guessed that Maggie herself would've deigned to visit.

"Next time you're going to one of these, you should tell me. I'll act as your translator."

A flattered, gratified smile spreads across Maggie's face at that answer. Being the highlight of anyone's week is a pleasant thing.

"I hold my own pretty well without a translator," Maggie protests amiably, "though I'd hardly turn down your company. I've had to pick up the vocabulary, and a knack for analyzing results and projections. I can understand big pictures on my own, and I pare down the projects I see to the ones that seem worth looking into by people who actually know what they're doing. I just play occasional figurehead."

"Fair enough," Stefan admits, half-tempted to scoot closer (but that's improper first date etiquette). "Half the jargon's gatekeeping, anyway. I don't get why they use five words when one or two'll do."

He does, theoretically - science can be complicated, but most concepts aren't. If Stefan had put a little more thought into his career, he could've been a science communicator, breaking down the latest research into laymen's terms without simplifying or exaggerating the findings.

"It's still a lot less boring when you're around."

"Because how else would we know they're more intelligent and better educated than we are?" Maggie asks, grinning. "Or we could credit some of them with the nicer explanation, that they're so wrapped up in their field they forget not everyone will grasp the complexity."

"Flatterer." But she knows he's sincere or there would be a very different expression on her face from the relaxed, easy smile currently gracing it. "Spend as much time as you like around me."

"Considering where we are, I think we have to swing with the nicer explanation." Stefan returns that grin, knowing full well that he's technically part of the group he's insulting.

"I think I will," he teases, reaching for a menu from a nearby table. "So did you order already, or do I get a say in what we're eating?"

Even if, you know, he doesn't technically need any of it.

"You get a say tonight. As for when I cook, I take requests and preferences into account, but I make the choices." Stefan has seen how accommodating she was with drink preferences, so that shouldn't seem like a hardship.

Maggie doesn't bother reaching for her own menu, shifting to lean in closer and read over Stefan's shoulder. Which she'll rest a hand on, as long as she's there.

"Perfect." One less thing he has to worry about. Stefan doesn't exactly need food, so if Maggie wants to take charge? By all means, go for it. "Hmm... everything looks good, so unless you've got a preference for meat or seafood, I might pick at random."

He grins, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"See, I eat pretty much everything, though oh. How do you feel about wine?"

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wow this got lost in tag mountain

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