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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Maggie notices the hesitation before his answer. "I can get cow or goat milk, I just need a little notice. Small towns, you know. The grocery store will stock anything I ask them to, but some things are only available sporadically or on request. Weed is a fishing town, not a farming one."

And a town that only exists because Maggie's parents put a lot of money into keeping it going after the Rising. The fisheries were a good incentive, but not enough of one. The Garcias own enough interest in the local businesses that Maggie isn't exaggerating when she says the grocery store will stock absolutely any food she requests, though she'll pay a lot for the rarer commodities.

"I am rather fond of it, as plans go. It helps that I can work from anywhere I have a laptop, as can the writers from my team. Sometimes I just put coworkers up here for a week or two instead of sending them back to their own homes." Newsies and Irwins have to go out and find or make the news. Fictionals? They just have to write, and preferably keep abreast of current events so their work is topical enough to gain an audience.

"Hey, no, don't worry about it. I'm fine with soy."

He means it too. After all, a guy still requesting cow's milk in this day and age is a little bit of a sore thumb - and a guy like Stefan can't afford to stick out much.

"That's pretty convenient," he admits, with a hint of a smile on his face. "I've read some of your stuff, by the way. It's pretty impressive."

"There's just no point settling. Not here. If you have a preference, it's easy enough for me to keep it in mind." Because she's Maggie Garcia, and heiress to quite possibly the wealthiest couple in the world. Granted, Maggie doesn't touch much of the family money. She lives on earnings from her writing and the interest generated by her trust fund, but even just the interest is plenty to allow for whatever small luxuries she or any friends might want.

Compliments to her writing are Maggie's favorite kind of praise. She smiles, big and genuine. "I always like hearing that. Any favorite genres?" Her writing spans from poetry to adventure to porn. Maggie doesn't confine herself to one style of writing, though she does tend to avoid nonfiction. Maggie leaves news to the Newsies.

Even if she weren't the heiress, some small part of Stefan would've still hesitated. It wasn't his nature to ask for such things! He manages a smile, though. “For next time, then.”

There will be a next time, since Zara's usual friends bailed on her (and as her loyal uncle / family protector, he apparently has nothing better to do.) When Maggie asks which piece, he has to think about it - he loved it all. Sure, he leaned towards the poetry and the more action-adventure oriented stories, but he'd always been a voracious reader. If he could get his hands on it, he'd try it.

“I don't know if I can narrow it down,” he finally admits. “I loved your last collection of poems, but your entire body of work speaks for itself.”

His praise is equally as genuine; he's here more for Maggie the writer, not Maggie the pharmaceutical heiress. Well, that and Zara, but he practically lived with the kid.

"Next time," she agrees. He knows how to strike a balance between expecting things and protesting when they're freely offered. Always appreciated. But then, Maggie wouldn't expect anything less of someone Zara invited.

Stefan's answer was exactly the right kind. Her smile softens as Maggie tells him, "Thank you." Reading and actually thinking about her work... he appreciated Maggie on her own merits.

And that's what Maggie loves about these movie nights, and about her job. That's why she went into the field she did. She wanted people to look at her work rather than her name, and journalism is a strict meritocracy, at least in the circles Maggie runs in. She's good at being a writer. She's never been all that good at being a spoiled brat.

"Do you do any writing of your own, or just appreciate good reading material?"

Stefan can't quite help smiling at her question, because technically? "A little. It kind of runs in the family - my grandfather was Gilbert Branson."

In hindsight, the alias was a stupidly obvious one: Gilbert from his lost love Elena Gilbert, and Branson from his best friend Lexi Branson. Neither of them could complain, considering they were no longer among the living; at the time, it had seemed like a fitting tribute to two of the most important people in his life.

Maggie would've definitely known the name, if she paid attention to romance novels, as Gilbert Branson had written a few classic tragedies, of immortals who loved humans and those fleeting moments spent together with them. (They may or may have not been based on his life experiences.)

"But uh, I'm not as interested in romance. It's mostly poems."

That sure is a smile of recognition on Maggie's face. "I did enjoy your grandfather's books. I've always been fond of pre-Rising classics, and his were more interesting than a lot of the genre at the time."

She'll have to compliment Zara on her taste in invitees later. Maggie slides a full coffee mug down the counter Stefan's way. "Are your poems published anywhere? You've read mine. I'd return the favor."

It had been a while since anyone - outside of the elderly - had admitted such a fondness, and so Stefan can't quite hide how much more genuine his smile becomes. Teenagers had long since moved on. Too many of them ranted about wanting a happy ending.

(So did he, sweet children. So did he.)

Accepting the mug, he shakes his head. "Not formally. I've collected more than a few of them online, but I'm not sure I should go to the trouble."

Even if "his grandfather" knew a few, Stefan wouldn't want to cash on his own name, or risk some savvy reader uncovering the distinct tell-tale signs of Stefan's writing. Family members wrote similarly sometimes, and sure, Stefan's writing had evolved over the course of a few decades. Some details or quirks, though, never went away.

But he amends, "I could send you the URL? If that would be enough?"

He has such a nice smile when it's that sincere. Maggie can't help but notice, and she does go ahead and return it.

"You're talking to a blogger, Stefan. Most of my work is online only, and my contact with the formal publishing industry is infrequent. A URL is plenty."

Maggie's blog comes with all the licensing and accreditation of any journalist, but she knows just how many differences there are between her own end of publishing and more traditional media. Publishing one collection through traditional means was more than enough for her. Maggie likes her job just the way it is.

"Fair enough. I guess, I'm still used to more old-fashioned methods."

Elena had shown him the fine art of blogging, back in the Before Times - and while Stefan hadn't taken to it easy, it had become such a stable part of his routine that he wouldn't give it up for the world. It reminded him of her, and in turn, he felt like he was keeping a little piece of her alive.

Taking a sip from the mug, he adds, "I left my stuff in the main room - let me help you with this, and then I'll give it to you."

Maggie grins around what would be a laugh if she'd let it. "A family thing, then? You look younger than me, I'm not sure how much time you'd have had to get used to old fashioned methods."

Generally, her parents' generation, the last one to grow up before the Rising, defaults to print media, but hers? Well, digital has been so much easier for a long time that a lot of people her own age don't bother with hard copies of much of anything.

"Thank you, Stefan," she says, still smiling. "I know you didn't volunteer to play kitchen helper, but it's appreciated."

"I'm only twenty one," he says, as if that'll absolve him of the grand crime of writing by hand. Still, his smile's just as wide. "But yeah, family tradition. Mom gave me a pen and paper journal and told me that writing would help.... and I kind of never stopped."

That wasn't a lie. His mother had given him his first journal, and he hadn't stopped. Not for over a century and a half. Times had changed, but he'd never switch over from pen & paper completely - especially not for his most important memories.

"It's really nothing. You're doing most of the heavy lifting. If I can help in any way, I will."

She smiles. "My parents didn't know to offer that, but then, they also never once complained that I went into journalism rather than the family business." Maggie's doting parents who have no one but her to leave their pharmaceutical empire to. They raised their daughter well and then let her do whatever she wanted with her life.

All that Maggie really needs from Stefan is quite literally lifting. "Since I'm not an octopus, I do need the extra hands for carrying things upstairs. Plus there's the added benefit of getting to talk to you for a few minutes. A very informal 'are you welcome back,' test. You passed, of course. You won't have to contend with the guards if you show up at my gates again."

There's a fairly sizable list of people with open invitations to Maggie's house. Full of people she likes is Maggie's favorite state to have her house in. She doesn't always extend one, and anyone who isn't on that list has the inconvenience of talking to the guards and getting Maggie's approval any time they want to come.

Now that she mentioned it, who was gonna take over the company? To his knowledge, Maggie didn't have siblings, and the Garcias - well, they must've had someone in mind. A company that huge would've taken the necessary precautions.

"Great! But I have to say, I might miss talking to them," he teased, taking an extra tray so that he could help with the rest. "Your guards were surprisingly good company until I got cleared."

By which he means, he might've compelled them into being more talkative than usual. Stefan's not stupid - he wouldn't compel his way in, especially with witnesses and cameras - but he's certainly not above those tactics for extra information.

Financially, Maggie is their heir. It would certainly be easier for her parents if they could leave the business decisions to her entirely. In lieu of that, they have very carefully picked executives. Maggie herself knows just enough about the medical field to be able to understand anything discussed in the board room. She'll have a controlling interest in the company if and when she inherits, and the responsibility for knowing who's trying to feed her bullshit. She hopes that day is a long, long way off.

She laughs when Stefan compliments the guards. "I am fond of Alex and his team. Good people and good at their jobs. I won't forbid you from conversation, I'm just promising a lack of interrogation. Most people are a little more off-put by the lukewarm welcome."

"While I have you," she asks him as an afterthought, "do you have any movie requests? It's not a themed night, so I'm taking those. Good or laughably bad."

Most people weren't also ancient vampires. Stefan would lose count if he tried to recall the people who tried to intimidate him; sometimes he humored them. Usually, he didn't, because even eternity is too short.

"I do appreciate that," he admits, his expression softening a little.

At the mention of requests, he has to think about it for a couple of seconds. "Not off the top of my head. I don't know our crowd well, but I've always been a fan of Inception."

His taste usually leans towards the classics - or what would be considered a classic - but tonight, he wouldn't mind rolling with the flow. The best movies were the ones he wouldn't usually think to pick for himself.

"Unnecessary interrogations interfere with my cunning plan to lure back return visitors, you see," she informs Stefan seriously, suppressing a grin.

She'd be perfectly happy to forego armed guards, if it weren't for kidnapping concerns. Maggie's house, with its five walls and gates, is fairly fortress-like. It can stop the dead just fine. It's the living who are a problem. Since she has to have guards, she's made the best of it. Their contract says that even if her father's paying them (which he is, because he insists his daughter have guards and a microchip monitoring her vital signs if she wants her independence), they work for Maggie directly. They answer to her, and she approved every one of them before they were hired. She likes them personally, especially Alex.

Maggie's eyes light when he names it, because Stefan's isn't a suggestion anyone's brought to her before, and yes, she owns and enjoys the movie. "Not quite in our usual wheelhouse, but close enough that I can be talked into it. Dreamscapes within dreamscapes, what's not to enjoy? Come on, let's see what we're sitting through first."

She takes a tray of her own, balancing it easily as they return to the home theater. When they get there, Maggie raises her eyebrows. "And whose choice was this one?"

...Laughably bad has always been on the menu, she supposes.

"Clever." He stifles a laugh, careful to balance the tray as he waits for her to lead the way. While he could reasonably find the room again, and still have everything warm, it would blow his cover.

Stefan doesn't have to see the movie to know who picked it. The overdramatic voices, the angsty soul-dripping music... Only one person in this room would adore it, and that would be his goddaughter. His laugh is rich and genuine as he stares at the movie, then back at Maggie.

"Zara's," He says, without a trace of hesitation. "Whenever there's a vampire movie, it's her."

Right on cue, she sticks her tongue out at Stefan, mouthing something suspiciously like an insult. Stefan, in return, scrunches up his whole face at her. As much as he loves Zara, sometimes, he wishes Zara's mother would've kept a tighter rein on her.

Zara and Stefan bicker like family, Maggie notes with a grin at that exchange. Stefan did tell her that their families had been close a long time.

"I guess I've never let you have control of the remote before, Zara," she muses. "I'm learning all kinds of new things tonight."

Maggie hands out drinks to the appropriate recipients before folding herself into the corner of a mostly empty couch, knees tucked up to her chest. She sips her own tea and then rests the mug on her knee. On second thought, Maggie shrugs, smiles, and sets the mug aside.

"As long as I have popcorn." She holds out a hand. Maggie refuses to sit through this without copious amounts of snacks. Pass her the biggest bowl in the room, please.

"There's a reason you should never let her. All you'll end up with is trashy tragic vampire romances."

"HEY," Zara retorts back, wrinkling her nose at him. "Sometimes they're tragic witch romances."

Stefan shakes his head at her before taking Maggie's cue and helping her deliver the rest of the drinks (+ various snacks) to everyone. It takes him a little longer, considering that he's a stranger to most of them, but he finishes soon enough.

Taking his seat next to Maggie this time, he passes the giant bowl of popcorn to her.

"Or you could just comment on it the whole time," he says softly, trying not to interrupt the party after his and Zara's rather... loud bickering. "That's how I got through the entire Twilight series."

Edited 2016-01-28 04:44 (UTC)

Maggie actually likes trashy romances, let it be said. But she has to draw a line somewhre. A low laugh is her only response to the further bickering, followed by a gratified smile when Stefan joins her.

"Are you offering to keep me entertained?" she asks just as quietly. "You can definitely stay. You come bearing popcorn and commentary, two of my favorite things."

Maybe Zara's choice will turn out much more enjoyable than expected. At least she has far better taste in people than in movies.

"I'm offering to keep you awake," he counters, taking back the bowl of popcorn and helping himself to a mouthful. Eating makes him feel human, but it also helps him stave off the desperate cravings.

Even though he's seen this movie more often than he wants to admit, the music is charming and the cast tried. They were unfortunately stuck with the script from hell.

"I don't know how else you'd get through these things. I mean, you could sleep, but the angst's pretty loud with this one."

"You'd better, now that you're sitting next to me," Maggie agrees cheerfully, "unless you want me to fall asleep on you. This isn't the worst vampire movie you've sat through, is it?"

Maggie is terrible and might well take it as a challenge to come up with something more terribly written if he says it is.

"I always wish the writing and acting were either a little bit better or a little bit worse." Genuine entertainment or more humor value. Maggie thinks Twilight falls into a dead zone somewhere between fun to watch and fun to mock, and so it rarely makes it near her movie docket. She sighs at Bella. "Yes, go right ahead and sniff your hair. I'm sure that's why he's been staring at you since you paused dramatically in front of that fan."

Now that's a good question. Stefan mentally goes through the list of every vampire movie he's ever watched - and there were a lot, no small thanks to his favorite niece. "Not even remotely. Vampire Academy was it, I think," he says, tilting his head a little.

At the mention of Bella sniffing her hair, Stefan stifles a laugh. "It hits that awkward middle spot where half of the cast took it seriously and half the cast phoned it in. The humans were the best part of this whole thing." Seriously, he would've paid good money for Charlie Swan: Vampire Hunter, and he normally hates all hunter-types with a passion.

"She was worse in the book. At least here, we can't hear her think."

Maggie's low chuckle says enough, at the mention of the other movie. She's seen that one, and would actually go with it over Twilight any time. It's more fun to mock, and her movie nights are bad movie parties as often as not.

"That's it exactly," Maggie agrees enthusiastically. "It's too bad to take seriously, but not quite bad enough to be funny. The cast's split attitudes are a big part of that. You're right about the humans, too, if we leave Bella out of the equation. Charlie's excellent."

And Maggie wrinkles her nose. "There are many people's heads, fictional and otherwise, I'd like to get into. Bella Swan was never one of them." She's read the books, of course, whether she liked them or not. How could she call herself a pre-Rising media buff if she hadn't?

She takes as big a handful of popcorn as she can manage.

for Stefan

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