Magdalene Grace Garcia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
talesuntold) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
triangularity2016-03-08 04:58 pm
talesuntold) wrote in triangularity2016-03-08 04:58 pm
for Jairo
Maggie heard the station for the first time the day after Buffy died. A sudden friendly voice in the middle of all her supposedly talk-free satellite radio. Maggie could have been annoyed, but that day, it was just what she needed.
She didn't have the luxury of indulging her grief for long, however broken up she was over it. The news doesn't wait. Maggie might run the fiction and poetry division of After the End Times rather than factual reporting, but she's still a journalist. Buffy left big shoes to fill, when Maggie took over her department.
Since that day she's been a regular listener, and she's even gotten to know the DJ a bit.
Tonight is one of her storytelling nights. Maggie settles into the comfy chair in her office with a cup of tea and a laptop. Softly, she orders, "House, turn on the radio."
She doesn't specify a station, just waits. And sure enough, there's no need to scan through looking for something in particular. Jairo's voice is loud and clear, warming her up just as much as the tea she's drinking. An excellent way to spend the evening. After one more sip, Maggie sets down her mug and begins to type.
Hello, my dears!
You're in for a treat tonight. I'll be opening the floor to requests. Is there a story you've been itching to hear? A scene you wish I'd included in one of my ongoing serials? A feeling you need echoed in poetry or prose? I'm here to oblige. I'll fill in any gaps in the stream of inspiration with whatever comes to mind.
I have music playing, tea steeping, and all the time in the world. Or at least, as much time as any of us are guaranteed in these crazy times. Stick around. Let's create something together.
After all, where would all these stories be without someone to read them?
She didn't have the luxury of indulging her grief for long, however broken up she was over it. The news doesn't wait. Maggie might run the fiction and poetry division of After the End Times rather than factual reporting, but she's still a journalist. Buffy left big shoes to fill, when Maggie took over her department.
Since that day she's been a regular listener, and she's even gotten to know the DJ a bit.
Tonight is one of her storytelling nights. Maggie settles into the comfy chair in her office with a cup of tea and a laptop. Softly, she orders, "House, turn on the radio."
She doesn't specify a station, just waits. And sure enough, there's no need to scan through looking for something in particular. Jairo's voice is loud and clear, warming her up just as much as the tea she's drinking. An excellent way to spend the evening. After one more sip, Maggie sets down her mug and begins to type.
Hello, my dears!
You're in for a treat tonight. I'll be opening the floor to requests. Is there a story you've been itching to hear? A scene you wish I'd included in one of my ongoing serials? A feeling you need echoed in poetry or prose? I'm here to oblige. I'll fill in any gaps in the stream of inspiration with whatever comes to mind.
I have music playing, tea steeping, and all the time in the world. Or at least, as much time as any of us are guaranteed in these crazy times. Stick around. Let's create something together.
After all, where would all these stories be without someone to read them?
no subject
Oh, wow. Maggie is hugging him, and he feels more than hot--he feels giddy and stupid and in love all at once, because this is the woman on the webcam, the beautiful girl with a mind to match, and Jai finds himself not regretting a goddamn thing. Not about this. especially not about this.
"Oh, me, too," he agrees. "I was going to chicken out, but I--"
He doesn't finish his sentence. HE doesn't because Maggie is kissing him, eager and stunning and she kisses as good as she looks, so much so it knocks the wind out of Jai. He can't believe he's actually here. That this is real.
Maybe he'll wake up tomorrow and it really will be a dream; Maggie and her stories and her army of pugs or bulldogs or shitzus or whatever they are. But for now, it's not, so he brings one hand to the side of her face, cupping it, and his thumb moves along her jawline as he kisses her right back. His other hand moves to the small of her back, gently pressing her closer.
It's one hell of a nice dream if it is one, at least.
no subject
Maggie stopped hesitating the second his announcement tipped her over the edge. Jairo said how he felt, got in his car, and drove. Maggie got over her fears and her waiting. She works in words. Of course she can fall in love from a distance, but oh, is it nice to have a real, solid person here, in her arms, kissing her, pulling her closer. She obliges with another half step forward, her arms tightening around him.
Jai isn't the only person half-wondering if this is real. Calmer, lazier kisses are definitely on her agenda later, but this one has enough urgency in it that it's almost as if she's afraid he'll vanish.
She breaks the kiss just enough to rest her forehead against Jai's, her breath still brushing his lips when she speaks. "Thank you for being braver than I was. I needed that."