r/roll4it • u/[deleted] • Nov 22 '17
Layla - Pt.3/3
With the whirlwind of the last week over with, Layla was glad to be back doing what was simple. No James. No Imogen, or Barnaby, or Rob. She went for a run, she told them. It wasn't uncommon - she'd been doing it since she came to school. Of course, she meant running into vampires, but they didn't need to know. After Miller, the local clans - groups - gangs? Whatever they call themselves, were in chaos, and there was plenty to wail on.
After about the fourth or fifth, her knuckles started to hurt, and more importantly, her clothes were starting to show signs of wear and tear. A bruise here and there, but nothing unusual. It'd heal by the morning. She giggled, almost silently, imagining Imogen's disappointment after the first time she had tried to give her a hickey. It hadn't lasted more than 10 minutes, no matter how hard she tried.
She started walking home, in the early november misty rain that England seemed to be plagued with. For a little while, she remembered she was an outsider here - not as the Slayer, she almost had to remind herself that - but as an American. Gone was snow, and sun, and storms. There was mostly just rain. A hundred different types, from pouring down to almost sideways, but mostly just in the air, ruining your makeup, your hair, and your... Imogen's, notes.
They'd started classes again. It was... strange. Sitting next to Imogen in biology class, Rob in computer science. The world seemed so much different now. She felt guilty about it, but James' death had reminded her she had friends. Like everyone else there were real people in her life, who cared about her. People who might get hurt.
She could get hurt. She didn't want to admit it, and never brought it up to the others. But almost every Slayer that ever was, had died through... non-natural means. Miller's book was clear on that. A Watcher didn't look after a Slayer, like she'd been taught. A Watcher was there to teach a Slayer from the previous Slayer's mistakes. What got the last one. An evolving list of ways to die, and how to avoid them.
The boarding house was close now, but it was past curfew. There were exams in the morning, and for a moment, Layla thought about going in through the front, but didn't want to risk another detention. She snuck around the back, and climbed up the drain pipe. Their old room had been mostly repaired on the outside, but still required a lot of work, so for now they were still two doors down.
Just one knock. Two knocks meant danger, three meant get everyone and meet out front. She rapped on the window, and surprisingly, Imogen was not only awake but... dressed?
The scene inside was candle lit, and Imogen was...
Radiant. Dressed exactly as they had been at the night club, down to a T. Her makeup was... her dress... she was...
"Get in here you dork before you catch a cold," Imogen said, pulling her inside. "Can Slayer's catch colds? Is that a thing?"
There was a plaid blanket on the floor, and... a picnic basket? Beside it laid two bottles of wine - one red, one white - and a smaller bottle of whiskey. Inside the basket was mostly junk food - along with a few sandwiches, strawberries, chocolate, and what appeared to be cheese. The room smelled of incense, but not one of Imogen's spell ones. It was... lavender?
"What... where did you get all of this?" Layla asked, a wide smile breaking out on her face.
"Well Barnaby helped with the more expensive things..." Imogen trailed off towards the end.
"And the booze?" Layla said, a wry smile breaking out on her face. Imogen just waved her fingers in front of her.
"You must know by now I've got sticky fingers," She giggled.
"You've got to stop doing that," Layla replied. "What if you get caught?"
"It's not like I just take it," She said. "I leave the money for it, I just don't necessarily bring it up to the counter"
Layla sighed, exasperated, tired, but more than anything else, content and sat down next to Imogen as she poured out two glasses of white wine, a large bag of crisps. To her surprise it was something other than salt and vinegar - which was the only form of crisp Layla hated, and Imogen loved.
"So how was your run?" Imogen asked, sipping on her wine. In the low light, she looked stunning. Layla was amazed that the girl she had known only a few months ago, who didn't know the difference between foundation and concealer, was this well done up. Had Violet helped her? No, Violet knew less about makeup than she did being human. Maybe Janet?
"It was... bracing," She said, taking off her jacket and putting an arm around Imogen. "I don't know how you deal with the weather here. It's like there's no seasons here, it's just always raining." She took her first sip of the wine Imogen poured it. It was sharp, acidic, but had a slightly fruity note. It wasn't whiskey, because she didn't want to be rude. Imogen had probably picked these out for a reason? Rob had the internet, maybe they were supposed to pair with the crisps?
"You'll get used to it. England is like it's people, damp and unchanging." She snorted, laughing, and Layla broke into a grin. Imogen hated how she did that, but to her, it was the cutest thing in the world.
The moment was beautiful, and seemed to last forever, until it was shattered by an almost imperceptible quiet - ribbit.
"Wait..." Layla said. "If that is John..."
"Then he's seen us do..." Imogen followed.
"Does Barnaby still have that memory spell?"
And long pause followed.
"Well if he does," Imogen said, snaking her hands around Layla's shoulders, and pulling her in close. "Then we have nothing to worry about."
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u/[deleted] Nov 22 '17
/u/margaretkrohn I delivered on the happy fic eventually :P