Sunsets are nice. Bread and cheese are nice. Ryan is..... kind of nice. Actually.

Her stomach is maybe knotting up a little (is it supposed to do that? people do talk about feeling weird and getting butterflies around people they like? these don't really feel like butterflies so much but maybe other people are just bad at similes). She's repeatedly reminding herself that it's OK, it's OK, Ryan's not going to hurt her, she's fine, she's fine, it's safe here. And that mostly keeps it so her stomach is only knotting up a little bit.

It gets dark. They head back. "Can Slayers see in the dark? If I were designing a vampire-killing powerset that'd absolutely be on there."

"Right? We totally should be able to, but we can't. Quendi can. It's deeply unfair."

"Quendi are kind of bullshit. If this were a comic book I'd be really annoyed at whoever introduced them."

"They really are. I think DC Martians beat them, but honestly not by much. Although DC Martians aren't literally immortal, they just live for centuries. And I think there aren't very many of them, it's like Krypton except that the planet didn't actually blow up. Or something."

"They're telepaths! They're as strong as the Slayer! They're immortal! They can't be turned into vampires! They have healing powers! They see in the dark. They sing - magically. Their greatest weakness is things being ugly. They're all ridiculously wealthy!"

"We need to get some better writers, stat." 

He squeezes her hand. "I liked the ones who did the bit about Sunnydale being peaceful and not having any murders. Except I guess that was probably an intro panel."

Squeeze. "Sunnydale's writers thought they could get away with anything, honestly. No regard for common sense.

"I, uh - I don't a hundred percent know how the shower part of this plan works without running water?"

"- good point, it really doesn't. 

Man, I miss running water."

"Yeah.

"We could... just go back to your room, I guess?"

"Yeah." Handsqueeze.

Handsqueeze.

(She can do this, she can do this, she can do this, she can do this - )

She follows him back.

His room is dark. "- I could fix that but this might be easier -"

" - yeah. Maybe. Uh, do we...?"

She's not really even sure how that sentence is supposed to end. 

He waits a bit to see if she's going to finish that sentence. "We can keep talking about comic books. 

Technically you can take surprisingly little clothing off, if that's more comfortable."

She's kind of very tempted to accept this offer. It also kind of sounds like a coward's way out. She wishes the butterfly-knots would stop so that she could think better. 

"I think - I think it might go better without them. Maybe."

"Okay. All covered in blankets is also an option if that works - as well and feels less avoidant or something -"

" - yeah. Maybe. That sounds like it might be a good idea." Maybe if she says more words it'll be less obvious that she isn't saying anything with them.

She heads for the bed.

...well, Karen, if you're gonna take your clothes off then you're gonna need to take physical actions to make that happen. She can do that. She can. She's weirdly aware of every motion she's taking, like a robot that has to execute each specific command precisely and that can't do tasks as large as 'take off shirt' as a unit, but she can and she does. And now she is naked and on a bed. This is probably progress.

He touches her arm, gently. "You okay?"

"I think so. I think - slowly. But yeah.

" - I'm really glad you're here? In the sense of - there are a lot of random people on Earth and probably a lot that work at the Bureau facility. And I think you're probably a lot nicer and more understanding than most of them. And I like you better than I would have liked most of them. So - I'm glad you're here."

He gets a blanket. - actually why not two, if the weight is reassuring or something. He tucks it in around her, taking longer at this than actually necessary. "You're - I think a lot of people would have an easier time with this but I can't imagine any trying harder. I'm - I'm impressed with you."

The butterfly knots loosen up, like, a little bit.

"Thanks."

"If it doesn't work tonight that's okay, right?"

She nods. "Lots more days. Four-hundred year war, so."