𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵,

from the corner of her eye, fallon notices easy’s offering. the worst thing she can do at this moment is treat him any differently than she normally does and most of the time, she’d ignore that sort of gesture. but she probably needs it more than he does, so she reaches out, takes his hand and gives the slightest squeeze.  fallon’s done what she can, done her best to be there for him, even if it doesn’t come effortlessly to her. there used to be a time when she thought easy would eventually tire of her coldness. there are still days that feel like that but they come less frequently. for a few moments, they sit in the silence that’s always been natural for them. her eyes wander over to easy’s window, watches the snow fall, trapping them for the night. anything else that needs to be said can wait until morning.

LARA CROFT: TOMB RAIDER 2001 ― Dir. Simon West

“my bad.” he shifts to the right to put more distance between them. there’s another corner just across the way, but moving feels unnecessary and, more to the point, he doesn’t want to. not with the group of people loitering near the entrance. he hears the rest of what she says, of course. victor’s too alert in his surroundings to miss anything. that doesn’t mean he rushes to respond.  the soda’s right, just as he’s been ordering all night. dr pepper with light ice. he’s sure the only reason it’s right at all is due to his habit of overpaying, even for soda, which means a heftier tip. he surveys the parking lot as he leans his shoulder back against the brick, his eyes snapping to the door as it opens and the sound of a guitar tuning filters out. once it shuts again, he looks back to the parking lot. finally, he mumbles, “it's fine.” victor lifts the cup, the ice knocking against the plastic as he brings the rim to his lips. a brow raises. “what’d you do to him?”

her eyes narrow when he takes a few steps away but doesn’t completely leave. a wry smile tugs at one corner of her lips. “much better.” now, with the added space between them, it seems like he’s going to ignore her. fine, she wasn’t keen on making conversation either. fallon turns her gaze down to her watch, counting down the minutes until 2nd heaven goes up and she can go home. then, victor answers and she turns her ear toward him, straining to make out what he’s muttering. fallon’s used to him doing that at work, but here, when the sound from inside fight club is faintly leaking through the door, it doesn’t help that he’s speaking under his breath. she lets out a sigh. “i backed into his car last month while trying to leave a party.” he had been improperly parked. and he’d cornered her for twenty minutes to soliloquy about how he’s also trying to start his own band. but mostly, she didn’t have enough room to reverse out of the driveway. she lifts the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. “your turn.”

a small but plain smile crosses her face, pleased to have brought even a modicum of consolation to easy. fallon’s not a particularly good friend, too invested in her own solitude to make room for another person in her life; but she’s always made the space for easy. she looks over at him and there’s a slight twinkle in his eye, the way he gets when he has a new idea. he’ll tell her about that too, when he’s ready. with the slightest shake of her head, fallon murmurs, her voice soft, “no.” it’s half a question, half a statement, whatever he wants it to be. and when it comes to what she knows, easy can decide which parts he’s willing to share with her. “it’d be okay though.” her right shoulder lifts in a shrug. “if you were, i mean.” she cuts her gaze away from his, pretends to inspect her chipped black nail polish. it’s more for him than it is for her, a way to preserve his dignity and give him the space to react whichever way he needs without her scrutiny. “but figuring it out’s fine too.”

“i care about—!” ana cuts herself off, suddenly reminded there are other people outside of this room. she doesn’t need the wrong person hearing, so she lowers her voice a few octaves before continuing, “i care about people's feelings. that’s why i gave easy such a hard time.” for the sake of being honest, ana drops her defense. her shoulders relax with a slow exhale, “i don’t want victor to be let down when easy decides to move on to the next person. there’s always a next person.” as she spoke, ana examined fallon’s demeanor. she looked a bit different tonight. more confident, no longer the girl she once knew. there’s a chance that seeing fallon at a party could change ana’s opinion of her. it's a rare sight. and there’s also a chance something is left unsaid between them, she can sense it. of course, ana is too curious for her own good. “no, go ahead. say what you were going to say…” she offers, impressed by the way fallon has stepped up and confronted ana. she’s may just be acting on her selfishness, finding this side of fallon interesting and wishes for more. but, ana thinks it would be beneficial to give her the opportunity to be a friend to easy. she would do the same if victor was on the opposite end. and wasn’t that the catalyst for this exchange in the first place?

ana’s sincerity catches fallon off guard. she falters ever so slightly but manages a quick recovery, letting out a scoff. “and victor can’t take care of himself?” she’s acutely aware of how hypocritical she sounds when she’s only having this conversation on easy’s behalf. fallon presses on. “if he gets involved with easy, he knows what he’s getting himself into.” at best, it’s a flimsy evaluation. she doesn’t know details, doesn’t know how or when things started, if it’s a relationship or something less defined. seeing as it isn’t her or ana’s or anyone else’s business, it doesn’t matter anyway. “just,” she pauses, eyes flitting away from ana’s gaze as she considers what she wants to say next. every coherent thought flies out of her head. despite fallon’s penchant for staring and observing other people, being on the receiving end has always caused her unease. for her, being seen often feels the same as being caught.  and then, like a fog lifting, something occurs to fallon. “you won’t say anything.” she says, like she’s decided for ana. fallon’s pretty sure ana already made that call herself, since easy’s not the only one who’ll get hurt if she does tell anyone. even now, they’re both standing in front of each other to look out for their respective people. it’s strange to think that she and ana could be aligned in any regard.

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER | 3.22

the only reason fallon is even there is to bring easy the half of the chimichanga from gordito’s that she couldn’t finish— and the corona in a brown bag that wouldn’t necessarily be described as discrete but does the job. she definitely wasn’t also trying to get free admission into the movie marathon but when he does offer, who is she to say no? by the time she’s made sure her popcorn has enough butter on it, the opening scene of airhead’s already playing. her eyes squint as she surveys the darkened theater for an empty seat when frankie whispers to her. “absolutely not.” fallon takes the seat next to her anyway, calling bullshit on the proposed deal. frankie may be assistant manager but she’s pretty sure that assigning movie theater seats isn’t part of the job description. “just have some of mine. but don’t even think about asking for a sip of my soda.”

with his back half-turned to the bar, victor catches the last few seconds of the opening band. there are a few scattered whistles and clapping, but mostly the crowd looks antsy as they wait for 2nd heaven to grace the stage. he watches it for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes drifting over the stage before settling back on the bar in front of him. when the bartender passes, they give him an expectant look. “dr pepper,” he says, his voice even, as if a soda is a natural thing to order here. once the cup is placed in front of him, he sets a few ones down on the counter, sliding them closer to the bartender. the crowd moves closer to the stage now that the break between sets has begun, shoulders bumping, voices rising as people try to claim better spots. someone laughs too loudly behind him, another already complaining about how long the changeover is taking. victor takes a slow sip before taking a step away from the bar, heading for the door without much thought. he steps outside, dragging a hand over the back of his neck as he takes a deep inhale. the noise dulls behind him as the door swings shut, and victor easily finds a more secluded corner. he’s not alone. fallon’s a few feet away, but with the way they’ve maintained their typical behavior of staying out of each other’s way, he pays no mind. he takes a slow sip of his drink.

the openers are about halfway through their set when fallon and juno arrive. fallon would’ve preferred to get there earlier but juno lost the car keys, so they’d spent twenty minutes rummaging through drawers and coat pockets just for juno to realize she’d accidentally slipped it into her purse already. she doesn’t rate dickache so it’s not a huge deal but it does mean she has to elbow her way into making space for herself at the bar just for a coke with a lemon wedge. fifteen years later, the bartender finally slides her drink to her and juno, unsurprisingly, has already abandoned her. for a while, she stands at the back of the crowd and tries to enjoy the music, which isn’t an easy feat when a new someone jostles against her every few seconds, threatening to spill her drink (definitely diet). and the music’s not even good. fallon gives up eventually, slipping out the door to get a little air until 2nd heaven goes up. she’s leaning with her back against the wall, arms crossed as she holds her still nearly full cup by the rim when victor steps out. a huff, barely audible, escapes her when he positions himself just a few feet away. “hey, i called dibs on this corner.” she watches as he sips his drink. “did damien get your order right or is he still harboring that grudge against me?”

at first, fallon resists when birdie slips their hand into hers but just as quickly, she relaxes. their affection’s no longer as unwelcome as it used to be; before fallon might have reacted like she’d been scalded. her head turns to meet their gaze. other people may find it difficult to say no to birdie when they get that look in their eyes, but fallon’s voice is devoid of any guilt when she responds, “not even if satan himself showed up.” teasingly, she squeezes birdie’s hand back. “begging? that’s not very rockstar-like of you.”

the chances of noa sparing her a thought outside of work are so low that she’d sooner bet on easy settling down. “ah, of course,” she remarks drily. fallon raises the cigarette back up to her lips, draws the smoke into her lungs. “don’t expect me to return the sentiment.” juno took fallon to her first live show when she was twelve: some local band that birdie had shown to fallon during one of their lessons was playing a venue an hour away. naturally, not much groveling was required on fallon’s end as juno’s always been quite eager to prove herself as a responsible guardian. not that she had been quite successful; the band had certainly been drunk or high, or both even. still, fallon’s loved live music ever since. even tonight, juno taking too long to take her leave, running into noa, she’s in an unusually generous mood. she clears her throat, like it takes effort to expel what she says next. “the show was good.” it’s the closest thing to a compliment that noa will get from her.

2nd heaven’s homecoming was less of a cause for celebration for fallon, seeing as their return meant dealing with noa’s moods at work again. despite that, she and juno had shown up to the concert, though it was more in support of birdie than anything. fallon would hardly admit it but she’s played the record in her car a few times. of course, she’s careful to turn the volume low when she nears the strip.  fight club’s mostly cleared out but juno’s still inside, chatting with monty and definitely also flirting though she’ll feign ignorance if fallon implies anything of the sort. there’s only so many signals a person can send before they have to admit that the intended recipient is adamant about not receiving them. so fallon’s outside, smoking a cigarette, waiting it out. when noa exits the building, he’s clearly in a mood which means he’s also looking for a target. at first, she says nothing. “shift or not, you’re still bugging me so what does it matter?”

fallon shrugs, lets his deflection catch this time. even his laugh doesn’t sound fully like himself so she doesn’t want to push more than she needs to. “it’s been a rough night. gotta get my comfort where i can. admit it, it’s therapeutic.” it’s not an apology but fallon wouldn’t accept one anyway. just because he normally tells her everything doesn’t mean fallon’s entitled to it. he’s allowed to have secrets, allowed to keep some things just for himself. besides, these are all things she understands already. her usually icy expression softens, melts just the first layer. “i know you did.” in the grand scheme of things, fallon’s feelings are the last thing he should worry about. they’ll be okay, they always are. “huh,” she mutters under her breath. it’s not that she thought ana was incapable of caring for other people; she’s always had friends. she just didn’t expect that one of them would be victor. fallon didn’t realize people could still do that— do something that surprises her. “well, whenever you change your mind, i’ll be there to dig the grave.”

it was embarrassing ruining easy and victor's moment. it was painful to purposefully hurt easy in retaliation, in order to push away how seeing them kiss made her feel. and to now be confronted by fallon— ana would almost prefer to be murdered. she hoped another drink would suppress the memories, but apparently this problem will continue to follow her around all night. she could’ve avoided so many of these awkward conversations had she walked in on anyone else. ana credits herself for being perfect, even her timing is spot on. it's a blessing and a curse. fallon steps forward, ana steps back. she’s sure the rest of the group will hear her screams if it came to that, so she doesn’t panic just yet. “rings a bell,” she admits, cheeks immediately burning red. there is a small part of ana that can’t help but be jealous of easy and fallon’s friendship. fallon knows. they seem to be completely honest about who they are with each other. and here she is, no judgements and whole-heartedly advocating for him. would her friends do the same? “and he told you,” the only thing ana thinks to do when made aware of such strong bond, that isn’t hers, is to challenge it, “does this mean we are telling people?”

for all the ups and downs they’ve seen each other through, easy’s always known how to take care of himself. even the situation at hand doesn’t need fallon’s intervention (if anything, it only makes things even more messy), but it’s different with this. it’s hard to throw easy; normally, he’s so sure of himself, so willing to share every part of himself with her. she wants his whole life to be like that— easy, just like his name.  she’s probably not the person who could do that for him though. still, she’ll make her best attempt. fallon doesn’t have a card to play but as a rule, she doesn’t beg so the idea of admitting defeat makes her chest hurt. ana is a formidable match; she’s always known how to strike where it hurts most. she raises her chin, refusing to shrink back from the other. “sure. do whatever you like.” her lips press together in a thin line. “anyway, that’s my mistake. i forgot you never cared much for anyone else’s feelings.” it’s not what she wants to say. what she wants to say dies in her throat.

a part of him knows the answer before asking the question. yet, there's that hopeful part of him that one of these days, fallon is going to have the time of her life at one of these get togethers. he doesn't know what it would take to make that happen, but he's determined. after all, if not everyone is having fun, then it can't be that great of a party. right? plus, it's not like he's the one that threw the party. while he can have fun talking to a wall, he takes no offense to her blunt response. instead, he focuses on the second part and nods a bit. "of course. just let me know when you want to leave after making your rounds and you have a designated seat. shotgun so no one else bothers you." maybe that'll annoy some others, but he doesn't care.

for all her faults and predisposition towards pessimism, fallon can be grateful when it counts. her features soften, going from irritation to something a bit more neutral. she nods her head in response. “thanks.” even at jamir’s mercy, that’s still the most she can muster up though it’s more effort than she’ll extend to anybody else. normally, fallon’s selfish enough to ask if he can bring her home right then but it feels more burdensome, especially with the storm. she can stick it out for another hour before she gets home. or she’ll make a really good attempt to, at least. “what did you bring to the party?” fallon asks, feeling a little obligated to make some kind of conversation since she’s just asked him for a favor.

it’s dramatic but this is probably one of the worst nights in fallon’s life. each hour has presented a new complication in what was already a less than ideal post-work evening and there’s still the matter of her missing tire chains. now that it seems like no one’s going home anytime soon, the room’s been drained of most of the excitement it held just a few hours ago; now fallon can stand to be there. her back is pressed against the wall when she catches milo approaching in her periphery. she pretends not to notice him until he speaks up. “well, you’re tall, lots of meat on your bones,” she says, finally turning her head and giving him a once over. “you probably won’t be first, since other people like you. but i wouldn’t count on making it through the night.”