102 - A Message Made From Bones

6

Her eyes flare, and Jay has half a mind to challenge her further—his Slayer still rages, and so does hers. Let them tussle if it'll alleviate the tension sharpening her entire being.

"I'll only say this once, and then I will prove it, Illyria," he continues, looking at her with equal intensity. "I have not, am not, and will never use the Slayer Dreamscape to manipulate your feelings. To use it at all the way I did was a mistake, and I wish I didn't let Kai convince me to do it. She was desperate for a distraction; we weren't even sure if it would work. It's not an excuse, I know, but that is why I did it—plain and simple. And I am sorry for... for the confusion it must've caused."

And maybe it is the apology, or the fact that he hasn't flinched under her scrutiny, her quiet wrath, that makes her break his stare. Her shoulders loosen; somewhere deep inside, she has to know he's telling the truth, that he's just as vulnerable to her in the dreamscape as she is to him.

She's silent long enough that he says, "I shouldn't have visited you again... but I was... impatient."

Lily finally sighs, the rest of that tension melting out of her body. "If I really didn't want you barging back into my dreamscape, I could've locked you out." Her eyes slide to his, and in them, he realizes the truth in that statement. Lily said she wasn't well-versed in the Dreamscape, but she had to have figured out how to do that much after the first time.

"Question two," she starts before the quiet goes on too long, "you say you visited to check on me—why didn't you leave when you saw that I was fine?"

He opens his mouth, then closes it. He doesn't know how to word it any differently, so he merely says, "To see what sorts of things you experienced under Buffy's command," and prays to whatever gods are listening that Lily understands his raw answer is the start of rebuilding what trust he ruined with her; prays that she won't see it in the worst way.

But her face tightens, and Jay notices her nails digging into her palms—realizing that's where the faint, crescent-shaped scars decorating them come from.

"If you want a history lesson," she responds tersely, not deigning to look at him—and he gets the feeling that it's because she's fighting the urge to slap him square across his face—"all you had to do was ask."

True—Lily had offered their services. But he had no choice but to turn them away.

"I didn't have the power to allow you to stay." He dips his head in shame. "My mother is only allowing you here now because you saved Kai. Her head might explode if she hears one more thing about Buffy." He gives the basement door another sidelong glance, where Lenora is downstairs with Oz and can come up anytime. He can already imagine the look on her face if she sees them together—but he doesn't give two shits what his mother thinks. He just hopes Lily will leave to take care of her temper. Or at least tightens the leash on it.

He is careful not to meet her gaze as he drags them to the piano keys. "Though I tried not to pry, I did feel what it was like," he says softly.

"Feel what?" Lily's voice is still stern, the irritation palpable.

"What the Organization means to you. I felt, from you and what felt like a hundred other psyches, that my mother's opinions are rather biased," he finishes eventually. It's not exactly what he was about to say, but it was in the same realm.

Lily rolls her eyes. "I'm sure you had to have known that we couldn't be as bad as your mother says."

Jay shakes his head—though Lily is right. "I'm the only one with the visions; it's not like I could've proved it."

The slayer studies his face, saying nothing, and he continues, "It surprised me to learn that you were actually an interesting person."

He realizes after it leaves his lips that it sounds somewhat backhanded, but color still flushes Lily's cheeks. She dips her chin, her sheet of black hair falling in her face, and turns her hands over each other in her lap.