entrancelogs | open } she's had her fill of destinies and that's why she flew away

This isn't how it was supposed to go. Absolutely no part of this is how it was supposed to go.

"She's..." Tim got around it, somehow. Evading the question doesn't count as a lie, it seems like, and Jay stutters as he tries to put together a sentence that will work. "She's...a guy I knew's girlfriend's...roommate."

He shoots Tim a glare. "And I 'think you know' because--" Dammit. "--I don't think you'd put that much effort into hiding it if..." He can't say what happened on the tape, not in front of Georgia. "...if the easy answer was all that happened."

But that's not enough, and more comes spilling out unbidden. He shouldn't have started the sentence the way he did.

"And if you don't know, that means the answer's not in Wonderland, and I don't want to..." He can't get out of this one. "I don't want to die again not knowing."

Fuck. Fuck her, and fuck Jay for going along with this. He can't hide. Not from either of them. They're a menace together, jabbing the questions in where they hurt the most, because you missed someone and that won't mean anything, anything at all, because they're digging into things that shouldn't be unearthed. Because he tried, he tried, didn't he? He tried to keep her safe. From Alex. From Jay and his prying eyes and his fucking camera and his earnest intent.

"You - "

No.

If he starts talking, there's no guarantee he'll be able to stop himself. He might just keep going, and if it all rushes out, it'll all of it be for - nothing.

He's backing away from the pair of them, reaching to run a hand through hair he doesn't have. Shaking his beaked head, frantically, before pinning George with a look that falls somewhere between pained and horrified.

"You promised."

Her eyes widen at that and she stands up, glaring at Tim. Her world is important to her, and the idea that she's breaking it actually rankles. "Oh, don't give me that! You're still not under fucking investigation! I cast the spell before I even saw you cause I thought it would be nice to have ten fucking minutes with no one lying to me and for once, I had the means to make it happen. God, is asking you anything at all forbidden by that stupid promise? Is there anything at all that's safe to ask about?"

She wasn't trying to take advantage. She had no end goal in mind, not this time. It would be nice to keep the spell for when she does need it, but she doesn't foresee any particularly key investigations happening while everyone's elves or whatever. She just wanted to know no one was lying to her for a change.

But then there's Jay, who had clearly been waiting for this opportunity. Who clearly has made no such promise to Tim, who wants the truth and is willing to push until he gets it. She can't exactly blame him. In a lot of ways, she was the same before she died. In some ways, she's the same now, or at least she hopes she is, if something important comes up. But Jay, Jay has questions, Jay is pushing Tim even as he tries to evade and lie for himself. The suspicions that have been swirling in George's head finally coalesce and she turns on him.

"Were you the one who published Tim's medical files?" There's a dangerous note in her voice (intimidate 29) as she meets whatever it is he has that passes for eyes. Her eyes aren't what they used to be, but they're creepy in their own right now. She can use that.

At her words, Jay's stomach drops.

"Yes."

It's out before he can stop it, barely more than a whisper, and he knows he can't just leave it at that. He starts to ramble an excuse--an explanation, and if Georgia's spell drags more out of him than he intended, he doesn't notice.

"Look, I mean, it wasn't--I didn't think I was gonna see him again, and then someone--" He shoots Tim a meaningful look. "--someone gave them to me. They left the files out for me to find, on purpose, and they were--were marked, like, like they were trying to tell me something."

He's pacing, now, staring at the ground as he talks.

"I had to keep a permanent record of what was there, in case something happened to the files. And...and this isn't, this doesn't fix it, but whoever gave me the files redacted a--a lot. So it was just the things they wanted me to see.

I mean, maybe I...maybe I shouldn't've just...posted all of it, but at the time it felt like--like it was just part of everything else."

Oh, well, that just makes it all peachy, doesn't it? Just because she's equal-opportunity here doesn't make any of it justified, particularly not while Jay is there. And Jay keeps talking, keeps digging himself under the ground, and it's all Tim can do to keep himself from burying his face in his hands right then and there.

He can't explain any of it. Maybe if it was just him, him and George, it would be fine, and he could live with it. He's had his boundaries and his privacy breached too many times to count at this point; what would one more be?

But then there's Jay.

"Shut up!" His voice tears, hoarsely. "Just - shut up, Jay!"

"It's you. You're the fuck-up." Of course he is. Wonderland doesn't do coincidences, and Tim obviously has conflicting emotions about Jay. Clearly he cares about him, and not just because he blames himself for Jay's death. He also seems half-terrified of him, or of what he might find out. It all adds up all too clearly, so clearly she'd wonder how she didn't put it together before except she's pretty sure she had. She just wasn't willing to let herself make accusations until she had proof. And here it is. Jay is the unprofessional, amateur mess that left Tim terrified of George for all the wrong reasons for so long. The reason he's still terrified of her, or maybe terrified of the combination of her and Jay.

And he's still trying to protect Jay. Fucking incredible. She'd wonder how he'd still consider Jay a friend after all that, but well. She's still friends with Buffy. Shit's complicated.

Still, she's been waiting for this chance for a while. Ever since Tim told her what had happened the last time someone found out his secret.

She glares at Jay. "You already told me you're not a journalist, so it seems like a waste of time to ask if you've heard of journalistic integrity. But I feel like basic human decency shouldn't be too much to ask. What the fuck? He's your friend."

'He's your friend.'

Jay's mind locks up.

Is he? Is that what they are?

'He's your friend.'

It doesn't make sense. They don't trust each other. Tim lied to him and hid things from him and became something else and dug his thumbs into Jay's throat. Jay kept secrets, told him it was all just for a movie until Tim's fist connected with his cheekbone, knocking him out of alignment, making him drop the camera. It kept rolling, though, and it did until Jay died. He told the viewers everything he knew. He had to.

'He's your friend.'

It's not right.

But you can't tell lies here.

'It's you. You're the fuck-up.'

Jay doesn't deny it. He can't. It's the truth.

He's your friend.

It's George who says it aloud. And it's the truth, or she assumes it is, because she can say it and apparently mean it. And what's he supposed to say to that? What the hell's he supposed to say to the fact that Jay's standing rigid, clammed up, frozen on the spot?

He's your friend.

He's your friend.

Well, that would fucking explain it, wouldn't it? Why Jay was just another casualty to Tim's name. Why he ended up one of trail of bodies that Tim leaves behind in his wake. Because he counted as his friend on some level, and that's what happens to people who call themselves Tim's friends. It's what'll happen to George, eventually, because she called him a friend once too, and his mind had devolved into a wordless, screaming panic that he couldn't talk himself down from.

Tim's eyes drag shut. The pressure in his chest, compressing his lungs, is painful.

"You know?" The words are trembling as badly as his shoulders, as though wracked by an invisible gale. "God fucking forbid any of us have a single damn thing to hide from you, Georgia."

He turns, and he starts to walk. He needs -

He needs out. Gone. Away. He needs shelter from this, from you're the fuck-up and he's your friend and the absolute silence from Jay that's more telling than anything in the world.

It won't shut away the cold lump in his throat, the heat in his eyes, the tension that vibrates down every damn nerve in his body.

But it's a start.

She misses her sunglasses. Her face doesn't give away much even without them, but there's enough of a flinch that it's not impossible to read. She doesn't look at Tim, though. She keeps her focus on Jay.

"I hope you understand that that shit won't fly on my site. We tell the truth, but we aren't a tabloid. People are allowed their privacy."

Jay won't look at her. His eyes flick up briefly, following Tim, and then focus on the ground again.

"I wasn't doing it for...for hits or views or anything. I just--" It's hard enough explaining things like this without 'magical' influence. "--I just needed help figuring out what to do next."

It was a message, and it was all he had at that point. He was alone. He needed to talk to somebody about it.

That's not what they're talking about now, though, is it?

"Look, I won't...Everything goes by you before it gets published, right?"

Please don't let this turn her against him. Please don't let this cost him his job. (He doesn't even have the job yet, a part of him scolds. Just an offer, and an offer can be rescinded at any time.)

"So--so you can toss out anything if it doesn't meet your standards."

"That was always going to happen." Jay's job isn't in as much danger as he thinks, mostly because Georgia was never hiring him for his ability. She was hiring him to keep an eye on him. Even before she'd pieced things together, she'd known he might be trouble. But she's in no hurry to assure him his position is safe. Not right now when she's busy raking him over the coals. She stares at him, sizing him up as she takes his measure.

"You've never had a real team, have you?"

She doesn't think about the ways she's lucky very often. Being assassinated and cloned and experimented on tends to skew your view of your life pretty negatively. But there are some ways she is very lucky. She has Shaun. Even when they were separated, him thinking she's dead and her trapped in the CDC, she knew she was loved, and she knew when she found him they'd be unstoppable again. She had Shaun, and she had Buffy, and they had their handpicked team of betas, and her parents may have been terrible, but they did make sure she got the best journalism training available, even if it was mostly to make sure she didn't besmirch the brand.

Jay clearly didn't have any of that. No wonder he's a fuck up.

She huffs out a breath. Yelling at him might be fun, but it's hardly productive.

"Please attempt to show the barest minimum common sense. I am available if you need help or advice, but I'm not here to babysit you. I don't want to have to reject things."

"Of course, sure, I'll--I'll try my best."

The offer's still on. Somehow. Somehow. He can't screw this up. At least 'I'll try my best' is true enough that he's able to say it.

"And--and no, it's just been me, most of the time...that I can remember. And Tim, for a few months." Again, he looks up, staring in the general direction where Tim started walking. This feels too familiar, in the worst way. ('Do me a favor and stay out of my life!') He unconsciously shuffles in the same direction. "But that--that didn't really...pan out..."

It's an evasion, but not quite a lie.

"Sounds complicated." And while his evasion isn't subtle, she doesn't need the details enough to push. Personal issues aren't her business. It's how she's managed to keep her own personal life a secret for so long and not felt too much like a hypocrite for it. Tim and Jay's relationship doesn't matter to her past how it might affect Jay's work.

"I'm never alone. I have Shaun. Nothing but death can tear us apart, and here not even that." There's no danger that things with Shaun won't pan out. Having him is the one thing in the world she can be confident about. "You're going to need to learn to work as part of a team. When you get stuck, you ask for help. And not by posting confidential material."

Jay nearly laughs. The last couple times he asked for help went great, didn't they? And the last time he responded to somebody else's call for help, that definitely wasn't a trap designed to take advantage of his good intentions. Asking someone for help requires you to trust them, at least a bit, and evidence so far shows that trusting people's a terrible idea. Expecting other people to trust him might be even worse.

The bitterness probably shows on his face. Jay hopes it doesn't, though.

"Sure. Okay. I'll--" He wants to say I'll try, but it gets caught in his throat. Right. No lies. "I understand."

"Do you?" She frowns at him, staring at him with a focus so intent that if she had the option, she would flay him open with her eyes. "Don't make me regret this."

She doesn't want to hear what his true response to that question is. He doesn't know if he'll make her regret it or not yet, and hearing he's going into this thinking he will would bias her against him even more than she already is. Instead of waiting for a reply, she turns and stalks off.

The zone of truth remains for another few minutes after she's gone.

open } she's had her fill of destinies and that's why she flew away

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