Chapter Text
When Buffy knocks on Jenny’s apartment door, Jenny hurries to open it. She’s spent the last hour cleaning and wishing she lived somewhere else. Somewhere better. She’s seen the clothing Buffy wears to school and knows they currently exist in different social classes. Normally when Jenny thinks of her apartment there’s a little thrill at having her own space to fill with whatever she chooses, no matter how small said apartment may be. But at the prospect of having a guest come over, Jenny’s homey, good enough little studio suddenly feels lackluster and unimpressive and maybe even embarrassing.
On the surface, Jenny exudes confidence. She’s a hell of an arguer, and if needed she can silence people who irritate her with one carefully crafted sentence or sometimes just a glare. But it gets harder to keep up this facade when she’s around someone Jenny desperately wants to be liked by, and Buffy seems to have fallen into that category. Deep down, Jenny’s actually insecure and the kind of person that people like Cordelia walked all over in high school. Jenny’s seen how well Buffy and Cordelia get along and knows that the only reason Buffy isn’t just as popular is because she got chosen to be the Slayer. It was chance, fate, random bad luck that relegated Buffy to her current social status at Sunnydale High. Jenny, on the other hand, has never been popular because she’s Jenny.
“Hey,” Jenny says excitedly when she opens the door and finds Buffy standing there, smiling back at her. “Come on in.”
“Thanks,” Buffy says, following Jenny into her small apartment. She watches as Buffy looks around, seeming to take in her surroundings with interest. If she’s judging Jenny’s small, slightly overstuffed space, she isn’t showing it. Jenny looks around and tries to see it from Buffy’s eyes: neatly made bed with too many blankets, tiny kitchen with cracked tile, mismatched secondhand furniture. Jenny repainted the walls after moving in, choosing a forest green so deep it’s nearly blue because as much as her wardrobe is full of neutrals she likes a little color in her life. The apartment feels crowded (but hopefully not cramped) due to the multiple shelves Jenny dragged in here to cram full of books, crystals, and the bones and stones Jenny uses for divination, among other things.
“Wow,” Buffy says approvingly, “technopagan central. This is like the library except way cooler.”
Jenny relaxes slightly, sitting on the couch and gesturing for Buffy to do the same. “Thanks,” she says. “Make yourself at home. I’ve ordered a pizza and there’s drinks in the fridge. And cookies, I have cookies.” Remembering this, Jenny goes to fetch them from the countertop, returning with the package.
Buffy gives her a small smile, “Okay.”
“Speaking of the library, I wanted to let you know that I did start doing some research into Slayer history. Um, you know, looking for others who aren’t—er, weren’t —girls. I’ve mostly been confined to sources I have access to outside of the school library, like the internet, a-and books, I have some books too,” Jenny continues, hurrying to her desk and starting to dig through the stack of books and pile of notes she’d taken so she had things to share with Buffy.
Buffy sits up straighter, excited. “Oh. Um, I mean, wow. Did you—”
“I haven’t found much yet,” Jenny admits, wanting to be honest up front though she does hastily add, “but I’m only just getting started. So don’t worry. If there’s answers, I’m sure we can find them.”
“Great! I mean, that’s great.”
“It might take some time though,” Jenny acknowledges, returning to the couch with the research materials she has. It isn’t much, but it’s more than the nothing that Buffy was convinced existed before. Especially after whatever her first Watcher had told her. “It’s more difficult since I don’t have access to any of Rupert’s sources. Those would be some of the primary ones since the people who wrote them actually knew the previous Slayers—though I wouldn’t put it past those Watchers to have misrepresented things since you’re living proof that they already have—but I didn’t want to involve Rupert in the research without asking you first.”
“Um—”
“Wow, that completely came out wrong,” Jenny interrupts to add. “There is no pressure whatsoever to tell Rupert anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m sure we can find answers on our own, if there are any sources that aren’t controlled by the Council to be found. Or it doesn’t have to be we! I mean, I-I can find them! There’s no pressure to help me research of course, since you’re already busy researching for school and demons and then slaying the demons so I don’t want to—”
“Ms. Calendar,” Buffy says softly, having scooted closer on the couch and put her hand over Jenny’s to stop her from anxiously reordering papers. “Or is Ms. wrong? Since it’s only for girls,” Buffy says, frowning. “I’ve never thought about that before. Would you—”
“Ms. Calendar’s fine. But you can call me Jenny.”
The corner of Buffy’s mouth quirks up into a smile. “Jenny, then. Look, not that I’m not grateful, but you really don’t have to do all this.”
Jenny’s hopes fall but she tries not to show it. “I’m trying too hard, aren’t I?” She laughs awkwardly.
“I’ve never had anyone try at all before,” Buffy admits quietly, staring down at the stack of papers, now wrinkled and bent from all of Jenny’s nervous fidgeting. Rupert would have a fit. “I mean, maybe that’s not fair of me to say. Giles didn’t completely freak out, I just thought he did. And maybe he’d be okay with it, with me, I mean, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve just been too scared to bring it up again to find out. And I haven’t even given Willow and Xander a chance to try. It’s just that every time I’ve tried in the past…”
“It never went well,” Jenny supplies.
“To understate it,” Buffy agrees. “So this, everything you’re doing for me…it’s pretty much the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Buffy’s eyes are warm, starry.
Jenny waves her off, “It’s really not much. Honest. Besides, you deserve this,” Jenny promises, and Buffy has to glance away. Jenny decides not to push the issue.
“So, not that I’m not grateful, but…You seem kind of…Stressed,” Buffy concludes with a little laugh and Jenny joins in. “I mean, I have people in my life who also enjoy doing research, so I’m used to it, but they’re normally more…excited about it. You got a little…” Buffy’s obviously teasing, but Jenny still feels embarrassed.
“Sorry,” Jenny apologizes reflexively.
Buffy’s mouth quirks. “It’s no big. Definitely not apology worthy. You didn’t even do anything wrong. I mean, what, am I gonna complain that you care about showing me you accept me? Or that maybe I’m not as big a freaky failure of a Slayer as I thought I was?”
“You’re not a freaky failure of a Slayer,” Jenny interjects. “Not even a little bit.”
Buffy smiles again, “Well, I’m certainly not a normal one. But at least I might not be the only non-girl Slayer in history.” Off Jenny’s nervous look, Buffy playfully knocks her shoulder into Jenny’s. “Or I might be the very first. The one and only, as far as we can tell. But if I am, I’ll be okay. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I do have some experience with that sort of thing,” Buffy says with a wry smile.
“I did notice that,” Jenny says teasingly. “I know you probably had a lifetime of feeling different.” At least, that’s how Jenny felt. Weird. An outcast. Like something was wrong with her. “And I’m sure becoming the Slayer didn’t help that. I just wanted you to know that you’re not wrong or alone or different in a bad way.”
“It might take a little while to absorb in my brain but: message received.”
Jenny relaxes a little at that. It’s important to her to try and make sure Buffy has an easier time with all of this than Jenny did. She can’t fix everything—she certainly can’t control how anyone else reacts to Buffy—but she can try to make sure Buffy doesn’t struggle with how she feels about her own identity.
Buffy continues, “And I just wanted you to know that it’s okay to like, sit down. Relax. Chat. We can just hang out, you know? Like friends, maybe?” Suddenly, Buffy seems to realize her hand is still holding Jenny’s and she retracts it, face flushing. “I mean, we are friends, right?” She asks, sounding unsure for the first time all evening.
Jenny exhales with relief. This entire time, Buffy’s been just as insecure as she has. She’s just better at hiding it. This makes Jenny feel significantly less nervous, though a little embarrassed. She should be the one reassuring the sixteen year old, not the other way around. “Of course we’re friends,” Jenny says all in a rush, the words coming out too fast and jumbled together.
Buffy smiles at her, reaching for the package of cookies. “You probably don’t need to hear this from me because you have a lot of friends on the internet who you probably hear this stuff from all the time, but, for the record, I think you’re, like, the coolest.” Buffy breaks the cookie in half and Jenny realizes she should’ve set down plates and napkins but she doesn’t want to get up now and interrupt. “For the longest time, I thought there was something wrong with me. And I really, really wanted to change it. I hated it.” Buffy ducks her head, “I hated me. But then, there’s you in my life, and you’re like me in some of the ways I hated, but I don’t hate those things when they’re part of you. I actually kinda love those parts of you.” Buffy gives a shy half-smile. “So I started thinking maybe I don’t need to hate or change these parts of myself after all. If I can grow up to be like you, that would be…kind of amazing.” Buffy pauses then adds, “And not just because it’ll be a miracle if I manage to grow up at all without dying getting in the way. Again. And wow, I’m really rambling over here. Feel free to jump in anytime,” Buffy laughs awkwardly.
Jenny feels like she’s going to cry, blinking rapidly against a sudden sting of tears in her eyes. She’s come a long way towards accepting herself, but if she’s being honest, sometimes she still struggles. Life would be so much easier if she weren’t non-binary. But right now, sitting in her cozy little apartment in the life Jenny is making for herself, Buffy looking at her like she’s in awe of Jenny, she wouldn’t change a single damn thing about herself.
“I do have friends on the internet who I can be myself around,” Jenny agrees, “and they say lots of nice things. But none of them have ever said anything quite like that. So, thank you.” Maybe they can reassure and support each other. After all, isn’t that what friends are for? Cautiously, like she’s scared of being rejected, Buffy scoots closer, leaning her head on Jenny’s shoulder. Jenny wraps an arm around her. “For the record, I think you’re the coolest too.”
“Well, duh. I’m way cool.” Jenny can tell Buffy’s smiling but she says, “Maybe none of your other friends have ever mentioned wanting to be you when they’re grown up because they’re already grown up.”
“Is that an age joke?”
“No,” Buffy says, in a way that very much sounds like yes, smiling wider.
“Good. ‘Cause if you start making age jokes, I might have to punish you to at least pretend to be defending Rupert. If I’m old, he’s ancient.”
Buffy giggles, though she fights to keep a straight face. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” Jenny insists. “Maybe I won’t buy snacks next time.”
Rather than continuing to play along, Buffy’s smile goes wobbly for a second. “There’s gonna be a definite next time?”
“As long as you’re not ignoring responsibilities and going to get in trouble with your mom or Rupert, you’re welcome anytime. And you can stay as long as you want. Oh! That reminds me, if you want any, I got movies.” Jenny leans to the side to retrieve the movies she rented from the table without dislodging Buffy. Unfortunately, she has to a moment later when the pizza arrives.
The rest of the night is gender-discussion free. They talk and laugh and polish off the entire pizza and half of the cookies. Yet, based on the way Buffy finds every possible excuse short of asking to sleep over to linger, Jenny can tell how meaningful this is to her, even when they’re no longer talking about anything deep or emotional. Jenny can imagine how it must feel to finally find a safe haven at that age where you can unapologetically be yourself. How joyful and life-affirming, yet also how difficult to leave. When the rest of the world is forcing you into these roles you’re chafing inside, a friendship like this is impactful beyond words. Jenny’s happy to be this person for Buffy. When she was growing up, she had a cousin who could relate, but there were no adults looking out for them, making them feel safe and accepted. Jenny had to wait until she was an adult to find a space where she could truly be herself. And since moving to Sunnydale, she lost all of those real life friends. She hasn’t come out to anyone else in Sunnydale, especially not the faculty and staff at Sunnydale High, out of fear of losing her job. So sitting here with Buffy, feeling seen for who she actually is for the first time in a long time?
Jenny can’t even pretend this is all for Buffy’s sake. It’s not just Buffy who needs this. Jenny needs it too.