(no subject)

[jonathanparagon]

"Andrew? You in here?"

Jonathan peers around the door without waiting for an answer, relaxing when he sees his friend. "Hey."

Comments

[jonathanparagon]

"What happened to the knife?"

Jonathan asks it as quietly, as gently as he can, and that alone means he can only be talking about one knife.

[stilljustandrew]

"The --"

There's a half a beat before it registers, and the color slowly drains out of his face.

"The, uh." He swallows. "That knife?"

[jonathanparagon]

"That one," Jonathan confirms calmly. "I need to know where it is."

[stilljustandrew]

He frowns, trying to remember.

(Trying not to freak out.)

"How come?"

[jonathanparagon]

"I met someone at the bar. Weyland. Sort of a god. And he thinks he can ... help me ... but he needs materials to do it, mostly things with emotional significance. He said that would go a long way."

[stilljustandrew]

"... Weyland," he says slowly. "Weyland the Smith?"

[jonathanparagon]

"Yes," he confirms simply. "We talked for quite a while, worked out a deal. He's going to help just for the challenge and the materials."

[stilljustandrew]

"What ... what's he going to do? To help."

[jonathanparagon]

"Give me non-aging immortality," Jonathan says bluntly. "And as a failsafe, if anything does happen, he says he can tie me to Milliways so I go there after. He was talking about unimprinted souls he's got - I didn't ask too deeply into that - to make sure I don't just end."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew stares at him.

Low, and unsteadily: "What's it going to cost."

[jonathanparagon]

"Not ... not anything like the last time did," is the quiet and oddly hesitant response. "I'm going to make it watertight this time."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah." His throat feels tight; his voice sounds hoarse in his own ears. "Read the fine print. Double read the fine print. Then turn it over and look for the other fine print, because there's gonna be some --"

The spring-clip is bending in his fingers, unnoticed.

[jonathanparagon]

Jonathan notices, and leans over to wrap his hand around Andrew's. "You're going to break it. I promise."

[stilljustandrew]

(I broke it)

He swallows hard, sets the clip aside with exaggerated care. His hand closes into a convulsive knot as soon as it's away.

"Whatever deal he's offering," he says, "get it in writing, get someone to help us go over it -- we might miss something --"

[jonathanparagon]

"In writing," Jonathan agrees, "and nothing final until we're both happy with it. You know I wouldn't go over your head."

[stilljustandrew]

He blinks up at Jonathan.

"It's not ..." Slowly. "I, I'm not in charge of you, I know that. It's your call. I'm just ... I don't -- I don't want anything worse to happen."

[jonathanparagon]

"You're not in charge," Jonathan says calmly. "But your opinion matters to me more than anybody's. And you've got a point."

[stilljustandrew]

Do I? Or am I just scared?

It could be both. He knows that.

"Who do we get to go over it? Who's got a good eye for weasel words?"

[jonathanparagon]

"Spike?" Jonathan suggests. "He's been around the block a few dozen times."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew rubs his chin. "Or Gunn," he offers. "He was a lawyer."

[jonathanparagon]

"Well. Kind of. Does he still have that knowledge since we turned against Wolfram and Hart?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Some of it, I think? Like, not the encyclopedic knowledge they dumped in his head, but a really good baseline awareness."

[jonathanparagon]

"True. He's probably the best person to ask first, then."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew nods. Takes a shaky breath.

"I don't know where the knife ended up," he says, "but I'll find it."

[jonathanparagon]

"We'll find it," Jonathan corrects, and he's looking at Andrew with tremendous warmth. "In this together, just like always."

[stilljustandrew]

That makes him smile, even if the smile shakes a little too.

"Last I saw it," he says, "Buffy had it. I don't know if ... if she took it with, or if anybody else did."

[jonathanparagon]

"Do you feel like you can ask?" It's an honest question. "Or we could try locating it. If it did get brought out, it's probably somewhere in Council headquarters, right?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah," he says. "I, I'll ask."

A beat.

"If nobody packed it that last day, though ... you know what happened to Sunnydale, right?"

[jonathanparagon]

"Yeah." He looks down. "But it might still be under there somewhere, even if it's in pieces. I'll dig it out if I have to."

[stilljustandrew]

"You mean we will." Quietly.

[jonathanparagon]

"We will," Jonathan echoes, then reaches across decisively to clasp Andrew's hand. There's a lot more in the gesture than he can voice in words.

[stilljustandrew]

He stretches his hand out to grasp Jonathan's, grips hard.

(His left hand. It's been a long time since he's consciously thought about the feel of the knife in it.)

[jonathanparagon]

Jonathan squeezes just as hard.

"Thank you. I thought you might... argue."

[stilljustandrew]

"I wanna talk to Weyland." Very steady, almost grim. "Before you go through with this. I want to be sure this isn't gonna be another bad deal like we got with Q."

[jonathanparagon]

Jonathan considers this for a long moment, studying Andrew's face then nods. "Okay. I don't think it is, Weyland isn't known as a trickster like Q, but... okay."

[stilljustandrew]

It isn't even trickery that he's afraid of, exactly. It's more ... missing something important. Something that should have been obvious.

There's always a price.

"I hope it works."

[jonathanparagon]

"So do I. But there's no reason to think it won't, that I can see, and..." He smiles very faintly. "I need to believe it will. Gotta stay positive, and all that."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah," he agrees, more firmly. "Absolutely."

And if it turns out there is some hidden price ... well.

He'll just have to do what he can to make sure he's the one who pays it, that's all.