Wiser

## Meta

**Timing:** Same day as the end of "No One Older"

**Setting:** Charlie's suite in the Tam residence

## Text

Jackson, armed with a tidy stack of cue cards, approaches the Tam residence, takes a deep breath, and knocks.

Juliet opens the door.

"I come bearing an apology, a willingness to grovel, and a dumb llama plushie because I am a drama llama and an idiot."

"Why is there a teddy bear on your elbow?"

"I'm a nerd, it's from /*Firefly*, and I haven't been home since yesterday morning so I borrowed a friend's clothes which turned out to be mine."

"I hope your apology's as good as that story." Juliet jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "Charlie's out back gardening. Gate's unlocked."

"Thanks."

Juliet closes the door.

Jackson heads around the side of the house.

In a sunny patch of backyard, Charlie kneels beside a torn up, meter by two-and-a-half-meter patch of sod.

Just big enough for a Jackson-sized body bag.

"Hey, Charlie," he squeaks.

She keeps attacking it with a trowel.

Get over yourself, Jones, not everything's about you.

Jackson swallows. "You have a second?"

She doesn't sigh, but stands, peeling off her gloves and dusting off her trousers with a disdain that says loud and clear she's got other things to do and would rather not waste her time with the likes of Jackson.

"I totally deserve that," he says.

"Get on with it."

"Right." Jackson digs out his— "This is, uh, for you." Offers the bag.

Charlie doesn't accept.

Jackson tucks it behind his leg. "Uh, yea. Even if you did want it, it's a dumb plushie and probably wouldn't like dirt much."

"Is that all?"

Jackson erps. "An apology, followed by grovelling, if you want to hear it."

She gives him an annoyed, exasperated, disgusted(?) eye roll. "Fine."

"So, that's a yes?"

"Sure, whatever." Snaps impatiently, "Speak."

Jackson shuffles—cue cards. "Dammit." Fishes them from the bag, clears his throat. "Charlie, I fucked up and I'm sorry. I should never have overreacted like I did and I regret doing so because it had absolutely nothing to do with me, everything to do with you, the last thing you needed was another attack, and I should've been there for you and on your side." Next card. "I was only thinking of myself and was so focused on myself and what our age difference meant for me that I never considered you and your feelings and what being nineteen means for you." New card. "I moped at my friend's house—Lily—and she suggested I apologize for bringing relationships into it and potentially scaring you, but that didn't seem to be what I needed to apologize for." Card the Fourth. "I thought, 'Charlie's not afraid of anything' even though social anxiety and fearlessness are two completely different things—but I digress—so I got to wondering why Lily might think that, and then ... she's white ... and I'm white, and you're black, and because of that, we've never had to fight for anything nearly as hard as you have." Next card. "I ... I spent my lunch break going through my 'you are a privileged asshole, get over yourself' file—'cause that's what I did, I pulled privilege on you and I swore to myself I would never do that but I did and I am so, so sorry." Looks blankly at his cards. "And I have no idea where I am."

"White male privilege."

"Right, the file, thank you." Shuffles the stack. "I understand why you keep your age quiet; it never occurred to me that you have a hard time getting people to take you seriously even without your age coming into it." Eyes fall to the ground. "Which is where I was actually going to put the privilege bit and now I feel like I'm rubbing it in and I am so sorry about this." Shuffles his cue cards again. "Okay. So I totally get if you want us to end. I want you to know, though, that I will never leave unless you want me to, I will never betray your confidence—I won't tell nor use any of it against you—I will always be your friend, and I swear to you I always and forever will be honoured to be your ally."

A murder crows faintly from her phone.

Charlie checks the messages.

**Jewelz**: it's a decent apology

**Jewelz**: take it under consideration?

"Apology under consideration," says Charlie, tucking her phone into a pocket on her calf.

Jackson sighs with relief. "Thank you." Remembers the bag. "Should I put this inside?"

"No." Pulls her gloves back on.

"Okay."

"This'll take ten more minutes."

"Would you like me to wait with you?"

"Sure."

Jackson unpacks a newspaper-foam-plastic bag situpon. "Would you like me to read out loud?"

"No." A handful of weeds. "Thank you."

Smooths it over the bench, sits upon it. "Then I shall sit here with a book and read in my head."

"Do you /**ever** stop talking?"

"No, and it's a real problem." Grins.

Charlie returns to the patch with a special kind of viciousness.

Jackson powers up his ereader.

The ten minutes passes peacefully.

Charlie sweeps up the weeds, strides to a composter, dumps them in, and returns for the tools. She bats the dirt from her knees fiercely and smacks her gloves together, tossing them in the box with the other tools, and slides the lot under the bench.

"What're you planting?" asks Jackson.

"Plants." Straightens, heads for the door, punches in the combination.

He plays it casual.

"You coming or not?"

Situpon, ereader in backpack, bag in hand, right by the door in two seconds flat.

Charlie motions him in.

"I brought /*Vikram*, /*The Bride with White Hair*, and /*Titanic II*."

She rolls her eyes, passes him on the stairs, and puts her boots away.

"Straight-to-TV disaster movie."

Charlie gives him a Look.

"It's particularly terrible. I also have /*The Phantom Menace* 'cause I know you like Natalie Portman and *The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel*."

"The first one." She grabs a change clothes, closes herself in the washroom.

Jackson sets up the movie as the shower starts up and then busies himself fixing the tissue paper nest of the present.

Charlie asks, "What's with the teddy bear?"

Jackson jumps about a foot in the air with a squeak.

Charlie plunks down on the couch beside him.

Jackson glances at his elbow, subtly taking a deep breath. "It's, ah, from /*Firefly*. Kaylee."

Charlie nods.

"After, uh, yesterday, I went to Lily's like the drama llama I am and moped for so long I missed the last train home." Glances again. "Turns out she stole this jumper from me."

"Hm." Takes—

"Speaking of!" Jackson presents the gift bag. "For you."

Charlie huffs, pulls out the plushie.

"It's a drama llama!" grins Jackson.

Charlie sighs heavily. "It's an alpaca."

"I couldn't find a llama, but they look alike!"

She rolls her eyes but pats its head with a tiny, quiet smile.

"You like it?"

"Under consideration." Puts Drama Llama on the armrest, takes his arm, lies down—

Jackson snags a throw.

—pulls him over her like a blanket.

He hits play, tucks them in, hugs her back.

.

The end credits roll; Jackson peers down at Charlie.

Her skin’s blazing hot (considering she’s lying under him /**and** a blanket, he’s not surprised), she’s still hugging his arm to her chest, and her eyes shine wetly in the half-light.

"I will never hurt you," Jackson promises again, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I will always protect you—"

"Stop talking," Charlie snarls thickly.

"—and I will never, ever leave you."

"Shut. Up."

Jackson settles against her back, hugs her tightly to his chest.

Charlie takes a shuddering breath.

"I think it’s time for bed."

Charlie sits—

Jackson gets off as quickly as he can.

—up, wipes her eyes.

"C’mon."

She lets him pull her to her feet, allows the arm around her shoulders, follows him with shaky, uneven steps to her room.

He helps her from her shirt, manages to get her into a PJ top with minimal pulled joints, gets her to forfeit her pants, and gives her a hand into bed. Jackson gets himself changed in record time, burrows in the other side, and cuddles Charlie as close as he can.

A shuddering breath.

"I love you." Jackson kisses her cheek.

Charlie rolls into his arms, hugs him back.

.

Charlie wakes up under Jackson and two blankets.

Jackson stirs a moment later, shifts his weight and brackets Charlie, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Charlie turns her head and kisses him better and then there’s more kissing and deeper kissing and she /*wants*.

Jackson nips at her jaw, that spot under her ear—

"That’s nice," she gasps.

"Mmhmm." Her neck—

"Are you even awake?"

"Mmhmm." Kisses her throat.

"Jackson, you’re still—"

Cool, clammy hand on her waist.

She tugs his shirt. "Jones, you’re still sleeping."

"‘m awake." He bats her away, kisses her collarbone slides his hand down over her hip

Charlie tries his hair. "Pretty sure you’re not—!”

Cool, clammy fingers in her underwear; Jackson kisses her diaphragm, her abdomen, pulling at her pants—

She lifts her hips, helps, kicks one leg free.

Jackson’s teeth graze her hip, the inside of her thigh—

Charlie bites back a keen; clutches the bedsheet, his hair, /**something**, and then her back arches and she claps a hand over her mouth.

Jackson rolls off her bed, smiling smugly, goes to—gets tangled in a sheet and hits the floor. He’s back on his feet in a second, still smiling, but his eyes are confused, and leaves.

Leave.

Charlie’s heart pounds in her ears.

He’s just going to the washroom.

Probably.

Charlie swallows.

Get. A. Grip.

Charlie pulls her pants and [underwear up], lies back.

Water running.

See? Washroom. He’ll be back in a minute.

A minute later, Jackson shuffles in, drops a book beside her, and rolls onto his side of her bed.

"This is a dictionary."

Jackson hugs her to his chest. "Mmhmm."

"Okay." It’s one of those handbooks with all the example form letters.

Jackson plants a sloppy, scruffy kiss on her cheekbone, yawns, and falls back asleep.

A few hours later, Jackson’s sprawled flat on his back, one arm pinned under her, and Charlie’s played a /**lot** of /*Subway Surfers*.

Jackson yawns, looks around groggily, notices Charlie, and beams. "’re still here."

"Made—" Charlie shifts herself to 'relationship mode’, smiles. "Yea."

Jackson smiles even wider, worms—winces.

A furrow in Charlie's brow.

"Kinda sore." Jackson rolls his shoulder. "Did I fall out of bed or something?"

"You could say that."

Need No One: No One Older (Pt 1) | Time to Think | No One Older (Pt 2) | ****Wiser****