Julio gave in, and Angelus nodded in approval. The boy would be safe in here, and he’d have a ride safely back to his place in the morning. “No problem,” he said to the gratitude.
At the question of coffee, Jasmine noted, “I like it, but they’re all heathens.”
“Satan, thank you.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Heathens,” she stuck by that. “They only drink tea.” Jasmine could drink tea, and she enjoyed it all right, but she preferred coffee. She also knew where to get the best cup, and it didn’t come any store. Now and then she liked to sneak into Torchwood HQ for no reason other than to get a cup of coffee.
“Anyway, I’ll go get a pillow and blanket.”
Jasmine nodded, “Good night, Juls.”
Maya inclined her head, “Good night. Good to meet you.” Angelus followed them part way, paused at the door to the rooms by touching Maya’s shoulder. She looked up and he quietly placed a kiss on her forehead, before walking into his own room.
“Rest well, Juls,” Andrew smiled, though it wavered, not to anything unkind but to something confused, before he followed Angelus into their room.
Angelus returned shortly thereafter with a pillow and blanket for Juls, “You sleep well, mate.” He found it odd that he had the same urge to place a kiss on Julio’s forehead, but he resisted. It was too strange, for he didn’t do that to anyone but Maya, his seal of protection. He didn’t always do it, but now and then, when his own thoughts disturbed him, he did.
Protecting those close to him gave him some peace of mind, even if he wasn’t sure what against.
He retreated back to his room to find Andrew already in his bed. “We’re keeping him, aren’t we?” Andrew whispered into the night. Angelus shut the door behind himself.
“Yep,” Angelus answered, sitting on the bed, “I think he’s all right, just…ya know, young.”
“Tch.” Andrew rolled onto his side.
“You could just tell him you’re straight.” Though Angelus knew it wasn’t true.
Andrew didn’t answer, except to say, “Good night.”
Angelus went to his own bed after throwing his shirt on the floor, followed by his pants. Clean, he was not. “Good night.” He slept, that night, quite peacefully even though usually company kept him paranoid. He had no dreams at all.
In the other room, Jasmine set herself up on the floor, and looked again to the violin, “You know, I’m glad you’re playing again.” She had been worried. “Maybe you should talk to that guy in the morning. He probably knows when a rave is.” She hadn’t been dancing, either.
Maya sat on her bed, considered it, “Maybe….”
“I’ll ask,” Jasmine sighed. “You need to start doing things again, Maya. I'll ask him about the local theaters, too.”
‘I’m not sure I like those things.’ She’d been more or less forced into music and dance her whole life. “I know,” she consented. “Ok.” She’d at least humor it. “Good night, Jas.”
“Good night, Maya.”
Maya laid down. For the first time, in many, many nights, she slept without a nightmare.