Title: No Buzzkill Like the Past - Part 3(/3): Buzzkill
Author: Mercury Starlight
Rating: R, for language (Sorry, guys, not this time ^_^)
Pairing: J/SB, who else?
Archive: Pretty, pretty please?
Feedback: Always, always!
Disclaimers: In no way are these innocent (*snort*) little stories 
meant to infringe upon Kevin Smith's territory...just borrowing the 
guys for a while!
Warnings: Something I can't say without spoiling the story, more 
excessive Bob thinking, author being mean to Jay and making him cry 
again...(what can I say, I've got a thing for the sensitive type...) Oh, 
and I'm back to my excessive use of ellipses...
Notes: This part is considerably shorter than the others...don't know 
how that happened...wow, this really is REALLY short... Ok, now I'm trying 
to decide whether I should just leave this where it is, and just 
write stories relating to it, or whether I should actually just pull 
a Kel and make a couple more parts to the "trilogy" ^_^ Ah well, 
I'll figure that out later, in the meantime, read on!

~Buzzkill~


"Mail's here!" Jay yelled, much louder than he really had to for such 
a small apartment.

Silent Bob got up from the TV, and Jay took the one letter for him 
and flopped on the couch. Bob glanced through his own mail 
haphazardly. He wasn't even really looking at it, like he hadn't 
really been watching TV. He was deep in thought today. Two weeks. 
It had been two weeks since the party, and beside that one look, Bob 
hadn't seen any evidence that Jay knew anything about what had 
happened. Nothing had changed between them and Jay acted like he 
always had, innuendo, clinginess and all. He was beginning to wonder 
if he hadn't imagined the look in the first place, and that Jay 
really didn't remember. It had also been another two weeks without 
any word from Gloria, and now he was really worried. But, Jay had 
gotten a letter today, after all, maybe it was from her.

Bob looked up at Jay, wondering why he hadn't said anything about the 
letter. By now, Jay was usually happily reporting every little piece 
of preteen superficiality that Glorie had written. He didn't look 
like he was in the mood to talk, however. Jay was sitting back on 
the couch, looking like he had been socked in the stomach, staring at 
nothing. The letter sat, opened, on the coffee table. Jay was 
breathing hard, as if he were having trouble...or trying not to cry. 
Bob got up and sat next to him. Jay didn't look at him, but he 
spoke, very steadily and very quietly.

"Glorie's...dead...she killed herself on Friday. She left a note...she was 
pregnant..." he paused, seemingly unable to continue for a moment. Bob 
took his hand, and Jay didn't pull away. He was starting to 
shake, "Mom says she would have called if she had our number...that's 
bullshit, she could've looked for it, she found our address...she's 
getting a divorce...seeing about what she can do about getting him 
arrested... God, she was only thirteen!" Jay wailed in grief as Bob 
grabbed and held him, trying to cry himself.

"It'll be ok..." he whispered, although he wasn't sure that it would.

"No! No it won't! My sister's dead, my fucking sister's fucking 
dead!" Jay screamed, getting hysterical. Bob just let him, holding 
him tighter. 

"I know, Jay, I know," he rocked his friend slowly, all the while 
thinking, `God, Jay, don't cry. I can't take you crying, it kills me 
when you cry. Don't be sad, Bluejay, I'll do anything, I'll find a 
way to fix it somehow, just don't be sad.' But this was something 
he couldn't fix. He couldn't make everything all better this time. 
Jay had to deal with this, and there was nothing Bob could do about 
it. He just had to sit back and let the love of his life mourn the 
death of the only family he had ever cared about. This thought of 
love didn't bother him much anymore. He had pretty much figured that 
maybe love was just love, and it didn't know gender if it was strong 
enough. He also figured that if Jay ever found out about it, he 
would run as far as he could in the opposite direction, so he just 
didn't give him the chance to. He suffered in silence, which wasn't 
very difficult, considering. He also wondered how long it would take 
before it started killing him.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice how close Jay had 
actually gotten to him. Jay's head was on his shoulder, and their 
heads were positioned in such a way that they were practically 
kissing. Jay hesitantly leaned forward, just enough to make 
contact. They were kissing, open mouthed, eyes closed, when Bob 
suddenly reached up to stroke Jay's cheek. Jay jumped back suddenly, 
stared at Bob with eyes full of fear and confusion. He jumped up, 
ran to his room and slammed the door.

Bob sighed and put his head in his hands. Jay remembered all right. 
He might even have some feelings about it, somewhere, but he was 
pushing them away. Glorie's death had complicated things even 
further, if that were possible. Now Jay had a bigger wall to hide 
behind. Bob prayed that he might still be allowed behind it once in 
a while. The last thing he wanted was to lose his best friend in the 
world. Unfortunately, Jay was going to have to figure this out for 
himself, with no interference from Bob. He could already see that 
this was going to slowly eat him away. His feelings for Jay were 
real, and they were strong. He dreaded to see himself, five years 
down the line, protective and loving as ever to a boy, he shook his 
head, a *man* who showed nothing in return but insults and idiotic 
ramblings to cover years of pain. He dreaded this, but he somehow 
knew he would accept it. He was going to have to... Jay needed him. 
That much was clear. Jay would be entirely lost without him. The 
idiot would probably end up getting himself shot, or getting Bob shot 
for that matter. There was nothing else to do but stay, no matter 
how much it would come to hurt in later years. He was going to stand 
by Jay, for as long as it took...maybe (he hoped) for the rest of their 
lives.
**********************************************************************

Ok, it was quite compact, and the ending's a little weak, but dammit 
it's 12:46AM and I wanna go to sleep! R&R, like always, and thanks 
to everyone who has so far, it is very appreciated. ^_^ The 
compactness isn't really my fault, you see, (WARNING: rambling OT 
now...) in Elementary School we had this thing called "Writer's 
Workshop" and in fourth grade I was encouraged to write big, long 
stories. Well, I did. Veee-ry long stories. (I'll tell you, 27 
pages is a lot for a 9 year old!) But then my fifth *and* sixth 
grade teachers both encouraged me to write as little as possible. 
Trying to get a 30 page point accross in two pages takes *training*, 
I'll tell you! So now, I've been trying to re-program myself 
and...oh, I'm completely rambling now, I'm gonna go to bed!

~*!*~
Mercury