banner by kazzy_cee
Savannah, Vignettes of Tenderness
Despite the fire which was small enough you could piss it out, Oz was shivering.
Xander kept glancing at him, feeling this bizarro urge to care for him that felt... rusty. He cared for Buffy, and if it had been Buffy shivering, he'd have pulled her into his arms and let her use his lap as a pillow, put the blanket over her, and stroked her hair.
Xander was used to Buffy: she was pretty tight about showing emotion. Kind of like a dog Xander had as a pet once, which wanted touch, but stiffened at every caress, until it went and sat somewhere to absorb the affection from a safe distance. Buffy was like that dog, though, of course, he'd never tell her she reminded him of an actual dog. Uh. He just didn't think she'd get it.
Now Xander was feeling out of sorts, because he could see Oz was suffering, but he didn't know how to deal with it.
Xander felt like the rusty garden gate outside his old cottage. It stiffened up on its hinges after one rainy season, and hadn't wanted to open, so he'd had to work it for a while to get it moving freely again. Now he felt just like that gate: if he let Oz in, could he shut him out again?
He settled for tossing the blanket at Oz.
"You don't have a shirt on!" Oz immediately tried to give it back.
"Yeah, but I've been eating regular and you... I could walk up your spine like stairs."
Oz pulled the blanket close, his eyes closing for a moment as he rubbed his face against the rough comfort of wool.
"Besides, I should really keep watch. Just... go to sleep!" Xander barked.
Oz didn't seem to take offence, just studying Xander calmly.
Xander felt self-conscious and blocked out the other boy as he pulled his equipment out of his traveling sack.
"What's that?" Oz asked him.
"Leather bracelet. I make them for market day."
Oz inched over closer so he could see better. Xander watched his face, but didn't see anything there but honest interest.
"I inset a little stone into the center of each bracelet. This is a piece of turquoise. Not a great stone... see where it’s flawed?" He showed Oz, whom traced a tiny crack in the face of the gem.
"Looks like a map of the world, kinda," Oz said.
"Yeah, that's why I like turquoise." Then Xander wondered if that sounded strange. Saying how much he liked a stone. He cleared his throat. "I sell it, anyway. Some girls like to buy them for their fellas."
"That is so cool. I like the little spirals and designs on the leather. It looks like it was made by a machine, all those laces threaded through... and the setting, how do you do that?"
Xander flipped it over, showing a piece of leather backing which he'd sew around the stone. The face wasn't as wide, so it would keep the piece from falling out.
"It’s not anything special," Xander said gruffly.
"I think it is." Oz wasn't looking at the stone, but at Xander.
Xander swallowed, feeling an urge to slam shut his rusty gate. "You need to sleep. Now," he ordered.
"Xander. I'm going to lie next to you 'cause I can see my breath."
Xander nodded reluctant permission and watched out of the corner of his eyes as Oz sidled close and curled up in his blanket next to him. The feel of the smaller boy's body was a little oblong bit of warmth on a cold night.
He picked up the leather and went back to work. If he made a few more of these, he could maybe afford some of that shampoo Buffy liked, and maybe a couple of other things she needed but wouldn't ask for.
.........
"Easy, girl." Buffy came out of her daze when the stranger in black lifted her gently off the horse. She saw it had somehow gotten dark. When had that happened?
Buffy's legs were numb and as soon as she stood on them, she felt it in her back and her lower belly. She couldn't stifle a gasp, falling at the stranger's feet like a toppled tree.
"Fuck!" He dropped to his knees beside her, his gloved hands fluttering.
"We don't want her kind stayin' here," Buffy heard a harsh female voice. She was holding her tummy, tears running down her face. She looked up and recognized the inn keeper for the Pony Express glaring at her under tangled grey hair, which had the texture of unwashed sheep.
"What?" Her rescuer stood. He was smaller than the big woman: at least two inches shorter, yet there was something menacing about him with his gloves, turban and hat, all different shades of midnight. The woman blinked, taking a step back.
"I don't want her in my place. We're respectable here."
"She needs help."
"So what?"
He strode close and the woman gave a squeak. "I want a room. Hot water. And I'll need some food and things to care for her," he said in a gentle voice, yet the sound of it made Buffy's hair stiff on the back of her neck.
"You can have the cabin out back! I'll send the girl around--"
"Do it."
..........
He carried Buffy out back. She meant to walk, but she was weak and hurting... and scared.
Her hands cupped her belly, and she wondered if her problem was gone. She wondered how she could mourn the loss of something she hadn't chosen or wanted.
"What's wrong, pet?" his voice was gentle as he laid her on the single bed with a worn star patchwork quilt. The walls were fat logs with tar between them lit by a single lamp by the bed.
"I've lost..." Buffy's voice cracked and died, like a shred of fragile paper evaporating in fire.
"No. Your baby is still there." He took off his rough gloves, revealing surprisingly delicate white hands which covered her own on her tummy. Buffy was shocked at this sudden intimacy.
The servant arrived then with hot water and food which Buffy didn't want, so she couldn't question her rescuer privately.
...........
Xander got up when he heard hoof beats on the Grass. He couldn't make out where they were coming from, but he dosed the tiny fire immediately, smothering it with his boots and Oz' blanket to trap the smell of the smoke.
He saw the whites of Oz' eyes in the moonlight.
"Stay here," he ordered, pulling something from his sack before he circled away from the camp.
...........
"My baby...?"
"Still there, pet. Don't fret." The stranger stood and looked at the servant girl. "I want you should clean her up."
The girl shook her head and Buffy's rescuer snagged her arm, twisting it a little and bringing her close to him. "I wasn't askin.’"
He strode from the cabin, slamming the door, and Buffy felt weirdly vulnerable, considering she didn't know who he was, and he made danger dance down her spine, but she didn't want the servant girl touching her any more than the girl wanted to do it.
She turned her face away when the girl bought over the pan of hot water and a sea sponge, and began to open Buffy's dirty shirt.
.........
The one horned demon rode in almost over top of Oz. Oz scrambled away, but he knew even before he was tackled it was futile. He should have known that K'sees would search for him: Oz wore his brand on his inner thigh.
The demon dragged him back to the camp by his hair, and Oz went as limp in his hands as a mouse caught by a hawk, knowing it was hopeless. At least Xander got away...
The frail cotton tee shirt was ripped off him and he turned his face away as it was slammed into the dirt. He knew what was coming, and he pressed his eyes closed to stop the tears--
Suddenly there was a sound like an axe cutting wood. K'sees stiffened over him. He choked, greenish blood frothing from his lips, before turning to confront something... or someone.
In the moonlight, Oz looked up at Xander holding a dripping tomahawk.
Xander used it on the demon like he was cutting kindling. More blood sprayed, hitting Oz' face as he stared in awe.
"You okay?" Xander asked calmly. His hand holding the weapon was steady. It was hard to believe this was the awkward Xander Oz had known growing up.
Oz threw himself into Xander's arms.
Then, just as suddenly as it had happened, the lightning-hug was safely over, and Oz was four feet away.
"S-sorry. Normal programming will now resume. Just... not sure I could have taken being raped again." Oz' voice cracked over the word rape.
Xander cleared his throat. "I feel like a real hero now," he joked, bending over to wipe the gory tomahawk off on the still-twitching demon corpse.
"That's probably because you are one," Oz said, then in one of his abrupt changes of topic, he continued, "Potato chips. I could really go for some right now."
Xander looked at Oz, still obviously a little wary, but there was no resumption of the unsettling Ozonian cuddle fest.
"I prefer rice chips, but with cheese. I have to watch what I eat."
"You kiddin' me? You look like you burn a lot of calories out here."
Xander laughed, easy again. "Yeah, I think I burned a few just now."
........
Her mysterious rescuer returned on the heels of the servant girl leaving. Buffy blinked at him, so tired she just wanted to sleep, but she felt safer now he was back... which made no sense!
Wordlessly, he took off his hat, and unwound the turban, revealing an unevenly shaped pointy chin first, and then pouty lips, followed by the brown bristles of a light beard. His hair was crazy curls of mixed brown and white. His eyes were searing, but not the blue she'd thought. Sort of an odd mixy color, and the searing intensity came from the intent way he gazed back at her, as if she were the only thing in the room.
It made her swallow, abruptly self-conscious. He took off his black coat, revealing black jeans and a black shirt, open at the collar.
"You'll be alright if you rest. Not sure how you ended up out here... or why you're pregnant, Buffy," he said, eyes shadowed.
Buffy frowned, fed up with all the mystery. "Who the hell are you?"
**************************