banner by Kazzy_cee
Xander had his head against the grass. His fingers clenched in the reddish, loose soil. "Hear it?"
Oz shook his head. "I don't hear anything."
"Put your head down against the earth. Feel it vibrating..." Xander watched as Oz bent down and mimicked him. When Oz' eyes flared open, he knew the other boy had heard it.
"Like... drum beats."
"It's a siege. North Town. Must be."
Oz paled. "Please... please just let me go."
"Where will you go, Oz? You can't even survive out here on your own. You might be a werewolf, but being a sex slave for months hasn't really prepared you for survival on The Grass."
Oz's fingers clenched on bone wheat strands of grass in his fingers. "You don't understand who you're helping. I've done things..."
Xander handed some dried meat to the other boy. "When you're ready, you'll tell me, but until then, I'm going to go with... my heart, I guess. C'mon. We can make North Town at dusk."
"You want to head toward a town under siege?"
"Yep," Xander checked his sack. "Might have to stop for some more supplies on the way there."
"Supplies?"
"You'll see."
"Xander?"
"Yeah?"
"You are out-taciturning me. Stop it."
Xander grinned and then he reached out with grimy fingers and ruffled Oz' sleep-crushed hair. Before Oz could think about how it felt, that friendly touch, the hand was gone and Xander was walking the Grass again.
Oz got up on his feet and followed.
...
"Are you all right up there, girl?"
"I'm not your girl," was Buffy's only comment.
Oh, yes, you are, Spike thought, but he settled for a smug smile, knowing it would irritate her. Truth was, he was worried for her. She was still pale, and he didn't like making her travel again, but Giles had said someone would be coming for her... it made him uneasy, and he wanted to leave the Inn.
"Taking that whore outta here? Good!" The Inn keeper said, as she came out to watch Spike help Buffy onto his mare.
Without pausing, Spike turned on his heel and strode over to the woman, backhanding her.
"Spike!" Buffy cried out in shock.
He stood over the woman, who blinked at him in shock. "She is not a whore. Call her that again and I'll hear of it, and I'll pull your still-beating heart out through your nostrils."
"She's carrying a baby from when she lay down for all those men. Everyone knows it!"
Spike's jaw tightened. All those men? He glanced over his shoulder at Buffy, but she looked away, her face even paler in the darkening light.
"She is carrying my baby. Mine. And she is to be my wife. Treat her with respect, woman, and make sure you put the word out: I'll kill anyone who insults my wife."
The woman's eyes saucered.
Spike wanted to strike her again but a gentle, firm hand caught his own. It was Buffy. He saw her head was still bent and it pissed him off. Why did these people treat her this way? She was Buffy. She was his warrior queen.
He lifted her pale hand to his lips and then, as courtly as a knight, dropped to his knees. "Marry me, Buffy," he asked.
Her shamed shyness evaporated. "You're insane!"
"Insane with love over your, uh, sweetness, my dove."
"Cut that out!" She shook off his hand and marched back to the horse, and Spike followed. "So where do we live?" he asked her as he helped her gently back astride.
"You're a lunatic: we don't live anywhere, but I should get back to the caves and find Xander."
"Xander? Perfect. So you spend your time rescuing that useless puppy in this universe as well?"
...
The dull thuds of explosions sounded like Xander's firecrackers to Oz, but the grass hill was lit with the red and gold of flame over the horizon. A tracer flew through the sky like a heavy comet and fell beyond sight, impacting with a yellow boom!
Xander put an arm around Oz, looting through his bag with the other for his tomahawk.
Oz stared at him. Xander had his arm around him! What did that mean? Oz was a pariah. No human should want to touch him, with the things he'd done. His throat tightened, because he knew that one day soon Xander would know about Oz' past, and when he did, he'd use that tomahawk on Oz, not... comfort him as he would a friend.
"Shhhh, Oz, man, you are so serious."
"I didn't say anything."
"I'm adept at reading Oz-silence now. I'm going down there to even out the odds a little. I want you to stay here, okay?"
Oz shook his head. "No, please, don't go down there. North Town is surrounded by demons!"
"I can get around the skirmishers and plant a few surprises. C'mon, I'll show you. If you know what I'm going to do, it will be easier for you to wait."
Xander pulled a reluctant Oz to the top of the rise. "See those guns they have?
Oz blinked as he saw a puff of white smoke rise from one and then a ball shoot from it. About five seconds after the canon lit off, he heard the boom as it impacted the wooden stockade around North Town. He saw defenders up on the heights, their own canons lighting off, so that tracer sound filled the air.
"They're using six pounders. Can tell since there are five cannoneers, and they are getting off a shot every four minutes or so. They aren't close enough yet to really do much damage. Have to be at least a kilometer before they can really gut the walls."
"Xander... what are you going to do?"
"Spike some guns. A little salt, a little magic. Stay here."
"You... trust me not to betray you?"
"Well, yeah. And don't try to run off again because I'll have to follow and make sure you're all right. It'll make me cranky. But, if you do need to, there is more meat in the sack. Take it."
Oz blinked, and his eyes were watering from more then the haze in the air. "Please be careful," he finally said.
Xander gave a reckless grin. "Always am!"
...
"How could you tell her that it was your baby?" Buffy asked Spike later that night. He was riding to her instructions, guided by starlight. The only sound was the lonely, endlessly moving wind over the prairie. He thought his girl must be different from the Buffy he'd known from living with that wind alone: it was such a desolate sound. Made a body feel futile and small.
"I grew up a Victorian gentleman in a man's world: seems like it's a bit like that here. Figured I could offer you the protection of my name and then the hens would leave off."
Buffy had her face snuggled against the cloak over his back. Her hands were laced over his tummy. She was very tired, he knew. "I don't need to be protected," she said. Her voice sounded of as many shades of sadness as a sunset had color. Spike's hand tightened protectively over hers, conscious of the beating heart of her baby as she let herself rest against him.
"Don't care."
"I'm gonna sleep some more, okay?" She leaned closer and her head came to rest between his neck and back, and at that moment, he fell for her. Her. Not the Buffy he knew, but this strange, prickly elsewhere-Buffy, with all her secret pain.