~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another long, hot, grueling day finally ground to an end. Buffy almost wept with joy when Shay rode by to tell them that the caravan was stopping early because yet another traveler had broken a wagon wheel. Spike had offered his assistance, but Shay insisted that Mr. Reynolds and his three sons had the situation well in hand.
Watching Spike jump off the wagon to tend to the horses, Buffy admitted to herself, albeit begrudgingly, that the ex-vamp was proving to be a surprisingly helpful travel companion. It was obvious now that he didn’t just jump to the aid of beautiful young widows; in fact, he was making himself quite useful with all of the wagon train travelers. He often rose before dawn to help Shay and Matthew with the harnessing the teams of some of the other families – those talents, learned long ago, came in handy in the service of those not quite as adept with horses as he was.
It seemed that Spike also now shared a sort of camaraderie with the other men of the train—
a camaraderie that Buffy actually envied. It wasn’t that she was averse to making friends with the other women on the train, it was just that between the exhaustion of the physical labor and the hours spent either readying for the day’s activities, enduring them, or making camp, there was little time for ‘girl talk.’
Not that she had an inkling as to what to talk about with these women. They seemed, to Buffy, to be little more than an extension of the men in their lives. The cooking, cleaning, mending extension. And while she was now the queen of the campfire and could actually make the morning coffee without it burning and bubbling over, Buffy still felt odd and out of place. Not that that feeling was anything new to her. Feeling odd, out of place, less than normal, was par for the course for the Chosen One. Came part and parcel with the stake and cross she carried on her every hour of every day. Now, here she was, a simple human being again. No calling, other than to get through the day and still she felt at odds with herself. Out of place. It didn’t seem fair. But when had life ever been fair?
She arched her aching back and took a moment to look around at the landscape. Saw-grass rippled in the slight breeze—a hint of fall rustling the leaves of the trees. There was still some daylight left and she looked at the sun as it sat low in the sky, framed by large puffy clouds and brilliant blue skies.
“Daydreamin’ won’t get your work done, Slayer.”
She looked down at Spike, his eyes almost as blue as the sky she’d just pulled her attention from. “I know.” She sighed, pulling herself to the edge of the wagon seat, as Spike raised his arms to grasp her about the waist and help her from the wagon.
Spike, his hands still resting gently on her hips, tilted his head and gave her a look. “Happy we stopped early, yeh?”
“Oh, yeah.” She smiled, though her face clearly showed her weariness.
He reached up, pushing her sun bonnet back, and brushed his fingers through the long fringe of bangs that fell across her forehead and into her eyes. “Today was rough. Think you got more sun than you needed.” At her look, he raised his brows. “Told you go into the wagon for a bit. Stubborn bint.”
Buffy blew out a puff of air, her bangs barely ruffling off her sweaty brow. “Well, remind me next time not to be so . . . Oh, yeah, I do feel a little—” As her words faded she swayed against Spike, reaching out and grasping his upper arms for support.
“Whoa there, Slayer.” Before Buffy could object, Spike scooped her up into his arms and moved to a small copse of trees near where the wagon stopped. Setting her gently on the ground, he knelt beside her. She struggled to sit up and without much effort Spike pushed her back down. “Just lay back. You’re not lookin’ so good.”
Her eyelids drooping, Buffy looked up at Spike, his face swimming in and out of focus. As he moved to stand up, she grasped his hand pulling him back to his knees beside her. “Don’t go,” she mumbled, her mouth feeling suddenly very dry. “I don’t feel—”
“I know, pet. Just lay still. You got a bit too much sun is all. Let me loosen this a bit.” His fingers worked the buttons at the throat of her cotton dress, then folded the fabric back, exposing the blotchy skin of her throat and chest. “Gonna go get you some water, sweetheart.”
Buffy nodded, but tightened her clench on his hand.
“Gotta let go, pet.” Spike smiled, his other hand prying her fingers from his flesh. “Promise I’ll be right back. Just goin’ to the wagon for some water.”
Buffy nodded, closing her eyes against the dizziness, her tongue darting out to lick at her parched lips. She slowly released his hand, immediately missing the reassuring touch of his calloused skin on hers. The world continued to pitch and heave under her, and it seemed hours before, at last, Spike took her hand again in his.
Crooking his other hand under her neck, Spike raised her head off the ground, and her lips touched the cool surface of a tin coffee cup. The water, while warm from being in the side barrel of the wagon all, still felt incredibly refreshing to her. Spike only let her sip, even though she would have loved to have gulped the entire cup in one swallow.
“Easy there. Jus’ a bit at a time, Buffy.”
Her eyes opened and she watched as Spike’s face eased into focus. Taking a few more sips of water, she attempted what she hoped was a smile. “Better,” she mumbled, her lips still feeling dry and slightly numb. It was an odd, disorienting feeling and she hated how weak and tired it left her.
Spike settled onto the ground beside her and pulled her into his arms, so that her head rested on his lap, her cheek pressed against his stomach. Buffy felt the coolness of a wet cloth dabbed against the flushed skin of her cheek and then her neck.
“She is feeling better?”
The voice was Shay’s and Buffy could tell that he was standing near them, but she couldn’t seem to find the energy to turn her head in his direction.
“Yes, she is.” Buffy felt the rumbling of Spike’s voice against her cheek. Gruff, but warm and somehow comforting. “Jus’ a touch too much sun. Be right as rain in a bit.”
Shay’s soft footsteps faded away and she was left alone with Spike. They sat like this for several minutes, as Spike continued to move the cool, wet cloth across her brow and cheek.
“I’m sorry about this,” she mumbled at last, turning her face into him, hiding away from the blue of his eyes.
Spike quirked an eye-brow at her. “What have you got to be sorry ‘bout?”
She drew in a deep breath and then sat up slowly, pulling herself out of his arms, although he continued to steady her with a hand to the small of her back. She sighed. “Going all weak-kneed and swoony on you.”
“Wasn’ weak-kneed or vapid, luv.” Spike frowned. “Jus’ a touch too much sun and heat today. Happens to the best of us.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t happen to me.” She frowned, her chin trembling slightly has she fought back the unwanted tears that threatened. “Well, not normally.” She smoothed the fabric of her cotton dress around her knees, blinking back the evidence of her emotions, and looked up at Spike. “But I guess I have to redefine ‘normal’ these days.”
“Guess we both do.” His voice was soft, and he still looked worried, the crinkles around his eyes deepened into a frown of his own. “Think we have, in fact. Think we’ve done quite well, considerin’”
Buffy looked at him dubiously, taking the cloth from his hand and pressing it to the skin of her chest. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Spike rocked to his knees, then stood, reaching down to grasp Buffy’s hand and pull her to her feet. “Well, I know. Trust me. We’re doin’ fine. And we’ll be doin’ even better once we talk to Mr. Grogan.” Before Buffy could complain, the ex-vampire swung her into his arms, striding back to the wagon. “Gonna get you outta the sun. You’ll feel like a new Slayer in the mornin’”
She bit back the response that she didn’t even feel like the old Slayer these days, realizing that whining wasn’t going to make things better. And actually, things were better. Even if only slightly. They had at least a hint of hope that this Grogan fellow might be able to help them decipher the coin that Spike and Shay seemed so sure was the origin of their mishap in time.
In fact, in the last few days since their argument over Katie, things had even gotten better with Spike. Despite her ability to hold a grudge and Spike’s ability to annoy her by just, well, existing, they’d managed to push those differences aside and work together. Fear and loneliness had been excellent motivators. They really did only have each other, and the business of simply surviving another day took precedent over their long running mutual animosity.
Not that Buffy had given in too easily. She’d let loose with a few well placed barbs, her razor sharp tongue slicing through her good intentions like a knife through butter. But Spike had, uncharacteristically, turned the other cheek and managed to maintain his good humor and even helped to cultivate hers.
Who knew there were that many dirty limericks?
Buffy wasn’t sure what was improving his disposition. Perhaps it was the soul? Or maybe it was just the joy he must be feeling at being human. Because what a joy it must have been, to now be able to walk in the sunlight, to feel his heart beating.
She could feel his heart now, beating against her own ribs, steady and strong. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders as he lifted her higher into the opening of the wagon, and she studied with fascination the movement of muscles in his forearms.
“You stay put; I’ll get supper started—”
She shook her head. “No, Spike, I can—”
“You,” he pointed his finger, tapping her nose, “will stay put for a while. Get your energy back.” He went to the side of the wagon, pouring another cup of water and bringing it back to her. “Sip this, then I’ll get you some more. Once we get you hydrated and fed, you’ll feel a lot better.”
Buffy clutched the tin cup in both hands. “I—” she hesitated, her eyes moving from the water to his eyes. She chewed pensively on her bottom lip, then took a deep breath. “Thank you, Spike. I know—”
The ex-vamp waved her off, turning to step away. “No need—”
“Yes, there is a need.” She caught him by his sleeve. “I know I haven’t been . . . well,” Buffy’s eyes dropped to the tin cup held tightly in her hands. She knew she wouldn’t be able to finish if she continued looking into those concerned blue eyes. “. . . the most pleasant person to be with since this whole thing started. It’s just . . . it hasn’t been easy for me to lose everything.” Her hands shook, the water spilling onto her wrist. She took a deep, shakey breath and forged ahead. “To not be the Slayer. To have to rely on you . . .” Her eyes flashed to his for a second, then back to her hands. “But it’s not just you, not really. It’s having to rely someone else, anyone else, to take care of me . . .” She looked up then, her mouth tightening into a thin line, as she fought to keep herself from trembling, her eyes daring him to make light of her vulnerability.
“Thought we’d agreed we were a team, yeh? That means we’re takin’ care of each other, Slayer.” The tone of his voice drew here eyes back to his. His eyes were narrowed, piercing, as if they’d found a route straight to her heart. “And you’re still the Slayer. That’s not something anyone or anything can take from you. Trust me on this, luv, you are still the Chosen One.” His gaze softened a bit, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “Appointed and anointed to be a royal pain in my arse until the day I dust.”
Buffy tilted her head, a smile slowing growing. “Yeah?”
Spike huffed out a breath, raising his eyebrows, but smiling back at her. “Yeah, Slayer. Now get your ass in that wagon. You need anything before I go out to gather some wood for the fire?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Well, not unless you can round up a hot shower and a big bottle of shampoo. Oh, and conditioner. Redken, if they have it.” As if to emphasis her distress, she reached up and scratched her scalp.
“Sorry, luv, I don’t think …” Spike paused, casting a look over his shoulder to the copse of trees they’d sat next to. When he looked back it was with a grin that she’d never quite witnessed from him before. “You stay put. I’ll be back in two shakes.”
She watched, opened mouthed, as he trotted off towards the trees. As he disappeared within their depths she frowned, calling out, “Wait. Two shakes of what?”
To Be Continued
[Reviews - 290]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 2358 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
This chapter took a long time and I’d like to apologize for the wait. I knew where I was, and I even knew where I wanted to be. I just didn’t have a clue as to how to get there. A chat with beanbeans did the trick however. She asked me all the right questions and got me back on track. So if you want to thank anyone for this chapter, thank her. Also, as always, my wonderful betas eman, holly, and, because I nudged her into to, beans!