The Road Not Taken - Part 20
Full story.
Touching
Xander slipped out the back door when Spike first arrived. He had a pretty good idea of how that conversation was going to go. So instead of standing around to watch the explosion, he was going to wait for the inevitable aftermath. The brief fracas that erupted between Spike and Faith warned him that it was about time. He walked over behind the tree in the front yard and waited.
Soon enough, Spike came barreling out of the house, his face a thundercloud. (Although, bravo for Spike, no vampface.) As Spike paused at the end of the walkway and inhaled deeply through his nose, Xander spoke up.
"You got her scent?"
Spike whirled, still angry but recalling that he hadn't seen Xander during the little 'chat' that he'd had with the others. "You tried to stop her from going, didn't you?"
"Do you even need to ask?"
"Rhetorical, mate. Yeah, I got her scent." Spike jerked his chin in the direction that Buffy's trail led.
"Bring me with?" Xander's single eye locked onto Spike's.
"You good to travel? She won't thank me if I bring you to her in any worse condition than you are now." Plus, Spike had a finely honed sense of self-preservation. Buffy would not be pleased if Xander was hurt, he knew.
"With help, yeah."
"Does the Boston Baked Slayer know you're doin' this?" Having briefly scuffled with Faith, he wasn't anxious to do it again anytime soon without a good reason.
"I left a note." Xander shrugged casually. It wasn't like he'd never gotten Faith ticked off before.
"Braver than I gave you credit for. Come on, then." Spike gestured down the sidewalk and they both began to walk after Buffy, Xander slightly behind so he didn't mess up Spike's Buffy Detector.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Xander waited outside of the house that Spike's nose had led them to. He'd reluctantly agreed to let Spike go first, because he couldn't deny that Spike's own unique viewpoint might jostle her out of her despondency before Xander tagged in to bring her spirit back to the feisty girl they both knew.
Meanwhile, Buffy was finally starting to get the point of Spike's tirade. She'd invited him to stay with her, just for the company. Amazingly, Spike shook his head and declined. "Can't do that, pet." Stunned, Buffy watched him leave the room.
Spike came out. "Your turn, mate. Do it right. I'll go keep an eye on the children. Call me if you need to get back and she can't walk with you."
Xander nodded his thanks at Spike. "Hey. Why'd you do all this?"
Spike tilted his chin up at the room that Buffy was presumably in. "Just want her to be happy, Xander." He nodded decisively and whirled around to go and lurk around the potentials until daybreak, make sure they were all nice and tucked in.
Since Spike had thoughtfully left the front door open, Xander didn't need to try and sneak in. He padded quietly up the stairs and peeked into rooms until he found Buffy's small form huddled in a ball on one side of a stranger's bed.
"Spike, make up your mind." Buffy muttered, sounding much better than she had when she left the house, but still not back up to her full Buffy-ness. "Either stay or-" As she spoke, she sat up and spotted him. "Xander? What're you doing here?"
"Had to make sure you were alright." He replied simply.
"But how-?" Buffy's eyes narrowed and she glared daggers in the general direction that Spike had gone. "That fink. He set me up."
Xander gestured expansively as he stifled his amusement. "So, what? You're disappointed?"
"Shut up, come here and kiss me."
Never one to disobey his favorite Slayer, Xander obliged. Even with a night spent wandering Sunnydale, she still smelled faintly of vanilla. After they'd sufficiently subdued their respective anxiety, Buffy patted the bed beside her in invitation and he dutifully arranged himself for pillow detail.
Once they'd gotten settled, Buffy curled up in Xander's arms, she peered up at him. "Did Spike fill you in on the whole thing?"
He nodded. "Said that Caleb-" Xander scowled "-tore apart a church and found a message that said there was something out there meant for you alone?"
"That's the short of it, yep." Buffy lay her head back down on Xander's chest.
Xander still wasn't sure it was the greatest plan ever. "What about the Bringers and Caleb?"
"I figure, I'll watch the vineyard and when the flock of Bringers gets thin, I'll see if I can ninja my way in and find whatever he's protecting." She shrugged.
"Buffy-"
"Xander, no. I already got them all hurt and you-" she burrowed her face into his chest.
"Hey." Xander reached down to tip her chin up so he could see her eyes. "I never walked into a fight that I didn't want to. It's not your fault. Put that blame wagon all on Caleb."
Buffy's eyes grew steely. "Or stick it straight up his-"
"Mental picture not needed!" Xander winced. Not in sympathy for Caleb, of course. It was just something he didn't want to imagine.
"Okay, okay, sorry." Buffy settled back into curling up with Xander. "I'd rather not think about him right this instant, anyhow." She leaned her head back so she could look at him. "Does anyone other than Spike know you're here?"
Xander shrugged. "I left Faith a note that I was going to go looking. And Willow probably has an idea."
She made a face at this revelation. Couldn't be helped, but she'd rather not have a search party out for him. But her worries drifted back to what she was planning. "Xander? What if I'm wrong and it's not at the vineyard?"
"Then you'll do what you always do. Escape by the skin of your teeth and figure out where it all went awry." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"Mmf. How'm I supposed to get a good sulk on when you're being all supportive?"
Xander quirked a grin and angled his head so he could look at her. "Tough luck, missy. You'll take your support and you'll like it."
Buffy snorted before tilting her head to consider Xander. "Y'know, I hate that you have to wear it, but that eye-patch does make you look all 'International Man of Mystery'."
"I am so not dressing like Austin Powers."
She feigned a huff. "No! Also, ew. I just mean, it makes you look a little rugged. Maybe a little dangerous."
"Dangerous? Have we met?" Xander was trying to muddle through whatever crazy Buffy logic she was presenting him with.
Briefly forgetting about the thoughts roiling around in her head, Buffy sat up and straddled Xander's legs, causing him to make a startled noise. "Here. Look at me."
"I kind of can't help but look at you right now." Xander tried not to squirm uncomfortably.
"Shh." She reached out and cradled his jaw in her hands, making him look at her. (Not up; she wasn't tall enough for that.) "Just look at me. Let your mind wander," she breathed.
Xander swallowed and began to look at her. He remembered how she looked when he first met her, back at Sunnydale High 1.0. How she had looked when she was dressed up extra lavishly for a special occasion. Or when she was loafing around the house in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Even how she'd looked during the love spell fiasco and she was giving him that come-hither stare while dressed in heels and a raincoat.
Buffy studied his eye intently until she caught that little spark of desire flaring up. The mixture of his affection and lust gave him this look that made her spine tingle. "What do you see?" She whispered.
"I see you." Xander replied roughly, his remembrances resolving into the Buffy that was sitting on his lap.
Buffy's eyes welled up slightly. Slowly, she leaned forward until she was leaning against Xander, twining her arms around his neck. "I think, I-" Buffy's train of thought went away when she pressed her body against his and began a long, unhurried kiss.
He'd been trying to be good, but Xander couldn't help responding. His arms tightened around her waist as their kiss continued, their breathing becoming harsh. But before the blood completely drained away from his brain, he paused the proceedings long enough to ask, "I thought you wanted to wait. Y'know, take things slow?" And even he could hear his resolve in this matter crumbling.
"Waiting is overrated." She leaned forward and captured his lips again to stall any further protests.
And suddenly their kiss went from unhurried passion, to fumbling with clothes, impassioned caresses, impatient teasing. Murmured nothings that ranged from tender to demanding to downright dirty. It was as good a first time as two experienced lovers could ask for. The occasional fumbling as they learned one anothers likes and sensitive spots and unspoken cues for what they wanted.
As the flame died down, Xander was propped up on his elbows over Buffy, touching his forehead to hers with each of their eyes wide in surprise and post-coital pleasure. "Okay." He panted blissfully. "Didn't see that coming."
Buffy was shivering in in the delightful aftermath. She captured his face in her hands and stole one more lingering kiss, then secured her arms around his shoulders tightly. One thing was for certain. Anya hadn't been exaggerating by much about his viking status. She felt quite pleasantly pillaged. "Not complaining in the least, though." She murmured, her eyes half-lidded.
Xander, meanwhile, had forgotten precisely what this sort of thing was like, when your partner was a Slayer. He knew this was going to hurt in the morning, but right at that second he couldn't be paid to worry about it. "Oh, no. No complaining."
The two of them eventually got to where they'd settled into a nice cuddling position. There was probably a Serious Talk that needed to come of this. But there didn't seem to be any great rush. Whether that was fatigue, post sex satiation or some other factor, only Xander and Buffy knew.
Hours later, Xander woke up with something very wrong. There was no small, blonde bundle of warmth curled up next to or atop him. He pried his eye open to discover that she'd been swapped out with a piece of paper with his name on it. With some trepidation, he opened the paper.
The three words he found printed on it brought a slightly dreamy smile to his face. At least, until he tried to move and found all those aches and sorenesses that he'd forgotten he was expecting. Not too many people could use the phrase, 'she's not the first Slayer I've had'. Buffy had more control than Faith had during their little bout of apocalypse-sex, but he still felt quite thoroughly wrung out.
Woman of steel, man of kleenex? Stupid Larry Niven.
Touching
Xander slipped out the back door when Spike first arrived. He had a pretty good idea of how that conversation was going to go. So instead of standing around to watch the explosion, he was going to wait for the inevitable aftermath. The brief fracas that erupted between Spike and Faith warned him that it was about time. He walked over behind the tree in the front yard and waited.
Soon enough, Spike came barreling out of the house, his face a thundercloud. (Although, bravo for Spike, no vampface.) As Spike paused at the end of the walkway and inhaled deeply through his nose, Xander spoke up.
"You got her scent?"
Spike whirled, still angry but recalling that he hadn't seen Xander during the little 'chat' that he'd had with the others. "You tried to stop her from going, didn't you?"
"Do you even need to ask?"
"Rhetorical, mate. Yeah, I got her scent." Spike jerked his chin in the direction that Buffy's trail led.
"Bring me with?" Xander's single eye locked onto Spike's.
"You good to travel? She won't thank me if I bring you to her in any worse condition than you are now." Plus, Spike had a finely honed sense of self-preservation. Buffy would not be pleased if Xander was hurt, he knew.
"With help, yeah."
"Does the Boston Baked Slayer know you're doin' this?" Having briefly scuffled with Faith, he wasn't anxious to do it again anytime soon without a good reason.
"I left a note." Xander shrugged casually. It wasn't like he'd never gotten Faith ticked off before.
"Braver than I gave you credit for. Come on, then." Spike gestured down the sidewalk and they both began to walk after Buffy, Xander slightly behind so he didn't mess up Spike's Buffy Detector.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Xander waited outside of the house that Spike's nose had led them to. He'd reluctantly agreed to let Spike go first, because he couldn't deny that Spike's own unique viewpoint might jostle her out of her despondency before Xander tagged in to bring her spirit back to the feisty girl they both knew.
Meanwhile, Buffy was finally starting to get the point of Spike's tirade. She'd invited him to stay with her, just for the company. Amazingly, Spike shook his head and declined. "Can't do that, pet." Stunned, Buffy watched him leave the room.
Spike came out. "Your turn, mate. Do it right. I'll go keep an eye on the children. Call me if you need to get back and she can't walk with you."
Xander nodded his thanks at Spike. "Hey. Why'd you do all this?"
Spike tilted his chin up at the room that Buffy was presumably in. "Just want her to be happy, Xander." He nodded decisively and whirled around to go and lurk around the potentials until daybreak, make sure they were all nice and tucked in.
Since Spike had thoughtfully left the front door open, Xander didn't need to try and sneak in. He padded quietly up the stairs and peeked into rooms until he found Buffy's small form huddled in a ball on one side of a stranger's bed.
"Spike, make up your mind." Buffy muttered, sounding much better than she had when she left the house, but still not back up to her full Buffy-ness. "Either stay or-" As she spoke, she sat up and spotted him. "Xander? What're you doing here?"
"Had to make sure you were alright." He replied simply.
"But how-?" Buffy's eyes narrowed and she glared daggers in the general direction that Spike had gone. "That fink. He set me up."
Xander gestured expansively as he stifled his amusement. "So, what? You're disappointed?"
"Shut up, come here and kiss me."
Never one to disobey his favorite Slayer, Xander obliged. Even with a night spent wandering Sunnydale, she still smelled faintly of vanilla. After they'd sufficiently subdued their respective anxiety, Buffy patted the bed beside her in invitation and he dutifully arranged himself for pillow detail.
Once they'd gotten settled, Buffy curled up in Xander's arms, she peered up at him. "Did Spike fill you in on the whole thing?"
He nodded. "Said that Caleb-" Xander scowled "-tore apart a church and found a message that said there was something out there meant for you alone?"
"That's the short of it, yep." Buffy lay her head back down on Xander's chest.
Xander still wasn't sure it was the greatest plan ever. "What about the Bringers and Caleb?"
"I figure, I'll watch the vineyard and when the flock of Bringers gets thin, I'll see if I can ninja my way in and find whatever he's protecting." She shrugged.
"Buffy-"
"Xander, no. I already got them all hurt and you-" she burrowed her face into his chest.
"Hey." Xander reached down to tip her chin up so he could see her eyes. "I never walked into a fight that I didn't want to. It's not your fault. Put that blame wagon all on Caleb."
Buffy's eyes grew steely. "Or stick it straight up his-"
"Mental picture not needed!" Xander winced. Not in sympathy for Caleb, of course. It was just something he didn't want to imagine.
"Okay, okay, sorry." Buffy settled back into curling up with Xander. "I'd rather not think about him right this instant, anyhow." She leaned her head back so she could look at him. "Does anyone other than Spike know you're here?"
Xander shrugged. "I left Faith a note that I was going to go looking. And Willow probably has an idea."
She made a face at this revelation. Couldn't be helped, but she'd rather not have a search party out for him. But her worries drifted back to what she was planning. "Xander? What if I'm wrong and it's not at the vineyard?"
"Then you'll do what you always do. Escape by the skin of your teeth and figure out where it all went awry." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"Mmf. How'm I supposed to get a good sulk on when you're being all supportive?"
Xander quirked a grin and angled his head so he could look at her. "Tough luck, missy. You'll take your support and you'll like it."
Buffy snorted before tilting her head to consider Xander. "Y'know, I hate that you have to wear it, but that eye-patch does make you look all 'International Man of Mystery'."
"I am so not dressing like Austin Powers."
She feigned a huff. "No! Also, ew. I just mean, it makes you look a little rugged. Maybe a little dangerous."
"Dangerous? Have we met?" Xander was trying to muddle through whatever crazy Buffy logic she was presenting him with.
Briefly forgetting about the thoughts roiling around in her head, Buffy sat up and straddled Xander's legs, causing him to make a startled noise. "Here. Look at me."
"I kind of can't help but look at you right now." Xander tried not to squirm uncomfortably.
"Shh." She reached out and cradled his jaw in her hands, making him look at her. (Not up; she wasn't tall enough for that.) "Just look at me. Let your mind wander," she breathed.
Xander swallowed and began to look at her. He remembered how she looked when he first met her, back at Sunnydale High 1.0. How she had looked when she was dressed up extra lavishly for a special occasion. Or when she was loafing around the house in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Even how she'd looked during the love spell fiasco and she was giving him that come-hither stare while dressed in heels and a raincoat.
Buffy studied his eye intently until she caught that little spark of desire flaring up. The mixture of his affection and lust gave him this look that made her spine tingle. "What do you see?" She whispered.
"I see you." Xander replied roughly, his remembrances resolving into the Buffy that was sitting on his lap.
Buffy's eyes welled up slightly. Slowly, she leaned forward until she was leaning against Xander, twining her arms around his neck. "I think, I-" Buffy's train of thought went away when she pressed her body against his and began a long, unhurried kiss.
He'd been trying to be good, but Xander couldn't help responding. His arms tightened around her waist as their kiss continued, their breathing becoming harsh. But before the blood completely drained away from his brain, he paused the proceedings long enough to ask, "I thought you wanted to wait. Y'know, take things slow?" And even he could hear his resolve in this matter crumbling.
"Waiting is overrated." She leaned forward and captured his lips again to stall any further protests.
And suddenly their kiss went from unhurried passion, to fumbling with clothes, impassioned caresses, impatient teasing. Murmured nothings that ranged from tender to demanding to downright dirty. It was as good a first time as two experienced lovers could ask for. The occasional fumbling as they learned one anothers likes and sensitive spots and unspoken cues for what they wanted.
As the flame died down, Xander was propped up on his elbows over Buffy, touching his forehead to hers with each of their eyes wide in surprise and post-coital pleasure. "Okay." He panted blissfully. "Didn't see that coming."
Buffy was shivering in in the delightful aftermath. She captured his face in her hands and stole one more lingering kiss, then secured her arms around his shoulders tightly. One thing was for certain. Anya hadn't been exaggerating by much about his viking status. She felt quite pleasantly pillaged. "Not complaining in the least, though." She murmured, her eyes half-lidded.
Xander, meanwhile, had forgotten precisely what this sort of thing was like, when your partner was a Slayer. He knew this was going to hurt in the morning, but right at that second he couldn't be paid to worry about it. "Oh, no. No complaining."
The two of them eventually got to where they'd settled into a nice cuddling position. There was probably a Serious Talk that needed to come of this. But there didn't seem to be any great rush. Whether that was fatigue, post sex satiation or some other factor, only Xander and Buffy knew.
Hours later, Xander woke up with something very wrong. There was no small, blonde bundle of warmth curled up next to or atop him. He pried his eye open to discover that she'd been swapped out with a piece of paper with his name on it. With some trepidation, he opened the paper.
The three words he found printed on it brought a slightly dreamy smile to his face. At least, until he tried to move and found all those aches and sorenesses that he'd forgotten he was expecting. Not too many people could use the phrase, 'she's not the first Slayer I've had'. Buffy had more control than Faith had during their little bout of apocalypse-sex, but he still felt quite thoroughly wrung out.
Woman of steel, man of kleenex? Stupid Larry Niven.