(Untitled)

[not_that_spike]

A few weeks ago, standing on a hill looking out at the lights of Paris in the distance, Beth told him what she missed about not being here. It was something so simple and so perfect that it made him yearn for this place like he hadn't in months.

The way you smell.
Especially after a shower.
Especially after a shower I took with you.It broke his

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[not_that_spike]

"We've got tobacco and pineapples. Don't see why we'd need anything else." But yeah, he knows what she means and he's maybe even less inclined to get out of bed than she is.

He will, though. He'll do anything for her; it's just the way he is. And it isn't like he gives a damn about smoking in peace: it's all good. If they go down (over?) to the bar, he can smoke there. It's no big deal, especially when her arms wrap around him like she can't get enough, like he's the best sight in the whole damn universe, like they haven't been together for most of the last six months. Hell, he can't keep his hands off her, either: shower or no shower, he'd love it if they could stay here long enough to wake up in each others' arms in the morning. Long enough for Beth Junior to have a comfortable night -- now that she's sleeping through them -- in her own crib. It would be a hell of a thing for all of them, but... not at the expense of their mission out in Paris. Not when they're so close they can smell it, even though the idea of finishing what they went out there to do fills him with a little bit of trepidation.

Whatever: he'll deal with it when and if he has to. But for now, he's got his woman in his arms and he doesn't have to hide himself away, and that... hell, it's worth enjoying. With that in mind, he leans forward and lets his lips drag over hers while she's so close.

He offered before -- at least he thinks he did, although maybe he just thought it -- but he'll do it again. "I can bring food in for us, Slim. We can let Junior sleep longer that way. Bring you anything you want." It's been a long time since he had the opportunity to talk to her this closely without being under that cloak. It's a whole different experience and while the cloak has its definite merits, he kind of likes it better this way. Mostly, he likes it better this way because there's so much opportunity and promise wrapped up in it.

"Eleuthera would be pretty damn perfect." In his mind's eye, he can see her clearly as anything standing naked in that turquoise water, dolphins in the background. Going back there would be fucking incredible and he'd do it in a heartbeat.

[stbethadettes]

Roughing it on Eleuthera like they'd have to in his time or her time would probably lose some of its charm in practice. But the idea of Spike, skin bronzed from the near constant kiss of the sun, wearing only some soft ragged-edged pair of jeans and doing some tobacco farming against a backdrop of island sunset is just...

Well, it brings a very unabashed smile of pure appreciation to her lips.

Plus, the mental image of Junior in a little swimsuit and building her first sandcastle (with lots of help) is really fucking sweet.

But in reality, what they've got right this instant is good. It's really good. Compared to what they just came from, it's almost too good to be true. And it's certainly too good to spend too much time daydreaming rather than soaking up what's right here right now.

Spike's the one who's always said he's an opportunist, but they both know she's one, too.

She kisses his nose first, then his mouth again, then his chin. He's practically asking for it. "Why don't we just eat in here after all?"

Minimal clothing's required in here. And she really would like to let Junior get as much of a nap as possible.

[not_that_spike]

He's missed those days of let's go upstairs and want some? and love you, Beth and he didn't even know how much he's missed them until just now. He gets this little pang at the thought of throwing on a pair of sweats -- clean ones, at that -- and a t-shirt, again clean, and stepping through the portrait and into the bar, ordering dinner for two like he's never been gone. Like they've never been gone, like they've just been holing up here in the House of Arch. No Earth, no invisibility cloak, no lean times, no Israeli army, no Yorick.

No hiding.

In theory, he's missed a few people at the bar and he wouldn't mind running into them: Elaine, Tom, Door, Moiraine. Faye. People like that. But if he doesn't see them... well, shit, they can leave notes this time, because going out again will be intentional.

The words what do you want are right there, right on his lips, but he doesn't ask them quite yet. There has to be a better way to phrase it so it's a little less abrupt, a little more seductive. Yeah, he's good with his hands but he's good with words, too, and he's relaxed as anything right here fresh out of the shower with Beth, but his mind's always busy, always going.

Kissing her lips, then her cheek -- the feel of her skin is so damn electric, just like always -- he lets out a satisfied little sigh. "Just let me know, Slim, if there's anything special you want." He already decided on one of those really big hamburgers but hell, he might splurge and get a whole buffet's worth of food. It's been so long since he could.

And if what Beth says she wants isn't food... well, he's good with that, too.

[stbethadettes]

She could pry herself away and check Joe's watch now, but since she hadn't glanced at it before they got in the shower she has no idea exactly how long it's been since they got back.

"Anything special?"

Tilting her head slightly, she leans the weight of her body against him. There are plenty of answers she could give him, but she thinks she's going to have to go for the plain and serious answer. No matter how much she's smiling at him.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

[not_that_spike]

"Depends what's for dessert."

That's... probably not the answer she's looking for, but it's the first one that pops out of his mouth and since he's started, he might as well capitalize on it. "I mean, I could get potechi if you're in the mood." Reaching over, he traces the length of her scar with his index finger. It's been a long time since he had the opportunity to do that, and food or not -- meeting up again with Hero or not -- he's not going to pass it up.

"But seriously? I can eat as fast as I have to." He's never been bad at wolfing down his food, but the past six months have turned that into something of an art form for him. He knows one thing he's definitely getting before they leave for Paris again, and that's lots and lots and lots of trail mix and jerky and dried fruit and things like that. Hell, maybe Bar even has those dehydrated food packs, the ones where you just add water and they spring back into form as a whole meal. He has some of those stashed away in the lockbox on the Swordfish, come to think of it, or at least he used to. They probably expired a few years ago.

All this thought of food makes his stomach growl; he directs Beth's hand to the flat of his stomach. He knows he's skinnier than he was six months ago, not like he had any extra to lose in the first place. But it's okay. The alternative was staying here and getting fat alone.

And wouldn't that have been just fucking great.

"What do you want me to bring back for us?"

(He's easy.)

[stbethadettes]

She gives him a look that's probably nearly surprised enough in its delight to make someone think she'd forgotten what it's like to be blatantly flirted with.

(Well, it has been a while since they had the luxury of the time and opportunity for that kind of thing.)

It wasn't the first answer she was expecting -- though maybe it should've been -- but it's the best answer he could've given her, and she touches her forehead to his, feeling like she's grinning like a goddamn fool.

And as her fingers splay over his stomach, she can't possibly resist stealing another kiss. "I don't want you to go anywhere just yet."

The real issue is how much time she can spend with him just like this. Food will be nice and she really is sort of determined that they -- especially Spike -- get something filling to eat before they leave, but she just can't help wanting to stretch this particular moment out as long as she can get away with it.

[not_that_spike]

Well, damn: he doesn't want to go anywhere just yet either. It's the two of them alone together in their own room wearing nothing but towels, with Junior asleep in her crib. They haven't had an opportunity like this one in six months and he's not going to be the practical one here. He's never rushed out of a situation like this his entire life, and he won't start now.

"Tell you what." She's right here, just begging to be made out with, as if they're sixteen-year-olds who finally got the car on a Friday night. "Let's wait till Junior wakes up. Then I'll go get us some food, and if Hero's there waiting, I'll bring her back with me and we can all eat together." That whole hour limitation was kind of made in the heat of the moment, when they were all still astonished they'd found this place and besides, they haven't had good relaxed time with Hero either. They all kind of deserve to be able to take a deep, deep breath and just fucking relax.

"How's that sound?" As if he can resist her: she's always been his biggest weakness. With her hand still playing on his no-longer-rumbling stomach, he steals one kiss and then another and then another... and then he stops counting them. All he knows is how good this all is right here and right now. Fuck Paris, fuck food. Fuck Yorick. Fuck invisibility cloaks and the Israeli army and hiding and searching. Fuck all of it.

He's got Beth.