Dedicated to the lovely Laurence Quill and BUNNY on Elysian Fields…who has made certain that this little fic is NOT forgotten by me. I hope it was worth the wait.
Thank you to everyone who took time to review, encourage and favorite/alert!
Four
Fury blazed through him, the slim bolt of wood that he caught in his hand forgotten as splintered fragments littered the floor. Fear surrounded him in a haze so thick, so palpable, he could almost touch it, almost taste it.
The walls around him echoed with angry voices shouting over one another, a confusing mix of "get away from her", "...bloodsucking leech..." and "stop it stop it. He didn't mean it, don'thurthimplease."
His eyes locked on the man at the door with the crossbow, watched the slight tremor in the man's hand as he slotted another bolt and took aim. Behind him, the young girl tried to push him out of the way, voice choked with desperation and tears but it was all for naught. His chest expanded, his arms bowed out slightly from his body as he tried to make himself as big a target as possible while her words turned into a steady repetition of one word screamed out like a prayer filled with terror and hope.
"…no, don't! Buf-fy!. BUF-fy! BUF- FY !"
Two more bodies joined the men in the doorway, two female voices added to the mix. The dark haired man with crossbow relaxed his stance a moment as turned toward one woman with short red hair, his voice harsh and cold.
"..out of control. I mean just look at him… Don't know what she was thinking…"
"No…Willow…no," The girl behind him directed her words to the red-haired woman as well, her plea edged with panic that had him curling his fingers like they were claws. "He's wrong. It's my fault…please…tell them to stop. He is just trying to-"
The other man, older than the others, raised a hand, his words measured and clipped like a man used to being in control. "…as it may, I am not sure now is the time to…"
Their attention pulled away from him and he relaxed slightly, his fingers loosened around the young girl's wrist and in the blink of an eye she pulled free, scooted around him and sprinted toward the men, toward the …
…danger. She's in danger. Made a promise I did…
…men.
The man with the crossbow lowered his arm slightly as he spoke and it drifted to the left until the weapon was unknowingly aimed toward the girl. Once again, his vision sharpened and he zeroed in on the man's agitated movements, on the index finger absently tightening and loosening on the trigger as he gestured wildly while speaking to the women.
Faster than he thought possible, he launched himself into the air as the bolt sprung free.
The last noise he heard was a primal roar that echoed within the room, then silence.
Like statues, each person froze, eyes wide while no one hardly dared to breathe, but he didn't look their way. His back to the crowd at the door, he stood facing the girl, who stared back with startled blue eyes while he quickly examined her form to assure himself she had not been injured. Her arm twitched. His eyes tracked its jerky movement while she raised her arm and extended her index finger out slightly until it touched the square-shaped head of the bolt he'd caught in his hand, just a scant inch from her forehead.
Gently, she rubbed the tip of her finger over the deadly, steel tip and it was if a spell had been broken. Once again, as they had with the previous bolt, his fingers tightened around the bolt until it splinted into fragments, a growl rumbling at the back of his throat as remembered the careless actions of the younger man.
Then the girl started to shake, trembled from head to toe and she launched herself into his body, arms wrapped around his waist while she jabbered out a stream of words.
"yousavedme. Again. Ohmygodyou…you…savedme."
Before he could speak, a door downstairs slammed.
"I'm back." Though it was not raised in a yell, he could hear the woman's voice as clearly as if she were in the room.
"Uh—up h-here." The soft hesitant voice belonged to one of the women nearby and he flicked his eyes amongst the group to search out its owner. All he saw, though, was a flash of wheat colored hair and then the red headed woman shifted, her stance protective.
He looked at the red head and a flash of understanding passed between them and he almost smiled in approval.
The sound of feet running lightly up the stairs and then the voice again.
"What's going –why is…"
Uneasily, the group at the door shifted and then she stepped into the room. Slowly, she looked at him then at the girl (yousavedme. You. Saved. Me) and then her eyes slowly inspected the room – the broken cup upon the floor surrounded by a thick, red stain; the ashen-faced dark-haired man staring at the young girl with horror on his face, the crossbow forgotten at his feet; the trembling girl wrapped around him like a…like a…(a quick picture of something, the name of which name escaped him for the moment).
"Xander, Giles…out." Her voice was quiet but carried such authority that the men left with nary a word, the younger man tripped in his haste to clear the room and the older paused to look at the woman. Something unspoken passed between them, the older man frowned with disappointment and the woman's eyes narrowed in response.
The man left and they were alone, the young girl's arms tight around his torso while the woman watched him warily from the door, fingers of her right hand twitching as if they strained to reach for some unseen object.
The door closed and the tension seemed to drain from the young girl's body, but she still held tightly around his middle. The woman, though, continued in her steady regard. From out of the room, he could hear the shuffling of feet dragging on stairs, words speaking in hushed whispers and did not relax until his…his...his…instincts? (was that the right word? It seemed apt, but something told him that it really wasn't) told him the danger was past.
Like she had been waiting for some kind of signal, the woman moved toward him, her steps slow and precise like he was the threat and not the men outside. Slowly, she reached out her arm and took the young girl's hand, her eyes examined the girl carefully as if checking for injuries. The girl's hold around him loosened and she stepped back slightly, cheeks wet with salty tears and eyes filled with such misery it made his heart ache.
"It's my fault. I thought he would be…" she gestured helplessly toward the shattered cup on the floor with a trembling finger "…and he smelled the…you know…and I know you said to give him time but I just wanted to…but then I…" she gestured toward the cup again "and…the smell, it must have…and then Giles and Xander came in and …they thought he was gonna…but he wasn't Buffy" she started to shake her head vehemently, the long strands of her hair moving with the motion "and I tried to tell them, but you know Xander, he thought I was gonna get hurt."
"I know, Dawn" she agreed quietly as the girl continued to talk, stumbling over words and half sentences but the older woman seemed to have no difficulty following along. When the girl paused for air, the woman smoothly maneuvered them until the girl was at the door.
"Dawn, let me talk to Spike for a few minutes, okay? Tell the others...I'll be right down."
"You won't..." she gave a half-hearted thrust of her wrist "...will you?"
"It will be okay."
With a last glance toward him, the girl nodded and left.
Much MUCH shorter than my usual chapters, but a much faster update as a trade off...what did you think?