Chapter Six, A Bit of Pillow Talk
Even in the discomfort of the boat, Buffy Summers has never felt so perfectly and incredibly sated. . . not after sex with Angel and most definitely not after sex with Parker even though she convinced herself of such at the time. She decides to allow herself a few minutes to enjoy the afterglow before getting on with the need to find her mother and friends. Shoving aside the rather large pang of guilt, she rests her head on Spike's chest and tries to mindfully focus on the lulling sway of their vessel.
Spike is afraid to open his mouth because he might provoke the Slayer – something he knows he's good at doing. He's enjoying the heavy weight of her body against him following much different sex from their wedding night.
The wedding night had been no holds barred, loud, and intense and all of that more than once. It was amazing that they hadn't roused all the hotel patrons and gotten themselves kicked to the curb. There had still been feelings there, so it wasn't just fucking, but the reality was that the feelings were magically-induced or at the very least, enhanced. This. . . what just happened between them was. . . Spike can't put it into words, and now, she's cuddled up with him, limp and satisfied, and he feels kind of. . . .
All he knows is that something momentous has happened with her and within himself. He traces two fingertips over her hip and closes his eyes in the tiny shelter.
Buffy shifts her head so that her chin props up on her hand and she can see his face. "Spike?"
"Yeah, pet?"
"Are you still. . . you?" She's a little nervous about how he'll react to the question and hopes he doesn't take it as something to take away from what just happened between them.
Spike feels her holding her breath, and this stays his usual reactivity to allusions of Angel. "Hell's bells, Slayer. Of course, it's me." He shifts his hand from her hip to her waist and draws her closer.
She places her cheek back against his chest. "Sorry. I just, uh. . ."
"He told me. Long time ago. So I understand why you're asking." Spike knows that even though he has no soul to lose, she's still afraid he'll be different – cruel – now that they've had sex. Lord knows he's deliberately said hurtful things to her before.
"What part?" Buffy knows what part. Pain stabs momentarily in her chest, but it dissipates more quickly than it used to.
Spike doesn't answer her question and instead says, "If you must know, I'm scared, too." He opens his eyes and gazes at the cloudless green sky above. . . green like her eyes. Huh. He hadn't expected that.
"You are?"
"Of course."
"Of what?"
"Lots of things like for instance, what happens after we get out of this dimension and we're around your Watcher and your pals again? What will your mum think? Will you even tell them? And. . ." Spike trails off, uncertain whether to admit his deepest fear of the moment, which has more to do with what she thinks just happened between them. Instead, he goes with the easier thing to fess up to, "I haven't exactly had the greatest track record with women."
Buffy thinks about scary-crazy Drusilla and how Spike was willing to form an alliance with her – the enemy – to get his dark princess away from Angelus. She always assumed that Angelus and Dru had emotionally hurt Spike in some way, and now given what he told her earlier on the river, she wonders just how much. Spike and Drusilla had been together over a century, so Buffy imagines that there could be quite a lot of potential for pain. If what she's learning about Spike is correct, he probably wasn't the one doing a lot of the hurting. "What about Harmony?"
Spike snorts. "Harmony doesn't count."
"Poor Harmony." Buffy is starting to think that maybe Harmony was his rebound relationship kind of like Parker was hers.
"She finally got up the kahunas to kick me out though when I got the bloody chip in my head." Spike pauses and recalls just how pissed he'd been but also how badly he'd treated her. "Just as she should have."
Buffy laughs. "Good for her."
After several seconds of silence, Spike runs a hand over her forearm to find her damaged wrist, which is already healing nicely. He skims his thumb over her puckered skin, and he hopes it doesn't leave a scar. Buffy studies his hand touching her, exploring her and ignores the wave of desire this incites.
His voice is deep in her ear. "What made you decide to? I mean. . ."
Buffy's response is automatic. "You weren't responding; I got scared; I didn't really think about it. I just did it."
"Oh." He can't hide his disappointment.
She kisses his chest. "I'd do it again."
"How'd you know I would stop. . . that I wouldn't drain you and leave you for dead?"
Buffy considers the broken chip in his head. He could hurt her, even kill her, now if he wanted to. "I dunno. I just took a chance. Followed my instincts. Why'd you stop?"
Spike considers this. "S'pose I'm following my instincts, too." He asks the next question before he can talk himself out of it. "And after?"
Spike's earlier admission of fear gives her courage, and she pushes the back of her hand against his palm and entwines her fingers with his so that his grandmother's gold band presses up against his empty ring finger. "It felt right. I'd do that again, too." She swears she feels him relax behind her.
After several more comfortable minutes pass, Spike breaks their reverie first, dragging her shirt over her torso. "We should. . ."
Buffy's guilt surges forward. "Crap." She hastily gets dressed. "I'll get the boat out in the water. You stay here. The current here is slower but should be enough to keep us going."
Spike threads his arm through and rings his head with his still damp shirt. He claps a hand on her uninjured arm as she starts to duck into the sunlight. "Hey."
She glances back at him, worry and fear for her family and friends all over her face.
"Don't beat yourself up, love. You needed time to heal, as did I. We'd be no good if we didn't get a bit of rest after that last fight." He views the guilt lighten in her eyes, and he feels glad that he can relieve that burden at least.
She smiles. "Thank you." She swings her legs over the side of the boat, and Spike hears her splash into the water.
Buffy relishes the warmth of the dual suns' rays on her back, especially given that she's soaked and cold again from the river water. They're moving along at a slower clip now because the river isn't rushing toward a giant waterfall, but at least their speed is fast enough that Buffy doesn't feel the need to pull out the paddles – or rather, paddle – to help the boat along.
The visual of the river monster's hulking carcass wedged in the river bank near the base of the waterfall was enough of a reminder that there could be danger lurking. So now, Spike is watching the rear from inside the shaded shelter, and Buffy is alert to the front. She also scans the water and surrounding forest for signs that her mom, Giles, and friends have come this way.
Spike is just out of her reach but close enough that Buffy senses the palpable physical connection between them. He doesn't even have to touch her, and she knows something's different between them. God, she still can't believe she let him drink her and then have sex with her – and of her own volition. And they'd even had a decent conversation after. She didn't realize he could be so kind and compassionate. . . and real with his feelings.
"So," she starts in an attempt to distract herself from the seriousness of their situation, "did those little Dynas demons tell you anything about what happens after we get out of Phut territory?"
Spike keeps his eyes focused on as many distant focal points as he can. As the intimacy of the earlier post-coital conversation evaporates, he feels increasingly unsure of his own feelings as well as hers. Not looking at her helps. "No. I'm afraid I was doing good just to get what I did from them. My bet though is that something is going to come up that's going to help us out. I highly doubt that we're going to be stuck out here with no leads."
Buffy shifts uncomfortably on her seat, the unhewn wood rough on her bottom. "You're right. Someone has to leave us a clue."
"My money's on your mum."
"Why do you say that?" Buffy is genuinely curious. Spike has an affinity that she doesn't quite understand for her mom, and from talking with her mom about it, the feeling is mutual.
Spike scans the shoreline for movement or anything that seems different. "Well, your mum is the least touched by the supernatural world. She's going to be more open-minded, alert, and aware than any of the others."
Buffy considers this for a moment. She thinks it's an argument about the difference between beginner's luck and experience. "That could make sense."
"And she's a smart, observant lady."
"Are you saying Giles, Xander, and Anya aren't?" She still can't get over that the sky is green.
"No. Just that the three of them have a filter on the world that your mum doesn't." Spike tries to think of the softest way he can put his assessment into words without completely alienating the Slayer. "Rupert and the boy have a stick up their arses."
"Okay. Really." Buffy bites the inside of her cheek, surprising herself by not reacting. "Meaning?"
"They hold on tight to their view of the world because it makes them feel safe." Spike doesn't know all the reasons for this, but he knows enough from staying at the two men's respective homes. "Like they have the answers. There's comfort in that to a point, but it makes them blind. Vulnerable."
"And Anya?"
"From all accounts, she's caught up in the whelp."
Buffy squints as one of the suns peeps out from behind a cloud to send rays into her face. "She's lost the edge that being a demon gave her?"
"Something like that. More like she's still getting her human legs, and she's leaning on her boy to help her out. How long was she a vengeance demon?" Spike has no clue how she's adjusting to being human; he only knows that he would have a hell of a time with a transition like that.
Apparently, Buffy agrees. "Longer than you've been a vampire."
"Right. So there you go." Spike sneaks a glance at the Slayer's face to see how she's taking what he's been saying.
Buffy meets his gaze, and with her next words, she sounds surer. "My mom's got this."
He gives her a small smile. "Let's hope so, pet."
"So how does all of what you just said. . . how does it apply to us?" Buffy has some thoughts, but something about this whole situation is making her more inclined to listen to Spike, someone she never in a million years considered would be worth listening to.
Spike chuckles. His girl is smart. Wait. Did he really just think of the Slayer as his girl? He decides he better check himself if he thinks she won't put the pointy end of a stake in his heart given the right set of circumstances. "That's a good question. Do you think you have preconceived notions of what demons and vampires are?"
"Maybe. I only know what I've been told and what I've experienced." She shifts her tone to one of levity and says almost drone-like, "Must kill demons and vampires. Must avert apocalypses to save the world."
He can see she's thinking by the far off look on her face, so he keeps quiet, letting her continue.
"And I know it's not all black and white as I said before. I mean, what allowed me to partner with you. . . what happened with Angelus and Angel and sorting through my feelings about all of that. . . deciding what to do. Dealing with Faith and her actions. All of that means I can and do step outside of the box of my stated job description. Well, the Council's mandated job description for Slayers." She finally returns his earlier smile and keeps going, "They really don't make a handbook for that part of the job. Not that I've read the handbook. If a handbook even exists."
Spike suddenly realizes that her stepping outside of the box is some of what makes Buffy so attractive. . . so appealing to him on a gut level, and he leans forward, his forearms on his thighs, wishing the clouds would allow enough cover that he could kiss her. "Right. And that's what makes you a decent Slayer."
She's a little amused and a little offended, but her eyes sparkle and her tone comes off as playful. "Just decent?"
He decides she's not ready for part of what he wishes he could say, and while in the past, he would have said exactly what he thought without sugarcoating it, he finds himself wanting to allow her time to digest things. "Well, you're not dead yet."
"Gee. Thanks." Silence fills the air for a few seconds, and then Buffy asks, "So, Mr. Vampire, what about you?"
He lifts an eyebrow at her.
"How have your life and circumstances skewed your view of things?"
The sound of the water and the steady thump of the turning rudder quiet Spike's mind, allowing him the space to consider her query. When he responds, he isn't sure he's exactly answering her because his words have nothing to do with being a vampire. "The time period I grew up in and my experiences have skewed my view of women and what I believe I deserve in a relationship."
"And what, pray tell, do you believe you deserve?"
"Not very much."
This isn't what Buffy expects by a long shot, and hearing the vulnerability in his voice tells her everything about how she could destroy him if she wanted to. Him telling her makes her want to do the opposite. God, all that swagger and snark to cover this. Her heart aches a little at the thought.
"And that is my weakness," he concludes, averting his gaze and staring to the left so that he can't even see her, his face neutral.
He startles when she puts a warm hand over the top of his cooler one. She doesn't say anything, just simply squeezes his hand and regards him with such genuine kindness in her emerald eyes that he doesn't know what to do.
"You should eat something," he finally says when he can bear her tenderness no more.
"Have you seen what's left in Mom's bag?"
Spike reaches back for said bag and rummages around in it. He holds up and examines a very squashed granola bar. "Doesn't look too worse for wear. No holes in the packaging."
At the sight of something even remotely edible, Buffy's stomach growls. "Fine." She snatches the bar and rips it open. The most delicious almonds and cranberries she's ever tasted fill her mouth as she resumes her mission of scanning their environment for clues. Funny how hunger changes the taste buds. "Mmmm." She swallows. "Protein is of the good."
"And there's one more where that came from. And thermoses of water and blood. No weapons and the first aid supplies are gone." Spike glances up, and almost immediately, his eyes light on something that Buffy missed in the trees. "Hey!"
Buffy swallows another bite of granola bar and swerves around, making the boat sway. "What?!"
"Is that red over there –"
Buffy squints. "I think it's a scrap of Xander's Hawaiian shirt!"
"And another Dynas boat. Wedged there in the brush!"
"I see it!"
They grin at one another.
Buffy hands Spike the rest of her meal and begins paddling against the current, Slayer strength coming in handy once again.
