CHAPTER FIVE:
"So, what are you going to do today, Mr. Sunshine?" She hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and pulled him with her as she stepped back towards the door.
He grimaced and allowed himself to be impelled forward. "Umm... you know smoke a kipper, light a pipe and sit in me slippers contemplating the meaning of life or unlife as the case may be."
"OK, so basically nothing?" Her back hit against the door and she stalled in momentum, quivering in anticipation as he continued to advance, closing the space between them and leaning into her.
"There's always 'Passions'."
"Not on your own, there's not... unless you're planning on getting to know your hand a lot better." She reached for a hand and interlaced fingers with him. "Though these are good hands to know."
A strange smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he reached out with his free hand to smooth a strand of hair to the side of her face. "I was talking about the TV show, Love. But if you'd prefer me to leave you with more... interesting imagery."
"My Mom liked that show."
"Then your Mum had good taste... which is more than I can say for you." He needled her with a quiet chuckle and a half-hearted attempt at tickling her ribs and she smiled grateful for the joke.
Grateful for him.
Their eyes met and suddenly she was only aware of blue. That particular brilliant, sapphire blue that was uniquely and essentially him. Blue all around her, streaming over her skin, raining through her soul and pouring itself into her womb. She sighed and closed her eyes against the demanding pulse of her core. "I really have to go. I have an appointment with a prairie dog."
"Uh-huh"
"See you soon." She said but it came out as more of a question.
"Of course."
She liked the sound of that. So... certain. She kissed him quickly and made her exit before she could be drawn deeper.
She crossed the threshold and closed the door with a beleaguered sigh.
Home.
Closing her eyes against the raging of her racing thoughts her thoughts turned to him. Instinctively she sought him out and with a few steps forward he came into view.
There. On that dreaded sofa, he sat. Feet up on the coffee table, head back against the back of the sofa. Asleep. Not dead. Undead. She had to keep reminding herself for it was easy to forget. Easy to imagine there was a heartbeat drumming underneath her head when she lay against his chest. But there was none. Nothing. Nothing in there.
But him.
Whoever that was.
Slipping out of her coat, she went to turn off the television and glanced back at him in the newly instigated silence. She allowed her feet to carry herself to him and felt him stir awake as she straddled his lap and collapsed against his chest.
Home.
"Hello, Love."
There was no heartbeat but something low in the vacuum of his chest rumbled with every word he spoke and vibrated through her. She smiled. She couldn't help herself. She nestled her head into the nook of his neck and made an indistinct sound of greeting.
"How'd it go?"
The words sent a jolt through her and she sat up, back like a rod. "Cryptic... I don't want to talk about it."
"It can't be that bad... Can it?"
His still heavy-lidded eyes were pouring with concern and it was more than she could bare. And yet she couldn't look away. Bringing her hands up to his head she ran her fingers through his tousled hair, loosening the curls from the remainder of the gel, or whatever he used to slick it back.
"It was just..." She drifted off, all energy for speech deserting her and so she kissed him. Lazily, languidly and he didn't hurry the pace. But it had the desired effect. A breath of rejuvenation coursed through her and awakened each and every cell in turn. Tuning her body into him. She shifted in his lap, pushing her hips against his and smiled into their deepening kisses as she felt him respond. His hands were on her arms, squeezing gently and then with more pressure as he drew her torso against his only to stop with a start and release her.
Their lips parted and even without opening her eyes she knew what she had done. She opened her eyes and her sight confirmed what her other senses had been telling her. She stared down at the stake she had pressed against his chest. Right in the centre of the still remaining nail-polish target. Her knuckles white with the intensity of her grip.
He began what was supposed to be a deep breath but was cut off as the pressure of the pointed weapon pressed into his skin. "Fair enough. But what a way to go."
Her brow knitted as her gaze lifted back to his eyes. Big mistake. She was so easily lost in those eyes. Or was it found? "My spirit guide told me that Death is my Gift."
He said nothing for a long time, made not one move for an infinite moment. His hand slowly moved up to her face and she didn't flinch as he painted his fingertips down the centre of her face. She closed her eyes as he moved over her eyelids and let out a long breath as his fingers lingered on her lips. "It's more than that. It's your Art. It's what you are... but not who you are."
She knew as his fingers moved to caress her cheeks that they would be wet and she watched his face as he traced the tracks of her tears and bought his fingers to his mouth to taste them. Just as he did she licked her lips and tasted the salt for herself.
"And look at you now. All in Slayer-mode." The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, a strange glint in his eyes. "I know, it makes sense. Vampire" He pointed at himself and then her. "Vampire Slayer." His eyes dropped for a moment. "Stake... and heart." His hand came against her own heart and she became aware of just how vigorously it was thumping in her chest. Her pulse thudding an erratic Morse code through her chest and into his hand.
She dropped the stake. "Kill me." She sighed, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against his. Her now empty hands coming up to cup each side of his face.
"What?"
"Poetic metaphor... You know, you being the expert and all." She felt his facial muscles re-arrange themselves into a grin and smiled herself. She couldn't help herself. And she didn't want to.
Their mouths met again in blind instinct and she settled into him once more. The tensions of the day abated from her body and melted into the ether around them only for her to remember where she was. "Not here." She gasped out desperately, her body setting taut as he impelled her back to lie on the sofa.
"Yes. Here." His mouth moved to her neck and she shuddered despite her panic.
"But -"
"I know. Bad memories." He stopped and lifted his head to look at her, all seriousness and understanding. "You need to make some good memories to attach to this place... balance things out a bit. Or else it's always going to plague you."
"I -"
"I know."
And he did, somehow he always did.
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