ANs: Ok, reunion at last. Hope you like! Btw, no political agenda when I cited Gaza as a war-torn environment. It was just the first thing that came to mind. Personal ANs next time 'cause this one wore me out. Hugs! sita:)
40 Paces
Sunnydale, CA
October 3, 2001 7:00AM
The central business district and the surrounding residential streets were smoldering. Smoke floated up from trash piles, cars, stores, homes, and bodies. The ever-efficient local cover-up agents, also know as the Sunnydale Fire, Police, and Waste Management Departments, had been dispatched but there was significant carnage and they had yet to clear most of the debris from the overnight demonic mayhem. Logan, Ororo, and Scott saw the destruction from the air.
"So... this is life in Sunnydale three months after losing the Slayer? I've been here before to visit the girls and... for the funerals. It doesn't usually... It looks like Gaza on a bad day..." Scott confided.
"I guess she won't be coming home with us," Logan grumbled.
Scott nodded philosophically, "Probably not... We're landing in a minute. Do you want to go to Buffy's house immediately or do you want to find a hotel first? I assume you're staying overnight at least?"
"First we go to the cemetery."
Twenty minutes later, despite his protestations to remain in the car, Scott found himself in Sunnydale's newest graveyard. How did Logan always know the right buttons to push? This time, Scott had to admit he knew. Logan had employed a few smart ass questions that sounded less like questions and conspicuously more like a dare. Standing in the same spot he had occupied several months ago was uncomfortable enough, but this time the ground had been pulled apart and Buffy's coffin was empty. While he had seen some amazing mutant powers since arriving at Xavier's School, his mind reeled at the thought that a human could harness the power to return life to the dead.
Crouching down over Buffy's empty grave, Logan lifted a handful of moist soil and sifted it through his fingers. Scott and Ororo stood behind him, watching and waiting.
"Is there something here you needed, Logan?" Ororo prompted mildly.
Logan shook his head. He turned back and looked up at her, his eyes full of anger. "Do you see what I see?"
Scott chuckled, "Yeah, apparently my cousin got married and I wasn't invited to the wedding."
"I was running a fever and... aw, just get over it." Logan growled and motioned toward the ground. "Look again."
Ororo gasped and covered her mouth with one hand, "There aren't any shovel marks... the grave is barely disturbed. She tunneled..."
Wavering slightly on his feet, as if he couldn't quite accept the evidence in front of him, Scott muttered, "My God, she woke up inside the coffin and had to..."
Logan nodded. "I thought she might have. "Let's go."
The drive from the cemetery to Revello Drive had been silent and tense, but as they pulled up to the house, Logan was truly shocked. He hadn't expected the formidable Slayer to live in such a Rockwellian home. With its large picture window with a view to the living room and a simple wooden door, it was barely defensible. Surely she saw that. He didn't have a preconceived, specific mental picture of what her house would look like, but he'd definitely thought it would be more like a bunker and less like the opening scene of a sitcom. He knew that before she was the Slayer she had led a fairly normal life, but that was in Los Angeles. She'd been the Slayer since before she arrived here. She would have been involved in the selection process with her mother. And what was it about this place that made her want to remain after her mother had passed away?
As they exited the car, Logan could hear the shower running upstairs. It was Buffy. He could smell the soap mixing with her natural scent. Buffy was standing naked under a spray of hot water. He could almost see it cascading over her skin. Fierce need pounded through his blood and suddenly he felt slightly dizzy.
On the porch, he caught more of her scent and others, Xander, Willow, and three other women. Two of the women he'd never met before, but there was something familiar about the third. It was like Buffy's but with subtle differences, and there was something else buried underneath. It was like lightening, or electricity running through wire. And then he understood; only someone who originated as a source of great energy could have such a scent. It was Dawn. As the door slowly opened, Logan recognized another familiar smell, the noxious stench of the blood-sucking walking dead. It wasn't Angel, but there was a vampire who was a frequent visitor to the Summers' home. He didn't like that at all.
"Scott!" Dawn cried, as she threw her arms around her cousin.
"Dawnie!" he laughed, as he happily accepted her hug.
Pushing the door open wider, Dawn exclaimed, "C'mon on in, you guys." Then she saw Logan and gulped. There was something wild and predatory about him. It was in his eyes, in the air all around him. Recovering quickly, she added, "I thought that jet was supposed to be like super fast - took you long enough. Xander, Anya, Will, and Tara are out back talking about stuff I'm not supposed to hear. Can I... can I get you anything?"
Dawn barely stepped aside in time as Logan made for the stairs. When he put his hand on the railing, Dawn quickly slid hers underneath his, and separated him from the wooden bar. Then she whispered, "Look, I know you want to go up there, but you need to understand some things about Buffy first. Just give me a minute, ok?"
Logan was nearly undone by the gentleness of the youngest Summers' girl. Something about her reminded him of Marie. Maybe it was her mix of vulnerability and strength, he acknowledged. Nodding dumbly, he allowed himself to be led along with the others into the living room. As soon as everyone was seated, Dawn sighed.
"Buffy's not the same as she was," she began, "not that she came back evil or wrong or zombie-ish in any way – but she's been through something major. She can't talk about it. All she said was that time passed much slower where she was. Willow thinks that she was in a hell dimension and that's pretty much the story everyone's going with. I don't know what happened to her, but when I found her, after she'd... after she'd dug herself out... she asked me if this was hell. I found her on the tower, and if I hadn't stopped her, she would have jumped again."
"So what are you saying, Dawn?" Scott demanded.
"I'm saying we need to be patient. She's still Buffy and she's still the Slayer. In fact," Dawn said, leaning forward with pride shining in her eyes, "last night, even though her hands were all torn up from digging, she killed a slew of demons that were starting fires and breaking stuff all over the place. But then when we got home everyone was talking at once and... you should have seen her eyes... they looked confused and scared at the same time, like the day when she came to pick me up at school and told me that Mom was dead."
Dawn stood and walked over to stand directly in front of a still seated Logan. "If you go up there, be careful. Don't rush in... and run her over with your emotional baggage. Ok?"
Logan nodded and moved past Dawn. That sounded like good advice and he genuinely appreciated it. Before he reached the stairs, Dawn confessed a little sadly, "Logan... she never knew you called."
Inwardly stricken but outwardly detached, Logan paused for a second and then climbed the steps to Buffy.
When she woke that morning, Buffy realized that it wasn't just some horrible nightmare. She was home, back on the Hellmouth, and everyone except Dawn and Spike expected her to act as if she wasn't in the least bit devastated and miserable. In fact, it was as if they were waiting impatiently for her to express her earnest and deepest appreciation for their bestowing upon her the gift of life. Knowing that the others were downstairs, Buffy had forced herself to get out of bed, take a shower and get dressed.
As she reached into her closet to pull out her Nikes, she felt a chill and she just knew that someone vaguely familiar had come into the room. She heard him cross to the bed and casually sit down on the edge. Buffy whirled around and almost tripped over her feet when she saw him. He looked into her eyes and for a moment and something passed through them. Rapture. Hunger. Then it was gone.
"Ww-where..." she stammered slowly.
"Where did I come from?" Logan asked, as he reached a hand out toward her. Buffy didn't accept it, so he let it fall. "Sorry about the surprise. Scott, Ororo, and I just flew in."
Buffy shook her head and approached timidly, "No... I was going to say..." Pausing for a brief moment just beyond his reach, she wrapped her arms around herself, and tilted her head to one side slightly, "where have you been?"
Downstairs, Dawn was trying her best to keep her cousin and his friend entertained. She'd poured lemonade and put cookies on a plate, just like Mom used to do with her friends. But so far no one had touched any of it.
Scott smiled and tried to end his cousin's distress. "So, what's the backyard meeting about, Dawn?"
Dawn looked very relieved. "It must be about the latest big bad."
"Big bad?" Ororo asked.
"Yep. We've got a ghost or maybe a demon that can create scary hallucinations hanging around. No big. We'll deal."
"I didn't know there was any such thing as ghosts," Ororo commented.
Dawn just shrugged. "Sure. I mean, every weird legend you can imagine has shown up in Sunnydale at some point."
Ororo seemed a little dismayed. "It must be difficult to live here."
"It's alright. We're kinda used to it."
In Buffy's room, Logan offered her his hand again, "I've been waiting for you to return my call."
"Have you? I did-didn't know. No one told me..."
"I called almost every day for five weeks from the minute I heard your mother died. Before that, I wasn't sure you wanted to hear from me. Did you?"
Gradually she took the final step and cautiously rested her fingers against his palm. From this point of connection a shockwave of warmth passed through them. Logan brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. Biting back his outrage at the condition of her knuckles, Logan tried his best to appear calm.
Buffy shivered slightly but did not retreat. She's as timid as a deer, he thought, as he tamped down his rising desire. He wanted so badly to pull her against him, but if he made a mistake now the damage could be irrevocable. I'll be grateful she's back, he decided. I'll pay attention to every detail now, so that when we're apart again I'll have something tangible to remember. He inhaled deeply and waited as the seconds dragged.
"I did."
He exhaled quickly, and pulled in another lungful of Buffy's sweet fragrance. "Why didn't you contact me?"
Buffy smiled slightly and ventured a little closer. "I wanted to..."
"But you were afraid? Darlin', I know I'm not good at apologies, but I would have tried. No matter what, I would never intentionally hurt you."
Sitting down on the bed next to him, she blurted out, "It wasn't that... I didn't really know what happened. And then I was home and recovering and everyone was so protective of me and hostile... toward you. I didn't think that you meant to hurt me, but I couldn't convince them. Then I got well and I was caught up in slayer duties and the next thing I knew Mom was sick and Dawn and I practically lived in the hospital waiting room. And then she died. Logan, I came home and found my Mom dead on the couch downstairs and suddenly I had to take care of everything that she used to do. And during the entire time, Glory was searching for Dawn... and now I'm babbly Buffy..."
Logan put his arm around her. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. I wish like hell I had been here. And then he smiled, "I like babbly Buffy. She's cute."
"Not even close..." she began, but he stopped her protest by pressing a kiss to her forehead and urging her to lean back onto the bed with him.
Buffy looked up at him with fascination. His sepia eyes were beguiling, filled with a combination of humor and heat. He was so ruggedly beautiful. She loved his dark heavy brows and his long, thick eyelashes. Even his unfashionably long side burns and strange haircut appealed to her.
Suddenly, as the support of the bed met her body, Buffy felt a strange, overwhelming desire to see and touch him everywhere. Take your clothes off for me, whispered through her mind. Or... let me do it.
Swallowing convulsively, Buffy tried to regain control of her wayward thoughts, but it was difficult with Logan so close. Her eyes dropped to his lips. Remembering the feel of them, soft and warm against hers, she lightly traced his bottom lip with a solitary finger. Scenting her restlessness and growing need, Logan lowered his mouth and dropped a light kiss onto her outstretched palm. Relaxing, Buffy snuggled nearer to him, as if only he could keep out the cold that had settled over her skin since her return.
Logan risked the question that Dawn had raised earlier. "Was it very different where you were?"
"Everything is so sharp here... and violent. The soft moments like this one almost never come... in this place. And when they do, they're mostly laced with other things, like guilt, sadness, subtext..."
Surprised, Logan's mind worked furiously to understand. "So you were in a good place?"
A tear slid down Buffy's cheek as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. "Logan, I was in the best place imaginable. I was in paradise."
Logan lowered his eyes for a moment, then kissed her gently. "Like right now?"
Lightening her mood came so easily to him. Buffy laughed, "Are you trying to seduce me?"
"Why? Is it working?" he asked. Then he confessed with a wry grin, "No sweetheart, I was trying to be charming. Didn't pick up on that, eh?"
"Well, it has been a while since I've been charmed."
"Better prepare yourself. I plan to stick around for a little while... if you know of any hotels..."
Forgetting herself, Buffy cried, "Really?"
"Unless I can talk you into coming back to New York with me?" he angled.
Buffy's face fell. "I'd like to..."
Logan nodded his understanding. "But your sister and friends just got you back and Giles is on his way here from London."
"You could stay with us," Buffy suggested, but she knew when she said it that he wouldn't accept.
"Honey, I'd like to stay right here with you and never go anywhere else, but we have some hurdles to get over before we're ready to share a bed," replied Logan. Then with a wicked grin, he continued, "And I can't imagine sleeping on the downstairs sofa with Giles. He looks like a cover hog."
Buffy laughed, "Right..."
Logan started to stand and pulled her up with him. She protested softly, but Logan shook his head. "Your cousin and Ororo are downstairs. Your friends are having a meeting in the backyard that Dawn isn't supposed to attend. I need to get a hotel room, and you need to go be the Slayer."
Never had she regretted being chosen more. If only she could leave her duty behind and return with him to New York. Just seeing Logan and absorbing his warmth for a little while had healed and strengthened Buffy in ways that she couldn't have predicted, and her friends would never understand. Silently, she chastised herself for doubting his devotion. Regardless of what her friends and family had said, she should have called him to let him know she was alright. She should have believed in him.
Buffy reluctantly followed him downstairs. She hugged and chatted with Scott and Ororo for a few minutes before they had to go. Closing the door behind them, Buffy sighed and leaned against the wall.
"Got it bad, huh?" Dawn teased.
Buffy smiled, "Picked up on that, did ya?"
"Well, he IS a total honey," Dawn exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Think so?" Buffy asked.
Dawn laughed at her sister and threw an arm around her neck, "Are you kidding? All that hottie-ness... Even though he's totally old, with just a look, he could drop me at forty paces."
(end chapter)
40 Paces
Sunnydale, CA
October 3, 2001 7:00AM
The central business district and the surrounding residential streets were smoldering. Smoke floated up from trash piles, cars, stores, homes, and bodies. The ever-efficient local cover-up agents, also know as the Sunnydale Fire, Police, and Waste Management Departments, had been dispatched but there was significant carnage and they had yet to clear most of the debris from the overnight demonic mayhem. Logan, Ororo, and Scott saw the destruction from the air.
"So... this is life in Sunnydale three months after losing the Slayer? I've been here before to visit the girls and... for the funerals. It doesn't usually... It looks like Gaza on a bad day..." Scott confided.
"I guess she won't be coming home with us," Logan grumbled.
Scott nodded philosophically, "Probably not... We're landing in a minute. Do you want to go to Buffy's house immediately or do you want to find a hotel first? I assume you're staying overnight at least?"
"First we go to the cemetery."
Twenty minutes later, despite his protestations to remain in the car, Scott found himself in Sunnydale's newest graveyard. How did Logan always know the right buttons to push? This time, Scott had to admit he knew. Logan had employed a few smart ass questions that sounded less like questions and conspicuously more like a dare. Standing in the same spot he had occupied several months ago was uncomfortable enough, but this time the ground had been pulled apart and Buffy's coffin was empty. While he had seen some amazing mutant powers since arriving at Xavier's School, his mind reeled at the thought that a human could harness the power to return life to the dead.
Crouching down over Buffy's empty grave, Logan lifted a handful of moist soil and sifted it through his fingers. Scott and Ororo stood behind him, watching and waiting.
"Is there something here you needed, Logan?" Ororo prompted mildly.
Logan shook his head. He turned back and looked up at her, his eyes full of anger. "Do you see what I see?"
Scott chuckled, "Yeah, apparently my cousin got married and I wasn't invited to the wedding."
"I was running a fever and... aw, just get over it." Logan growled and motioned toward the ground. "Look again."
Ororo gasped and covered her mouth with one hand, "There aren't any shovel marks... the grave is barely disturbed. She tunneled..."
Wavering slightly on his feet, as if he couldn't quite accept the evidence in front of him, Scott muttered, "My God, she woke up inside the coffin and had to..."
Logan nodded. "I thought she might have. "Let's go."
The drive from the cemetery to Revello Drive had been silent and tense, but as they pulled up to the house, Logan was truly shocked. He hadn't expected the formidable Slayer to live in such a Rockwellian home. With its large picture window with a view to the living room and a simple wooden door, it was barely defensible. Surely she saw that. He didn't have a preconceived, specific mental picture of what her house would look like, but he'd definitely thought it would be more like a bunker and less like the opening scene of a sitcom. He knew that before she was the Slayer she had led a fairly normal life, but that was in Los Angeles. She'd been the Slayer since before she arrived here. She would have been involved in the selection process with her mother. And what was it about this place that made her want to remain after her mother had passed away?
As they exited the car, Logan could hear the shower running upstairs. It was Buffy. He could smell the soap mixing with her natural scent. Buffy was standing naked under a spray of hot water. He could almost see it cascading over her skin. Fierce need pounded through his blood and suddenly he felt slightly dizzy.
On the porch, he caught more of her scent and others, Xander, Willow, and three other women. Two of the women he'd never met before, but there was something familiar about the third. It was like Buffy's but with subtle differences, and there was something else buried underneath. It was like lightening, or electricity running through wire. And then he understood; only someone who originated as a source of great energy could have such a scent. It was Dawn. As the door slowly opened, Logan recognized another familiar smell, the noxious stench of the blood-sucking walking dead. It wasn't Angel, but there was a vampire who was a frequent visitor to the Summers' home. He didn't like that at all.
"Scott!" Dawn cried, as she threw her arms around her cousin.
"Dawnie!" he laughed, as he happily accepted her hug.
Pushing the door open wider, Dawn exclaimed, "C'mon on in, you guys." Then she saw Logan and gulped. There was something wild and predatory about him. It was in his eyes, in the air all around him. Recovering quickly, she added, "I thought that jet was supposed to be like super fast - took you long enough. Xander, Anya, Will, and Tara are out back talking about stuff I'm not supposed to hear. Can I... can I get you anything?"
Dawn barely stepped aside in time as Logan made for the stairs. When he put his hand on the railing, Dawn quickly slid hers underneath his, and separated him from the wooden bar. Then she whispered, "Look, I know you want to go up there, but you need to understand some things about Buffy first. Just give me a minute, ok?"
Logan was nearly undone by the gentleness of the youngest Summers' girl. Something about her reminded him of Marie. Maybe it was her mix of vulnerability and strength, he acknowledged. Nodding dumbly, he allowed himself to be led along with the others into the living room. As soon as everyone was seated, Dawn sighed.
"Buffy's not the same as she was," she began, "not that she came back evil or wrong or zombie-ish in any way – but she's been through something major. She can't talk about it. All she said was that time passed much slower where she was. Willow thinks that she was in a hell dimension and that's pretty much the story everyone's going with. I don't know what happened to her, but when I found her, after she'd... after she'd dug herself out... she asked me if this was hell. I found her on the tower, and if I hadn't stopped her, she would have jumped again."
"So what are you saying, Dawn?" Scott demanded.
"I'm saying we need to be patient. She's still Buffy and she's still the Slayer. In fact," Dawn said, leaning forward with pride shining in her eyes, "last night, even though her hands were all torn up from digging, she killed a slew of demons that were starting fires and breaking stuff all over the place. But then when we got home everyone was talking at once and... you should have seen her eyes... they looked confused and scared at the same time, like the day when she came to pick me up at school and told me that Mom was dead."
Dawn stood and walked over to stand directly in front of a still seated Logan. "If you go up there, be careful. Don't rush in... and run her over with your emotional baggage. Ok?"
Logan nodded and moved past Dawn. That sounded like good advice and he genuinely appreciated it. Before he reached the stairs, Dawn confessed a little sadly, "Logan... she never knew you called."
Inwardly stricken but outwardly detached, Logan paused for a second and then climbed the steps to Buffy.
When she woke that morning, Buffy realized that it wasn't just some horrible nightmare. She was home, back on the Hellmouth, and everyone except Dawn and Spike expected her to act as if she wasn't in the least bit devastated and miserable. In fact, it was as if they were waiting impatiently for her to express her earnest and deepest appreciation for their bestowing upon her the gift of life. Knowing that the others were downstairs, Buffy had forced herself to get out of bed, take a shower and get dressed.
As she reached into her closet to pull out her Nikes, she felt a chill and she just knew that someone vaguely familiar had come into the room. She heard him cross to the bed and casually sit down on the edge. Buffy whirled around and almost tripped over her feet when she saw him. He looked into her eyes and for a moment and something passed through them. Rapture. Hunger. Then it was gone.
"Ww-where..." she stammered slowly.
"Where did I come from?" Logan asked, as he reached a hand out toward her. Buffy didn't accept it, so he let it fall. "Sorry about the surprise. Scott, Ororo, and I just flew in."
Buffy shook her head and approached timidly, "No... I was going to say..." Pausing for a brief moment just beyond his reach, she wrapped her arms around herself, and tilted her head to one side slightly, "where have you been?"
Downstairs, Dawn was trying her best to keep her cousin and his friend entertained. She'd poured lemonade and put cookies on a plate, just like Mom used to do with her friends. But so far no one had touched any of it.
Scott smiled and tried to end his cousin's distress. "So, what's the backyard meeting about, Dawn?"
Dawn looked very relieved. "It must be about the latest big bad."
"Big bad?" Ororo asked.
"Yep. We've got a ghost or maybe a demon that can create scary hallucinations hanging around. No big. We'll deal."
"I didn't know there was any such thing as ghosts," Ororo commented.
Dawn just shrugged. "Sure. I mean, every weird legend you can imagine has shown up in Sunnydale at some point."
Ororo seemed a little dismayed. "It must be difficult to live here."
"It's alright. We're kinda used to it."
In Buffy's room, Logan offered her his hand again, "I've been waiting for you to return my call."
"Have you? I did-didn't know. No one told me..."
"I called almost every day for five weeks from the minute I heard your mother died. Before that, I wasn't sure you wanted to hear from me. Did you?"
Gradually she took the final step and cautiously rested her fingers against his palm. From this point of connection a shockwave of warmth passed through them. Logan brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. Biting back his outrage at the condition of her knuckles, Logan tried his best to appear calm.
Buffy shivered slightly but did not retreat. She's as timid as a deer, he thought, as he tamped down his rising desire. He wanted so badly to pull her against him, but if he made a mistake now the damage could be irrevocable. I'll be grateful she's back, he decided. I'll pay attention to every detail now, so that when we're apart again I'll have something tangible to remember. He inhaled deeply and waited as the seconds dragged.
"I did."
He exhaled quickly, and pulled in another lungful of Buffy's sweet fragrance. "Why didn't you contact me?"
Buffy smiled slightly and ventured a little closer. "I wanted to..."
"But you were afraid? Darlin', I know I'm not good at apologies, but I would have tried. No matter what, I would never intentionally hurt you."
Sitting down on the bed next to him, she blurted out, "It wasn't that... I didn't really know what happened. And then I was home and recovering and everyone was so protective of me and hostile... toward you. I didn't think that you meant to hurt me, but I couldn't convince them. Then I got well and I was caught up in slayer duties and the next thing I knew Mom was sick and Dawn and I practically lived in the hospital waiting room. And then she died. Logan, I came home and found my Mom dead on the couch downstairs and suddenly I had to take care of everything that she used to do. And during the entire time, Glory was searching for Dawn... and now I'm babbly Buffy..."
Logan put his arm around her. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. I wish like hell I had been here. And then he smiled, "I like babbly Buffy. She's cute."
"Not even close..." she began, but he stopped her protest by pressing a kiss to her forehead and urging her to lean back onto the bed with him.
Buffy looked up at him with fascination. His sepia eyes were beguiling, filled with a combination of humor and heat. He was so ruggedly beautiful. She loved his dark heavy brows and his long, thick eyelashes. Even his unfashionably long side burns and strange haircut appealed to her.
Suddenly, as the support of the bed met her body, Buffy felt a strange, overwhelming desire to see and touch him everywhere. Take your clothes off for me, whispered through her mind. Or... let me do it.
Swallowing convulsively, Buffy tried to regain control of her wayward thoughts, but it was difficult with Logan so close. Her eyes dropped to his lips. Remembering the feel of them, soft and warm against hers, she lightly traced his bottom lip with a solitary finger. Scenting her restlessness and growing need, Logan lowered his mouth and dropped a light kiss onto her outstretched palm. Relaxing, Buffy snuggled nearer to him, as if only he could keep out the cold that had settled over her skin since her return.
Logan risked the question that Dawn had raised earlier. "Was it very different where you were?"
"Everything is so sharp here... and violent. The soft moments like this one almost never come... in this place. And when they do, they're mostly laced with other things, like guilt, sadness, subtext..."
Surprised, Logan's mind worked furiously to understand. "So you were in a good place?"
A tear slid down Buffy's cheek as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. "Logan, I was in the best place imaginable. I was in paradise."
Logan lowered his eyes for a moment, then kissed her gently. "Like right now?"
Lightening her mood came so easily to him. Buffy laughed, "Are you trying to seduce me?"
"Why? Is it working?" he asked. Then he confessed with a wry grin, "No sweetheart, I was trying to be charming. Didn't pick up on that, eh?"
"Well, it has been a while since I've been charmed."
"Better prepare yourself. I plan to stick around for a little while... if you know of any hotels..."
Forgetting herself, Buffy cried, "Really?"
"Unless I can talk you into coming back to New York with me?" he angled.
Buffy's face fell. "I'd like to..."
Logan nodded his understanding. "But your sister and friends just got you back and Giles is on his way here from London."
"You could stay with us," Buffy suggested, but she knew when she said it that he wouldn't accept.
"Honey, I'd like to stay right here with you and never go anywhere else, but we have some hurdles to get over before we're ready to share a bed," replied Logan. Then with a wicked grin, he continued, "And I can't imagine sleeping on the downstairs sofa with Giles. He looks like a cover hog."
Buffy laughed, "Right..."
Logan started to stand and pulled her up with him. She protested softly, but Logan shook his head. "Your cousin and Ororo are downstairs. Your friends are having a meeting in the backyard that Dawn isn't supposed to attend. I need to get a hotel room, and you need to go be the Slayer."
Never had she regretted being chosen more. If only she could leave her duty behind and return with him to New York. Just seeing Logan and absorbing his warmth for a little while had healed and strengthened Buffy in ways that she couldn't have predicted, and her friends would never understand. Silently, she chastised herself for doubting his devotion. Regardless of what her friends and family had said, she should have called him to let him know she was alright. She should have believed in him.
Buffy reluctantly followed him downstairs. She hugged and chatted with Scott and Ororo for a few minutes before they had to go. Closing the door behind them, Buffy sighed and leaned against the wall.
"Got it bad, huh?" Dawn teased.
Buffy smiled, "Picked up on that, did ya?"
"Well, he IS a total honey," Dawn exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Think so?" Buffy asked.
Dawn laughed at her sister and threw an arm around her neck, "Are you kidding? All that hottie-ness... Even though he's totally old, with just a look, he could drop me at forty paces."
(end chapter)