Disclaimer: Don't own them, never will. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy still do. I'm just playing in a pretty big sandbox.
Author's Notes: This kicked off as a fluff morning-after fic based on Jamie Cullum's version of "What a Difference a Day Makes" - but a plot bunny I've been trying to ignore ended up working it's way in so expect more soon!
Spoilers: Post Chosen, picks up on Andrew's comments in Damage so I guess it's kinda spoilery for that as well.
Soft notes filtered through the apartment and she found herself singing along even though she didn't really know the words. Something about the open intensity of the lyrics struck a chord with her and she let herself drift in the waves of emotion. From the kitchen came the odd sounds and pleasant aroma of freshly brewing coffee. She'd never been much good at making it but it looked as though this time was different, things seemed to be going her way for once.
She looked around with a smile, taking in her surroundings. The apartment was one of those oddities – in the heart of the Medina it was a bastion of modernity. Pale wood flooring and gleaming white walls juxtaposed with the intricately carved shutters at the window. Sunlight was streaming through them casting oddly geometric shadows across the furniture that, even though it had been chosen primarily for appearance sake, was surprisingly comfortable.
Her bags were still sitting beside the door where she'd abandoned them the night before. Idly she thought about putting on some of her own clothes but the soft cotton shirt she had borrowed from him was so comfortable that she balked at the thought of taking it off… well, at the thought of *her* taking it off that is. If he were here then she might think differently.
Buffy smiled gently as she recalled the previous twenty four hours: the panic as soon as the call had come in saying he was missing; the frantic packing and the hunt for her passport whilst Dawn made the call to the airline trying to get her on a flight, any flight; the jitters at customs at Menara airport as she tried to convince the officials that the paperwork did in fact cover the antique axe she was transporting; the annoyance at the taxi driver who leered at her and hideously overcharged for the three mile trip; the frustration at the sheer lack of street signs and the filthy looks she was drawing from locals when she asked for directions; the relief at finally finding the Council building and the sheer and utter joy at seeing him as he opened the door to her.
He looked incredibly tired and his hair was damp, she barely registered the fact he wasn't wearing much more than a towel as she flung herself straight at him, dropping her bags somewhere on the way. Instinct took over and he managed to catch her without sending both of them flying. Up until this moment she hadn't realised how much she depended on him to always be there - to catch her whenever she fell. It had taken the thought of having lost him to make her realise it and a flare of anger accompanied that realisation. She pulled away from him and hit him on the arm.
"Don't ever do that again!" she registered that she was nearly yelling at him, something she'd done far too much of over the past seven years. The look of confusion and hurt on his face tugged at her conscience and the corners of his mouth turned down. She'd give anything to see him smile again but the anger coursing through her overrode that thought.
"Do what? And can I just say, ow!?" He rubbed at his arm where she saw with horror a red hand-shaped welt forming where she'd hit him moments before.
"Don't ever scare me like that again! Where were you? The Council have been trying to contact you for days now and you know you're supposed to check in with them every twelve hours!" He turned and walked past her to close the door.
"Yeah, well it's not that easy to keep in contact when you're stuck in a cave in the back of beyond fighting for your life." The weariness in his tone stopped her outburst, as did the sight of the half-healed cuts and burns across his back. They were fresh, perhaps only a day or two old, and some of them looked deep enough to hint at infection.
"Oh my God, what happened?" The anger had drained away and revealed the true emotion behind it – worry. She walked slowly up behind him and traced her fingers gently along the marks on his back. He stayed facing away from her and she could see the muscles in his back shiver slightly as her hand gently brushed across the skin.
She gently began to knead the muscles there, avoiding the cuts and bruises, trying to work out some of the tension she could feel in him. He gave a tiny sigh and rested his forehead against the door, apparently too tired to give one of his usual quips he murmured, "Feels good." She stopped and stepped back, causing him to turn to face her. Crossing her arms in front of her she tried to keep a stern expression on her face as she met his gaze. Her head swam a little as she felt herself being pulled in by that look, such intensity…
"What happened?" she repeated the question, quelling the churning in her stomach as it began to dawn on her what she was feeling. She did want to know the answer, she wanted to hear him tell her, she wanted to watch him as he spoke, to see those lips move, to feel their softness… She took a shaky breath as she realised where her mind was wandering to. Bad thoughts! Naughty Buffy thoughts! Focus!
She looked up at him again, he was watching her with a quizzical expression now and she wondered briefly why she'd never noticed the warmth there before. The corners of his mouth turned up a little as he watched her and her heart lifted as that simple adjustment made him look more like himself again. She found her voice again.
"Well?"
He shook his head, "No, questions later, massage now?" There was a playful tone in his voice and was she imagining it or was there a hitch there? Was this just the normal friendly flirting or was there more to it? Her breath caught in her throat again as she considered the possibility that maybe - just maybe - the feelings coursing through her were mutual. Throwing caution to the wind she stepped forward again, never breaking their gaze she reached up to cup his head in her hands.
Gently she brushed her lips against his, once, twice. She felt his shocked intake of breath and then suddenly he was kissing her with such intensity that it took her breath away. His arms came up to encircle her and she felt herself lifted off the ground as she gave into the embrace. She felt her own hands move independently of any instruction from her brain and roam down his back, over his arms, across his chest before again finding their way back to twine her fingers in his hair. She'd been right, his lips were soft and they were currently devouring her own with a passion she hadn't known for a long time. A moan of disappointment escaped her as they left her mouth but soon turned into one of ecstasy as they found the tiny spot just behind her ear that sent shivers right through her body. In an instant he was back, almost crushing her mouth beneath his and then suddenly he was gone. She opened her eyes slowly and saw him barely inches away from her with a look of absolute apology and horror on his face.
"Oh God! Buffy… I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. I haven't slept in days and I'm not thinking straight…" He stopped as she held a finger up to his kiss-bruised lips.
"Shush." She stepped forward again, smiling a little at the wonder in his expression, "I think you're forgetting who kissed who first." Her voice had taken on a husky tone and she stalled any further comments by kissing him slowly and asking with one raised eyebrow, "Which one's the bedroom then?"
The coffee was ready and as she poured herself a cup she realised that for the first time in years she was actually content. Sipping it slowly to savour the taste, she walked back into the living room and curled up in the armchair nearest the window. Sound drifted up from the market place below and she watched as the street vendors peddled their wares to unsuspecting tourists. Life was going on all around her and for the first time in years she felt part of it.
Just twenty-four hours ago she'd been just existing. Participating in one of those annoying conference calls that Giles seemed to insist on more and more and trying to get on with everyday life in a strange city. Rome was undoubtedly beautiful, and Dawn was happy there at school but Buffy hadn't had any connection to it. Then the call had come, he'd been out of contact for days and there was no one else close enough – could she go?
Now, a day later, and the business of just existing seemed to have been forgotten. She'd been reminded what it was to be alive again and all it had taken was an irrevocable change in the friendship she held most dear. Twenty-fours ago she wouldn't have done anything to change it, but right now she couldn't imagine living any other way.
The front door opened and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the apartment, she breathed it in and looked up to see him coming in laden with shopping. He smiled when he saw her watching him and she found herself smiling back like a soppy teenager. She didn't care though, he made her smile, she could live with that. Standing, she stretched out her muscles and felt his gaze on her once more. She took full advantage and turning her back to him, she raised her arms above her head and stretched as far as she could, feeling the soft material of the shirt ride up her thighs.
There was a thud from the kitchen as the shopping hit the floor and she felt his arms snake round her waist as he was behind her quicker than she would have thought possible. She tilted her head back to look up at him and smiled.
"So you never did tell me." He looked puzzled for a second. "What happened?"
"Well, let's see. I got out of the shower, opened the door, got hit with hurricane Buffy and do I really have to tell you what happened after that?" He grinned as she playfully hit him again. "Ow!"
"Oh stop complaining you big baby!" She pulled away from him, ignoring the sudden sense of loss she felt at no longer being in his arms. "You know what I meant, what happened in that cave?"
His expression glazed over and she saw remembered pain on his face. He turned away and sat down in the chair she'd recently vacated, obviously unsure of how to begin.
"Hey." He looked up at the sound of her voice. "It's me. You can tell me anything Xander, you know that."
He nodded, "Well, it's like this…."
Author's Notes: This kicked off as a fluff morning-after fic based on Jamie Cullum's version of "What a Difference a Day Makes" - but a plot bunny I've been trying to ignore ended up working it's way in so expect more soon!
Spoilers: Post Chosen, picks up on Andrew's comments in Damage so I guess it's kinda spoilery for that as well.
Soft notes filtered through the apartment and she found herself singing along even though she didn't really know the words. Something about the open intensity of the lyrics struck a chord with her and she let herself drift in the waves of emotion. From the kitchen came the odd sounds and pleasant aroma of freshly brewing coffee. She'd never been much good at making it but it looked as though this time was different, things seemed to be going her way for once.
She looked around with a smile, taking in her surroundings. The apartment was one of those oddities – in the heart of the Medina it was a bastion of modernity. Pale wood flooring and gleaming white walls juxtaposed with the intricately carved shutters at the window. Sunlight was streaming through them casting oddly geometric shadows across the furniture that, even though it had been chosen primarily for appearance sake, was surprisingly comfortable.
Her bags were still sitting beside the door where she'd abandoned them the night before. Idly she thought about putting on some of her own clothes but the soft cotton shirt she had borrowed from him was so comfortable that she balked at the thought of taking it off… well, at the thought of *her* taking it off that is. If he were here then she might think differently.
Buffy smiled gently as she recalled the previous twenty four hours: the panic as soon as the call had come in saying he was missing; the frantic packing and the hunt for her passport whilst Dawn made the call to the airline trying to get her on a flight, any flight; the jitters at customs at Menara airport as she tried to convince the officials that the paperwork did in fact cover the antique axe she was transporting; the annoyance at the taxi driver who leered at her and hideously overcharged for the three mile trip; the frustration at the sheer lack of street signs and the filthy looks she was drawing from locals when she asked for directions; the relief at finally finding the Council building and the sheer and utter joy at seeing him as he opened the door to her.
He looked incredibly tired and his hair was damp, she barely registered the fact he wasn't wearing much more than a towel as she flung herself straight at him, dropping her bags somewhere on the way. Instinct took over and he managed to catch her without sending both of them flying. Up until this moment she hadn't realised how much she depended on him to always be there - to catch her whenever she fell. It had taken the thought of having lost him to make her realise it and a flare of anger accompanied that realisation. She pulled away from him and hit him on the arm.
"Don't ever do that again!" she registered that she was nearly yelling at him, something she'd done far too much of over the past seven years. The look of confusion and hurt on his face tugged at her conscience and the corners of his mouth turned down. She'd give anything to see him smile again but the anger coursing through her overrode that thought.
"Do what? And can I just say, ow!?" He rubbed at his arm where she saw with horror a red hand-shaped welt forming where she'd hit him moments before.
"Don't ever scare me like that again! Where were you? The Council have been trying to contact you for days now and you know you're supposed to check in with them every twelve hours!" He turned and walked past her to close the door.
"Yeah, well it's not that easy to keep in contact when you're stuck in a cave in the back of beyond fighting for your life." The weariness in his tone stopped her outburst, as did the sight of the half-healed cuts and burns across his back. They were fresh, perhaps only a day or two old, and some of them looked deep enough to hint at infection.
"Oh my God, what happened?" The anger had drained away and revealed the true emotion behind it – worry. She walked slowly up behind him and traced her fingers gently along the marks on his back. He stayed facing away from her and she could see the muscles in his back shiver slightly as her hand gently brushed across the skin.
She gently began to knead the muscles there, avoiding the cuts and bruises, trying to work out some of the tension she could feel in him. He gave a tiny sigh and rested his forehead against the door, apparently too tired to give one of his usual quips he murmured, "Feels good." She stopped and stepped back, causing him to turn to face her. Crossing her arms in front of her she tried to keep a stern expression on her face as she met his gaze. Her head swam a little as she felt herself being pulled in by that look, such intensity…
"What happened?" she repeated the question, quelling the churning in her stomach as it began to dawn on her what she was feeling. She did want to know the answer, she wanted to hear him tell her, she wanted to watch him as he spoke, to see those lips move, to feel their softness… She took a shaky breath as she realised where her mind was wandering to. Bad thoughts! Naughty Buffy thoughts! Focus!
She looked up at him again, he was watching her with a quizzical expression now and she wondered briefly why she'd never noticed the warmth there before. The corners of his mouth turned up a little as he watched her and her heart lifted as that simple adjustment made him look more like himself again. She found her voice again.
"Well?"
He shook his head, "No, questions later, massage now?" There was a playful tone in his voice and was she imagining it or was there a hitch there? Was this just the normal friendly flirting or was there more to it? Her breath caught in her throat again as she considered the possibility that maybe - just maybe - the feelings coursing through her were mutual. Throwing caution to the wind she stepped forward again, never breaking their gaze she reached up to cup his head in her hands.
Gently she brushed her lips against his, once, twice. She felt his shocked intake of breath and then suddenly he was kissing her with such intensity that it took her breath away. His arms came up to encircle her and she felt herself lifted off the ground as she gave into the embrace. She felt her own hands move independently of any instruction from her brain and roam down his back, over his arms, across his chest before again finding their way back to twine her fingers in his hair. She'd been right, his lips were soft and they were currently devouring her own with a passion she hadn't known for a long time. A moan of disappointment escaped her as they left her mouth but soon turned into one of ecstasy as they found the tiny spot just behind her ear that sent shivers right through her body. In an instant he was back, almost crushing her mouth beneath his and then suddenly he was gone. She opened her eyes slowly and saw him barely inches away from her with a look of absolute apology and horror on his face.
"Oh God! Buffy… I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. I haven't slept in days and I'm not thinking straight…" He stopped as she held a finger up to his kiss-bruised lips.
"Shush." She stepped forward again, smiling a little at the wonder in his expression, "I think you're forgetting who kissed who first." Her voice had taken on a husky tone and she stalled any further comments by kissing him slowly and asking with one raised eyebrow, "Which one's the bedroom then?"
The coffee was ready and as she poured herself a cup she realised that for the first time in years she was actually content. Sipping it slowly to savour the taste, she walked back into the living room and curled up in the armchair nearest the window. Sound drifted up from the market place below and she watched as the street vendors peddled their wares to unsuspecting tourists. Life was going on all around her and for the first time in years she felt part of it.
Just twenty-four hours ago she'd been just existing. Participating in one of those annoying conference calls that Giles seemed to insist on more and more and trying to get on with everyday life in a strange city. Rome was undoubtedly beautiful, and Dawn was happy there at school but Buffy hadn't had any connection to it. Then the call had come, he'd been out of contact for days and there was no one else close enough – could she go?
Now, a day later, and the business of just existing seemed to have been forgotten. She'd been reminded what it was to be alive again and all it had taken was an irrevocable change in the friendship she held most dear. Twenty-fours ago she wouldn't have done anything to change it, but right now she couldn't imagine living any other way.
The front door opened and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the apartment, she breathed it in and looked up to see him coming in laden with shopping. He smiled when he saw her watching him and she found herself smiling back like a soppy teenager. She didn't care though, he made her smile, she could live with that. Standing, she stretched out her muscles and felt his gaze on her once more. She took full advantage and turning her back to him, she raised her arms above her head and stretched as far as she could, feeling the soft material of the shirt ride up her thighs.
There was a thud from the kitchen as the shopping hit the floor and she felt his arms snake round her waist as he was behind her quicker than she would have thought possible. She tilted her head back to look up at him and smiled.
"So you never did tell me." He looked puzzled for a second. "What happened?"
"Well, let's see. I got out of the shower, opened the door, got hit with hurricane Buffy and do I really have to tell you what happened after that?" He grinned as she playfully hit him again. "Ow!"
"Oh stop complaining you big baby!" She pulled away from him, ignoring the sudden sense of loss she felt at no longer being in his arms. "You know what I meant, what happened in that cave?"
His expression glazed over and she saw remembered pain on his face. He turned away and sat down in the chair she'd recently vacated, obviously unsure of how to begin.
"Hey." He looked up at the sound of her voice. "It's me. You can tell me anything Xander, you know that."
He nodded, "Well, it's like this…."
to be continued...