Heat

They were soon on the road, packed into the back of Oz's van. Willow was up front, Oz was driving. Wesley and Rupert took up one side of the back while Xander and Buffy took up the other. Xander seemed oddly sullen, Buffy just grim and serious. Willow chattered almost endlessly and Wesley could tell she was nervous. He'd heard from Rupert that she'd done such concealing spells before, so he worried that his cautions had set her on edge.

He wanted to reach out and touch Rupert. He'd never admit it out loud, but fear was clenching his stomach. He'd disgraced himself in the incident with Balthazar and he knew the others thought him a coward. In truth, he wasn't sure he didn't agree with them. Still, he meant to do this right, meant to . . . God, he wanted to touch Rupert, just his hand, just something to reassure himself.

Stop being a fool, the voice in his mind snapped and Wesley felt his spine straighten by reflex.

The van pulled to a stop and Wesley took a deep breath, forcing himself to follow the others out the back doors. Oz and Willow both stood waiting and Wesley pointed to the entrance to the first of the two complexes.

"The other one is located a bit further down the beach, but should be visible once we get to the entrance of this one." He hated the way his voice sounded, though the others didn't seem to notice the slight tremble. Or, if they did, they kept it to themselves. Something for which he was immensely grateful.

Buffy tossed him a crossbow. Wesley almost fumbled it and had to close his eyes against his own embarrassment. Then, just for a moment, he felt Rupert press against him from behind, reaching for the stakes. The contact would have seemed completely incidental to anyone watching. Still, it was a comfort to Wesley, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this. He wondered if Rupert had done it deliberately, even let his mind wander down that path a little as the others got ready. It was a distraction and at the moment that was a very good thing indeed.

He pushed the thoughts aside, however, as Buffy nodded that everyone was ready. There was a remarkable lack of discussion, though the tension was palpable. Everyone formed into the position Wesley had told them about, all of them backing Buffy as she led the way into the cave.

It was darker than Wesley had expected. Which was rather stupid of him, now that he thought about it. Xander had apparently anticipated the problem as he lifted a large torch and handed it forward to Buffy.

"Right, so . . ." Buffy stepped into the cave and Wesley and the others followed. Another torch clicked on behind him and he looked back to find Oz holding it. "Here knifey, knifey," Buffy said softly, her voice edged with tension.

Wesley thought to say something about now not being the time for levity, but snapped his mouth shut against the reflex. It was cooler inside the cave, damp and clinging, the air scented with salt and ocean. It was almost homey, Wesley thought, and smiled. In fact, a very inappropriate giggle nearly slipped through his lips. He was almost certain Rupert was the only one who'd heard the stifled snort. The man turned to raise an eyebrow at him. Wesley shrugged and gave Rupert a sheepish smile.

Forcing himself to turn his mind back to the business at hand, Wesley kept his crossbow ready, eyes darting from one wall of the cavern to another. Of course, as time passed--more than an hour--the effort of keeping his guard up was becoming exhausting.

The last few days had been . . . extraordinary, whether good or bad, in more ways than he could count. He was still rather battered. In fact, he was aching nearly from head to toe. It didn’t help that he had to crouch down to get through some of the cave, bits where it wasn't tall enough for him to stand upright. His head was beginning to hurt from trying to be vigilant in near to no light.

"Whoa," Buffy said softly and Wesley stopped at once, his body stiffening as he tried to spot whatever had made her call a halt. "Um . . . the cave opens up a lot up here, a big ol' cavern."

Over Buffy's head, Wesley could faintly see the light of Buffy's torch bouncing around on the wall to the left. She panned it slowly across the cavern and it landed on a small, haphazard cairn. The thing looked old. The stone that served as its head was greenish, owing, Wesley thought, to the damp, salt air, but the writing upon it was still clear. There was little enough wind here and, it being safe from the water, there didn't seem to be any erosion.

"Okay," Buffy said after a moment, leading the way into the cavern. "Is this what we were looking for?"

Rupert and he looked at each other, both shrugging.

"Well, we're looking for the knife, but this could be a good starting point." Wesley fiddled with his cuffs. "Rupert and I should see what we can make of that writing. If this demon was known to frequent these caves . . ." Wesley shrugged, glancing to the other man.

Rupert nodded, though there was a thoughtful look on his face.

"Well, then could you guys get started?" Xander asked. "I'd like to get home some time before I have to go to school tomorrow."

Wesley nodded, following Rupert over to the stone and bending to peer at the inscriptions upon it. It was very similar to the book and Wesley nodded at the rambling sentences and horrible grammar that were--after a day of wading through them--all too familiar.