Come Sail Away
Come the month of September?
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novellas, where Buffy reevaluates her relationships.
Rating:
Disclaimer:
belong to the brilliant artists who wrote them, and all the characters belong
to The Genius, Joss Whedon.
~*~*~*~*~
What are we
brightly shinin’
The night ain’t so young
Smoke is goin’ in and out of your lungs
Puttin’ you at ease swayin’
in the breeze
In the warm light of the flickerin’ fire, babe
Can’t you feel us gettin’ higher
And what are we gonna do come the month of September?
Looks like I’m loosin’ you
Loosin’ you and loosin’ me
and
Lookin’ back now
We had it pretty good
& El Torpedo
sits beside her left knee on a warm rock. People are talking.
and “Swedish girls” and I can content myself into knowing I’m
not missing out on much.
around it shine even more brightly.
booming voice and Andy’s pitiful hyena laugh, the night is full of nature’s
little noises. Crickets buzzing, the distant rapids, the flapping of bats’
wings overhead, the errant mosquito zipping by your ear… It’s
a wonderful night.
An
arm falls gracefully over my shoulder casually, and I lean back into the body
moves back to where it originally was, and comes back with a cigarette clasped
in its hand. Camel. The smoke etches out from the tip,
sensually dancing out into the darkened night. It’s
there, stuck between her index and middle finger, resting slightly on the base
of her thumb. I know it’s meant to be mine, ‘cause she
just twirls it around uselessly. So I snatch it out
and prop it into my pursed lips.
“Thanks.”
Her voice is gentle enough and it sounds husky. Just from that one word, I know
she’s content.
rack my brain for more synonyms, I’m not the brains of the family – Dawn is –,
but point is, she’s happy just being here, with me sitting between her legs.
The
fire is slowly dying out and Giles gets up to throw on another log, making the
flames etch higher in the sky along with a few dancing sparks.
I
lean my head back against her stomach, and expel a thread of Camel smoke
upwards, while my left hand draws lazy patterns on her propped up knee.
Around
us, the new and improved Scoobies are basking in a
well-deserved relaxing night.
Will
is sitting on an upturned log, hands clasped in front of her, patiently waiting
for her roasted marshmallow that Andy promised her. She’s
letting out an occasional laugh, so I guess she’s also paying attention to the
ongoing conversation. She looks at ease, and I smirk when I catch her sneaking
a glance over to Xander’s left, where Kennedy and
Dawn are battling over who found the best marshmallow stick. Kids.
Andrew
has sprawled onto his stomach; lying on the same wool blanket Faith and I are
on. He's carefully roasting a marshmallow, turning the
stick left once, maybe twice, making sure the little white blob is turning into
a golden swollen puff evenly. He's probably mastered
this during his boy scout days. He's also paying
attention to the ongoing group discussion, even adding a word here and there,
careful not to make any Red Dwarf or Superman references. As much as I hate to
admit it, Andy's a nice addition to the group.
Meanwhile,
Xander is in a fighting stance, and from the looks of
it, demonstrating a newly acquired technique he gypped off his mentor down in
Africa
looking pretty good. His skin has a deep tan, and his arms have gotten bigger
while his waistline has gotten smaller. His hair is shorter and it fits him
nicely. He's looking every bit like the mean demon
bounty hunter that he is. He then turns around, his eyes land to our side of
the fire, and he gives us his trademark goofy grin before returning to his
story.
Dawn
and Kennedy are sitting, whittling away at their sticks, listening to every
word Xander is saying. The fire light is dancing
along their features, making them look a little older than their 18 years.
Giles
is standing beside them, hands in his coat pockets, staring into the fire, with
a smile sketched on his face. He looks up from time to time, assuring
gaze always returns to the orange bluish glow in the center of our circle.
realize I miss him. I dunno if I miss the thought of
having him around all the time, or if I miss the way
he would tilt his head a bit to the side, or just his presence in general.
Faith leans her head on my shoulder and lets it fall against my own in a comforting
gesture. She smells like Bvlgari and Camels.
"Hey. You okay?" She
whispers in that same husky voice of hers that can melt me in mere seconds.
a little more broken than I had intended it to, and she quickly
"Thinking of him again?" I
swear this girl knows me better than I know myself.
I
hear her sigh in my ear and I can feel her hand feeling its way up under my right
thigh. She then stops as quickly as she started and gets up to her feet in
ease. I grab her outstretched hand and she pulls me up so that
"You guys need more juice?"
She asks, loud enough for them to stop talking and listen.
"I could go for another."
Dawn
looks at me with pleading eyes, begging me to let her have another beer. I nod
her way and she gives me this ecstatic look.
too!"
same thing.
he doesn't say anything.
from the flames. "Oh. Yes. That'd be nice. Thank
you. Uh, need any help?"
Faith
gives him a huge grin.
good."
"I'll have another as well."
Andy says, lifting his mug of almost finished hot chocolate.
Andy
finishes his drink and gives me his empty mug and Faith and I make our way to
the cottage. Her hand has slipped into one of the back pockets of my jeans, and
she uses it to guide me to the door in the darkness.
“How long does it take to boil
water?” She asks casually, and I’ve totally figured
her out.
“Depends on how much you boil.” I
explain slowly.
“Is that right?” She says, grinning.
Seconds
after we’ve entered through the door, she rushes to
the sink and fills the kettle for Andy’s hot chocolate.
enough?”
I
nod without looking and slump on the couch. I hear her fishing out some beer
out of the fridge and put them on the counter by the door. Then within a split
second, she’s got me straddled firmly with her legs.
manage to say.
She
looks back towards to the kettle and it looks like she’s
doing simple math in her head.
“Two minutes?”
“Fuck.”
We
don’t lose any time. Her belt comes unbuckled in my
fingers as she attacks my mouth with her own. Soon after, my belt also comes
undone and our fingers are suddenly exploring known territory under our jeans.
Our mouths part ways, allowing us to take in a few ragged breaths.
time to go at it for hours.
The
kettle starts to whistle. Quickest two minutes of my life.
“Shit.”
Her
hand is in the front of my jeans, mine in hers, and we slowly pull out, a
little disappointed. Bah, we’ll take care of that
tonight. We gotta. We
fast and her flight is soon after.
“How many tablespoons of this shit
does it take?” She says after she’s washed her hands.
unknowingly.
“Good enough for me.”
I
smile as I run my hands under the cold tap water. And
just as I’m drying them, I can feel her gaze on my body.
“What?” I say.
standing, and kiss her softly for a good minute.
She
grins, showing me her dimples, and looks me up and down suggestively.
She
then grabs a bucket, puts the bottles of beer inside, and hands me the cup of
hot chocolate. I open the door, and we let ourselves out, slowly making our way
back to the others.
She
walks in front of me, down the staircase, and I’m
caught wondering exactly what I’m going to do once September comes. Once