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Chapter 9 The Land of Light November 25 4:30AM He had never ached so much in his entire life. It had been a week since the start of Daniel’s training with Bra’tac, Ry’ac, Ul’rac, and Jaal’c, but it seemed like decades. From 10 PM to 4 AM, they knocked the hell out of him. They kicked him, punched him, tossed him over their shoulders, and then they made him run for miles – sometimes as many as ten, if Bra’tac and the boys were feeling particularly cruel. He really was trying to be a good sport; he just wished they would let him run before they kicked his ass. Didn’t they know that was infinitely preferable to running with fresh cuts and bruises? However, he knew his torturers well enough to keep his mouth shut. If he mentioned his preference, Bra’tac and the young men would tease him mercilessly and inform him of Buffy’s most recent feats of warrior prowess, which really set his teeth on edge. Much as he needed her, sometimes he really wished she wasn’t quite so perfect. Sighing, Daniel forced himself to take the next step up the stairs. At least for tonight it was over and he was only minutes from his bed. Suddenly, he stumbled. Enunciating the syllables, he swore in Latin, “Futuo!” With a taut grimace, he picked himself up, grasped the banister with both hands, and dragged his right foot to the next step, pulling the left one painstakingly up to meet it. Slowly and with great effort, he edged his way toward the second story landing. The only things on his mind were bed and Buffy. Not that he was in any shape to take Buffy to his bed. He clearly wasn’t. But he did miss her. She had been more than a little remote since he stopped sleeping beside her and he was concerned that they were drifting apart. As a result of his late night forays into what he fondly termed “the beating fields”, he rarely had time for her. In half an hour, if he didn’t die on the way to his room, he would be sound asleep. While he slept a good part of the day away, she would be training. After she finished and spent an inordinate amount of time in the bath house, she might just as easily decide to have dinner and spend the evening with Bra’tac, Ry’ac, Ul’rac, and Jaal’c as with him. Daniel abhorred the idea that maybe she was aware of his deception and was angry with him. But rather than tell her the truth, he had told her that he was busy with some excavation wrap up. Instead of telling her he loved her desperately and wanted to be worthy… Daniel shook his head, pushing down the emotion tightening the back his throat. As he reached the top of the stairs, he wiped a hand over his face and made his way to his door. He ventured a glance toward her door. Closed firmly against him, it seemed a symbol of their entire relationship. Daniel sighed. I’m just tired, he reasoned, and separation from her reminds me that I’m living an illusion. Someday all of this would be gone. She would be gone. And he missed her all the more for it. Palming the bullhead-shaped bronze door handle, he ignored the complaining muscles of his arm and shoulder and pushed the heavy, dark wooden panel out of the way. Suddenly a wave of warmth rushed over him, nearly tripping him as he stepped forward into the room. Wrapped securely in his blankets, Buffy slept in a pool of waning moonlight. Daniel smiled softly. She had forgotten or neglected to close the window flap. Even on this world light years away from home, Sin, the Sumerian moon god, was in love with her. Primitive satisfaction rolled through him at the sight of her. After all, if he were truly honest with himself, from their first meeting, she was the woman he had wanted in his bed. Somehow being in her bed was less significant, less visceral. While he knew that he hadn’t provided the roof over her head or even the blanket that protected her from the cold, she had come to him for comfort. If nothing else, he could beat her monsters back into the night. Crossing the room, he sat down next to her on the bed. “Bad dream, Buffy?” he inquired softly. “Yeah… and missed you,” she murmured, her eyelashes fluttering but never quite opening. Suddenly, her left arm slipped out and wrapped around Daniel’s waist, pulling him closer to her. He smothered a gasp as the bruises screamed at him. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He needed to get her out of here or she would soon notice his discomfort and ask for the one piece of truth he was too ashamed to tell – three pre-teen boys, albeit extra-strong pre-teen boys, kicked the crap out of him tonight. Daniel twisted back to gaze down at her and brushed his fingertips across her face, pushing her hair back from her eyes. “Come to bed, Daniel.” “I don’t… I think…” he started, trying to get the words out. Then, taking a deep breath, he argued very carefully, emphasizing every word, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Buffy.” Buffy cracked one eye open. “Lie down or else,” she growled. Daniel rolled his eyes and said nothing. Bit by bit, he attempted to scoot away from her. He was in no shape to argue. All he wanted to do was get some sleep. However, this was not even a remote possibility, with the most beautiful woman on Earth stretched out in his bed. Unexpectedly, in one smooth continuous movement, Buffy sat up, grabbed him by the arm, pulled him down flat on his back, and straddled his lower stomach. “Ah, damn it! Buffy!” he howled, attempting to push her off. Buffy slid down a little, then took the hem of his tshirt and lifted it up to his chin. “Ohhh… honey… Why did you let them do this to you?” Buffy exclaimed as she gently ran the fingertips of her free hand over his black and purple abdomen. Under her hand, his muscles convulsed. Not only was he no match for the boys, but he couldn’t keep his body from reacting to her slightest touch. “It’s fine. It’s nothing,” he replied abashedly, as he pulled his shirt down and began to rise up on both elbows. But she was too far under the sway of her anger to be put off. “I’ll kill them!” she announced grimly, lifting herself carefully from him. She was preternaturally graceful, unfurling herself skyward like sweet jasmine opening its petals to the moon, until she was standing over him on the bed with one foot on either side of his hips – a golden Amazon, a warrior with a mission. God help him, just watching her made him so damn hard. Her face a mask of determination, she turned toward the door. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to look at the transitory view of her black boy short panties underneath her oversized olive tshirt, as she leapt to the floor. “I… No. Don’t… How did you know?” he asked curiously, rolling over, catching at her hands, attempting to bring her back. Defending the defenseless, that’s my girl, Daniel thought morosely. “What? That you’re a terrible liar? Or that you’re working hard to be a better asset to your team?” she asked, deciding at the last minute to let him keep his lie, as she made her way to the door. “It wasn’t hard to find out… I am extremely resourceful.” “Um… Buffy… Where are you going? It’s the middle of the night.” Buffy smiled sweetly, too sweetly. Through clenched teeth, she reminded him, “I told you already, Daniel. I’m going to kill them.” Daniel was too tired to debate. He wanted to. He really did. He wanted to seduce her with his words, to unleash an oratorical symphony the likes of which she had never heard before. He wanted to prove once and for all that the pen was mightier than the fist that held it. But she was at least halfway down the hall by now and evidently not in any mood to be reasonable. And yet, for thirty seconds more he lingered in the warmth she left in his bed. Her scent was impressed on his pillow and he rolled over into it. Then regretfully Daniel pushed himself from the bed. “Buffy! Wait!” he called as softly as he could. She obliged him a few yards from the stairs, her quick strides stuttering to a standstill. Stubbornly, she turned partially toward him, crossed her arms on her chest and leaned back against the ochre clay wall. He could see that he was right, that she would not be easily dissuaded, and his mind sifted swiftly through possible lies, excuses, and bribes to get her to stay. Nothing sounded good to him. So instead, he opened his mouth and the truth dropped out. “Don’t go. I want you to stay here with me.” “But Daniel…” “No.” “But they…” she began again, easing closer. “No.” Wrapping her arms gingerly around his neck, she leaned forward and in the scant inches between their lips, she breathed, “Yes.” Previous Chapter Fire and Water...Menu
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