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In Dreams I Walk With You	By : QueenB Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Giles Views: 81254 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Buffy was running almost mindlessly. There was only one person who could help her, who could give her what she longed for. She was a Slayer on a mission and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way. Her feet pounded faster and faster down the lonely quiet Sunnydale streets.
Her arousal was spiraling higher as she approached her goal and, unknown to her, the scent she was emitting was getting stronger as well. It wafted into open windows as she passed by the oblivious Sunnydale homes. All along her trail, men and women were waking up and turning to their various spouses, girlfriends, boyfriends and bedmates and attacking them with blind animal passion.
She knew the address; she had memorized it just this afternoon after talking to Giles. Her gaze flicked up at the street signs as she passed them. The closer she got to her goal, the sharper her desire became. She flung open the doors to the Best Western with enough force to shiver the glass in its panes.
She ran to the desk. Primitive instinct howled at her not to waste time, simply to charge up the stairs to Giles’ room. But what was left of her humanity told her she had to learn the direction; otherwise she might waste valuable time searching in the wrong place.
“Which way to room 911? I’m looking for Rupert Giles.”
The boy behind the counter looked up, blinking sleepily. “Huh? What?” The hour was very late and he wasn’t at his most alert but he was low rung on the hotel totem pole and this was the best time slot he could get.
He straightened up unconsciously as he got a good look at the young woman leaning over the desk. Wow, she’s a nice little piece. Bit skinnier than I like ‘em and small tits but hey I can work with that… Resting his elbows on the desk, he grinned in what he thought was a attractive manner and purred, “Rupert Giles? I guess I can help you there, honey. Is he expecting you?”
Buffy blinked as she tried to respond to the question. Every nerve in her body was quivering and she had to fight the urge to jump the young brat behind the counter and beat the crap out of him--or molest him. She could go either way at the moment. “Yeah, yeah, he is. I need to see him. Which way to his room?”
The boy pretended to think about it while eyeing her more carefully. She was breathing hard as if she’d run a long way. It was causing her breasts to move in a very interesting manner under her revealing blouse. He didn’t realize it but he was reacting like everybody else near her to the pheromones she was emitting and he was determined to keep her there.
He opened the book and shook his head in mock disappointment. “I’m afraid Mr. Giles is gone out for the evening. I saw him leave here with a lady friend of his: tall, brunette, very pretty. I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.” He closed the book and leaned forward again. “Anything I can help you with, baby?”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed and she looked the guy up and down. “When exactly did he leave?”
The guy pulled at his lip and tried to elaborate on his lie. “I dunno, maybe about three or four o’clock.”
She shook her head. “That can’t be. I called him about that time and he made an appointment to meet me this afternoon.”
The guy spread his hands. “Hey, maybe he changed his mind. Some guys aren’t all that faithful or reliable, you know. But if you’re feeling lonely…”
Buffy had had enough. She reached over the counter and wrapped her hand around the kid’s throat and yanked him forward. She gradually increased the pressure as she stared him coldly in the eyes. “Listen, you jackass. You will tell me where Rupert Giles’s hotel room is. If I find him there, I may forgive this pathetic attempt to lie to me. If he isn’t and there is some other woman involved, you better hope I don’t cause a scene here in the lobby. Otherwise you just might get caught in the crossfire.
“But if you keep jerking me around like this, I’m going to beat you to within an inch of your life. Then I’m going over that inch. Got it?”
The lad’s eyes were bulging from the pressure as he clawed futilely at his throat. His legs were kicking while his toes tried to find purchase on the floor. He was starting to see stars from the oxygen deprivation when she released him and he collapsed in a heap, gulping for air. She looked down at him with a crazed gleam in her eye and a twisted smile on her face.
“Now where’s that hotel room, baby?”
__________
The pounding on the door at last woke him out of his slumber. Bloody hell, who could that be? Giles blinked several times and picked up his glasses from the nightstand counter. He looked at the digital face of the clock and gaped in disbelief. 3:37 a.m.? Who would have the temerity to disturb him at this hour?
He briefly toyed with the notion that some demon was attempting an attack. But then, it would hardly bother to knock, would it?
“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your horses, will you!” rub rubbed his hands over his eyes and stretched. The pounding increased in loudness and frequency. “I said I was coming!” He looked through the hotel door peephole and his eyes widened.
It was Buffy. Her features were distorted in the fisheye lens of the glass but it was definitely she. He yanked open the door hurriedly. “Buffy, what on ear--” Anything else he might have said was lost as a blonde whirlwind hurled itself through the open doorway and tackled him.
He grunted as he landed on his back. Buffy was astride him, kissing him frantically all over his face while tugging at his clothes. “GilesGilesGiles god you have to help me touch me wow you smell so good. I need you…” She was rubbing herself in a distracting and highly arousing manner against his body as her legs twined around his.
This is a dream, that’s what this is. Another one of those sex dreams. That must be it. But this didn’t fit any known scenario of the other night visions and felt all too disturbingly real. He pressed against her shoulders and tried to sit up while he struggled to come to grips with the situation.
“Buffy, what’s happened; what are you doing here?”
She stopped twisting against him momentarily to give him a sexy pout. “I should think it’s kinda obvious what I’m doing here. Now less talking, more screwing.” She strained forward to kiss him again while he tried to avoid her advances.
“Buffy, stop! There’s something very wrong here!” He stood up with difficulty, dragging her clinging body all the way, and then sniffed. There was a curious odor in the air, rather sweetish-sour, like some barbecued ribs he’d had at a picnic once. It was coming from her and wasn’t her usual distinctive vanilla aroma. “What’s that smell?”
Buffy had stood up as well and pressed her body against his once more. She wound her arms tightly around his chest in spite of his attempts to dislodge her. She was attacking him with every ounce of her slayer strength and he could feel his ribs beginning to creak under the pressure of her arms.
“Buffy, please! You’re hurting me!” The pain in her Watcher’s voice penetrated the sex-induced haze in her brain and she eased up on her grasp. She didn’t want to hurt him, she never wanted to hurt him, but the feeling in her body was driving her crazy. She mewled in pent-up longing and settled for rubbing her breasts against him.
“Giles, I’m hurting, too…and only you can help.” Since force obviously wasn’t working to set the mood, Buffy decided to switch gears. She licked up the side of his neck and purred, “I’ve been dreaming about you, Rupert. Hot, sticky, wet dreams. I’m like a candy with a moist creamy center…and something tells me you’ve got a taste for chocolate. I want you to touch me, lick me, devour me.”
She grabbed one of his hands and brought it flush against her breast. She rubbed it slowly over the pointed nub. “I know you want me, Rupert. I’ve seen you in my dreams. Take what you want, I can give it and more. Just fuck me now.”
The tall Englishman with her was rapidly losing his bearings under the onslaught to his senses. She was here and she wanted him, desired him, and that damnable scent was nibbling away at the edges of his self-control. But this wasn’t right and he knew it. He had to figure out what was wrong but it was going to prove impossible if he didn’t get her away from him. He gritted his teeth and pushed her away as firmly as he could, belatedly closing the open door as well.
“Buffy, Buffy, listen to me. Obviously something has occurred, something to cause you to behave in this uncontrollable fashion. If you were in your right senses, you’d never--”
“But I am in my right senses. I spent so much time playing the good little Slayer for her Watcher and ignoring the attractive man right under my nose. I know you’re the one I want and I’m going to have you, dammit.” The last word was spoken in a growly undertone and she caught his top and ripped it open, buttons flying in every direction.
She was kissing him with abandon now, her tongue flicking itself across his lips and then between his parted teeth. Her hands were stroking down his chest and getting closer to the waistband of his trousers. Giles tried to pry her hands away but she was simply too strong.
She’d overpower him in moments if he made this a contest of physical strength. Like Buffy, Giles decided to alter his tactics. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her closer. Between delicate kisses along her cheekbones and lips, he whispered, “Buffy, tell me.”
“Mmmmm, tell you what?”
“Tell me what brought this on. What led you here tonight?”
She growled in impatience again. “Who cares? I’m here now. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
He pulled away from her slightly, ignoring her whine as she lost his delicious lips. “Not quite. I want you to talk to me. You have such a sexy voice.”
Her eyes widened slightly and a wicked smile twitched across her lips. “You want me to talk dirty? I can do that.”
He chuckled deep in his throat, still maintaining the air of the interested lover. “Maybe later. Right now I just want to hear you tell me what made you change your mind about me…how I went from being old and gross to being your dream man.”
She began rubbing her lower body against his as she spoke. Her voice became distant as if what she was saying wasn’t as important as what she was doing. “Well, you know I’ve been dreaming about you…”
“Yes?” That’s it, Giles, keep her talking while you carry out your plan. You do have a plan, right?
Well, the seeds of one were forming in his mind. He just had to make sure she still thought they were going to have sex. Any intimation that his ultimate goal was different and she might very well try raping him.
Not that I’d mind.
Oh do shut up and focus.
Buffy was pulling up her top in a languorous fashion, almost like a striptease, and he tugged it down again before he saw anything to banish his resolve. Well, perhaps inquiring about his altered sexual status in her mind wasn’t the best plan of attack. He hastily asked a different question. “What happened to you tonight?”
“Tonight? I was patrolling. I was really looking forward to seeing you like we planned. Then I met this demon. It was soft, squishy and kept spewing out this sticky yellowish fluid that smelled like sweet-and-sour sauce.”
Giles listened intently, immediately in Watcher mode. “I don’t recognize it from the description. Have you ever seen a demon like that before?”
She stopped and peered at him sharply while he rearranged his features in what he hoped was a fair imitation of the randy boyfriend. “Always the Watcher, huh? Well, don’t bother researching this one, Watcher mine. Spike gave me all the answers.”
His eyes narrowed. Spike? Spike had been there? He heard a trace of a growl in his own voice as he asked, “And what was Spike doing there?”
She smirked and started brushing her fingers down his chest. “Are you jealous?”
He shrugged in an effort to appear nonchalant. He kept his voice low and calm even as she slid down his body, kissing his chest. “Perhaps. What about the demon then? What did Spike have to say about it?”
She swirled her delectable tits around the front of his pajama bottoms and he groaned as her altered scent rose up to tickle his nostrils again. He was instantly erect and knew the evidence of it wouldn’t escape her. He dragged her up and staggered as she began pushing him towards the couch.
“Giles, I don’t want to talk anymore! I want to make love to you. Please! You have to hurry!” Her voice was carrying an edge of desperation and he realized there was more than mere lust at work. His plan was fully formed in his mind and he halted.
“I want you, Buffy, I do. But not like this, hurried on the couch like some anonymous hotel encounter. Come to the bedroom.”
She panted, licking her already moistened lips. “Whatever you say.”
__________
Such velvety, delicious breasts… Giles was starting to lose the battle between his honorable intentions and the lust riding him harder with every passing second. He pressed her down in the bed, her grasping hands touching him everywhere. He caught them in his and she wiggled enticingly underneath him. “Buffy, are you feeling--adventurous?”
Her eyes got wide again and they shone like twin hazel lamps. “What did you have in mind?”
He smirked at her. Smirk? Giles is smirking? Ooh, the bad boy is back. It’s Ripper, I know it. He told her in a firm voice not to move from the bed and then walked to his bureau. His back was to her and hid the drawer from her as he pulled something from it. She couldn’t see what it was but she heard a metallic rattle as he withdrew it from its place. Is that what I think it is? Please, please, let it be.
He walked back to the bed and lay down beside her, dangling the handcuffs. “Do you trust me?” Buffy went absolutely still as she recalled another English voice asking her that very same question. Then the circumstances had been similar but the feelings entirely different. She tried to re-focus on the face hovering above her.
This was Giles, her Watcher. She loved this man with a fiery passion though she had only revealed it in a dream. He had watched out for her and cared for her. Of course she trusted him.
“Yes,” she whispered and lay back on the bed stretching her arms above her head.
He was touched by this implicit show of faith. She hadn’t even asked him why he had handcuffs in his possession. Giles fastened the cuffs around the bedpost and her wrists. Impulsively he planted a chaste kiss on the top of her head. “Buffy, I’ll do my utmost to-to help you. But you have to behave. If you don’t do what I say, the fun ends here. So tell me about this fight with the demon.”
Buffy tossed her head restlessly; sweat was beginning to bead on her brow and she panted with the fever licking at her body. “The demon…it sprayed me…sprayed me with that goo. Some of it landed on me. I killed it and I thought I was fine. But suddenly I was on fire. It was like I’d turned into one big lust monkey.”
His brows furrowed at that description. Lust monkey? What…? Never mind, Giles. Stick to the questions. He ran his fingers around the cloth covering one aching nipple, stopping to ask his next question. “Then Spike arrived?”
She arched into his caress and whimpered when he ceased. “Yes, I already told you. Spike came. He--he’d arranged for the demon to be there. He knew what it would do to me.”
“He knew it would make you aroused?” He slid his hand under her blouse and brushed her stomach with just the tips of his fingers. The skin quivered under his skimming touch. Once more he stopped when he sensed she was enjoying it a little too much.
“Yes, yes, he knew. He was there to take advantage of me. After I killed it, I got horny as hell and he thought that I’d jump him because he was the first guy in my path.”
Giles slowly pushed up the bottom of her blouse. “Why did he think you’d be receptive?” Her answers were coming more quickly though they were disjointed as the fever crept through her bones.
Buffy understood the game now; for every answer she gave, Giles would touch and stroke her. It was what she wanted but, shit, it was prolonging her torture!
He had pushed the blouse high enough so that it was resting above her breasts. The petite globes were beaded with perspiration and the heaving of her breath was causing tiny rivulets of sweat to pour down onto the sheets. He ran one finger up the slippery flesh and circled it lazily around the taut pink nipple.
“He--we’d been sleeping…together…oh god, don’t stop…and I stopped it. I was afraid…more, there, please!”
Giles went rigid, the stunning confession completely cooling his burgeoning passion. She had been with Spike? Then she’d lied to him about it. The distress from the revelation was shockingly strong. However, he pushed the thought out of his mind and told himself to concentrate on the situation at hand. Discussions about any sexual sessions with the dyed menace could wait for another time.
“You were afraid? Of what?”
Her hips were dancing, bobbing up and down, as she reared up towards his teasing hand. She gasped out, “The nightmares…they made me afraid. I thought he’d turn me, make me kill my friends…kill you. So I stopped seeing him…he disappeared…for days. Then tonight, he…” She faltered in her response and moaned with dismay as he ceased his movement.
Giles gave her a stern look. “You know how this works, Buffy. He what?”
“He wanted to fuck me!” she yelled. “But I didn’t want him. I fought him…punched him…I broke his nose and knocked out one of his teeth.” She grinned fiercely as she laughed at the memory.
Giles wanted to laugh, too. But he had to maintain an unbending demeanor. He couldn’t let Buffy think he was weakening. He sucked at one pebbly nub and she cried out, twisting under him, trying to increase the contact. He drew away with a prolonged tantalizing lick.
She was sweating profusely now. Her legs thrashed on the bed and she tugged at the metal restraints. He was beginning to worry. If she were really determined to break her bonds, she would. Time for the second part of his plan. “Buffy, you look rather heated. Just hold on and I’ll bring something to cool you down.”
She jerked up, alarmed at the idea that he would leave her even for a second. “You can’t go! Giles, you don’t understand--I need you! Spike said this was like a fever; it’ll last for hours unless you help me!” She fell back as if exhausted by the admission.
He halted, appalled by this news. This sounded far more perilous than he had originally supposed. But looking at Buffy’s sweat-soaked body he decided that this wouldn’t kill her. Spike loved her, in his twisted fashion; he wouldn’t risk her life for a quick fuck, even if she had dumped him.
He drew back towards her and tenderly stroked her brow. “It’s all right, my love. I’ll be back soon.” He kissed her forehead and left the room.
Buffy blinked away the sweat running into her eyes. Had Giles called her “love” just now? It was getting harder to think but she was sure that’s what he had said. The word had the odd effect of momentarily stemming her passion. He had touched her but so far hadn’t taken the full advantage of her situation the way other men would have. Something stirred in her mind and she scrunched up her face in an effort to grab onto the hazy thought.
Giles brought out the items from the mini-fridge. He had been formulating this plan for the last two days. He’d meant to use it on Spike. But Buffy was a Slayer. She was stronger than most vampires. He only prayed it would succeed with her.
He considered for a moment and then dialed up room service. “Hello? Room service? Would you have ten bags of ice sent up to my room? Room 911. Yes, I realize it’s late. I know it’s an unusual request. Well, can you do it or not?” He paused to listen to the voice on the other end of the phone. “Bring it up in half an hour.” He walked back to the bedroom and prayed this would accomplish the task.
Buffy was lying preternaturally still on the bedspread, her breaths loud harsh rasps in the quiet of the hotel room. The sheets were soaking in the sweat pouring from her body and he rushed to her side.
“Buffy?” Her eyes fluttered open and he was dismayed by the vague lassitude in their depths. From frenzied passion to dull stupor in only a few minutes? This was deeply troubling.
Without warning, she reared up and kissed him ardently, her lips sucking at his as if he were water in an arid desert. It caught him by surprise and he yielded briefly to the attack before drawing away. “Naughty girl.”
She giggled insanely at the mild rebuke. “Gotcha.” She then glanced with curiosity at the object he’d brought back with him. “Uh, Rupert? Is that…for me? You know…I don’t like it.”
He pulled out a bottle and unscrewed the lid. “Indulge me.”
He took a swig of the liquid and then leaned over, pressing his lips to hers. She gave a muffled squeak of surprise and then opened her mouth under his. The beer passed between them and she choked slightly before swallowing. She grimaced at the awful taste but it was followed by more pressure from his lips. She bit at them hungrily before he retreated again.
“Rupert!” Then he took another sip and leaned over her again.
__________
Buffy wasn’t certain how long they repeated the game. But each time, his lips lingered a little longer, the kisses becoming deeper and more passionate. The unpleasantness of the beer taste was becoming secondary in her mind since it was immediately followed by those delightful kisses. At one point, he rubbed the cold bottle over her turgid nipples so that she gasped and shivered. “Yes, Rupert. Keep doing that. It feels so good.”
He trailed the icy surface over her ribcage and across her lean stomach. She moaned and undulated slowly on the bed. He was gratified to see that her movements were becoming more lethargic with each passing second. When she abruptly cracked her jaws with a yawn he pulled back, watching her.
“Wh-why…did…you…stop?” She blinked slowly as realization came over her. “Wha…did…you…?” Her eyes rolled in the direction of the two empty bottles standing discarded on the bedside table. “Drugs…you drugged…the…”
“I’m sorry, my dear. But it’s for your own good. I’m afraid you’ll be terribly embarrassed when this compulsion wears off and I didn’t want something to occur we would both regret come morning.” He paused as her mouth worked soundlessly in an attempt to speak.
“You…asssssshhooo…” Her voice died away completely. The next second he was treated to the sound of her gentle snores.
She snores. Never knew that. Now where’s that man with the damned ice? As if on cue, he heard the doorbell ring.
The boy from the front desk was there, along with two other stalwart gentlemen. “Here’s your ice, mister.” He brought out his billfold, tipping them handsomely. As he dragged them into the room, declining their offer of assistance, the boy peered inquisitively over his shoulder. He remembered this room--that loony girl downstairs had insisted on coming here. Where was she and what was the old geezer playing at?
“Hey, buddy. If you don’t mind my asking…?” Giles’s forbidding look stated he very much minded. The boy quailed under it for a moment and then with typical American bravado continued, “What do you want all that ice for anyway? The lady into that sort of thing?”
Giles gave him a bland English smile. “What lady? I’m making a giant smoothie.” He closed the door firmly in the vapid face.
Giles quickly emptied all the ice into the tub. In spite of her unnatural sleep, Buffy was still perspiring heavily and he feared for her health. He carefully unlocked the handcuffs and carried her unresisting body to the bathtub.
God, she was so light and now that he could look at her without fear of the consequences he was dismayed to see just how skinny she was. There were hollows under her eyes, deeper than when she’d first clawed her way out of the grave. Her ribs were showing; they felt distressingly thin under his hands.
In spite of the drugs, the fever gave her no rest; she tossed restlessly in his arms but didn’t awaken. He lowered her into the tub; she gasped almost inaudibly at the contact but remained unconscious.
All through the night, he stayed up, bathing her brow and occasionally calling room service to replace the ice. Buffy muttered and moaned in her sleep; sometimes she wept. She mentioned his name and Spike’s. From the disconnected ramblings he learned how the affair had first started: how she had turned to Spike because she missed Giles, how much she hated the vampire and hated herself.
His heart broke repeatedly that night and more than once he was tempted to leave the room so he wouldn’t have to hear any more. But he couldn’t abandon her again. And so he remained.
__________
He was in the desert. He didn’t recognize it at all. It wasn’t the place he’d taken Buffy but that was all he could ascertain about it. He turned around when he heard voices.
Buffy was standing there in a white, sleeveless dress with cherries scattered over it. She looked so beautiful, healthy and glowing…so different from how she’d appeared since she crawled from her grave.
She was staring off in front of her as if oblivious to his presence. When he followed the direction of her gaze, he saw Tara along with a young woman of African descent. The woman had frizzy tangled hair, her body was barbarously dressed in rags tightly wrapped around her skin and she moved around Buffy with the stealth of a predator.
Goodness, I know her. The First Slayer.
“Make her speak.” Buffy’s voice was cold, commanding.
Tara said, “I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death: the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute. Alone.”
Buffy glanced down at a picture she held in her hands and Giles peering over her shoulder saw a photo of himself, Buffy, Willow and Xander. They were moving, talking and laughing in the comfortable, relaxed camaraderie they had all developed over the years.
Her first friends--we’re the first ones she ever met when she came to the Hellmouth. Somehow he knew this knowledge was important, though he wasn’t certain what it meant in the current situation. Before he could figure it out, Buffy spoke to the savage woman before her.
“Give me back my friends.”
The First spoke, her voice hoarse and grating, human speech as foreign to her as grooming. “No…friends. Just…the kill. We…are…alone.”
“She’s right, you know.” There it was again--Spike’s voice. Buffy and Giles looked up and saw him standing where Tara had been. “We exist in the blood, in the darkness. It’s what you were born for. That’s what makes us a perfect match. That’s what your friends can never understand.
“They want you to go back to being what you were--Buffy the bridesmaid, Buffy the good little mum, Buffy the worker and housewife. But you’re the Slayer. That’s what you are and the sooner you come to grips with that, the happier you’ll be. Death is your gift. Accept it.”
Spike stepped forward and extended his hand. The picture dropped to the ground and fluttered away in the light wind. She stared at his hand as if it was a poisonous snake but her own began to inch forward.
“Get away from her!” Giles lunged forward to drag her away, to attack this poncy son of a bitch who would come between him and his charge. But his body fell through Spike and neither the petite blond nor the vampire noticed him at all.
But someone else was watching. Buffy may have been ambivalent in her feelings towards Spike but the primitive woman with her had no such indecision. She knew a demon when she saw one and knew the proper response. An animalistic howl came from her throat and she lunged at the vampire with the bone knife.
“That’s it! Get the wanker!” Giles shouted and looked on helplessly as the two began to wage battle. The woman connected with the knife and Giles could hear the solid chunk of bone piercing through flesh. But Spike merely hissed with the pain and backhanded her. Buffy stood like a statue on the sidelines as she watched the conflict.
“Buffy, what the hell’s the matter with you? Don’t just stand there, do something!” Buffy started and looked around in confusion. Giles stood up and ran to her. His hands fell through her shoulders; evidently he was still insubstantial. But she had heard him, he was sure of it.
“Listen to me, Buffy! I am your Watcher. As I told you from the beginning, slaying is a birthright. It’s your sacred duty. But you showed me there’s so much more to it. If you’ve survived, it’s because of your friends, your connections to this world: your mother, Dawn, Xander, Willow, god help me, even Angel. Don’t let anyone--this poor misguided woman, Spike, any demon--separate you from them.”
He felt something papery between his fingers and found the moving picture in it again. He thrust it towards her and she stared as the photo apparently floated to her out of thin air. She grabbed it in her hands--
–And looked into his eyes. “Giles?”
“Giles?” Jerking up with a start he realized that he’d managed to fall asleep, in spite of his uncomfortable position on the chilly bathroom floor. The sleepy murmur came from the tub beside him. “Giles? What’s going on? What are you doing here?”
He sat up as various aches and pains from sleeping on the cold surface manifested themselves. “Buffy?”
Those glorious hazel eyes were staring at him sleepily from over the edge of the tub. The next moment they blinked and awareness flooded in as her eyes traveled across the hotel room ceiling, sink and green-colored walls. “For that matter, where’s here?”
He stood up clumsily and extended his hand towards her. She grasped it automatically and stood up. She looked down at herself, her clothes drenched from the melted ice, her bare feet and her expression became comical in its bewilderment. And then her eyes widened and he saw the memories of last night rush in.
“Oh shit.”

TBC
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In Dreams I Walk With You