The Ice Age
No Pain. Or was it someone holding his hand? Or did one mean the other?
There was ice but it wasn’t cold. It was day but he didn’t burn. It was the beach but it wasn’t the idyllic best version of vacation, the beach was vacated but he wasn’t alone. It was the hot, sweet hot, breaking the ice, starting the mating that would melt down the demon.
This was love. This was how he loved her. And there she was in a parka perfect, perfect glowing self barely contained by pearly skin.
She turns to look him and with the rising sun at her back, she blocks the sun and it makes this kinda halo around her head that puts her face in shadow, and this is what she is to him.
This is how he loved her then. This is how it began.
It was the ice age; it was the ice in your drink on a hot day.
It was the beginning of his word; it was the end of his world.
It was the end of the world he new and maybe, maybe there was some brave new place where the sun shone, someplace that you could barely imagine when the ice age was all you knew but now the sun was shining. The ice had covered the entire world and you thought it was all over but maybe it was just the blink before beginning.
She walked to him. She was smiling, he couldn’t see her face...but he felt her smile reach him before her hand did.
One of her hands gripped the lapel of his parka and jerked him toward her and the other came up slowly to stroke his cheek.
Soft, so soft, so hard and smooth, it was soft too.
He smiled. This was the Buffy he loved best. One hand that grabs and grips and takes what she wants. One hand grabbing; one hand clapping and oh, oh the concert! The concert of her.
She kisses him and he wraps his arms around her and holds on. He breathes her in, her scent made sharp and clean in his head clearing him out like Buffy menthol mingled with the cold air. The pulse of their bodies is muffled by the thick coats in between and so he dips his head to connect his cheek to hers. Skin to skin, faces lightly touching, sweet warm electric trails to poles north and south--cheek to cheek, lips skimming skin, nose to nose...oh...
So that’s why the Ennuit rub noses...
*
(click left arrow to wake up Spike)
