#brink

But she was yawning, and nuzzling his chest, her fists clutching the back of his shirt, and suddenly she was just a little girl, falling asleep in his lap, and she’d trusted him to let her do so.

Pulled some ethereal mojo to make sure he could do a damn fine job at protecting her too, apparently, but that wasn’t the point right now. After sliding the chip into his pocket, he scooped her up, and carried her downstairs, tucking her safely into his bed, but watching her shrewdly all the while, to see if she did anything else… odd.

She didn’t. She was still his Buffy, hair all soft and long, spilling out over his pillow, bathing it in her scent. With her little upturned nose, her fair eyelashes caressing her cheeks… the dark circles under her eyes that confirmed how badly she’d been sleeping lately.

Her heartbeat sounded like it should, beating away steadily, keeping her alive, her chest rising and falling slow and relaxed, as she pulled in deep, sleeping breaths. 

He cupped her cheek in one hand, and felt the fire underneath. She was always warm, but this… this was new. Her skin was burning, or felt like it, anyway. She wasn’t feverish, not that he’d seen, and she hadn’t complained of being too hot.

And after a moment or so of keeping his hand there, he could feel some of the heat start to leech away, until she was back to her normal Buffy warmth. Which was still higher than most humans, or at least he’d always thought so. But it was cool enough for him to bend down and press his lips to her forehead, without fearing he would burst into flames.