(no subject)

[un_gloved]

It was a jarring way to come to. Rogue lurched upward, jolted, before her body could protest the activity. The fatigue, the stiffness, the ache, all the same as last time. She looked at the empty chair beside her bed, the one piece of furniture salvaged from the hut. A sudden, roiling wave of nausea came over her and she curled over, wrapping her arms as far around her head as they would go and keeling slowly over into her pillows.

Not moving. Not moving and not opening her eyes, that sounded like a good plan. She shivered in the air conditioning, sliding her hands up into the voluminous sleeves of the oversized t-shirt, up and down over her shoulders. What a wreck. She stayed that way for less than half a minute, trying to focus on what was important about what her fingers were touching. Some awful tension knots in her shoulders, sure...

The second jolt was just as uncomfortable but more decisive, and she pushed herself clumsily out of the bed, traded the long legged pajama bottoms for a pair of running shorts that stuck out from under the bed, and pulled on her flats as she hobbled for the door. She exited swiftly, not bothering to check on anyone else on her way out, and was, finally hitting her stride, muscles forced to loosen, running down the hall for the exit compound when a thought struck her. She pivoted back and ran to the bathroom to rinse her mouth with whatever most closely resembled edible bleach, splashed water on her face but steadfastly did not look at herself in the mirror as she did so, and then was off and running again.

Apparently, judging by the still and relative inactivity, or only the few, confused and groggy looking people she spotted along the way, the rest of the island's inhabitants were just waking up from their comas, or just finding out that the strangeness had passed. Those were the few who looked relieved, if still aggravated.

The way was so familiar it didn't take long, and she pushed the door to Spike's place open without knocking. She took a moment in the doorway to catch her breath.

Comments

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"You bring any food?" Spike asks, without looking at the door. He's staring at the roof, one hand tucked under his head.

At least he had a comfortable mattress to spend days in, he guesses.

It's not helping any. His eye twitches, and does not see the roof. "I'm starving."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Nope," she said simply, almost wincing at the sound of her own voice. It was so rough. She'd be self conscious about it later.

Rogue pushed the door shut again with one hand while the other was already grabbing up the hem of her shirt. She crossed the room to the bed, peeling it off over her head as she did so and discarding it carelessly to the floor.

"Move," she bossed him, and without really waiting for him to do so slid down into the bed beside him, immediately wrapping one arm around his shoulders and the other about his waist and pressing her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

Spike moves, shifting to allow her to fit herself wherever she will.

"Well, hi," he says. He even manages something towards cheerful about it.

Having her touching him again helps that, some, though it's still forced.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Even settled against him, she wasn't still. She moved her cheek against his shoulder, rubbed the bridge of her nose in slow strokes against jaw, and her palms and fanned out fingertips moved in very slow rhythms, simply pulsing against his skin and muscle. She didn't answer, happy for a moment not to make any noise and just listen to the slightly electric non-sound of his heartbeat and breath.

Eventually, she murmured, "Hi back."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"You just spend days dreaming about some dump of a town?" Spike asks, still staring upwards but having looped one arm to sling low around Rogue's back.

Best check. His sense of reality is uncertain at the best of times. Right now, it's just completely out of whack.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Not mah dream," she said, and refrained from pointing out that she was more or less living hers, at the moment. Give or take a few details. Maybe not the ones she would have thought, as little as a year back.

"Brodie's. Only part o'that that Ah was respons'ble for was you."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"...thanks," Spike says dryly.

He's not exactly sure how far he means or doesn't mean that. Nice that apparently she dragged him along, but he's been lying here ever since then wondering whether he's actually here or not.

He's still working it out.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"What," she prompted him. Spike wasn't the chattiest guy, and their current conversation, such as it was, didn't require much from either of them. She would have been just as pleased not talking, with the feel of all that skin to focus on. It was the impression of reticence that bothered her.

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Still trying to figure out if I woke up," Spike says, by way of oblique reply.

He supposes this is the nice part of the dream, if he didn't, but he'd like to know. He's not hopeful, but it'd be nice.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue sighed against his chest, closing her eyes. If she hadn't gone through it once, she'd probably be wondering the same thing.

"You woke up."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

Spike lifts up his head long enough to look down at her, then lets it fall back on the bed. He combs one hand lightly through her hair.

"That'll have to do, I guess," he says.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She pushed herself up to sitting, leaning over him, feeling sleepy again now that she wasn't panicked or running, or at least tired, the sort of lethargy that came from total inactivity.

"What would it take?"

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Beats me," Spike says, looking over at her rather than continuing his study of the ceiling.

It's a considerably more pleasant view, all things considered.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Then what can I say," she said, blinking a few times, watching his face, trying to get more alert.

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

He looks slightly sympathetic, of all things, and says, "Don't worry about it," before pushing himself up on his elbows to kiss her briefly before settling back down.

It's not something she can fix, after all.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She closed her eyes at the brush of his mouth. Another thing she'd missed. She draped herself across his chest, pressing her forehead to his neck again.

"Oh, well, sure, then. I just won't give it another thought."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Good," Spike says, closing his eyes.

Not that he believes her, and he's clearly not meant to, but he figures he might as well say that he does.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Jerk," she mumbled.

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Thought we weren't doing nicknames," he says, stroking her back.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Oh," she sighed, stretching a little under his fingers, arms curling around his shoulders, "right, so sorry..."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Liar," Spike accuses, with a complete absence of malice.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Mmn," she sighed back, shaking her head a little.

"Nmm-mmn."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Yeah you are," Spike argues, circling his other arm around her as well.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Oh yeah? Test me," she said, sinking a little to one side of him, into the weight of his arms.

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"You want me to ask you something you'll lie about?" Spike says, sounding ambivalently curious.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"You have t'ask me somethin' you'll know isn't true if I'm lyin'," she replied lazily, although this answer was not the same as 'no', not by a long shot.

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Like what?" Spike asks, which may not be entirely helpful to the exercise. "Comfortable?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"I ain't gonna help you, idiot," she mumbled, and then wriggled slowly for a moment, settled, and let out a quiet breath.

"Mmn. Uh-huh."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Idiot, huh?" Spike says, not moving at all, because letting her settle herself was just fine, frankly.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Not answerin' that one. Go on, if you're gonna," Rogue said, absently trailing her fingers in nonsense patterns across his chest.