It's uncomfortably comfortable to feel Buffy climb onto his back again and rest her chin on his shoulder. Mostly because, when Derek thinks about it, they've only known each other about two weeks, give or take, and they started off on a pretty distrustful foot, at least on his end. Now, he thinks nothing of carrying her around; she thinks nothing of making herself comfortable while he does it.

"See, could be worse," he replies, adjusting her weight on his back before he starts moving. Maybe he likes her because she reminds him a little of his sisters. Buffy is kind of a healthy mix of Laura before the fire and Cora after it. So he, weirdly, has a vested interest in trying to cheer her up a little. He hasn't realized it yet, but Derek has sort of adopted Buffy as de facto little sister.

"It was definitely something. All I had all day was water and coffee. I guess it could've been the soylent, but I barely ate any today…" he says thoughtfully. He huffs a little. "Thank God for small favors," he agrees to the sentiment that, clearly, it's worn off. Idiots, indeed.

Thinking he's seen something moving in the corner of his eye, Derek whirls in place, his fingertips digging into Buffy's thighs to keep from dropping her. "What was that? Did you see that? You saw that, right? Somebody's following us," he hisses.