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Chapter 66: Surveillance

Barely any sleep was had at the Summers house through the night, and by five a.m., Buffy and Spike were entering the Magic Box through the training room entrance, wanting to make certain to beat the sunrise.

Giles wouldn’t be in for a couple of hours, and Buffy, all twitchy and grumpy from a restless night, wanted to get in a good workout before she had a little talk with Giles.

She had called him the night before, explaining to him that she had a plan, and she needed his help. All they needed was to get the equipment they needed and get Travers in the right place at the right time. Luckily, they had their computer-whiz, Willow handy. The only problem was that Quentin Travers was nowhere to be found, and after Giles had made a few phone calls, he’d been told that Mr. Travers was away on business. Unfortunately for the Scoobies, that vacation was most likely not on some exotic beach complete with a fruity drink with a little pink umbrella.

Buffy, clad in a pair of grey jogging pants and a white tank top, tossed the camera-filled carousel onto the nearest bench, wrapped her hands and moved her head from side to side, stretching her neck. She shook her shoulders and her arms and let the tension melt away. But when she turned to start at the punching bag, she noticed Spike tossing off his blazer. He peeled his black T-shirt off and came across to her in his black jeans. She felt her breath hitch in her chest, and she licked her lips.

“You’re training too?” she wondered.

“S’been a while since we had a good rough and tumble,” Spike murmured.

“Oh please,” she laughed. “What about at four o’clock this morning?” She cleared her throat and in her best bad British impression said, “oi! Buffy? As long as we’re both awake…”

“Not that kind of rough and tumble, and please, don’t try the accent. Doesn’t suit you at all.” Buffy rolled her eyes.

“So you want to fight?”

“Give it to me good, luv.” Buffy noticed his eyes gaze down at her belly for just a second before flickering back up to her eyes.

“Oh, I see. You want to train with me so you can monitor me.”

“What?”

“Oh, please. I’m fine, Spike. And Bitty Buffy is too.” She smiled a little. “I don’t need you hovering or worrying. But…I might need you afterward for a massage. You know…” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. “For a good cool down…a massage…maybe…” Her words disappeared into his mouth, and he drew her tightly against his body.

His hands grazed up her sides, and despite the fact that she knew she should be focusing her attentions on training and keeping herself in shape for Travers’ impending arrival, she couldn’t help but lose herself in the feel of Spike’s fingertips against her bare skin as he raised her shirt up.

“Stop,” she giggled as the pleasurable caresses gave way to tickling flutters along her ribcage. But when his mouth found the hollow of her throat and began to trail along her collarbone, she leaned her head back. “Oh….or…you know…don’t stop.” She bit her lip and raised her arms up so he could slide the shirt the rest of the way off.

She raised her eyebrows, impressed as he managed to lower the both of them to the mat and remove her bra at the same time. With a little growl, he tossed her bra over his shoulder and immediately sought out her hard, darkened nipples, while Buffy’s fingers teased the nape of his neck and began to explore his broad shoulders and his chest.

Spike murmured something against Buffy’s chest, and she giggled.

“What?” she asked.

“I said,” he murmured, flicking his tongue over her hardened little rosebud of a nipple, “you’re spoiling me. Nature. Wonderful, isn’t it?” Spike kneaded one of Buffy’s soft mounds in one hand, and Buffy glared at him.

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable. After this baby’s born, they’ll probably go back to the tiny little non-breasts they were before you oh-so-magically impregnated me with your cold, dead seed.” Spike growled a little and pressed a rough kiss to Buffy’s mouth. She bit his bottom lip, and he chuckled against her.

“Love them, big or small, just ‘cause they’re yours.”

“Yeah. And I’m sure you don’t ever think about Harmony and her enormous…”

“Let’s not bring that airhead into this, luv. Talk like that’s just gonna scare away the…” He felt her hand cup against his erection, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. “Or not, if you keep that up.” Buffy grinned again. “Believe me, pet. You’re all I think about. Never had it as good as I do with you.” Buffy, seemingly satisfied at this, smiled and gave him a playful peck on the lips. “Now, off with your pants.”

“Oh, I like that plan,” she whispered, wriggling her hips a little, as Spike proceeded to divest her of pants and pull her into a little private, one-on-one cardio training, both completely forgetting about the reason they’d come to the store this morning, the carousel.

***

“What are you…oh my God!” Cordelia Chase’s hand flew to her mouth as she walked into the room carrying Connor Chase Angel on one hip. “You…is that…Angel!” Angel quickly shut off his computer monitor and turned to see Cordy standing there with his son.

“Sorry, I…”

“You were watching them?”

“No! I…they just…started,” he muttered, his face falling. “I wasn’t going to…I just…” He sighed and stood up, reaching out for his son. Cordelia rolled her eyes and handed the baby boy over to his father.

“Ok, I think it’s time you called her and let her know. Seems to me like she’s getting more than freaked out about it.”

“She wasn’t supposed to find the camera.” Angel rocked a fussy Connor back and forth.

“Yeah, well, good job, genius.”

“I don’t like you when you’re grouchy. You didn’t have to keep getting up with him last night, you know.”

“Well, if we’re going to raise this baby together, I think I do.” Cordelia sighed and moved toward the phone. “You know, in retrospect, that carousel was a pretty creepy gift.”

“It’s not a gift.”

“Oh, right,” Cordelia mused. “The moment Wesley accidentally spilled the beans about the vampire baby, you had to jump on your white horse and do something about it.”

“I didn’t…there was no horse. And Buffy doesn’t know I know.”

“Yeah,” Cordelia replied quietly, “but it’s a little creepy that you’re spying on her. She doesn’t know what the hell is going on, and now, she and her husband are having sex in front of the thing. As your girlfriend, I should be a little pissed off about that, but I’m willing to let it slide just this once.”

“It’s not…I don’t feel that way about her anymore. Of course, I wouldn’t have picked Spike as the guy she should be with, but…”

“But it’s not your business. You need to call her and tell her that this was all part of your stupid issues with Spike, and how you think that nothing that comes from his loins can be anything but evil, despite the fact that our sweet, happy son is also the child of a vampire.”

“Ok, I really don’t like it when you don’t sleep. You get surprisingly insightful.”

“Yeah. Well,” Cordelia said quietly, “I might have been popular in high school, but that didn’t automatically make me an idiot. Angel, if you’re really over her, you’ll…just…you know, let her go. If their baby turns out to be evil, three-headed, or the bringer of the apocalypse…well, it’s their apocalypse to fight now. They’re married.” Connor began to fuss a little more, and Cordelia reached out for him. “I’m gonna give Connor a bath, and then we’re going to the park. When we get back, I want this to be taken care of.” Angel watched Cordelia walk out of the room with their son.

With a glance back at the blank computer monitor, he turned and left the room, deciding to give Buffy a while to finish up with Spike before he called and admitted his, according to Cordelia, super creepy surveillance for his own peace of mind.

***

Faith woke with a start to the sound of movement from the cot. She sat up quickly from her own cot across the way from Dana’s, and to her surprise, she saw a pair of eyes staring back at her with much more lucidity than she’d seen since London.

“Dana?” Faith moved across the basement floor, and she watched as Dana shrunk back in the cot. “Dana, it’s Faith. You’re in Buffy’s basement. We’re…” Dana whimpered a little, pulling her arms around her knees, hugging them to herself as her shackles clinked in the darkness.

“Don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Dana. I…”

“I don’t know you. I don’t…where am I?” Faith felt a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach, and she sighed heavily.

“Just focus, Dana. Ok? Like I said, I’m Faith. We were in London at the Council.”

“Council,” Dana murmured. “Mr. Travers.”

“That’s right. You remember him?”

“No. Not…he’s…he’s a bad man?” She hugged her knees tighter against her body.

“Right,” Faith said quietly. Dana’s eyes darted around the dark room, and Faith reached above her, pulling a chain that led to a light bulb, illuminating the room a little more. It was then that Dana caught sight of a little bag hanging on a hook.

“Needles,” she cried. “No! Please don’t…” Faith held her hands up.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m trying to help.” Dana was shaking uncontrollably, and Faith stepped a little closer.

“No!” Dana screamed. Faith paused.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just…I wanna talk.” Dana tried to move from the cot, but the shackles held her back.

“Please,” Dana murmured. “Please. Please…” Faith took another step closer, but the girl cried out, as if she were truly afraid for her life. Footsteps echoed down the stairs as Hank and Dawn came rushing down to see what the commotion was all about. “Get away from me!”

“Go back upstairs!” Faith ordered. Hank and Dawn stood close behind Faith now.

“Is she ok?” Hank wondered.

“Go upstairs. Dawn!” Dawn tugged on her father’s arm, but the moment Faith’s focus had shifted to the youngest Summers girl, Dana had found her strength again, and as wildly as a cornered animal, she thrust forward, her Slayer strength helping pull the shackles at her will. The chain came loose from its plate on the wall, and she fell forward onto her stomach. Faith started toward her, but the girl was already up and pushing past her, sending her flying into the side of the stackable washer and drier, leaving a sizeable dent that she figured Buffy would kill her for later. But right now, what mattered was containing the wild Slayer and hopefully preventing her from getting into any trouble in the meantime.

“Faith!” Dawn exclaimed, hurrying over to help the Slayer up. “Are you…”

“She’s getting away!” Faith brushed past Dawn and followed Dana Mullens out of the Summers’ home and down the street in full pursuit.





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