Henri-Frédéric Amiel
The next few days were crazy busy. Buried amongst the arrangements for the Recruitment Teams: sorting out who would be in each team; dividing up the areas; preparing lists of the candidates names and addresses; booking hotel accommodation; arranging conference room hire; shooting video footage of the Slayers in training for the presentation; and packing for their time away; Buffy and Spike seemed to have very little time for themselves.
She knew they were working to a strict timeframe and that what they were doing was important, but Buffy couldn’t help feeling a little resentful that she and Spike had practically had to schedule time to see one another. And Spike had only just been resurrected/rescued, damn it!!
It had been three days since the big board meeting. Everyone was zipping around like crazy so that the local teams could set out on Sunday. Team One wouldn’t leave until Monday because they were covering Southern England and Wales on Day 1 and 2 before hitting North England, Scotland and over to Ireland for the one young lass showing up there, on Day 3. Team Two were responsible for France, and Team Three for Spain and Portugal, so they were heading off first, each team flying over, then hiring a van, intending to be based on the continent for a while.
Buffy was almost eleven weeks pregnant. Her nausea had eased off considerably, but she still had to be careful in the mornings, and make sure she didn’t get too tired. She also had a prenatal (or antenatal as they called it here in the U.K.) appointment in a weeks time, so she hadn’t been included in the first four teams, all of whom would be on the road for three weeks solid before flying home for a week’s break. The younger Slayers were keen to take on the responsibility themselves, claiming it would be empowering and a chance to prove themselves without the senior Slayers around.
Which was fine with Buffy. She just couldn’t wait for them to all clear out so that she and Spike could have some couple time. But not just yet unfortunately. Andrew had shot all the footage and was just doing some last minute editing and special effects, which he claimed would make the promotional video an absolute hit. He was as delusional as ever, but there was no denying he had some very bankable skills and seemed to be making himself quite indispensable.
Buffy had been in three segments, putting the Sunnydale Slayers through formation exercises, in a fight sequence with Spike, and delivering a presentation about what it was like to be a Slayer. Spike and Willow and Giles had helped her write it, a heavily edited version of her life over the last eight years, and she’d tried hard to deliver it in a friendly, welcoming, serious and wise sort of way. Which, between the fluffed lines, giggling, mumbling, attacks of nausea and excessive grumpiness took Andrew about ten takes.
It didn’t help that Spike stood there smirking throughout the entire production.
He’d been busy himself. Apart from the few video segments he’d featured in, Spike had surprisingly spent much of his time closeted away with Giles, Robson, Ashton, Matthew and a few other Watchers that she didn’t know by name. They were reviewing the direction that Watcher Training would take at the Sackville Academy, and more importantly the role that the modern Watcher would now play in the new Squads.
She and several other of the girls had been asked for their ten cent’s worth on the merits and pitfalls of the Slayer/Watcher relationship, where from their points of view it could be strengthened and broadened and what main skills and qualities a Watcher should have. Buffy knew this was a whole new organization, with a whole new perspective, but it still felt weird being in a room full of Watcher types and not being looked down on, told off or subjected to the third degree.
Weirder still was seeing Spike sitting there quite comfortably amongst the group. She knew that the older Watchers were pretty wary of him still, their knowledge of his vicious, bloodthirsty past too difficult to overcome on such short notice and at Giles’ say so. The younger ones seemed to look up to him though. Maybe they saw him as a kind of post-modern antihero or something. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she’d spotted a touch of hero worship in Matthew and Ashton’s earnest gazes. Definitely post-apocalypsy weirdness.
But in other ways Spike seemed to fit right in. He’d taken to wearing an open chambray shirt over his black t-shirt and leaving the duster behind in their suite. It was his one, small concession towards toning down the Big Bad look. Checking out the group, Buffy thought it seemed to be working. Jotting down things on the notepad in front of him and conversing with his team mates in such sincere, subdued tones, Spike could almost pass for a Watcher.
Okay, so Spike hadn’t exactly appreciated that observation when she’d voiced it two nights ago. He’d tackled her and rolled them both onto the bed, growling that he’d “show her Watcher”, whatever the hell that meant. Well he’d certainly shown her something all right, over and over.
His lips and tongue had chased his fingers across her face, down her neck and onto the soft upper curves of her breasts, the first stroking and caressing while the second lapped and tasted. Deftly, he’d released her lacy bra and her swollen mounds had burst out, only to be captured by his mouth.
With fingers and lips, he’d tugged fiercely on her engorged nipples, driving her to the fine line between pleasure and pain. He kept up that suckling pressure as he looked up and captured her eyes, staring intently at her as he backed off and flicked her nipple once, twice. Buffy’s breath hitched and thick cream flooded her loins as a sudden and unexpected orgasm ripped through her body.
Lying there, panting and restless, she’d tried to rip her shirt and jeans off, desperate to feel Spike’s body pressed against hers. But his hands had stilled her and he’d continued his slow, tender mission, gently divesting her of her shirt, releasing each button reverently, before placing lazy, sensuous kisses upon each square of revealed skin.
By the time he’d reached her belly button, his tongue flicking in and out of the indentation as she lay there topless on the bed, Buffy was ready to go off again. He’d slid himself back up the bed to lie alongside her, just staring down at her intensely, a mysterious little Mona Lisa smile on his face as he’d popped open her jeans and slipped his hand into the snug space between her knickers and her overheated flesh.
She’d felt the muscles in her abdomen clench and quiver as his fingertips had wriggled under the top band of her sodden knickers. Her breathing was erratic and she was moaning. Spike had slowly thrust his whole hand further south, curling his fingers around until he was lightly cupping her whole mons in his palm.
He’d pressed down very gently and Buffy could feel herself throbbing wildly against his cool palm. She’d tried to tilt her hips up and grind herself against him, desperate by then to get herself off. He’d just smiled at her and used the heel of his hand to push her back down, applying a steady, maddening pressure just above her clit.
Buffy was moaning, almost frothing at the mouth and she was trembling before he reached down and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth, pulled back to gaze intently at her once more, then slid the middle finger of his cupped hand down into her drenched slit. He quickly dragged it upwards then neatly flicked his fingertip once, twice, three times over her swollen clit and she literally exploded. Limbs flailing and a high pitched whining noise coming from her slack mouth, she’d barely been aware as Spike slid the finger responsible down, added it to the next digit and thrust upwards into her spasming cunt. He ground against her g spot and used his thumb to press on her button and she went off again, bucking and screaming fit to burst.
And burst she had, juices pouring from her overexcited quim in torrents as Spike kept on thrusting. Finally she’d begun to calm down and had lain there panting, only semi conscious. Fuck, three huge orgasms and she hadn’t even gotten her pants off. Spike was still staring down at her as he curled his hand up into a fist and cautiously dragged it away from her crotch and out of her jeans. Bringing his fist up to his mouth, he opened it up to form a cup. His long, wicked tongue shot out, lapping at the pool of luscious fluids lying in his palm, licking and slurping. Buffy had felt her stomach muscles clench, and her pussy throb again at the sight of that dexterous muscle, moaning as he continued to stare at her.
Finally, his hand was empty. One by one he’d sucked his talented fingers into his hot mouth, sucking up every drop of pussy juice. Buffy had shivered as he’d dropped his damp fingers down to her mouth and traced the outline of her lips. The fragrance of her excitement drifted around her as he’d smirked and said, “So what do you think of your Big Bad Watcher vamp now?”
Buffy had shrieked and rolled him over, attacking his mouth with her lips and his jeans with her hands. Spike might have acted as cool as a Watchery cucumber, but the front of his jeans were sopping, soaked through with the copious amount of precum that had already leaked from his rigid, overexcited cock. She’d briefly thought about getting her own back, putting him through the slow, torturous build up he’d subjected her to, but when it came down to it, she just couldn’t wait. She needed him. Like now!
She’d dragged the denim off impatiently and pounced on his trembling cock, sliding her lips down over the swollen head, licking off his sweet oils. She’d sucked deeply, his cock nudging the back of her throat, then pulled up to swirl her Slayer blessed tongue over his knob. “Ha,” she’d thought as he’d shivered and groaned, “Not so cool now are you, Mr Watcher guy?”
He’d got a bit short changed on the foreplay, but it really had served him right, and anyway, Buffy couldn’t wait any longer. She’d knelt up and shimmied out of her own jeans, kicking them off one leg but too impatient to worry about the other leg. She’d straddled him and reached back to position him at the entrance to her burning cunt.
Her muscles had sucked him in as she’d driven herself down onto his full length. He’d grasped her hips tightly and thrust up into her heat, both of them grunting and panting. This was no love making session, just an out and out fuck, both of them too desperate for their own completion to worry too much about the other’s needs.
Not that it mattered because within minutes Buffy had felt Spike swell within her and her body had responded to his call, clamping down on his turgid shaft and milking the spurts of juice he’d fed her.
Finally they were sated and she’d collapsed on top of him. That’s when the giggles had started, deep belly laughs that roused Spike from his drowsy state.
“What?” he’d grumbled, laughter not being the exact reaction he was going for.
“What do you mean ‘What’ Mr Big Bad Watcher?” she’d smirked, looking up at him playfully. “Oh and I’m never gonna be able to look at this Watcher shirt again without blushing.” She sighed as she stroked the blue shirt he was still wearing, ironically considering their otherwise naked and dishevelled state.
Spike had reached down and pressed a kiss sweetly to her forehead before growling in her ear, “Just so long as you don’t forget kitten. Don’t mind helpin’ the Geek Brigade out, but I’m still more Big Bad than Watcher any day.”
Buffy had kissed him back and tapped his nose. “Oh there’s no chance of me forgetting that. But just make sure you don’t forget, no including this particular set of skills on the new Watcher training schedule, okay?”
He’d chuckled at her as she’d snuggled down in his arms and they’d chatted about the actual outcomes of the Watcher meeting before drifting off to sleep.
Buffy sighed. That had been two days ago and they’d had precious little time to schedule a repeat performance since then. Every day had brought new challenges and a long list of meetings to attend, calls to make, timetables to organise, strategies to plan. Most nights she fell into bed exhausted, too tired from the endless jobs and pregnancy hormones to do anything other than sleep. So not fair.
Today’s big job had revolved around getting Faith, Lisa, Leslie and their Watcher, Ashton Hurst, packed up and on the plane to L.A. Thanks to Faith, Giles and Xander’s efforts, they had already leased a training room come living space in downtown L.A. and it was ready to move into. It had two bedrooms, which the three girls could share between them, and an office they could convert into a bedroom for Ashton.
Lisa and Leslie had both survived the Sunnydale Battle, so Faith was pleased to have their experience, but they were both quiet girls, neither of them really leadership material at this stage. They’d accompanied Faith on her ill-fated raid, but despite the outcome, still had confidence in her.
Ashton was rather a nervy type, not unlike Wesley in his early days. But he was an excellent researcher and quite competent with the magic making according to Giles.
And Faith, well she had plenty of experience and mad skills. She could be a little hot headed at times, a little impetuous, but Buffy could see amazing leadership potential in Faith. She just needed to get away and stamp her own authority on a place. Altogether, Buffy thought Faith’s squad would make a good team.
She knew Faith herself was just amping to head off. Partly it was because she was impatient to get a head start on a whole raft of jobs that were lined up over there. Her squad formed Recruitment Team 4 and they were due to start identifying and connecting with new Slayers from Monday. Over the weekend they had to lease a van so that they could start their search with the West Coast.
Faith also needed to check in with Angel. He’d contacted them to let them know he’d met with Cyvus Vail already, but he was pretty light on the details of the meeting other than to say things were ‘in hand’. Whatever that meant! Wesley had also kept in contact with them and was generally more forthcoming about anything that he was aware of.
They all felt that Angel, as well as Wolfram Hart itself, needed to be watched fairly carefully. Angel seemed so secretive and it was hard to say how much actual control he had over the law firm. Buffy wasn’t sure what the deal was between Faith and Angel. She knew they’d been good friends in the past, but going by the Slayer’s comments in L.A. it seemed like she might be interested in a little more than friendship.
Angel still had the curse in effect of course, but Faith was a pretty canny girl and Buffy trusted that she would know how to walk the fine line between fun and disaster. Faith deserved some happiness, Buffy just wasn’t sure it would end up being with Angel but either way, she wished Faith all the best.
But Buffy figured that at least part of the reason that Faith was so keen to head off was to escape the messy and awkward situation between her and Wood. She’d had the big ‘its not you its me’ talk with him as soon as they’d got back from L.A. He hadn’t really taken it too well and had been insistent that she was just running scared and that he’d give her some space for now rather than accept her request to end their relationship.
Her announcement sure hadn’t improved Wood’s mood any. He’d been pretty touchy ever since he’d heard about the plans for Spike’s rescue and his disposition had gone even further downhill since they’d got back from L.A.
He hated Spike, and probably not without good cause. So it had to burn that not only had the guy who’d killed his Mom returned from the supposed final death he’d wished on him, but that he’d been welcomed back as a conquering hero. Yeah, Buffy could see how that would seriously piss him off.
But Wood was also too valuable an asset just to dismiss. With the training he’d received from old Bernard Crowley and his educational background, his skills were in short supply. And Buffy remembered what an outgoing, laid-back guy he could be from his Sunnydale High days. But he wasn’t doing anybody any good in his current mood. She hoped Giles had a viable plan up his sleeve for the guy.
Buffy sighed and went back to her current task, completing an inventory on all of the weapons they had, including condition and size of each weapon and then selecting a range to ship out to L.A. It wasn’t the most exciting of jobs, but she was probably one of the best qualified to do it so it made sense.
She’d put together a good selection, different types of swords, knives, axes, crossbows and heaps of stakes. While she was doing so, she was working out how many weapons they were going to need in order to set up the more than thirty branches of Amazon International Giles intended to open around the globe. She knew it might take years to get them all up and running but there was no rush. One thing they were gonna need a lot more of though was weapons. Maybe they’d have to get on eBay or start going to heaps of garage sales, she thought.
Finally, she had everything itemized and a good stock of weapons ready to pack into an L.A. bound shipping crate, including the blessed sword she’d used on Angel back when she was 17 and the knife Faith had got from the Mayor. They’d both been in the weapon’s chest that had been packed onto the bus in Sunnydale, but neither one had been used in the Battle. Both beautifully crafted weapons, she hoped they brought Faith better luck in the future than they had gifted either one of them in the past.
Buffy was going to miss Faith. Despite there being thousands of Slayers across the planet now, Faith was the only one who knew what it was like to be utterly unique, well almost anyway. That had created a connection between them that Buffy had spent too many years trying to deny.
They’d become even closer over the last fortnight, their experiences and chats in Los Angeles helping develop an intimacy between them that had never existed before. And since she’d finally let Spike into her heart, Buffy actually got Faith. She wore her tough shell to protect a vulnerable interior in the same way that Spike always had. But in L.A., Buffy had seen glimpses of that vulnerability. Faith was no different than anyone else; she wanted friendship, love and the chance to be valued for who she was. Buffy thought her friend deserved to experience all three and hoped she got the chance to in L.A.
But not only was she going to miss Faith, she also envied her a little bit. Setting up a squad of her own and heading off on a whole new, action packed adventure sounded pretty cool. Especially as she was pretty much stay-at-home Buffy at the moment.
By Monday, Ashdown would be cleared out for the most part. Most of the Sunnydale Slayers, or Legionettes as they’d taken to calling themselves, after Andrew’s coining of the Legion of the Light, were heading out in the Recruitment teams. So too were most of the younger Watcher types, including Wood and even Andrew!
Even Dawn was off on a mission, flying out to L.A. with Faith’s squad, just for a week, so that she could pinpoint the local girl’s names and locations. From this distance all she and Althanea could pick up were numbers and rough distribution, they needed to be closer to pick up the exact location and utilize the satellite and CCTV programs for actual identification purposes. While she was there, Dawn would attempt to ‘scan’ the whole Western half of the States, compiling a detailed list for Faith and her team to work through over the next few weeks.
Buffy sighed and settled back to work. She might be a smidge bored, but at least she had Spike and she was safe. That counted for something.