RATING: NC17, for sex
SUMMARY: New Year's Eve. Giles has moved on from the events of Los Angeles, but the past has a way of sneaking up on him...
Story begins here.
DISCLAIMER: The characters are Joss’, of course, and the chapter title comes from The Doors’ song, “LA Woman.”
PREVIOUSLY ON BUFFY: Ethan’s confetti has infected both Giles and Lydia, leaving Giles with the vampire organizing the New Year’s attack and Lydia confessing to Wesley that she was meeting with Ethan on the sly…
It was not a name Wesley had ever thought to hear from Lydia’s lips. Few within the Council were even aware of Ethan Rayne’s existence, and when Rupert had returned from California with proof of the Slayer’s death, exhaustive searches on the part of the coven had found nothing in regards to the fake Watcher. It was the Council’s belief that he had died before Giles had discovered his involvement; otherwise, his reports would have contained details on how Rayne had been defeated as well.
Yet, here was Lydia, claiming to have met with the mage more than once in the past few weeks. Logic dictated that it couldn’t be the same person, but the few details she’d already divulged seemed to point straight to the Rayne Wesley had seen in Cleveland.
She was oblivious to his reaction to the name. Slipping her hand inside his jacket, Lydia returned to stroking his torso through his shirt, still apparently hungering to continue the seduction she’d started with her arrival. “The things he knows…” she murmured. “His powers really are amazing. He gave me a demonstration when we first met. It made me tingle all over.”
Her touch was distracting him, and Wesley had the distinct feeling that now was not a time to be distracted. Gripping her shoulders, he put her at arms’ length again, hoping that the lack of proximity would squelch whatever desires seemed to be coursing through her system. “What kind of demonstration?” he asked. “Why were you meeting with him in the first place?”
Her gaze was sulky. “I told you. I wanted to use him for Council business. It didn’t start out that way, of course, but once I saw what he was capable of---.”
“How did it start out? Did Mr. Travers send you to meet with him?”
Lydia laughed. “You must be joking. Ethan is far too forward-thinking for Mr. Travers.”
“So, how did you meet him then?”
“Purely by accident. I saved him from a vampire attack. He was so grateful that he insisted that he take me out for dinner.”
Frankly, Wesley couldn’t believe she’d fallen for it. Lydia was a librarian; her field experience had been exactly nil before he’d pulled some strings to let her try it. There was no way she could’ve saved a man as powerful as she claimed Ethan to be from a vampire, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t see the holes in that logic. That, in and of itself, lent credence to this being the real Ethan Rayne. He was a master at manipulation. Wesley had experienced that firsthand.
“And you continued to see him for Council purposes?” he asked cagily.
“Unofficially.” She sighed in exasperation. “I’ve already told you he’s not a threat to us,” she said, her voice just loud enough to grate. “Why are you insisting on discussing this?”
“I’m not.” He needed to find Rupert, now more than ever. If Rayne was alive and in England, that cast the shadow of doubt on everything that had transpired in California. But why would Giles lie? Or had Rayne duped them all?
His gaze searched the square behind her. The wind had slowed, and it looked as if the only confetti that still lingered in the air was that which had already fallen. If he covered his head and stayed close to the buildings, he could venture out to find Rupert in relative safety. He could only hope that he wasn’t too late.
“I want you to get a taxi,” Wesley said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Get out of here and wait for me back at Council Headquarters.”
“You’re mad if you think I’m going to find one here now,” Lydia replied indignantly. “Do you have any idea how congested the city is? It’s why I was late.”
“Then take the tube. I don’t care how you get out of here, but I don’t want you to stay if I can’t keep an eye on you. It’s not safe.”
“I’m hardly a child---.”
“No, but you’re under the magical effects of the confetti, and there’s no telling what else will happen. I have to find Rupert, and I can’t do it if I have to keep you from accosting every male who happens to walk by.”
She took the money he thrust into her hand with a pout. “I don’t see why I can’t come with you.”
“Stop arguing with me about this.” His tone was harsh, but his patience was growing thin. “As your superior, I’m ordering you to return to Council Headquarters, Lydia. If you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to issue a formal reprimand.”
He didn’t pull his rank on her very often, but every time he did, he got the same reaction. Now was no exception.
Pulling herself straight, Lydia lifted her chin as she stepped back onto the walk. “Far be it for me to impair your mission,” she said. Her hands disappeared into her pockets, along with the money he’d given her. “I wish you all the luck, sir. And if you should happen to fall onto your own stake again…good.”
The crowd swallowed her up before Wesley could stop her. He had the sudden feeling that he’d done exactly the wrong thing in sending her away.
If he hadn’t been so anxious about finding Rupert, Ethan would’ve been gloating over the scads of couples he saw going at it as he hurried through the square. Bodies conjoined in pairings oblivious to convention, skin exposed to the elements with little care to comfort. He even saw two young women stretched out on one of the benches in an awkward sixty-nine; he stopped to watch them with a hardening cock for a solid three minutes before remembering his purpose.
Ethan knew it was a losing proposition to try and locate a single person within the crowds using normal methods. Mumbling a quick incantation, he felt his tattoo tingle for a brief moment as the magic took hold. Like would call to like, and even though it had been years since he and Rupert had shared anything remotely personal, it would be impossible for the call to be ignored.
He almost sighed in pleasure when the direction solidified. There, toward Charing Cross. Rupert was there.
His step was quick as he hurried through the crowds. Confetti still hung in the air, remnants from the ground whipped ruthlessly by the wind, and more than once, some managed to cling to his lashes. He wiped it away in annoyance, but Ethan was oblivious to its effects. His spell, his rules, after all. It would hardly do to fall prey to his own magic. If he’d known Rupert was going to accompany the others on their grandstand defense of London’s tawdriest celebrations, he would’ve ensured to protect him as well. But hindsight was always twenty-twenty. Best to just find his old friend and get him to safety before Rupert became one of the vampires’ victims as well.
When he felt the hand on his arm, he didn’t think anything of it, shrugging it off just as he had so many other touches to his person in his search. It was only when he heard her voice that he hesitated, turning to see Lydia gazing at him in disbelief.
“You’re here.” She wasn’t wearing her glasses; Ethan realized he’d never seen her without them out of bed before. “Do you know what you’ve put me through tonight?”
A single brow lifted in amusement. “Considering I haven’t seen you in three days, I’d say that’s rather remarkable of me, don’t you think?”
She slapped at his chest, though he was quick to note the way her fingers lingered where they touched him. “We had an appointment to meet, or did you forget? You must’ve, because I went through hell trying to make my meeting with Wes---.” Her eyes widened. “Wesley! I know he was just humoring me when I told him about you. He did that thing with his mouth---.”
“Wait.” Her words were a whirlwind. “You told Wesley? I thought we’d agreed nobody needed to know about us, Lydia.”
But he missed her continued explanations, worry taking root at what exactly she’d done. Ethan had chosen Lydia specifically because of her romantic relationship with Wyndam-Pryce; he was ready to take any opportunity to make the prat pay for Cleveland. They had established early, however, that Wesley would never learn of their affair. Jutta’s Ring protected Ethan from being found, but it didn’t stop anyone from learning that the truth of his existence. It would be difficult for the Watcher to find him, but not impossible, especially if he had reason to believe that he was still alive.
Something would have to be done.
“…so worried about Rupert, which is ridiculous because if Rupert could handle William the Bloody then he can certainly hold his own with a few lesser vampires,” Lydia said. “I mean, really, don’t you think that’s just a bit extreme?”
“Yes, quite,” he murmured, though he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Taking her by the wrist, he led her away from the worst of the clustered people, stopping in a nook by the Burger King on the corner.
“It’s not as if any of these vampires have likely even killed a Slayer before,” she went on, blind to his distraction. “William the Bloody killed four, and Rupert still walked away.”
It was the word Slayer that made him stop. Though his daily life was filled with plots and schemes to make the Council pay for what they’d done to destroy his life, Ethan very rarely gave specific thought to the how of it. It was simpler not to think of Buffy at all, to see what had happened as a personal affront rather than the mass destruction of what he’d held so dear.
But hearing discussion of all of this, casual as it was…this was new fodder to contemplate. Rupert handling a vampire notorious for killing Slayers? Ethan’s curiosity was piqued. It was just too similar to what had transpired in Los Angeles.
“And just who are these men?” he asked, forcing the nonchalant tone in his voice. “William and…Rupert did you say?”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Rupert’s just another Watcher, but you’ve heard me talk about William before.” She waited expectantly, but when he didn’t respond, she sighed. “I did my thesis on him? Killed his victims with the railroad spikes?”
That was more than familiar. He could still hear Buffy’s voice calling out to the vampire at Wolfram and Hart, could see the man’s face just before he’d knocked Ethan out. “Spike?” he queried. “Did you say he killed…four Slayers?”
“Yes. The most recent was just last a few months ago.”
She wasn’t even trying to pretend not to touch him any more, her hands slipping beneath his jacket to slide beneath his waistband. Though he’d enjoyed Lydia’s appeal more than once, any temptation she’d offered was long gone, her usefulness wasted. She hadn’t even been able to warn Ethan that Rupert was going to be included in tonight’s debacle, and she’d already let it slip to one of the worst people possible that he existed. Spotting a vampire slinking about to pull aside a delectable young thing from the crowd, Ethan took Lydia by the hand and led her the few feet to the demon’s side.
“Here,” he said, thrusting her into the vampire’s arms. “Bon appetit.”
Ignoring her outcry, Ethan whirled on his heel and headed back in Rupert’s direction. Now it was more than wishing to save his old friend from the worst of the fray; now, he had questions that needed answers, and the warning that had been extended back in Los Angeles would have to be ignored. He would just have to make sure that Giles wasn’t in a position to follow through on his original threat.
Ethan smiled. It wasn’t often he got to top Ripper. This was turning into a merry Christmas after all.
Somewhere between biting into the full flesh of her breast and sliding a finger into her ass, Giles became aware that Jocelyn was a vampire.
He’d already decided her mouth was as delicious as the silk of her quim, tasting her and being tasted in so many turns that it was impossible to remember when he hadn’t had her in his arms. Exposing even more of her flawless skin for his pleasure was the next natural step, and he attacked it with teeth and tongue, silently pleased at the marks that lingered long after he’d moved on to the next fresh patch.
Maybe it was the way Jocelyn encouraged him, whispering wicked words into his ear with breath cooled by the wind. Maybe it was the way she clawed into his back, holding on to him as he fucked her ever faster. Maybe it was a little bit of everything, leading him to the only conclusion that made sense under the circumstances.
Giles didn’t really care.
All he wanted was to come, preferably as deep inside of her as possible.
“Naughty boy,” she hissed when his hands found her ass. “I’ll bet you want to fuck me there next, right? Bend me over and just slam it in? I’d love it, you know. There’s nothing like a thick cock buried in my ass to make me scream---.”
He cut her off with a kiss, the growl in his throat escaping while thoughts of her plush curves danced across his mind’s eye.
In spite of his tenure on the Hellmouth, he’d never been intimate with a vampire before. He’d caught Faith on more than one occasion doing a little more than staking her prey, but once she started dating Xander Harris, that had stopped. And the only other person he’d known to encourage a vampire’s attentions was the Slayer he tried every single day to forget.
There was no forgetting now. Images of Buffy Summers writhing beneath Spike filled his head, spurred Giles to fuck Jocelyn harder, deeper, letting his fingers scissor in and out of her ass at the same rhythm of his cock.
“Or maybe…” Jocelyn leaned in to whisper more intimately into his ear, chewing at the tender lobe with teeth that were still thankfully blunt. “…you’d rather I bend you over? I could just eat you up, Rupert, get you nice and wet right before I slide a long, hard---.”
He never heard the end of it. He came too hard to discern her individual words, his body shuddering from the force of shooting deep inside her pussy.
It took a long moment for his head to clear enough to remember the woman in his arms. In spite of his orgasm, Giles was still taut with desire, ready to continue as soon as this ebb was gone. The only thing that stopped him was the truth.
“You didn’t bite me,” he commented.
Her dark eyes flickered with amusement. “Is that a request?”
She was still moving beneath him, though he wasn’t entirely sure if the undulations he felt along his still-hard cock were caused by her internal or external muscles. “Hardly,” he said. “But---.”
Jocelyn kissed him to shut him up.
He started thrusting again without even realizing he was doing so, her slick depths still vise-tight, his own fluids dripping down his cock to coat his balls. When she raked her nails across his nape, he felt a distinct sting from the cold but didn’t stop, uncaring in spite of his earlier protestation of what was to come.
Through the fog of his euphoria, Giles heard Wesley’s strident cry grow nearer though it wasn’t enough to break his in-and-out rhythm. It was Jocelyn who tore away from their kisses, her head turning just in time to see the cross thrust into her face.
“I said, back!” Overlooking his associate’s less than proper attire, Wesley forced his way between them with his brandished cross, the stake poised in his other hand. “I am armed. I’m not afraid to use them.”
Snarling, Jocelyn disengaged so quickly from Giles that he stumbled forward, hitting his brow against the wall of the building. “You were the kid who tattled to the teacher when anyone but you was making out beneath the bleachers, weren’t you?” she hissed as she moved away. “Must suck to be you.”
“Are you all right, Rupert?” Wesley asked, ignoring her gibe.
“Oh, he’s more than all right,” Jocelyn said. Giles caught her eye as she continued to edge toward the mouth of the alley. “He’s going to be the second best thing to happen to me tonight.”
“Second best?” Giles couldn’t help the affront in his tone.
“Sorry, Rupert, but hey, rituals that change your unlife don’t happen every day, you know.” With a wag of her fingers and a sly grin, she disappeared into the night.
“It’s a good thing I found you when I did,” Wesley was saying. He was studiously looking everywhere but at Giles, waiting for him to compose his appearance. “This confetti is magically charged. It’s not safe for us to stay.”
“Really? And how on earth did you ever figure that out?” It was difficult to tuck his erection back into his jeans, but Giles did so, unwilling to be on display in front of the other Watcher any longer than necessary. Though his passions were temporarily quelled, he thought he could still catch up to Jocelyn if he could lose Wesley. He just had to do it quickly.
Giles came face-to-face with him blocking the alley. “We need to talk,” Wesley said, unsmiling. “About a man named Ethan Rayne.”
His last desire to pursue Jocelyn fled. Without a word, Giles allowed himself to be led back into the crowd, wondering just how Ethan had managed to mess up his and everybody else’s life this time.
To be concluded in Chapter 4: Our Casual Joys…</lj-cut<