Title: A Slayer Born, Part 3
Fandom: BtVS/AtS
Pairing: Angel/Buffy!Wesley, mention of other characters
Rating: NC-17 (with the porn-y goodness)
Summary: Buffy!Wesley confronts the Watcher's Council, and a group of Slayers, while adjusting to the sharing of one body.
Disclaimer: I think we all know I own none of this, except maybe the insanity of it all.
Part 1 Part 2 Wesley wasn’t surprised when the summons came, requesting that Buffy report to Watcher headquarters, not after the night he’d spent with Faith and the younger slayers. They’d talked about it briefly on the walk home, that the girls would talk and their secret was soon to be less secretive.
He let Faith help him dress, looking for a cross between Buffy’s classic style and something Wesley would be more comfortable in. Now, he paced in the living room, trying to make a decision about what should be said, how much he should reveal. Willow and Xander were preparing to head to Heathrow to pick up Dawn who was returning from Greece.
“Wesley, relax.” Faith said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “B never answered to them, no reason you should start.”
Wesley smiled. “Buffy was a bit…rebellious, yes. I am, however, a Watcher.”
“Were.” Faith said, standing face to face with him. “Were a Watcher. They fired you, Wes…and then there’s the whole Slayer’s body thing.”
Wesley recoiled from her words, though he knew they were fair. “Faith, baby…is that really helpful?” Willow asked, pulling Faith into an embrace. “Wesley, do you want one of us to go with you?”
Wesley shook his head. “No, Willow. Dawn will need you. I’ll see to this. I’ll be fine.”
He reached for his coat. “At least the rain has stopped.”
“For the moment. This is London.” Xander said, holding the door.
Wesley offered him a smile before passing through the door and heading down the stairs. He was not confident about this. Not in the least. He sidestepped a rather large puddle at the bottom of the stairs, glancing aside, and starting when Buffy looked back at him from the surface. He stopped and looked down at her. “What?”
“We should be going with Willow to get Dawn.”
“I agree. However, we can’t put this off indefinitely. The council must be told something.”
“And what about Dawnie?”
Wesley made a face at her and she echoed it. “It may come as a surprise to you, but I’m a little nervous about Dawn.”
“You sure weren’t nervous last night.”
“That’s not fair.” Wesley crossed his arms.
“No, it isn’t…wasn’t…ugh.”
Wesley pressed his lips together, and looked around him to be sure he wasn’t being watched. “Buffy. I…this is most awkward.”
“I’ll say.”
“I love him.”
“I know.” Her eyes met his. “I mean, I know…in a way that is both undeniable and not quite believable.” He got the distinct impression that if she were in a separate body she would be pacing. “It’s…weird…”
“Indeed.” He took a deep breath. “It is also very different from what I had when I was in Angel’s body. I keep waiting for you to exert yourself, push me to the background, and you don’t.”
“What do you know about what happened in Sunnydale, Wes?”
“Only what Willow told us.”
“When it was over, I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep. But it wasn’t over. It isn’t ever over.”
“No, it isn’t. I understand Buffy.”
“Do you? I mean…can you?”
“Aside from the fact that we’re sharing this body, yes. I was ready for it to be over as well. I let go. I embraced it. Someone else decided for me that I wasn’t done.”
“Illyria.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know if I can face them, Wes.”
He looked down at his reflection, and wiped at the tears he could see in her eyes. “They love you.”
“I know. But I gave up on them.”
“No. You were seriously injured, in spiritual ways as well as the physical and emotional. You are still here.”
She smiled then. “Yeah. Which brings us back to last night.”
He shook his head and turned. “We’ll be late.”
Council Headquarters had changed a lot since Wesley had last been inside them. Of course, the whole explosion thing was the major cause of the changes, but the heavily polished wood paneling had been replaced with large plate glass windows and cubicles. Large private offices were no longer private spaces for clandestine meetings. He presented himself at the front desk, and was directed to wait for an escort up to the offices of a senior watcher.
He wandered the small lobby, looking at pictures of young girls, faraway places, and artwork that he wasn’t sure he’d ever understand. A door opened and a young woman appeared, maybe 18 or 19, petite, but all business. “I’m Liza. You must be Buffy.”
Wesley attempted to smile as he crossed the room to shake her hand, but he was not comfortable and it probably showed on his face. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs.”
The long skirt of her suit moved noisily against her legs as she scanned her badge and opened the door, and he followed silently to the elevator. “So, I expected you to be bigger or something.” Liza said. “After all the stories.”
“I’m…just me.” Wesley said, trying to make his voice as American as possible.
“So what happened?”
“I’m sorry? What do you mean?”
Liza rolled her eyes. “Last I heard you were asleep, never to wake again.”
“I got bored.”
She nodded as if that made sense and prodded him out of the elevator as the doors opened. This floor was more of what he was accustomed to, with large conference rooms and offices with actual walls. “They’re waiting for you.” She held open a door and after only a moments hesitation, Wesley walked through.
Three men and one woman sat in the office that looked a lot like his father’s old office. As one, they stood, turning to great him-her…he had to remember they expected him to be her, to be Buffy. Not trusting him to speak first, Wesley stopped just inside the door and nodded in greeting.
“Buffy!” Wesley felt himself embraced from behind and whirled, knocking a young, blond man into the wall.
Nonplussed, he picked himself up, brushing at his oversized suit with mild disdain. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
Wesley tried to place the face, then heard Buffy’s voice in his head. “Andrew?”
The young man smiled and craned his neck. “See, me and the Slayer go way back.”
“If you are done with your display, Andrew…”
“Sorry, Mr. Avery. I’m done.”
“Good. Ms. Summers, welcome to the new Watcher’s Council headquarters.”
Wesley turned to the speaker, recognizing him from his old days at the council. “Marcus Avery.”
He seemed surprised, but nodded and gestured to an empty chair. “I see your friends have filled you in.”
Wesley took the chair, making what he hoped was a non-committal gesture. “Why am I here?” He crossed his arms and his legs, trying to mimic the attitude and its outward expression that he remembered getting from Buffy when they’d first met.
“You are still a Slayer,” the woman said.
Margaret Darian. She had been in the class behind him at the academy. She was a stickler for the rules and probably would have been the watcher sent to Sunnydale if his father hadn’t pulled some strings. “You have plenty of Slayers.”
“We have some questions.”
Wesley turned to the speaker. He didn’t recognize him. “I’m sure that you do. I’m not sure I’m the one to give you answers.” He looked at the other face, not surprised to find he didn’t know that one either. He’d been away from the council for a long time.
“Someone needs to. We have surveillance video of Willow and Faith wheeling a gurney into the dungeon, with you strapped to it, then video of you and Faith, Willow and Angelus leaving the dungeon.” Margaret crossed her arms and stared at him.
“Angel. Though I suppose, technically, Angelus left that dungeon too…he was just in a bottle.” Wesley chewed on his lip while he thought about it. “Look, I don’t know much before I woke up. There was magic, there was a strange floaty feeling and there was me, waking up.”
“And what of Wyndham-Pryce?”
Wesley sighed. He hadn’t figured out what to tell them. He didn’t know if he wanted to go through what they’d gone through when the Watcher’s council had first figured out what had happened, and that had been with Giles in charge. “What of him?”
“Last we knew, he was inside the same body. We’ve had the former vampire examined. He isn’t there.”
Wesley closed his eyes. “No, he isn’t.”
“What did the witch do with him?”
“Maybe she finally let him go.” He said it softly, not caring if they heard or understood. “His body died in LA five years ago. Shouldn’t the rest of him be allowed to follow?”
That thought seemed to ruffle them and Wesley smirked behind a hand as Avery bristled at the thought. “Maybe she should have informed us what she was up to. Wesley was one of us, a Watcher.”
Wesley sighed. “No, he wasn’t…not really. He was fired, as I recall. Just like Giles. He hadn’t been one of you for years.” Emotion pushed more of his accent into Buffy’s voice and Avery’s eyes twitched.
“Mr. Giles came back to the fold, Ms. Summers. We had hope for Wesley as well.”
He tilted his head and considered that. “Giles left Angel and Wesley and the others to die. Invoking his name on this subject may not get you anywhere.”
“In the end, Mr. Giles supported your decision to go to them.” Margaret said, crossing her arms and narrowing dark blue eyes in his direction. “He was devastated by what happened.
Wesley felt a twinge of guilt for the anger he was feeling. Had he been in Giles’ shoes he likely would have left them out in the cold after the whole Wolfram and Hart thing too…and Giles had tried to help them. It didn’t help that Buffy was conflicted by the whole thing. Her last words with Giles had been angry, and she had stormed out, headed for LA and Angel.
“Look, Willow was trying to save all of us. The strain of containing the three distinct people was tearing Angel’s body apart. I was not really using mine. She’d hoped she could even things out. She wasn’t sure she could pull it off.”
“Do I understand that the goal was to put Wesley’s consciousness into you?” Avery asked and Wesley’s eyes flashed his way.
“You’d have to ask her. Like I said, I don’t remember much.” Buffy was stirring inside him. She was upset, restless. Wesley understood the feeling. He shook his head. “Like it or not, I’m awake, I’m still not big on being told what to do. You guys may be Giles chosen successors, but that doesn’t mean I answer to you.”
“We understand that you went out with some of the slayers the other night.” The speaker was the older, dark haired man on Wesley’s right.
“It’s what I do.” Wesley heard himself say, but he wasn’t sure if it was him or Buffy who’d said it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“James Everbit, Ms. Summers.”
Wesley nodded. Everbit, assigned to the potential slayers out of Johannesburg last he had heard. He would have survived the decimation of the council simply by not being where he was supposed to be…and probably was making up for it now by towing the old party line. “I am still a Slayer, as Ms. Darian pointed out.”
“No one is questioning that,” the tall one in the black t-shirt said, standing up. He was American, and fairly young. “Stewart…Stewart Haligan.” He offered when Wesley looked his way. “My colleagues are concerned that five years have passed since you were last on the streets. Five years that you were laying in a hospital.”
Wesley stood to meet him, his eyes only coming to the man’s chin. He lifted his eyes until they met his. “I remember. I was there.”
“It wasn’t a challenge.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Please Ms. Summers, sit down. Let us talk about this reasonably.”
Wesley smiled. “I don’t see what there is to talk about.”
“We would like to have you checked over by our doctors.” Haligan said.
“And there’s a matter of testing your strength and ability.” Everbit added.
Wesley’s mind was filled with images and feelings that he didn’t recognize…Giles and some needle, helplessness, betrayal, fear, Glory and Dawn and Travers. His head was shaking out a numb denial. “No. I’m not going through that again.”
“Ms. Summ-“
He whirled around, green eyes flashing. “I said no.”
“People, please.” Andrew inserted himself between Wesley and Haligan. “This isn’t productive. Obviously, Ms. Summers has some catching up to do, and no one is suggesting that you do anything you don’t want to.” He pushed insistently at Haligan’s chest until he backed off a step. “Perhaps what is needed is some personal attention from a highly placed Watcher such as myself.”
“Andrew, get your hand off of me.” This time Wesley was certain he hadn’t spoken. Andrew’s hand flew from where it had been holding Buffy’s arm.
“Sorry.”
In the silence that followed, Wesley took a deep breath. He could still feel surging emotions that were both his and Buffy’s and it was disorienting. “Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea…at least not yet. I need some time to get acclimated, get my feet under me. I know Giles wanted to make this work…but I’m not ready.”
The room was quiet until finally Avery cleared his throat. “Well, someone should at least go see Roger Wyndham-Pryce. He deserves to know what has happened to his son.”
Buffy’s eyes snapped up to the Watcher’s. “I’ll go. He should hear it from me, considering.”
Avery nodded and the tension in the room seemed to settle. “Ms. Summers, I hope you’ll reconsider.” Haligan held out his hand. Wesley stared at it for a minute before extending his hand to shake it.
“I’ll think about it.”
He turned and moved swiftly for the door, almost unaware of Andrew scurrying after him. “Buffy! Wait!”
He stopped at the elevator and turned, giving Andrew a long look. “Bathroom?”
Andrew stopped cold and looked at him like he was crazy. “Beg pardon?”
Wesley sighed, or rather Buffy did and it came out of his mouth. “Andrew, where is the bathroom?”
“Oh! Oh. Of course. Right this way, Slayer.”
Wesley followed as Andrew led them away from the elevators and around a corner before pointing to a door with a stylized woman on it. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Wesley checked the bathroom to make sure he was alone, then turned to face the mirror, searching it for signs of Buffy. “What was that?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know,” came the response. “I was angry.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Wesley chuckled a little at the memory. “It was very strange. Your words coming out of my mouth.”
She crossed her arms, her face showing some of the anger he’d felt earlier. “It was my mouth first.”
“No, that isn’t what I meant.” Wesley felt himself biting his lip and noticed Buffy was as well. “I don’t bite my lip.”
“I do.” She seemed to lean forward, squinting at him. “You look more like me too.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Something around the eyes.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Buffy.”
“Like any of this does, Wesley,” she responded.
“Can I ask why you volunteered us to go speak with my father?” Wesley asked and it was his turn to cross his arms.
“Are you really going to let everyone think you’re me and that you’re dead?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t either…know why I said that. I guess I thought…well, he should be told something.”
“Buffy? You okay in there?”
“Yeah Andrew. Don’t you have something to do?” Wesley looked up at his reflection as once again Buffy spoke through him.
“I was told to keep you company.”
“Go away Andrew. You’re not coming home with me.”
“But-“
“Andrew!” Buffy’s voice was filled with an annoyance Wesley remembered well, and he was glad it wasn’t aimed at him.
“Right. I’ll just catch up with you later.”
Wesley leaned on the sink and shook his head. “This is exhausting.”
“Its just Andrew…its hard to have him around.”
Wesley shook his head. “No, not him. Being you.”
Buffy chuckled. “Did you expect it to be easy?”
“I didn’t expect anything Buffy.” Wesley said, straightening up and washing his hands. He sighed and looked into her eyes. “We should head for home. Willow should be getting home soon with your sister.”
Andrew was nowhere to be seen as he emerged from the bathroom and made his way to the elevators. It took him a minute to find his way from the banks of elevators to the lobby once on the ground floor, and as he entered the lobby he wondered if Andrew’s company might have been easier.
The lobby was filled with girls, twenty or more. Some as young as 12 or 13, some as much as 18 or 19. They all turned as he stepped out the door. The wonder on their faces was overwhelming. Two steps into the lobby and he was surrounded. He raised a hand and offered a smile. “Hey.”
The room erupted in noise as they asked questions and offered names and in seconds Wesley was spinning. Finally he held up his hands for silence. Eventually he got it and the girls backed off a step.
“I appreciate the…ah, attention, ladies. I promise, there will be time for all of us to get to know one another, but for now-“
“Buffy?”
Wesley nearly fainted with relief as Angel’s voice cut through to him and Angel himself appeared, making his way through the crowd of young woman to his side. “There you are.”
Wesley took Angel’s arm, hugging it close to him. “Get me out of here,” he whispered fiercely and Angel nodded.
The crowd parted for them and Angel walked them to the door, and outside. Overhead thunder rumbled, big drops slapping the ground as they moved away from the watching eyes of the slayers as they rushed to the windows to watch.
Wesley was shaking as Angel drew him aside into an alley less than a block later. “Hey, hey…you okay?” Angel’s hands caressed his face, his kiss gentle on Wesley’s forehead.
“I don’t know.” Wesley closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “It was all so…” He reached up for Angel, his fingers sliding through his hair, drawing his face closer to kiss him. Emotion surged through him, fueling an urgency in his kiss, their kiss…almost as if the two of them had merged, sharing sensation, sharing wordless thoughts…pulling Angel deeper into the alley, into the shadows.
Angel broke the kiss breathlessly, following with tiny kisses. “Kinda need to breathe,” he whispered. Hands moved over his back, up into his hair. His fingers stroked Buffy’s skin, uncertain whether it was Wesley or Buffy, and not really caring beyond the fire in his veins as those lips and tongue captured his again. His body thrummed with desire as those familiar hands roamed down to his waist.
“Want you.”
Angel pulled back enough to search out the green eyes, looking for some sense of what was happening. Hands on his ass, lips on his neck…desperate, hungry…”Buffy?”
He was hard, his pants tightening as her hand slid over him, palming him lightly. The were both panting now and Angel spared a glance toward the street. “Wesley?”
His hand was moved from her waist, up under the skirt, pressed against damp panties as those green eyes searched his out, and Angel could see them both there. “Want you now.”
She left his hand there, rubbing against her as she rocked on it, reaching for his fly and teasing out his cock. He slipped one finger under the panties, sliding it along her slickness until she moaned and in a single move had leaped up, holding herself with strong legs around his body and an arm over his shoulder as the other positioned his cock.
Angel’s eyes closed as he held her panties aside and she slid down onto him, taking him completely inside her before kissing him yet again. “Angel.” The word had only a hint of Wesley’s accent. Angel opened his eyes to watch Buffy’s body pull up his cock and then push back down. “More.”
They stumbled backwards until Buffy’s back was against the wall of the building and Angel took control of their movement, setting his hands under her ass to support her and rocking into her. Her head was tossed back and she groaned as his up stroke pushed her into the brick behind her. “Faster.” Her eyes came down to meet his and held there, locked as he angled himself in a position to oblige.
The heat of her was intense, more than he could remember, the firm, wet grip driving him quickly toward orgasm. The hands that held his shoulders, the grip of legs around him were Buffy’s…but that face, that expression as their bodies collided was completely Wesley. It was confusing…it was hot….and Angel wasn’t going to last long with those lips kissing him that way…like both Wesley and Buffy were fighting for possession of his mouth…
Her hands on his shoulders hurt as she came, moaning loudly. Her fingers dug into his skin until he too was coming, spurred on by the squeezing of her body around him and the pain she inflicted. He thrust upward hard and deep, pinning her…him…them.
For a long moment they didn’t move, breathing heavily as Angel softened and slowly slipped from her. Legs unleashed him and sought the ground. Clothes were straightened, zippered…then he laughed and shook his head. “You need to come with a warning label.” Angel said, slipping an arm around her.
“I came just fine without one.”
“Now, that was Buffy.”
She ducked her head. “Sorry for the intense. Things are…strange today.”
“As opposed to what?”
She looked up at him, smiling, though the expression still seemed sad. “Something’s happening in here. Wesley and I…its…”
“Like you were both there.”
She nodded. “We were. Thus with the intense.”
“Should we…can we do…something?”
She shrugged. “I-I’m not ready, Angel. I don’t know if I can…and now Wesley is ignoring me.”
“What?” Angel looked at her strangely.
“Nevermind. He thinks I should…deal.”
“Willow and Xander are home with Dawn, that’s why I came to get you.”
“Which is why he’s being all avoidy.” She shook her head and set them walking back toward the road. “Was it like this with you? When he was in you, I mean.”
It was Angel’s turn to shrug. “It was…difficult. But he was, the easier one to deal with.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of that.” At the opening of the alley she paused, squinting into the late afternoon gloom. “We should go home. I’m tired.”
Angel nodded and turned them toward Willow’s apartment. Buffy leaned into him and was quiet. As they came to the last turn, Angel stopped them and leaned down to her ear. “I love you, you know.”
She smiled and touched his face, then the look faded, her eyes going dark. When she blinked, Angel could tell he was now looking at Wesley. Wesley kissed him lightly and whispered in his ear, “We love you too, you know.”
He looked up at the window, lit against the gloom of the stormy afternoon. “God I’m tired Angel. I don’t know if I can handle this.”
“She’s family, Wes.”
“Family.” Wesley didn’t have the best references for that word. Angel was all the family he needed anymore.
“Come on. I’ll protect you.”
Wesley nodded and hugged Buffy’s body. She’d gone quiet, withdrawing deep within again. With her had gone a lot of the emotion that had been driving him. He wanted to sleep for days. But he couldn’t, not before facing Dawn. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He could handle this. He was a Slayer after all, born to handle the forces of darkness. How hard could one little sister be?