Part Four: Foundations.

In which foundations are laid for something better, explanations are given, and new faces arrive.
When Xander woke up he had no idea what time it was, nor where he was. This in itself was enough to pull him from his sleepy daze to alertness, and three things hit him at once.

One, he had been sleeping curled up with Spike, not Kel as he'd automatically assumed.

Two, he'd really, really liked it, if the tightness of his jeans was anything to go by.

And three, Kel was standing next to his bed, snapping his fingers to get Xander's attention.

Xander shook his head to clear it and pulled himself to a vaguely upright position, ignoring the sleepy protests of the vampire sprawled across his chest. Spike slid down until his face was pressed into Xander's side, and then settled himself more firmly against Xander's body before, too all appearances, he fell back into a deep sleep.

Kel snapped his fingers again, and Xander mentally blessed him for remembering the right way to handle Xander, just like he always did. One of Xander's biggest weaknesses was that he was slow to wake up when his sleep had been uneasy, and they'd long ago discovered that Xander reacted adversely to any sudden loud noises or unexpected touches when he wasn't fully awake. Kel had figured out a way to get him awake and paying attention without triggering any sort of violent response.

"Sorry," he said hoarsely, rubbing one hand over his scratchy jaw. "Tired. Nightmares."

A rude snort was essayed from behind Kel, and it was just then that Xander noticed Dawn, hovering over the shifter's shoulder. "That's what they all say," Dawn said, and Xander glared at her with enough genuine menace that she tactfully shut up.

"What's up?" Xander asked, deciding to ignore Dawn for as long as possible. He wasn't awake enough yet to deal with her. "You've got that look."

"Council of Watchers is gone, Potentials are on their way here, and Buffy's resurrection is the reason the First is acting now."

And just like that, Xander was completely awake. "Shit," he growled, and Dawn emitted a startled little squeak because it was a real growl, similar to the noise Spike made when irritated only more canine. "Fuck. Hell. This we do not need right now." He stared at Kel out of eyes with pupils that were suddenly too wide to be human. "Buffy caused the First to rise again?"

"She's died twice now, Xan. The Slayer line is split in three now. You know how it is with threes."

"Shit, yeah. The Council?"

"Agents of the first hit Headquarters while they were in session."

Xander gave him a look that was very close to panic. "Please tell me Blake was in the field."

"Yeah, he was. He's heading this way now." Xander closed his eyes- with relief, Dawn thought. "Don't worry about Blake. He always lands on his feet, you know that."

"Like a fucking cat," Xander said, and startled them both when he laughed. "Must be why you two never get along."

Kel showed his teeth. "Must be," he said amicably.

"Okay." He glanced down at Spike, who was showing no signs of waking up soon. "Right, we've gotta tell the others and deal, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do."

"Okay." Another stolen glance down at Spike. "Give me half an hour to get ready. Can you two call a meeting? Might as well tell everyone at once. And-" He stopped, raised one hand to rub at the furrow that had already formed between his eyebrows. Dawn wondered if it was there even when he slept. "Shit. I just- shit. Okay. Do you know when Blake will get here?"

"Anywhere from now till next week. I don't know where he is or how he's getting here, just that he's on his way."

"Okay. Then that's it for now, and I'll be ready in half an hour." When neither of them moved, Xander arched an eyebrow and said, "You can go now, you know."

Kel just shrugged, used to Xander's abrasiveness, but Dawn stuck her tongue out at him before she left the room. She made sure to shut the door on her way out though, figuring that if Xander was going to have sex with Spike or something, she so didn't want to hear it.

Well. Not if she couldn't see it, anyway.

What? They were both really hot.

"He really did have a nightmare last night," Kel said, breaking into her thoughts. She glanced over at him as they left the mansion and started down Crawford Street, heading for the center of town. He was pacing along with that slightly inhuman loping gate of his that she'd noticed the night before, his hands tucked into his pockets and his gaze focused rather intently on the pavement. "I mean, they didn't have sex last night, and Xander's always hazy like that when he has nightmares."

"How do you know they didn't have sex?" Dawn demanded, and he gave her a sideways condescending glance.

"Wolf shifter, remember? I could smell it."

"I was wondering about that!" she said. "Are you like, a werewolf or something? What's the difference?"

This time Kel's expression was closer to an outright sneer. "Comparing a shifter to a were is like comparing a human to a chimpanzee. We're so much more evolved. Weres have no control over their change, which isn't fully to a wolf at all, and they retain no human awareness when they are changed. They're fairly useless, all things considered. Better senses even as a human, but other than that they're not decent fighters, and they're completely useless three nights out of the month."

"Well, ex-cuse me." Dawn discovered that there was a side of Kel that was not easygoing at all, and though she wasn't sure she liked it, at least it gave him more depth than she'd previously ascribed to him. Any person- or shifter, or whatever- that didn't have some sort of hot button was either a robot or a monk, and a monk Kel was not.

Not if she was interpreting the signals right, anyway.

It was too soon to be sure. He wasn't making any sort of move, but if she was right, and she often was, then he was planning on it.

And that was just fine with her.

"Hey, we gotta get to Buffy's," he said, and she grinned at him.

"Race you there!" she yelled, and took off at a sprint. She had no doubt that he could catch her, but that wasn't the point. The point was the chase.

Any predator knows that the best part is the pursuit.

"So," Xander said after the pair was completely out of earshot. "I suppose you heard all that."

"You suppose right," Spike said, without opening his eyes. "I suppose this is the part where we get up and go talk ourselves to death?"

"You suppose right," Xander echoed, not without a smile. "The world is in peril, and we, my friend, are the only ones who-"

"Blah, blah, blah." Without warning, Spike rolled fluidly and pinned Xander underneath of him. He considered it another gift when Xander didn't tense up, just grinned up at him when Spike encircled his wrists with an iron grip that the vampire had no doubt the man could break.

"Oddly enough, this looks nothing like getting to the Magic Box," Xander said.

"I said I was listenin'. We've got half an hour, right? I can do a lot with half an hour." As if to prove it, he leaned down to scrape his teeth lightly over Xander's earlobe. Not a kiss, not yet, understanding on an instinctive level that a kiss to Xander meant so much more than fucking, and willing to wait.

Xander shivered at the contact, but otherwise didn't react. "Spike..." he said, and his voice was soft with some sort of warning and plea all rolled into one. Spike understood- didn't like it, but understood- and rolled off of him, flopping onto his back.

"Right," he said matter-of-factly. "Danger. Apocalypse. Fun."

Xander rolled up onto one elbow and looked down at Spike. "You aren't gonna argue?"

Was that disappointment? Heh, Spike would wear him down yet. "Nah," he said casually, then saw the look of confusion in Xander's eyes and relented. "Look," he began in a more serious tone. "I get it. There's bigger issues to deal with at the moment than our respective cocks, and believe it or not I am able to be patient when I need to. At the moment we have to go sort out the Slayer and the Scoobies and deal with the new crises. And that's fine." His expression became hard, intent. "But believe me, pet, sooner or later we will get down to it. I'm not finished with you. Don't see myself being finished with you for a long fucking time."

"No problem with that," Xander said, his expression a better mirror of Spike's expression than the empty piece of glass on the wall. Spike looked at his with surprised question- he'd expected some sort of protest, something- and Xander shook his head at him. "I don't have a lot of friends," he said. "I've never had a lover. I didn't think I even could love. And then you came sauntering right back into my life and suddenly everything is different. If you think I'm gonna back away from that, you're fucking kidding yourself."

"Good," Spike said. "You know that when I fall, I fall hard. And pet, the moment I saw you snarling at me in that graveyard, I fell." Pause. "I lo-"

Xander's hand snapped upwards and suddenly there were two fingers across his lips, silencing him. "Not now," Xander said. "Not during an apocalypse. After this is over, then you can say it." Pause. "After this is over, I can say it."

Spike nodded. He understood. And he didn't need to hear the words to know the truth.

"So," he said, deciding that the conversation was probably over and there were more pressing topics at hand. "Care to remind me where the shower is in this place?"

Once again, Xander stood in front of the Scoobies, Kel sitting as always comfortably at his feet. Looking over the scene from his usual ladder perch, Spike had a feeling of déjà vu that he just knew was going to be repeating itself over the coming weeks. Sweet girl, Buffy was, sometimes anyway, but a general she was not. And a general, Spike knew, was what would be needed to defeat the First in Sunnydale, the Devil's own playground.

Spike watched Xander, as the man concisely laid out the bare bones of Kel's latest vision. He watched Giles' shock at the knowledge that the Watcher's Council was all but destroyed, Willow's guilt and Buffy's shock at the knowledge that she was the cause of the First mobilizing now, and finally everyone's upset at the knowledge that very shortly, they were going to be housing and training as many Potentials as the remaining Watchers could get their hands on.

Buffy was the one who broke first. "What do you mean, I'm the one who caused the comeback of the First?"

Xander frowned, a little irritated since he'd thought he'd covered this, and answered her. "Not you. Your resurrection. You died twice, which has split the Slayer line twice. There are now three branches to that line, three Slayers. Three is one of the mystical numbers of power, which is why the First is only moving now, instead of back when the Master drowned you."

Most of them still looked baffled, so Xander sighed and explained further. "Some numbers are just naturally powerful, which is why they appear in myth and magic so often. Three, seven, and nine, as well as multiples of those numbers. All are mystically significant. It's why Hellbound are activated when we're twenty- we only live seven years after we get our power, and die when we're twenty seven, which is three thrice. See?"

"Okay," Buffy said. "I suppose that's not the important part. The important part is figuring out what to do next."

To a man (or woman, or vampire) everyone looked at Xander, who took a deep breath and sighed (with resignation, Spike guessed) and started talking.

"Faith is out of prison, and is currently working with the Angel Investigations team in LA. She, and they, are our reserve troops. If it comes down to it, and it probably will, there are some favors I can call in to get more people here to help.

"In less than seven days, we will have teenage girls from all over the globe pouring in. They will be looking for a safe place, and believe it or not, Sunnydale is the safest place there is for Potentials just now. Our job is to train them as best as we can, to prepare them for the danger that's to come."

"Who, precisely, is bringing the Potentials?" Giles asked.

"The first lot are being brought personally by my contact in the council. The rest will be sent here on their own, generally by bus or plane as most won't be old enough to drive."

"And who, precisely, is this contact you keep talking about?"

"Why Rupert," an accented voice said from the doorway. "That would be me."

Giles turned very slowly to face the door, where a tall, thin man was standing with two girls next to him. The setting sun was at his back, causing his face to fall in shadow, but the British accent and the sword belted at his waist marked him easily as a Watcher.

"Blake Ashford," Giles said dryly, clearly having no trouble recognizing the new arrival. "How unpleasant to see you again."