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When he returned to hotel, he found a scribbled note from Cordelia, saying that she managed to book a small commercial, and she would be back at ten, asking him not to eat before she returned.

It was an easy promise to fulfill. While waiting, he also called back his flat, checking his answering machine remotely, as he hadn’t set up his cell phone to allow for roaming. Even with his new earning potential, international roaming charges was not something he could afford.

Getting another number for America while relying on the answering machine was easier.

However, a cellphone was nowhere near enough to solve his biggest issue. He hadn’t expected much from his trip to Los Angeles, a mere change of pace while he waited for Hermione’s return, but meeting Cordelia and Buffy had changed things considerably.

Even discounting the skill points, just for them, he was willing to suffer a flight that took twelve hours. They were just that amazing. However, the skill points made their continued contact a practical necessity.

He was being greedy, but he didn’t care.

He spent an hour looking for a place, and found out that while the rent was high, it wasn’t bad enough that he couldn’t handle. A quick check showed that he could easily afford a flat, and if he started fighting more regularly, he might even afford a house.

He would need to talk with Liam once he returned.

… which would happen sooner rather than later, because he got a message from Hermione, telling him that she had managed to get the weekend off, though her voice implied it had been a serious challenge.

He decided fly back. In London, he could have another fight, impress Liam, and see if he could set up another fight in Los Angeles, and after a couple of victories in America, he should be able to cultivate his contacts independent of Liam.

And, once he did, he would rent a house based on his projected income. The only challenge was the location. Los Angeles … or Sunnydale.

But that was decision for future him.

He sighed, amused at how his plans had changed. One of his aims in coming to America was to improve his boxing skill, but he had been planning to do so by visiting multiple cities and seeing if he could arrange a lot of fights without raising any suspicions, and after reaching Expert, start looking for vampires.

Yet, a meeting with Cordelia, leading to his fact-finding mission to Sunnydale … which he found more than he had expected. The encounter with the vampires had been nasty, but eventually, it worked well enough.

While waiting for Cordelia, he visited a library, checking the newspaper archives for suspicious deaths. He had already done that back in London, which, combined with Vampire Lore, gave him a better idea how to conduct his search.

This time, he was properly prepared, with three stakes, and holy water bottled and ready. He wouldn’t keep it in the trunk, difficult to reach in an emergency.

He might act like an idiot occasionally, but he wasn’t incapable of learning.

Once he had arrived at his destination region, he stepped by a rundown bar, and immediately saw a vampire, who had been watching a group of young girls. Nasty, he decided, and when the vampire had chose to follow them, he didn’t waste much time.

He merely approached the vampire from behind, his stake ready. A simple jab, and the vampire turned to dust.

The girls continued to walk, unaware.

“Huh, no points,” he muttered, surprised. But, thinking a bit, it made sense. He didn’t receive his points from killing, but from contests. An ambush was not a contest. To get points, he would have to challenge the vampires to a fight. As for stakes, it was obvious. His life.

At least, that was what he deduced based on his experience.

“Well, not worth the risk,” he muttered. Before his trip to Sunnydale, he had been doing his best to get points for his Boxing skill, but Buffy gave him a much better method than challenging vampires to fights where a mistake would have killed him, he didn’t need to do it.

It wasn’t that he planned to stop hunting vampires. He might not be a nice guy, but doing nothing when monsters that preyed on innocents, roaming the streets with impunity was too much.

He would have acted even without the System, though he was glad he wasn’t dealing with that particular issue.

He continued ambushing vampires, not caring about giving them a fair fight, or being honorable.

After all, it was merely pest control…

&&&

He was already back at the hotel, showered, and resting comfortably when the door opened, and Cordelia walked in. She had arrived an hour earlier than she had initially promised, and she looked very frustrated.

Somewhat of a contrast to his, as his trip had allowed him to kill four more vampires in total. Admittedly, they were mere fledglings, which was why it went that easily; but he suspected it had to do with the way he looked for them.

Only the fledglings would be careless enough to leave a trail that could be easily discovered by checking the obituaries and missing persons reports. Three of them didn’t even realize they were ambushed. One did, but with Expert boxing and with stake prepared, he handled him easily.

Unfortunately, it gave only three points. Better than nothing, but nowhere near the twenty-five he had gotten after club.

“Bad day?” he asked.

“What gave you that impression?” Cordelia lashed out, but he shrugged it easily. Frustration was easy to handle. He didn’t even bother to answer. He just poured her a drink while she took a seat, and then moved behind her, massaging her shoulders.

She didn’t say anything at first, determined to hold on to her anger, but his massage was not easily ignored. “I lost the job,” she said.

“How so?” he asked.

“I had already finished the makeup, and was waiting for the schedule, but at the last minute, the director decided to let one of his friends take my spot.” He continued massaging her shoulders. “No questions?”

“Well, I don’t know much about acting. But, I have tried to play football professionally, and favors and nepotism plays shockingly big role there. And, in football, it’s clear who can run faster and kick harder. I can’t even imagine how it works for acting.”

“Yeah, it’s much worse,” she said with a deep sigh. He could see that she wanted to talk about it more, but stopped at the last minute. He was tempted to say she would be alright, but he knew it would only backfire.

He didn’t know her for a long time, but he knew she wouldn’t react to platitudes well, whether they were sincere or not.

At the core, she was pretty similar to him, and he remembered how he had been feeling before the arrival of the system. Whenever someone tried to say something nice, he always took those as an attack, and retaliated sharply.

The fact that she was allowing him to give her a massage rather than creating a bogus fight or canceling was counted as significant progress. He suspected she would have been more aggressive if she hadn’t thought he was about to leave permanently.

“So, my trip to Santa Barbara was filled with surprises,” he said. “They scheduled a fight for the next week.”

“The next week,” she said, looking to him, her eyes wide.

“Yes,” he said. “I still need to fly to London, but I’ll fly back here after the weekend,” he said.

“You will?” she said.

“Yes. Once I return, I’ll stay at least for a week.”

“Good,” she said, perking up a little. Then, she shuffled. “I mean, it’s not like Los Angeles needs a two-bit boxer from London that doesn’t even know how much a gallon is, but…”

“At least we can count, unlike Americans…” he responded, and suddenly, the insults started to fly. It was fun, even if some of the insults were more biting than before, her frustration still infecting her attitude.

But, he let her. Acting irrationally when frustrated was the luxury of a beautiful woman, and Cordelia had a lot of credit in that aspect.

She didn’t even stop the insults when he removed her dress, or when he pressed her against the window.

Since it was dark, Los Angeles glittered behind glass in the ugly, expensive way. He had to admit; it contrasted with London just as a posh man from a family that had been rich and noble since the thirteenth century, and a lottery winner.

Rich and smug, but in very different ways. However, he suspected it wasn’t what Cordelia was thinking, hissing as she felt the cold window against her chest.

“You can’t be serious,” she whispered.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded as he let his bathrobe open. “Just as you said, I’m just a tourist who knows nothing about Los Angeles. Since you’re the expert, why don’t you tell me about the landmarks. What about that building?” he asked.

“If you think—“

“Or, you can just apologize,” he countered, giving her the easy way out. It was easy to be generous when he knew she would never accept it.

“Is this how you want to play?” she hissed, but her smile was finally back, so he counted that as a win.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded as he pushed her panties to the side and slid inside. She whimpered. “What’s wrong?” he asked mockingly.

“The glass is cold,” she said.

“I see,” he responded, his fingers finding her nipple. “It must be why your nipples are already hard.”

“Naturally,” she responded, somehow managing to keep her voice dry. “You don’t think I got aroused by a yokel from London that can’t even play soccer properly, right?”

She was vicious. He loved it. “Naturally,” he said as he grabbed her wrists and lifted her up so that her feet weren’t pressing on the floor even with her heels still on.

“You’re freakishly tall,” she complained. “Weren’t soccer players supposed to be tiny and weak?”

“Maybe that’s why I failed, Your Highness,” he teased her, spanking her with his empty hand even as he railed her hard against the window, though careful not to put too much weight. “But, you were supposed to be my guide. What’s that building?”

“I—“ she started, only to moan.

“Come on, girl,” he teased. “I know you’re not good enough to get the role, but you should be at least good enough to play the tour guide. Or, you’ll starve,” he teased.

Against anyone else, such an attack would have triggered a nasty fight followed by crying. Cordelia just tightened.

“Please. The day I take advice from a Brit too poor to even afford tweed, I stop being Cordelia Chase,” she responded.

“Good, then give me my tour,” he responded, still fucking her hard against the window, her feet not touching the ground.

To her credit, she managed to give somewhat of an explanation while the window creaked, interrupted by an explosive moan. The glass gave a faint, protesting shudder, and he stopped putting his weight, just watching her breath fogging the window.

Unfortunately, there was no reward, the cooldown was still on.

Even as he carried Cordelia’s trembling body, he couldn’t help but wonder about it. He hadn’t seen Cordelia for almost two days, which should be enough to refresh the system.

He realized that there was a chance that System’s cooldown was cumulative, then he remembered that he had received a reward from one of the vampires.

It must be cumulative for the same type of contest, he reasoned. Of course, it was merely a possibility, but he would have a chance to test it later.

Either way, as he trapped Cordelia under him, he had no intention of stopping just because the rewards ceased to arrive. He focused on her moans…

When she tried to flip him, he let her. Her trick was surprisingly effective. Without Acrobatics he got from her, she would have succeeded even if he tried to resist. He let her pin his hands against the headboard while she rode him.

“So, how was your trip?” she asked, her hips suddenly slowing down. “Tell me … in detail.”

Immediate payback. Excellent. “Well, the initial drive went smoothly…” he started, happy that she wanted to extend the play, because it gave him time to think what to say about his Sunnydale trip.

He could hide it completely, but eventually, it would be revealed. Naturally, he had no intention of revealing the full details either. The key thing was whether she would remember even telling about Sunnydale in the first place.

The best part, Buffy gave him the perfect way to conceal a critical part if needed.

She had been distracted when they talked about it.

He decided to hedge his bets. “… unfortunately, the rental car betrayed me a bit on my way back, and I had to seek help. Luckily, a truck was passing by me and helped me to the nearest city.”

“Which one?” she asked.

“Sunnydale,” he responded.

Naturally, she tensed, but she did her best to hide it. He would have missed if he hadn’t been looking for it. “Oh, was it good?”

“Nothing that impressive,” he said. “Certainly nothing that could match the excitement of Los Angeles.”

“How long did you stay?” she asked.

“Not much. I barely had time to find a guide, and treat her to lunch while my car got checked,” he said. Cordelia was sharp, and he didn’t want to give her the impression that what they had was exclusive. Risky, but safer than the alternative. “Though I spent some time in the car … thanking her.”

“Thanking her?” she countered, her tone immediately jealous, but fake, playful kind. “Should I be worried?”

“Only if you lack confidence while facing cute blondes,” he said.

“Cute blonde?” she asked, her voice tensed, in a way it didn’t when he had mentioned them having sex. “Does this cute blonde has a name?”

“Why?” he asked, acting surprised. However, he had a feeling that her mind immediately jumped to Buffy, who was one she had mentioned by name.

“I’m from Sunnydale as well,” she said, meaning she had forgotten she had mentioned the name, which was understandable. They followed up her initial mention with a mind-blowing thirty-hour sex marathon, and destroyed a vampire just before it. It was impossible to remember trivial details.

“What a coincidence,” he said, then made a show of thinking. He decided to stick to the convenient story Buffy had gifted him. When Cordelia had first mentioned Buffy, he had assumed their relationship was complicated even though he assumed Buffy was a boy. Learning Buffy was a sexy blonde that might be a rival of her back from high school, it needed to be played carefully.

Luckily, Buffy gave him a way to do it very safely. Even if it was revealed in the future, he would just blame her for giving him a fake name. “Her name was Anne. Either her last name or nickname is Parker, but not sure which? Any chance you know her?”

“No,” she responded. “I mean, Sunnydale is small, but not that small. I might have been the queen there, but I didn’t go around memorizing every peasant.”

“So, that’s the vampire-infested city you didn’t mention,” he said. “No wonder there are so many churches and cemeteries. Any idea why?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she said, focusing on the city rather than his personal encounter, confirming he had done the right thing. “Apparently, the whole city is built on top of some kind of dimensional rift to hell, so vampires love visiting the place.”

“I see,” he responded, then pulled his hand from her grip, and spanked her. “While I respect your privacy, the next time, I would love a warning about potential vampire … what’s the name of a group of vampires, murder?”

“Nest if it’s less than a dozen or so, coven if it’s larger,” she responded.

Just like witches, he thought as he flipped her, pushing her onto all fours, grabbing her hair hard once again, to ‘punish’ her. “Warn me about a potential coven the next time.”

After that, he ignored the temptation to question her further. It was too soon after the Sunnydale surprise, and he didn’t want her to think that he was using her for information.

Information, or even the system to a degree, was just a bonus…

Cordelia herself was the real reward.

&&&

[Boxing - Expert 34/1000

Tantric - Advanced 223/250

Soccer - Advanced 53/250 (Midfielder)

Acrobatics - Advanced 25/250

Wand Magic Theory - Advanced 25/250

Chess - Intermediate 74/100

Magical Combat - Intermediate 50/100

Darts - Intermediate 21/100

Vampire Lore - Intermediate 0/100

Poker - Basic 9/50]

As his plane landed, Sam couldn’t help but feel that the trip had surpassed even his wildest dreams. Well, except for his dreams of flying first class on his return trip, which he abandoned immediately when he realized the tickets cost more than ten thousand dollars, which was about seven thousand pounds.

He was rich, but that rich, especially since Tantric allowed him to deal with the discomfort easily.

And, here he was, thinking thirty thousand pounds made him a rich man. Though, in a way, he was. Without that horribly expensive ticket,he had made a profit of twenty-five thousand pounds on his trip.

The best part, money was the least important reward he had acquired.

His understanding of vampires had improved leaps and bounds, both in theory and in practice…

He made two new friends, who helped him to upgrade his skill panel in a way he hadn’t been planning. Acrobatics had been an unexpected yet extremely valuable reward, as mobility was rather important against monsters that could kill him with a hit, and he suspected it would be useful if he ever had to fight against the magicals, with most of them reliant on their wands to a degree.

Then, there was his boxing, which improved far more than he expected. A little bump would have been a treasure, yet thanks to finding another ‘main character’ he managed to carry it to the next stage.

Boxing, acrobatics, and tantric combined ensured that earning a living was no longer a concern. Hell, he was equipped enough to chase a real boxing career, the kind that earned a million dolllar for a Vegas fight kind.

Too bad he had learned too much about the world to try to chase the fame and fortune.

Unfortunate. Being a world-famous boxer would have been fun.

As he landed, however, his mind was on one thing: an organization whose name he finally knew.

The Watcher’s Council.

From the bits and pieces he was able to get from Buffy, he was certain that their headquarters was based in London, and from what he had previously learned from Wesley, he expected them to be mostly mundane; it should be possible to find.

The only challenge, how long it would take. London was not exactly a tiny village…

&&&

“… this can’t be,” he found himself muttering as he checked into a building in the middle of London, watching people going in and out. A building to which he arrived after spending two hours in the library.

He expected to spend weeks digging through the old newspapers and even older tomes just to get a hint of their location. Instead, all he had to do was type it on one of the computers, and it showed an address in London.

At the center of it.

One street behind the British Museum.

Naturally, when he found it, he assumed it was just an organization with the same name, so he took a quick trip. However, just from a distance, all he needed to see their members to confirm their true nature.

After he watched dozens of people wearing expensive suits, yet clearly trained in fighting, he stopped doubting.

He couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed as he walked away. He expected a long, complicated treasure hunt as he tried to find a secret organization.

But then, maybe his thinking was wrong. He found them, because he already knew their name and their importance. Even if they had measures to protect themselves, it probably worked reverse, layers and layers of excuses to give them a fake official purpose.

Most importantly, he had met with Wesley, and he did have that posh, blue-blooded aura. In a way, self-important weirdness was expected from posh people. If he had ever come across them without his extra knowledge, he would have just shrugged it off as another nonsense like fox hunting or their fancy balls.

They would have been even safer if they were away from civilization, hidden in a mountain … but their lives wouldn’t be as comfortable.

One couldn’t expect posh people to give up their daily comforts.

He didn’t try to make any contact. It was good enough that he knew of their general location, and he could reach them in case he found himself dealing with a real emergency.

Instead, he turned to his real problem.

His upcoming date with Hermione, and whether there was any chance he could convince her to add her roommate to the mix.