Then, he saw the huddled figures, Buffy lying on the sidewalk with her head in Anya’s lap, and his heart tried to stop. No, God, please no. Surely, I would know if she were dead. A Watcher knows if their Slayer dies.
Somehow, he got the car pulled over beside to the two girls and got out. Anya smiled at him shakily, but Buffy never moved. Kneeling, he placed trembling fingers on the pulse at her neck and almost collapsed himself from relief at feeling the steady beat of her heart
“I told you she was just unconscious,” Anya reminded him.
“Yes, quite. However, I wasn’t expecting her to look quite this unconscious.”
Buffy frowned and shifted, batting his hand away, and Giles smiled a little, reluctantly. “I think she’s just asleep at this point.”
“We need to get out of here,” Anya reminded him. “Before people come out and find us. Not to mention that.” She nodded at the head.
“True.”
He carefully lifted his Slayer and laid her on the back seat of the car as Anya scrambled to her feet.
Buffy was lighter than she should have been, Giles thought with a pang. She had definitely lost weight, and even in the dim light, he could see the circles under her eyes. She had been burning under the ferocity of her hunt, but now her body had caught up with her and demanded a halt. He would have to Watch her carefully. Nothing would be served if she defeated whoever was doing this but destroyed herself in the process.
As he drove Anya home, he questioned her more closely about the appearance of Spike and Ethan Rayne. She had given him a running commentary over the cell-phone, but Giles wanted additional detail.
“You never saw Spike clearly?”
“No. He stayed in the shadows until the wizard teleported him away.”
“And Ethan left by teleportation as well?”
“Uh-huh.”
Giles frowned. The whole thing was distinctly odd.
“Tell me about the trap that held Buffy.”
Anya blew out air. “It looked like something solid, like she was caught in a block of ice or something. She couldn’t move at all. When he got mad because she wouldn’t call me, the sides of the block started to come together.” She paused a moment, swallowed. “It was crushing her.”
He refused to dwell on the horror of that particular image. “How did he tighten it? Did he say anything?”
“No. I think he had something with him. A talisman or something. I could see a lot of magic right around him.”“But Buffy managed to break free of the trap.”
“Not all the way,” Anya corrected. “She went limp for a second. I thought she passed out. Then she started…glowing…and sort of dissolving the block. It would have taken awhile but she would definitely have gotten out.”
They reached Xander and Anya’s apartment building. Xander was outside, staring wildly up and down the street. As soon as he saw the car, he ran forward.
“Oops.” Anya said. “I thought he’d sleep longer than that.” She rolled down the window and called, “Everything’s all right, honey,” encouragingly.
“Where have you been? I thought something happened to you!” He caught side of Buffy in the back and swallowed. “Is she ok?”
“She’s fine. Anya will explain it to you.”
The ex-demon sighed and hopped out of the car. Giles drove away, hearing Xander’s voice through the open window. “We need to have a SERIOUS TALK!”
Thoughts were clamoring for attention in his mind, but he forced himself to focus on his driving and on keeping an eye out for occult creatures and/or traps until he reached Buffy’s house. He looked in the back seat at the Slayer.
“Buffy. We’re at your home. Can you walk?”
“Mm.”
He moved around to the back door and shook her gently until she staggered out of the car. He half-led, half-carried her to the house and used his key to open the front door.
Joyce and Dawn met him in the front hall.
“Buffy! Are you all right?”
“Sorry,” she slurred. “I’m sorry. I’ll find him. Stop him.”
“She needs to sleep,” Giles said. “She’ll be fine.” He hoped he was telling the truth.
He helped her up the stairs, the other two women following close behind, and eased her down onto her bed, where Buffy immediately dropped back into deep sleep. Joyce, tears glistening in her eyes, knelt and removed her daughter’s shoes then covered her with a blanket. Even Dawn reached out and gently stroked her sister’s hair.
At that moment, if Giles had possessed the ability, he would have stripped Buffy of her powers and any memory of being a Slayer and moved the whole family to somewhere like Nebraska where hopefully vampires couldn’t survive among all that corn.
Since that was impossible, he quietly left the house, determined to do what he could. He might not be able to defrock Buffy of Slayer powers, but he was going to find some way to help her, and God help anyone who stood in his way.
Back at his apartment, Giles focused his mind on the mundane task of making tea and doctoring it with a healthy serving of Scotch. Then, he settled on the couch, leaned his head against the back, and addressed his mind to the situation.
However, his mind ran into difficulties because the situation made absolutely no sense. Ethan and Spike had teamed up to kill people, seemingly in a challenge to Buffy. It was completely out of character for the wizard, who preferred to work from the shadows. Admittedly, Spike was doing the killing, but why challenge the Slayer in the first place? Buffy wasn’t trying to hunt him down. All he had to do to avoid her was to stay out of the Sunnydale area.
And why was Spike allowing himself to be used? From all that Giles had observed, the vampire wasn’t interested in taking orders from anyone. Was it some sort of repayment for removing the chip? Was Spike actually under Ethan’s control? The prospect of having to rescue Spike from Ethan, not to mention explaining it to Buffy, made him shudder.
And speaking of the chip, the assumption that Ethan had removed it led to another problem. His old compatriot had never been that powerful. He had never cared enough to study, always looking for short-cuts. Not that the young Rupert Giles had been the embodiment of a strong work ethic, but under all the posturing and arrogance, had been an honest desire to know how magic worked. That desire had driven him much deeper into the working of magic than Ethan had ever gone.
Of course, Ethan could have grown up and become studious, but Giles hadn’t seen any sign of increased maturity in their recent encounters. As far as he could determine, he was still the same old ‘the world owes me whatever I want, and they’d better pay up’ wizard that he’d always been.
So where was he getting the ability to perform complicated medical procedures, cast multiple teleportation spells, and create traps capable of restraining Slayers at least for a short time? It almost sounded as if a third party were involved, someone they didn’t know about.
Which led to the biggest problem of all. Why would someone do this?
Giles groaned, rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes, and attempted to regroup.
The first thing that had happened was the removal of Spike’s chip, which had restored the vampire to his original powers. Spike had, as was fairly easy to foresee, decided to revenge himself on Buffy, and he had started by attacking her friends.
Something twitched at the back of his mind. The attacks on Willow and Xander hadn’t been lethal. Giles had seen the bite on Willow’s neck, and it hadn’t been very deep: it didn’t even approach a killing strike. Xander had been hurt more seriously, but still, given that Spike could have thrown him in front of a bus, it hadn’t been an all-out assault.
The later attacks had certainly been lethal enough, but they hadn’t directly threatened Buffy. They had just infuriated her, set her on a deadly hunt for the vampire.
He frowned. Was the object not to kill Buffy, but to kill Spike as Anya had suggested?
But why not kill Spike outright? With the chip in his head, anyone off the street could have killed Spike if the vampire was prevented from running away. It wasn’t like anyone would have even objected particularly to the killing of Spike, although Buffy might because he was unable to defend himself which offended her basic sense of decency. Now, of course, she was perfectly ready to kill him on her own….
Giles sat up. He had the strong sensation that he was close, but he still didn’t know what he was close to. The purpose of this entire exercise appeared to be to set Buffy against Spike. But why? What was he missing?
Despite the tightly-shut windows and doors of his apartment, a breeze brushed over him, ruffling his hair. Giles stiffened, remembering the attack in The Magic Box, but there was no coldness here, no sense of menace. He suddenly caught the scent of fresh grass.
He turned, following the progress of the breeze around the apartment, as the curtains swayed, and pages of his books flipped back and forth. A sheet of paper wafted from his desk to the floor, and the breeze swirled once more around him and then dissipated.
“Never let it be said that I looked a gift visitation in the mouth,” he said softly, crossing to the paper.
Mathilda scowled out of her picture. Giles looked back. Somehow, she was the key. He had been wrong. The removal of Spike’s chip had not been the first event in this drama. That honor belonged to Buffy’s dream about an old story with a sad ending.
Mouth tight, he snatched up the phone.
It took several minutes and some agitated underlings, but Giles was finally put through.
“Travers, here. Giles do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. It is time, and more than time, for you to tell me about whatever the big bloody secret regarding the Spirit-Killer.”
“What are you on about?” Travers said irritably. “What big secret? I’ve told you what I know. She was only a Slayer for about eight months. There was nothing special about her.”
No, the fact that a sixteen-year-old girl had died fighting demons wouldn’t be anything special to Travers.
“You’re lying,” he said flatly. “There’s something about Mathilda Sawyer and the vampire who was in love with her. Something the Council doesn’t want me to know.”
Travers snapped, “You know the information that is required to perform your office as Watcher for the current Slayer. I would remind you that you do not rank particularly high within the Council, so it is reasonable that you are not privy to the more sensitive information.”
“Listen to me,” Giles’ voice dropped to an ice whisper. “I have a string of particularly hideous murders and a Slayer balanced on the knife-edge of her self-control. If something happens to Buffy, and I find out that it’s due to your withholding information I need to help her, you will find the combined attention of Angelus and Drusilla a gentle caress in comparison to what will happen.”
It was quiet for a moment, and then Travers said mildly, “Tell me what’s happening.”
He went through the events of the past few weeks, starting with Buffy’s first dream about what turned out to be the Spirit-Killer. Travers listened without interruption until Giles finished then sighed deeply. “Oh, bloody hell.”
That didn’t sound promising. “What?”
“I sincerely hoped this wouldn’t happen while I headed the Council.”
“WHAT?!”
“It sounds as if someone is taking steps to prevent the prophecy regarding the Adversary from being fulfilled.”
Giles ran through his mental database. “I’m not familiar with that particular prophecy.”
“No one on the Council is familiar with it except myself. This is eyes-only material.”
“But you’re going to share the material now.” It wasn’t a question.
“Good God, Giles. Of course I’m going to share it now. Surprising as it may seem, I don’t wish Buffy any harm.”
“All right.” Giles perched on the corner of his desk and pulled out his notebook. “What is this prophecy?”
“In a nutshell – I’ll give you the exact Latin in a moment – the prophecy states that if a Slayer and an Adversary become allies, they gain significantly in power.”
“What form of alliance?”
“It varies. If they simply agree to work together, each may gain some slight strength. They may not even notice. If the alliance becomes stronger, if emotional bonds form, if, in short, they fall in love, the amount of power increases exponentially.”
“What if the Slayer goes dark?” Giles shuddered, picturing Faith linking up with Angelus.
“That’s not how it works. That’s why this has never really come up before. The bond between Slayer and Adversary can’t come from the Slayer turning to evil.”
“But this has happened before,” Giles insisted. “Angel and Buffy loved each other. Why didn’t that fulfill this prophecy?”
Travers harrumphed. “And we all saw how that turned out. No, the Souled Vampire is a special case. He was cursed with his soul, he didn’t deliberately turn to the light on his own. Although,” he added charitably, “Angel has, in general, worked diligently on his redemption.”
Giles caught the ‘in general’ but wasn’t worried about Angel at the moment. “And you think this was happening with Buffy and Spike?”
“Good Lord, no! I saw that he was interested in her when we were there for the review, but it was undoubtedly some sort of carnal lust. Spike doesn’t have a soul. He isn’t capable of love. And Buffy’s disdain for him was obvious. Very proper. No, someone else thinks the prophecy is being fulfilled, and that’s why these events are happening.”
Travers sounded kind, helpful, and sensible. His explanation made sense. It all made sense, but something was still bothering Giles.
“In her dream, Buffy was told this was a very old story, and there was something in the legend about a vampire having feelings for Mathilda Sawyer.”
“Yes, well, you know how these things get embellished. Supposedly, a vampire named Jared was attracted to Mathilda. Crichton, her Watcher, showed her that he was using her. Also, Mathilda’s upbringing made her very distrustful of others, which was fortunate in this case, and she shunned him. They killed each other which proves Jared felt nothing.”
“That was the only time this happened?”
“There was one other time in the sixteenth century with the Slayer Susanna Penwick. Most unfortunate. She was actually in danger of succumbing to the vampire’s lure.”
There was a long pause. Giles frowned into the phone. “And?”
“I dislike talking about this. It was not our finest hour.” Another long pause, and Travers said with extreme reluctance. “Susanna’s Watcher denounced her for a heretic and witch. She was burned at the stake.”
“Dear God,” Giles felt cold. He knew there was danger every night she was on patrol. He had even faced the fact that there might come a time, if she was turned to a vampire, when he would have to slay her.
But the part that made her Buffy would already be dead, and he knew that he would not long survive the killing of her demon self. He tried to imagine deliberately sending Buffy to her death. How could someone betray the trust that was necessary between Slayer and Watcher?
“Rupert, we would all hate having to do such a thing,” Travers said gently. “But it was necessary. Her soul was in the gravest danger.”
“Was it?” Giles was still horrified over an action that had occurred four hundred years ago. “Why would it have been so terrible if a Slayer and vampire loved each other? The prophecy says the Adversary must turn toward the light. Even without a soul, they must choose Good over Evil.”
“They can’t, Giles. The prophecy speaks of something that isn’t possible. That’s why the information isn’t bandied about. The forces of evil would use it for their own purposes, and the Slayers would be confused, poor girls. Demons are foul and soulless beings. They cannot love. Particularly not a Slayer. Now, I’ll send you a copy of the original prophecy, and a list of people who might be orchestrating this. Keep an eye on Buffy and call me if you need anything else.”
Giles hung up the phone, switched on his fax, and sat numbly waiting for the information. He couldn’t wrench his mind away from the Watcher who had sent Susanna to her death. Could a demon do something much worse than such a betrayal?
Travers had sounded so sure, so confident in how things were. He remembered being sure once. It seemed very simple when he was studying in England. There were humans and there were demons. Us. Them. Good. Bad. Then, he had become Buffy's Watcher and met Angel. Not to mention Oz, Anya, Faith, and yes, even Spike. And Dawn. He had no idea whether Dawn had a soul.
The Initiative had been made up of and interested in protecting humans, but they seemed almost soulless in their interest of experimenting on demons, some of whom were quite harmless. It had taken Maggie Walsh to create Adam. Good and bad humans. Good and bad demons? Humans could switch, one to the other. Could demons? And if they could, where did that leave the Slayer?