Not So Helpless
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfic
Author's Note:I do not own the characters in this story, just the situations involved. All characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
"Congratulations, you passed." Quentin Travers had never been prouder of a slayer in all his years. Buffy Summers was the first slayer to pass the Cruciamentum in many years. It was a slayer's rite of passage that, should she survive to her eighteenth birthday she be tested. The test itself would no doubt result in one of the most difficult fights in any slayer's career. She would be drained of her strength, and forced to face a vampire opponent in what was supposed to be controlled circumstances. Toward the end of draining her powers, Buffy's test went off without a hitch.
Things however, went horribly awry when Buffy's opponent, a vampire who was psychotic long before he was turned, escaped. Quentin continued to shower Buffy with praise. "You exibited extraordinary courage and clear headedness in battle," he said evenly. "The council is very pleased." Buffy glared at him. Her entire body vibrated with rage. "Do I get a gold star?" she replied, her voice laced with anger. Travers was undeterred. Giles remained silent, realizing his superior was on very dangerous ground right now. After all, not less than an hour ago, Buffy had threatened to kill him.
"I understand you're upset," he replied. Buffy's glare increased. If not for the fact that she was still weak, she would have already pounced. "You understand nothing," Buffy replied angrily. "You set that monster loose, and he went after my mother!" Travers didn't seem to be affected by that very important piece of information. "You think the test was unfair?" he asked. Buffy didn't miss a beat. "I think you'd better leave town before I get my strength back," she fired back.
Giles cringed as Travers continued to poke the bear with a stick. "We are not in the business of fair, Miss Summers," he said after a moments pause. "We're fighting a war." At this, Giles could no longer remain silent. "You're waging a war. She's fighting it. There is a difference," he said. As he spoke, Buffy briefly touched the cut on her head. It still stung, but nothing hurt worse than the betrayal she felt toward Giles for his participation. Travers was annoyed at Giles' interruption. "Mr Giles, if you don't mind," he started to reply, but Giles cut him off.
"The test is done. We're finished," he said sternly. He made sure to imply he wanted Travers to leave. For his part, Travers ignored the warning. "Not entirely. She passed, you didn't." He turned to face Giles as he spoke. "The Slayer is not the only one who must perform in this situation." He paused briefly. "I've recommended to the council, and they've agreed that you be relieved from your duties as Watcher immediately. You're fired." Giles was surprised at this, and Buffy was shocked. The anger rose as she watched the scene before her.
"On what grounds?" Giles demanded, struggling to keep his own temper in check. Quentin looked him in the eye. "Your affection for your charge has rendered you incapable of clear and impartial judgment. You have a father's love for the child, and that is useless to the cause. It would be best if you had no further contact with the Slayer," he said, as if it was no big deal. Buffy had heard enough. "Forget it," she said angrily. Quentin Travers couldn't believe what he'd just heard.
"Excuse me?" he demanded. "You heard me," she fired back. For a moment, all the pain she was feeling left her body as she stood to face him. "I don't work for the council. I certainly don't work for you," she said. Her voice was as cold as steel as she spoke. "I think it would be best if you went to the airport, got on a plane, and went the hell back to England. Leave. Now. Your presence is not welcome here." Travers couldn't remember a Slayer ever abandoning her calling. He tried to push the issue further.
"Be that as it may, we will be sending you a new watcher." He paused and looked right at Giles. "If you contramand his authority in any way, you will be dealt with. Are we clear?" Buffy could not believe the nerve of this man. Giles was about to answer, but Buffy cut him off. "No, we're not," she said grimly. Traverse tried to exert the authority he thought he had, but Buffy was beyond the point of caring. "I don't give a damn what you or the council says," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "And I promise you, any watcher you send me is going to get sent back to England in pieces."
Travers considered it. After an intense staredown, he decided to leave. "Yes, well, colorful girl." His comment was directed at Giles. As he took his leave, Buffy collapsed in the entire body ached from her encounter, nothing more than her heart. Giles had given up his job for her. And Travers hit the nail right on the head. Giles was the closest thing she had to a father. In no time, he crossed the room. He wet a towel, and placed it on the cut on her head. It stung, but she allowed him to mend her physical wounds.
1 Week later
It was simple really. Willow hacked the city's hotel records for one Quentin Travers the moment she heard the story. She had done it so fast, in fact, that when Buffy asked her to, she was amazed to find out that it was already done. Buffy's strength had returned, and her anger had not faded. The physical damage she'd suffered that night had healed, of course. It took much longer than normal due to the drugs she'd been dosed with. But for all intents and purposes, she was back to full power now.
Faith, too, had been told about the test. She was just over seventeen. Her response couldn't have been simpler. When informed that it would probably be expected of her to go through the Cruciamentum, she said two simple words in response. "Screw that!" Xander had been present at the time, and he echoed the sentiment. "My thoughts exactly," he had quipped. This earned a laugh from all present, including Giles, who usually didn't find Xander that funny.
It had been a trying day for Buffy anyway. She had recieved a week of detention from the Principal from Hell, Snyder. That said, she was in the mood to beat something. "So what's the verdict, Will? Is Travers still here?" she asked expectantly. In spite of her day, her tone had all the brightness of a child coming downstairs on Christmas morning, and was hoping that Santa had brought that special gift they'd wanted for months. "One sec," Willow responded, turning her lap top on. She was in the very long line of friends who thought it was complete bull that the council would treat their ally that way.
"It seems that Mr. Quentin Travers continues to maintain his hotel room at Sunnydale's Best Western," she reported happily. Following a knowing look from Buffy, she lowered her voice. Buffy was certain that, even with all the council had put her through, there was no way he would condone what she was about to do. Faith walked in at the right time. "You payin' Mr. Tweed a visit?" she asked with a laugh. Buffy nodded. "Oh, yeah. I told him he'd better be gone when I got my strength back. He must have thought I was bluffing."
The two Slayers exchanged a look. Both wore large and dangerous looking smiles on their faces. "Will, I'm going. If Giles asks, tell him I had some homework to do and I'll patrol later," she instructed. Will nodded uneasily. She hoped Giles wouldn't ask her. She hated lying. She was still feeling grief about the sorority incident a year ago, where Buffy and Cordy were almost sacrificed by a reptile-worshipping cult. Wasting no time, the Slayers left the library.
Unbenownst to them, Giles had heard every word. He briefly considered warning Travers that two angry and full powered Slayers were on their way, but decided against it. He agreed with Buffy's feelings. And he was sure she wouldn't kill Travers. There was one rule as a Slayer that Buffy followed without question: Slayers didn't kill people. As soon as he heard the doors close, he stepped out of his office. He locked eyes with Willow, whose face wore a pleading look that said "Don't ask me." He made it simple. "Buffy's going after Quentin isn't she?" Willow hesitating before answering. "Yep," she deadpanned.
Buffy and Faith quietly scoped the situation out. Quentin only had two bodyguards. "You'd think he'd be better prepared," Faith said in annoyance. "This is insulting." Buffy nodded in agreement. "Faith, do you think we knock them out quietly?" she asked. Faith scoffed. "Come on, B. Challenge me a little." With that, they silently crept toward Travers' room. The guards posted outside had no idea what was happening. Buffy and Faith each knocked one out. "You stand watch, while I have a word with Mr. Travers." Buffy instructed with a laugh. "I'll be a while." Faith saluted her fellow slayer. "Yes, Ma'am," she said with a laugh.
Quentin had his back to the door, and thus assumed it was one of his guards who'd just entered. "I take it there are no disturbances?" he asked nonchalantly. "Not yet," a feminine voice replied. Travers whirled around to face Buffy. "What is the meaning of this, Miss Summers?" he angrily demanded. Buffy smiled a very dangerous smile. It was like she were a cat about to play with the mouse it planned on having for dinner. "I told you better leave town before I got my strength back," she replied. "You didn't." Faith smiled as screams were heard from behind the door.
Epilouge
Three days later
School had just been let out for the day, and Giles had just finished checking out a book for a student when a young man walked in. There was an air of confidence about him. "Mr... Giles?" he asked. Giles recognized the British accent. "Can I help you?" he replied. "My name is Wesley Wyndam Price, and I am looking for Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane." Giles ushered him into his office with no delay. "You're the new Watcher?" he asked as soon as the door was closed. Wesley nodded. "That is correct," he replied.
"Trust me, if you value your life, go back to the airport and get the quickest possible flight back to England," Giles instructed. Wesley looked confused. As if in answer to the question that was about to be asked, Giles produced a hospital report for one Quentin Travers. Wesley immediately noticed a long list of non-fatal, but sure to be painful injuries. He got the message, loud and clear. "Right then," he said, and left Sunnydale High School as fast as his legs could carry him.
The End