Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Notes: This was written in response to a challenge from Tempestt on Elysian Fields, and posted as part of the site's Challenge Month. I've always loved reading stories in which Buffy and Spike meet under different circumstances, and it's why this challenge spoke to me; it incorporates the idea of Angel never being cursed with a soul and the Whirlwind never breaking up, thus never coming to Sunnydale, so Spike's history and Buffy's history will be a little different, which I'll reveal over the course of the story. This first chapter includes dialogue from the season three episode "Helpless".
"When I hit him it felt like my arm was broken. It hurt so much…" I try to choke back the sob that almost escapes, not wanting Giles to hear just how much the earlier encounter affected me. The almost-sob is hidden underneath the roar of the car engine.
Going out was a bad idea. I knew it the moment I climbed out my bedroom window. But I couldn't leave Sunnydale defenceless, despite what Giles said; that Kendra could handle patrol alone for a few nights without me while we figured out what's wrong.
Why I'm suddenly a normal girl again.
Willow and Xander think it's poison, or some kind of illness that only affects Slayers. They're adamant that it's something that can be fixed, and their support is the only reason I haven't broken down completely. In the almost-two years that I've known them we've become inseparable; always there for each other despite our ups and downs. I'm glad to have them.
But it makes me feel worse, knowing that I can't defend them anymore. I may never be able to defend them again.
I have my own theory for what's going on. The Slayer line has been split. I died and came back – thank you, Xander – and after that Faith was called. Then after she died, Kendra was called. Kendra hasn't said anything to me, but I get the impression that she agrees with my theory; she's treating me like I don't matter anymore, like I'll soon be gone for good.
Maybe not for good, at least not the girl part of me. But the Slayer part, definitely.
So either my powers will come back or they won't. I hope we find out which it is soon; I don't think I can take this anymore. Either they're coming back or I'm making plans to move as far away from the Hellmouth as I can. And convince Mom and Dawn to come with. I can't defend myself, and I can't defend them.
My friends will be better off with Kendra protecting them.
Pulling myself out of my thoughts I look out the car window and realize we're driving along a road I don't recognize. It's dark, which doesn't help.
Giles isn't driving me home. He's not driving me to his flat, or even to the school. Where is he taking me?
"Where are we?" I ask. I turn and notice that he's gripping the steering wheel extra tight. There're also little beads of sweat on his forehead. On a normal person they wouldn't be that noticeable.
But this is Giles, and Giles never sweats.
"On the outskirts of town," he replies. There's a small stutter in his voice. Something's wrong, and I'm afraid to ask what it is. "There's an inn; the Sunnydale Arms. That's…that's where I'm taking you."
"But why?" He doesn't reply. "Giles, you're scaring me." In an attempt to lighten the mood I say, "Are you just saying that so I don't ruin the surprise of you taking me to the ice show?" Earlier today I could tell that he really didn't want to go, but he never said 'no' outright. At the time I was still upset over Dad bailing on me, so maybe I didn't notice him silently agreeing.
"No, it's not that." Giles shakes his head.
My heart sinks. "Then I don't understand."
He lets out the breath he must've been holding throughout the entire car journey. "Buffy…" He looks at me then back at the road, and I can tell that he's struggling to find his words. First I lose my strength, and now this. It's turning out to be the worst birthday ever.
And that's saying something considering what happened last year.
"Giles…" I hint for him to continue.
Somehow his grip on the steering wheel tightens further. I didn't think that was possible. "First and foremost, this was not my idea. It goes against everything the Council should stand for, but… That barbarian Travers insisted that this would be best for you. A Slayer has not survived for as long as you have in so long…"
"What are you talking about?" What's this got to do with the Council? And this Travers guy? I've heard Giles mention his name a few times before. He's the head of the Council. But what's he got to do with all of this?
He shakes his head. "I can't reveal anymore. It's against protocol… I could be fired. And they have already threatened to fire and deport me if I intervene in any way, even through something as trivial as giving you a warning."
If I wasn't scared before, then I would be now. Why would Giles be giving me a warning? A warning about what? "The Council threatened to fire you? Deport you?" I've already lost one Watcher, back in LA. I can't lose another. "Giles, if the Council threatened that then I won't hold it against you."
"You will not be so understanding once it's over." The car pulls to a halt, and I look ahead of me in time to catch a glimpse of a group of people standing beside the Sunnydale Arms before Giles's headlights switch off and everything goes dark.
Giles climbs out of the car first, and I hesitate before following. In movies when people drive out of town and into the middle of nowhere, it never ends well. With everything that's happened to me over the past three years, I dread to think what lies ahead for me in those same circumstances.
We walk towards the group of people; two of them are holding those old fashioned lanterns, but the light isn't very bright and it isn't until I'm closer that I recognize at least two of them.
Lydia looks just as uncomfortable as Giles. She's been doing better since Faith's death; pouring herself into running the school has helped with that. She's no longer the uptight, no-nonsense woman who took over the role of Principal after Flutie was killed; Faith had a hand in getting her to loosen up a bit. From up-tight British woman to determined fighter, and now to the almost empty shell of someone in mourning. Giles, for the most part, has been the same since Jenny's death.
I also recognize Wesley, Kendra's Watcher. He took the role after the Jamaican girl's original Watcher was killed not long after she was called. He's nothing like Giles or Lydia; he never gets involved in the fights, always jumps to conclusions based on outdated Council teachings and has a low tolerance for both my school and my friends. He's a stickler for the rules, not understanding why Giles allowed me to attend school or even have friends.
He and Kendra make the perfect pair.
I don't recognize the other three men. The two holding the lanterns look like lackeys; emotionless and well-dressed, showing no individual character whatsoever. And in the centre of them all is a short, bald man in a tweed suit that makes Giles's fashion choices look tame by comparison. He would've reminded me a little of Merrick if he didn't look so cold and business-like. Merrick was stern but well-meaning; always doing what was best for me and willing to make compromises while also pushing me to try harder. This man looks like the type who would be stern just for the heck of it.
It doesn't take me long to figure out that this is Travers, the head of the Council.
But what is he doing here? And what's with the meeting in the middle of nowhere and in the middle of the night? It's creepy.
I hope we're not gonna be burying a body.
I hope more that the body in question won't be me.
"You're late," says Travers, addressing Giles. He doesn't even spare a glance at me. None of them do, apart from Lydia; the look she sends my way is one full of both encouragement and worry.
"There was an incident," says Giles. "Buffy was attacked by two vampires."
Travers's gaze flickers to me for only a moment. It's not one of sympathy, but of disappointment. Charming. Nice to know he cares about the Slayer he's using to wage a war against the undead. "I thought I told you to prevent her from going out."
"Miss Summers is stubborn," Wesley speaks up. He looks even more nervous than Giles does, though him looking nervous at all isn't a surprise. "I mentioned that in my report."
Wait, a report? And why did Travers tell Giles to stop me from patrolling? "What's going on? Do you know what's happening to me?"
"We do," Travers replies, finally giving me his full attention. "It is a test. On her eighteenth birthday a Slayer is weakened and put up against a foe she must defeat without her usual strength. A Slayer is not just physical prowess; she must have cunning, imagination, a confidence derived from self-reliance. Once this is all over, you will be stronger for it."
Wait…what?
"Or she'll be dead for it," says Giles. I can see his anger just waiting to boil over. He's clearly uncomfortable. "It's an archaic exercise in cruelty."
"I have to agree with Giles," Lydia speaks up, but not as confidently as Giles. "To lock her in that…prison…weakened, defenceless…and then to unleash him on her… It is barbaric."
Giles's words come back to me. That barbarian Travers insisted that this would be best for you…
"If any one of the Council still had actual contact with a Slayer, they would see," Giles continues. "But myself and Lydia are the only ones in the thick of it." I notice that he doesn't include Wesley on that list.
"Which is why the both of you are not qualified to make this decision," says Travers. His expression doesn't change. I wonder if he's a robot, like Ted. "You're both too close. You've both lost too much already." At those words Lydia lowers her head and takes a step back.
I clench my fist. That was a low blow. It's not Lydia's fault that Faith died.
That she ended up putting a bullet in her own head.
"So let me get this straight," I speak up. "For some weird reason, a Slayer's powers vanish on her eighteenth birthday, so the Council decides to take the opportunity to test her? When she's at her weakest? When I can't even hit a normal human?!" I try not to raise my voice, but it breaks a little. Why would they do this?
"A Slayer's powers do not vanish on their own. She is given a suppressant that weakens her muscles; prevents her from climbing back to the top of her game. In simpler words, they are taken from her." At this Travers looks over at Giles. "By her Watcher."
Everything freezes.
By her Watcher.
My powers didn't just go away, I realize. They were taken from me. Ripped away from me without my consent or even wanting them gone.
And Giles was the one who took them.
I can't look at him. I can only stare at the dirt path beneath my feet as tears begin to well up in my eyes. Giles did this to me. He made me feel weak. He didn't tell me what was happening, and I was almost killed. I can't defend myself against the monsters I have to face every night. I can't even defend myself against humans.
I've been feeling helpless, asking Giles what's wrong with me, if he could fix me…and all along he knew.
And I thought Dad bailing on me was the worst betrayal I could imagine. This is worse. So, so much worse.
"What right…did you have…to do this to me?" I barely whisper.
"I'm sorry, Buffy, I…" He tries to lay a hand on my shoulder but I push it away as violently as I can manage. "I didn't have a choice."
He said so in the car. Said that they threatened to fire him; deport him. But wouldn't he have done that to stop this from happening to me? Isn't that what a father's supposed to do; protect their children from harm?
This is the total opposite of that. Giles was supposed to be different than Dad – but not even Dad would do something like this.
He tries to lay a hand on my shoulder again but I stumble away. "Get away from me!" I try to wipe away the tears that are now flooding over my cheeks, not wanting to look as vulnerable as I feel in front of our audience. I swallow, raise my chin and level my gaze at Travers. "I'm not doing your stupid test."
The man still doesn't change his expression. Definitely a robot. "I'm afraid you do not have a choice, Miss Summers."
Before I have time to react the two men I don't know stride forwards, grab hold of my arms and drag me towards the inn.
Towards whatever horrors await me inside. And judging from the words of Giles and Lydia, it can't be anything of the good.
"No, wait! Please! Don't do this!" I try to struggle from their grasp, but without my powers it's hopeless. I'm not the Slayer anymore. I'm just a girl; a normal girl, maybe even weaker than normal, because I've gotten so used to being the strong one.
And now they're trapping me with a monster, and with no guarantee that I'll be getting out alive.
"No! Wait!" I hear Giles pleading behind me but I ignore his cries. This is all his fault. He took my powers from me, and now it's gonna kill me.
Killed by my own Watcher.
I thought the Master would do me in. Or Dracula, or Acathla.
But not my own Watcher.
I'm dragged inside and thrown to the floor. I'm able to stumble to my feet, but the door is closed and locked behind me before I can try and escape. I consider banging on the door and begging them to let me out, but I know it won't do me any good.
I saw the look on Travers's face. He doesn't care what happens to me. All he cares about is this stupid test.
But how can I fight whatever's in here without any weapons?
Just as I ask myself this I spy a bag sat on a worn couch in the next room. I walk towards it hesitantly, hoping it's not some kind of trap, but I determine that it's not when I reach it and I open it up to look inside.
It's filled with all sorts of weapons; stakes, a crossbow, crosses, Holy water… The stakes and the crossbow won't do me any good. I can't aim, and I don't have the strength to stake a vampire. I wouldn't be able to pierce the skin. Dragging either around would just hinder me, especially since there's plenty of broken wood lying around.
At least I know now that my opponent is a vampire.
I begin to pocket the crosses and Holy water, all the while wondering why the Council left this stuff for me. They seemed adamant to force me to do this so-called "test" without any help, and by my definition, having any form of weapon means having help. I reach into the bag again and my hand touches a piece of paper. I pull it out and find it scrawled with Lydia's handwriting:
We are not allowed to provide a Slayer with weapons, but I disagree with the rule. You need all the help you can get.
L.C.
P.S. Your opponent is William the Bloody
Thank you, Lydia. At least someone's trying to help me.
Wait…
The note drops from my hand when it registers what she's just told me.
William the Bloody.
To lock her in that…prison…weakened, defenceless…and then to unleash him on her…
Why would they force me to fight him, of all vampires?
When Lydia first arrived in Sunnydale I was still trying to defeat the Master. It wasn't long after I defeated Penn, one of the Master's main lackeys, and Lydia advised Giles that I should familiarize myself with the more powerful vampires in the Aurelian line in case the Master called on any of them.
Lydia had been adamant that if any of them would be summoned, it would be the Master's great-great-grandchilde, William the Bloody. Also known as Spike. Also known as the Slayer of Slayers.
Since being turned in the late 1800s he's killed two Slayers, along with an unconfirmed third. Whenever I wasn't dealing with what the Hellmouth usually dished out on a weekly basis Lydia was getting me to read up on everything there was to know about this vampire, though admittedly, there wasn't much. He travels with the rest of his vampire family and had last been seen somewhere in Europe. It was enough to set me at ease; that he probably wouldn't be coming to kill me in my sleep.
After the Master was defeated I forgot all about him, and everything that Lydia told me went right along with him.
Now I wish I hadn't.
I decide to bring one stake with me just in case.
It's when I'm rising to my feet that I hear the voice.
"Slayer…"
End Notes: I've written up to chapter eleven of this story, and while I'll be posting the next chapter soon - because lets face it, you all want to see Spike - updates will most likely be only once (or twice) a week until I get more written. Please leave feedback!