Chapter Three

Everything was going smoothly. At seven'o'clock Giles drove to the cemetery, which was where his research had pointed to, hid his shotgun in a large bag—he reckoned that a shotgun would be a lot harder to explain away to the police than a vial of holy water or even a wooden stake—and headed off to the old tomb.

It was quiet—no vampires intercepted him on the way there, for which he was thankful. He, too, was tired, and wanted to finish the demon off quickly and then go home.

It didn't take forever to find the demon. Giles found her lurking inside the dark tomb, leaning over the body of a man and muttering. Giles flinched, squinting in the darkness, and lifted the shotgun. Apparently he hadn't been quick enough to save the first victim.

The demon lifted her head and Giles almost dropped the shotgun.

She looked like a woman at first glance—light blond hair, white skin, full lips. One side of her face was covered in intricate tattoos and her eyes had no whites—they were pure black. She bared her teeth and Giles caught a glimpse of fangs, not canine fangs like vampires had, but about six rows of razor-sharp incisors, like a shark. She was naked, but her body was covered in the same tattoos as the left side of her face.

Giles found himself hesitating.

The demon wasn't like the other demons he and Buffy went after. She was… perversely beautiful. Giles hated himself for thinking it, but it was true. There was something ethereal about her, forget the fangs, forget the body on the floor.

And everyone knows what happens to he who hesitates.

The demon leaped at him with a scream. That word was hopelessly inadequate for the sound that came out of her mouth—it took all of his will not to drop the gun and clap his hands over his ears.

Giles was stunned into acting as he felt pain explode in his shoulder. She'd bitten him. The book hadn't said anything about that. Desperately, he kept a deathgrip on the shotgun and somehow he found himself pulling the trigger.

A deafening bang echoed through the tomb. Shot at point-blank range through the head, the demon never had a chance. She fell back and was still. Trying to catch his breath, Giles struggled to his feet and inspected the dead demon.

Slowly, she dissolved. That was the only word for it. She didn't explode into dust like vampires did; she just melted into the ether, like sand blown away by the wind.

Giles hid his shotgun and called 911 about the body of the man.

The police came, took away the body in a body bag, questioned Giles seriously for a very long time, took him back to the station and questioned him some more until they let him go home. Luckily they didn't notice the wound on his shoulder, but it wasn't serious; for all the razor-sharp teeth, it really wasn't that deep and has already stopped bleeding.

It was midnight by that time. So much for hoping to get it done quickly. He'd killed the demon within five minutes but in total, five hours…

All in all, Giles was glad he told Buffy to take the evening off. He really hadn't needed her help after all, and if she'd come she would have had to endure hours of police questioning for no reason.

He went home, inspected his wound and cleaned it to avoid infection from wherever else that demon's teeth had been, and then collapsed into bed.

Darkness. And then a flickering candle light. Giles looked around in bemusement. Silence. Dead silence. He could see nothing except for the candle. And then he became aware of a presence close to himself; he could hear light breathing, sense someone's eyes on him. And he had never felt so vulnerable. He was terrified; he didn't know why, but he was.

"You're in trouble."

A clear, ringing woman's voice, and Giles felt himself sink to his knees. Please, no, I'm sorry, let me go, oh God, please, I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry…

Giles awoke with a start.

He passed a hand over his face and felt tears on his cheeks. He frowned. He must have had a nightmare; but he couldn't remember what it was, except for a vague recollection of a woman's voice. Maybe it had to do with Jenny. He'd spent months after his death dreaming about her and waking up in tears, although he hadn't done that of late. And those dreams had never left a vague imprint of paralysing terror.

No matter. He'd had a rough evening, that was bound to spawn bad dreams of some sort. Giles shrugged it off, and felt for his watch.

What he saw on the watch made him forget all about the dream as he realised that he was late. Very late.

He changed and got ready at the speed of light and disregarded every traffic law as he raced to Sunnydale High and leaped out of his car thirty minutes after the lunch bell had gone.

He got to the library feeling very harried, where the Scoobies were already assembled. Xander and Cordelia were perched on the same chair, and Oz and Willow sitting side by side, holding hands. Buffy was pacing, looking anxious.

"Giles! Thank God!" Buffy said, as soon as Giles entered the library. "We were so worried. We thought you might have gotten into trouble with the demon."

Giles shook his head. "I'm sorry. There was no trouble, but the police kept me up almost all night and I must have overslept."

"So what happened with the demon?" Xander asked. "I'm guessing the watcher kicked demon butt?"

Giles yawned. "Yes. Indeed I did."

"You look terrible," Cordelia pointed out with her usual tact. "Like, really awful terrible."

Giles smiled wanly. "Thank you for telling me, I had no id—"

Stop. Please. I didn't know. Please, I'm scared. I don't know what's going on. Did I do something wrong? I didn't know… I'm sorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry…

"Giles!"

He felt firm hands grip his shoulders, shaking him very lightly. He opened his eyes to see Buffy's alarmed face inches from his own.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You kind of zoned out for a bit," Oz said, who had gotten to his feet and was now sitting back down, brow furrowed. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, if you're gonna collapse on us you'd better let us know," Cordelia added.

"I am not going to collapse," Giles said. "I'm just tired. Don't you have to get to class soon?"

Cordelia, Xander, Willow and Oz filed out of the library without further protest, but Buffy stayed hovering near him.

"Principle Snyder wanted me to tell you to report to his office," Buffy said, making a face. "He seemed pretty mad."

"That monkeyman is almost always cross," Giles said, feeling cross himself. The last thing he wanted was to endure a lecture from Snyder.

I'm sorry!

Giles flinched, but luckily Buffy didn't notice. "Yeah," she said in sympathy. "Well, better you than me."

"Thanks very much," he said sarcastically, and they left the library together.

The corridors were lined with students mulling around and chatting or taking things from their lockers. Buffy and Giles weaved their way through the crowded corridor.

"How was the Bronze?" Giles asked, wondering why his voice suddenly sounded so muffled. Come to think of it, all the sounds were suddenly sounding like he was hearing them through a sheet of water. Odd. A bit disorienting. He shook his head to clear it and regretted it instantly.

"It was great! They had this guest band playing, they were seriously rocking, I actually got a headache afterward, but it was a good kind of headache, you know?"

A good headache? Giles had never heard of such a thing in his whole existence. He was currently suffering from a headache that was not very good at all, and was wishing heartily he'd never asked.

"And this other senior boy asked me to dance, and he was a great dancer, the next time I see him I'll definitely…"

Everything was spinning. The corridor around him dissolved into an inarticulate whirl of colours. Giles suddenly felt like he was going to fall and automatically grabbed the nearest thing to him in order to keep his balance, which happened to be Buffy's arm.

"Giles?"

Black and red bled across his vision. Everything was darkening, like the lights were slowly dimming. Maybe a power shortage? They really ought to get a technician to look at the electricity system. What seemed like thousands of invisible hands were forcing Giles to his knees. He tried to resist, but soon he was on the floor, blinking hard and grappling with his consciousness like it was a bar of wet soap, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Giles!"

Buffy was kneeling next to him. He was vaguely aware of her holding him, talking rapidly, shouting, screaming. Giles saw anxious brown eyes, and then her lips were moving and she was saying something to him, but everything was going black.

I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry