Chapter 6: Future warnings

Rupert Giles stepped off the plane with a look of grim determination spread across his features. He smiled politely at the flight attendant before hurrying down the ramp and making his way over to the cramped passenger bus that would take the flyers to the baggage claim area. The smell of the vehicle rivalled that of Xander after he'd been chased by those vampires that one time, the memory made Giles chuckle. It didn't last long though as an overly large and somewhat damp man barged into him.

His decision to leave for Italy hadn't been because he was worried about Andrew, or Robin. The ex-principle wasn't in Italy with Andrew like everyone thought anyway; he was in America with Angel setting up a secondary mini-slayer base, and the irritating closeted blonde made no dent on his conscious. Last time Andrew had called in a panic over demons it was because the slayers he had recruited had brought theirs back alive. He claimed that they were out to get him when really they were being teenage girls and messing with him.

So no, he wasn't in Italy for an emergency. Not one that would concern his surrogate family anyway. It ran deeper than that – an old friend that even he hadn't remembered until that odd phone call only a few hours ago.

The bus came to a halt outside the doors and Giles was one of the first people off. First he dragged a lungful of fresh, none nausea inducing, air and then he made his way inside to collect his luggage. The airport itself was not all that large, and there weren't that many people about, so it didn't take long for him to locate his bag, rent a car and head outside again.

The phone call had worried him deeply, and he had to suppress the urge to wipe his glasses again. He didn't like his new ones, his old ones were much nicer – but the opticians had been unable to repair the damage done via hell mouth onto his old spectacles.

It wasn't as though his friend had been threatening, or menacing, or malevolent in any way. It was just because he had rung him, after so many years. The nature of his call was not all that calming either.

Giles yanked open the back door of his temporary car and threw his luggage haphazardly in before climbing into the front and turning the key in the ignition. He didn't like the car. It was too large and made a God awful noise so he gritted his teeth and followed the traffic out of the airport and toward his desired destination.

He glanced at his watch; it was about two in the morning in England now. It bothered him a little leaving everyone there alone and without supervision, purely because last time he had made that mistake he had come back to find Willow tied by her ankles to the ceiling and all the mini slayers, plus Buffy, Faith and Dawn, passed out on the floor. He didn't ask why, or what had happened. Giles had been afraid of the answer.

Before he realised he was out of the city and onto a long stretch of blank and featureless road. His destination was more or less in the direction of Foligno, but he knew that when he was close his friend from the past would find him.

His mind wandered to the memory of the last time he had seen this person, if you could call him that.

He was a fresh watcher, long before he ever met Buffy or the rest of his surrogate family. Sure, he'd been trained to know all about one, but he'd never actually seen one. It didn't matter though, everything he needed to know was in the handbook...

But that day wasn't in the handbook – he had been taught that all demons were evil, that all demons and vampires and anything that wasn't human were wrong. Andy wasn't human, even if he looked like he was, he defiantly wasn't. There was no doubt in Giles's mind that Andy was abnormal, strange, extra terrestrial almost. All you needed to see to be sure of that was his golden eyes and the fact that he glowed with a silver light when you saw him in direct sunlight – he didn't go out much.

Giles had stood behind him, sword help high and poised ready to strike, when a voice in his mind gently commanded him to lower it. He complied without meaning to – the voice sounded so sweet, and relaxing, impossible to ignore. To disobey it was not an option.

It had only taken him a minute to realise that it was the creature who was speaking into his mind. The second it had turned to face him he knew that his life would never be the same.

"Rupert Giles," it had said, calmly. In the same voice that had encased Giles's senses and nervous system. "I've been waiting for you."

He was sent to his knees, gazing up at the creature. Giles didn't know why he fell to the floor; it just felt right - like he should honour the being. "You have?"

"My name is Andreas," it continued. Its golden eyes were soft and showed no evil. There wasn't even a flicker of darkness – just pure golden liquid. It made Giles want to drown in them. "It will take too long to explain everything to you in this day, but for now: You may call me Andrew, or Andy; I come from somewhere that is quite different to this, a different time," it was then that Giles realised that Andreas was speaking Latin, and that he was having no problem at all understanding a word of it. "My world, and your future, is in peril Rupert."

Giles stared up at the being, future? A thousand questions flooded his mind but he couldn't form a coherent thought. "W...What?"

"You must not mention me to the council Rupert, do you understand me? I will contact you soon and explain more then."

The Watcher blinked in awe, but when he opened his eyes, Andreas was gone.

"Funny definition of soon," Giles mumbled to himself as he neared the village where he would be meeting Andrew.

The being had been pushed from his mind for many years, he could barely believe that he had forgotten him. It's not every day that you meet someone from the future, yet somehow it had seemed unreal. As though he had dreamt the whole thing and because Andreas had never contacted him again he just assumed that, that was what it was – a dream.

But here he was, in a stuffy car that was far too large, driving faster than he probably should down an Italian road. He wondered if Andreas has changed at all, if he had even aged at all. The being had mentioned future trouble, and using his past experiences with world peril, his imagination came up with thousands of possibilities.

The village came into view and Giles's heartbeat sped up despite his attempts at remaining calm. He steered the car off the main road and onto a somewhat bumpy and uneven lane that would lead him to the entrance of the collection of houses. The car roared as he passed over each pot hole – it was far from a discreet entrance.

"Rupert," a voice said in his head. "Welcome."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Kennedy sat outside the mansion on a bench in light of the stars. She couldn't quite believe how the night had turned out. She had known for a while that there was something going on in Willow's head, but no matter what she tried, when or how, the red head just laughed it off and changed the subject.

Her mind wandered back to the wreckage of Sunnydale, and then further still. How long had Willow had these thoughts? Kennedy knew that Tara would always hold a part of willow's heart that she would never be able to touch, but she didn't think that there was still a blazing fire of love there. She thought that Willow loved her, did she ever?

Memories of what she said to her girlfriend stung her heart, but no matter how hard she tried she knew she would have done it exactly the same if it happened again. That was just the way she was, she reacted the only way she knew how, yelling. It was the way she had been brought out, you got your way by having the loudest voice. She knew deep down that no matter how many times she replayed the scene that it would remain the same, and there was no apologising for what she said.

It had all been so stupid. A surge of jealousy and rage just at the mention of her name came erupting from her stomach and she was powerless to stop it. Not only did she say her name, but she said it while she was doing that, of all the moments it was that one, and then to use magic on her.

"No way was all of it my fault," she spat.

Her night had gone from worse to worse than worse during the fight. Faith had, had the original idea for the demon ring, but it hadn't taken her long to join in. She felt it was a good way to train the mini slayers. If they died, well they weren't worth it then, and it wasn't like buffy even knew how many she had in the house – if a few went missing every now and again she wasn't going to notice.

It had been a genius idea really, when you think about it. There was no better way to train than against actual demons, right? Besides she wasn't really doing anything wrong. Tricking Dawn had been Faith's idea anyway, not hers. It was Faiths fault that it existed. She had just gone along for the ride.

"What a shitty night, what did I do to deserve this?" She mumbled to no one.

Because when you thought about it, it wasn't really her fault, was it?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Xander stepped off the plane in Newquay after his thirty minute flight and armed with his only piece of luggage marched straight through the airport and out into the Cornish air. The mansion itself wasn't far if you knew the way, but the turning was concealed and hard to find if you didn't know what to look for.

He hadn't been here for ten months, and had barely spoken to any of the people inside. It made his heart ache but he tried not to focus too much on the past as he drove down the long winding country lane that would lead him to the front gate. You either needed a passcode or an appointment to get inside. It was manned by a friend of Angels and if you didn't have the right circumstances you would not get in, end of sentence, full stop, no arguments.

"Passcode," the creature growled from the shadows as Xander pulled up to the gate.

He hoped they hadn't changed it from the original code. "SC95."

A grumble told him that he was right and the groaning of the gate as it opened put a silly grin on his face. The system was effective even if it was simple; it kept out unwanted visitors like salesmen and well… people.

The gate slid closed behind his with a loud whine that he knew would probably not go unnoticed by the inhabitants of the house. However, he reasoned that most of them would be asleep. Now that he was only a few metres away the growing sense that something was going to go wrong grew to a new intensity inside of him.

He exited the car and readjusted the bag on his shoulder. The wooden weapons rattled inside but he paid little attention, the sound was easy to ignore when it was all you had heard for the last eight years. With his head held high he strode forward and made his way to the front door.

Before he had even gotten half way across the distance he noticed the girl sitting on the bench in front of him. It didn't take him long, no more than a few second, to recognise Kennedy. Memories of tantrums, bruises and language that he would never care to repeat flooded his mind and he could tell, with a sinking heart, that she was not in a good mood.