Willow walks in the front door as Xander plops into a recliner. "Hey, Willow. How'd it go?"
"Smooth. Where's the head watcher."
"Giles is keeping an eye on him downstairs." She starts to head for the basement but pauses as Xander continues. "Buffy said that he's not human, that he's some type of demon so be careful, okay?" He smiles at her, his concern clear.
"I'll be careful, Xander." She reassures him before she makes her way to the basement.
The cool grey concrete walls of the nearly empty basement contrast with the bare chest of Quentin Travers and the red heat of the brazier. The head of the Watchers Council hangs limply from his bonds against the far wall.
Rupert Giles pulled on one of the chains holding Travers' leg to the floor, testing it's strength. He looks up as she reaches the bottom step. "How was your mission, this night?"
"Fine. They somehow got Lucius for the test." She looks at him for a moment. "Did you know he was still around?"
"I was of the understanding that he had been slain just after the American Civil War. Apparently, that's not what happened. I'll have check my books and other sources and see what I can find, about Quentin here as well."
"All right, Giles." She shoos him up the stairs. She waits patiently for his exit, occupying her time by examining the tools and implements laid out ahead of time for their captives questioning. After the door swings closed, she speaks "You can stop pretending, Travers. I know."
He opens his eyes and looks at her, his very gaze seemingly condescending. "Very well, witchling. Do you know who I am?"
"And do you know who I am?"
"You're just a two-bit witch who thinks you've got some power and are out to make a name for yourself. I, on the other hand, am Quintin Travers, head of the Watchers Council. And if you don't release me, I will make sure that what's left of your life will be extremely unpleasant."
"You were appointed to the governing body after you arranged for the death of the slayer Buffy Summers. Four years ago, you maneuvered your way into becoming the head. All because of a prophecy that Buffy would see the destruction of the Council. And so you arranged for a turned witch to be her opponent for her cruciamentum." His shocked face tells her that he remembers her now. "You chose me then and now it's time for you to return the favor." She picks up a razor sharp knife and thrusts it through his right hand, pinning it to the concrete wall. "I have a few questions for you. And by the time I done with you, you will tell me every thing I want to know." She takes a pair of pliers and proceeds to slowly remove the finger nail from his left pinkie.
Upstairs, the muffled screams begin to rise. Xander looks over to Giles. "How long do you think he'll last?"
"Would you care to make a small wager on it, my good man?"
Back at the library, Wesley looks at Buffy in horror. "You don't care what happens to humanity?" he blurts out.
"Why should I? Your kind has spent enough time trying to slay me so why should I? Just as long as enough of you exist for my lover and I to live, I really don't care about any other vamps out there. They're either to stupid, just wanna use us for their own ends or they just wanna get into my pants. If anything, they draw to much attention to our own existence. Is that clear enough for ya?"
Angel looks up at the all to familiar philosophy in surprise. To hear his own thoughts reflected back at himself, even though he has started to act in Cordelia's aid.
"So, Cordy, take several days off. The local nightlife already knows about your test." Buffy spits out word like a curse. "And the smarter ones will try to kill you before you recover. So I'll patrol the town for you."
"Why are you doing this?" Wesley asks, wondering why this fiend seems so helpful.
"Why else? The council wants her dead. That's enough reason for me to keep her alive for now." She smiles the smile of a predator playing with it's food. "My secondary goal is the destruction of the council for what they did to me. And in this case, if you oppose me, you're working for the end of the human race. Savor the irony, watcher."
Cordelia bursts out laughing semi hysterically. ""So we've got to deal with the council, a vamped slayer, a powerful vamp witch and stave off an apocalypse to boot. Sure and what's happening next week?"
"We have another slayer coming. She'll be her in a few days." Wesley chokes out, as the realization of the betrayal the council has perpetrated on him and his slayer sinks in.
Cordy whips to face him. "Another slayer?" she gasps.
Buffy laughs. "So their sending faith. They must really be desperate."
Wesley looks at her in dismay. "Why do you say that?" His prim and proper tone sending her into more laughs.
She gasps out through her chuckles "Because Faith is almost a rogue. She's killed more people that any two other slayers on record. And it's her death that called the one before Cordy."
Angel catches the last part and looks up from his musings. "Her death?" he asks.
"Her watcher, a Gwendolyn Post, tried to kill her while trying to steal a magic glove. She killed her own watcher but died during the deed. Paramedics were on the scene to deal with the fire and brought her back. Some kind of massive electrical jolt." Buffy concludes, grinning at Wesley's dismay.
He recovers his composure, and think back over one of Buffy's earlier comments, inquires "What's your first goal, if I might inquire?"
"What does every vampire want, Spike?" she asks causing them to look around.
Spike walks out of the stacks warily, watching the unknown girl warily. "Most of us want either more power or a way around our limitations."
"Right." she comments "and we have a bit of power."
"Don't pull my leg, little girl. If you're a vamp..." He stops as the blessed steel of a razor sharp blade burns into the skin of his neck, his amazement at her speed evident as he holds very still.
She looks him in the eye and shifts, her face taking on the face of a vampire. The ridges above her eyes are minimal in size and yet stand out with a reddish tint. She pulls back and sheathes the knife. "My sire wants to deal with you personally and I think I'll let her have the fun of dealing with you." She walks out of the door and waves her hand over her shoulder at them.
Spike waits until he can no longer hear her footsteps before he stumble to the table and collapses into a seat. "Who was that?" His voice heavy with unease.
"Her name is Buffy Summers. And she is your grand childe, in a manner of speaking."
"That doesn't explain this." He points at the fresh burn on his throat.
Angel looks at where the confrontation took place while speaking. "Her sire is Willow Rosenberg" He turns to Spike and looks him in the eye. "and she was a slayer in the sixties."
"But Willow's dead." A hint of fear in his tone.
Cordelia raises her voice. "No she's not. She's the one that killed Lucius and saved my life tonight. She used some kind of fire spell and held him in place while the flames slowly spread over his body. He was helpless before she let him die. And Buffy can handle blessed objects."
Spike looks at them. "Bye. This place just got to hot for me." He gets up to leave.
"Why, Spike? Why are you running?"
"Because Willow wants me dead in the worst way possible. And she was a master of torture before she escaped from me. I tried to break her before I turned her and afterwards she still managed to escape and then her coven mates bound my soul to me. I've roamed the world since 1815 when I was turned and no one else ever managed to get away without being broken to my will. And tonight, with Buffy, I had no claim on her unlike every other childe or grandchilde of mine. Soif you think I'm going to stay in town and let them find me? Not on your life, mate."