"Anya," Giles called through to the front of the shop, "are we busy?"
"Not really, why?" she shouted back, her voice muffled in the velvet cloth she was arranging on a display table.
He came and stood in the doorway between the shop floor and back, watching her build the display with a critical eye.
"Put the crystal balls behind the Oflagean box," he directed.
"No. I'm a girl. I do things like displays," she said impatiently, nudging the crystal balls to show off the box behind them a little better. "Is that all you wanted?"
"Oh, no," he said, hefting the book he carried. He brought it over to her and flipped to a picture, showing her the demon it depicted. "Do you recognise this? There's a picture but no name or information."
She took the book away from him and looked at the picture, thinking for a moment.
"It's a Desuin demon."
"Desuin?" Giles said, faintly recognising the name.
"Yeah," Anya said, quickly growing bored, "big as assassins back around the middle of the millennium. Not so many around now. Or, possibly any."
"Assassins," Giles muttered, "thank you." He returned to the back. Anya watched him bump into the cash desk on his way out.
* * * * *
Buffy wandered into her dormroom and headed over to her closet, selecting a blue sweat top and matching pants to train in.
"Did you get the message?" Willow said, coming in behind her.
Buffy looked over her shoulder, noting for the first time the blinking red light on the answering machine. "Feel free," she said, scrutinising the top for marks.
Willow pressed play and the message ran back.
"Hello, Buffy, it's Giles. I believe I've found Sarah, if you want to come to the shop."
Buffy slowed in her actions and looked at the machine, suddenly wondering if she really wanted to know the details of this girl's life. Or, more specifically, her death.
"Want me to come with?" Willow offered.
Buffy smiled at the redhead gratefully, "Yeah. Thanks."
* * * * *
"Sarah Madison," Giles said, placing a volume of the Watcher's Diaries in front of them. "Called in England in 1675. Her Watcher was named Catherine Jacobson."
"But, the dream," Buffy started.
"Her married name," Giles said, overriding her, "Catherine's husband was one Oliver Jacobson."
"Anything on David?" Buffy said, pacified.
Giles cleared his throat. "There is only one mention in what I've read. It would appear that Catherine was not aware of Sarah's... ah... relationship with him."
"So what was the mention?" Buffy asked.
Giles sat down, "Catherine writes of Sarah's brush with a Desuin demon, a type of supernatural assassin. I believe that is what you dreamt last night. Three nights later, she makes a brief note that Sarah has been killed, and that there is no immediately obvious cause of death."
"A brief note?" Willow said, upset, "her Slayer dies and she writes a brief note?"
"From the records, Sarah's death affected Mrs. Jacobson quite strongly," Giles said stiffly. "She seems at the time of writing to be in a state of shock."
"Oh," Willow said quietly.
"She writes a week later that a young man from a neighbouring village was found dead, in very similar circumstances. His name was David Baker."
"He went after the Desuin alone?" Willow said, reaching for the diary.
"It seems so," Giles said.
"You know, I've gotta go," Buffy said suddenly, pushing her chair back with a squeak and scrabbling for her jacket.
"Buffy ..." Willow said.
"I'm fine," Buffy assured her with a false smile, "just want to be somewhere - away."
With that, she ran out of the room. A moment later, they heard the shop door slam.
Giles sighed and drummed his fingers on the table.
"I think she'd gotten kind of attached to them," Willow said sadly, flipping over a couple of pages of the Watcher's Diary.
"It's often difficult for a Slayer to hear about the deaths of the others," Giles said blankly.
"I can't say I love it," Willow said softly.
"No," Giles agreed equally softly, "neither do I."
* * * * *
Buffy lay in her bed, cuddling the duvet to herself. She hoped she wouldn't dream tonight.
* * * * *
"Buffy! Buffy!" Buffy rolled over blearily, squinting up at her roomate.
"What?"
"You've got to get up," Willow insisted, stripping the covers off her. Buffy yelped and grabbed for them fruitlessly.
"Fine," she grumbled, swinging her legs over the bed and standing up smoothly.
"Did you dream?" Willow asked hesitantly.
"No," Buffy said, stopping just by the door. "I'm not sure whether I'm glad about that or not."
"I read some of that diary yesterday," Willow ventured.
"And?" Buffy asked, curious.
"Sarah was a little rebellious, but a good Slayer," Willow said, "she was pretty smart, listened to her Watcher most of the time, was liked in her village. And she wrote to her mom and dad and visited them... a lot of Slayers don't do that, you know."
"Well, I guess family must have been important to her," Buffy said, focusing her gaze on the doorknob, then going out the door.
* * * * *
Riley darted through the graveyard, hoping to find Buffy; though the sun wasn't quite down, she sometimes began patrol early. He knew she wasn't entirely happy with him hunting, but he figured by the time he got to her, she wouldn't pursue it - and he was help, even without the Initiative behind him. His hand moved reflexively to his chest, and he grimaced.
He heard a soft sound, and spun around to face the direction he thought it had come from.
"Buffy?" he said, peering through the trees.
The only response he got was a large demon crashing through the forest, belying what he assumed was its former almost-silent approach. It towered inches over him as it slowed some distance away, and Riley groped for a knife, keeping a wary eye on it.
It seemed to be eyeing him back. Then it came to some sort of decision and leapt forward. Riley tried to maneuver away from it, but it corrected itself, apparently effortlessly, and followed him around, punching him powerfully.
Riley grunted and let the punch throw him down, rolling and getting up again. He and the creature circled each other.
Riley saw the gleaming sword moments before it whistled down. He dropped desperately to the side, moments away from being cleaved in two from head to torso.
Realising he was outmatched, he scrambled up and took off in the direction of the magic shop.
* * * * *
Riley burst into the shop and swung immediately around to the window, looking intently out of the glass, sweeping his gaze around slowly.
"You know, most people window-shop from the other side of the glass," Anya remarked idly, watching his strange behaviour.
"I might have been followed by a demon," he said quickly, still scanning.
"And you led it here?!" Anya said in dismay.
"Closest place," he returned.
"Well, if it breaks anything, you're buying," she warned seriously.
"It's okay, I don't think it followed me," Riley reported, coming away from the window.
"Good," Anya said. Riley came over and leaned on the cash desk where she was working. "Was there something else?" she enquired.
"Is Buffy here?" he said.
"No," Anya said flatly. "Now go away, I'm busy."
"Thanks, Anya," Riley said, amused.
He checked the back anyway, and saw Willow sitting poring over a book.
"Hey, Willow," he said, entering.
She looked up, "Hi, Riley."
"What are you doing?" he asked, going over to her.
She held up the book she was reading for his perusal. "This is the diary of the Watcher of one of the Slayers that Buffy's been dreaming about." She grinned, "If you made any kind of sense of that."
"Buffy's been dreaming about other Slayers?" he asked.
"Well, yeah," she said, "you didn't know?"
"I knew she was having bad dreams," he defended himself, "she just didn't tell me what they were of exactly." He debated with himself for a moment, then asked, "Is that the only reason she's been avoiding me?"
"She's been avoiding you?" Willow echoed questioningly.
"She's okay during the day," he said, "and then ... she's reluctant to share a bed with me."
Willow blushed.
"Sorry," he said, grinning.
"It's okay," she said. "I'm sure it's just the dreams, Riley. She doesn't want to disturb your sleeping."
"But it's okay to wake you up in the dorm?" he asked, only half-joking.
She gave him a half-smile, and he got up.
Seeing a slight stiffness, she said, "Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, "I got jumped by a demon."
"What kind of demon?" she asked with concern, getting up and going over to the books.
He followed, "Big, blueish, sword, scary."
He wasn't prepared for the intensity of her reaction. She whipped her head around to look at him, than started to purposefully sift through the books littering the desk. She found one, with a small sound of triumph, and opened it, flicking through the pages until she found what she wanted. She showed him a painting, "Is this it?"
"Yeah, that's it," he said cheerfully, "what is it?"
She stared at the page with a look he couldn't interpret.
"It's a Desuin demon."
* * * * *
"Do you think it's *the* Desuin demon?" Buffy asked Willow.
"I don't know, Buffy," she replied, shrugging. "It'd be an awfully big coincidence, what with you having the dreams now, and then it turning up ..."
"And I don't believe in coincidence," Buffy reminded her glumly.
"I do," Giles said, sitting down across from them with a book in hand. He leaned over and fixed Buffy with a keen stare, "But I don't believe that this is a coincidence."
"Explain," she said slowly, not liking his manner.
He opened the book at an appropriate page and began to read, tonelessly: "The one that was assassinated shall be Chosen again; and chosen again by the same that brought her down once. The Relentless One shall come after the gift, and that sight shall show them the fate of the first and of the second - same ends for those tempered of the same and loving the same, and yet the millennial stars are between them."
He cleared his throat. "There is a little more, but that, I feel, is the significant portion."
"Signifying ... what?" Buffy wanted to know.
He swallowed, and his eyes met hers.
"From the wording, it would appear to," he took a deep breath, "foresee your death, Buffy."
"Not really, why?" she shouted back, her voice muffled in the velvet cloth she was arranging on a display table.
He came and stood in the doorway between the shop floor and back, watching her build the display with a critical eye.
"Put the crystal balls behind the Oflagean box," he directed.
"No. I'm a girl. I do things like displays," she said impatiently, nudging the crystal balls to show off the box behind them a little better. "Is that all you wanted?"
"Oh, no," he said, hefting the book he carried. He brought it over to her and flipped to a picture, showing her the demon it depicted. "Do you recognise this? There's a picture but no name or information."
She took the book away from him and looked at the picture, thinking for a moment.
"It's a Desuin demon."
"Desuin?" Giles said, faintly recognising the name.
"Yeah," Anya said, quickly growing bored, "big as assassins back around the middle of the millennium. Not so many around now. Or, possibly any."
"Assassins," Giles muttered, "thank you." He returned to the back. Anya watched him bump into the cash desk on his way out.
* * * * *
Buffy wandered into her dormroom and headed over to her closet, selecting a blue sweat top and matching pants to train in.
"Did you get the message?" Willow said, coming in behind her.
Buffy looked over her shoulder, noting for the first time the blinking red light on the answering machine. "Feel free," she said, scrutinising the top for marks.
Willow pressed play and the message ran back.
"Hello, Buffy, it's Giles. I believe I've found Sarah, if you want to come to the shop."
Buffy slowed in her actions and looked at the machine, suddenly wondering if she really wanted to know the details of this girl's life. Or, more specifically, her death.
"Want me to come with?" Willow offered.
Buffy smiled at the redhead gratefully, "Yeah. Thanks."
* * * * *
"Sarah Madison," Giles said, placing a volume of the Watcher's Diaries in front of them. "Called in England in 1675. Her Watcher was named Catherine Jacobson."
"But, the dream," Buffy started.
"Her married name," Giles said, overriding her, "Catherine's husband was one Oliver Jacobson."
"Anything on David?" Buffy said, pacified.
Giles cleared his throat. "There is only one mention in what I've read. It would appear that Catherine was not aware of Sarah's... ah... relationship with him."
"So what was the mention?" Buffy asked.
Giles sat down, "Catherine writes of Sarah's brush with a Desuin demon, a type of supernatural assassin. I believe that is what you dreamt last night. Three nights later, she makes a brief note that Sarah has been killed, and that there is no immediately obvious cause of death."
"A brief note?" Willow said, upset, "her Slayer dies and she writes a brief note?"
"From the records, Sarah's death affected Mrs. Jacobson quite strongly," Giles said stiffly. "She seems at the time of writing to be in a state of shock."
"Oh," Willow said quietly.
"She writes a week later that a young man from a neighbouring village was found dead, in very similar circumstances. His name was David Baker."
"He went after the Desuin alone?" Willow said, reaching for the diary.
"It seems so," Giles said.
"You know, I've gotta go," Buffy said suddenly, pushing her chair back with a squeak and scrabbling for her jacket.
"Buffy ..." Willow said.
"I'm fine," Buffy assured her with a false smile, "just want to be somewhere - away."
With that, she ran out of the room. A moment later, they heard the shop door slam.
Giles sighed and drummed his fingers on the table.
"I think she'd gotten kind of attached to them," Willow said sadly, flipping over a couple of pages of the Watcher's Diary.
"It's often difficult for a Slayer to hear about the deaths of the others," Giles said blankly.
"I can't say I love it," Willow said softly.
"No," Giles agreed equally softly, "neither do I."
* * * * *
Buffy lay in her bed, cuddling the duvet to herself. She hoped she wouldn't dream tonight.
* * * * *
"Buffy! Buffy!" Buffy rolled over blearily, squinting up at her roomate.
"What?"
"You've got to get up," Willow insisted, stripping the covers off her. Buffy yelped and grabbed for them fruitlessly.
"Fine," she grumbled, swinging her legs over the bed and standing up smoothly.
"Did you dream?" Willow asked hesitantly.
"No," Buffy said, stopping just by the door. "I'm not sure whether I'm glad about that or not."
"I read some of that diary yesterday," Willow ventured.
"And?" Buffy asked, curious.
"Sarah was a little rebellious, but a good Slayer," Willow said, "she was pretty smart, listened to her Watcher most of the time, was liked in her village. And she wrote to her mom and dad and visited them... a lot of Slayers don't do that, you know."
"Well, I guess family must have been important to her," Buffy said, focusing her gaze on the doorknob, then going out the door.
* * * * *
Riley darted through the graveyard, hoping to find Buffy; though the sun wasn't quite down, she sometimes began patrol early. He knew she wasn't entirely happy with him hunting, but he figured by the time he got to her, she wouldn't pursue it - and he was help, even without the Initiative behind him. His hand moved reflexively to his chest, and he grimaced.
He heard a soft sound, and spun around to face the direction he thought it had come from.
"Buffy?" he said, peering through the trees.
The only response he got was a large demon crashing through the forest, belying what he assumed was its former almost-silent approach. It towered inches over him as it slowed some distance away, and Riley groped for a knife, keeping a wary eye on it.
It seemed to be eyeing him back. Then it came to some sort of decision and leapt forward. Riley tried to maneuver away from it, but it corrected itself, apparently effortlessly, and followed him around, punching him powerfully.
Riley grunted and let the punch throw him down, rolling and getting up again. He and the creature circled each other.
Riley saw the gleaming sword moments before it whistled down. He dropped desperately to the side, moments away from being cleaved in two from head to torso.
Realising he was outmatched, he scrambled up and took off in the direction of the magic shop.
* * * * *
Riley burst into the shop and swung immediately around to the window, looking intently out of the glass, sweeping his gaze around slowly.
"You know, most people window-shop from the other side of the glass," Anya remarked idly, watching his strange behaviour.
"I might have been followed by a demon," he said quickly, still scanning.
"And you led it here?!" Anya said in dismay.
"Closest place," he returned.
"Well, if it breaks anything, you're buying," she warned seriously.
"It's okay, I don't think it followed me," Riley reported, coming away from the window.
"Good," Anya said. Riley came over and leaned on the cash desk where she was working. "Was there something else?" she enquired.
"Is Buffy here?" he said.
"No," Anya said flatly. "Now go away, I'm busy."
"Thanks, Anya," Riley said, amused.
He checked the back anyway, and saw Willow sitting poring over a book.
"Hey, Willow," he said, entering.
She looked up, "Hi, Riley."
"What are you doing?" he asked, going over to her.
She held up the book she was reading for his perusal. "This is the diary of the Watcher of one of the Slayers that Buffy's been dreaming about." She grinned, "If you made any kind of sense of that."
"Buffy's been dreaming about other Slayers?" he asked.
"Well, yeah," she said, "you didn't know?"
"I knew she was having bad dreams," he defended himself, "she just didn't tell me what they were of exactly." He debated with himself for a moment, then asked, "Is that the only reason she's been avoiding me?"
"She's been avoiding you?" Willow echoed questioningly.
"She's okay during the day," he said, "and then ... she's reluctant to share a bed with me."
Willow blushed.
"Sorry," he said, grinning.
"It's okay," she said. "I'm sure it's just the dreams, Riley. She doesn't want to disturb your sleeping."
"But it's okay to wake you up in the dorm?" he asked, only half-joking.
She gave him a half-smile, and he got up.
Seeing a slight stiffness, she said, "Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, "I got jumped by a demon."
"What kind of demon?" she asked with concern, getting up and going over to the books.
He followed, "Big, blueish, sword, scary."
He wasn't prepared for the intensity of her reaction. She whipped her head around to look at him, than started to purposefully sift through the books littering the desk. She found one, with a small sound of triumph, and opened it, flicking through the pages until she found what she wanted. She showed him a painting, "Is this it?"
"Yeah, that's it," he said cheerfully, "what is it?"
She stared at the page with a look he couldn't interpret.
"It's a Desuin demon."
* * * * *
"Do you think it's *the* Desuin demon?" Buffy asked Willow.
"I don't know, Buffy," she replied, shrugging. "It'd be an awfully big coincidence, what with you having the dreams now, and then it turning up ..."
"And I don't believe in coincidence," Buffy reminded her glumly.
"I do," Giles said, sitting down across from them with a book in hand. He leaned over and fixed Buffy with a keen stare, "But I don't believe that this is a coincidence."
"Explain," she said slowly, not liking his manner.
He opened the book at an appropriate page and began to read, tonelessly: "The one that was assassinated shall be Chosen again; and chosen again by the same that brought her down once. The Relentless One shall come after the gift, and that sight shall show them the fate of the first and of the second - same ends for those tempered of the same and loving the same, and yet the millennial stars are between them."
He cleared his throat. "There is a little more, but that, I feel, is the significant portion."
"Signifying ... what?" Buffy wanted to know.
He swallowed, and his eyes met hers.
"From the wording, it would appear to," he took a deep breath, "foresee your death, Buffy."