Part 10: There's a New King In Town
#
Rupert Giles was up late, going over the latest information Buffy had apprised him off. They had spent quite a few hours these last few weeks theorizing about these black-clad commandos who kept popping up in Sunnydale to make life a little bit more difficult for the local demonkind. None of their theories had been validated so far, but they were a bit smarter now than they had been yesterday
Riley Finn, Buffy's psych TA, was one of the commandos.
Truth to tell Giles was a bit angry at his Slayer for simply spilling her secret to the young man, but he had to admit that she usually had good instincts when it came who to trust and who not to. Besides, seeing as Riley had already seen her perform superhuman feats in battle against the Gentlemen creatures there really was not that much left to hide and it was better this way. God alone knew what he and his associates might have tried to do if he had thought her to be some sort of demon.
Something else was preoccupying Buffy apart from that, though. Giles knew her long enough to recognize that. Buffy was not a good liar and neither was she particularly proficient at keeping secrets from him. The last time she had been preoccupied like this she had hidden Angel from them, shortly after his return from Hell. Maybe it had to do with Angel again? It had started after she returned from Los Angeles after all.
He banished those thoughts from his mind. True, he had been very angry with her for concealing Angel's presence, but he himself had done worse less than a year ago when he had drugged her for the Council's stupid test. No, he had to trust her to know what was right and had promised himself never to second-guess her again unless he had something concrete to worry about.
For the moment he should concentrate on those commandos Riley worked for. Maybe Willow could find out something by way of her computer skills. She had tried before, but without any kind of lead to start with she had come up empty. Maybe she could take a look at Riley's personal files and then ...
The ringing of the phone distracted him from his train of thoughts. Picking up the receiver he expected Buffy or one of her friends to call him. Or maybe that nice young woman he had met a few nights ago when he had been playing guitar at the coffee bar.
He certainly did not expect to hear the voice of his former boss on the other end of the line.
"Hello, Rupert," Quentin Travers said.
"Quentin. This is something of a surprise."
"I know. Listen, Rupert, there is something you should be aware of. Something concerning the Slayer."
Giles sat down on the couch with the receiver still in hand, an angry frown beginning to form on his face.
"She no longer works for you, Quentin. I had thought she made that quite clear."
"She did, yes. This is not about her quitting the Council, though I guess you can imagine that no one around here is particularly happy about her decision."
"You have no one but yourself to blame."
"Rupert, please! Let us put our animosities aside for the moment. Something rather more important has come up with."
Giles sighed, leaning back. He had a lot of problems with Quentin Travers and the older man's methods and opinions regarding the fight against the dark, but they were still fighting on the same side, more or less.
"Okay, I'm listening."
"How much do you know about the Huntsman, Rupert?"
Giles frowned. The Huntsman? He dimly remembered having read something about an entity called the Huntsman once. Must have been a long time ago, as the memory eluded him.
"I've heard the name before, but I don't really know ..."
"I will be sending you the necessary documents, Rupert. We are ... we are not quite certain how big of an emergency this actually is, but we want to be prepared for the worst."
"The worst? Quentin, what is this about? What is the Huntsman and why does it concern us here in Sunnydale?"
There was a moment's hesitation on the other end of the line.
"The Council has decided," Quentin finally said, his voice making clear that 'the Council' did not include him in this particular instance, "as a reaction to the Slayer's desertion, to activate a new supernatural agent to aid our cause. The Huntsman is that agent. Unfortunately Jackson King, the host of the Huntsman, has disappeared several days ago. We ... we believe that he will be heading for Sunnydale to ... meet the Slayer."
For a moment Giles was speechless, just trying to assimilate all this information. The Council had created some alternative to the Slayer? How? And they had lost him?
"Why ... why would he be coming here?"
"I am afraid there is no short version to this story, Rupert. You will be receiving all the relevant information by express mail no later than tomorrow, it will answer all questions you have. Just keep one thing in mind! The Slayer and the Huntsman must not meet!"
"Why ...?"
"It's essential, Rupert! Jackson King must not find Buffy Summers, is that clear? The results could be ... catastrophic."
Giles had a hundred more questions to ask, but Quentin Travers hung up on him. For a moment the former Watcher positively seethed with anger at the arrogance of his former boss, still ordering him around as if he had not fired him about eight months ago.
There had been true desperation in Quentin's voice, though. The older Watcher was genuinely afraid of something, that much was clear.
Giles looked at his watch and sighed. He doubted he would be able to find much sleep now, not with Quentin stirring him up like he just had.
"The Huntsman," he mumbled, racking his brain to remember where he had read that before. Approaching his book shelf, the one that held all the books they had saved from the destruction of Sunnydale High, he brushed his fingers across the leather-bound book backs.
"A supernatural agent," he continued mumbling to himself. "Something the Council might use as an alternative to the Slayer."
He finally selected a few volumes and settled back down on his couch to read.
#
The early morning bus pulled into the Sunnydale Greyhound station and came to a stop. Grabbing his bag from the empty seat beside him the young man got up, pausing after his first step off the bus to draw in the air of his new home.
Yes, this was definitely the right place. Everything inside him was screaming that it was so, his senses wide open and alert to draw in the multitude of sensations this town had to offer. So much evil gathered in so small a place.
So much to destroy.
Jackson King closed his eyes and concentrated on all the new senses he had come to possess just a few short weeks ago. Every night since then he had had strange dreams, visions that finally pulled him away from the Watchers and here to America, to this town, to the blonde girl he somehow knew lived here.
The Slayer. She was here, there was no doubt about it. He had to find her, had to be with her. He was not sure why, not sure what it was that connected them, but neither did he care. He was drawn to her like a moth to the flame and now, with her presence singing in his blood, he felt stronger and more powerful than ever.
Opening his eyes again he laid out his plans. First he would get a place to rest, a motel would suffice. Then, as soon as the sun went down, he would go out and find her.
#
Across town Buffy tossed and turned in her sleep, her dreams invaded by a vision of a young man with short brown hair who looked at her with an intensity that made her skin burn, that caused things low in her body to tighten with anticipation.
When she finally woke she was drenched with sweat and shivering so violently that Willow was by her side in an instant, hugging her close and asking whether she was all right.
It was a question Buffy could not answer.
TO BE CONTINUED
#
Rupert Giles was up late, going over the latest information Buffy had apprised him off. They had spent quite a few hours these last few weeks theorizing about these black-clad commandos who kept popping up in Sunnydale to make life a little bit more difficult for the local demonkind. None of their theories had been validated so far, but they were a bit smarter now than they had been yesterday
Riley Finn, Buffy's psych TA, was one of the commandos.
Truth to tell Giles was a bit angry at his Slayer for simply spilling her secret to the young man, but he had to admit that she usually had good instincts when it came who to trust and who not to. Besides, seeing as Riley had already seen her perform superhuman feats in battle against the Gentlemen creatures there really was not that much left to hide and it was better this way. God alone knew what he and his associates might have tried to do if he had thought her to be some sort of demon.
Something else was preoccupying Buffy apart from that, though. Giles knew her long enough to recognize that. Buffy was not a good liar and neither was she particularly proficient at keeping secrets from him. The last time she had been preoccupied like this she had hidden Angel from them, shortly after his return from Hell. Maybe it had to do with Angel again? It had started after she returned from Los Angeles after all.
He banished those thoughts from his mind. True, he had been very angry with her for concealing Angel's presence, but he himself had done worse less than a year ago when he had drugged her for the Council's stupid test. No, he had to trust her to know what was right and had promised himself never to second-guess her again unless he had something concrete to worry about.
For the moment he should concentrate on those commandos Riley worked for. Maybe Willow could find out something by way of her computer skills. She had tried before, but without any kind of lead to start with she had come up empty. Maybe she could take a look at Riley's personal files and then ...
The ringing of the phone distracted him from his train of thoughts. Picking up the receiver he expected Buffy or one of her friends to call him. Or maybe that nice young woman he had met a few nights ago when he had been playing guitar at the coffee bar.
He certainly did not expect to hear the voice of his former boss on the other end of the line.
"Hello, Rupert," Quentin Travers said.
"Quentin. This is something of a surprise."
"I know. Listen, Rupert, there is something you should be aware of. Something concerning the Slayer."
Giles sat down on the couch with the receiver still in hand, an angry frown beginning to form on his face.
"She no longer works for you, Quentin. I had thought she made that quite clear."
"She did, yes. This is not about her quitting the Council, though I guess you can imagine that no one around here is particularly happy about her decision."
"You have no one but yourself to blame."
"Rupert, please! Let us put our animosities aside for the moment. Something rather more important has come up with."
Giles sighed, leaning back. He had a lot of problems with Quentin Travers and the older man's methods and opinions regarding the fight against the dark, but they were still fighting on the same side, more or less.
"Okay, I'm listening."
"How much do you know about the Huntsman, Rupert?"
Giles frowned. The Huntsman? He dimly remembered having read something about an entity called the Huntsman once. Must have been a long time ago, as the memory eluded him.
"I've heard the name before, but I don't really know ..."
"I will be sending you the necessary documents, Rupert. We are ... we are not quite certain how big of an emergency this actually is, but we want to be prepared for the worst."
"The worst? Quentin, what is this about? What is the Huntsman and why does it concern us here in Sunnydale?"
There was a moment's hesitation on the other end of the line.
"The Council has decided," Quentin finally said, his voice making clear that 'the Council' did not include him in this particular instance, "as a reaction to the Slayer's desertion, to activate a new supernatural agent to aid our cause. The Huntsman is that agent. Unfortunately Jackson King, the host of the Huntsman, has disappeared several days ago. We ... we believe that he will be heading for Sunnydale to ... meet the Slayer."
For a moment Giles was speechless, just trying to assimilate all this information. The Council had created some alternative to the Slayer? How? And they had lost him?
"Why ... why would he be coming here?"
"I am afraid there is no short version to this story, Rupert. You will be receiving all the relevant information by express mail no later than tomorrow, it will answer all questions you have. Just keep one thing in mind! The Slayer and the Huntsman must not meet!"
"Why ...?"
"It's essential, Rupert! Jackson King must not find Buffy Summers, is that clear? The results could be ... catastrophic."
Giles had a hundred more questions to ask, but Quentin Travers hung up on him. For a moment the former Watcher positively seethed with anger at the arrogance of his former boss, still ordering him around as if he had not fired him about eight months ago.
There had been true desperation in Quentin's voice, though. The older Watcher was genuinely afraid of something, that much was clear.
Giles looked at his watch and sighed. He doubted he would be able to find much sleep now, not with Quentin stirring him up like he just had.
"The Huntsman," he mumbled, racking his brain to remember where he had read that before. Approaching his book shelf, the one that held all the books they had saved from the destruction of Sunnydale High, he brushed his fingers across the leather-bound book backs.
"A supernatural agent," he continued mumbling to himself. "Something the Council might use as an alternative to the Slayer."
He finally selected a few volumes and settled back down on his couch to read.
#
The early morning bus pulled into the Sunnydale Greyhound station and came to a stop. Grabbing his bag from the empty seat beside him the young man got up, pausing after his first step off the bus to draw in the air of his new home.
Yes, this was definitely the right place. Everything inside him was screaming that it was so, his senses wide open and alert to draw in the multitude of sensations this town had to offer. So much evil gathered in so small a place.
So much to destroy.
Jackson King closed his eyes and concentrated on all the new senses he had come to possess just a few short weeks ago. Every night since then he had had strange dreams, visions that finally pulled him away from the Watchers and here to America, to this town, to the blonde girl he somehow knew lived here.
The Slayer. She was here, there was no doubt about it. He had to find her, had to be with her. He was not sure why, not sure what it was that connected them, but neither did he care. He was drawn to her like a moth to the flame and now, with her presence singing in his blood, he felt stronger and more powerful than ever.
Opening his eyes again he laid out his plans. First he would get a place to rest, a motel would suffice. Then, as soon as the sun went down, he would go out and find her.
#
Across town Buffy tossed and turned in her sleep, her dreams invaded by a vision of a young man with short brown hair who looked at her with an intensity that made her skin burn, that caused things low in her body to tighten with anticipation.
When she finally woke she was drenched with sweat and shivering so violently that Willow was by her side in an instant, hugging her close and asking whether she was all right.
It was a question Buffy could not answer.
TO BE CONTINUED