Declan rubbed his head as he opened his eyes to a foggy world above him. Moving slightly, a sharp pain made its way through his back and he decided that not moving was the best answer. The desk had wedged itself on top of him and was having a large numbing effect on his disjointed body. Moving his head from side to side, he looked down and to find Hope lying awkwardly on top of him, squashed too, under they giant slab of wood. Taking off his glasses, he wriggled around slightly, trying to squeeze himself from under its grasp, without any success. A small moan escaped from Hopes mouth, causing Declan to stop.

"Are you alright?"

Hope moved slowly mumbling as she did before she opened her eyes, realising she had parked herself on top of the Anthropology professor. "Crap…" she moaned, laying her head back on his stomach.

"I'll say." He replied, moving some more. "Are you hurt?"

Hope shook her head before trying to squeeze herself from her position on top of him. "I'm fine." This was accompanied by a wince in which she decided to stay planted on top of him. "Are you?"

Declan wiped his eyes with his hand. "Nope, but I think we're stuck."

"You reckon?"

Declan winced as he tried to pull himself from under her and the desk. Without success again, he stayed put, sighing before continuing. "What was that all about? They took the key."

"You wanted to know why I wanted that key?" Hope answered, talking into his stomach before pointing around the room. "That's why! Bad bad people."

"Did they have anything to do with the vampires?"

Hope lifted her head up off his stomach and squinted at him through her crooked glasses. "What do you know about vampires?"

"Ah huh! So they do exist!"

"I never said that."

"Well, what do you know about vampires?" Declan asked defiantly, pushing himself up and leaning back on his elbows.

Hope frowned. "I asked you first."

"Those guys that turn to dust. They're vampires. Obviously that dude knows you're involved with that stuff. Slayer?"

Hope groaned a little. She had no excuses. "You shouldn't go poking your nose in. It's dangerous."

"So you do admit it. That's what they said to that other girl too."

"What?"

"Slayer. As in what? A vampire slayer?"

"You just don't give up do you?" Hope shifted her position, untangling her legs from his and straightening her glasses so she could see him properly. Her black curls fell messily to one side of her head, that teamed with her thin glasses it gave her the casual intellectual look.

Declan smiled cutely. "Never. Though I do think we should get that desk off you."

Hope nodded. "I think that's best. Though I will admit this is quite cosy. Don't you think?"

Declan smiled wryly. "Cosy, but uncomfortable."

"So how do you suppose we get this desk off us?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. I'm sure someone will come…"

"Just like someone decided to come see what the racket was when we were being attacked by black knights. You live in a dreamland."

"Thanks Hope. You make me feel a lot better."

"What do you propose I do Rupert?" Michael asked, pacing up and down Giles lounge room. Giles just sat at his kitchen table, cup of tea in front of him, watching the Australian wear a hole in his carpet. The some other council members stood casually in lounge room, offering opinions every now and then in between sips of tea.

Giles sighed. "Talk to her. Try and understand her side."

"She doesn't have a side Rupert. She's eighteen years old. She doesn't know what she's doing?"

"And neither do you by the look of it."

"Listen, Rupert. You know what has to be done." Quentin, his grey haired superior, reminded him from across the table. He looked seriously across that the watcher, tweed clad suit hugging his tightly around his expanding middle, waiting for Giles' reaction.

"No I don't Quentin. This was her choice. She is not some experiment that you can keep prodding. This is her life. Her baby's life."

"An unwanted baby Rupert." Michael reminded, stopping his pacing and turning towards him. "It's a large mess that should never have happened."

"Well, that's where I think you're wrong Michael." Giles said calmly, taking a sip of his tea before continuing with his point. "Why did it happened Michael? Both you and I would like to know. But she's the one who questions it everyday, and will do for the rest of her life."

"And you think we don't Rupert?" Quentin asked, gazing at the Englishman intently. The watcher just bowed his head as he listened, knowing no matter what he said, it would do no good. The other gentleman listened intently, wanting to learn as much as they could from this unusual situation. A situation no one in the history of the watchers council had ever observed. "This shouldn't have happened. You and I agree on that. But the good thing is that there can be something done to fix it."

Giles raised his gaze to meet Quentins. They met with equal defiance but only one knew he had the power. "Now that's something that you and I disagree on. It doesn't need fixing. Because it's not broken."

"The council have come to a decision Rupert." Quentin continued in his calm, English manner. "It will be done."

"You know you can't do that."

"Rupert, she's my slayer. It's my decision. And it WILL be done." Michael informed, not moving from his position in front of Giles.

"But she's also your daughter Michael. Remember that." Giles replied.

"She's my slayer. Just look after your own." Michael looked around the room to the group of Englishmen, all tweed clad and formal, standing around patiently. "When will we start?"

Quentin looked at his watch and sucked in a deep breath. "Well, why don't we have a chat now." He turned to Giles who sat sullenly in his chair, his gaze still angrily frozen upon Michael. "You said the university?"

Giles didn't respond.

Quentin nodded and turned back to his watchers. "The university. We'll go now and see if we can catch her." He got up from his chair and watched the group of men file from Giles' apartment. "Rupert… you know why."

Giles didn't move his gaze from the space where Michael had been standing. His voice was a low, hoarse whisper. "You have no right Quentin."

Quentin shook his head, patting Rupert on the back before leaving towards the door. Only a hideous stench was left as Quentin closed the door behind him.