Four hours later, Kate wearily pulled herself into her room. Much though she enjoyed talking with Travers, who had extensive knowledge on just about everything she wanted to know, listening to him blather did tend to give her a headache.
The Watchers themselves had all been working feverishly to try and eradicate all the remaining vampires in Sunnydale before the Master came back- if he ever did.
Kate knew she should be grateful that she didn't have to pull their long hours, carefully scouring every known piece of literature to try to locate a clue on where the Master's location was.
But it didn't help that she felt she was only a lackey to them. They get the info, and let the others like her get dirty doing the job.
Trying to tell herself it didn't matter, she gratefully sank onto her bed. Crackers, cheese and bread had been neatly lined on a tray, and the tray placed on her nightstand.
Leaning back against the headboard, she put some cheese on the bread and took a bit, carefully thinking over what Travers had told her about this evening. She'd long been interested in the study of magick, and been disappointed to find that there weren't many books on the subject.
Most Watchers preferred to specialize in weapons or self-defense; Kate figured this was just another one of her odd quirks that the others laughed over.
She carefully took hold of the folder Quentin had handed her, and pulled out the photo. Rupert Giles, a Watcher who'd come from England to Sunnydale when most of the Watcher's Council had moved here.
She looked at his profile. Studious, intelligent, though slightly rebellious, he apparently had first hand knowledge of magick due to the fact that two of his closest friends, both Watchers themselves, had fallen into the trap of the dark arts.
Kate carefully replaced the photo and profile in the folder, and slid it into her drawer. Travers had told her she could meet this Giles man soon, and she intended to have all her questions ready.
But for now, all she wanted was sleep. Moving the food tray to her desk chair, she was going to get her pajamas on when someone knocked.
She slid to the door, and looked out the peephole. Opening the door, she gave her best don't-disturb-me-for-something-stupid glare at the doctor standing on the other side. The man squirmed under her gaze.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. Lockley, but the prisoner has been asking for you," he stammered out.
Kate crossed her arms over her chest. "And are the prisoners always obeyed?" she snarled, and the man shook his head rapidly.
"No, no, of course not. Just..uh, Sir Travers has requested that you pay a visit to him. He thinks maybe you can get the vampire to talk," he answered, shifting away from the door.
"Oh, he thinks that, does he?" she inquired, realizing that her long-denied period of sleep would have to wait a little longer. "Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes," she snapped, tightly closing the door and leaning back against it.
She knew that somewhere in the guidebook there had to be some sort of rule against interviewing a potentially dangerous vampire while on low sleep.
But she could handle this.