Disclaimer: see prologue

Author's notes: apologies for not translating bits of French in the previous chapter. The main essential translation would be 'Tueuse' which literally means 'Female Killer' (nice, eh?!) but is the word used for 'Slayer' on the French-dubbed versions of BtVS and also in the French BtVS books. So now you know.

Chapter 5

It turned out that due to continued research on the body left outside Headquarters, Quentin Travers was too busy to go to the airport to pick up Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles, and so it fell to Mike to be their welcoming party. Accompanied once again by Steven, he was at Heathrow early and waiting in the arrivals hall. Steven was fidgety and nervous and kept disappearing to walk around the hall, before coming back and standing around for another five minutes, then going off again. Mike waited patiently, running through the facts about the girl which the Council had been able to ascertain.

The Council's liaison with the Metropolitan Police had turned up a missing persons report filed the previous evening - a group of friends had been out celebrating a birthday in a bar, and one of the girls had disappeared with a man. "About twenty," had been his description, "with long dark hair and a nice smile." At closing time she had not returned, and calling her mobile telephone had got no answer. Her friends called the police and filed the report, and now the liaison had come to Headquarters early in the morning, accompanied by one of the group. Her eyes had been grey with lack of sleep, and the identification had been positive. Leonie Cooper, aged nineteen, a student at University College. The friend, emotional and shocked, was able to answer very few of the Council's questions, and had been taken away shortly after the identification.

Mike frowned as he thought about it. To his mind the act made very little sense. The Council were more interested in the academic side of the case, the potential for research, and although Travers had agreed to the lockdown of Headquarters during night hours, Mike thought his lack of concern telling.

The tannoy system interrupted his thoughts as it announced the arrival of Buffy and Giles's flight from Los Angeles, and Steven came hurrying back from his latest walk around the hall.

They had another fifteen minutes of waiting before the first passengers began to emerge from Customs, and it was several more before Mike spied the small blonde head.

"Buffy!" he called, and she heard him and smiled broadly. Steven hopped from foot to foot.

Pushing their way through the crowds, the Slayer and her Watcher, both carrying a suitcase, came up to Mike and Steven.

"Hey!" said Buffy, cheerfully. She dropped her case and gave Mike a careful hug. "How're the arms?"

"Not much different," Mike replied. "Giles."

"Good to see you again," Giles said, his brow creased with worry.

"This is Steven Platt," Mike introduced his companion. "He's a trainee. Steven, Rupert Giles, Buffy Summers."

Steven shook hands with them both, his face red. "Honoured," he managed to stammer out, and Buffy gave Mike a look. Mike returned it with a smile. "Can I carry your case, Miss Summers?" Steven said, and Buffy grinned.

"Carry Giles's. No, honestly, I'm fine," she added, as Steven began to protest.

"Slayer strength," Mike reminded his companion, and the young Watcher blushed bright red and picked up Giles's case without another word. They set off towards the car park. "How was the flight?" Mike asked.

"Long," said Giles.

"Good film though," Buffy said.

"What about the ... I mean, how are things at Headquarters?" Giles questioned, cleaning his glasses as they walked.

"Not wonderful," Mike said, and updated them. "The Breton obviously picked her up."

"I can't believe Spike's doing this!" Buffy exclaimed. "Well, I guess I can, 'cos of him being a vampire and all, but still I can't. He's been all right recently."

"Buffy, I warned you about Spike even when he was staying with me," Giles said gently. "He might have a chip, but he's still a vampire - and blood- ties go deep with them."

"He helped me, last time," Buffy objected. "He was useful. And he's killed things for me."

"He's William the Bloody," said Giles, as they got into a lift. "He's killed two Slayers."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I know. This sucks."

"It's pretty bad," Mike agreed. They subsided into silence, Buffy twiddling a lock of hair around her finger. Mike was reminded again how fragile and young she looked, and wondered what Steven was thinking. The trainee Watcher looked more awestruck than anything else, and as the lift doors opened, he stood back to allow the others to pass first. Mike hung back and murmured, "They're normal people, Steven. Nothing to be scared of."

"She's the Slayer!" Steven said. "The Slayer!"

"With Slayer hearing," Buffy said, turning round. "Mike's right, y'know. Just me. Nothing to be scared of."

Steven nodded, his cheeks flushing red again.

In the car Buffy sat looking out of the window with interest; interest which got keener as they drew closer to Headquarters. She seemed disappointed they did not have to go through central London in order to get there, but Mike assured her they would have to do so at some point, and she cheered up again. Giles, meanwhile, said nothing.

At the gates Steven showed his pass and the security guard on duty let them through. Buffy squeaked when the house came into view. "It's huge! And old! Giles, you never said!"

"Was there ever any need to say?" Giles questioned. "I hate the place."

The car drew to a halt, and Buffy jumped out and stood with her hands on her hips looking up at Headquarters. "Well, I love it."

"Shame about the people inside," said Giles under his breath. Mike gave him a sympathetic grin.

"If it's any help, I'm on your side here, Giles."

"It may help," Giles said.

"I'll deliver your bags to your room," Steven said.

"Thanks," Buffy said.

"It's my pleasure, Miss Summers," the trainee replied, blushing yet again. Buffy favoured him with a smile and he hurried away.

"I think you've got Steven on your side too," Mike observed, laughing, and thinking how good it felt to laugh. Buffy shook her head.

"Guys. Honestly. Though I do like the accent."

"You're the one with the accent here," Giles pointed out. "Come on, then, let's face the music."

With a crunch of gravel Steven drove the car away to park it in the garages behind the house, and Mike led the way inside.

Buffy's eyes opened even wider at the sight of the entrance hall with its high ceiling and imposing staircase, and she turned around on the spot to view it properly. Giles put his hands in his pockets in a resigned manner. Setting off towards the room set aside for research, Mike said, "This way."

Slowly Buffy followed him, her eyes darting around looking at the portraits on the walls. "Are these all old Watchers?" she asked.

"Mostly," Giles said. "People like Travers, and a few of Watchers who actually went to look after Slayers."

Her forehead creased. "And are there any of the Slayers?"

"No," Mike answered. "I'm afraid not."

"That," said Buffy, "isn't right."

Giles pushed open the door of the research room for them, and Mike led the way in. As they entered, the murmur of talk stopped entirely, and the eyes of every Watcher in the room went to Buffy.

Quentin Travers detached himself from a group bent over a table and crossed to them. "Welcome to Headquarters, Miss Summers, Mr Giles."

Buffy had become stiff and formal now they were inside the room. "I'm here to deal with the problem," she said briefly. "So give."

Mike looked at the floor to avoid laughing at Travers's face. Travers himself sniffed disapprovingly. "I imagine Mr Fletcher has already filled you in on our progress to date. In fact I am firmly confident we could solve this without you, Miss Summers ..."

"Rubbish!" said Giles, cutting in. "You haven't a hope in hell of solving it without her. Didn't you listen to anything Mr Fletcher told you?"

"We listened and we judged, thank you, Mr Giles," Travers said stiffly. "First, in fact, I have some news for Mr Fletcher."

Looking up, Mike said, "What?" A sudden foreboding washed over him.

"Your apartment was broken into last night." Travers gestured a policeman forwards. "This is Michael Fletcher, Constable."

"Constable Singh," the policeman introduced himself. "One of your neighbours alerted us, Mr Fletcher. The apartment's a mess and the door was broken down. We can't tell if anything was taken."

"There was nothing to take, really," Mike said. "I mean, I had a television, and a radio, but nothing else of any value." His mind was running over anything he had of possible worth to the vampires.

"The television has gone, then," the policeman said. "We're fairly certain it's just a common case of theft. If you have time, you'd be best going over to check things out. Call if there's anything else missing." He held up a card, and Giles helpfully took it for Mike.

"Thanks," Mike said, vaguely. Constable Singh nodded and disappeared, with a brief word to Travers first.

"You can go over there later this afternoon if you like," Travers offered. Mike shrugged.

"I don't know, sir. It all depends on whether it's a nasty coincidence or something more ... sinister."

"They'd not have been able to get into your apartment," said Travers. "It has to be the work of humans."

"Or other demons," Buffy suggested.

Travers looked at her askance. "I beg your pardon?"

"In Sunnydale," she said, "there was like this chain of command." She indicated with her hands. "Top level, bad-ass vamps like - well, like Angelus." A shadow crossed the Slayer's face. "Then, minion vamps. The sort nobody minded getting rid of. The ones the other vamps used to do their dirty work. And other demons, the sort that sunlight doesn't hurt."

Giles was smiling broadly, Mike saw, a smile full of pride. However Travers looked unconvinced.

"I see. So you think that in a matter of days Angelus could have organised the huge numbers of demons in London into a kind of private army?"

"He could easily have done so," said Giles. "I'd have thought, Travers, that with Mike's testimony and all the volumes and volumes of information you have on these vampires you would have learnt never to underestimate them."

"What about overestimating them?" Travers returned. "I believe that to be just as dangerous."

Buffy, her arms folded across her chest, shook her head. "We're talking about four vampires here, Mr Travers. One who's killed two Slayers, and we should be really glad he has a chip in his head. One who hung with the Master before I killed him. One who just seems to take everything in his stride. And one who nearly sent the world to Hell."

"No thanks to you, Miss Summers," Travers remarked, and Mike saw Giles grit his teeth.

"If it hadn't been for me, nobody would have stopped him," Buffy retorted. "Right. Now let's stop chatting about nothing, and you tell me what's happening here. Someone can take Mike to check out his apartment while I find out what the situation is, and then when he gets back we can form a decent plan of action."

She smiled and walked past Travers towards the groups of researchers, leaving all three men in her wake - Mike and Giles sharing a smile, and Travers open-mouthed and gaping.