Giles began his efforts in Toronto by trying to learn a little bit about where everything was in the city. Not to the specific level of knowing the precise address of popular clubs, but on the more general level of what certain areas were called, and how to get 'there' from 'here'. Where were there subway stations, or cemeteries? Were there any areas with a particular number of abandoned warehouses or empty factories? He also looked at a museum, justifying that as a small reward for his efforts.
He'd managed to find and speak a bit with Helene Kataloupas, and had concluded that she might very well be a potential Slayer. After putting ice over the black eye that she'd managed to give him, he'd called the Council, informing them of his discoveries and opinions on Helene, adding that there was every chance that she might still be called if something happened. He'd also categorically refused to be her Watcher, claiming a combination of emotional turmoil over Buffy's death and the fact that he still had a list of names to investigate, and could they be absolutely certain they'd only missed one potential? With the sort of punch that young woman had, if she wasn't a potential Slayer, she should be.
With a younger watcher to haul her out of her juvenile delinquent ways. Someone that wouldn't be constantly shocked by her short short hair, the coil of earrings making their way up her ear, the stud in her nose, and the assortment of tattoos over her body. It seemed that he was a bit more conventional than he'd thought in his idea of who he could work with... But that was definitely a girl that would have no problems with the idea of being Chosen to fight. Even if she wasn't the missing potential, a good Watcher could help her make something productive from her life, give her focus, a guideline.
He'd managed to learn a bit more about several of the other names on the list, and had met two others, almost by accident. He could now cross Deanna Manning and Tonya Walters off from his list, certain that neither of them were potential Slayers. He'd had minimal luck with finding some fo the other women, and was starting to remember why he'd been concerned about the whole idea to begin with. At least he'd found a few decent restaurants in this city.
While he'd been able to eliminate a couple of the names from his list purely on the basis of some of the further information that Willow had sent. Sophia Cruz would not be called as a Slayer, not after an accident had left her sufficiently injured that she had a handicapped parking permit and resided in an assisted care facility. Chantelle Tanner had been killed, and so there was no further point in investigating her. But she'd also found three more names to add to his list: Naomi Linton, Tracy Vetter, and Cassandra Martin. Naomi was a nineteen year old university student, Tracy was a twenty six year old police detective, and Cassandra was a twenty two year old martial arts instructor.
After a great deal of frustration, he'd sent an email to Willow, asking if she could find anything that would help him locate any of the remaining names, which he'd sent to her. He hadn't been quite certain what to expect, but had hoped for something more than what he had now.
She'd sent him a rather prompt reply, with addresses for almost half of them, jobs for a few more, and at the bottom of the list was a note - Tracy Vetter was currently in the Toronto General Hospital after being caught in an explosion. She was recovering quite well, and had a record for excellent performance on the job. Willow had also said that weren't good physical skills, rapid recovery, and a tendency to do bravely heroic things traits in a Slayer or potential Slayer?
Giles had been most glad that nobody had been able to see his rather undignified cheer. Finally, not only a promising candidate, but he would be able to find her with no risk of missing her due to work or errands. All he would have to do would be go to the hospital and check on her, that should help establish something. He could even go there this evening, which would lessen the chance of curious relatives, and perhaps he could simply appear to be a doctor, and take a look at her medical charts?
Fortunately, his many painful injuries both as a Watcher in training and as a Watcher, especially since going to Sunnydale had left him quite well acquainted with hospitals. He had no difficulty choosing clothing that would enable him to impersonate a doctor, and minimal difficulty finding the right area of the hospital. The time spent looking for the correct room allowed him to clarify his plans a bit. He would examine her medical charts, attempting to remember anything particularly of interest so that he could ask Willow to look it up. If she was awake, or fairly stable, he could go into the room and take a look at her, perhaps under the pretext of checking her vitals. If there was the opportunity for questions... well, that might be a bit unlikely. Best just get an idea of her condition.
She was the only patient in room 521, and he pulled her chart from the unit beside the door, leafing through the pages of her medical history with an eye for the overall story instead of the little details. No serious illnesses, numerous injuries that seemed to have come from active police work and an active childhood before that, no allergies, didn't smoke... good. Then, he looked at her recent injuries, the ones that had caused her to be here now. Everything had been bruised, burns over large portions of her body, assorted small cuts, a head injury, smoke inhalation... the woman was fortunate to be alive. What on earth had happened to her anyhow?
"Dear me, Miss Vetter, what a mess you've become. Although you do seem to be recovering nicely." The words were a bare whisper, more a vocalization of his thoughts than anything else. He had no idea how rapidly his focus of attention would change in the next few moments.
end part 4.
Natalie had been a bit surprised to meet Vachon on her way to visit Tracy. He'd looked almost flushed, and had been fidgeting a bit. "Something wrong?"
"Just... bad dreams." He'd tried to dismiss the idea, to make light of the matter. "I dreamed that she'd died. Now, I'm a bit anxious to make sure it was just a bad dream. The whole psycho babble nervous thing."
Smiling at him, she'd nodded, understanding the idea of proving that something terrible had only been a dream. "I'm sure that Tracy is just fine..."
Rounding the corner, she saw a man standing by Tracy's door, looking at her medical charts. That might not have been so unusual, except that she'd never seen him before. He was of average height, perhaps in his early forties, light brown hair with a touch of grey... not unattractive, actually. But he wasn't one of the doctors that worked here. "That's not one of her doctors."
Vachon moved with some of that impossible vampire speed, and the man was pinned against the wall, Tracy's chart clattering to the floor before Natalie could even close the distance. She picked up the pages, returning them to the wall.
Whoever the man was, he was being fairly quiet about this, or perhaps Vachon had simply squashed the air out of him. He'd managed to turn his head just enough that neither nose or glasses had been damaged, and appeared to be unarmed. Looking at him, she knew that she'd been correct in thinking that he wasn't one of the staff. He'd pass at a casual glance, but that wasn't quite the right clothing, and there was no name badge.
"Take him into the room. I think we need to find a few answers from this guy." She tried to keep her voice from shaking as her mind assaulted her with flashbacks to the time when she'd been kidnapped by illegal organ harvesters, people who'd decided that she would be excellent spare parts.
They moved into the room quickly, hoping that nobody had heard the charts clattering to the floor. Vachon was still holding the man, but he'd adjusted his grip a bit. Unfortunately, he now had his glowing green gold eyes and sharp teeth, thus causing the whole problem of now the stranger knew that Vachon wasn't normal.
"Who are you?" Vachon's words were almost a growl.
Natalie's own question, while a bit less menacing in tone, was just as demanding. "Why were you looking at her charts?"
The man shifted a little bit, not exactly trying to get away, but in an effort to gain better breathing. "Rupert... Giles. I wanted... to find out something."
"Not a very informative answer, buddy. Why were you looking at her charts? What did you want to learn?" Natalie could feel herself trembling. "And is that name supposed to mean something to us?"
"It is simply... who I am. Formerly a Watcher." He shifted a bit more, looking worriedly at Vachon. "Can I be put back on my feet now?"
Vachon let the man, Rupert Giles, fall to the floor, raising an eyebrow slightly when he regained his balance quickly and didn't fall. "The Council of Watchers?"
The man frowned a bit, trying to straighten his clothing, possibly as a cover to try to calm his nerves. "As I said, formerly. I was fired."
Vachon moved slightly, placing himself firmly between the man and Tracy's bed. "You aren't going to have her."
Taking a breath as if to speak, he looked at Vachon's position, looked at his face, and let the breath out gain as a gusty sigh. "Dear lord, repetition is only amusing in literature. Another vampire involved with... This is getting ridiculous."
Natalie was feeling quite confused now, especially since Vachon seemed to know what these Watchers were. And Rupert didn't seem at all surprised by Vachon being a vampire, although he'd definitely looked worried. "What's a Watcher? What's this council?"
"Well... considering the nature of your... of him," a small gesture towards Vachon made it clear precisely who he was meaning, "I assume that you are well aware that there are more than humans that exist on this world. There are... a rather vast assortment of things, many of which can be quite dangerous. Watchers... well, the simple version is that Watchers watch, keeping records and making studies of the habits and vulnerabilities of dangerous creatures. But they.. they also fight some of them, and guide the Slayer."
"What's the Slayer?" She felt confused, and had the sinking certainty that this was more of that whole mystical, things of myth stuff that she disliked.
"A girl that kills vampires. Normally, they're puppets of the Watcher's Council." Vachon's voice was not happy, almost but not quite a blatant threat.
"What? That's just crazy! Humans don't have the strength to fight a vampire, let alone go hunting them!" She could hardly believe her ears.
Vachon shook his head. "Slayers are different. Stronger. But they never last long."
"What does that have to do with Tracy? She's... she's not some supernatural killer." Natalie didn't like this conversation, but at least he wasn't here to kill Tracy.
"Tracy isn't a Slayer. I'd be able to feel it if she were." Vachon was still glaring at Rupert.
With a small sigh, Natalie shook her head. "I'm Natalie Lambert, that's Javier Vachon. We're both friends of Tracy's. We want to make sure nothing else happens to her."
"You're Natalie... well, that's something at least. Not even a hint of Council involvement and you're up to your ears in vampires... Perfectly... not how I'd expected this to go at all." He sank into a seat, the one the farthest away from Vachon. He removed his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief.
She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Why would the Council have anything to do with my life?"
"Well... There are always a number of girls who have the potential to become Slayers, although there's only one at a time. Generally, the Council tries to monitor the potential Slayers, to ensure that they have the training they would need, and so that if they are Called, they have guidance." He paused, rubbing a moment at the new forming bruises on his arm. "They ahh... they lost a potential in Toronto. I was asked to come and try to identify her. Someone helped me get a short list of names, from families that have produced Slayers and potential Slayers before. Tracy's name is on that short list. So is yours."
All Natalie could do was sit down.
end part 5.
He'd managed to find and speak a bit with Helene Kataloupas, and had concluded that she might very well be a potential Slayer. After putting ice over the black eye that she'd managed to give him, he'd called the Council, informing them of his discoveries and opinions on Helene, adding that there was every chance that she might still be called if something happened. He'd also categorically refused to be her Watcher, claiming a combination of emotional turmoil over Buffy's death and the fact that he still had a list of names to investigate, and could they be absolutely certain they'd only missed one potential? With the sort of punch that young woman had, if she wasn't a potential Slayer, she should be.
With a younger watcher to haul her out of her juvenile delinquent ways. Someone that wouldn't be constantly shocked by her short short hair, the coil of earrings making their way up her ear, the stud in her nose, and the assortment of tattoos over her body. It seemed that he was a bit more conventional than he'd thought in his idea of who he could work with... But that was definitely a girl that would have no problems with the idea of being Chosen to fight. Even if she wasn't the missing potential, a good Watcher could help her make something productive from her life, give her focus, a guideline.
He'd managed to learn a bit more about several of the other names on the list, and had met two others, almost by accident. He could now cross Deanna Manning and Tonya Walters off from his list, certain that neither of them were potential Slayers. He'd had minimal luck with finding some fo the other women, and was starting to remember why he'd been concerned about the whole idea to begin with. At least he'd found a few decent restaurants in this city.
While he'd been able to eliminate a couple of the names from his list purely on the basis of some of the further information that Willow had sent. Sophia Cruz would not be called as a Slayer, not after an accident had left her sufficiently injured that she had a handicapped parking permit and resided in an assisted care facility. Chantelle Tanner had been killed, and so there was no further point in investigating her. But she'd also found three more names to add to his list: Naomi Linton, Tracy Vetter, and Cassandra Martin. Naomi was a nineteen year old university student, Tracy was a twenty six year old police detective, and Cassandra was a twenty two year old martial arts instructor.
After a great deal of frustration, he'd sent an email to Willow, asking if she could find anything that would help him locate any of the remaining names, which he'd sent to her. He hadn't been quite certain what to expect, but had hoped for something more than what he had now.
She'd sent him a rather prompt reply, with addresses for almost half of them, jobs for a few more, and at the bottom of the list was a note - Tracy Vetter was currently in the Toronto General Hospital after being caught in an explosion. She was recovering quite well, and had a record for excellent performance on the job. Willow had also said that weren't good physical skills, rapid recovery, and a tendency to do bravely heroic things traits in a Slayer or potential Slayer?
Giles had been most glad that nobody had been able to see his rather undignified cheer. Finally, not only a promising candidate, but he would be able to find her with no risk of missing her due to work or errands. All he would have to do would be go to the hospital and check on her, that should help establish something. He could even go there this evening, which would lessen the chance of curious relatives, and perhaps he could simply appear to be a doctor, and take a look at her medical charts?
Fortunately, his many painful injuries both as a Watcher in training and as a Watcher, especially since going to Sunnydale had left him quite well acquainted with hospitals. He had no difficulty choosing clothing that would enable him to impersonate a doctor, and minimal difficulty finding the right area of the hospital. The time spent looking for the correct room allowed him to clarify his plans a bit. He would examine her medical charts, attempting to remember anything particularly of interest so that he could ask Willow to look it up. If she was awake, or fairly stable, he could go into the room and take a look at her, perhaps under the pretext of checking her vitals. If there was the opportunity for questions... well, that might be a bit unlikely. Best just get an idea of her condition.
She was the only patient in room 521, and he pulled her chart from the unit beside the door, leafing through the pages of her medical history with an eye for the overall story instead of the little details. No serious illnesses, numerous injuries that seemed to have come from active police work and an active childhood before that, no allergies, didn't smoke... good. Then, he looked at her recent injuries, the ones that had caused her to be here now. Everything had been bruised, burns over large portions of her body, assorted small cuts, a head injury, smoke inhalation... the woman was fortunate to be alive. What on earth had happened to her anyhow?
"Dear me, Miss Vetter, what a mess you've become. Although you do seem to be recovering nicely." The words were a bare whisper, more a vocalization of his thoughts than anything else. He had no idea how rapidly his focus of attention would change in the next few moments.
end part 4.
Natalie had been a bit surprised to meet Vachon on her way to visit Tracy. He'd looked almost flushed, and had been fidgeting a bit. "Something wrong?"
"Just... bad dreams." He'd tried to dismiss the idea, to make light of the matter. "I dreamed that she'd died. Now, I'm a bit anxious to make sure it was just a bad dream. The whole psycho babble nervous thing."
Smiling at him, she'd nodded, understanding the idea of proving that something terrible had only been a dream. "I'm sure that Tracy is just fine..."
Rounding the corner, she saw a man standing by Tracy's door, looking at her medical charts. That might not have been so unusual, except that she'd never seen him before. He was of average height, perhaps in his early forties, light brown hair with a touch of grey... not unattractive, actually. But he wasn't one of the doctors that worked here. "That's not one of her doctors."
Vachon moved with some of that impossible vampire speed, and the man was pinned against the wall, Tracy's chart clattering to the floor before Natalie could even close the distance. She picked up the pages, returning them to the wall.
Whoever the man was, he was being fairly quiet about this, or perhaps Vachon had simply squashed the air out of him. He'd managed to turn his head just enough that neither nose or glasses had been damaged, and appeared to be unarmed. Looking at him, she knew that she'd been correct in thinking that he wasn't one of the staff. He'd pass at a casual glance, but that wasn't quite the right clothing, and there was no name badge.
"Take him into the room. I think we need to find a few answers from this guy." She tried to keep her voice from shaking as her mind assaulted her with flashbacks to the time when she'd been kidnapped by illegal organ harvesters, people who'd decided that she would be excellent spare parts.
They moved into the room quickly, hoping that nobody had heard the charts clattering to the floor. Vachon was still holding the man, but he'd adjusted his grip a bit. Unfortunately, he now had his glowing green gold eyes and sharp teeth, thus causing the whole problem of now the stranger knew that Vachon wasn't normal.
"Who are you?" Vachon's words were almost a growl.
Natalie's own question, while a bit less menacing in tone, was just as demanding. "Why were you looking at her charts?"
The man shifted a little bit, not exactly trying to get away, but in an effort to gain better breathing. "Rupert... Giles. I wanted... to find out something."
"Not a very informative answer, buddy. Why were you looking at her charts? What did you want to learn?" Natalie could feel herself trembling. "And is that name supposed to mean something to us?"
"It is simply... who I am. Formerly a Watcher." He shifted a bit more, looking worriedly at Vachon. "Can I be put back on my feet now?"
Vachon let the man, Rupert Giles, fall to the floor, raising an eyebrow slightly when he regained his balance quickly and didn't fall. "The Council of Watchers?"
The man frowned a bit, trying to straighten his clothing, possibly as a cover to try to calm his nerves. "As I said, formerly. I was fired."
Vachon moved slightly, placing himself firmly between the man and Tracy's bed. "You aren't going to have her."
Taking a breath as if to speak, he looked at Vachon's position, looked at his face, and let the breath out gain as a gusty sigh. "Dear lord, repetition is only amusing in literature. Another vampire involved with... This is getting ridiculous."
Natalie was feeling quite confused now, especially since Vachon seemed to know what these Watchers were. And Rupert didn't seem at all surprised by Vachon being a vampire, although he'd definitely looked worried. "What's a Watcher? What's this council?"
"Well... considering the nature of your... of him," a small gesture towards Vachon made it clear precisely who he was meaning, "I assume that you are well aware that there are more than humans that exist on this world. There are... a rather vast assortment of things, many of which can be quite dangerous. Watchers... well, the simple version is that Watchers watch, keeping records and making studies of the habits and vulnerabilities of dangerous creatures. But they.. they also fight some of them, and guide the Slayer."
"What's the Slayer?" She felt confused, and had the sinking certainty that this was more of that whole mystical, things of myth stuff that she disliked.
"A girl that kills vampires. Normally, they're puppets of the Watcher's Council." Vachon's voice was not happy, almost but not quite a blatant threat.
"What? That's just crazy! Humans don't have the strength to fight a vampire, let alone go hunting them!" She could hardly believe her ears.
Vachon shook his head. "Slayers are different. Stronger. But they never last long."
"What does that have to do with Tracy? She's... she's not some supernatural killer." Natalie didn't like this conversation, but at least he wasn't here to kill Tracy.
"Tracy isn't a Slayer. I'd be able to feel it if she were." Vachon was still glaring at Rupert.
With a small sigh, Natalie shook her head. "I'm Natalie Lambert, that's Javier Vachon. We're both friends of Tracy's. We want to make sure nothing else happens to her."
"You're Natalie... well, that's something at least. Not even a hint of Council involvement and you're up to your ears in vampires... Perfectly... not how I'd expected this to go at all." He sank into a seat, the one the farthest away from Vachon. He removed his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief.
She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Why would the Council have anything to do with my life?"
"Well... There are always a number of girls who have the potential to become Slayers, although there's only one at a time. Generally, the Council tries to monitor the potential Slayers, to ensure that they have the training they would need, and so that if they are Called, they have guidance." He paused, rubbing a moment at the new forming bruises on his arm. "They ahh... they lost a potential in Toronto. I was asked to come and try to identify her. Someone helped me get a short list of names, from families that have produced Slayers and potential Slayers before. Tracy's name is on that short list. So is yours."
All Natalie could do was sit down.
end part 5.