CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: TRAVERS (II)

Wednesday: 8:30pm

30th January 1999

California: Sunnydale

Buffy opened the door to the apartment, her entire body throbbing with pain, her head pounding loudly.  She'd never realised how much she had taken her strength and healing powers for granted.  She shut the door quietly and turned shakily.  She stopped with a gasp as she saw a familiar face staring at her.

"Miss Summers."

She breathed in deeply and willed herself not to panic.  "Mr Travers."

She hadn't seen him in over two and a half years, but she hadn't forgotten what he had put her through.  She hadn't forgotten the ten years of being under his thumb, of being beaten and yelled at and humiliated.  She hadn't forgotten the fear and hatred that was associated with Quentin Travers.

Buffy looked quickly around the room, unable to see her Watcher.

"Where's Mr Giles?"

She didn't know why, but her Council training seemed to come to the forefront, and calling Giles 'Mr Giles' seemed to be almost second nature. She couldn't believe that she was cowering in fear because of this man.  It had been so ingrained into her to fear him, that even now, at eighteen, she couldn't stop.

She heard someone move behind her.  She smiled when she saw that Giles was alright.  For a few horrifying moments, she had thought that Travers had done something to her Watcher.

"My sources tell me that you just defeated William the Bloody," Travers said.

Buffy nodded, wondering what sources those were and why he even cared.

"Congratulations then," Travers continued.  "You passed."

"Passed?" she repeated, confusion marring her voice.

She sat down as far away from Travers as she could.  Her body was aching, and she had no desire to let Travers anywhere near her in case he decided to make up for the two and a bit years that she hadn't been in his 'care'.

"The test, Miss Summers," he said, as though the answer was obvious.

"What test?" she asked, trying to contain her anger.

Travers looked towards Giles who pulled out a small wooden box.  He opened it, his hands shaking slightly.  Inside the box was a small syringe and a vial of a light orange liquid.  Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat.

"What is that?" she whispered.

"It's an organic compound…of muscle relaxants and adrenal suppressers. The effect is temporary. You'll be yourself again in a few days," Giles explained, his voice shaky.

Buffy's hand reached out to touch the small box.  Everything suddenly fell into place.  She was weak because the Council had wanted to test her.  She looked to her Watcher who couldn't meet her eyes.

"You?" she asked.

"It's a test, Beth," he explained.  He removed his glasses, not wanting to see his Slayer's reaction to what he was about to tell her.  "Called the Cruciamentum.  It's given to the Slayer once she…uh, well, if she reaches her eighteenth birthday.  The Slayer is disabled and then entrapped with a vampire foe whom she must defeat in order to pass the test."

Buffy was speechless.  Giles had taken her strength from her.  She stood shakily and cast a glance towards Travers who just stared back at her, not in the least intimidated by her.  With another glance at Giles, she made her way to the stairs and took them slowly.

Giles swallowed hard and sat on the couch, his hands shaking.

"She'll come around Rupert," Travers said.  It was the platitude that he told every Watcher after the Cruciamentum.  Of course, most Slayer and Watcher relationships were usually so shattered after the Cruciamentum that the Slayer died in fairly short order anyway.  Travers could only hope that the same would be true in this case.

Giles cleared his throat, wanting to see no more of the older Council member.  "The test is finished," Giles said softly.  "We're done."

Travers nodded and stood up.

"Congratulations to you as well Rupert.  The Slayer is not the only one who must perform in this situation," Travers said.  "You performed your duty admirably."

Giles nodded, feeling sick to the stomach. 

"I trust we won't be hearing from the Council for quite some time," Giles added quietly.

"Not until we hear of more demonic activity," Travers said.  "Just be sure to stay away from Los Angeles."

Giles tried not to smirk.  The pillock still thought that Joyce Summers was in LA.  Giles wasn't going to hurry to correct that assumption any time soon.

After a few more moments, Travers was out the door, leaving Giles alone in his living room while his Slayer was upstairs.  With a heavy heart, he looked towards the stairs and slowly went upwards.

(Lots of the dialogue was taken from "Helpless" and in no way do I own those pieces of speech.)

Can I just go into bitch mode for a moment here…my alternate B/S chap was visited 62 times, and no one sent me an email…what's the go with that?

Alright, out of bitch mode: *phew* I don't like doing that.  Hope you're still enjoying this fic o'mine.

Toodles.

K.