Part 7:

#

Giles had managed to steal about two hours of sleep on the couch in his office before he was woken again, both by the school bell ringing outside and the entrance of Mrs. Post into the library. Somehow the female Watcher looked fresh and rested even though she could hardly have gotten any more sleep than he had last night.

"We have much to do today, Mr. Giles," she said instead of a greeting. "When will Faith be here?"

Rising from his couch with a groan Giles checked the clock on the wall. "Out training session starts at ten. I imagine she is still sleeping right now."

Post seemed less than satisfied with that answer. Learning that the Slayer stayed with the mother of the former Slayer had also greatly dissatisfied her or so it appeared, but she had held her tongue so far.

"Very well. We should use the time to continue our research on where to find the Glove of Mhynegon. Lagos has no doubt reached Sunnydale by now and will be ..."

"There is no further need for that," Giles interrupted her, unable to help the smug feeling he was experiencing. "The glove has been found and is in a safe place."

Post stared at him for a long moment, a strange glint in her eyes.

"You have the glove? Where is it?"

"Safe, as I said," Giles repeated. Suddenly the fact that it was in the apartment inhabited by the supposedly dead Slayer and a vampire with a soul was not the only reason he did not feel like disclosing its location to his fellow Watcher. "We should concentrate on preparing the spell for destroying it."

"Destroying it?" Post seemed almost aghast now. "I ... I believe that is impossible."

"I believed so, too, at first, but it appears we were both wrong." He was feeling quite smug again. "There is a spell called the Living Flame and it will suffice to destroy this dangerous weapon. We should be able to gather all the necessary ingredients within the day."

It took the female Watcher another few moments to regain her bearings, it seemed, but then she quickly agreed to help him. Giles regarded her for a moment, then chided himself for his own suspiciousness. Gwendolyn Post was without doubt not a very amiable person, but she was still a Watcher.

Besides, after over two years of having to research with idle chatter in the background, reading his books in icy silence was almost soothing.

#

"Stop this," Willow snapped when Xander almost bumped into her again.

"Sorry," he mumbled back, forcing himself not to immediately resume his pacing. It was day outside, he reminded himself. Sun shining brightly, no vampires on the streets. Amy would be in hiding, resting for the day.

Not out there killing people.

Willow was browsing through the small collection of books she kept in her locker, certain that one of them contained a spell that might help them find Amy. Her hand shook for a moment when it touched a book that had belonged to the blonde witch. Amy had thrust a large part of her magical collection unto Willow after the disaster with the unveiling spell, resolved never to work magic again.

Now she was dead and looking to kill Xander, maybe the rest of them, too. Part of Willow still had a hard time believing that this could happen. Amy had been a friend. Granted, not the closest of friends, but a friend nonetheless.

Her eyes fell upon the other object in the locker, something she had acquired from the local magic shop a few months ago, before Angel and Buffy's return. An Orb of Thesula. With no one knowing what exactly had happened in the mansion that day she had felt it better to have one close at hand, just in case. Now ... now a large part of her was still tempted to use this Gypsy crystal to snatch her friend's errand soul from the void and put it back in her body, restore Amy to the person she had been.

Only that would never happen, she reminded herself. The only thing it would accomplish was to curse Amy with guilt for the sins of that monster wearing her face. Before last night Willow had never given too much of a thought to what giving Angel back his soul had actually meant for him. The pain it forced upon his conscience.

No, she resolved, forcing her hand away from the orb. Amy would not have to go through this, no matter how much better it would make Willow feel to get her friend back. Amy was dead and the only thing they could do for her now was to lay her body to rest as well.

Taking half a step back Willow bumped into Xander again.

"What is it with you?" she asked, starting to get irritated. All day long he had hovered around her, fidgeting.

"I ... I want to help," he mumbled. "There has to be something I can do."

She was about to say that the best he could do was to leave her in peace, but thought better of it at the last second. These last weeks and months she had become rather alienated from her former best male friend, fed up with his insecurities, petty hatred, and unwillingness to deal. The times when she would have defended him against anyone, no matter what stupid things he did, had passed.

Still, he seemed to have come to his senses now. Too late for Amy, too late for the people who had gotten killed the night of the unveiling spell, but maybe not too late to save himself. Xander had come face to face with his sins last night and the experience seemed to have shaken him to the core, even more so than when he had been the one to find Amy's dead body.

"Help me get these books to the library," she finally said, passing some of the volumes to him. "I hope Giles can help us cobble together a spell to locate Amy."

Xander nodded, quickly taking the books.

#

Faith was not amused and for several different reasons at that. Even after a few hours of sleep her head was still buzzing with Post's lecture from the day before, as well as Buffy's words from last night. She was certainly more inclined to believe her sister Slayer than that cold iron bitch Watcher, but she could not let go completely of what said bitch had told her.

Case in point was the matter with Amy. A friend of Buffy's, at least by association, who had suffered for that relation and was now an enemy. There was that whole business with Xander, a whole can of worms that would never have been opened if Buffy had not allowed herself to have friends.

Most of the times she had an easy time getting rid of deep thoughts with some physical exertion. Pounding away on the punching bag in the library somehow failed to achieve that effect, though. The only thing it did do was chase Giles deeper into the stacks, the silence he so much enjoyed ruined.

Unfortunately it had done nothing about the presence of Post, who was sitting close by and studied her moves while at the same time flipping through a book in search of details about the Living Flame. Faith was more than annoyed by her scrutiny by now. The woman's arrogant demeanor and complete conviction that Faith's life was the Watchers' to do with as they pleased pissed her off to no end.

Raining punches and kicks down on the punching bag only seemed to make her thoughts run faster and faster. Buffy was right. Post was wrong. It should be as easy as that, but somehow it was not. People who got close to her got hurt. Like Joanna, her first Watcher. The first person who had ever cared about her and Kakistos had gutted her for it, had killed her slowly and with pleasure while Faith had been forced to watch.

Who was to say that it would never happen again? She was the Slayer and the monsters were always close, either because they were coming for her or because she was hunting them down. Normal people got killed in these battles, got killed real easy.

Buffy's friends had survived for years, though. They were still here and giving her the strength to go on, helping her assimilate back into the world after thirty years in Hell. They were becoming Faith's friends as well and even after these few short months she had been with them she could hardly imagine not having them. Not having Joyce. Not having Giles.

Which would only make it hurt that much more once a vampire got its hand on them, gutted them, made her watch.

"No," she yelled, agitated by the thought, and kicked the punching bag clear off its chain. Post looked from her books, giving her questioning stares. Giles emerged from the stacks, taking in the ruined punching bag and Faith's obvious loss of composure.

"I need some real action," she finally mumbled, wiping sweat off her brow. "Beating the shit out of this thing just isn't fun."

Not waiting for any reaction from the two Watchers she left the library. Maybe doing a few dozen rounds on the school track field would do her some good.

#

"You're a hard person to get in touch with," the vampire spoke into the phone. "I had to pull quite a few strings to get your number."

"Well, what can I say?" the other vampire answered. "I'm a busy man. Can't have every Tom, Dick, and Harry get his hands on my bedside phone number. How did you get it, by the way?"

"I have friends. They have friends. Let's talk about business instead."

"I am always open to business. Some details would be appreciated, though."

Sebastian Khan leaned back in his chair, taking a lungful of smoke from his cigar.

"I was told that you have some experience working in a town called Sunnydale, Mr. Trick."

There was icy silence on the other end of the line for a moment.

"Yes. Yes, I have."

"Good. I was hoping that I could purchase some information from you."

"Information?"

"The usual. What sights I just have to see. What people I just have to kill."

On the other end of the connection Mr. Trick broke into a smile.

"Well, I might have some insider tips for you there. If the price is right, of course."

"Of course. If you would be so kind as to give me your details I can authorize a money transaction to an account of your choosing."

"It is always a pleasure doing business with someone professional."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

Sebastian Khan laughed out loud, taking but a moment to be irritated about this habit he seemed to be developing. It was soothing somehow.

TO BE CONTINUED