Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Most of the charectors aren't mine but the plot is.

A/N: This is set in an alternate reality. Forget that I said it takes place in Season One of BTVS.

Chapter V: A Death?

Lysander walked among the reeds, enjoying the sweet melody of the robin's song. His plan was flawless. Demetrius would be proud. His plan was simply but deadly. After hours of pouring over books that Angelus had managed to get for him, he had found the key to the Slayer's downfall. All he had to do was get rid of the witch, the source of the Slayer's confidence.

Lysander stopped near a small tree, barely three feet in height. All he had to do was make a pact with the Tyrus. They already launched their attack against the Wicca, and would kill the Slayer's witch without hesitation. Then all he would need to do is capture the slayer. Once he did, Demetrius' soul would finally rest in peace.

Giles and Buffy walked hurriedly through the streets of London. They had an appointment with Quentin Travers at precisely 4 o'clock and it was already 4:30. Giles tugged Buffy into a small alleyway that led to a quaint brick building. Rushing inside, they ran up to the second floor. Stopping outside a large oak door, they paused, after making themselves seem more presentable, Giles opened the door revealing a large conference table where one man sat.

"You're late" The man said.

Giles fumbled with his glasses, "Terribly sorry sir, we lost track of time, the slayer here-"

"Ahh, so you've brought the new Slayer. She's a little bit on the small side isn't she. Are you sure she's the one? Why, the girl probably can't even hurt a fly. Or a demon for that matter."

Buffy tried not to look at this man. He was the head of the Council. He was above her. For all she knew, he could have her killed in the blink of an eye.

The man turned. "So how have you been Rupert? Keeping that son of yours on a tight leash I hope."

Giles frowned. He had never like Quentin. "We are doing fine sir, and yes, Buffy is the slayer. In fact she's been slaying for over a year now. Give or take a month."

Quentin began doodling on a notebook in front of him. "Back to the point. We have reason to believe that Betty here has brought two friends with her and has quite a few contacts in The States."

Buffy groaned. "Firstly, its Buffy. Secondly, what's wrong with that?"

Quentin continued, ignoring Buffy's outburst. Still looking at the notebook he said, "You mean you haven't told her yet?"

Assuming Quentin was addressing him, Giles nodded. "I er, I mean, she knows about...."

This made Quentin Travers look up. The bored demeanor was gone and replaced with an angry one.

"Mr. Giles, I have been assured by the finest that you will do an satisfactory job as the Slayer's watcher. So far I don't think that your actions qualify even as mediocre."

"Sir, if you just let me explain."

"No, you know very well the specifications all slayer's must meet. If you cannot help Bitsy here comply with them, you shall be replaced, or I will personally see to it that she gets dropped."

"Sir-"

"Good day Giles."

Willow sat alone in the library. She was surrounded by different books. All very old. Their spines were peeling and their pages faded, but their information was priceless. She had just finished reading on Wiccan prophesies when she heard a tapping coming from the back.

Reaching for her watch, she realized it was already 6:30. Everyone should be back by now. Picking up a few more books to take with her, she headed towards the exit when she heard a loud thud behind her. Whirling around she looked at the shadows and say nothing. Making her way back towards the tables to see if Buffy was there, Willow saw a glint of silver through the corner of her eye. Turning to the right she saw a man wearing a long robe. In his hand was a sharpened machete, dripping some red liquid. Blood.

"I'm so sorry." The man said as he swung the curved knife to her head.

TBC....

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