The Search
"Everyone can retire to their rooms," Giles announces once Willow and Buffy are gone. "However, I'd like the following people to remain behind for a moment: Roger Ashford, Jennifer Danvers, Xander Harris, Maxwell Matheson, and Dawn Summers. That is all; thank you."
Slowly the men and women file out of the conference room, no one asking any questions. Many of the Watcher hopefuls have adopted the philosophy that if they stay quiet and do as they're told, their chances become greater.
The remaining men and women take seats in the front row and wait for Giles to address them. "The five of you have been selected as the first to undergo the Watcher screening process. As it stands, you have the most pertinent experience that correlates with the job you'd be performing.
"Mr. Ashford, your brother was one of the most esteemed members of the original Council. You were already starting your training when the First's minions destroyed it," Giles continues.
Roger Ashford, a short older man wearing thick framed glasses, nods slightly but says nothing. He seems to be holding back an extreme emotion, possibly overcome by grief at the mention of his deceased brother.
"Miss Danvers," Giles looks to the younger woman whose brown hair is in a severe bun at the top of her head. "You and Mr. Matheson, excuse me, Major Matheson," he looks to the middle aged man dressed in US Army fatigues, "have spent some considerable time involved in the Initiative, giving you quite remarkable up-close experience with what you'd be facing as a Watcher."
Giles looks at Xander and Dawn, who seem bored with Giles' speech. "Nine long years we've spent side-by-side actually aiding an active Slayer against supernatural evil. I can't think of two more likely candidates than Xander Harris and Dawn Summers."
Dawn beams, pleased with Giles' recognition. Xander is a little more skeptical, however. "So, what do we do as Watcher candidates? Weren't there certain rites and rituals and ceremonies and other things involved?"
Giles nods. "Quite right, Xander. However, as this is a brand new Watcher's organization, more in league with the Slayers than ever before. Buffy and I have contrived a brand new system--"
"Are you daft man?" Ashford suddenly bursts. "You're throwing away generations of custom!"
Raising an eyebrow, Giles looks hard at Ashford, who's standing up, his fists clenched angrily. Looking around, Ashford realizes that he's the only one angry and he sits slowly. "Those long cherished customs are what drove Buffy from the fold in the first place, Mr. Ashford. Have faith, sir; that we'll be honoring many of the ancient ways but we must move with the times or we'll be swallowed by the history that we so tenaciously clung to before the tragedy."
"Here, here," Dawn exclaims and then blushes as the group looks at her, their faces nondescript. "Sorry."
"If you genuinely have a complaint about the way I'm running things, Mr. Ashford, then you are more than welcome to leave," Giles finishes in his "no nonsense" tone that Xander and Dawn recognize all too well. He will not tolerate any argument.
Ashford says nothing but glares at Giles reproachfully. Giles stares him down until the man looks down at his feet. "Any questions, then?" No one does. "Excellent. That being taken care of, you will spend one month with an active Slayer, either Buffy, Faith, Kennedy, Caridad, and Rona. In that time I, or my assistant Andrew Wells, will check your progress periodically. If you are deemed worthy after one month's time, you will be assigned your own Slayer."
Ashford opens his mouth to protest but clamps it shut immediately. Everyone seems to wait for him to say something but he remains quiet. Giles smiles. "I will have your assignments in the morning. In the meantime, get some rest. It's already been a long night."
Everyone but Xander and Dawn leave. Giles looks at them expectantly. After a moment of silence he finally says, "I know you must be wondering why I'm allowing a man from the former Council to even be allowed to join this new organization--"
Dawn makes a disgusted face. "No way. I want to know if it's true."
"If what's true?' Giles asks, perplexed.
"If you meant what you said about Andrew," Xander says. "Your assistant?"
Dawn nods. "I mean, ew. Gross."
Ashford storms to his room, throwing his blazer down onto the double bed in a furious huff. He paces his room for a few moments, pounding a fist into his open palm. He slumps down onto his bed and opens a night stand drawer, revealing a bottle of Scotch. Drinking straight from the bottle, he thinks about the conversation he's just had. Or, rather, the lecture he's just received. "Bloody rogue Watcher. Thinks he can change the world, eh? I'll show him… I'll show them why the customs stayed the way they had for so long…" he takes another long drink before returning the bottle and preparing for bed.
"Big Ben," Willow says, standing up from where she'd been kneeling in front of a large map of the city of London. The map glows for another second before becoming normal again. "Kennedy's in Big Ben. Alive. She's got to be alive."
"She is, Will," Buffy assures her best friend. "The spell wouldn't even work on her if she wasn't."
Willow doesn't look too sure but nods anyway. She has to remain calm and focused on the task at hand. If she loses control, she'll never be able to help Kennedy. While her feelings for the new Slayer are conflicted at best, she knows that things will never get resolved if the girl is killed.
Buffy, on the other hand, tries not to think about the hostage. That is Willow's territory. Her job is to find the kidnapper and render him incapable of ever hurting anyone ever again. She owes it to Willow, who may be losing someone to him, and to the countless women he's murdered and is planning to murder. "Let's go."
The two women leave the hotel, their goal simple: get to Big Ben. They make good time, stopping in front of the landmark. "Ready?" Buffy asks.
Willow shakes her head, clearly not ready to face what Jack the Ripper may have done to her girlfriend. She shrugs and clutches her bag of spell components tightly, as though just having them makes all the difference in the world. Maybe it does. It's funny how undressed Buffy feels without her stake at hand. It must be the same for the witch.
"Slayer!" a voice booms from the clock tower. The pair looks up to see Jack standing on the ledge, looking down on them. "I wasn't expecting you quite so soon! I was just about to prepare dinner. Would you care to come up and join me?" he notices Willow for the first time. "And you brought desert! I thought you Americans are supposed to be rude!"
"Come down here and see how polite I am!" Buffy calls. The blood has drained from Willow's face. "He hasn't hurt her yet, Will. Stay calm. We'll get him."
"If you've hurt Kennedy," Willow screams suddenly and starts to tear up the stairs toward the clock tower.
Kennedy hears Willow's voice. She lifts her head but still can't move. "She came for me…"
Jack turns, his forehead ridged with the tell-tale sign of his demonic roots. His teeth are fanged as he closes in on his captive. "She came for a corpse, Slayer."
Sinking his teeth in Kennedy's neck, he begins to drink. Kennedy tries to scream but can't get past the gurgles from blood rushing from her throat. She thrashes wildly but is unable to fight him off.
Jack stands, wiping his mouth. "I can feel your strength, Slayer. Taste it. The exhilaration is maddening. I will have to take my time. First I'll kill your friend, keep the original Slayer… and then I'll finish you off."
"Typical villain flaw…" Kennedy mutters weakly. "Telling me your master plan."
Jack back hands Kennedy, knocking her unconscious. Ordinarily her Slayer strength would prevent her from such damage but being drained of blood has a way of weakening even a Slayer's natural defenses.
"You don't even know half of my 'master plan,' ignorant girl," Jack snarls as he prepares for his battle against Buffy and Willow.