Even before he'd fully regained consciousness, Sam was aware that his chest was on fire with pain. The burning sensation made breathing almost impossible. He let out a groan, but it hurt so much that it ended as a whimper.
"Buffy, can you hear me?"
Sam nodded carefully and tried to move, but it caused an explosion of pain so intense that he started retching and almost blacked out again. He felt a cool hand on his forehead and he chanced cracking one eye open. Giles smiled comfortingly down at him, stroking his bangs from his eyes.
"Lie still," he said softly. "I'm pretty sure you've got a few broken ribs. I came as quickly as I could, but Spike managed to get in a couple of powerful kicks before I could get to you. I'm so sorry I wandered off, Buffy. It was foolish and irresponsible of me. Another couple of minutes and Spike could have killed you."
"It wasn't Spike," Sam said between gasps.
"I chased him off, Buffy—I'm afraid it was definitely Spike. There must be something wrong with his chip."
"Looked like him," Sam wheezed. "But it wasn't. I saw him change—different vampire. Bigger. Red hair…" Sam had talked himself out of breath and struggled to get air into his lungs without re-igniting the fire in his ribs.
"Take it easy," Giles ordered. "I'll get an ambulance."
"No. No ambulance," said Sam. "I'll be fine."
"Buffy, you can barely breathe—in what dictionary is that the definition of 'fine'? Now lie still and let me call for an ambulance."
As good as the thought of intravenous drugs sounded, Sam couldn't risk going to the hospital. He'd be hard pressed to explain why Buffy's insides didn't match her outsides. "I'm okay, Giles," he wheezed. "Besides, all they can do for broken ribs is give me something for the pain, and I've got plenty of painkillers at home."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Just give me a hand up." It was a lot harder than it sounded. By the time he was up on his feet, Sam was drenched through with a cold sweat and the slightest movement made him nauseous.
"Perhaps I should carry you?" asked Giles.
"Thanks for the offer, but I think my ribs would rather you didn't," said Sam with an attempted smile.
They began their arduous journey home, keeping a close eye out for Spike along the way. If Sam hadn't been in so much pain, he might have seen it as the perfect opportunity to get closer to Giles. But when he grabbed hold of the other man's arm for support, romance was the last thing on his mind.
"Jeez, Sam! It's only been a couple of hours and you're already throwing yourself at the poor guy?" Sam heard Al behind him but refused to acknowledge his presence. "Well I just came by to tell you that your theory's wrong," Al said from behind him. "You've changed history, Sam. Giles no longer goes back to England on the 26th, and you're still here. So that means my theory is right. You gotta stop with the matchmaking and concentrate on saving the World. Sam? Are you listening to me?"
Al, getting annoyed with the silent treatment, punched a command into the hand link and reappeared directly in Sam's path. Sam skidded to a stop, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't collide with a hologram, and the sudden movement made him wince in pain, sweat popping out on his forehead.
"God, Sam—what the hell happened to you?" asked Al. "You're a mess."
"Thanks," Sam replied, dripping sarcasm.
"Take as long as you need," said Giles, thinking that Buffy had simply stopped to catch her breath.
"Giles," said Sam once he'd recovered, "that vampire—the one that kind of leapt into Spike—he said that he was working for Lothos." Sam had intended the comment more for Al's benefit, emphasizing the word 'leapt', knowing that Al would clue in to what he was implying, but it was Giles who reacted first.
"Lothos? Are you sure he said Lothos?" asked Giles.
"Very sure," said Sam. "Why? Does that name mean anything to you?"
"Yeah, it means Ziggy was right," said Al a bit smugly. "That evil computer kidnapped you."
"You don't remember Lothos?" asked Giles. Sam shook his head and took Giles' arm again as they resumed walking. "It was before I became your watcher. It was your first time battling one of the ancients—a vampire so old that his increased powers made him nearly invincible."
"But I killed it, right?" asked Sam. "Lothos is dead."
"From all accounts, yes, I think it's safe to say he's dead. But Lothos had a large following. Perhaps one of those vampires found a way to possess Spike."
"I don't like the sound of that," said Sam with a slight peek at Al, who was busy punching requests into his hand link.
Al looked up at him, scratching his head in confusion. "I gotta go, Sam. I think I'm gonna need Buffy's help on this one."
"I don't much like the sound of it, either," said Giles as Al stepped through a door and into the future. "But first thing's first—I've got to get you into bed."
Sam looked at him with a sly smile, and Giles blushed hotly. "I didn't mean…wh-what I meant was…"
"It's all right, Giles, I got it," said Sam, but he gave Giles' arm a squeeze, just to keep him guessing.
Sam lay in Buffy's bed, staring blankly at the ceiling and waiting for the drugs to kick in. He'd found a nice, morphine-based painkiller in the medicine cabinet, prescribed to a Joyce Summers. Giles had mentioned that Buffy's mother had passed away recently, and judging by the potency of the drugs she was on, it had been rough.
He was starting to feel the first indications that the pills were working—his limbs were getting heavy and a bit numb, and the world was starting to spin in a pleasant sort of way. When Giles came in to check on him, Sam gestured for him to come closer.
Giles took a seat on the edge of the bed. "You should get some sleep—let the medicine do its job."
"I don't want you to go," said Sam.
"You'd like me to sit with you for a while?" asked Giles.
"No. I mean…yes, but no. Don't go back to England," Sam blurted out, his eyes pleading with him. He felt a bit like he'd had one or two drinks too many and had no control over whatwas comingout of his mouth.
"You…knew?" asked Giles.
Sam nodded. "Promise me you won't leave."
Giles hung his head and sighed. "I promise I won't leave you like this. I'll stay until you're back to your old self again."
"And after that?" Sam asked, a little desperately.
"I honestly don't know," said Giles sadly. "You're old enough to do this without me. I can't be your mother forever, Buffy. But I won't leave until you get your strength back. I promise." And before Sam could protest further, Giles gave his arm a pat and left.
"Wait," Sam called out futilely as the door closed.
"Wait for what?" asked Al, making a sudden appearance.
Sam jerked in surprise and hissed at the pain the movement caused him. "Al! Would you stop doing that?"
"You want me to wear tap shoes from now on?"
"It would be a start," said Sam, his words slurring.
"What are you on, Sam? You look like the last guy to leave Woodstock."
"Painkillers," Sam answered. "Good ones. What did you find out from Buffy?"
"Pretty much what Giles already told us," said Al. "Only, in Buffy's version, there was another watcher named Merrick, who was killed before she could do away with Lothos. She seemed a little bitter about it, and she made it very clear that if Lothos was back, she wanted a crack at him."
"Have you found a connection between the vampire and the computer?" asked Sam. His eyes were getting heavier, but he was fighting it.
"Nothing yet. Ziggy's trying to figure out where and when the Lothos computer was built. I'll get back to you as soon as I know more. I gotta say, Sam—things are getting pretty hairy on this end. As far as we can tell, the Project is the last thing left standing on the entire planet."
"All the more reason for me to find a way to leap out of here," said Sam. "Have you asked Ziggy about Giles?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah—remember? I said you've already changed history. Giles stays here in Sunnydale."
"I know," said Sam groggily. "But did you ask Ziggy about Giles and Buffy?"
Al's expression darkened. "No, I did not," he said stiffly.
"What is your problem, Al? I've played matchmaker countless times before."
"This isn't the same and you know it," said Al.
"Because this time I'm the woman?"
"Exactly," said Al, punctuating with his ever-present cigar. "It's not…natural."
"So you'd rather see the World come to an end than have me do something…unnatural…with Giles?"
"That's not the point," said Al evasively. "The point is you're here to stop the apocalypse. Nothing else."
"Then we're in real trouble, Al, because right now I can't even take a deep breath, let alone save the World."
Al chewed on his cigar, trying to think of something to say that might back up his argument.
"You know I'm right," said Sam. "Whether you like it or not, I'm here because Giles is in love with me…"
"You mean Buffy."
"…and I'm in love with him," Sam finished.
"You're scaring me here, Sam. Buffy's in love with him—Bu-ffy. Not you."
"I don't know anymore, Al," said Sam sluggishly, finally giving in to the drugs.
Al stood speechless at the foot of Sam's bed, wanting to vent his frustrations, but lacking the audience to do so. Sam was fast asleep.
Al stepped out of the Imaging Chamber and brushed past Gooshie and Tina without a word.
"Hey!" Tina said in her pouty, little-girl voice. "Don't I even get a 'hello'?"
"Hello," said Al brusquely and charged out of the control room. In the corridor he spotted Dr. Beeks coming his way and he turned tail and headed in the opposite direction.
"Admiral," Beeks called out after him.
"I'm busy," said Al with a dismissive wave of his arm.
"Al, stop."
There was no arguing with Verbeena when she was in full head-shrinking mode. Al ground to a halt and waited for her to catch up, his back to her the whole time.
"I'm fine," said Al before she could say anything.
"I'll believe that when you can look me in the eyes and say it," she answered smoothly.
Al turned around, looked Verbeena square in the eyes and froze up. The words just wouldn't come out.
"That's what I thought," said Dr. Beeks, crossing her arms resolutely. "I'd like you to come with me, Admiral."
"I'm kind of busy, Beena. End of the World and everything…you know how it is."
"Or we could do this out here in the hall," she said, standing her ground as two computer analysts scurried past. Al's shoulders sagged in defeat. He was not going to win in a battle of wills against the relentless psychologist.
"Fine. Lead on Mac Duff," he said, and followed her through the veritable labyrinth of hallways to her office.
Dr. Beeks waited until he was seated uncomfortably in one of her leather chairs before she started in on him. "Care to tell me what's been on your mind these last couple of days?"
"How about the fact that the world outside the Project walls no longer exists? That's pretty high up there," said Al. He was perched on his chair like he was facing a jury of his peers. "I'm not the only one here feeling the strain, you know."
"You're right. Everyone's scared, Al. Some are even panicking. But you're the only one who seems to be angry. Why is that?" She'd trapped him in her intense, chocolate brown stare and Al started to squirm. "You know what I think?" she asked.
"No, but I have a feeling you're about to tell me," said Al.
"I think you're avoiding the bigger issue."
"Bigger than the apocalypse?"
"For you? Yes," said Dr. Beeks.
Al sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "You're not gonna make me say it, are you? We've been through this before."
"We have—nearly every time Sam leaps into a woman—but this time is different. Why?"
"Well, you haven't seen this Buffy girl, have you? Talk about a knockout."
"That's a start, but it doesn't explain the anger," she said.
"And…maybe it makes me a little angry that Sam doesn't consider the effect he's having on me," Al admitted grudgingly.
"Again, this is not new territory," said Beeks, leaning forward in her seat. "You've dealt with this before—it's only natural that seeing you're closest friend in the form of a beautiful girl would be emotionally confusing."
"Uh-huh," said Al, but he didn't sound convinced.
"You know it's not Sam's fault. He has no control over who he leaps into."
"Yeah, but he doesn't have to like it so much," Al mumbled.
Dr. Beeks perked up a bit, sensing that she was getting to the heart of the matter. "What, exactly, does Dr. Beckett like about it?"
"Giles," Al said quietly.
"I'm sorry, Admiral, I didn't hear you."
"Giles," he said again. "Sam thinks he's here to get Buffy and Giles together. He thinks…he thinks he's in love with him."
Beeks carefully studied her patient. She'd known Al for a very long time, and although he hadn't said much, she was able to read a great deal into his facial expressions. He was trying to appear disgusted, but that was just a façade.
"You're jealous," she said, and leaned back to view the results.
Al's eyes widened, betraying his shock, before narrowing defensively. "I am not jealous," he said loudly. A little too loudly.
Beeks crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. There was no need for words on her part—all she had to do was wait him out.
"Well, I'm not," Al persisted, trying to keep his voice down. Once again Beeks remained silent, waiting patiently for the truth to come out. Al shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling the sweat beading on his brow and upper lip. If he said it out loud there would be no going back. But it wasn't as if she hadn't already figured it out.
Al took a deep breath and shrank back into his chair. "Alright. Maybe I'm a little bit jealous," he conceded. And to his surprise, Al felt relieved.