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A Safe but Obscure Clearing in Sunnydale
Willow's POV
Things are heating up out there, she thought even as she watched Xander continue to learn how to master his magic. I think Giles might've been wrong about the vampires keeping things low key.
In the last week alone vampires had engaged in four different confrontations and. while they'd been confined to the warehouse district and the docks. the damage had been enough to make the local newspaper. 'Vandals on PCP' was the official story that the police and city hall were going with and everyone except the gang accepted it thanks to Sunnydale Syndrome. Even though it'd been three weeks since the incident at the Sunset Club. the local vampires hadn't wasted any time trying to establish a new pecking order. In the end it was probably for the best that the authorities remained out of it because. if they knew the truth. they'd try to stop it themselves and probably get killed or turned in the process. Until the world at large came to know the truth about demons and vampires. only those who knew the truth were capable of combatting them without needless deaths.
Looking down at her grayish-blue talon-tipped hands and looking up to see a blast of emerald energy leap from Xander's hand towards its intended target, she believed that now the Scooby gang was more capable than ever. Perhaps now they'd be able to do more than simply rescue a handful of people every night and could actually begin a real effort to clean up Sunnydale. Lay the groundwork for making it into the sleepy Californian town the uninformed people of the world thought it was. She wasn't stupid enough that she thought it'd be easy and she conceded that she probably wouldn't live to see the work completed, but it was a worthy goal. All they were doing now was trying to hold back a flood with umbrellas, an exercise in futility. For every life they saved, dozens more were ended. She had seen the coroner's reports and, with a little careful examination, she'd been able to identify which ones were normal deaths and which had been caused by supernatural or demonic means. It was safe to say that over eighty percent of the deaths in her hometown were not of natural causes or anything that mainstream society would accept.
In the face of such figures it was difficult to believe that their efforts each night really mattered.
Nevertheless she was reassured at least by the fact that since they were on guard in Sunnydale, the odds of the Hellmouth opening were considerably less than if they'd done nothing this past year and a half. If it hadn't been for them, The Master would've opened the Hellmouth and a few others would've killed a great many more people.
They might not be pushing the enemy back but they were keeping the big red demonic nuke button from being pressed and that was enough.
"Very good, Xander," Giles said from his lawn chair where he'd been observing the spell casting. "You're aim is improving and I saw only a flicker of energy bleed off."
"Thanks. I think I've got the trick to controlling it all," Xander said, letting a bit of his magic dance across his fingertips like electricity. "Just a little fine tuning needed."
"That will come with practice," Giles said with a reassuring grin. "Now let us move onto something a little more advanced and see how you fare."
"What've you got in mind?" Willow asked, intrigued by the idea of something more difficult than what the Watcher had been drilling her best friend on since the incident with Ford.
"Matter-energy manipulation," Giles replied before bringing up a warning finger. "Just the basics, mind you. Nothing advanced. It takes years of practice before one can call themselves a master at it."
"Is it anything like levitation?" Xander asked, looking for clarification.
"No. Matter-energy manipulation involves using magic to influence either matter or energy to the point where you can choose what form it takes or how it behaves," Giles replied as he got to his feet, picking up an oddly shaped crystal as he did so. "Now mind you I am a bit out of practice so it may take one or more tries on my part."
With that the Watcher brought the crystal up like a wand or a talisman and after a few seconds it began to glow from within. Eager to see what effect this would have, she looked about the immediate area to see if anything was changing. It didn't take her long to find as dirt rose up out of the ground until there was enough to fill a small sack. What happened next kept her from asking what made this different from levitation as the dirt began to take on a VERY specific shape. The reshaping was not the smoothest and she could tell that a few times Giles had to reestablish his grip on a pinch or two of dirt, but in the end a passable short sword had been made.
"Now… keep in mind… that I am maintaining… both the shape as well as the density… of the sword through magic and willpower," Giles said with evident strain in his voice. "A fluctuation… with either variable… and the short sword will… begin to lose its form… as well as become… less adept at cutting… or blocking."
A few seconds later the light within the crystal vanished and simultaneously the sword of dirt dropped to the ground, becoming nothing more than a lump.
"Now… the denser or more complicated the raw material, the more power you will need to employ in order to reshape it into your desired form," Giles said as he relaxed from the strain he'd been under. "This magic does not grant the material you employ any additional attributes. Dirt will still be dirt and stone will still be stone. As such if your opponent's weapon is made of stronger or sharper material, then all you will have to keep your weapon in one piece is your magic and your willpower. This magic is difficulty enough with solid matter. It becomes decidedly more difficult when trying to manipulate water, air or some form of energy."
That made sense.
Solid matter would be easy to shape into a weapon since it was essentially already halfway there, but anything else would be decidedly more difficult to make tangible enough to block an opponent's weapon.
"Now, I trust you were attentive enough to get a feel for the magic being channeled by the crystal I held?" Giles asked, looking towards his pointy-eared student.
"Yep," Xander replied with a nod of his head.
"Then for your first attempt try to form something simple from the dirt in front of you," Giles said as he laid out the objective of the test. "Something nonlethal would be my suggestion. Just in case."
A nod was all her best friend and current crush provided before he stretched forth with his dominant hand and an eerie green glow began to flow off his body. She watched as dirt began to rise from the ground but it was decidedly larger than what Giles had attempted, making her wonder if Xander was trying for something out of his reach. It'd been such a strain on Giles just to make the short sword and keep it in one piece with only half as much dirt.
"While ambition is not necessarily a bad thing, Xander, it is not wise for you to attempt something beyond your reach." Giles cautioned, no doubt hoping his words would be heeded.
Even after more than a year he doesn't know Xander as well as I do, she thought with an amused shake of her head.
For as long as she'd known her friend, Xander had always been one to do first and think later. He did it trying to protect her from those who'd bully her even when they were bigger and stronger than he was. He did it whenever a half formed idea popped into his head that he hadn't really thought through but still thought was quite brilliant. That was why she'd taken on the role of the more logical one, the responsible one, in order to keep Xander from doing something would get him into a great deal more trouble than he could handle. She saw it as a way of repaying him for his acts of kindness and his friendship.
Most of the time she managed to keep him under control. The rest of the time Xander went ahead like the bullheaded person he was but somehow still managed to come out more or less in one piece.
This looked to be one of those times.
Magic surrounded the mass of dirt, a testament to how much was being employed, but eventually it began to take shape. She couldn't quite tell what her friend was trying to create with his power but it seemed to be rather tall for a weapon, measuring roughly five and a half feet by her reckoning. As curves were introduced into the mass, she began to think that maybe it was a serpent sword of some kind. Xander did have a thing for fantasy weapons, so it made sense that he'd choose something like that rather than something plain. It was when holes began to form in specific spots in the mass that her prediction about what he was trying to make began to unravel since what she was seeing didn't match any sword design she knew of. More and more the holes grew until they ceased to be perfectly circular, taking on less uniform shapes as her friend continued to sculpt the dirt into his desired shape.
It was only when she saw two spots began to take on recognizable shapes that she realized what he was trying to make. Pointed ears began to form on either side of the top portion and what looked to be long waist length hair that flowed straight and true. Definition and detail grew as limbs formed from the mass, slender yet strong ones, and then to top it all off a pair of mounds began to form on the chest that had her narrowing her eyes at her friend's imagination.
When all was said and done it became perfectly clear what, or rather WHO, her friend had created out of the dirt he'd taken from the ground.
"Xander, I don't think Titania would look like that in real life," she said, warning laced through her tone of voice. "For one thing her chest is too big and I doubt her… rear end looks like that."
"Xander…" Buffy said with a sharp tone that implied reprisal if he didn't drop what he was doing IMMEDIATELY.
Self-preservation being one of her best friend's strong points, he instantly stopped using his magic and the dirt he'd been utilizing plopped to the ground in a pile.
"C'mon, guys!" Xander said, trying to do the whole innocent 'it is not a big deal' routine. "I was just going with what was easiest for me to picture in my head."
"And the easiest thing you could picture was a busty Titania with the perfect butt?" she asked with a raised skeptical eyebrow.
"Well… yeah," he replied with a shrug before a look of recollection emerged on his face. "I mean, not to be too blunt, but the cartoons never really did Titania justice."
"What do you mean?" Giles asked, sounding interested for purely academic reasons.
"Well, I… might have retained a few snippets of memory from Puck," Xander replied, only briefly leaving his moment of recollection. "One of them was of how Titania looked as a real person rather than a cartoon character. Believe it or not I shaped the dirt realistically, so no giving me the 'Xander, you pervert' routine."
Thinking back to the dirt statue of Titania, she tried to determine whether she should believe her friend or label him a teenage boy trying to excuse his dirty little mind. She eventually decided to give him the benefit of a doubt but she'd be watching him from there on out to make sure he didn't abuse his magic for… guy things.
It was a perfectly reasonable concern.
Now, if he decided to use her as the model for his next matter construct and decided to… exaggerate certain parts of her, she wouldn't mind all that much.
Maybe.
The Harris House
Xander's POV
"Knotgrass! Flittle! Thistlewit!" he said as he walked into that which had been the Harris home in all but name. "I'm home!"
It didn't take long for three fluttering orbs of light to come to him from three different parts of the house and, once they were close enough, the light dimmed to reveal tiny women. It'd been a sight he'd gradually been getting used to since coming home Halloween night even if there was one part he didn't much like.
"Welcome home, your highness," the three women said, bowing respectfully to him like he was royalty.
Sure, technically he was by being the son of a former queen of the Moors, but he hadn't been raised as such and didn't see himself as a prince. Still, the three fairies insisted on treating him according to the royal protocol of their people, with only a few concessions because he insisted upon them. He wanted to keep things low key and not to draw attention to the house. The way things were inside the house now was so different from how it'd been before he'd come into his inheritance. Before Halloween he'd always dreaded coming back to the Harris House and never had he really considered it home, since to him home was supposed to be a warm place filled a loving family. Instead it'd been a place where he was repeatedly reminded of how worthless he was and who he'd sooner die than become.
Now it was a place where he truly felt loved and where every night before bed he learned more about his true mother and father.
"Anything interesting happen while I was at school?" he asked as he tossed his book bag by the stairs.
"Not really," Knotgrass replied as Flittle flew off into the kitchen. "We've finally managed to fix the last of the wear and tear on the house as well as the grass outside. I'm afraid we had to toss the refrigerator, though. Even fairy magic couldn't make it clean again!"
"I'm not surprised considering some of the mold I've seen growing in there," he said, remembering how sometimes he'd been afraid to open the thing.
"Yes, well, fortunately our magic will be able to keep some of the more perishable things cold until they can be used to make a meal or eaten on their own," Knotgrass said, sounding like she was already making plans to efficiently use what needed to be kept frozen. "I've already put in an order for a replacement but it's going to be a while."
"No problem. Even if we don't have food in the house, there're plenty of takeout places in Sunnydale," he said, not worried in the least about any of them going hungry.
"Not the healthiest food to eat but I suppose if we're left with no other choice it'll do in a pinch," Thistlewit said, sounding as though she'd rather not be pushed that far.
Flittle returned a few seconds later with a glass of milk in her arms like always and, just as before, he plucked it from her just as it looked as though it was too much for her to carry any longer. He often wondered why they didn't just assume more human sized forms since he knew they could and, when he'd asked once, he'd gotten a reasonable enough answer. It'd been so long since they'd been allowed to flutter about in their true forms that they didn't want to waste a single opportunity to do so. After he'd thought it over he had to admit that, if he'd been forced into a displeasing form and asked to stay in it for years, he wouldn't want to waste a moment of his freedom once he'd reclaimed it.
Still, as soon as he figured they'd had their fill of their natural forms, he'd suggest that they consider changing into something a little more human, if only to make their tasks a little easier.
"How was school?" Flittle asked after taking a moment to breathe some strength back into her body.
"The usual. Boring classes and Snyder taking every opportunity to make the lives of the students miserable," he replied, shaking his head at the principle's obsession with making people feel even worse than him. "I've got to take a catch up class with Miss Calendar tomorrow to improve my grade with her and, as luck would have it, I'll be spending it with Willow… and Cordelia."
"Awful girl!" Flittle said, curling her lips with distaste. "Met her once as Jessica Harris, along with her mother. Suffice it to say that the apple did not fall far from the proverbial tree."
"I'm not surprised there," he said, imagining that the head cheerleader had to have learned her 'charming personality' from someone. "I'm almost hoping for something Hellmouthy to happen just so I can 'miss' that particular class."
"Well, if you wanted, we could always make it so the computers won't work," Thistlewit said, sounding like she wouldn't mind doing it herself. "Make it so it'd take a couple of weeks before they'd be working again."
He considered the possibility for precisely a moment before he shook his head. "That'd just be putting it off for later," he said, much to his inner regret. "Better to go with the band aid way of doing things."
"Very well," Thistlewit said with only a little sigh of disappointment.
"How are your lessons with Mister Giles going?" Knotgrass asked, moving things along to less actions of a questionable nature.
"Not bad. Flying's like walking to me now and I can manage making stuff out of dirt now as long as no one breaks my concentration," he replied, slightly wincing at the 'tap' to his shoulder Willow had given him when he'd let his INSPIRATION slide into the gutter again. "G-man said once I manage to hold the shape no matter what, we'll move onto something harder. Considering how much of a book lover he is, I'm not sure I want to find out what he'd consider 'harder'."
"Now, now! You are the son of the great Maleficent of the Moors!" Knotgrass declared reprovingly as she fluttered closer to him. "I have no doubt whatsoever that you'll rise to the challenge. Rise and OVERCOME it! You just need to get a bit of confidence into you, that's all."
"Kinda hard to after…" he said, almost referring to his treatment in the years up to the present before taking into account how the fairies would feel. "It'll just take time."
Despite his efforts, though, expressions of guilt and sorrow appeared on each of the fairies' faces as they remembered what they'd done previous to Halloween. Of course they'd done their best to make it up to him by cleaning the house, making him delicious meals and lending their knowledge of nonhuman species when it was appropriate. Nevertheless, there were times when they likely thought he wasn't looking when looks of guilt crossed their faces before being swept quickly away. They needn't feel such guilt because in his mind the true blame lay with the man who'd insisted they act so in exchange for protection that deserved his wrath. As soon as he managed to pry the name of the guilty party out of the three fairies, he would immediately begin making plans for payback with all the resources available to him.
By the time he was done, the man would never sleep soundly again because of the shape both mind and body would be in at the end.
"Do you guys know any spells that I could do?" he asked, thinking that giving him some help might brighten their moods. "Any you could teach me?"
"Well… most of what we know is fairly advanced. Changing our appearances being one of them," Knotgrass replied, looking a little hesitant. "It's not something you want to make a mistake on."
"Is there some sort of buildup work I can do for it?" he asked, sounding interested at the idea of turning himself into something or someone else. "Some books I could read?"
"I'm afraid I don't know of any human books but give us a bit of time and we might be able locate some others," Thistlewit replied, sounding like some ideas were forming in her head.
"Others? What do you mean?" he asked, not quite understanding.
"Well you don't really think that humans are the only species that commit their knowledge to the written page, do you?" Knotgrass asked with some amusement at his error. "Countless nonhuman races do it and some survivors of the Moor's destruction have transcribed such things in an effort to ensure that something of our people survived. It'll take some time but we'll see if they have anything they can safely send to Sunnydale."
"Thanks! I think this might be the first time I'm actually excited about reading a book," he said with his trademark lopsided grin.
"Good. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Xander," Flittle said with an admiring grin. "The fact that you've managed to keep up with your friend Willow is proof of it."
"Yeah, I know," he said, remembering one of the few bright spots of his life.
In the beginning he'd downplayed it as just being the result of Willow's good tutoring skills but then he'd realized that his memory and his ability to comprehend what he was being told were just as relevant. He still didn't think that he'd manage to get a blank check to any university or college he wanted like she would, but with a little luck he'd manage to get a scholarship to cover at least some of the cost of tuition.
Assuming, of course, that he even chose to go on to college in the first place and not just get a job straight out of high school.
He was, after all, dedicated to the good fight and the burden of taking university level classes could very well get in the way of that. He knew that Buffy had flubbed a few school assignments because she'd been busy fighting the demon of the week or preventing the end of the world, so he doubted he'd fare any better.
"Well, as much as I'd like to stay and gab, I've got homework to do and an early review class to get to," he said, finishing his glass of milk. "Anything need doing before I head upstairs?"
"Don't worry about it," Knotgrass said with a grateful smile on her face. "We've got everything well in hand. You just focus on your studies."
"If you say so," he said returning her smile. "Just be sure to give me a shout if you need an extra hand or two."
"We will," Flittle said with a nod of acknowledgment.
Taking into account the privacy the house provided, he took to the air and flew up the stairs, not seeing the point in doing it the old fashioned way when he didn't have to.
It was the Fae way, after all.
Sunnydale High School
Computer Lab
Buffy's POV
"Uh, sit here, Buffs!" Xander called as he stood up from his seat in the computer room. "Demilitarize the zone between me and Cordelia!"
As much as she wanted to oblige her friend, she had something a little more important to concern herself with than the ongoing war of words between Xander and Cordelia. Turning and walking over to Miss Calendar, she decided to just jump into what she needed to talk about.
"Actually I wanted to talk to you for a second," she said, a little bit of her worry seeping into her voice.
"Something wrong?" Miss Calendar asked, taking her words seriously.
"Is there some crisis that requires instant action?" Xander asked, sounding like he smelled an escape route forming. "Very far from here?"
"It's Giles," she replied, remembering what she'd seen of her Watcher the previous night.
She'd gone to his place after he'd missed their joint mission to keep the local vamps from stealing the latest shipment of blood to the hospital. However not only was he unwilling to explain his absence to her satisfaction, he'd been in quite a rush to send her on her way. It was very impolite and therefore very un-Giles-like, but short of kicking his apartment door down to force him to tell the truth, she'd been left with few options.
"Well, he's alright, isn't he?" Miss Calendar asked, her concern heightening.
"I don't know. Uh, he didn't show up when he was supposed to last night and then when I went over to his place he was acting… well, very anti-Giles," she replied, trying to condense her reply just in case time proved to be a factor in what was going on. "He wouldn't let me in and he looked really bad. I-I think he might've been… I think he was drinking."
"He was home alone drinking?" Miss Calendar asked, sounding puzzled by the news.
"But… tea, right?" Willow asked, sounding like she wanted to believe better of her mentor.
"Wasn't tea, Will," she replied, shaking her head in the negative.
"Yep, yep, I knew this would happen," Xander said, sounding like it'd been all too obvious to him. "Nobody can be wound as straight and narrow as Giles without a dark side erupting. My Uncle Rory was the stodgiest taxidermist you've ever met by day. By night, it was booze, whores and fur flying. Were there whores?"
"He was alone," she replied, not even giving her mind time enough to conjure any 'Ew' worthy images.
"Give it time," Xander said as though it were inevitable that Giles would indulge in… THAT… practice.
"So, none of you guys have noticed anything different lately?" she asked, looking first at Willow and then at Xander.
"Nope," Xander replied, looking as though he couldn't recall anything of consequence.
"No, he seemed perfectly normal yesterday when I saw him talking to the police," Cordelia said offhand as she looked at herself in her compact mirror before touching up her makeup.
THIS caused just about everyone to turn to the socialite in disbelief that the girl had taken this long to tell them what was obviously a crucial piece of information.
"And you waited till now to tell us this because…?" she asked, wanting to know the reason even though she suspected what it was already.
"I didn't think it was important," Cordelia replied, still not realizing that it was NOT an everyday occurrence for someone to be visited by the police.
"We understand," Xander said with exasperation as he rolled his eyes. "It wasn't about you."
"Well, what were the police talking about?" Miss Calendar asked, plying for more information.
"Oh, don't tell me, I know this one," Cordelia replied taking a moment to think before arriving at the answer. "Um… something about… a homicide."
A HOMICIDE!? she thought in shock at the sheer self-centeredness and stupidity of the cheerleader.
Even at her worst back at Hemery she'd have realized the seriousness of one of her teachers being visited by the police about a homicide.
"That's it," she said, moving towards the classroom door intent on finding a phone. "I-I'm calling him right now."
Moving through the hallways, she made her way to the nearest phone she knew of, the one in the library, determined to get some answers from her Watcher. If he kept stonewalling her she'd march over to his apartment again and this time she WOULD kick the door in because she was not going to get shut out of things if her mentor was in trouble.
She would get to the bottom of this!
Entering the library, she began to move to Giles' office when a sound coming from behind the stacks caught her attention causing her to stop cold. Turning towards the source, she was shocked to see what looked like a man, or rather a male corpse, who looked to be about five steps from falling to pieces entirely. It shambled about and, if she didn't know any better, she'd think it was following a scent that only it could detect, but she decided that it didn't really matter what it was doing there. She might not act like it most of the time in front of her friends but she had a keen mind and it didn't take her long to match the shambling arrival to her Watcher's unusual behavior. Coincidences just didn't happen on the Hellmouth when it came to timing, so in her mind she labeled it a threat and charged forward to make with the slayage.
In the time that it took most people to blink she had crossed the gap between herself and the zombie, allowing her to unleash a series of blows meant to shatter bone. The corpse tried to fight back but, whether it was due to lack of intelligence or the limitations of its less than perfect physical condition, it was easy to avoid it. However when what had to be two minutes of fighting passed with no visible sign of the thing going down she knew she'd have to rethink her strategy. Grabbing it by what remained of its jacket, she threw it towards the book cage where the weapons were before following it and sweeping its legs out from under it as it tried to stand back up.
Opening the cage, she immediately went for a sword since in almost every zombie movie she'd ever seen, chopping the walking dead people into pieces usually settled things. Letting her instincts and the lessons she'd been given by her Watchers, both Merrick and Giles, guide her, she began to hack off limbs. There was no particular order to it but rather simply taking advantage of the openings the corpse provided, but the end result was the same. Before long she had severed both arms as well as one of its legs, leaving it struggling to remain upright rather than flat on its back.
She was just about to deliver the decapitation blow when it suddenly began to go into convulsions, causing her to pause and wonder what would happen next.
It turned out to be something quite gross as the zombie disintegrated into an icky bluish goo that had her stepping back as swiftly as she could to keep any of it from getting on her. As it was a single drop managed to get on one of her toes and reflexively she kicked outwards to fling the drop someplace else. Most of it went flying but there was still a sickly residue that her walking over to the library counter to get a tissue to wipe it off with.
Three steps later a wave of dizziness hit her that was strong enough to cause her to come to a complete stop in order to regain her balance. Luckily it seemed her Slayer constitution was strong enough to shake off whatever had her swaying because a few seconds later everything was back to normal. Shaking it off as nothing serious, she continued on to the counter and a few seconds later was wiping the gunk off her toe before disposing of the tissue in the nearby waste basket.
"Giles is SO lucky I didn't wear my best shoes today," she said as she thought about what to do next.
She had come to the library because she'd thought that even with how odd her Watcher had been acting the last time she'd seen him that he'd come to work like normal. If he wasn't there then the only other place he could be would be his apartment. For a moment she considered leaving school grounds and heading right there but that would get her into extra trouble with Snyder and maybe the bad news would trickle home to her mom.
THAT would be a nightmare and a half!
So she decided to take a shortcut that would still get her what she wanted.
Rupert Giles' Apartment
Giles' POV
What am I going to do?
It was a question he'd been asking himself ever since the first visions hit him and he was no closer to getting an answer than when he'd started. Eyghon was coming for him and it had already succeeded in eliminating the others. With Ethan dead by Willow's hands he was the only member of the original group left to be targeted. Until it got to him, the demon would continue to hop from host body to host body, rapidly decaying it from the inside out each time. He'd considered erecting powerful protection wards around his apartment and waiting until Eyghon failed to reach another host in time, but his instincts as a Watcher dismissed the scenario immediately. There were too many people in Sunnydale and too few who knew the truth about the supernatural, making the uninformed easy prey for the ghost of his misspent youth.
However at the same time he had no clue as to how to vanquish Eyghon without getting decidedly closer than was wise. As far as he knew, the only way to send the demon back to where it came from was to kill the host body while ensuring that nothing dead or unconscious was close by for it to jump into. Sadly, in Sunnydale dead bodies were rather plentiful, either in the form of the various demon breeds or the bodies they left behind after they'd taken what they wanted. All Eyghon would need would be a dead body in reasonable condition to either come after him or one that could endure long enough to come across a better one.
He'd seen the death rates that the Watcher's Council had uncovered prior to assigning him to the Hellmouth and, given the sheer number of people who perished PER WEEK, Eyghon would not have to travel far should its current body begin to fail. There were almost certainly bodies that lay where they had been discarded, never discovered by the less then competent Sunnydale Police Department. With no idea where they were, it would be too dangerous to confront Eyghon inside the city limits and that meant leaving Sunnydale for someplace devoid of useful corpses.
That was only marginally better than fighting the demon in Sunnydale.
Still… for the sake of the children he had to try.
RING! RING!
RING! RING!
For a moment he considered ignoring the phone and proceeding with his desperate plan to finish off the demon from his past. However if it was either Buffy or one of the others, his lack of reply might well spur them into seeking him out and, if they arrived at an inopportune time, they could well become the monster's next host.
Thus with a sigh he stopped what he was doing and picked up the phone, stopping its ringing.
"Hello?" he asked, hoping that he could end the call quickly.
"Giles, I know you said to keep out of whatever it is you're hip deep in but I think your problem just dissolved into goop on the library floor." Buffy said over the phone, sounding irritated and impatient.
NO!
Even though he wished nothing more than for his charges to be safe, Eyghon still managed to get to one of them.
The most important one as a matter of fact!
"Are you alright!? Are you hurt!?" he asked quickly, hoping that his choice to keep the facts to himself had not led to his Slayer being harmed.
"I'm fine. The zombie thing didn't land a single hit," Buffy replied ,sounding more irritated than concerned. "But if wind up getting a wart because some of its gunk got on my foot, you're paying to have it removed."
For a moment his fear spiked as he worried that Eyghon might have leapt into Buffy's body but then remembered that the Slayer was neither deceased nor unconscious, so she was safe from that.
Still, it never hurt to be extra careful and there were some evils that left a lingering taint via their remains.
"Remain where you are," he ordered as he immediately began to think of purification rituals. "I will be there shortly."
Before Buffy could say anything he hung up and began rearranging the contents of the bag he'd been packing, focusing on the things he'd need for expelling whatever taint Eyghon might have passed on to his Slayer. It was true that he would like to believe that the demon was gone for good, but the busy nature of working on a Hellmouth meant that it was entirely possible that in the last month or so some dead body could've been hidden on the school grounds. The books on Eyghon were rather vague when it came to precisely how far was too far for the monster to travel in search of a new host and, if its range extended to the entire school property… the problem would still remain.
More than that, since some of the demon's remains had made physical contact with Buffy, it could imply that a connection had formed. A connection that the demon could later utilize to its benefit once it was ready to come after him. Thus it was imperative that he remove the taint on Buffy sooner rather than later.
In less than ten minutes he was packed and tossing the bag into his car, sliding into the driver's seat. With its usual stubbornness his car was reluctant to start but, with a little coaxing, the engine finally started, allowing him to pull onto the street before heading towards the school. As much as he loved his car and valued it as a classic, he had to admit that this was one of those times that he could see Xander's point when it came to upgrading to something more current. In its current state his car was only just able to make the posted speed limit and he knew that if he pushed it any harder it could well give out on him. He'd looked into the matter of fixing it up, replacing failing parts, but sadly the cost of those repairs were beyond his current financial means. As a result he would have to make do with what he had for at least a few years more.
The next twenty minutes were some of the longest he'd had to deal with in a long while but eventually he arrived at the school. With speed the belied his age he exited his vehicle, bag in hand as he raced for the library in the hopes that he was not already too late to protect his charge. The moment he pushed open the door he looked about the library for Buffy and found her along with the rest. Looking to the floor he saw the 'goop' Buffy had mentioned, immediately confirming with his experience and knowledge that it was demonic in nature. It was also consistent with what he'd researched in the past about Eygon.
"Buffy!" he said as he walked up to her before going through the mental checklist all Watchers were taught during their training.
There was even one instructor who'd made it his business to make sure they never forgot the list by specifically constructing tests so that it was the only way they could survive.
From what he could tell there were no visible discolorations consistent with a harmful substance interacting with human tissue. Looking at Buffy's expression and body language, she did not appear to be in any pain or anything else that could be described as out of the ordinary other than the fact that she was quite put out with his secrecy involving Eyghon. Reaching into his coat pocket, he extracted a jewel and, after speaking a quick activation incantation, he put it in close proximity to Buffy, waiting to see what reaction if any there was.
Nothing.
While more testing will be required, it does not appear as though the demonic residue has had any immediate effects on Buffy, he thought as he stepped back allowing himself at least SOME relief.
From what he'd read of the texts, the reason why Eyghon could only inhabit the bodies of the unconscious or the dead was because that was when a human's mental defenses were at their weakest. As long as a human was awake, their own natural protections would keep Eyghon out and, since Buffy had not been unconscious at any point of the fight, Eyghon's method of entry was blocked. He might need to make her remain conscious until he gave her a clean mystical bill of health but he felt that they had most certainly dodged a metaphorical bullet this day.
"O-KAY! Now that you've finished giving me a once over make with the 'splainy." Buffy demanded with the utmost insistence.
"I… I'm afraid I have something of a troubling past. One I did not wish to share with the rest if you since it was more than a little personal," he said, figuring that lying or stonewalling would only make Buffy press harder. "When I was young I had different dreams about what I wanted to do with my life that didn't involve the Watcher's Council. However it is a tradition among families that are a part of the Council that the sons inherit their father's position and follow in their footsteps. My father made it abundantly clear to me from a very young age what I would be doing with my life.
"Needless to say once adolescence set in I became determined to defy him so I left my studies and threw in with whatever disreputable group would have me. Eventually I became friends with a group and with one member in particular. Ethan Rayne," he said, approaching the harder part of the explanation. "We'd raise a commotion, cause trouble and dabble in whatever magic caught our fancy. There was a euphoria to it all, defying my father and the rules of society, that made me feel quite free. I should've known better.
"One day we learned of a demon summoning that could be performed that would give both the host and the other participants a greater high than anything we'd done thus far. It was the summoning for Eyghon the Sleepwalker," he said, finally dropping the name that had caused him to be afraid for so long. "Eyghon cannot exist in this reality on his own. He needs an unconscious body or a corpse in order to fully manifest, with it being best if it was the former with the person having a propensity for magic. Randall volunteered to be the host for the demon and we performed the summoning. We thought we were so prepared, thought that we had covered every angle, but we were fools. Eyghon swallowed Randall whole. We did our best to exorcise the demon from our friend but we failed and killed him in the process.
"After that the group shattered and walked away from that lifestyle. All except Ethan. I went back to my father, tail between my legs, begging him to accept me back and help me resume my path to being a Watcher. It was difficult but I worked hard and paid no heed to the more obedient classmates of mine who never passed up an opportunity to remind me of my disgraceful actions," he said, remembering those hard days. "It was one of the reasons I was surprised that I was assigned to be your Watcher. Normally the position would've been filled by someone who epitomized what the Council leadership thought a Slayer's Watcher should be. With the blemish on my record, most thought I would never receive such an esteemed position. Still, it is one I have come to cherish despite the various bouts of exasperation you occasionally cause."
"Then that was Eyghon I slayed?" Buffy asked, sounding a little stunned but also calm.
"In a host body, yes," he replied with a nod. "However without an unconscious body or a corpse to inhabit, we may have seen the last of it. It was one of the reasons why I was so concerned when you called and said that some of the… the 'goo' had gotten on your foot."
"You mean it could be POSSESSING ME!?" Buffy exclaimed.
"NO! No that is impossible. Every book I've ready on Eyghon makes it clear that it could only have possessed you if you'd been unconscious or deceased. Since neither was the case, it would have been impossible for it to gain entry into your body," he declared firmly and without doubt in his knowledge on the subject.
He'd had very good reasons after Randall's death to ensure that Eyghon would not rear its ugly head once more and ascertain why the summoning went as it had.
"That being said, I would like to ensure that he left no lingering taint on you that might cause you harm later. Some demon blood has the ability to pass on aspects of the demon to another," he said, broaching the next most immediate topic. "I think we can both agree that no traits that Eyghon could pass on would be beneficial to you in the least."
"Uh huh," Buffy said, sounding floored by what she'd been told.
Without further delay he began to set things up for the various diagnostic, cleansing and purification spells that would drive whatever lingering filth Eyghon might have left out of Buffy's body.
It was a little difficult since Xander and Willow began to ask questions about his past but he did his best to humor them while at the same time focusing on the task at hand.
…Oh, alright, he mostly focused on answering Willow's questions since they were more polite and not focused on discovering embarrassing facts about him that he'd prefer to keep to himself.
His hold was weak.
It had not been to his benefit to make the trip but he had been left with no choice.
It had either been this or banishment from the mortal realm until the next magic caster summoned him.
Nevertheless, all hope was not lost.
Every time the Slayer slumbered he would have an opportunity to expand his dominion within her body and, once his territory was larger than what she controlled, he could act openly.
Yesssss… the body of a Slayer will last quite a long while, he thought with glee as imagined the look of sorrow on Rupert's face. See you soon Ripper!
Sunnydale High School
The Student Lounge
The Next Day
Xander's POV
"Are you a people person, or do you prefer keeping your own company?'" he said, reading the question on his career aptitude test out loud. "Well, what if I'm a people person who keeps his own company by default?"
"So, mark 'none of the above'." Buffy said from her seat, working on her own test.
"Well, there are no boxes for 'none of the above'. That would introduce too many variables into their mushroom head, number-crunching little world," he said with annoyance at the latest task forced on him by the school.
"I'm sensing bitterness," Willow said as she sat down next to him.
"No, it's just these people can't tell from one multiple choice test what we're going to be doing for the rest of our lives," he said, explaining his annoyance. "It's ridiculous!"
"I'm kinda curious to find out what sort of career I could have," Willow said, obviously happy about anything that had to do with school, testing and anything academic.
"What, and suck all the spontaneity out of being young and stupid?" he asked with a bit of humor in his voice. "I'd rather live in the dark."
"You're not going to be young forever," Willow pointed out like she always did when he didn't look at the big picture.
"Actually, Willow, according to the flitting females at home, being half you know what means I'll likely live up to six times the average human male lifespan," he said, remembering what Knotgrass had told him awhile back.
It'd been one of the things he'd been curious about ever since he'd accepted that he was now half-fae. Aside from the shitty reaction to anything iron, there were other things he needed to know about in order to keep unpleasant surprises to a minimum. The prolonged lifespan was a big thing and, while he'd considered the possibility that he might now be immortal like Oberon's Children were said to be, this was quickly dismissed. While he might have dressed as The Puck for Halloween in reality he was a very different breed of fae and that meant that, while extremely long lived, it was possible to die of old age.
It'd just take a seriously long time even for a half-breed like him.
Fortunately for him food would not be as big an issue since being half human meant that it was safe to eat human food rather than seek out sustenance commonly eaten by fae. Thistlewit had then also pointed out that, due to his mixed heritage, it would be possible for him to sire children with a wider variety of women some of which needn't be completely human. This had caused him to do a spit take that nearly hit Knotgrass and Flittle before the two had expressed their disapproval at their longtime friend's broaching of a very personal topic.
As for him, while he was glad to hear that he'd have no trouble having a kid or three in the future, he'd likely keep his girlfriend criteria in the human territory. It wasn't that he didn't see the benefit of getting involved in someone who was only partially human, such as a lifespan comparable to his own, but he'd lived all of his life as a human.
It'd just be too weird getting involved with someone with horns, a tail or… okay, maybe he'd be a bit more expanding with his horizons given how Willow looked at night. Maybe he wouldn't avoid the mixed breeds forever but he'd ease his way into it until it no longer felt weird.
"'I aspire to help my fellow man,'" came the voice of one Cordelia Chase from behind. "Check. As long as he's not smelly, dirty or something gross."
"Cordelia Chase, always ready to give a helping hand to the rich and pretty," he mocked since anyone with a brain knew that 'fellow man' meant every member of the human race.
"Which, lucky me, excludes you. Twice," Cordelia said, firing a sizzling zinger at him.
"Well, considering what I've heard about your bedside manner, I think I'm the lucky one," he said, making sure he sounded completely happy not to be helped by her. "I mean, a guy can only put up with so much prep work before it just kills the mood."
"Looking at you would kill the mood," Cordelia said, firing back as her flunkies looked on.
"Yeah? Well I heard last week the church had to find some extra room 'cause they got six new guys looking to become priests, vow of celibacy and all," he said without any difficulty. "When asked what made them choose a life devoted to God, all they said was 'Cordelia'."
He could see Cordy struggling to come up with a comeback but, while she could go with the whole 'girls chose to be nuns after seeing you', it wouldn't have the same bite since it'd just be a variation of his. Lack of imagination would mean Cordelia would lose by default.
"Why am I wasting valuable breath AND time talking to a loser like you?" Cordelia asked rhetorically as though she still had the upper hand. "Come on, girls!"
With that Cordelia and her Cordettes strutted off like they owned everything they saw.
"I'd chalk that up as a win for me, wouldn't you?" he asked Buffy and Willow with a victorious smile on his face.
"Definitely," Willow replied a big, toothy smile on her face.
They all chuckled a bit before turning back to their tests, even though it was a complete waste of time in his opinion.
"Do I like shrubs?" Buffy asked out loud, no doubt repeating the question she was on.
"That's between you and your god," he said offhand even as he jotted down the answer to his current question.
"What'd you put?" Buffy asked Willow, looking over at the redhead.
"I came down on the side of shrubs," Willow replied, keeping on the side of her usual environmentalist habits.
"Go with shrubs! Okay!" Buffy said decisively before leaning back in her seat. "Uhhh! I shouldn't even be bothering with this. It's all mootville for me. No matter what my aptitude test says, we already know my deal."
"Yup, high risk, sub-minimum wage…" he said, summarizing the job description of a Slayer.
"Pointy wooden things…" she said, not sounding optimistic.
"Better than smooth long things like Harmony," he said with a bit of humor as some imagery came into his mind. "Then again, she'd probably like it a little too much."
Buffy and Willow needed a few seconds to take his words and figure out what he was implying but he knew precisely when they did.
After all, receiving a chastising punch on each shoulder confirmed it.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Xander," Buffy said with a bit of warning in her voice.
"What? We both know Harmony's reputation," he said innocently even though he wasn't going to make a similar comment again. "Do you really think she's qualified for anything else?"
"Well… no," Willow said, blushing red a little bit at the imagery going through her head. "But you still shouldn't go there."
With a shrug he went back to his test.
"If you don't see the point then why're you even doing it?" Willow asked after answering another of her questions.
"It's Principal Snyder's hoop of the week. He's not happy unless I'm jumping," Buffy replied, making her disdain of the troll all too clear. "Believe me, I would NOT be here otherwise."
"You're not even a teensy weensy bit curious about what kinda career you could've had?" Willow asked, sounding like she wanted her friend to consider the possibilities. "I mean, if you weren't already the Slayer and all."
"Do the words 'sealed in fate' ring any bells for you, Will? Why go there?" Buffy asked rhetorically, determined not to leave her funk.
"Y'know with that kind of attitude you could've had a bright future as an employee at the DMV," he said, shaking his pencil at her in disapproval of her pessimism.
"I'm sorry, it's just… unless Hell freezes over and every vamp in Sunnydale puts in for early retirement, I'd say my future is pretty much a non-issue," Buffy said even as she went back to her test in order to appease the troll.
"Don't be so sure," he said, determined to cheer her up, even if it was just a bit. "Before Halloween I figured I'd be lucky to get an above minimum wage job and my own apartment. Now look at me! I've got some serious mojo under the hood and I'll get to see if six generations is enough time to make the Chases into nice people."
That got a chuckle out of the Slayer and he could tell by the look in her eye that his own change of fortune had her wondering if she could experience something similar. He personally hoped so because, while he was more enthusiastic about fighting the good fight than she was, he could understand how her Calling could be more than a little rough on her. No one except a Goth would actually like having a potential death sentence dropped in their laps.
Still, Buffy had something all the Slayers that'd come before didn't have: friends.
And he didn't need to be a history buff to know that differences like that could make all the difference.
Sunnydale City Hall
Mayor Wilkins' POV
"Well, let's see… what excitement can I provide for Miss Summers now that helps the both of us?" he asked himself as he looked away from his scrying sphere.
It'd been a bit of a disappointment that Eyghon hadn't had the effect on the Slayer that he'd hoped it would, but then again he had to concede that without someone there to serve as a distraction, the old fiend had been at a disadvantage. A decaying body, after all, couldn't afford to move too quickly lest it tear itself apart. Nevertheless there was something good that came out of the encounter and, thanks to his efforts, he'd managed to conceal as well as protect it from Mister Giles' efforts. The Watcher believed and had no doubt told his young charges that Eyghon was indeed gone for good, but he knew the truth.
The sleepwalker was just waiting for the right moment to strike from within the Slayer and seize control.
The only potential problem with that plan was the fact that, should Eyghon successfully claim the body for his own and tap into the Slayer essence, he might very well try to seize control of Sunnydale.
THAT could not be allowed, not after all the hard work he'd put into reaching his ultimate goal.
However it went against his nature to help a White Hat with their problem, so the only alternative was to provide Eyghon with a measured amount of aid, then leave the rest up to chance. If he succeeded in taking Miss Summers' body then the demon would owe him a favor and he would make sure that the fiend would pay up before he did ANYTHING else. If the Slayer and her friends somehow managed to expel Eyghon in a way that was not lethal, his 'help' would make sure that she did not escape unchanged. Given the dramatic tendencies of the blonde girl, it would take her considerable time to come to terms with the after effects. Thus, so long as his minions didn't do anything to break through the fog of self-centered pitying that'd surround her during that timeframe, he'd be free to sneak a few operations right under her pert little nose undetected.
There would be risk involved but his grand plan was fraught with risks and he was still going through with it, so what was one more.
Perhaps a few more distractions might be called for, he thought with a pondering look before snapping his fingers in realization. And fortunately it will be all too easy to link to Drusilla the Mad.
Fortunately for him, the ones he intended to employ based the competency of the agents they sent on the amount of money offered as payment.
Thus he would offer just enough to gain agents capable of garnering the Slayer's complete attention while also not being beyond her ability to overcome with the help of her altered allies. While he could certainly afford those agents capable of killing a Slayer, he did not think it wise to do so. Miss Summers' obsession with being normal, her self-destructive tendencies and her lack of dedication to her training made her a far more favorable than a dedicated Council-raised Slayer. While the latter did have their flaws, such as rigid thinking and an inability to take action without the expressed approval of their Watcher, they tended to be more dangerous than the free range ones. Therefore by keeping Miss Summers alive and in Sunnydale, he stood a better chance of achieving his goal in a little over a year.
Walking over to his locked bookcase, he spoke a quick incantation before opening it and beginning his search for the appropriate dark tome.
He'd acquired so many over the years, so it took some time.
Sunnydale High School, Later
Buffy's POV
"You and Angel are going skating? Alone?" Willow asked as they walked across the quad.
"Yeah. He said he'd wanted to do it sooner but the rink had some renovations to finish," the replied, feeling upbeat just the same. "So everything's gonna be great unless some unforeseen evil pops up. But I'm in full 'see no evil' mode."
"Angel and ice skating," Willow said, sounding a little stunned.
"I know. Two worlds collide," the said in complete agreement since the activity didn't mesh with Angel's appearance very well.
"Would you two say you know me about as well as anyone else?" Xander asked as he joined them in the quad. "Maybe even better than I know myself?"
She had to join Willow in giving Xander a weird look before the redhead spoke up.
"What's THIS about?" Willow asked with a hint of confusion.
"When you look at me do you think 'bodyguard'?" Xander asked, sounding like he couldn't quite see it himself.
She couldn't help but giggle a bit at the image her mind conjured up of Xander in a suit, with sunglasses over his eyes and a spiraling wire going to his ear. Willow joined her and, while she felt a little bad given the reaction that her best male friend had on his face, it was still funny.
"Crossing guard maybe, but bodyguard?" she asked rhetorically before shaking her head in the negative.
"I guess you're right. Still, it's what they put on the postings for the career fair and, according to my results, I can look forward to being hired to put myself in harm's way on a daily basis," he said with a bit of sarcasm before taking on an optimistic look. "Hey maybe with a little luck I'll wind up getting hired by Neve Campbell or Winona Ryder!"
"Yeah, yeah!" she said, rolling her eyes at the typical male behavior.
"Hey, it could happen!" Xander exclaimed, defending his potential future. "Give me a couple of years to get through the training and make a rep for myself and one of'em is bound to ask me to protect their body."
She just shook her head, unwilling to say anything that might egg Xander on even more.
"Scoff all you want but, just so you know, they assigned you to the booth for law enforcement professionals." Xander said with more than a little amusement.
"As in police?" she asked, unable to be more stunned if she tried.
"As in polyester, doughnuts and brutality," he replied, enjoying the reversal of woe.
She couldn't help but whine a bit at what she'd have to go through soon. After all, the time she'd experienced wherein the Sunnydale Police Department proved to be either too cowardly or too corrupt she'd hate to have to spend ANY time with whatever representative they sent. Worse than that, the idea of having to spend eight hours a day in a blue uniform that had been designed in determined ignorance of the rules of fashion… getting drowned by the Master was beginning to sound preferable.
"But, doughnuts!" Willow declared, trying to make that sound like a plus.
"Well, I'll just jump off that bridge when I come to it," she said before spotting Giles walking through the halls with a stack of books in his arms. "First I have to deal with Giles. He's on this Tony Robbins hyper-efficiency kick. Expects me to check in every day after homeroom."
With that she walked off towards the library, figuring it'd be better to have the meeting there then start talking to Giles in the hallways where people could overhear. Even if Sunnydale Syndrome kept people from listening to most of what they said, what was heard and believed would be enough to make her sound even more freaky than most students already thought she was. It didn't bother her as much as it had a couple weeks after Merrick had started her training and her social standing at Hemery began to plummet, but it still hurt a bit. To go from being one of the social elite to an outcast was never pleasant, especially when the reason you were made an outcast was saving people from vampires and demons. With how many lives she'd saved, she SO deserved a big parade in a convertible with confetti and balloons everywhere as people on either side of the street thanked her enthusiastically.
Instead she'd probably be reduced to one of the many boring chapters in the Watcher archives to be forgotten inside of fifty years. Sure, her mom would remember her, along with her friends and Giles, but everyone else would forget.
She couldn't help but growl a bit at that.
Yes, she'd heard the 'service is its own reward bit' and she did feel a little good to know that she did the right thing, but sometimes it just wasn't enough. Not for all the shit she was put through in order to save lives or the world. Would it kill those Watcher's to send her a medal or maybe a plaque every time she prevented an apocalypse? Maybe even have this private building somewhere with this big circular room in the center with bronze heads of every Slayer who'd died saving the world? With how long Giles said that they'd been around, you'd think the Council would have more than enough money to show their appreciation for a Slayer saving the day.
Stuffy old Brits probably don't care one bit. 'Just doing what's expected is not worthy of a reward' they probably think! she thought angrily as she pushed open the doors of the library. Just another bullet to be fired.
Hearing talking coming from the office, she walked over to it all the while listening carefully to eavesdrop on what was being said.
"Do they have any idea of who else might've been sent?" Giles asked, sounding quite worried about the topic of conversation.
She couldn't hear what the response was but she could hear her Watcher getting out of his chair to begin pacing.
Not a good sign.
"Very well. Keep me apprised of any new information that pops up," Giles said, winding down the conversation. "I'll see what I can find out from more local sources."
With that the sound of the phone being hung up reached her ears so she waited patiently for Giles to emerge from his office so she could find out what was going on. She pushed her earlier anger to the side, knowing that while the other Watchers deserved it, Giles was doing all he could to help her and had been more understanding than she'd expected when she'd first met him. Until he proved himself to be no better than those that thought nothing of her dying so long as she kept the rest of the world spinning, she'd keep him blame free in her mind.
"So what's the what?" she asked as Giles exited his office.
"Buffy? Oh, good. I was hoping you'd show soon," Giles said, taking notice of her with a worried look on her face. "I just received some troubling news from the Council."
"What? Every bit of English tea has suddenly vanished from the planet, has been replaced with the American stuff and its two minutes to tea time?" she asked with a bit of a snark at what Brits would consider troubling.
"Hardly!" he replied, sounding like the very thought gave him the shivers. "I've just received word that three assassins from the Order of Taraka have been dispatched to Sunnydale. The Intelligence Division of the Council hasn't yet been able to determine who their target is but, considering their usual clientele, I fear it may be you."
"So? They come, I slay and then I go to the career fair to enjoy a presentation about my LOVELY future as a police officer," she said, not overly concerned about three new people coming to kill her.
Everything demonic and fangy that lived in Sunnydale was already trying to kill her, so what were three more in the grand scheme of things.
"This is serious, Buffy! The Order of Taraka's a society of deadly assassins dating back to King Solomon," he said with great severity. "Their credo is to sow discord and kill the unwary. They're a breed apart, Buffy. U-unlike vampires they have no earthly desires but to collect their bounty. They find a target, and, uh... they eliminate it. You can kill as many of them as you like, it won't make any difference. Where there's one, there will be another, and another. They won't stop coming until the job is done. Each one of them works alone and in their own way. Some are human, some... a-are not. Y-you won't know who they are until they strike."
"So what're you saying?" she asked, feeling a little more wary about what was likely coming her way.
"I-I think it might be best if we find someplace for you to hide out for a week or so," he replied, taking his glasses off to clean them. "Until we get a better idea of what we're up against and I can formulate a plan."
Run!? That was his plan!
"Giles, I know this is a big deal and everything but don't you think I can take them?" she asked, feeling a bit insulted that her skills as a Slayer were being dismissed.
"If they attacked you openly and directly I have little doubt you'd manage, but the number one rule of any assassin is to take the target by surprise," he replied, sensing her mood roughly. "Anyone can be slain, no matter how skilled, if they are taken by surprise. The only spot of luck you might have is that some of the assassins I've heard about enjoy playing with their prey rather than killing them as quickly and efficiently as possible."
"So my getting beat up or tortured is a good thing?" she asked, being of a very different opinion on that matter.
"The longer you're alive, the more likely I will be able to find you and come to your aid," he replied as gently as possible. "Also the longer the assassin takes, the more time you will have to turn the tables on him, her or it."
He had a point.
She still didn't like the idea of running, though. The Slayer was supposed to be this alpha predator, the thing that demons were afraid of, so it didn't make sense to run no matter how dangerous these Teriakian assassins were.
They should be AFRAID of her.
She would MAKE them afraid of her!
"No running, Giles. No hiding," she said with absolute resolve and deadly intent. "If they think killing a Slayer is going to be easy then I plan on changing their minds. PAINFULLY."
"But Buffy-" Giles tried to get out but she just turned away and left the library and him behind.
If these assassins wanted her dead then she was going to make them work for their kill and that was assuming she didn't manage to kill them instead.
All she needed was a plan and eyes in the sky courtesy of her friends.