Part 7

It was slow going. The Watchers had been keeping diaries for roughly three thousand years, and had been handing them down through the council for almost as long. Giles' collection was, admittedly, incomplete, but still formidable. There were approximately 300 volumes stuffed into the wooden boxes, in over eighty languages, some of them dead, some of them merely obscure. Luckily, all they were looking for was a reference to a proper name, so Buffy, Xander and Willow could muddle through texts written in Roman lettering, while Giles and Anya took the ones in Hebrew or Aramaic, Sumarian, Chinese, Greek, Russian, and every other imaginable language that uses an alphabet dissimilar to ours. Even then, their comprehension was only about fifty per cent, and their fatigue, once set upon them, was unrelenting.

It was another full forty-eight hours of working nearly round-the-clock before there was any news from the Watcher Diaries. Fortunately, Buffy's patrol had not yielded any more meetings with the indomitable Miss Dunver. Buffy suspected that this was not luck, that the ridiculously strong vampire had simply chosen not to fight (or cripple) the Slayer again for a bit. Buffy had no doubt that if Ogha wanted to find her, she'd have no problem.

So, two nights later, after the coffee was gone, the Thai food had run out and Anya had fallen asleep drooling on Giles' throw pillows, Xander said quietly, almost matter-of-factly, "Oh, here she is."

"Who?" Willow asked, not really expecting to hear the answer they all longed for.

"Nancy Reagan," Xander said, looking squarely at Willow with an annoyed look.

"What?"

"Ogha Dunver, you goof," he said, rolling his eyes. "This volume makes mention of her, right here."

The whole gang laid aside their texts, and came to sit around Xander. Even Anya came alive for the event.

"What does it say?" Buffy asked, urgently.

"I, uh, haven't actually read it yet. I was too busy announcing the good news."

Giles took the text from Xander's lap and stared at it. "This is from a Watcher called Delbert Ayres, based in Ireland... only about ten years ago. This is his last entry, dated 10th October, 1991."

"Uh, why didn't anyone think to look at the Irish diaries first?" Buffy asked the room, scolding herself as well as the others.

Giles ignored the comment. "It says, 'Dear reader, I think this shall be my last bit of writing for the Watcher Diaries. After this, I shall write a farewell letter to my lovely Alice, still in Soho, awaiting my return. I should have known that I'd never be able to go home.

"Ogha appeared again last night at my door – this is the third time in as many nights. I still have not invited her into my home, but the next time I see her, I will. I cannot live this way; only leaving my home during daylight, knowing that she is out there, murdering and mutilating, and that it's my fault yet there is nothing I can do to stop her. I know that only the threshold of my door keeps me safe from a violent death at her hands, and I have no fight left in me. My heart cannot take seeing her again, and so I shall tonight let her drain my life. More important than anything is the fact that her very presence reminds me that I have failed as a Watcher, and I cannot live with that, not for one more day. Thankfully, I will not have to. I hereby pass the torch as of tonight. Please forgive me, future readers, and above all, please forgive me, Ogha Dunver.' "

"Suicide by vampire?" Xander asked. "That's an interesting concept."

"Because he feels that he failed as Watcher," Giles whispered, contemplatively.

"Do you think Ogha killed his Slayer?" Buffy asked. "She certainly has the means."

"But then why would he say 'forgive me Ogha Dunver?'" asked Anya.

"Let's go back to the beginning of Ayres' entries and see if we can't get the whole story," Willow suggested.

Giles flipped backwards in the book until the handwriting changed, and he stopped. "Here were are. 'Beginning of the Narrative of Delbert Ayres, 5th April, 1985.

"The Slayer has today finally made herself known to me. She ran from her family last night, and arrived on my doorstep this morning, saying she'd been sent by a shifty man with a cane. Once I explained her true calling, she showed no sign of disbelief, and actually did not seem in the least surprised. Scepticism aside, truthfully, I think she is glad to be away from her family, the bunch of stoic religious fanatics that they are. She says she will never return to them – I must agree with her decision.

"We began with an Eastern meditiation, which the Slayer found to be very tedious, but I explained that it was essential to find her center, in order to focus her energies and concentrate her power. Once this was done, she was extremely eager to learn, and is delighted to have a purpose. She is plucky, bright and shall be a delightful partner.

"For posterity's sake: The Slayer is fifteen years old, born on 12th December, 1969. She was called nearly thirty days ago, on 8th March, 1985. She has reddish-blonde hair, green eyes and answers to the name of Ogha Dunver."