Thursday March 22nd, 2007 ~ Waiting Room ~ Project Quantum Leap Compound ~ Stallion's Gate, New Mexico
The door to the Waiting Room slid open and Giles, who had been waiting with increasingly limited patience, jumped to his feet to greet Al.
"Did you find it?" Giles asked.
"Not exactly," Al told him. "Ziggy found an organization called COWS..."
Annoyed, Giles broke in, "I told you, the name of the organization is Council of Watchers, abbreviated COW. You've got the wrong..."
"Hey!" Al interrupted right back. "Who called my computer an 'infernal abomination'? You're lucky I managed to sweet talk her into searching for your precious Council at all. And, for your information, COWS stands for Congress of Watchers and Slayers. After she wiggled her way past some pretty nifty security, Ziggy found an archive of Council records that includes data from 2001. She's narrowing the search now."
"Really?" Giles responded, mollified. "'Congress of Watchers and Slayers'? How... progressive. And about bloody time, too. I wonder what prompted them to become so inclusive."
"Actually," Al replied. "A few years ago you seem to have..."
The appearance of a marine corporal with a thick sheaf of paper in his hands disrupted both men's interest in their conversation. He hurried over to Al and handed him the document.
"Gushie says most of the record was transcribed in June, 2001, Admiral," the young man informed Al. "But the text is labeled with the dates you specified; April 25th through May 4th, 2001."
Giles was only peripherally aware of Al thanking the man and the sound of the door opening and closing as he left. His attention was fixated on the stack of paper that would detail for him the stuff of his worst nightmares made real. Al moved toward him and offered the pages but Giles found it impossible to reach for them. He met Al's eyes and was both embarrassed and heartened by the sympathy he saw there.
"It's foolish, I know," Giles said, in a voice he could barely keep from trembling. "But, somehow, I feel as though, if I don't read it, it won't have happened. It won't be real." He took a deep breath and reached out, accepting the document from Al.
"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Al asked softly.
"No," Giles answered, surprised to realize he meant it. "I'd rather you didn't, if you don't mind."
Al gave him a brief nod. "I'll stick around."
Giles took another steadying breath and focused his attention on the first page. When he had finished reading it, he lifted the piece of paper and held it out toward the location he had last seen Al. After a moment, he looked up to see that Al had moved several yards away and was regarding him with astonishment.
Giles gestured with the page he held in his outstretched hand. "Come on, then," he prompted. "This involves you and your friend now. If we're to keep it from happening again, Sam will need as close to firsthand knowledge as we can provide."
Al's expression shifted to one of understanding and respect. He walked back to Giles, accepted the page from him and seated himself next to the other man on the low table.
Over an hour passed in almost complete silence. When Giles handed the final page to Al, he rose and paced quietly away. He kept walking slowly around the room, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what he had read and to maintain some semblance of control over his emotional response to it. A few minutes later, his reverie was broken by the sound of a voice.
"Jesus," Al moaned. "Holy Mary mother of God."
Giles moved back around the room and came to a stop in front of Al who had remained seated and was unwrapping a cigar with shaking fingers. He didn't even attempt to light it, but fiddled with it in his hands as he looked up at Giles.
"Do... do you think you, uh, dictated that to someone or that they interviewed you and the others?" Al asked, nervously.
Giles shook his head. "No. I wrote it. I'm certain of that. I recognize my style and turn of phrase. In fact, if I still had any doubts about your veracity, that would have alleviated them," he added pointing at the uneven stack of paper resting on the table next to Al.
"Christ," Al intoned in a shaky voice. He gave Giles an uneasy glance. "I... I'm sorry Giles, but that really threw me. I just can't believe you could be so..."
"Cold-blooded?" Giles asked.
Al grimaced. "I was going to say detached, but cold-blooded works. I mean, if Sam... If I had to..." He gave Giles a look that suggested he was revising his opinion of the other man's character. "How could you write that...?" Al swallowed heavily. "So soon after she… she… and why were you so sure it existed in the first place?"
Giles offered him a grim smile. "A few months ago, Buffy had a close call. She was decidedly shaken by the brutal reminder of a Slayer's brief life expectancy. She was so affected; she actually initiated research of her own accord."
Despite his upset, Al responded to the dry humor in Giles' voice and the twinkle of affection in his eye. "What did she research?" he asked.
"She had me pull out all the old Watcher's diaries I had and anything that mentioned previous Slayers, however slightly, in an attempt to discover any pattern that might be discernible in the manner of their deaths. She wanted to avoid repeating their mistakes or lapses in judgment," Giles explained. "Buffy was quite vocal in registering her disdain with my predecessors and their failure to record, with any degree of detail, their Slayer's final battle."
"She didn't understand why they wouldn't... couldn't...?" Al began, incredulously.
"Not at first," Giles confirmed. "But, ultimately, yes."
Al nodded in dawning realization. "You decided..."
"Vowed," Giles interjected. "I vowed that, should the unthinkable occur, I would give her a legacy unlike any other Slayer." He felt a tear, alone among many others that had gathered in his eyes, crest over a lower eyelid and slide down his cheek.
Al glanced away and cleared his throat, but his voice was still thick when he spoke. "And because you kept your promise, we might be able to find a way to keep it from happening," he said, reverently laying a hand on the pile of paper.
"Must find a way," Giles corrected him. "Let's get to it."
"So we're agreed," Giles stated. "Our best chance at defeating Glory is to kill her while she is in her Ben persona." He shook his head. "All along I wondered why she didn't press her advantage when we experienced a setback and it turns out the answer was her Achilles' heel."
"Yeah," Al agreed, somewhat irritably. "I think we've fully explored the irony of the situation, but what we need to figure out is how to get someone to kill an apparently random, innocent guy."
"Much as I hate to admit it, I believe Spike is our best chance," Giles said with chagrin. "You can explain the problem to Sam, while Spike is present, and hopefully Sam will retain the information long enough to pass it on."
Al snapped his fingers. "The guy in there," he said pointing at the mess of papers that were strewn across the low table. "The first one who could remember that Ben was Glory," Al screwed up his face in thought. "Why was he able to do that, way before anyone else could?"
"Perhaps because he's a vampire," Giles replied. "Being undead and possessed by a demon may render him immune to her influence. Glory does have demon minions and it would be, at a minimum, inconvenient for her if they were unable to recognize the alter ego of their mistress," he reasoned.
"A vampire!" Al yelped. "You want us to work with one of those things? Are you trying to get Sam killed, in addition to Buffy?" Al accused.
"Of course not," Giles snapped. "While I admit Spike is both immoral and malicious he nonetheless has been of assistance to us in the past. Prompted by his own nefarious motivations, to be sure; but he can be relied upon to perform any task that runs parallel to his own interests."
"Which are?" Al countered, unconvinced.
"Most notably, to extort money for blood, liquor and cigarettes and to win Buffy's affection," Giles informed him.
"I can see you going along with the money part, but you're okay with the other?" Al inquired, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.
"Hardly," Giles assured him in a sour voice. "But, as I said, when properly motivated he has proven to be invaluable."
"Okay," Al agreed, grudgingly. "If you're sure this is a good idea. How do we go about finding this pet vampire of yours?"
"He's not a pet anything and you'll do well to keep that in mind," Giles cautioned. "As for finding him, it's quite rare that one need expend any effort in that regard. Rather, he's most decidedly present whether one likes it or not," Giles said, sardonically.
"Buffy did mention him the first night Sam was there," Al nodded, remembering. "Something about how she didn't plan to invite him to stay with her. I haven't heard anyone else mention him," Al shrugged. "I guess he either hasn't been around or we saw him and didn't know who he was. What does he look like?"
"He appears to be around thirty, affects a working-class English accent, slim, short bleach-blond hair," Giles told him. "He smokes, wears black almost exclusively - usually a T-shirt, jeans, heavy boots and a leather duster."
As Giles rattled off the description, Al had become increasingly disturbed. He was now staring at the taller man, his mouth hanging slightly open. Giles misinterpreted the cause of Al's apparent dismay.
"Oh, and you needn't be concerned about him hurting Sam. The Initiative scientists implanted a microchip in his brain. If he attempts to harm any living creature, other than a demon, it inflicts debilitating pain," Giles added, hoping to reassure the other man. It didn't appear to be working. "Is something wrong?" he asked, when Al's stare began to annoy him.
"Uh, maybe," Al said. "Does he hang out in Restfield cemetery and call you 'Watcher'?"
"Why, yes," Giles nodded. "He lives in a crypt in a section of Restfield that was, interestingly enough..." he trailed off as the shocked expression on Al's face changed to one of guilt.
"Oops," Al said, fidgeting and looking anywhere except at Giles.
"What now?" Giles demanded.
Al let out a long sigh and related an abbreviated account of Sam's first patrol. When he had finished, a hushed silence settled over the room but it only lasted a moment.
"You staked him?" the Watcher roared, rising from his seat and looming over the smaller man.
"I didn't, Sam did," Al qualified, then seemingly realized how that sounded. "Not that I wouldn't have done it if our places had been reversed. He was a vampire," Al reminded Giles, refusing to be intimidated by the other man's size or demeanor. Al held his ground, meeting Giles' furious glare with steely determination.
"But one that couldn't cause you physical harm," Giles countered, incensed that their best chance at defeating Glory and saving Buffy had been obliterated by the interference of Al and Sam.
"It's not like we knew that, Mr. 'I-Won't-Tell-You-Anything'," Al shot back, with righteous indignation. "You're at least as much to blame for this mess as we are."
Giles subsided as he acknowledged the truth of that statement. In all fairness, he couldn't blame Sam for accomplishing something he and Buffy had failed at repeatedly over the years. For every time Spike had assisted them there were at least as many where he had duped them, subverted their efforts to do good or tried to kill them outright. Even after he had been 'neutered' by the Initiative he had nearly accomplished their deaths more than once.
"I apologize," Giles told Al sincerely.
"Okay," Al agreed. "But, you know, no sense crying over spilt milk, uh, dusted vampire. We just need to figure out something else."
They talked it over for another half an hour without coming to a solution either of them felt confident would succeed. Finally, Al summed up the source of their frustration in one sentence.
"Even if I explain it to Sam or Anya and they tell Buffy who Ben really is, none of them will remember long enough to understand why they should kill him." Al stalked away, combing his fingers through his hair in agitation. He stopped and let out a long sigh.
"And?" Giles prompted, sensing that something else had been bothering Al.
Al turned sharply. "And I don't like the idea of asking Sam to do it, even if he could remember long enough."
Before Giles could muster an argument Al continued.
"Sam is a good guy. A hero," Al said firmly. "The real kind. He's honest and decent clear through. It'll kill him, or at least something vital in him, to have to do this."
"Glory sealed Ben's fate the moment she merged with him in order to manifest herself, physically, in this world. Do you honestly think she won't kill him if she is allowed to return to her dimension? Even if she doesn't, he will be doomed to live out a life of torment in hell," Giles reasoned quietly.
"I get that, Giles," Al assured him, tiredly. "I really do. If it were me or... you..." He looked up tentatively.
"Yes," Giles responded, without rancor. "We understand the moral dilemma of the lesser of two evils."
"Both sides. Intimately," Al agreed. "And neither one of us wants Buffy or Sam to have the same education. Do we?"
Giles was silent for a long time. "Sam may have already changed the course of events by being there in my place. If we do nothing, Glory may kill thousands when she opens the portal, perhaps millions, including Sam and Buffy."
"Or Buffy might still find a way to stop her," Al said.
"If she dies, will Sam Leap?" Giles asked him.
Al nodded. "He's... he's failed before."
"I see," Giles said. He sighed and suddenly felt exhausted and unsettled. His previous exultation when they had discovered his journal entries and thought an acceptable answer to the problem of Glory might be in reach had waned once more into the realization that he was still helpless to effect any direct action from where he was – and he didn't seem to be much more successful at providing a viable strategy that was entirely acceptable, either. "We can continue to discuss this as long as you like," Giles added, in a defeated tone. "But I suppose you realize the final decision is entirely in your hands."
"Yeah," Al replied heavily. "I get that, too."
End Part 14