Okay, I couldn't resist. This chapter features Tobias MacGowan, who I imagine as being played by Sean Maher (Simon Tam from Firefly and Serenity). Just like with Sophia and Demetri, though, he doesn't necessarily have the same backstory that he had when I used him in "Season 9", even though his personality is basically the same.
For Buffy, falling asleep was like walking through a door and into the room where Angel was. Sometimes she had trouble getting the door open, usually due to the eagerness she was still somewhat ashamed of, but she always managed it in the end. Once on the other side, she found him as he usually was, and her eyes softened.
It took her several minutes to notice that his right hand seemed to be clenched around something. Whatever it was, he was holding it too tightly for her to catch even the tiniest glimpse of it, no matter which angle she tried to see it from. Finally, she gave up and looked at his face instead. Apart from the times she found him asleep, she had never seen his features so serene in one of these dreams.
[o]
Returning the ring to Angel had afforded Wesley a sense of peace that was better than closure. Neither of them mentioned it during the fortnight that had elapsed since Christmas, but now something else was troubling him. Unfortunately, he could not get his answers from Angel, nor indeed from any of the Council's resources. He looked down at the memo Travers had sent him, which granted him permission to go on research leave. Every Watcher was allotted a set amount of time for such a purpose every year, but as Wesley hadn't used any of his since becoming a Watcher, he had a full two months he could devote to the problem. Hopefully it wouldn't take quite that long, but he was prepared to spend every last day he had been allotted if he had to.
Wesley's self-appointed quest, however, did have one rather significant drawback. It meant that he would have to delegate his responsibility over Angel to someone else for the time he was gone. He trusted many of his fellow Watchers, but sincerely doubted that they would see eye to eye with him about the lonely vampire in the dungeons, no matter how well he explained Angel's special circumstances to them. There was no chance of finding someone to fill his role as Angel's friend and confidante, but Wesley did know one Watcher who had been in his graduating class at the Academy and who shared his views about the unnecessary brutality that was the tournament. It was a start.
"Tobias," said Wesley quietly.
Tobias MacGowan had dark hair and was a few inches shorter than Wesley, though they were of about the same build. For an American, he did a surprisingly good job of imitating the stiff mannerisms of his English colleagues at headquarters. Wesley had worked with him before, and felt reasonably comfortable in counting him an ally.
"What is it?" Tobias asked, not taking his eyes off the old scroll he was translating from Mandarin Chinese into English.
"Erm, has Travers been keeping you especially busy lately?" asked Wesley tentatively.
"Not really. Why?"
"I was hoping you'd be able to take over my prisoner maintenance duties while I'm on research leave," he said.
"Shouldn't be a problem. What did you get leave for?"
"Oh, nothing in particular. I'll be going abroad, though, and I obviously won't be able to keep feeding Ang—Angelus." He had almost referred to him as "Angel", but caught himself just in time.
Tobias, still half-focused on the scroll, didn't notice. "Anything I should know?" he asked.
"Oh, er, yes," said Wesley. "You'll just need to get the keys from Mr. Travers every morning and give Angelus one of the containers from the icebox down there. I put a fresh block in yesterday, so with any luck, you won't have to worry about replacing it before I return." he hesitated. Knowing Tobias, he was sure he wouldn't question the large bottles of blood in the icebox, but he didn't want him to be needlessly jumpy around Angel either. "He's actually quite amiable, for a vampire. Nothing like Erebus, at any rate." They both shuddered. "I've found that if you treat him like a human being, he won't be any trouble."
"Sounds good," said Tobias. He sounded willing enough, despite his obvious indifference.
[o]
Buffy didn't know what was going on, and she didn't like it. Patrol last night had been a disaster. As if it wasn't enough to be completely off her slaying game, her father wouldn't be able to take her to the ice show for her birthday. And, to cap it off, Giles had started a new facet of training that involved memorizing crystals. What good was that ever going to do her?
[o]
"You're leaving?" asked Angel, forgetting about the uncorked bottle that was currently halfway to his mouth.
"Only temporarily," said Wesley apologetically. "I might be back in as little as a week, but I really don't know at this point. You won't have to worry about being put back on those pitiful rations again, though I'm afraid you'll have to forgo the books. The Watcher who shall be taking my place is a former classmate of mine. Tobias MacGowan. He's a decent enough chap, if a bit self-important. He certainly won't be like Smith."
"Good," said Angel, scowling.
[o]
But Wesley's careful preparations came to little use. Tobias had only had charge over Angel for one day when Quentin, along with Blair and Hobson, came down to the dungeon, the latter two wielding tranquilizer guns and manacles that were obviously designed to restrain him during travel. Angel had heard them saying something about the Cruciamentum on the way to his cell. He'd almost forgotten about that, but it seemed that it was upon him at last. He thought briefly of trying to escape, but when he couldn't think of anywhere to escape to, he gave the notion up.
He had time to snarl menacingly at them before two tranquilizer darts hit him squarely on the chest, and everything went black.
[o]
Giles had never been more repulsed by his own actions than he was now. And yet, two evenings in a row, he had administered the muscle-relaxing drug to Buffy while pretending not to know what was wrong with her. Feeling utterly wretched, he went to the old boarding house on the outskirts of town, which was where Buffy's Cruciamentum was to be held.
Once there, he knocked twice on the door and was told to enter. Inside, he found Quentin Travers, who seemed to be directing two underlings in the boarding up of windows.
"Good day, Rupert," he said.
"I'm not sure I'd call it that," replied Giles coolly. They sat down to tea.
Quentin frowned at him. "You're having doubts," he said. It was a disapproving statement, rather than a question. He heaved a sigh. "Cruciamentum is not easy... for Slayer or Watcher. But it's been done this way for a dozen centuries whenever a Slayer turns eighteen. It's a time-honored rite of passage."
"It's an archaic exercise in cruelty," said Giles bluntly. "To lock her in this...tomb.... Weakened, defenseless. And to unleash a vampire on her."
"Oh, it isn't just any vampire," said Quentin. Giles looked at him sharply. "I was impressed by the report you sent me in September. In my whole time on the Council, I have never heard of a Slayer of the same caliber that yours seems to be. Consequently, we have something very special for her."
"What are you talking about?" asked Giles, his eyes narrowed.
"I won't spoil the surprise for you just yet, but the vampire she will face was the winner of last fall's tournament and is a master."
Giles stood up angrily. "Buffy has already been killed by a master vampire once, and you intend to pit her against one without her strength?"
Quentin stood up too, not at all fazed by Giles's outrage. "This is precisely why you're not qualified to make this decision," he said. "You're too close."
"That's not true," Giles argued.
Quentin looked a little impatient now. "A Slayer is not just physical prowess. She must have cunning, imagination, a confidence derived from self-reliance. And believe me, once this is all over, your Buffy will be stronger for it."
"Or she'll be dead for it," Giles snarled, then turned on his heel and left without another word.
[o]
When Angel came to, he was chained in an unfamiliar room with cracked stone walls and a very dirty floor. The place smelled rather strongly of mold, and he could hear three heartbeats somewhere above him. With a sudden rush of panic and loud clinking of chains, he felt inside his pockets frantically, and almost collapsed with relief when his fingers closed over Buffy's ring. It was still there. Feeling marginally better, he looked around and spotted a small bag of blood identical to the ones Smith had once given him, which he drained in two gulps.
He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious or where he'd been taken, but his new setting filled him with a sense of foreboding. His desire to escape, which had been almost nonexistent in the dungeon of the Council's headquarters due to his constant lethargic depression and grief, was now rising. It rose still further when he noticed an encouraging sign, in that the door at the top of the stairs near where he was chained was not covered in crosses as his old cell door had been.
[o]
Giles's drive home was interrupted by a screaming girl running into the street. It took him only a second to realize that the girl was Buffy, and another to realize that she was being pursued. He slammed his foot down on the brake pedal, and his old gray Citroën squealed loudly in protest as it came to a halt. "Get in!" he shouted. Buffy didn't need telling twice. The vampires still on her tail, she dove into the passenger side of the car, and he punched it before she could even close the door.
He looked at Buffy, white and trembling on the seat next to him. Quentin's test be damned; he wasn't doing this to her any longer.
[o]
An hour later, Giles sat alone in his office. Buffy's expression of betrayal when he told her what he had done had almost broken him, and it certainly seemed to have broken her. He felt a rush of fury towards his employer. That man saw Buffy as nothing more than a weapon, but underneath the calling, she was just a girl. She had a hard enough life without being manipulated by the people she trusted.
Feeling slightly more confrontational about it than he might have been if he hadn't just drank quite a lot of brandy, he picked up his phone and dialed Quentin's number.
"Hello?"
"Quentin," he said, then launched into his attack without further preamble. "The test is off. I've told Buffy everything."
"That is in direct opposition to the Council's orders!" said Quentin. The usually even-tempered man sounded genuinely angry, which afforded Giles a deep sense of satisfaction. This was squashed immediately, however, by Quentin's next words. "I've prepared too long for this to let your personal feelings get in the way. You are not the head of this Council and we will continue this Cruciamentum without you if we must."
Giles tried to reply, but Quentin had already terminated the call.
[o]
"Blair, Hobson," said Quentin after hanging up the phone. They jumped to attention, looking anxious. "As you may have gathered, the man isn't cooperating. You know what to do."
"Yes, sir," they said in unison. They retrieved their tranquilizer guns and left the boarding house at once.
The first person to guess what Wesley's up to gets an imaginary cookie. But I suppose you're all more interested in getting to the next chapter. Typical. Oh, by the way, the vamps chasing weakened Buffy did not include Kralik or Hobson, obviously, as she killed Kralik in the last chapter and Hobson was never turned in this version of events. These vamps were just some of those random nameless, run-of-the-mill vamps that always seem to be close at hand in Sunnydale.