There was, Giles thought on reflection, as he climbed into the shower much later that night, a very good reason why phrases such as "stubborn as a Slayer" and "useless as a worried Watcher" had become clichés.
There were too many situations where they were simply bloody true.
And he knew, as a Watcher who prided himself on thorough research, that when walking up on the scene of a demon attack what wasn't happening was nearly as important as what was.
Not that he had ever been able to convince Buffy of this. The Slayer, like all that had come before her, and likely all that would come after, was a creature of action with little patience for analysis. Research was for lesser mortals.
A resigned sigh slipped out as he bent his head under the hot spray from the shower head, remembering...
The cemetery, while never a bustling sort of place, had been utterly silent, without even the confused squawks of late-evening birds or the muted mutter of traffic and pedestrians from a few streets over. The residents of Sunnydale, both human and animal, were well accustomed to the taint of evil in their midst, though few enough were aware of its source. After years on the Hellmouth, most had a well developed sixth sense of avoiding the really dangerous places. Probably the only reason the town still had any population at all. Even with a random demon attack, there should have been some sort of noise rather than this eerie silence. Unless this was something worse than a simple attack.
This should have been the first clue.
They had met up with Oz at the entrance to the cemetery. Giles had insisted that he and Buffy be the only ones to enter the graveyard, reasoning that with the lack of training in the others and the unknown situation, the risk to them was too great. None of them had been thrilled with being left behind but they recognized their own limitations. Xander had compromised with the insistence that they would be ready and waiting to spring into action on the cue of one scream meant "help" and two screams meant "help, now!"
The last wisps of daylight had faded from the sky as they had hurried to Restever and now the night was lit only by the street and path lights, but the Watcher and Slayer had moved through the stones and monuments with practiced precision. In addition to the complete silence, the cemetery was completely deserted. Which was not a terribly unique state of affairs and so it hadn't clicked until much later why precisely the utter emptiness of the graveyard was so worrying. In an ordinary demon attack, victims-or parts of them-were left strewn about. Even those that consumed their prey left blood spatters. And there were precious few demons who didn't take food back to their nests for later.
That was the second clue.
In the center of the cemetery, a crumbling mausoleum stood with doors ajar, spilling a sickly white light onto the grass. Giles had stopped short, examining, thinking, racking his brain for any recalled tidbit of research that might help.
Buffy on the other hand, crept onward, intent on the mausoleum.
"Buffy!" Giles hissed, hurrying after and catching up with her at the next tombstone. "What is your plan?" Desperation to make her stop, to listen, to think, clawed through him with an intensity that was frightening all on its own. He had always worried about her on patrols. How could be not? But the depth of this fear was alarming.
The stakes were different now.
Seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil, she shook her head. "Don't really have one. How about 'don't die'?"
Stung by her cavalier attitude and his own fear, he growled angrily. "Can you please be bloody serious about this?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Giles, I am serious. This thing has been killing people and needs to be put down. Now. I'm gonna go do the 'put-downing'. Are you coming or not?" Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heel and dashed on. Giles bit back a curse and loaded his crossbow as he ran after her, the fear for her safety and anger at her attitude roiling in his gut.
And so as they entered the rotting building, the third clue that they were walking into a trap had gone straight over their heads.
Giles had no defense against the self-accusation that he should have bloody well known better than to walk in without checking the corners. None except the threadbare excuse of being distracted by an infuriating Slayer...
The mausoleum door had swung wide, revealing... a rip in the air. It was as though the fabric of space had been torn. This then was the source of the light. Through the tear, a rocky tunnel could be seen, the walls emanating the wan light.
There was a sudden giggle behind them and Buffy spun immediately, dropping into a fighting stance, a knife appearing in her hand as though from thin air, Giles following suit immediately, crossbow snapping into position and searching the shadows methodically.
In a shallow alcove above the door, a small demon grinned down at them. It resembled nothing so much a monkey, albeit a monkey with a mouth crammed full of too many razor fangs and crimson fur. The little demon giggled again as it waved cheerfully at them, blue energy crackling over its talons. "Oh, you humans. So predictable. My master will be so pleased." It clapped its hands in child-like glee and bounced in place.
Giles frowned, thinking hard, even as he took aim at the thing. "And who precisely is your master?"
"Ah, ah!" the beast tittered, shaking one bony finger. "That would be telling! But I will say this," it commented as he gripped the stone ledge with cracked talons. "he was so hoping to net the Watcher and the Slayer! So kind of the two of you to oblige."
Buffy snarled and threw the dagger she carried. In the moment before the point would have made impact, the demon vanished, reappearing immediately on a stone coffin to Buffy's right. She whirled immediately, lashing a kick at the demon's head, but it raised one taloned paw almost lazily and she froze, mid-motion.
With a snarl, Giles fired the crossbow but the bolt was batted from the air with one swift motion of the demon's other paw, and then Giles was frozen as well, the crossbow clattering to the ground from his suddenly nerveless fingers.
The little demon hopped down from its perch, muttering to itself. "Should have known. Watcher and Slayer... Should have guessed they'd be more trouble than regular humans. Stupid."
It looked up at Giles, tiny face twisted into a scowl. "I really hope the master knows what he's doing with you two. If it were up to me, I'd kill you here and now." It sighed expansively, "Oh, well. Time to go, humans." It started to flex its paws, the bolts of energy increasing in frequency and size. The air filled with the scent of ozone, before it paused a moment as if in thought. "And don't worry too much. This won't kill you. It's just to make you more transportable." It grinned. "Gonna hurt like all the hells, though!"
With a gesture of the thing's paws, the crackling energy had leapt to Watcher and Slayer, searing fire along every nerve. Giles had collapsed to the floor of the tomb twitching, unable to do more than whimper. The last thing he had seen before blackness swept over his vision had been Buffy's frightened face, that fear lancing through his heart more painfully than the agony already searing through him...
As Giles understood it, only the timely interference of Oz and a rather large rock had saved them from whatever fate awaited on the other side of the portal. He had awoken some time later with a splitting headache and Willow shaking his shoulder, calling his name in a terrified voice. Everything had hurt but they were alive, yet again, despite the odds. And the little demon was... not. There was a stinking smear on the floor of the crypt under a chunk of masonry.
In response to Giles' questioning look, Xander had admitted, somewhat sheepishly, that they had begun following almost immediately. They had arrived just after Buffy and Giles had collapsed and Oz had promptly taken advantage of the element of surprise to apply a nearby broken chunk of the crypt to the demon's head. The corpse and the rift had promptly vanished and they had set about trying to revive Buffy and Giles.
They had both opted to forgo the hospital in favor of simply going home. Willow in particular had been opposed to that idea but Buffy had insisted that all she wanted was a shower and to sleep. Giles had concurred. With the attack over, he was left with an ache in every muscle and he wanted a hot shower with a fierce longing.
Willow had finally been swayed by the argument that the doctors would, in all likelihood have questions that could not be answered and she had given in on Giles' solemn promise to go to the hospital immediately if any alarming symptoms manifested.
Now, as the deliciously hot water cascaded over him, Giles found himself grinning ruefully. Once again, they had defied the odds and come out... perhaps not on top, but alive. It would have been vastly preferable to find out who the little demon's master had been and what it had wanted with the Watcher and the Slayer, but there was little chance of that now. For now... they had survived.
The realization suddenly slammed down on him, and he choked back a sudden sob, the adrenaline having worn off sufficiently that he could fully process not just the events of the night but their implications. The sudden sound of the curtain being drawn back startled him as Buffy stepped into the shower and slid her hands up his back before pressing close.
Her voice was a teasing, sultry giggle. "Is there room in here for two?"
"Of- of course." He thought he controlled the hitch in his voice but she tensed against his back and Giles knew he was caught.
"Giles, what's wrong?"
Briefly, he considered prevaricating but, with a sting, he remembered her so recent words...
Trust me to work things out with you.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke, quietly, painfully. "Buffy, tonight, I was more afraid for you than I've ever been." She was silent for long moments and he forged ahead. "I have been frightened for you before but never like this. You protect, love. It's what you do. But it's my job to help you. Please let me do that. Please let me do my job of trying to keep you safe. I never could have borne to lose you. But now..." He paused, chest heaving with emotion and Buffy's gentle hands pressed against his shoulders, his arms, until he turned to face her. Giles looked down into the earnest blue eyes peering up at him and he reached up to trace his fingertips over her cheek.
Buffy leaned her cheek into his caress. "I promise," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Giles. I didn't even think of how much I might be worrying you. I was just in 'there's-a-demon-kill-it' mode." She looked so abashed that Giles had to smile. Her lips quirked into a mischievous grin suddenly, "Can't promise I'll ever be happy about research, though."
He chuckled and returned her grin, rolling his eyes. "Heaven forbid."
Buffy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, sharing the water stream. Giles returned the embrace, content to simply be there with her and content in having more or less escaped unscathed.
There was no warning as sudden vertigo surged through him and reality seemed to shift alarmingly. Giles shot out one hand, blindly groping for the tiled wall, desperate for anything to steady himself. Buffy seemed as disoriented, clinging to him tightly, her breath coming in small, alarmed sounding pants.
"Buffy, what-?"
"Giles? The hell-?"
His words cut off by another dizzying shift, Giles swayed, struggling mightily to keep his feet. He could feel the water still sluicing over his shoulders, Buffy's arms wrapped around him and his own alarm and panic. But at the same time it felt as though he shrank, the water from the shower head running over his hair, his gasping breaths heaving out of a heavy chest. As the disorienting sensations faded, Giles cautiously looked down at Buffy, braced against another wave of vertigo. The barely contained alarm in her eyes was not reassuring. Clearly he was not the only one affected by this-whatever it was.
"We need to get out of the shower before another one of those-those whatever that was happens."
He nodded in mute agreement, reaching back and shutting off the water before they both stepped cautiously from the tub, painfully aware of the possibility of falling with another round of vertigo. Once they were both out of the tub, Giles reflexively pulled towels from the rack, turning back to hold one out to Buffy. Reality seemed to shift dizzyingly once more as Giles abruptly seemed to be gazing at himself... through Buffy's eyes.
Proper perception slammed back into place and he saw Buffy staring at him with wide, frightened eyes as she said, "Ok, what the hell is going on here?!"