__Benefits__
By Jolene Beasley
"It’s gonna be like a second honeymoon!" Buffy bounced, trying to stay in place in line, but she was too excited to stand still. The check-in counter at the airline was crowded and noisy, full of goodbyes, chatter and children crying. They had packed the maximum number of suitcases allowed by overseas regulations, so as the line crawled forward she and her husband had to drag their luggage with them, a few steps at a time. They’d been in line for twenty minutes already. Good thing Rupert was a compulsive early bird... or they’d never make their flight in time.
Rupert Giles gave her an exasperated look. "It’ll be more like a ‘working vacation,’ Buffy." He warned, trying to keep her from being too hopeful about what the retreat would be like for them. He very much doubted that it would be a ‘picnic’... very few things that had to do with the Council of Watchers were.
"Oh, it’ll be a piece of cake, babe! We show some moves, do a little mind reading, they applaud wildly, and we disappear into the woods for smoochies. Easy enough!" She knew this was wild exaggerating, but the look on his face was worth it... he was so cute when she baited him, she couldn’t resist.
The image registered in his mind, and he huffed, deliberately controlling his reaction to her words. ‘No, I won’t give you the satisfaction...’ He swallowed his intended retort, and shifted his carry-on bag onto the other shoulder.
His refusal to join the game made it obvious to Buffy that he was more than just a little worried. "Whassamatter, Rupert? Are you really that nervous? C’mon, it won’t be all that bad. How could it be that bad?"
"It’s just that... you don’t know some of these people the way I do... they’re not going to take kindly to our ‘modifying’ their age-old techniques and beliefs. We may face open hostility, and I want you to be prepared for that." He gazed down into her face, his expression softening. "And, of course, I would take great exception to any of them saying hurtful things to you, or belittling you in any way."
She smiled up at him, her expression determined. "Don’t you worry ‘bout me, babe. Under this Ivory soap skin I’ve got a stainless steel hide. I don’t really care what they think, or say. I know what we have is for real, and we don’t have to convince them. Besides, they asked *us*, remember?" She bounced up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. "And I would take ‘great exception’ to anybody making snarky remarks about my main squeeze."
"Your *only* 'squeeze', I trust!" A tiny smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.
"This week, yeah." She wrinkled her nose at his smiling face. She loved to tease him, and loved it even more when he teased back. "‘Course, if Mel Gibson came along, I’d have to think about it for a minute."
"Don’t tell me... it’s the accent."
"And the eyes, and the hair, and the bod... and -"
He stopped her with a thorough kiss. He watched in satisfaction as her expression went soft and dreamy. "You were saying...?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, I was saying... how easy it is to get you to kiss me in public."
He snorted, then laughed, realizing he’d been hoodwinked. ‘I give up... you win.’ He thought, and she patted his chest happily.
"I always win. Remember that!"
"We’re here... Buffy, wake up, love." He nudged his sleeping companion as the cab pulled into a narrow drive. It was late afternoon in the Cotswolds, the air cool and still. Buffy had dozed off immediately upon leaving the airport, snuggle comfortably against his side, wrapped in his overcoat. He often envied her ability to fall asleep anywhere, and awaken refreshed and bubbly.
True to form, she straightened immediately and craned her neck to see where they were. Her eyes brightened as she saw neat, well-kept cabins nestled into the surrounding countryside. It looked like summer camp... for the rich and famous. Each walkway was paved with brilliant white stone slabs set into moss-covered paths. But however neat it was, there seemed to be something missing... suddenly it dawned on her... the missing something was color.
The whole place was in monochrome... the cabins were light gray weathered wood with shingled roofs, the doors were painted white, the curtains were white... she made a face, shaking her head in dismay. "It looks like Sears had a White Sale, and they took it seriously! Martha Stewart, where are you when we need you? Everything’s so plain! Even the moss is gray! Some one here has serious color fear. Is that a psychological statement, or what?" The driver, a local man by his own admission, snickered loudly, agreeing with her assessment.
"They’re a drab lot, all right, miss. But you’ll bring the color into their cheeks, one way or ‘tother, I’ll wager!" He finally rolled to a stop beside a large central building, and moved to gather their luggage. He scowled and shook his head vehemently when Buffy tried to help him. "None of that, now. Th’ day I can’t manage a light load as this, I’ll hang up me cap and go home."
Giles stretched as he walked towards the main hall, hoping to find a note telling them where to stay. The place looked deserted. He saw no signs of recent occupancy other than the neatly trimmed bushes around the buildings. He started up the steps, intending to knock on the white-washed double doors in front of him.
As he reached for the door with his knuckles ready, it opened, startling him. But that was nothing compared to the surprise he felt when he recognized the man who stood in the doorway. "Oh, dear Lord!" He froze, disbelieving.
Buffy immediately appeared at his side, feeling his shock all the way to her toes. She took his hand in a curiously protective gesture, and stared at the source of her husband’s agitation.
The man was slightly shorter than Rupert, older and stockier built, but there was something about his face that seemed familiar. She studied him for a moment before realizing the family resemblance... Rupert’s father? Her eyes grew wide as Rupert replied non-verbally in the affirmative. The Bond sizzled with his conflicting emotions... anger, love, fear, respect, disillusionment, and hope. She looked up into his face, wonder and confusion plain on her own.
The man submitted to the close scrutiny with a patient air. Finally, he shifted to one side to admit them to the building, and spoke. His voice was brittle and tired, a shadow of Rupert’s velvet tones. It sounded as if it were rarely used. "Come in, son. Welcome to Watchers’ Hall. Hello, Buffy. Welcome." He stepped outside to give instructions to the cabbie, then came inside and closed the door softly. Gesturing to a lodge-style seating area in the lobby, he wordlessly invited them to sit down.
Giles sat across from his father, a man he hadn’t seen in twenty-five years. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. For most of those twenty-five years, he had assumed his father was dead. Rumors had surfaced, of course. But he had ignored them. Then two years ago, a close friend had called to confirm the rumors. Giles had considered coming home to see what, if anything, was left of the man he once knew. But, at the last minute, there was a crisis in Sunnydale, and of course he had to stay. Shortly after that, his relationship with Buffy was turned on its ear by the onset of the Bond. Again, he had chosen again to stay. Now, the choice was taken from him, and his father sat before him, alive, and seemingly whole. Or, was he?
Cedrick Giles shifted in his comfortable chair, and smiled a faint ghost of a smile. "You’re thinking how impossible it is that I’m alive, and then how guilty you feel for not coming home straight away to verify it once you heard I was."
Rupert could do nothing but nod. Buffy was shocked again... could his father read his mind? Rupert smiled at her reassuringly, and placed a hand over hers. "No, he can’t read my mind, love. But he knows the workings of my mind as well as anyone on earth can... except for you."
She looked at the older man suspiciously. If he knew Rupert so well, why didn’t he try to contact his son, instead of waiting around? She started to ask him, but was held back by an uneasy feeling. Her eyes immediately went back to her husband, and she silently gave him permission to speak on her behalf. She wasn’t sure just how to address this new person in her life. She didn’t trust him, but he was Rupert’s father...
"She doesn’t trust you, you know."
"I’m not surprised." The older man smiled reassuringly at Buffy.
"She wants to know why you didn’t contact me."
"I wasn’t allowed to."
"Why not?" She finally spoke directly to her father-in-law. He smiled more openly at her.
"I was beginning to wonder if you could speak at all, dear girl. The reason is simple... the Council were quite sure I was insane."
"So, this nutty bunch thinks *you're* crazy? Well, that goes a long way towards making me feel better, ‘cause they think we're crazy, too!"
Rupert laughed, and she was instantly bathed in a mixture of affection and approval. He loved her bold willingness to face this new twist in the road. She smiled up at him, adoring him with her eyes. Her love for him was obvious.
Mr. Giles smiled, the expression warming his face briefly. "I wouldn’t have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. You *do* share the Bond with her, don’t you? I almost believed old Collins when he said you were being led around by the... well, I won’t quote him exactly." He laughed, and Buffy heard the echoes of Mr. Giles’ voice again. It frightened her for some reason... she didn’t want to share thoughts with anyone else in the world except Rupert, but Mr. Giles’ voice reverberated in her head each time he spoke. It was like... hearing the words and feeling them at the same time, slightly out of sync. Her fear caused Rupert to move closer to her. He slid a protective arm around her, and projected comfort and love to her.
"Something about me disturbs you, Slayer." the older man was sharply perceptive.
"I... hear you, in my head... when you speak... like an overlapping soundtrack. It’s wiggy."
"I thought it would be something like that. I’m sure that’s why they... invited me here."
Buffy thought that was beyond strange. "Why would the Council wanna know if I can read your mind? Why would they care? You’re not a Watcher... are you? Rupert, is he?"
"He was, at one time. And, he is my father. It’s possible there is a family... resonance... you are picking up on."
"Freaky-deaky. I’m not loving this, babe, I can tell you that right now."
Rupert tended to agree. He stood, pulling Buffy to her feet. He had a sudden need to get her away from his father and the disturbing pull of the Bond between them. "Father, we can continue this discussion at another time, I trust. My wife and I are tired from our journey, and we’d like to go to our cabin for a while. Will you show us the way?" He held out a hand towards the front door, and Buffy eased around him, keeping as much distance between herself and Mr. Giles as she could.
"Of course, son. This way. There will be dinner in the dining hall tonight for the ones who’ve come early. I believe it begins at seven. Other than that, you shouldn’t be disturbed until tomorrow. Breakfast is at eight. Dress for hiking." Without another word, he led them out the door.
The cabin was small, but functional. One bedroom, one bath, a sitting room-dining room-kitchen combination, and a small back porch that led out into the woods. Giles snorted in disgust when he spied the two single beds,but declined to comment. Perhaps there weren’t any married Watchers who brought their spouses to the Retreat each year. Or, perhaps there were, and they were just all roaringly old-fashioned.
Buffy laughed at his thought, getting a strange look from Mr. Giles. She ignored him, focusing on her husband. "It gets more like summer camp all the time, Rupert. At least we have an indoor shower!"
"And hot water. For years, we didn’t even have that luxury." The older man smiled sadly, as if the memory was painful. He turned and started for the door. "If you need anything, pick up the phone. You don’t have to dial. It goes directly to the main switchboard. Someone will be there round the clock during Retreat." With his hand on the doorknob, he paused, and gazed at the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he shrugged, and murmured, "Until tomorrow..." He stepped through the door, closing it firmly behind him. They heard him step across the wooden porch, and saw him through the window as he trudged back down the path toward the main hall.
Buffy left Giles to carry their bags into the bedroom, and busied herself with exploring, finding silverware in a drawer, bottled water in the tiny refrigerator, and a few classy-looking bottles of some kind of liquor under the sink. She dragged them out, frowning. "What is this? Grand Mariner? Is that a ship?"
"Gran Mahr-in-yay." He corrected gently. "And Amaretto, as well. Someone has a well-stocked bar hidden away."
"This one is scotch. And gin. Wow, look at all this... Grenadine, Kahlua, ‘name your flavor.’ Are all non-active Watchers drunks?"
"Not that I am aware." Giles drank nothing stronger than wine since the experience with Ethan and Egyhon. He was too conscious of the consequences of losing control. He set the bottles on the counter and counted them. Twelve different items, all top-of-the-line brands, and nearly full. He tried to remember his life before Buffy and the Bond... had he really been that much of a sot? Or was this a subtle attempt to undermine his thinking processes while he was here? To get him to drop his guard? Warning bells began to go off in his head.
"Rupert, we can deal. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna get you drunk and take advantage of you... well, I’m not gonna get you drunk anyway." She slid a finger teasingly along the buttons of his shirt.
The prospect of being taken advantage of caused him to cheer up considerably. She laughed at his change of demeanor, grabbed his shirt front for leverage, and kissed him sweetly. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and deepening the kiss, his lips insistent, his tongue questing into her open mouth. Heat enveloped them almost immediately, and she had to break away to keep them from falling against the kitchen sink.
"Unpack, now, or bedroom, now?" She said, breathlessly, running her hands down his chest.
"Bedroom." He swung her up in his arms, trying to think of the best way to tie two twin beds together. When he got to the first bed, he solved his dilemma by reaching down with one hand and pulling the bedclothes off into the floor. She giggled as he gently placed her on the pile of sheets and blankets, then moaned approvingly as he joined her and began their foreplay in earnest. Thoughts of drunken Watchers and mysterious fathers fled from their minds as they lost themselves in each other.
*-*-*-*
Dinner was quite good, but their companions were far from exciting. There were three others in the dining hall besides the cook, and none of them spoke during the meal. Mr. Giles was absent, and Buffy caught Rupert’s flicker of worry, but he shrugged it off when she tried to reassure him. Good thing she had Rupert to communicate with. Being able to read his mind was a plus in this drab atmosphere. They carried on a lively non-verbal conversation as they were being served. Buffy looked around at the quiet room, and was reminded of a TV commercial she had seen... a bunch of monks in brown robes eating silently.
He smiled at her, seeing the pictures in her head, and wondered, ‘What on earth were they advertising with monks?’
She stifled a laugh. ‘They were all under a vow of silence, but, see, they were eating beans and broccoli an’ stuff. They were advertising some gas pill.’
His shoulders shook as he laughed silently. ‘Oh, that is too silly, even for television.’
She shrugged, grinning at him. ‘No, really! Sad, but true.’
‘American Television. Second in silliness only to British Television.’
She looked at him, surprised. ‘Is British Television silly? I’d love to see that.’
‘It can be... I gather you’ve never seen Monty Python or Benny Hill... or the evening news. You can judge for yourself, when we finally get back to civilization.’
‘Okay, I’ll remind you of that before we leave. I don’t think we even turned on a TV while we were here in January.’
‘Well, no, but then we had other things on our mind.’ A decidedly suggestive smile came to his face.
Buffy giggled, noticing the other Watchers’ furtive glances at them. She felt sure they had all been briefed on the Giles’ visit, and were curious as to the nature of the Bond between them. Buffy smiled cheekily at one of the men, watching him drop his eyes as he realized he’d been caught spying. ‘They act like we’ve got some kind of cooties. I don’t like it.’
‘Neither do I, but as you say, we can deal. I suspect tomorrow morning we’ll find out just what is expected of us. I hope the Director is here, or at the very least, the Chairman. Either one can keep the others in line.’
He was silent for a moment, then sent a confused message to her. ‘Cooties???’
She had to laugh out loud at him. She ignored the sharp looks from the others, and focused her attention on her husband. ‘I’ll explain it to you later, when we’re not in hostile territory.’
A sudden sense of sadness from deep inside Giles’ being enveloped her. ‘It is a tragedy that the presence of my fellow Watchers constitutes a hostile situation. However, I have a feeling that you are exactly correct. What a terrible thing.’ He looked down, unable to keep his face from showing his anguish.
She put a comforting hand on his, and their connection hummed between them. ‘They’d just better not mess with us, Rupert. I would be cranky, and you know how I get when I’m cranky.’
‘Are you finished eating?’
‘Absolutely. The lack of noise is getting on my nerves.’
‘Then let’s "blow this joint, sweetheart," and get some sleep.’
She laughed delightedly, and said, "Great Bogart!" As she skipped out the door, he smiled with satisfaction at the four incredulous faces in the room.
He couldn’t resist a parting shot. "Gives one something to think about, doesn’t it?" He left them wondering what in the world a ‘Great Bogart’ was.
Buffy awoke to the sound of a bugle call, and groaned. They were taking this "Boot Camp" concept waaaaay to far. She rolled over, forgetting she was on a flimsy twin bed, and only her Slayer’s sense of balance kept her from thudding to the floor. She landed on her feet in a crouch. The bed beside hers was empty, neatly tucked in and tight enough to bounce a quarter on. She almost giggled... Rupert reverted quickly to form!
She heard water running in the bathroom, and smiled. He let her sleep as long as he could... how thoughtful. He knew full well how badly she hated early mornings. Such thoughtfulness deserved a reward. She smiled and closed her eyes, concentrating. For several seconds, she heard nothing. Then, the smile turned into a full fledged grin as she heard Rupert’s strangled exclamation, followed by a low moan. He mumbled something unintelligible, and finally pieced together a coherent thought to send to her in return.
‘Good Lord, Buffy, warn me before you do that! I was shaving, and nearly cut my own throat!’ She laughed out loud, sending him soothing, wordless comfort by way of apology. He came out of the bathroom, a sheepish grin on his face, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. "Darling, please..." He shivered as she zapped him with more erotic emotion. He felt decidedly light-headed, and wobbled slightly as he approached her, an intensely hot and bothered look on his face. "Don’t torture me like this..." He buried his head in her shoulder and lowered her back onto the narrow bed. She nuzzled his neck as he murmured, "Don’t... tease... ahhh... mmmmff..." then they were kissing passionately.
‘Oh, I’m not teasing, babe. I’m *totally* serious.’ Communicating through the Bond was highly convenient when you were busy kissing each other senseless.
‘Buffy...’ He tried valiantly, but vainly, to rein in his passion. ‘...we are going to be late for breakfast.’
‘So our eggs will be cold. Big deal.’
He knew he was too far gone to stop, so he gave in as his body responded to the siren call of his Slayer. ‘It’s likely there will be no eggs at all, if we are very late.’
‘So we’ll make it a quickie.’
‘With you, my dearest, there is no such thing.’
Almost an hour later, they practically floated into the mess hall, oblivious to the stares of the forty-some-odd people who were already finished eating. Giles was so relaxed and happy that he almost glowed. Their link was fully open, humming with an almost audible power. Buffy smirked in satisfaction at the confusion on the faces around her. Of course, they didn’t understand. They all looked like they hadn’t had sex in twenty years. Well, that was *their* problem. She heard a snicker behind her and felt his amusement at her inner monologue.
As she approached the serving table, she examined the remaining breakfast with some trepidation... it didn’t look like anything she had ever seen before. It was almost gray, mimicking the monochrome tones of the rest of the camp. She shrugged, and after getting reassurances from Giles that it wouldn’t kill her, she slapped a large glob on her plate. He grinned at her scowl, and offered her the last roll on the table. She took it gratefully, and spread a few pats of butter on it, noting how hard it was. They sat down in what looked to be the only two empty places in the building.
She took a tentative bite, and grimaced. ‘Rupert, my love, you haven’t brought me here to starve me to death, have you? I know I’ve gained a few pounds in the last few months, but it’s all muscle, I swear!’
He snickered at her, then scooted the condiments towards her. ‘Try salt and pepper.’ She complied, eyeing him doubtfully. Another bite confirmed her suspicions; it didn’t help. ‘It won’t hurt you, I promise. They served it in Training Camp. We young ones always called it ‘gruel’ after the stuff they served the orphans in the story ‘Oliver.’ It is nourishing... hopefully.’
She watched him eat, disbelieving. He was in such a good mood, he was actually smiling as he shoveled down the disgusting concoction. He looked up at her, locking his eyes with hers, and smiled even wider as he felt a surge of love well up inside him. She felt herself smiling with him, and suddenly giggled despite her best intentions to remain silent. They finished their dubious breakfast quickly, and took their dishes to the kitchen.
She stopped him just inside the kitchen door, and said, "What’s next?"
He listened as a distant bugle call sounded. "We muster, I believe."
Buffy rolled her eyes in disgust. "Can this get any more like F-Troop? *Muster*? This bunch of wanna-bes and never-beens?"
"Buffy..." He warned, dropping his voice and laying a quieting finger against her lips. She responded by nipping it, and he started in surprise. "*Buffy! Stop that*!" He whispered fiercely, grinning. He spun her around by the shoulders and marched her out the nearest door.
Barely a stone’s throw from the dining hall there was a flat clearing that stretched for close to a mile into the valley. It was well kept, but featureless, much like the buildings at the main entrance. Buffy took her husband’s arm, unconcerned about appearances, and together they strode into the clearing. Giles searched the small group for the Chairman. The giant red-headed man was at least four inches taller than anyone in the crowd, and was fairly easy to spot. Rupert sighed in relief... at least, there would be some semblance of order this summer.
Rupert led Buffy to a spot in the clearing, and stopped. He indicated that she should stay put by putting his hands on her shoulders, and then stepped behind her, not breaking the contact. He somehow felt the need to touch her, not in sexual desire, for he was still basking in the afterglow of their earlier activities. He felt as if there would be tests put in their way the entire time they were here, and keeping the Bond open and active was the best defense they had.
The Chairman moved to the front of the rapidly forming columns of people, and stood, hands behind his back. The instant the rows were complete, and everyone was still, he barked an order. "Columns Odd, Evade! Columns Even, Search! Thirty Minutes! *Begin*!" The clearing emptied immediately, Watchers scattering in all directions.
Rupert tugged Buffy into the nearest clump of trees, explaining non-verbally as they ran. ‘Combination of reconnoiter and tactical evasion techniques... here, climb quickly.’ He boosted her into a sturdy-looking oak tree, and ran off at an angle, disappearing like smoke. She still heard his steady voice in her mind. ‘Best to find a good spot, and freeze. You’re small... hard to see amongst all the leaves.’ She agreed with him as she climbed, looking up for a good vantage point that offered concealment as well, his voice continuing in her head. ‘I’m told the Retreat always begins with this maneuver... gets the blood pumping, so to speak, and reminds us of how difficult it is to track something that doesn’t want to be tracked.’
She found a comfortable looking fork about 30 feet off the ground, and straddled a branch, locking her legs around it and leaning back against the trunk. With her neutral colored clothing, she hoped she could blend in against the gray bark. She closed her eyes, and listened. She could hear nothing around her, not even Rupert’s footsteps. ‘Are you hidden?’ She wondered, and was amazed at how fast he replied in the affirmative. ‘Is it just me, or are we really in synch today?’ Again, she felt instant agreement. She relaxed, basking in their strong link.
Slowly, she became attuned to her surroundings, and began to sense the other people tramping through the underbrush around them. ‘Don’t get overconfident, love.’ He warned.
‘Hey, I’m not... I just feel... aware... Relax a minute, just float, and see what I mean.’
He complied, and she felt his surprise. ‘Amazing! It’s like turning on a light in a dark room... I can almost see where everyone is... up to several hundred feet away! I can reach the clearing... *Dear God! The Chairman!*’
She swung down from her perch, and made record time getting to the ground. Evading the pseudo-pursuers with ease, she met Giles at the clearing in less than a minute and they both began to run, homing in on what they were sensing in their minds. She feared that they had arrived too late. The Chairman lay on the ground, gasping, his face gray. The man was curled into a fetal position, and she heard a despairing cry from her husband as they fell to their knees...
"Heart attack, or stroke... " He examined the man quickly, and began to administer CPR as Buffy called frantically to the Watchers hidden in the thicket. Finally, her screams got the attention of two of the game players, and they ran toward the main hall to call for an ambulance.
As she waited, ready to take over if Giles should become tired, she noticed something small and white sticking out of the Chairman’s left thigh. Crouching down, she looked closer. "Rupert. Look." She touched the object carefully with a fingertip.
He broke his concentration long enough to see what she was pointing to. It was a dart. Poisoned! Rage entered his mind, blocking her out until he regained control. ‘Someone has tried to assassinate the Chairman, and may well have succeeded.’ He swore as he continued to force the man’s body to breathe.
*-*-*-*-*
Over an hour later, they stood in the waiting room of the small local hospital, waiting for a word of hope. Buffy had all but given up as she watched the paramedics fight to keep the Chairman alive during the ambulance ride. She heard the touch of despair in their voices as they radioed statistics ahead to the emergency room. Now she leaned against her husband, knowing full well what Chairman’s death would mean.
At last, a white-coated man pushed through the doors and came towards them. His face impassive, he introduced himself as Dr. Simms, and proceeded to grill them as to the nature of the incident. "And you’re sure you didn’t notice any slurred speech up to ten minutes before the man fell?" They both shook their heads. "No redness, no trouble breathing?" Again, they answered wordlessly in the negative. "Strange... with neurotoxins such as this, there should have been some onset symptoms before cardiac arrest set in. Your man is stable for the moment, but in a deep coma. It would be helpful if we could pinpoint the actual time the toxin was injected."
Buffy looked at Giles, eyes wide. ‘But, we do know, don’t we? We both saw it at the same time!’ He agreed silently, then addressed the doctor. "We saw him fall in the clearing. Up until that time, he was standing with his arms folded, directing some... exercises. Apparently he was hit by a small dart. We did not see the attacker. He collapsed shortly thereafter, and we ran to him across the clearing. From impact to the onset of paralysis couldn’t have been much more that a minute."
Buffy added, "And as soon as we got there, Rupert started CPR. Then it took maybe, oh, ten more minutes for the guys to run back to the switchboard and make the call."
"Twenty minutes for the ambulance to arrive, two or three minutes for the paramedics to examine him, and twenty minutes to return here. All told, less than an hour had elapsed from the time he collapsed until you examined him." Giles finished, thinking furiously as he talked, hoping to glean a tidbit of insight from his memory.
The doctor looked thoughtful. "We’ve proceeded with our treatments on the assumption that it was natural... snake or spider venom. They are toxins that act quickly... of course, we cannot be absolutely sure until we’ve isolated it."
Giles shifted uneasily, putting a hand on Buffy’s shoulder and burying the other in his pocket. "Don’t discount any form of toxin at this point, doctor. What you discover may help us prevent a second occurrence."
"Is this a Council matter?" The doctor asked the question almost casually.
Buffy looked surprised, but Giles answered calmly. "Yes."
"Then I will see to it the authorities are not involved... at this point." He nodded to them, and left.
During the ride home, Buffy tried to come to grips with what had happened. First, they were not welcomed with open arms by the Watchers or the Council, and their Bond was not a welcome addition to the Retreat’s curriculum. Second, Rupert’s father was a mystery, and she wondered whose side he was on. He made her terribly uncomfortable, but she didn’t know exactly why. Third, dissension in the ranks was severe enough to cause someone to try to kill one of their own people. Fourth, she couldn’t do anything about it. She couldn’t go around slaying bad people like she did vampires.
Giles pulled her hand into his lap and gazed down at their entwined fingers. Stroking the back of her hand, he comforted her and allowed her to comfort him. There was something about their being close... intimate... that allowed them to gain strength from each other. They were stronger together than apart, he knew that for certain, but they were just beginning to discover just how deep the Bond could be.
Giles spent an hour that evening alone in the switchboard room, with Buffy making sure no one overheard his conversations. He arranged with the cook to have their dinner served in their cabin, and spent the evening discussing plans and strategies with Buffy. She was surprised and relieved to hear that the Council Director was willing to go along with Rupert’s ideas. She vaguely remembered the man as slender, old, and stern... not the type you’d expect would side with radical idealists. They went over their agenda several times, to be sure they were in perfect sync. There would be little margin for error.
After their meal, they decided to go for a stroll in the nearby woods. There was a huge full moon, and the air was brisk and still. They held hands as they walked, conversation dwindling until there was complete silence between them. Content with his presence, Buffy relaxed and listened to the night, hearing the tiny sounds that indicated that there were living things all around them.
Buffy tried to expand her awareness like she had during the maneuver that morning. Giles did the same, and suddenly the night was no longer quiet. They froze, hearing voices off to their right, and concentrated on the sounds, trying to hear what was being said. After a moment, they were able to tune their mental sensors in, and could hear two men talking. They had to be at least fifty yards away, yet their voices were low but clear in the still air.
"How can you be certain? The Chairman survived! You guaranteed the poison would finish him quickly! And he’s still alive!" The first voice sounded young, and terrified.
"Don’t be a fool. His rescue was a fluke. A few minutes more, and there would have been no possible way of saving him. We need to keep the Watcher and the Slayer under close observation. There’s no telling what this Bond sorcery has enabled them to do. And, stay away from them yourself, just in case their mind-reading abilities are greater than we were told. The old guard has been hiding things from us for years... we have to find out what’s going on, and stop it, before we’re all out of a job."
"But, but, don’t you think... what if Giles is right? What if we’re interfering with the Plan, somehow? What if God strikes us dead..."
"Shut up, you young fool! You’ve been listening to too many old Watchers’ tales. God’s not interested in what we’re doing, if he exists at all. He set all this in motion, and then left us to our own devices. Listen carefully, for I will not repeat this: We must take these people out of the picture, any way we can. Do you understand? They threaten our very existence. Our future. We have to stop it, now. Go do as you’ve been instructed. Report to me tomorrow night. And be sure you’re not seen or followed. Go."
The rustling of leaves and branches indicated that two figures were leaving in opposite directions. Buffy wanted badly to follow, but Giles held her back. ‘No, love, we cannot tip our hand just yet. We will recognize those voices when we hear them again. And, we need to expose the entire group, not just two of them.’
She acknowledged his wisdom, albeit reluctantly, and they began to walk back to their cabin. As they approached, they heard voices again, but this time one of them was familiar. "They’re not here, Director. Perhaps they went for a walk." Buffy and Giles rounded the corner of their cabin in time to see his father and a much older man coming down from the front porch.
"Here, Father," Giles called softly, not wanting to alert any potential enemies of their location. The two men returned to the porch, Giles unlocked the door, and they all went inside. Giles shook hands with the older man, and introduced him to Buffy. The Director’s eyes blazed with a fierce intelligence that seemed out of place with his frail body. She was impressed in spite of her distrust of the Council... this was the true leader of the Watchers.
Buffy and Giles sat down on the small couch, with the Director taking an armchair. Mr. Giles continued to pace, examining the room from different angles as though he had never been there before. Giles watched in surprise as his father reached into his coat pocket and swept the room with some kind of device. It blinked and hummed, but made no other noise, and finally he stopped, satisfied. "No bugs, Director." Mr. Giles pocketed the small device, and sat down on the hearth.
Giles smiled warmly at his last confirmed ally in the camp. "Director, it’s good to see you again, although the circumstances could be better."
"Indeed they could. But you have managed to survive them."
Buffy made a face. "Nothing’s been aimed at *us* so far, Mister Director. It makes me nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop."
They all looked expectantly at the Director. Seeming a bit reluctant, the man cleared his throat, and began. "There is a splinter group arising within the ranks that is attempting a hostile takeover of the Council. They wish a return to the ‘old ways’... a ludicrous ideal, since it is the oldest ways they are rejecting out of hand... Whether or not your visit in January was the trigger that finally set things in motion is unimportant at this point. I believe this has been building for quite some time. You’ve arrived in the middle of a civil war, children."
Before Buffy could take affront at being called a child, she realized that the Director was addressing Giles as well. She looked more closely at the Director, trying to determine his age. White hair, pale blue eyes and wrinkled hands seemed to indicate he was around seventy or so, but his demeanor suggested he might be younger. She sent her question to Giles, and his answer surprised her. ‘That man is ninety-seven? You’ve gotta be joking! ’
Her surprise registered on her face, and the Director raised an eyebrow in Giles’ direction. He reddened slightly. "Sorry, Director, Buffy was asking me your age via the Bond. She seemed rather amazed at my answer." He looked at her seriously. "We must speak our minds in front of the Director, Buffy. To all intents and purposes, he IS the Council at this moment. He must be able to trust us, or all will be lost."
She nodded. "Okay. But I have to ask... why are you going along with Rupert’s plan, if you’ve known about this for a while? Why haven’t you done something yourself before now?"
The Director smiled, acknowledging her point. "Because up until this time there had been no overt action against us. We simply did not know what we were dealing with."
"And now you do." She shivered as he nodded sadly.
"Yes, and now we do. So, are you going to be able to do this, Rupert? You will become an immediate target as soon as word is given."
Buffy looked frightened, but calmed as her husband took her hand and nodded his affirmation. The Director rose carefully to his feet, signaling the end of the meeting. Giles and Buffy stood with him, and the three of them silently contemplated the magnitude of their task. Before turning towards the door, the Director stopped and looked Giles straight in the eyes. Giles met his gaze unflinchingly. The Director nodded, seeing the determination there. "Very well. It is done. Tomorrow you will be sworn in as the new Chairman. May God help you."
Mr. Giles added, "May God help us all." He placed a small amber bottle on the mantle before he followed the Director into the night.
Buffy noticed the bottle immediately, and went over to examine it. The label was in a foreign language. She frowned. "What is this stuff, Rupert?"
Giles reached over and took the bottle from her gently. He looked at the label, smiling slightly, then sighed.
Impatiently, she asked again, "What is it?" His tight concentration on the bottle kept her from hearing his thoughts clearly.
"Protection, dearest." He carried the bottle into the bedroom, and slipped it into the pocket of one of the suit coats hanging in their closet. He turned, seeing her following closely behind him, a worried, angry look on her face. He moved to gather her into his arms, both offering and seeking comfort and reassurance. "Please, let’s not talk about these things any further tonight. I just want to leave the rest of the world outside, and hold you close until I fall asleep in your arms. May I do that?"
The sweet longing in his request caused her eyes to water with unshed tears. She put her questions on hold, and hugged him, sniffing a little. "Okay, but how are we gonna fit on one of those stupid twin beds?"
He laughed, always delighted with her practical nature. He turned his attention to the furniture in question, and studied the room. He crossed the room and slid both beds against the corner, right up against the two walls. He mutely asked for her help, and they dragged the heavy armoire against the head of the outer bed. Sandwiched between the wall and the solid wooden piece, the two small beds became one medium-sized one. He chuckled at her doubtful expression. "Do you have a better idea?" He asked with a smirk.
"No. We’ll give it a try, but I doubt this trick will hold up if we get...energetic."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Then we will have to be more... careful, won’t we?"
She grinned, and raised her arms to him, encircling his neck invitingly. "That’s us... full of carefulness."
* * * * *
The morning bugle sounded, eliciting a groan from the makeshift arrangement in the corner. Giles gradually became aware of a serious twinge in his back. The blasted beds were no more comfortable together than they were apart. Buffy was in her favorite position, draped over him like a blanket. He smiled and kissed her tousled head, sighing in contentment, if not in comfort. She murmured something against his throat and snuggled against him, steadfastly avoiding wakefulness.
He finally decided to stir himself. Ignoring the ache in his back, he slid his wife off to one side, scooted to the end of the bed, and stood. He stretched his back carefully, trying to work the kinks out of his muscles. Buffy opened one eye and watched him as he winced and bit his lip to keep from making a sound. The attempt was useless... she felt his discomfort almost immediately after he did. ‘Uh oh,’ She thought, ‘Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed...’ He chuckled at her, then caught his breath in pain as he attempted to bend over for his robe. It was all she needed to make up her mind. She rolled onto the other bed lazily, and patted the spot beside her.
"You need a massage, Mr. Chairman-to-be, sir. Just plop right down here and let Mrs. Chairman attend to you." He complied without a word, laying face down on the small bed, his feet hanging off the edge. She straddled his hips and began working the knots out of his shoulders and back, feeling the tension ease away, feeling the pain subside and disappear. Just as he dozed off, she finished and started kissing his neck and face. "Don’t go back to sleep, gorgeous. You’ve got a big day ahead."
He mumbled a protest into the pillow. ‘I’m not sleeping... merely resting my eyes.’
She hooted in merriment at the old cliché, and bounced on the bed, causing it to creak ominously under them. "Come on, get up before we break this crummy bed in two... they’d probably dock your pay for it."
At exactly one minute before ten o’clock, Buffy stood outside the main hall looking at the nervous man beside her. Outwardly, he was the picture of calm in his gray tweed, his head lifted slightly as he waited for the sound of the gavel inside that would precede his entrance. Inside, his emotions were seething. Only his Bonded Slayer would ever know how frightened he was.
The sharp sound of wood against wood signaled him to move towards the door. Just before entering the main hall, Giles paused, feeling momentarily overwhelmed. He was going to be the second most powerful man in the Watcher’s Council in just a few minutes... if he lived.
Buffy took his hand, squeezing it gently, giving her support and love in the simple gesture. He squared his shoulders manfully. "Right. Here we go, then. Chin up!"
She smiled and raised her head haughtily, an amused expression on her face. They entered the hall as one.
Later, that night...
"The ceremony... went well... I think."
"I thought so, too."
"No opposing votes... the conspirators seem content to remain underground."
"You’re the one the Director presented. Maybe they’re still afraid of him."
"Perhaps. All in all, I’d deem it a... successful ascension, wouldn’t you?"
She giggled into his chest. "You "ascended" successfully twice so far today!"
He groaned at her terrible double-entendre. "Well, I’m... descending... rapidly now, I’m afraid." He rolled onto his side and gathered her into his arms, snuggling close. "It is a bit worrisome, actually... the lack of overt opposition, I mean, not my... well, the other..."
She laughed out loud at him. After being married for over six months, he still blushed at intimate talk. Most of the time he let the Bond communicate his thoughts, and dispensed with words entirely. "You are totally adorable, Rupert. Too cute..." She kissed him, her thoughts full of happiness.
‘There’s no such thing as ‘too cute’, remember, love?’ His mouth was too busy to bother with talking.
Buffy broke the kiss and concentrated seriously for a moment. "Hey."
"Wh-what?" He was still slightly out of breath.
"Do you think the Bond is protecting us? We’ve been majorly in tune since we’ve been here, and the Bond seems to get stronger all the time. I mean, the Chairman was only here a few hours before they got him. And they haven’t laid a finger on us... so far."
He pondered the question, and clicked almost perceptibly into Watcher mode. "The Messenger did say it was to help us, to assist us in our battle against Darkness. Perhaps I can do some research in the archives at the London headquarters before we leave." He tilted his head as a new thought occurred to him. "Strangely enough, we seem to be most... in tune... after we’ve been... well, ah, intimate."
"And we’ve been intimate a lot the last few days, haven’t we? I think it’s stronger ‘cause of that... mmmm, I *love* the idea of fighting Darkness with great sex." She nuzzled his shoulder and neck gently.
He reddened again in spite of himself. She was so straightforward about everything. "It may not be the... sex alone, dearest, although being with you is always breathtakingly wonderful..." Her eyes sparkled at the sincere compliment. "Marriage is considered a joining of two into one... It is a spiritual joining, first and foremost, that we reinforce every time we make love. Together, we are stronger than the sum of our individual strengths."
She rested her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. "Nice explanation, but mine was more fun."
He chuckled. "I have to agree."
She pushed away enough to look at his face. "So, you’re the Chairman now. Was that all the ceremony there was? Just a short statement, a kind of swearing in... in some weird language..."
"Latin, darling. The commission was in Latin."
"Whatever, I didn’t get a word of it. And then, it was business as usual. Except that you gave the instructions for the exercises, this time."
"Yes, it’s part of the job. I also have to attend a meeting, of sorts, in the morning, early. Myself, the Director, and a few staff members have to decide what to do for the rest of the retreat. The Chairman didn’t leave a written agenda. Perhaps I’ll hear something new then."
"Oh, one more thing, you said something at the end of the last exercise, was it Latin, too?"
"No, it was Greek, taken from a speech given at one of the early Olympic games. A concession to the frailty of man. It is given when the winning teams are announced."
"So they won’t get all big-headed?"
He laughed, and she felt the rumbling sound in his chest. She closed her eyes and sighed happily. She loved to hear him laugh. After a moment, he answered, "Exactly. You have a remarkable way of reducing complex issues into a concise colloquial statement."
"That’s why you keep me around. I’m your interpreter."
He tightened his arms around her. "That’s not the only reason I keep you around..."
*-*-*-*-*
The next two days passed without overt problems. They watched for small glances, gestures, the expressions on the faces of certain Watchers, trying to create a list of possible conspirators in their minds. Not that every disgruntled Watcher was an enemy, but they had to be quite careful. They listened constantly to the babble of voices, hoping to identify the two men they had overheard plotting their deaths in such cold and heartless terms, but with no success. There was no repeat of the nocturnal meeting in the woods. The conspirators seemed to be keeping their distance during normal activities. Buffy and Giles kept at it, trying to use their newly discovered abilities to reach out and span the camp. But the remarkable mental sensors would only work when they were together and not distracted, and the busy schedule of the Retreat made that difficult.
They stayed as close as was acceptable during the working part of the day, keeping physical contact when possible, remaining as relaxed as they could under the circumstances. As they lived in the constant awareness of the Bond, Buffy began to wonder if they could ever go back to the on-again, off-again sharing they had before coming to this place. The effect of keeping their link open and active was intoxicating... and the sex was incredible. They couldn’t get enough of each other. She was certainly glad they were in tip-top shape, or they’d have never survived past the first few days!
During exercises the third day, as Giles was evaluating hand-to-hand combat techniques at the far end of the training field, Buffy felt a strange tugging at the edges of her consciousness. She shook her head to clear it, but the feeling persisted. Cautiously, she opened her mind to it, and to her shock, she heard the odd, overlapping effect of her father-in-law’s thoughts. She took a step back and turned slightly away from the others.
‘This is really weirding me out, Mr. Giles. What do you want?’ She frowned, concentrating. Her husband missed her mental presence immediately, and turned to her with a puzzled look. She held up a hand, indicating that he should wait. The feeling of an unfamiliar mind touching hers made her feel clammy and a bit sick. She pushed her revulsion aside and listened.
The older man’s thoughts carried worry and fear enough for them both. ‘Buffy, I’m sorry, I know this is painful. I’m at the switchboard. The lines have been cut. I’m afraid it’s beginning. Be careful.’ The connection then faded and was gone, leaving her shuddering at the bizarre sensation.
Giles was becoming increasingly disturbed by her behavior. After composing herself, she looked at him with widened eyes and took his hand, reestablishing their Bond. The sense of relief was instantaneous, and she quickly relayed his father’s message to him.
Giles was stunned. ‘You heard him? From this distance? Was it that unpleasant?’
‘Yes, yes and yes. It was kinda... fuzzy, but I understood him just fine. We gotta watch out.’
‘Good advice.’ He turned back to the competitors as if nothing had happened, his face calm and unconcerned. He took a deep breath, and she felt him expand their net of awareness until it nearly encompassed the entire camp. It was eerie, but effective. She noted the positions of the men involved in the exercises, counting them off with him. There were forty-three people at the camp. Twenty-nine, including Buffy and Giles, were in various places in the clearing, either sparring or watching. Two people were in the nearby Mess Hall, cleaning and cooking. One man was at the switchboard, presumably unaware of its condition. Giles, Senior was patrolling the areas between the cabins. The Director was in his room. That left nine Watchers unaccounted for. She searched the area they could scan... nothing.
Nine men had gone missing. They were either in the woods or underground. Buffy had never tried to reach into the earth with her mind before, but she was able to do so with little effort. In just a few minutes, they determined that the tunnels that criss-crossed beneath the camp were empty. That left the woods, and there were several hundred acres of them.
‘Don’t concentrate on finding the men themselves, Buffy.’ Giles’ thoughts pierced the confusion in her head. ‘Keep the Bond open... we’ll see them more easily when they move.’
‘Don’t you think someone should be with the Director? He’s a target, too, isn’t he?’
‘He may or may not be, but if we surround him with guards, it might tip our hand.’ Giles continued to issue correction and encouragement to the teams that were sparring around them, moving easily among them as if he hadn’t a care in the world. She strolled with him, trying to keep her expression neutral as she listened to him. ‘At any rate, Father is nearby. Don’t worry about the Director, Buffy. He’s a cagey one. They’ll have their hands full if they decide to fool with him.’
Suddenly, one of the men cried out in alarm. Giles rushed towards him as he collapsed, with Buffy close behind. She recalled briefly that the man’s name was James something or other. The scene was all too familiar: the man was gasping for breath, curled almost double. Instantly, they recognized the symptoms... it was the poison that had nearly killed the Chairman. Sure enough, when they knelt beside the victim, they spotted a small white dart imbedded in his side.
Giles gritted his teeth in anger, and shouted to the stunned group, "*Duck and cover!*" Without question, the entire group hit the ground, the short grass making for little protection. At least they were more difficult to target that way. They couldn’t retreat; they had no idea which direction the dart had come from. More darts flew past them from several directions, missing them and falling harmlessly into the grass. It only was a matter of time before the shooters would adjust their trajectory, and the darts would find their targets.
The anger began to build inside Buffy and Giles both as they realized that the conspirators meant to kill the entire lot of them... without remorse or regret. The impact of losing over half the Watchers in the world would be staggering... how could anyone justify giving Evil a holiday like that? Buffy was fuming, her face livid, and Giles was shaking with rage. This could not be! He raised a silent appeal to Heaven for intervention. In an instant, he knew what he had to do.
Fearlessly, he stood to his feet. Buffy stood with him, letting indignation build between them. Watchers who assisted the Powers of Darkness? It was an affront to everything they should have stood for. Even the method they used was cowardly. Poison darts from secret hiding places... cowards, blackguards, thieves and villains, one and all...
The other Watchers lay frozen with fear and amazement as a perceptible aura surrounded the pair. Their fury at the attack was adding to the fire of the Bond. It gathered around Buffy and Giles like a whirlwind, ruffling their hair and rippling their clothes. Anger washed over them, and in a moment of complete clarity, they saw all nine assassins in their hiding places amongst the trees that skirted the field. They were cloaked in an invisibility spell! The dark magic swirled around them like an oil-slicked sea, black, putrid, and evil.
Rupert Giles was beyond anger. This had to end, NOW! He reached out and clasped Buffy’s hand, their anger expanding like a force field. From the trees, the leader of the evil Watchers signaled, and nine tiny poison tipped projectiles were released towards the standing pair. Buffy saw them as if in slow motion, watching in horror as death approached the man she loved. "GOD! PLEASE, NO!" The cry came from the depths of her soul.
Giles closed his eyes and shouted in a voice that sounded like thunder. "*ENOUGH!*" He raised one fist towards Heaven, and Heaven answered. The darts stopped, frozen, as if they had been encased in glass. The edges of the Bond crackled with supernatural energy. Clouds swirled above the scene, lightning danced through the air, and thunder rolled through the clearing. Suddenly, Giles lowered his arm, and the darts reversed course, flying unerringly back in the direction from which they were sent. There were shouts of horror and despair as nine darts found their marks, inflicting their poison on the very men who had released them.
As quickly as it had begun, the phenomenon ended, and the atmosphere suddenly stilled around the field. The clouds began to dissipate, allowing stray shafts of sunlight to dot the clearing. The stunned Watchers slowly rose to their feet and surrounded their fallen companion. Giles knelt once again beside the contorted body of the poisoned man, and touched a small amber bottle to his lips. The labored gasping stopped almost instantly, and James began to come to his senses, albeit groggily. Still kneeling, Giles leaned back, his face raised. Looking upward at the rapidly clearing sky, he breathed, "Thank you."
Giles then stood, issuing a single order. "Find them!" The loyal Watchers dispersed immediately into the trees. Nine pain-wracked conspirators soon lay at their Chairman’s feet. Without even being commanded to do so, the standing men formed a ring around the captives on the ground. There would be no escape from justice this time.
Buffy spotted the Director jogging across the field towards them, his easy stride belying his age. Just behind him, like an escort, was Mr. Giles. The circle of people stood unmoving until the two men joined them. Giles and the Director exchanged glances, their faces in perfect agreement. The Director reached into his pocket and pulled out an amber bottle identical to the one Giles had used to save the first Watcher’s life. Together, like medics after a battle, Giles and the Director began bending and administering the antidote to the enemy.
At first, some of the loyal Watchers were astonished. There were murmurs of, "What are you doing?" "Their lives are forfeit!" "They’ve broken the Code!" Slowly, however, a sense of rightness overwhelmed them as they watched men that they had studied and fought beside slowly recover from the effects of the poison. When the Director reached the ninth man on the ground, he paused, looking at Giles for confirmation. The man’s voice was strangled and full of pain as he begged for his life. Giles turned to Buffy, and they both nodded in agreement... it was the voice from the clandestine meeting in the woods... the man behind the plot to assassinate three-quarters of the Watchers at the camp.
The Director knew him well. They had been on opposing sides of the Bond issue since the beginning of the controversy. If the situation was reversed, The Director knew in his heart that this man would watch him die.
Giles motioned for James, now standing unsteadily with Buffy’s help. Putting the antidote in James’ hand, Giles backed away. The decision of whether the ring-leader should live or die now rested solely with one he had struck down. The other men did not interfere... the justice of the moment held them silent.
James looked thoughtfully at his former camp-mate. This man had shared the burden of their fight against Evil for many years. If he could be seduced and led astray, so could they all. He decided to forgive. He knelt and dropped the life-saving liquid into the mouth of his would-be assassin.
Buffy felt like cheering. Elated, she threw her arms around her husband and kissed him soundly, unmindful of the crowd. Instead of blushing, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, his face buried in her hair. As the confederate Watchers were led away, most of the remaining men began to approach Buffy and Giles, apologizing, expressing gratitude and even approval. They all had a brief statement, a handshake, or a pat on the back for their two champions. Buffy and Giles acknowledged them all with a nod and a smile, too overwhelmed to speak.
After leaving Buffy at the cabin, Giles made his way back to the Main Hall. In Watcher society, justice was not delayed. The new Chairman listened gravely to the charges the Director made against the nine murderous Watchers. After over two hours of debate and discussion, he nodded in agreement as the loyal majority decided on a course of punishment. The vote was unanimous.
Sorrowfully, he stood and pronounced their sentence... banishment for the rest of their lives. To a man who had trained his entire life for one purpose, who had loyalty to one creed alone, it was a death sentence. They were the hardest words Giles had ever had to utter, but he performed his duty without flinching. The security team, headed by his father, took the job of escorting the prisoners off the grounds and turning them over to the authorities. There was yet another jury they would have to face. They would, in all likelihood, spend their remaining years separated from society as well as their peers.
The sun was setting when Giles stumbled back towards the cabin, feeling exhausted mentally and physically. The closer he got to Buffy, the better he felt. He could feel the welcoming love emanating from the small building as he approached. In a few minutes, he knew, he would be feeling a bit more like himself again.
He opened the door and was met by a warm embrace. Her comfort washed over him, and his knees almost buckled as he let go of the stiff control he had held all afternoon. She braced him with her Slayer strength as he soaked up her love and solace. Painful memories swirled in his head.
‘It was awful, wasn’t it?’ Her heart went out to him as she helped him to the couch and held him close.
‘It was.’ There was no way he could vocalize what he felt at that moment. He allowed her to absorb and digest his memories and feelings. They sat together, almost motionless, for a long time as the open channel between them hummed with emotion. Finally, Giles stirred with a sigh and looked down at her, speaking softly into her hair. "Sharing burdens always seems to lighten them, somehow."
"Yeah, I read that somewhere. Now that we’ve done the super-Bond sharing thing, how about if I try to distract you in an entirely different way?"
A smile overcame the pain on his face, just for a moment. "You’re certainly welcome to try."
The telephone woke Giles from a sound sleep. It was early, and sunlight was just beginning to creep into the room through the pale curtains at the windows. He looked at his watch, surprised that he hadn’t removed it. He smiled as the reason struck him... he had been too engrossed in his wife’s attempts to take his mind off the events of the day before to remember such mundane details. He wiggled his toes, realizing that he still had his socks on, as well.
The phone jangled again, reminding him of the reason why he was awake in the first place. He scrambled up, dislodging Buffy on the way and getting growled at for his trouble. ‘She would probably sleep through a hurricane, if it came through too early,’ he thought as he climbed off the edge of the bed. The phone was across the room, but he managed to pick it up on the third ring.
"He-hello?"
"Rupert? Sorry about the time, son."
"Yes, Father, what is it?"
"I thought, well, I thought we might get together this morning and talk. About why I am here, and where I’ve been for the past twenty or so years."
"Father, it isn’t necessary... you don’t have anything to prove to me..."
"I know, but we need to talk, regardless, all three of us. It’s, ah, it’s about the Bond."
Giles was surprised at that. The Bond was the last topic of conversation he expected to share with his father, even if he did seem to have an unusual connection with Buffy. "Uhm, very well, do you want to meet before breakfast? If I can rouse Buffy that early, that is. She isn’t what you would call a ‘morning person.’"
Cedrick snickered slightly. "Then perhaps we should dine in my cabin at the regular time, instead. Wouldn’t want to upset your Slayer, now, would you?" He sounded far more at ease than when they first met a week ago.
"All right, Father. We’ll meet you there in, oh, say, an hour and a half?"
"Excellent. Thank you, Rupert, for giving me this chance to explain."
"Of course." He hung up the phone, puzzled, but curious.
*-*-*-*-*
Buffy and Giles arrived at Cedrick’s cabin at exactly eight a.m. The occupant was waiting for them by the open door. He smiled a genuinely open smile at them as they entered the small building. It was exactly like the others, no luxuries, no extra frills... except for the elaborate breakfast that awaited them on the small dining table. Please, sit and eat first. My story might be long."
Cedrick waited until Giles had seated Buffy, and then proceeded to eat his meal. Buffy took one look at the table full of steaming food and breathed, "Thank God, no ‘Gruel!’" Cedrick began to chuckle, shocking both of them.
"They still call that monstrous concoction ‘Gruel,’ do they? We had some rather more descriptive names for it in my day..." He continued to chuckle, and they joined him, and the room rang with tension-breaking laughter. Finally they sat down to eat and a companionable silence prevailed for the span of perhaps ten minutes.
After eating his last few bites, Cedrick Giles took a deep breath, moved his plate to one side, and launched into his narrative without an introduction. "You know some of this, Rupert, but I’ll reiterate for Buffy’s benefit. I was paired with my Slayer relatively early in life. I was thirty-five when I was assigned to her.. a cheeky ten-year-old named Leila Hayes. She had not yet been activated, so it seemed I had plenty of time to train and prepare her for her task. I was a happy man, with a devoted wife, a young son destined to follow in my footsteps, a surety of my calling... everything a man could possibly want." He stopped, momentarily overwhelmed by the emotions the frank words evoked. He tried to blink sudden tears from his eyes.
Buffy reached across the table and took Cedrick’s hand. He started as a current of sympathy flowed from her, through their clasped fingers, and straight into his heart. His breath caught, and he blinked in surprise and gratitude. She released him, allowing him a moment to compose himself, then asked softly, "What happened to change all that, Mr. Giles?"
The man’s face spoke volumes before he uttered a word. This was obviously the hardest part of the story. He took a steadying breath and continued. "What happened, Buffy, is that my world was turned completely upside down when Leila turned seventeen. Suddenly there was a connection, an empathy, that took us both by surprise. It wasn’t physical, exactly, although contact enhanced it greatly..." He looked at them for confirmation, and saw them both nod in agreement.
Giles had to add, "We experienced a bit of a... a complication, with the onset of our Bond, Father. You may or may not have heard, but Jonas Smith tried to alter it with a secondary spell in the eighteen century..."
Cedrick nodded. "I am aware of your communications with the Council, Rupert. I was back on the job by then. At first, I couldn’t reconcile your description with my own experience. I was one of your detractors, I’m afraid, being the only known Watcher with a contemporary experience. However, after extensive research, I discovered the reason behind our differing connections: Leila was not blood kin to either Smith or his Slayer. So, what we had, or had begun to have, was the pure version of the Bond, as it was meant to be. The secondary spell had no effect on us."
Giles looked envious. "Absolutely astounding! How I wish I had been able to compare notes with you during those first months." His expression turned wistful.
Buffy was determined to keep the conversation on track. "Wait a minute, you’re jumping the gun a little. After the Bond showed up, what happened then, that caused them to not believe you?"
"My... Leila was killed shortly after the onset of the Bond... She had only been activated for a few weeks. I’m afraid I couldn’t cope with the sudden loss of that connection. It very nearly drove me mad. The Council Psychologists believed I was mad. I tried to convince them that the link between myself and my Slayer was the real Bond. They called me delusional when I said I felt... felt her die." He fell silent, head bowed.
After a long silence, Giles spoke softly, almost to himself. "Mother wouldn’t talk about it. I was terrified the entire time... I didn’t understand why you were no longer there. I was barely sixteen when you went away... for good."
Buffy’s eyes began to water as she felt the painful emotions that poured from him.
The older man’s voice was heavy with regret and sorrow. "Your mother was being ‘advised’ by the Council physicians. She finally had me committed after years of fighting against it. She didn’t... couldn’t... understand, and thought I was beyond hope. The Council had a small nursing home in Wales, off the beaten path and far enough away from civilization that the inmates posed little threat to the general public." Cedrick paused again. "I was there for twenty-five years."
Giles eyes held unshed tears as he said, in the same soft voice, "They never told us where you were, Father. We weren’t even allowed to write. I became so angry that they had taken you away. I decided then and there I wanted nothing to do with being a Watcher. I suppose that was when I began to rebel against Destiny." His voice caught and Buffy reached for his hand in much the same way she had reached for Cedrick’s. A visible calm came over his face as he drew strength from her. He managed to finish his thought in a husky voice. "When Mother died, and I still didn’t hear from you, I was sure you were dead. I mourned both my parents that fall. I ended up dropping out of Oxford and running away to London, a choice I have regretted ever since."
"I’m sorry, son. I had no way of knowing. By then, I had became obsessed with researching the Bond. I begged, bargained and pleaded for books, exchanged them when I had to, and slowly I began to build a case in my favor. For years, I spent every waking hour trying to prove to them I was quite sane. I wrote letters, massive documents supporting my position. I’m sure it made for amusing reading, if they were read at all. It wasn’t until much later that the Director began hearing rumors about other Watcher/Slayer pairs exhibiting the same symptoms. The existing Council labeled it "pseudo-psychic nonsense". Details and reports of the Bond were immediately quashed. Only a few members of the inner circle were allowed to read the reports, but some of them began to wonder if the reemergence of the Bond was something to be embraced, not expunged. One of those members was our Chairman. When you, the active Watcher, began to report similar effects, the argument became a full-blown schism. They began pulling out my old manuscripts and studying them in addition to your reports.
"When I was released, the old Director resigned in protest, and the internal war began in earnest."
"And then, last year, we up and asked to be excused from class ‘cause of the Bond!" Buffy exclaimed. "No wonder we caused such a stir!"
"Indeed, you did. There was no hiding its existence any longer. Many of them wanted to make an example of you both... but the Chairman had other ideas. He saw this as a chance to clear the air and bring this argument to a halt. It was he that convinced the Director to bring you here. He very nearly paid for that with his life."
"Is he gonna be okay?" Her voice held fear and concern.
"Yes, the Doctor believes so. We need him. Rupert cannot Chair the Council from America, no matter how efficient he may be. And we cannot leave the Hellmouth unguarded. We may have a Slayer and Watcher in place, but both are far too inexperienced to be left alone."
Giles was happy that his father wasn’t crazy, but hurt that the Council would keep him in the dark... and embarrassed by his own self-involvement. "Father, I should have been here. Perhaps I could have supported the Director and brought this matter to a more peaceful conclusion. I was so caught up..."
Cedrick waved his hand, stopping his son from continuing. "No, Rupert, I don’t believe you could have done so, even if you had tried. The Bond is all-consuming, particularly in its early stages. You could have very well suffered the same fate as I; labeled mad and hidden away."
Before she burst, Buffy had to ask, "So, what is this echo chamber effect I hear when you talk, Mr. Giles? Is it a leftover from your Bond?"
"Excellent guess, Buffy. I believe it is... and the fact that we can connect, however briefly, proves that the Bond has both tactical and general uses. My... connection... is fragmented, undeveloped, even painful, but still functioning. There can no longer be any doubt. It was indeed meant to strengthen us in our battle against Darkness."
It still made her uncomfortable that he could get inside her head, albeit briefly, and with limited power. But, she recognized and connected with his feelings of horror, loss and betrayal, for she knew them well. She decided to make an effort to help him learn to control his side of the link. One final question still burned in her brain, and she had to ask it. "Uh, I gotta know, did... did you see an angel? When the Bond kicked in?"
Cedrick sat up and looked at her strangely. The faint echo in her head stilled completely for a brief moment as he thought about what she had said. He turned a questioning gaze towards his son. Giles tried to explain. "A few weeks after the onset of the Bond, we faced a... crisis, of a sort. A crossroads. After it was over, we were visited by what Buffy calls an angel. I usually refer to him as a Messenger of Light, for that was how he appeared."
His father seemed deeply shocked by his words, and Giles was tempted to recall the question when Cedrick began to laugh, suprising them again . He laughed for several minutes, and by the time he finished, Buffy and Giles were both becoming alarmed. He shook his head, still chuckling. "Oh, I’m quite all right. Dear God. It was the one thing that I couldn’t deal with... the one memory that almost convinced me I was mad. I would have believed I had lost all sanity, if Leila hadn’t seen him as well. But she wasn’t there to corroborate my story." He smiled sadly and quoted, "The Bond gives you strength, but it also opens your minds. There are Dark powers that welcome that kind of opening. You must guard your minds and your thoughts..."
"He said the same thing to us!" Buffy bounced with excitement. She stopped bouncing after a few seconds, an awe-stricken look on her face. "*Wow*. This is heavy-duty." Suddenly, she scooted closer to Giles and kissed him on the cheek, not caring that his face reddened slightly. "We’re like the Blues Brothers!"
Cedrick was totally confused now. Again, he appealed silently to Giles. "I believe she is referring to a line from an American movie, Father." Buffy looked at him, surprised. "Yes, I actually watched when you made me sit through all those video tapes, Buffy. Now, what were the exact words they used...?"
She practically crowed, "We’re on a mission from God!"
The next two weeks passed harmoniously as Giles fulfilled his role of Chairman without a misstep. It was as if he was born to the position, and it worried Buffy a little that he might be taking to the job too well. She loved England, but she loved California as well. She wasn’t ready to give up her life there, not yet, anyway. Still, she could see him one day taking the position and excelling in it.
They both spent several hours a day experimenting with the Bond between the two of them and Cedrick. Before long, Giles was able to communicate brief thoughts to his father without emotion overwhelming them both. The sessions were attended by most of the remaining Watchers, and almost always ended in a prolonged discussion of the Bond, its origin, and its purpose. After convincing the group that this power was to be the norm, not a fluke, they were approached by two other Watchers who were experiencing the first effects of the mysterious connection. One had a Slayer-in-training already; the other swore he could locate his, if they would let him go to Botswana and get her. A major paradigm shift had begun among the ancient Society of Watchers, and the Bond was at its center.
The Director and Giles, with help from the convalescing former Chairman, began to outline the details of how the Bond could be used. They met daily and discussed curriculums, tests, and ideals. They argued strategies and training. Giles enjoyed every minute of it. He felt as if he had finally come home.
Downtown London was wrapped in a flattering blanket of darkness. It hid the imperfections and dirt quite effectively. Soft light glittered from myriad windows; long, undulating lines of bright red and white lined the busy streets. He knew he would miss his homeland when they left in the morning. The tug of his new life was strong, however, and he found himself looking forward to a mild California winter. He chuckled to himself... he never imagined he would choose winter sunshine over snow. ‘I must be getting old,’ he thought involuntarily. ‘Next, I’ll be looking for a retirement home in Florida.’
"You play shuffleboard all you want, old guy... I’ll be hittin’ the beach!" He laughed at his wife’s cheerful banter, and turned his attention again to the window, changing his focus slightly. In the reflection of the large window overlooking the city, Giles watched as Buffy sat a small silver bowl on a table beside the bed and made her way slowly to him, smiling. He readjusted his eyes for another quick look at the city, trying to memorize the details and carry them back to his new home a continent away.
"You miss England, don’t you?"
"At times. But I have a new home now." He turned a thoughtful face towards her, intending to continue the conversation. She stopped him with a hand against his lips and popped a chocolate dipped strawberry into his mouth. He blinked in surprise as the tart-sweet flavor assaulted his tongue.
"Mmmm. That’s quite good."
"Thought you’d like it."
"Ah, do you suppose I could have another?"
"Maybe, if you’re very good."
"I *can* be very good, so I’ve been told."
"Why, that sounds like boasting, Mr. Giles!"
"More like a promise, Mrs. Giles."
Buffy giggled as she led him away from the window, her fingers linked with his. Stopping beside the bed, she reached up for a warm kiss, tasting the tang of strawberry on his tongue. They broke contact slowly as he reached for another piece of fruit and offered it to her. He fully intended to make their last night in London a memorable one.
Buffy murmured her approval of his idea as she bit gently into the berry and captured his fingertips at the same time. Her lips and tongue began a slow, sensuous assault on his fingers, her eyes never leaving his face. An answering fire began to smolder in his eyes as he watched her. After all, watching her had been his job from the beginning.
Joyfully, the Bond began to pulse in rhythm with their hearts.
* * *