Three weeks later. . .

The sky was beginning to lighten to gray on the eastern horizon, yet Giles still hadn't slept. Gulping his lukewarm tea, he glanced up at the mantel clock.

4:24. With a sigh, the Watcher closed the book he was researching, Ancient Vampire Clans in Eastern Europe. It was an excellent, if somewhat dry, volume and had proven to be invaluable in uncovering the vanquished Master's origins.

Draining his teacup, Giles rose from the sofa, stretching to relieve a kink in his lower back. A faint sound reached his ears. He paused, all senses on alert. Swiftly crossing to the kitchen, he set his cup down and picked up the loaded crossbow from the bar.

It was late, as far as vampires were concerned; much too close to sunrise for comfort. But one could never be too careful. The local vampires were crafty and he wouldn't put it past Xander or his crimson-haired mate, Willow, to plan an early morning ambush.

A second thump, slightly louder than the first, came from the other side of the front door. Cautiously, Giles moved to the door, his finger tightening on the trigger of the weapon in his hand. Just as he was reaching for the peephole cover, a sharp rap reverberated through the thick wood.

Jerking the peephole open, the librarian peered out. Surprise crossed his face and he quickly unlatched the door and opened it.

"Buffy!"

Looking tiny and exhausted, the Slayer smiled tentatively up at him. "Hey, Jeeves."

Before he could ask her in, she squeezed past him and entered the apartment. It was then that Giles noticed the battered leather duffel bag slung over her shoulder. With a confused smile, Giles shut the door and reset the locks.

"I-I must s-say, Miss Summers, I'm surprised to see you here. Is everything okay in Cleveland? Is Merrick okay?"

Buffy shrugged and set the duffel down by the door. "I s'pose. He was when I left anyway."

For an awkward moment, they stared at each other, until Buffy looked away. She seemed uneasy and nervous. "I. . . he. . . well, he drinks. A lot. And when he does, he's pretty. . . um. . . mean."

Giles was shocked. "I say, mean? Has he hurt you?"

Buffy shrugged, her face impassive. "I'm the Slayer, I can take it. Anyway, I wondered if maybe you could give me a place to stay for a little while. When he goes on a binge like this, it's best to just get out of his way."

"Of course! Dear Lord, Buffy, you should've called me! I could've come to the airport for you."

She flushed pink and Giles was struck by how truly lovely she really was. For a moment, he imagined what she must've been like before she found out that she was the Slayer. A pretty, golden child, dressed in colorful, trendy clothes and laughing with her friends.

What a sad, lonely life she had inherited.

"Um, well, I didn't have any money, except a little I was able to filch off of Merrick. When he misses it, he's going to be ticked," she said with a barren little laugh. "So, I hitched."

The Watcher was aghast. "Hitchhiked? My dear child, do you have any idea how dangerous that can be?"

"No more dangerous than vampires, I suppose. Look, I won't stay long. Just until Merrick sobers up."

"Don't you worry about that. Sit down and I'll fix us some tea." Giles hurried into the kitchen, trying for her sake to mask his fury and disappointment in his colleague.

"That's your cure for everything, isn't it? A cup of Earl Grey." Buffy sat down on the sofa and bent over to loosen the laces on her combat boots.

"Everything always looks better over a cup of tea. Plus, it helps me think."

Buffy sighed as she slipped her sore feet out of the boots. She had on her last pair of socks and they already had a hole in the heel. "How've things been since I was here last?"

"Not better, but no worse. The death of the Master threw the vampires into a bit of a tizzy, but there are two eager to take his place."

"The red-haired female? And her leather-clad beau?" Buffy asked as she padded over to the kitchen and climbed up on one of the barstools.

Giles poured hot water into the teapot. "Xander and Willow, yes. They, at one time, had been students at the high school. Nice children. A terrible shame."

"Were they taken during the Harvest?" Buffy asked.

"No. Well, it was around the same time, but after the Master rose. He took them himself."

"I see."

Giles watched as Buffy sipped her tea. She was already beginning to droop in exhaustion, her green eyes pain-filled and weary.

"I'm going upstairs to run you a hot bath. Then, I want you to get some sleep. We can talk later," Giles said.

"You don't have to do that. . . " she protested, her voice already fading to a whisper.

With fatherly concern, Giles placed his hand over hers. "I want to. It's about time someone took care of you properly."

With a grateful smile, Buffy nodded. "Thanks."

Giles was laying out two fluffy towels and a washcloth when Buffy walked into the tiny bathroom. She lugged her duffel bag behind her and dropped it on the floor. "This is really nice of you."

"It's no problem at all. Take all the time you need and you can have the bed. Try and get some sleep," Giles smiled kindly.

"Are you sure? Did you need it?"

"Not at all. I usually sleep on the couch anyway." Giles turned to leave the bathroom, but paused when Buffy lay a tiny hand on his forearm.

"Y-you don't have to. I-I know what's expected."

"I don't. . . what are you talking about?" Giles asked, confusion stamped on his features. Buffy glanced away, reddening.

"Merrick told me about Slayers and Watchers, how it's. . . normal to. . . you know. . . " Buffy looked up at him, weary resignation reflected in her eyes.

Giles realized what she was intimating and he felt a rage so intense, it threatened to overwhelm him. He grabbed Buffy's arms in his hands and shook her gently. "What are you saying? Has Merrick. . . has he been molesting you?"

Humiliation washed over Buffy's features and she began to tremble. "He said it was the way it was supposed to be. That I owed it to him in. . . in exchange. . . "

"Buffy, how old are you?"

She had the look of a cornered doe, all wide, fearful eyes and quivering lips. "Se-seventeen. I'll be eighteen in a month."

"How long has this been going on?"

Buffy licked her lips, suddenly shy. "Um. . . "

He gave her a shake. "How long?"

"Since just after my parents were killed. I was fifteen," she whispered.

"No more than a child. A confused, hurting child. That bloody bastard!" Giles snarled.

"He. . . um. . . he said it would make me a better Slayer," Buffy said as Giles let her go. She rubbed her upper arms.

"Well, maybe it was expected four hundred years ago! But, this is the bloody twentieth century! Not to mention, it is very much against the law!" Giles cried.

"I'm sorry. . . I shouldn't have said anything. I just thought maybe you might want me to. . . you know. . . reimburse you or something," Buffy whispered, her jade-green eyes swimming with unshed tears.

Giles softened, his heart torn by the young girl's vulnerability. "You're not paying me with your body, Buffy. I have too much respect for you to take advantage of you in such a way."

He could see the confusion on her face, her lack of self-esteem rushing to the fore. Reaching out, he dragged her into his arms and to his surprise, the Slayer burst into tears. Her sobs were harsh, shattering, and they rocked him to the core. Her life was difficult enough without an immoral man like Merrick taking advantage of her in such a violent way. The one thing he had learned as he had studied to be a Watcher was that the life of the Slayer was paramount to his own. They had a short lifespan, usually reaching only about nineteen or twenty years old.

A Slayer deserved their respect, not their abuse.

"Buffy, here now, dry your tears before you make yourself sick. Take your bath and when you feel better, we'll talk. Okay?"

She managed a shaky smile. "Okay. You should pat yourself on the back. No one ever sees this side of me."

"Then, I am honored."

"Thank you, Giles. You've been wonderful," Buffy said as he backed out of the bathroom. "I've needed a little wonderful."

He nodded briskly. "I'll freshen your tea and set it on the nightstand. After you sleep, we'll talk."

With a smile, she closed the door.

Giles' smile was replaced with cold rage. He spun on his heel and went back downstairs. It was time he had a talk with the Watcher Council.

He'd see to it that Merrick never stepped foot near Buffy Summers again.