One Watcher, Weighed And Found Wanting (Part 2)

Theory Queen

Part 2
She collected Faith and they made an uneventful swing through the
park, and one through each of the four cemeteries in that part of
town. After a couple of hours, Faith got bored and headed home.
Buffy continued on her own, walking down the silent street and keeping
a careful eye on the bushes. She was almost home when she felt
something tickling her "spider senses." She slowed in her walk,
casting around mentally for the demon's presence. An evil chuckle
seemed to come out of thin air. Something tapped her shoulder. She
whirled around ó nothing. She turned back the way she'd been going,
and there he was.

Huge ó at least seven feet tall, with mottled skin, dripping pus, and
antlers coming from his head, her enemy stood blocking her way.

"Hi there!" she said brightly. "You must be one of those boys my
mother warned me about."

The thing gave her a mocking laugh. "Your mother wouldn't have the
imagination to warn you about me, little girl."

Buffy's mouth quirked. "Can't argue with you about that. She seems
even more dense than usual lately." She took up a fighting stance.
"So, how do you want to do this?"

"Painfully," replied the creature. It grinned at her through a mouth
full of unsightly, broken teeth. "And chaotically." He lowered his
head and charged at her, almost impaling her on his antlers.

"Ole!" shouted Buffy, almost laughing. The monster looked ridiculous.
He charged at her again. She dodged. She took off her jacket and
waved it at him like a red flag at a bull. "Toro!"

The monster charged again, but instead of lulling her into security by
seeming clumsy, he reached out with his hands and grabbed her. He
pulled her along with him for a few feet, then stopped. Holding her
arms above her head with one hand, the other fluttered over her ribs.
"Tickle, tickle," he said.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Buffy exclaimed. She made one motion
to free herself, but she knew she was in the hands of a power far
greater than her own pitiful superhuman strength. "Um, maybe we can
talk about this?" she smiled weakly.

The demon growled at her and tightened his grip. "Think I'll tear
your arms off first," he remarked conversationally. "Then maybe comb
your hair for you."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You're not making any sense, you know. You
sound almost as whacko as Drusilla."

The monster screamed in anguish. "Drusilla! My raving beauty! How
I miss those ravings!"

"Man, she really did get around, didn't she? What a ëho!" Buffy
might have been better off had she kept this comment to herself. As
it was, it was her last coherent one for quite some time.

*****

"Now you remember to keep away from my daughter, Spike," Joyce
admonished her guest as he departed. "She doesn't quite ó um... I
mean to say, she'll kill you if you bug her. She would never believe
you're trying to quit.

"That's all right, Joyce," Spike grinned. "Wish there were such a
thing as a type O patch, though."

He turned to go, but Joyce stopped him. "One more thing." She looked
out into the darkness around the house and called, "Angel!" Sure
enough, the dark-haired vampire slouched into view. She glared at
him. "I knew you'd still be here. Just remember, no matter what
Buffy says, you're not welcome in my house!" Angel nodded wearily.
Joyce continued. "And another thing. Spike is here in town as my
guest, and I don't want him killed. Got that?"

Angel glared at Spike. "Yeah. Anything else?" he snapped.

"Stay the hell away from my daughter," Joyce hissed.

Spike chuckled at her using that same phrase on Angel that she'd used
on him the first time they'd met. Then, though, her voice hadn't
contained that personalized note of venom that it did now.

Walking away from the house, Spike started to whistle. He was in the
best mood he'd had since... well, since he beat Angel's head in with a
crowbar.

He was therefore not quite prepared for the sight of Drusilla's chaos
demon stomping and kicking at the form of an unconscious blonde slayer
in the street. "Sod!" he swore, running toward the demon. "Angel!"
he yelled, desperate for reinforcements of any kind. He ran full tilt
into the demon, pushing him over and away from the slayer. "Atoz, you
scum!" he muttered, kicking the demon himself.

Atoz roared in pain and fury as he rose and tried to hook Spike on his
antlers. "You killed my Drusilla!" he growled.

Angel arrived then, having heard the struggle. Knowing that Spike
would have to be in dire straights before calling for his help, he had
managed to grab a long-handled shovel from someone's garden on the way
by.

Spike saw him coming and answered the demon. "Yeah, what of it? I
also killed my Drusilla, and Angel's Drusilla, and Lenny's Drusilla,
and hell, even Xander's Drusilla. Do you see a pattern developing
here, mate?" He held out his hand, and Angel tossed the shovel to
him. He pointed to Angel, standing behind the demon. "He's the one
who started it, anyway. Blame him."

"That's right, I did," Angel snapped. Then he punched the demon in
the face, followed up by a hearty kick to the midsection. The
powerful demon was barely fazed. Atoz merely got his balance again
and reared up to his full height, stretching his arms out to reach for
Angel.

Spike made his move then. He swung the shovel swiftly, and the
demon's head hit the pavement with a wet thud. It rolled until it
was, grotesquely, sitting in front of Buffy's unconscious form.

The two vampires grimaced. Spike stepped forward first. Picking up
the limp slayer, he began to carry her to his car. "ëEre, can you
take care of the garbage?" he asked Angel. "I'll take her to her
Watcher."

Angel sighed again ó he did that a lot for someone who didn't need to
breathe ó and started dragging the corpse away. He kicked the
snarling head under the bushes in someone's yard; he'd be back for it
later.

Rupert Giles had fallen asleep on his sofa, when he heard a tremendous
hammering at his door. He opened it to see ó

"Let me in, you sodding bastard!" Spike had gotten himself so worked
up on the drive over that by now he was in a towering rage. "Can't
you see she needs some help?"

Giles, stunned, motioned him in. Spike carried Buffy to the couch the
Watcher had just vacated and laid her down gently.

"What happened?" Giles demanded. "What did you do?"

Spike turned on him, livid. "What did I do? Bloody hell! What the
devil were you thinking, Watcher? Didn't you know a bleedin' CHAOS
demon was in town? What kind of Watcher do you make yourself out to
be, anyway, to let your slayer go out like that, against a chaos
demon?" He started to pace the living room, carried away by his fury.
Just let him know the slayer would be all right, and then he'd take
out his anger on the Watcher who was foolish enough to let her go out
unprotected against Atoz, he thought.

Giles knelt to examine Buffy. Except for the battering she had taken,
resulting in heavy bruises and probably a few cracked ribs, she seemed
undamaged. He waited a few seconds before answering his vampiric
guest. "I'm not her Watcher anymore. The council sacked me and sent
a new one."

Spike stopped dead. He turned slowly. "What?" he came closer. "Why
the hell would they sack you? You've kept her alive, haven't you?"

"Well... mostly." Giles answered. He began to stroke Buffy's hair
where it lay in shining strands on the pillow. "They told me I
endangered her by caring about her so much. The implication was that
I saw her as a daughter, and therefore could not be impartial with her
training."

Spike snorted. "She's the best damned slayer in centuries, and I
should know." Suddenly realizing that this probably wasn't the best
choice of comments in the Watcher's presence, he turned to go.

Giles stopped him. "Spike? Why did you bring her here? What
happened?"

Spike explained about the chaos demon, Drusilla, Buffy's attack, and
Atoz's defeat at the hands ó and shovel ó of himself and Angel.

"But why didn't you kill her?"

"Man, I wish I knew. Maybe I'd miss her if she was dead." Spike spoke
with a half-smile, which disappeared as he said, "I should go now.
Just tell me one thing before I leave." he said.

Giles waited.

"Tell me where to find this new and woefully inadequate Watcher of
hers." His voice was grim.

Giles didn't have any illusions about Spike's intentions toward Wesley
Wyndham-Price, but he didn't find himself disagreeing with the vampire
much. For the sake of his own conscience, he asked, "If I tell you,
will you make a strong effort not to permanently damage the man?
After all, I would have to report back to the council if Mr.
Wyndham-Price met with a serious disaster. And they might send
someone even worse next time."

Spike rolled his eyes. "ëWyndham-Price? He's a toff, eh? If I were
feeling myself, I'd kill ëim just for that. As it is... Yeah, sure,
I'll try not to kill the little pillock. Now, where can I find him?"

Giles, feeling guilty, told him. Then, to quiet the guilt pangs, he
looked at Buffy's battered form and his eyes grew steely. "Of course,
if you try and fail, I'll understand."

Dark vampire eyes met hard grey ones, and Spike nodded.

On the couch, Buffy stirred. "Ow."

"Bugger!" Spike exclaimed. "She's waking up! I'll catch you later,
Watcher. And listen: Just because you got sacked is no reason to
neglect your duty. If I hear that you let her get hurt, and didn't
warn her, I'll come after you next."

"And I'll deserve it," Giles observed as the vampire disappeared
through the door just as the slayer awoke.

"Giles?" she said weakly. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "It's a long story, one which I am quite sure you
will not believe."



Wesley answered the door when the young blond Englishman knocked
politely. "Yes?"

"Mr. Wyndham-Price? I'm sorry for calling so late. You don't know
me, but I'd like to talk to you. Mr. Giles tells me he is retired,
and that you have a closer connection to the council than he does. He
said you'd be able to answer all my questions." Spike spoke with no
trace of his rough accent; instead, he sounded more educated than
Wesley himself did.

Wesley preened. This obviously educated young man had actually sought
him out for answers! This was proof that he was coming into his own
as a Watcher, if even Giles was sending him people looking for
information. "Yes, of course, I'd be glad to help you, Mr. ó"

"Williams."

"Yes, Mr. Williams. Do come in." Wesley said, holding the door open
for his guest.

Spike grinned. Now, those are words I like to hear, he thought. He
walked in and closed the door.



Buffy limped into the library the next morning, still bruised and
sore, but much better than she'd been the night before. She stopped
dead and stared at her mentor.

Giles was sitting at the table, laughing. Laughing so hard he was
teary-eyed and didn't even know she was there. He was holding a piece
of paper in trembling fingers.

"Giles?" Buffy asked, wondering.

He wiped his eyes as he began to get control of himself and try to
regain his dignity. "Ah, Buffy. Just the slayer I wanted to see!" he
said gaily.

Buffy said, "Huh?"

He handed her the telegram from England and cleared his throat. "Uh,
it seems... Wesley is returning to England, and I have been reinstated
as your Watcher. And commended for my devotion to duty and to my
slayer." He smiled at her.

Buffy stared, and before she knew it, they were hugging each other.
"This is great!" Buffy cried. Then she stepped back, suddenly
realizing she had been hugging the school librarian. Her eyes
twinkled as she asked, "Does this mean you'll take me to the ice show
next year?"

"That remains to be seen," he said formally.

She let that pass, and changed the subject. "It's kinda sudden, isn't
it? What happened?"

"Well, it would seem that you have... ëfriends in low places,'" he
said. "Wesley was the victim of a vampire attack last night, and
brutally beaten for his dereliction of duty in letting you face Atoz
unprepared. I must confess to a certain lack of sympathy for the man,
though. He did miscalculate the date of the demon's arrival, and he
didn't provide you with enough information on how to kill him or what
he wanted. He failed as a Watcher, and his uncle the assistant
director, sacked him."

Buffy was surprised. She knew Angel didn't like Wesley, but she
hadn't thought him likely to beat the man up. He wouldn't have the
nerve.

Giles saw her expression, and his own softened. "This vampire saved
your life, killed the demon, brought you to me unconscious last night,
and then forced Wesley to go home because of his failure to keep you
safe. He also made Wesley to sign a statement that the best Watcher
for a slayer like you... would be the one she was used to, the one who
had kept you alive." He saw her sharp look, and amended, "Well, who
would have kept you alive if you hadn't insisted on going off to meet
the master unprepared!"

Buffy shook her head. "I just didn't think Angel would do something
so... guilt-causing."

Giles took off his glasses and wiped them. "Oh, it wasn't Angel," he
said. He slowly put them back on, enjoying the dramatic pause and the
sharp glare she leveled at him. "It was Spike."

Buffy turned without a word and walked out, trying not to limp.

Giles went into his darkened office and sat down at his desk. "It's
not that I'm not grateful, but why are you doing this? I had thought
that you hated her, you know, ëmortal enemies,' et cetera."

The vampire's voice from the shadows in the office replied, "I wish to
hell I knew why, Watcher. Mortal enemies, yeah, but I've never hated
her. It's never been personal."

Giles looked keenly at him. "And now it is personal."

"Yeah."

"But still not hatred," the Watcher pressed.

"No." Spike's eyes never left the worn carpet under the desk. "Not
hatred."


Previous Part

Main Page