Title: Sick 'Em, Ripper! 2/? (Yes, it's another series, so shoot me).
Author:Jacqui
Rating: At the moment, G.
Disclaimer: They're mine! They're all mine! Oh wait, no, this is the real world, isn't it? I don't own squat. Except, maybe, the dog and the Molotov Cocktail. Also, I'm not a doctor, I lay no claims to medical knowledge, whatsoever, if the following chapter makes no sense, then that's too bad. Suspend disbelief just for once, will ya?
Spoilers: First three seasons, then I take control. Things were different in my Buffy college universe.
Feedback: Is the Pope Catholic? (On a side note: Is the Pope still alive?)
Comments: The Council is evil. Do we all agree? Good, then you're ready to read on...

Dimmed lights cast an intimate, romantic mood over the room. Light sounds, the clinking of glasses, the tinkles of silverware on china, hushed conversations, floated like waves through the air, carried by the heat of the open flame in the far corner. Candles on each table danced with lit flames and illuminated the faces of couples around the room.

On one table, reserved for over a month, the flame flickered back and forth between two people. Neither was having a good time, but they were both pretending to. He watched her closely, trying to discover the source of her sudden distance.

Robert laid his fork on the plate in front of him, freeing his hand to cover hers, his finger gently stroking the side of her thumb. There was something wrong, he could tell, he didn't know what is was, though. There was a lot of things he didn't know about her.

Buffy's eyes flicked to their hand on the table, very slowly she placed her free hand over his and extracted the one underneath.

"I… I'm sorry."

"Buffy? Something's bothering you, what is it?"

His voice was soft and gentle, so damned full of concern. For a moment Buffy wished that he'd do something, say something so completely unacceptable, that it would be reason enough for what she was about to do.

"I saw someone last night."

Robert felt his chest tighten.

"Saw? What do you mean, you 'saw' someone last night?"

"I don't want to…" Buffy looked down at her plate. "Not here, not tonight."

"No, now." He pulled his hand back across the table. "Screw tonight. I only passed the bar."

"Robert…" She pleaded with him, but saw that his face was set. "It was a man I used to know. A few years back. He was a large part of my life back then."

He closed his eyes. He didn't need to hear anymore. There was something a little too true about what she was saying. They'd gotten close, he knew, in the past four months, but there was always something missing.

"Back then?"

She deliberately avoided the question.

"And he suddenly showed up last night. Re opened a whole lot of wounds that should have stayed buried. I need some time to think."

He heard the words one by one as they nailed into his brain. I need some time to think. Great, why didn't she just pull out an ouzi and take off the back of his skull? It would have had the same impact, with a lot less mess.

"Just tell me one thing, did you love him? Do you now?"

She didn't need to answer, he read it in her face. His suspicions confirmed, he'd never held first place in her heart. She may have wanted him to, may have needed to feel as if she were part of something, but her heart had never let her go.

He slowly pulled out his wallet as he stood up and placed several notes on the table. She looked at them before looking up at him.

"Robert, no. Don't do this. Don't let it end this way."

"End?" He took her hand and bent down to kiss it. "Buffy, it never began. Don't feel bad, I knew this was coming."

And then he walked away.

* * * *

Buffy lay on her stomach on the sofa, her cheek smushed against the arm. Several feet away, the television which had already made her eyes glaze over, was shouting at her that she needed to "Pack, Vac and Stack: right now!"

Her hand idly swept through the thick fur at the back of Ripper's neck. Ripper half lay on the ground in front of the sofa, half sat. His head rested heavily on the cushion in front of her face. Deep brown eyes stared into deep brown eyes. At regular intervals, his warm breath would snort over her face and he would inch forward, sending a tentative rough tongue to dart over her cheek.

She heard the footsteps before they even entered the room.

"He left me, Will."

"Yeah, but, you broke up with him before that. Remember? The whole 'the love of my life came back to see me last night' thing? Guys don't take well to news like that."

Buffy brought her arms in close to her chest and turned over onto her back, she sighed at the ceiling. One hand drifted upwards into the air. The room had grown dark without her noticing and her skin looked gray.

"Oh, Robert, yeah, him."

She watched as Willow's hand came over the top of the sofa and twined itself into her own. The fingers were long and delicate, soft and gentle. Willow tilted her wrist upwards so that the beads surrounding it fell down and rolled onto Buffy's arm.

"Don't put yourself through this again, Buffy. You'd only just found Robert."

"I can't help it." Buffy reached up with her other hand and fingered the beads. "I wasn't prepared for this, Will. My life was going great, you know, I had a boyfriend, I've almost got my degree… and then 'boom' nuclear breakdown. He comes back."

Willow's hand retreated and was joined on the back of the sofa by her other hand and a face which rested on the two. She looked down at Buffy with sympathy.

"Don't I know it. You were lost for nearly two years, don't let it happen again. Don't push them all away again. Why don't you call up Robert and talk him back around?"

Buffy sighed.

"Robert's a nice guy, but he wasn't the one, you know?"

"They never are." Willow stood up and walked around the sofa to stare down at Buffy. "Let me tell you something, they never will be. None of them are Giles, not a one." She knelt down to look Buffy in the face. "You want to know something else? Not even Giles is Giles anymore, at least, he's not the person you have in your head. You've built him up so high, it's impossible to reach."

Buffy refused to look at her.

"If you're going to shoot them all down for not being Giles, then why don't you go after the original? Huh? Go find Giles now and tell him how you feel!"

"He doesn't want me anymore, Will, he has her now." Buffy twirled the beads nervously.

"Woah! Back the truck up… were we at the same reunion last night? 'Cause he looked way more than interested to me."

"But he left with her." Buffy's lip pouted. "He chose her."

"You know," Willow stood up again. "It's a good thing we're well past freshman psych, 'cause those subtexts are becoming so much less subby. I'm surprised you didn't call her the 'other' Slayer. Why don't you go boil her pet bunny or something?"

"Will?"

"No! You listen to me. He didn't leave you. You told him to go! If you really want him that badly, go after him. Suck up that pride and beg. Look at you! Stop whining and do something."

Buffy stared at her in shock. Then she sat up and grimaced.

"I don't even know where they are."

Willow handed her a piece of paper, smiled smugly, and then left. Buffy looked at the hastily scribbled address. It was in a handwriting she would never forget.

* * * *

She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but apparently she had. A footstep in the hall outside woke her from a deep and hazy sleep. The paper was still crumpled into her hand, wrinkled now, as she lay on the sofa. The lamp on the desk sent out a dim light, but it wasn't strong enough to light the room and deep shadows lay everywhere.

The footstep sounded again, closer this time. Willow was always looking after her. Buffy looked down at the beads on her wrist and smiled wistfully. What would she do without her friend? Willow was too good to her.

Buffy walked towards the door, silently promising herself that she would do something special for Willow the next day. A bunch of flowers or something. Without thinking, she looked around the room for Ripper, he was nowhere to be seen. Strange, she thought.

Then Buffy opened the door.

* * * *

The first thing Willow noticed when she woke up was the quiet. There were still shadows dancing around the corners of the house and when she looked at her watch, she saw that it was four in the morning. Way too early to be up, but she was awake.

On her way back from the bathroom she noticed that Buffy's door was open, but the bed hadn't been slept it. That meant either of two things, Buffy had gone after Giles or, most likely, she'd fallen asleep looking at the address trying to psyche herself out of going.

Willow walked down the stairs, if Buffy had slept in that damned chair all night, she was gonna feel it. It would be better for everyone if she woke Buffy up and told her to go to bed. No one wanted a cranky slayer.

She cursed softly as her foot ran into a little side table. Damn, she thought, how did that get there? Her eyes drifted along the floor and she noticed Ripper asleep just outside the study. Usually he'd be up already, out the back door and terrorizing the neighborhood.

Knocking lightly on the door, Willow waited for a response. There was none. She knocked again. There was still no answer, so Willow pushed the door open. It took several seconds for the scene to register. Several more before she realized what must have happened.

* * * *

Giles was awake. He hadn't slept at all. Across the room, behind the makeshift partition he'd made, Fiona snored lightly. She'd refused to talk to him all night. Stubbornness, he was sure, was a trait that ran through each and every slayer.

His mind kept returning to the night before. Seeing Buffy after so long. She looked so mature, so self assured, so different. It had been so painful seeing her again, having the feel of her in his arms. For just a split second, he was almost sure that she'd felt something, that she'd been as hungry for him as he'd been for her.

Things never change, he told himself, even now you can't stop seeing things that aren't there. It was her, after all, that had sent him away. His mind was full of contradictory images, of Buffy crying, begging him not to leave, that she couldn't do this without him. Of Buffy, staring at him like he was the devil himself, telling him that if he touched her, she would kill him. Of Buffy, telling him to defy the council and stay with her anyway.

Of Buffy, refusing to meet his eyes and telling him to leave her again.

There was a sudden pounding on the door and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Willow's panicked voice shouting for them to let her in. He rushed to the door and opened it, stepping back as she ploughed through, breathless and frantic.

"They took her Giles! They drugged the dog and they took her!"

"Slow down a minute, Willow, breathe in and tell me what happened."

He didn't need to hear it, though, he already knew. Everything seemed to fall into focus, the room sharpened, the little sounds, they all began to make themselves known. He could hear Fiona shuffling behind the curtain, knowing she was awake, he could see the erratic rise and fall of Willow's panicked breaths. He could feel his own anger growing tighter and tighter.

"Willow? Call the others, get them here. We need to find where the council are holed up and we need to do it fast, this isn't…"

"Uh, Giles?" Willow broke in. "What others?"

He faltered.

"Xander and Oz, Cordelia and… and… all the others." He looked at her face. "There are no others now, are there?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm it. I'm all the others you're gonna get. Cordelia went to LA, she's working with Angel." Her voice lowered when she said his name, her eyes shifting towards the face that appeared through the partition, not knowing how much the girl knew. "Xander and Anya are driving around the country on a working holiday. Oz… uh… he left. Tara, a girl I knew, used to help out a bit with spells and stuff, but she left too."

"Anya? The demon Anya?" Giles blinked. He'd heard the sadness in her voice when she spoke of Oz and had wisely decided to keep off the subject. Willow was grateful. If he'd heard any catch in her throat when she spoke of Tara, he'd attached it to Oz.

"She's not all that demony these days, you know." It was Willow's turn to blink, she'd never actually thought she'd be defending Anya. "Look, that's not the point here."

"Quite. Willow, do you still have your laptop? I think you should bring it here. Fiona, I want you to go with Willow and make sure there are no late comers to this party." His words, starting out strong, petered out when they saw the slow, almost embarrassed grin spread across Willow's face as she watched him. "What?"

"You really missed being leader of the pack, didn't you Giles?"

* * * *

"Buffy? Bufffffeeeeeeeeeee!"

She turned over and shuffled her shoulders, the voice entering her mind as if from far away. Buffy could feel a great sluggishness in her limbs and a slowness of her thinking process. That voice, it was English, but it wasn't a Giles form of English, the crisp, clear pronunciations that made you think of tea and scones and the Queen.

This voice was harsh and abrasive, the accent reminding her of pubs and knuckle rings and pit bull terriers. Before it even began to speak again, Buffy could hear the words in her head, heard them as if they'd only just been spoken. Organic Compound. Muscle Relaxants.

This dose must have been higher than anything Giles had dared to give her, she could barely open her eyes. Her vision swam for a moment, riding the room like a wave, before being able to focus on a point of light in the distance. The light grew until she could take in the small details.

"Well, well, the Princess is awake. Don't worry, you'll be back to normal soon." Buffy felt herself being pushed back down onto the bed by a rough hand. "Which is why we'll top up the drugs before then. Hold still."

A sharp pain sliced itself into the crook of her arm and she imagined that she could feel the liquid as it pulsed into her system. There was no possible way she could resist and so she gave into the weakness that was threatening to engulf her.

"Don't worry Buffy, dear girl." She blinked as her eyes focused swimmingly on a bearded face. "It'll all be over soon. You think you can interrupt the Watcher's Council? Take away one of our best men? We always win and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Absolutely nothing."

She wasn't sure whether the delighted little giggle was part of her dream or a carryover from reality, but it grated along her mind and she couldn't shake the nasty feeling that came along with it.

* * * *

Fiona hung back, choosing to watch Willow instead of help. She clasped her arms around her chest and frowned at the hallway while Willow ran into her room and collected her things. The woman was obviously upset and extremely worried at the thought of what the Council could do.

For three years she'd played their game and for three years there had never been any real problems, but there had always been some strains between the Council and Giles. Some hidden tensions and a lot of animosity had told her there'd been something going on, but she had never seen anything that would cause this kind of fear.

And fear it was. She had never seen Giles so afraid. Not once and certainly not for her. Sure, he'd cared and he'd always put her before himself, but Buffy had stolen his heart wholly and completely. Fiona knew she was more than a little jealous.

She also knew that asking aloud whether or not Buffy was actually worth all this trouble, would be cruel and pointless. This woman, Willow, was in a terrified state and Fiona knew from everything she'd heard that Buffy was a good person. She'd been drawn to the older slayer, at least she had been until she'd seen Giles' reaction to her.

Her eyes drifted to the pictures on the walls, they were full of happy people. Buffy, Willow, several people she didn't know and Giles. Every photo she saw him in, he was with her. Looking at her with an expression that was undeniable. An emptiness began to gnaw at her.

"Fiona? You ready?"

She turned around and nodded.

"Sure thing."

Willow locked the door and the two women stepped out into the street. There was a lot of space between them as they walked.

* * * *

He couldn't stop his fingers from tapping on the ear piece of the phone as he waited for the numbers to process. The little clicks sounding frustratingly slow to him as he seethed. Giles hadn't even had to look up the number, it came to him naturally. The voice that answered was happy and cheerful.

"Interoffice Communications. Systems fitted to your needs. Bridget speaking, how may I help you?"

"It's okay Bridget, it's Rupert Giles."

Immediately the other voice toned down, warming with familiarity.

"Rupert. Well, in that case, Watcher's Council at your service."

Giles was immediately on alert. There was something he couldn't identify in her voice, a slight guardedness that trembled through despite her attempts to keep it hidden. If he'd had any doubts before as to what had happened, they were gone now.

"I don't have much time, can you please put me through to Charles?"

"Mr. Bramston is unavailable."

Giles paused, when he spoke again he could barely keep the sneer out of his voice.

"Out of town on business, mayhap? Is Stephen in?"

"I'm sorry…"

Giles closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Another ally closed to him. The poor girl, she was only doing her job and he hated to put her in the middle, but it was obvious that she'd made her choice. He was fast running out of patience.

"Bridget," He spoke slowly and carefully as if talking to a very small child. "I'm the Watcher of the current and only Slayer. Are you telling me that nobody in the Council will talk to me anymore? Because if you are, you can tell the rest of them I am through playing by their rules, if they really want to see…"

"No, no of course not. That's not what I'm saying at all." He could hear the slight panic in her voice and it confused him even more. "Mr. Travers is here."

Giles sighed, resigned.

"Quentin? I have to go through Quentin? Very well."

He waited while the necessary connections were made. Then he heard the smug, hated voice of Quentin Travers. The most infuriating thing about this man was that he seemed to have no idea that what he did, the things he lived for, were wrong. He had no idea that there was a reason for people to despise him. Giles wondered whether there would ever be a day where Travers would realize the true consequences of his life's choices, if he would ever truly regret the things he'd done. If there was, Giles desperately wanted to be there.

"Rupert? So nice to hear from…"

"Where is she?" He wasted neither time nor courtesy. "What have you done to her?"

"Why, Rupert, I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Listen to me you sanctimonious bastard." Giles didn't notice when the door behind him opened and the two girls stopped in the doorway, staring at him, shocked by the venom with which he spoke. "If you think this will change anything, you're wrong. This only makes me more determined, I'm not the only one and you know it.

"It scares you, doesn't it? You and your supposed Council leaders? Not one of you has been out in the real world lately, you don't know what we face, you have no idea! Let me tell you something, we're growing, there're more of us than you think. This is just the beginning."

"Rupert…"

"You listen to me, Travers, if anything happens to this girl I will bring you all down. Do you hear me? Your house of cards will crumble faster than you ever thought possible. Tell me where they've got her."

Beside her, Willow felt Fiona tense.

"Quentin, I'm not asking you. Tell me where she is."

"I don't know Rupert, honestly I don't."

"For your sake, I hope that's true. I'm only going to say this once and you better listen. These girls are my life, that's what I was trained for. The council made me that way. I will do anything to protect them and I mean anything. Buffy and Fiona will not be harmed. Do you hear me?"

It was at the sound of her name that Willow felt Fiona breathe in sharply. She turned to the girl and saw the instant look of shock and realization which was quickly covered. Fiona's lower lip trembled slightly before she ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Giles put the phone down and turned slowly, he showed no surprise at seeing Willow, though he had given no sign that he'd known they were there. His eyes followed Willow's to the bathroom door and back again, only to see her green eyes looking at him.

"I swear, Willow, half the time I don't know what upsets her so."

"Who's 'us'?" She deliberately didn't continue with that conversation. She'd sworn long ago to keep out of the relationship between watcher and slayer.

"Us?" Giles watched as Willow gestured towards the phone.

" 'There's more of us than you think'? I'm guessing you weren't talking about Amway salesmen. Giles, what gives?"

"Not now, Willow, please."

* * * *

This time, when Buffy woke, her mind was clearer. She almost felt normal. Well, normal for someone who was used to waking up with what felt like a really bad hangover and a desperate need for a toothbrush and a shower with very hot water.

Immediately her eyes were drawn to the bedside table, which held a large jug of water, one half full glass and several empty glasses upended on a silver tray. Her eyebrows furrowed. Next to it was a vase of brightly colored flowers. Her brows furrowed deeper.

She didn't know what it was, but something inside of her was screaming that this scenario wasn't right, though she could not figure out why. Forcing herself to sit up, her head swimming for a minute, Buffy blinked and waited for the slight nausea to pass. The water was calling to her.

Reaching out, she bought the glass to her nose and sniffed. Nothing. She could smell nothing but the slight coppery scent of tap water. She sniffed again. If there was something there to be detected, Buffy knew she'd have no chance in identifying it. For all she knew, the water could be laced with anything and she wouldn't be able to detect it. She wanted Giles.

A small, polite, cough sounded from the other side of the room. For the first time since waking up, Buffy saw an old man sitting in the corner, watching her. A shiver walked up and down her spine. His face was wrinkled, as were the liver spotted hands that held the walking cane upright in front of the chair, but his eyes were kind, worried almost, as they looked at her. His ankles were crossed in front of him and his pant legs were pulled up enough for her to notice that his socks were mismatched.

It gave him a harmless air. In different circumstances, Buffy surmised, she might have been able to like this man. Without knowing how, she knew he would have much to teach her, were she willing to learn and he willing to teach.

"Please, drink, you must be thirsty."

Her eyes snapped to attention at the sound of his voice. She knew it. She'd heard it before. She searched her brain frantically until her memories focused on that one day in the hospital, listening to Giles fight with him. Listening to him threaten Giles with her life.

"What, with all the drugs you pumped me full of. Right, Mr. Bramston?"

"You have every right to be angry, I certainly don't blame you." He gave no time for her interjection, which he could see she bristled to make. "My colleague misunderstood his purpose and treated you shabbily. I sincerely apologize for that. I assure you, we mean you no harm."

His smile was warm, but completely disarming. No matter what he said, Buffy still didn't trust him. He gestured towards the glass in her hand.

"Go ahead, the water's perfectly safe."

She lowered her brows and dared him with her eyes as she thrust the glass forward.

"Then you drink it."

* * * *

Willow stood just inside the doorway, for several seconds she was unable to move, stunned by what she saw. Fiona sat on the bathroom tiles, her legs in a perfect split, her body bent over to the right, stretched as far as it would go, her toes pointed. It was a surprisingly graceful movement.

"Uh, hi. Are you ok?" She gestured behind her to the door. "I knocked, but you didn't answer."

Fiona gave a little shrug, brought herself upright and then stretched to the left.

"I'm fine, right? What could possibly be wrong?"

"You're feeling like an un-credited extra in the Buffy and Giles movie of the week?"

Fiona had to stop herself from giving a sardonic little smile. She didn't look up as Willow stepped further into the room, lowered the lid on the toilet and sat down. Bringing her left leg around to meet the other, she stretched her feet out as far as they'd go and reached out her hands, easily grasping her toes and pulling them towards her.

"Is it that obvious?"

"No. We're just used to it. You should have been here when they were together all day, every day." Willow took in the slight tremor that Fiona gave off, the too distant air that usually meant someone was concentrating too well. "You do ballet, huh?"

"No, I used to do gymnastics." Fiona finally gave up and drew her feet in under her. "It never went anywhere though, I wasn't good enough. Although, as it turns out, it was good for the slaying. I still keep up sometimes, it helps me relax."

They sat in silence for several seconds before Fiona spoke again.

"I thought it would be different, you know. He always spoke of her like she was some mythical superhero, some enchantress that was too good to ever be real."

She paused as if waiting for Willow to speak, for something. When nothing came, she sighed and continued, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

"I suppose I was testing him more than anything else. To see what he would do, what would happen when he came after me and saw her again."

"Were you surprised?"

"No, not really." Fiona missed the interest with which Willow was waiting for her answer. "I guess I always knew, really. What surprised me was just then, when he included me in his little diatribe."

Willow found herself making comparisons as she listened. She didn't know much about Fiona, or her past, but Willow couldn't help but feel she understood at least some of her unconscious motivations. They were too much like her own, or possibly, she was drawing similarities where there were none.

A crash sounded in the room outside and they both looked up as one. Opening the door, they saw Giles leaning over a table, concentrating hard over the ingredients of what looked like a chemistry project. Fiona, standing behind Willow, was looking over her shoulder.

"What the hell is he doing?"

"Say hello to Giles' old friend, the Molotov Cocktail."

* * * *

Buffy watched as Charles drank a long, deep mouthful of the water, he brought the glass down and his eyes met hers. There was no expression in them, no gloating, no daring, not even the slightest hint of 'see?'. Just a quiet patience. She still didn't trust him.

"But that's not enough, is it?" He asked in his quiet, polite voice. "Not that I blame you, my dear, I don't suppose I would either, in your circumstance. There's always the possibility that the water in the glass is not the water in the jug, isn't there?"

Buffy winced when he called her, 'my dear', and her eyes raced between him and the jug of water. It was true, what he said, she'd been thinking that exact same thing, but she was now starting to feel slightly foolish and paranoid. He seemed so nice. Buffy shook her head, to clear it of these thoughts, there were obviously traces of the drug still in her system. This was the Council, they'd threatened her, they'd threatened Giles.

"I'm not thirsty, thank you anyway. You can stop all of this now."

"Stop what?" His very expression oozed innocence and wounded pride, Buffy felt like a heel. "I'm only trying to make you comfortable. Here." He stood up, walked towards the counter and poured himself more water from the jug. "You have to be thirsty from the drugs you were given. We're not into the business of torture. If I drink this, will that make you feel safe?"

She wanted to spit at him, scream that the only way she'd feel safe was if they let her go, anything, but she nodded. So far this man had been nothing short of polite and gentlemanly towards her. And from what she could remember, before he'd actually threatened him, Giles had shown this man respect.

Buffy told herself that there was nothing else she could possibly suspect from the damned water and she was being overly paranoid and silly, to the point of ridiculousness. She reached out and turned one of the glasses over, filling it with water.

Just before she let the glass touch her lips, Buffy sniffed the liquid, trying to detect if there was anything wrong. Not that she would have known, had there been anything, it was just something she felt she should do.

At first, she sipped the water slowly, letting it trickle into her mouth, but as soon as it hit the back of her throat, she was unable from stopping her mouth from opening up of its own accord and swallowing in large, greedy gulps. Buffy had to pour herself a second glass.

Charles watched with a slight, satisfied smile on his face. He sat back down again and faced her.

"Just so we're clear, my dear, if we had wanted to poison you, we could have done so."

Buffy stopped drinking.

"How?"

"Easily. Knowing you would have been suspicious of the water as soon as you saw it, I wouldn't have done anything to the first glass, because you'd either make me drink it, or destroy it. Also, hopefully you wouldn't be fool enough to trust the water in the jug, I wouldn't have done anything to that either."

His voice was calm as he spoke.

"However, the drugs would have made you incredibly thirsty and you would have been able to hold off only so long. So, as a matter of simple deduction, I would have dusted the overturned glasses with an untraceable, almost tasteless powder that is potent enough to disable even a slayer."

Buffy stared at the glass in her hand. Even as she began to deny this possibility, she felt her stomach clench and her breathing became labored. It was beginning to hurt. It was beginning to hurt a lot. White hot flashes hit her abdomen. She glanced up at Charles.

"Why? What did I ever do to you?"

The glass tumbled to the floor and shattered.

"My sweet, sweet child. You never did anything." He leaned forward, just a little bit, watching her carefully. "But we need Rupert. I need Rupert. He was my best pupil, my favorite pupil. He was like a son to me."

Now he sat back.

"He was more my son than my own kin. And he will be again."

Buffy closed her eyes, no longer able to stop herself from crying out loud against the pain. Her arms were drawn in close and her body began to convulse. Charles didn't move a muscle as he watched every shudder.

"It will all be over soon, my dear."

* * * *

"Got it!" Willow snapped the lid of her laptop shut. "An old storage shed near the wharves has recently been leased. For two weeks, double the usual rates, in cash. The name given was M. Mouse."

She hastily scribbled an address down on a scrap of paper and handed it to Giles. He picked up the bag full of weapons and they left the hotel.

* * * *

His hand shook slightly as it wavered over her face. It had gotten bad there, in the end, but now she lay so peaceful, so still. Charles sighed as his fingers gently touched her eyelids and pulled them closed. It was equal parts respect for the girl and the fact that he couldn't stand her lifeless eyes looking at him.

Blaming him.

Three years ago he had had to do much the same thing and at the time he'd felt that he couldn't get any lower, that he could not possibly hate himself more. He'd just been proven wrong. Slipping a syringe into the arm of an unconscious woman who could feel nothing and was likely never to wake again, had been one thing.

Wrenching the life out of this woman, who had been so alive and so full of spirit and beauty had been another. The bile rose in his throat and he felt the need to empty his bowels. Her skin was still warm and her cheeks still held the last vestiges of color, though they were already paling.

In his head he could remember those times he had watched from afar, all those years ago, to check up on them both. He could see her eyes shining, her laughter showing in her whole body, her energy drifting over anyone nearby. It saddened him.

The room exploded around him. Charles had no time to think. Flames raced up the dry and porous walls and licked at the very air he breathed. Confusion ate at him. He looked at the body on the bed. Rupert, his precious former student, had come moments too late. Never would he forgive Charles for this, never.

Out of nowhere, it seemed, a fist came out and sunk in the side of his face. Charles cried out, dropping his cane, his hand flailing uselessly as it groped in the air for it. No time passed at all before another blow exploded on the other side of his face.

"What have you done?" Rupert's voice screamed above the crackling of the flames. "What the hell have you done?"

Giles' hands gripped the flesh of the older man's upper arms tightly, pinching cruelly as he shook him violently.

"I should kill you for this, old man! Are you happy now? Are you? You're not worth it, you bastard, none of you are." He was almost spitting as he reigned the blows upon the old man. "Tell them the wait is over, tell them I'll come back with a vengeance. You've made your last mistake!"

With that Charles felt himself released, his body falling to the floor. He had no strength left as he watched Rupert pick up the body, cradling it like a precious treasure, whispering, cooing, pleading with it to wake up.

He watched as Rupert took Buffy away, not even caring as he felt the black smoke enter his throat, his lungs fighting the ooze for fresh oxygen. He only hoped it wouldn't take long.

* * * *

Giles gently laid Buffy on the sofa, she had shown no sign of life since he'd picked her up. Willow hovered nervously at his shoulder and Fiona stood back, watching silently. There was warmth, still, in her body, but he was scared.

Wasting no time, he ripped her shirt from her and laid his ears on her chest, his fingers resting lightly on her lips. Nothing. He listened harder, straining with everything he had, as if by sheer effort he could force her to breathe, could make her lungs take in air and her heart beat.

His own heart stopped, standing still.

"Giles?" Willow's voice was small and scared, shaking with the effort to hold back her tears.

And all of a sudden there it was.

The softest sound, he almost missed it, the weakest little heart beat. It was the loveliest sound he'd ever heard. The breath filled his lungs in a rush. Before he knew it, he was tilting her head back, opening her mouth and forcing the air into her mouth. Automatically his hands went to press the bone of her chest, thumping downwards.

Willow pressed her hands to her mouth, sucking the air through her fingers, as if she were trying to seal the space between them. The tears broke through and her sobs nearly choked her as she stared at Giles fighting for Buffy's life. All she could see was one limp hand hanging over the edge of the sofa, the thin wrist circled by the beads she'd placed there.

A whimper came from the other side of the door, followed by frantic scratching. Fiona turned to look at the wood as it rocked in its frame, she could barely breathe. Everyone in the room jumped when the dog barked, once, twice, then began to whimper again.

"For god's sake, shut that dog up!" Giles' face was red and he was breathing fast and deeply as he pounded down again, feeling the bones in Buffy's chest give slightly, but not break. He almost wished they would break, if it meant she'd be okay again.

Willow moaned and she twisted slowly, first at her waist as she faced the door, then followed by her legs as she walked towards it. She had to move fast when she released the handle, half falling, half kneeling as she threw her arms around Ripper's large frame barreling towards the sofa. He growled through his jaws, gnashing his teeth, saliva dripping, as he strained to get past Willow.

The hand that hung from the side of the sofa twitched, then Buffy coughed.

Giles immediately reached for his bag, tearing through its contents frantically, until he pulled out a small bottle. He held it to her lips with one hand, while supporting her neck with the other. Her eyes swam as they tried to focus, she shook her head weakly from side to side, but Giles insisted.

"Come on, Buffy, I need you to drink this, please." She struggled against it, some of the thin, chalky, liquid bubbling up from the corners of her mouth and spilling down her chin. "Buffy, please, it's me, Giles. Please drink it, try for me."

At the sound of his name, Buffy relaxed and Giles could see her trying to force herself to drink. It made him want to cry. Eventually her throat seemed to obey and it rose as she swallowed. He set the bottle down, but didn't let go of her neck, he braced himself.

Buffy suddenly jerked forward and Giles helped position her so that she leant over the side of the sofa as she threw up, again and again.

"That's it, Buffy, that's it. Let it all out."

* * * *

The first thing she became aware of, was the grinding pain in her belly, then the bruise that she felt forming on her very chest bone. Vague memories haunted her of coming to while Giles performed CPR. Buffy opened her eyes and let herself float into a consciousness of her surroundings.

She was in the study of her and Willow's house. It seemed to be empty of all people, but herself, however she did notice a pair of eyes staring at her from across the room. Ripper sat at attention, moving only when Buffy raised one hand weakly, then he rushed forward, dipping his head so that it was under her hand.

"Hey, boy," She was amazed at how weak she actually was and how much it hurt to move. "Where is everyone?"

"Ripper!" Came the frantic whisper from just outside the door. "Get away from there!"

"It's okay, Will," Buffy said. "I don't mind."

"Buffy? You're awake?" Willow's gentle whisper soon turned into a strident shout. "Hey Giles! She's awake!"

Buffy winced, then she smiled. Willow's loud screech gave her a sense of reality, a comfort she felt unable to define. Almost a grounding, a reassurance that nothing was different, that nothing had changed.

Footsteps hurried into the room, a quiet speed that she would have recognized anywhere. Pushing herself up onto her elbow, Buffy strained her vision past Willow, to the worried features she knew so well. A few more lines, she imagined, had been added to his face, deepening the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. She wanted to reach out and touch them.

"Buffy, how do you feel?"

"Tired, weak, sore, but I'm breathing. Thank You."

And then, unbelievably to him, she smiled at him. One of those bright smiles that radiated across the room. How she had the strength to be happy, or to imitate it, after what she'd just gone through, amazed him.

Buffy watched his face melt from worry to relaxation, it was what she'd been holding out for, she let herself fall back to the sofa, it was a relief to take her weight off her arms. She hated feeling this weak. Ripper leaned forward and licked her cheek.

"Yes," Giles walked around and settled himself on the floor next to the sofa, near her head, he ignored the looks that Willow and Fiona gave him as he did so. "I suspect you'll feel like that for a few days yet."

He reached out and took hold of her hand, gently stroking the knuckle of her thumb. It made Buffy feel warm, incredibly safe even after all that had happened. When Ripper jostled for position, pushing himself between her and Giles, she could barely keep from laughing. She blinked slowly, she was so tired.

"Willow?" Giles looked up. "Would you make Buffy a cup of tea, please?"

"Yes!" Willow was happy for something to do. "Absolutely. I might even lash out, while I have the chance, and make myself some coffee. Fiona?" The girl nodded. "Giles?"

"I don't drink coffee." Without even looking up from Buffy, Giles answered distractedly. "I take tea, my dear."

Willow and Fiona looked at him, puzzled, but Buffy smiled and squeezed his hand.

"And I bet you like your toast done on one side."

They smiled at each other, missing the looks that Fiona and Willow shared as they went into the kitchen. Giles was only mildly surprised that she'd caught the reference. The only thing that stayed the same with Buffy was her capacity to change.

"I noticed you had some new scars. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing interesting." Buffy closed her eyes, but opened them again. "Well, ok, interesting, but not unusual. Goblins and ghosties and things that go bump in the night."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here."

Buffy smiled a dreamy smile, her hand patting his.

"I missed you, Giles, but we survived. God, how I missed you."

He sat by her and watched as she struggled to stay awake, failing just before Willow and Fiona came back with their drinks. He idly stroked her hair, thinking of the past couple of days, their consequences. Deep down inside he felt the anger boiling up.

It wasn't something he was a stranger to, this seething hatred. The new part about all of this, was that he no longer wished to keep it hidden and under control. Giles knew what had to be done. He only hoped that they would be ready.

It was time. They'd planned long enough. If ever they were to make their move, it had to be now.

* * * *

Buffy woke with her eyes squinting. The morning sun was pouring through the window and onto the sofa. She still felt sore and achy, but surprisingly strong, considering the way she'd felt the night before. Across the room, Willow had set up camp in a sleeping blanket, Ripper draping himself over her. She was asleep.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she gingerly tested the bruising on her ribs, they still ached, but were already healing. She blinked again. Carefully, she eased her feet out from the covers and set them on the floor, bringing herself up to a sitting position. The room swam momentarily, but she forced her dizziness down.

Suddenly the door burst open and Fiona stormed in. In the short time that Buffy had seen this woman, she's come across as meek and gentle. There was nothing meek and gentle about her now. Fiona was almost fuming, her anger rose off her in waves.

"Are you happy now? Are you goddamned happy now?"

"What?" Buffy tried to stand up, but she fell back onto the sofa. Steeling herself, she tried again, slowly. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?!?" She was almost shouting. "He's gone! That's what's wrong. Giles has left to go and avenge you, by himself, that's what's wrong!"

Buffy blinked as her confused brain tried to make sense of what Fiona was saying, she could hear Willow waking up in the corner. Then her mind cleared suddenly, as if somebody had torn down a curtain. Giles had gone on a revenge spree. Against the council. She groaned as she remembered the last revenge spree.