Retirement

Prologue: A light rain drifted through the dimly lit alley of an unfashionable section of New Orleans. It was quiet except for the faint sounds of a struggle as a not entirely human figure dragged a reluctant young girl into the darkness, his hand firmly clamped across her mouth. The creature forced her against the wall, roughly exposed her throat and prepared to feast upon her blood when it suddenly stopped and looked back to the entrance of the alley. A second person, dressed in a trench coat, was quietly approaching. "Stay where you are, I'll get to you in a moment," the creature snarled confidently as the intruder came closer. It was a woman. She didn't appear to hear him, as she never altered her stride and continued to close the distance. "I have never seen a person so eager to die," he said. He abandoned his prey - she slumped down against the wall sobbing uncontrollably - and turned to face the newcomer, walking slowly to meet her. He grabbed her by the throat. "You're pretty," he said, "I'll kill you slowly."

He vanished in a sudden explosion of dust and she replaced the stake in her pocket. She walked up to the girl, crouched down and examined her cursorily. "You'll live," she said brusquely. The girl clambered unsteadily to her feet, whispered her thanks to her savior between sobs, and hurried out of the alley. The woman rose, turned to follow her, then hesitated.

She glanced back down the alley - there was another figure approaching. This time, she waited, permitting him to close the distance unmolested. He called to her as he got within 10 feet. "Well done!" he said heartily in an accent that suggested he had spent many years haunting places like Cambridge and Oxford. "Indeed! You certainly have not lost your flair for the dramatic -" His cheery speech came to an abrupt end when he found the end of a sharpened stake pressed against his jugular and the cold eyes of the young woman boring directly into his. "I-I bring you news..." he said, struggling to regain his British composure. "I expect it to be of some interest to you. It's about Buffy Summers..." The pressure of the stake increased as he said this name. "She's dead."

The stake fell away. "What does that have to do with me?" she demanded.

"I'm from the Watcher's Council," He said slowly, breathing more easily. "We'd like you to come back to us."

The members of the Watcher's Council chatted nervously as they waited for Faith to arrive. "Her powers are certainly waning," said the gray-haired, bespectacled man. "Most likely they have been for some time. She almost perished in her last combat, a battle that should have been, for her, routine."

"It will be a shame to lose her," the woman to his right said. "She has been one of our finest Slayers, perhaps even our best."

"Excepting the Summers girl, of course," a bald gentleman objected.

"Quite right..." the first man said slowly, "but she was a rogue slayer."

"So was our Faith," the woman commented. "Yet for nearly a decade she has performed her duties with great dispatch."

"But whatever are we going to do with her now?" a new voice asked.

"There is the tradition," woman replied quietly.

The bespectacled man sighed heavily. "If there were any other way..." he began, but his thoughts were interrupted when Faith entered the room.

She had changed - not physically, she had barely aged - but she wore an elegant silk dress, oddly incongruous with her left arm in a cast, that the old Faith would never had touched. As she sat down opposite the Watchers, remnants of the old Faith were evident - there was the swaggering self-confidence, the piercing gaze that contemptuously swept in all a person's deepest secrets with a single glance, and a slit which ran nearly the length of her dress and revealed her shapely leg almost in its entirety as she crossed her legs and waited with a semblance of patience.

"Faith," began the gray-haired man. "Good of you to come."

"I didn't realize this meeting was optional," she remarked. Something in her tone and expression suggested she was talking to an imbecile.

"We are here to discuss your... situation," he continued, clearly flustered by the Slayer's flippant response. "As the prophecy says, 'In every generation...'" There was a subtle change in her body language, an evident impatience. "Yes, well, the key word is, or course, generation." He looked at his colleagues for support.

The woman came to his aid. "Generation is an ambiguous term. At the time of the prophecy, a woman was certainly married by 15 and if she lived to be thirty, she was more fortunate than most."

The older man had recovered. He looked gratefully at his companion, then picked up his conversation once more. "A generation has passed since you received your calling," he said. "The next Slayer has been chosen and your powers have passed to her. You have probably experienced some momentary lapses before you lost them in their entirety last Thursday." He paused; Faith had turned ashen. "The Council has made provisions; we are grateful for your assistance and we have always provided a modest stipend for former Slayers."

"Not so modest anymore," chuckled the bald Watcher. "Few of the Slayers have lived to collect their retirement, and, with the action of compound interest and responsible management of the portfolio, the retirement fund has grown to a considerable sum. You'll find yourself well-provided for."

"You think you can just throw me away!" Faith was on her feet, her right fist clenched. "I've been doing your dirty work and you're just going to turn me out to pasture? You can keep your damn gold watch and your pension plan..." She glared at the gray-haired man with an intensity that suggested she was barely restraining herself from beginning a killing spree.

He blinked, cleared his throat, then said, timorously, "W-we thought you might feel this way..."

Watcher's Diary - 3/16/2012

I know I'm behind in my journal writing - especially since this is the first time I've made an entry in it and I've been on the job almost 11 months. But I thought I should start writing now that I've kidnapped my Slayer. Plus, I've been suffering from insomnia the last couple of months and have some time to kill.

I suppose I should say a few things about myself, for the sake of posterity - I'm a former Slayer, one of only 6 since Roman times who've survived their jobs. The other five were all consecutive - each one training her successor. Early on, the Council decided that the best Watcher a Slayer could have would be a former Slayer. It's a tradition. The Watchers love tradition. And I'm a great slayer - or I was - one of the best ever, according to the histories. I've killed vampires and demons on every continent but Antarctica, and I would have ended up there, too, except I caught that demon in Tierra del Fuego. Now I'm a Watcher. Sort of. The Council never trusted me completely - reading my Watchers' diaries (I've had seven different Watchers since rejoining the Council) I'd discovered that they'd had "contingency plans" to kill me for the first seven post-Buffy years I worked for them, just in case I went rogue again. So they gave me a co-watcher to watch over me, Little Giles. At least that's what I call him; his real name is Trevor or something but he has that Giles stutter. I handle the physical training of my Slayer and he handles the book-learning.

Which brings me to my Slayer, Emily. She's sound asleep right now but I've still got all this adrenaline and caffeine pumping through my veins. After 11 months of boredom, we finally see a little action and she goes to sleep. And in New Orleans.

She's from Southampton. I was at the tail end of wiping out an infestation of vamps in the south of England when my powers started to go. There are always potential slayers in the world, but, according to the Watchers, the one who gets activated is the one closest to a supernatural event. Lucky her. She's very English. Masterpiece Theater accent and a private school uniform. I'd been watching her for awhile, as per Council orders, when I spotted someone else following her home from the library, her usual haunt. It was late at night and he had vamp written all over him. I got ahead of them and slipped into an alley (I spend a lot of time in alleys). As she came by I stepped out in front of her and placed a crucifix in her hand. She was too startled to resist. I turned her around to face her pursuer - he slowed down as he saw he'd been spotted and approached more cautiously. "Hold up the crucifix," I whispered to her softly, but she just stood there so I took her hand and held it up for her just as the vamp got a little too close - he recoiled and vamped out. She let out a dainty little yelp and would have dropped the cross if I hadn't steadied her hand. As it was, she did drop her books. I let go of her and circled around the vampire, telling her as I did that she was facing a real vampire and if she dropped her guard, it would kill her. She looked at me as if I was insane, but she kept the crucifix between herself and the vamp anyway. I began to herd the vamp back toward her, but she backed away and it slipped down the alley. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in after me, slipping a stake into her free hand. "You're going to need this," I told her and briefly gave her the Slayer rundown. It turned out to be a blind alley and the vamp was trapped. "Go get him, killer," I said and pushed her gently toward the frantic monster. She took a halting step forward, then looked back at me, letting her hand fall. It was all the opening the vampire needed and he knocked the stake from her hand and sent her sprawling with a vicious backhand. I staked him, then helped Emily up. She was crying.

She was in denial for a few weeks after that. The British are very good at self-delusion - they still think they're an Empire after all. A bigger problem was that her overprotective parents - the Watchers would prefer all their Slayer candidates be orphans. They solved this problem by offering her a full "scholarship" as an exchange student to the USA - the Academy of the Holy Cross, in Kensington, Maryland. Her parents jumped at the chance and Emily was transported to America where her "host family" was a pair of Watchers, Little Giles and his wife. I went along, happy to be back in the land where you have 53 TV channels to choose from and even the educational programs have gratuitous violence. The Council even paid to have my black Jaguar sent along (did I mention my retirement package? Very nice. Although I don't know why they didn't pay me better when I was the Slayer considering all those zeroes in their bank account, greedy bastards.)

We'd been training for about three months when the Council sent us word about a potential threat brewing in Sunnydale, of all places. I increased my training sessions with Emily in anticipation of an epic battle. But the Council did nothing. Preparation, the watchword of the Watchers. They had determined that the following summer, during the solstice, is when the event would take place and saw no reason not to use all the intervening time for research and training. It's not that Emily didn't need a little practice, she did, but the more time we have to prepare, the more time they have to prepare. And things don't always go as planned so it helps to get a jump on the enemy. I explained it all to Emily: if we wait 'til the day before the solstice to act, what happens if we get stuck in traffic or our flight is canceled on the way to the slayfest? The world ends? Who knows - the Watchers haven't been very clear about the details. They probably don't even know yet. Start early, I told her, it'll give us a room to maneuver. But how to get the Council to agree to it...

I started kidnapping Emily about four months ago. I'd pick her up after school in my Jag on a Friday and spirit her away to the countryside where we could train uninterrupted by Little Giles - he'd been trying to monopolize her time with Latin and Demonology studies. She's good at that stuff and likes it more than the physical training, but she's 15 and there are about a thousand people better at it than her working for the Council. My point is, they don't need her to help with the research, but she does need to improve her fighting. I brought her back the next day. Little Giles was frenzied, but I just played dumb. Technically, I'm in charge, she's my Slayer, he's my helper. I don't have to ask for permission to take her out for an all night training session. But it set up a pattern; I kidnapped her 4 or 5 more times, sometimes for the entire weekend, other times just for the evening. So yesterday, at the beginning of her Spring Break, when I abducted her again, she didn't think anything out of the ordinary - and neither will Little Giles. We were in New Orleans by midnight.

Why New Orleans? Glad you asked. I spent a lot of time here after I recovered from my coma - the coma caused back when rogue Slayer Buffy Summers tried to kill me, drain my blood and feed it her vampire boyfriend - so I know the streets. It's also infested with vampires - I blame Anne Rice for that, they all come to New Orleans 'cause they want to be like her moping vampire heroes - so Emily can get a little practical slaying experience before taking on the big boys. Training is very different from reality as my first Watcher found out the hard way. We visited one the out of the way cemeteries, with their above ground coffins. It didn't take long for a trio of the undead to home in on us.

"Are they vampires, Faith?" she asked me as soon as she noticed them.

"You should be able to tell, if you concentrate," I answered. "It's a Slayer thing - you'll feel a little sick as they get closer. But, yeah, they are. And now I have a question for you: do you want to fight them one at a time or all at once?"

She couldn't tell if I was joking or not, so after a moment's hesitation, she answered, "One at a time, I should think."

"If we wait here, they'll all arrive at the same time and you'll have to fight all three. If you run, they will follow you and the fastest will reach you first. If you kill him before the second gets to you, you'll be able to fight one at a time. And after you dust the second one, the third one'll probably run, if he's smart." She looked at me nervously, sort of hurt, as if she just figured that I wasn't going to be helping her. "Better decide quick, Killer, they're getting kinda close."

She began to run; the vamps all took after her - they never risk an encounter with someone who'll stand their ground when a runner is available. The vampires began to string out, although the first and second were pretty close. Emily turned to fight. I brought out my crossbow and drew a bead on the second vamp. I dusted him before he got close enough to Emily to distract her. The slow one stopped and looked back in my direction to see what was happening. Emily staked the first vampire and the slow vampire, the smart one, made his decision - he ran. "Catch him!" I yelled to Emily. She began the pursuit and I dropped the crossbow and followed them - there was a time when I would have been able to reload and fire before the vampire realized what was going on but I just don't have the strength any more.

I caught up to them in time to see the end of the battle. She had knocked the vampire down from behind, then kept him at bay with her crucifix while she caught her breath. When I arrived from behind them, the vampire turned and looked - she moved in immediately and staked him - he never knew what hit him. When I could breathe normally, I said, "Good job, Killer."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that, Faith," she said. But she was glowing. And she wouldn't shut up - non-stop chatter for next three hours; no more shy little homesick English girl. We headed back to the Jag, then hit a mini-mart for some iced cappuccino and candy, lots of candy. Plus a pair of cheap sunglasses for her, to try to make her look more dangerous. Didn't really work - probably 'cause she's still wearing her Holy Cross uniform - the Catholic schoolgirl look doesn't generally strike fear in the hearts of the undead.

We picked up two more solitary vampires while cruising the graveyards; she killed the first easily. I had her wait on the second so she could practice feeling his presence. We kept him between us with our crucifixes. He got tired of being the mouse in our cat and mouse game and lunged at her - she staked him instantly, instinctively - pure reflex. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

It's only a few hours to daybreak. She's tired out and sleeping next to me, in the passenger seat. I'm still wide-awake - in fact, I feel like I've just woken up after having been asleep for the last 11 months.

Watcher's Diary - 3/17/2012

We had one more set of visitors last night - this morning, really. Near sunrise, someone banged on my window - I thought it would be the cops, so I borrowed Emily's shades, in case they decided to shine their flashlights in my eyes, then rolled down the window. It was a human with a gun - he yelled at me to get out of the car, which woke Emily up. I complied; she did, too. He had a friend with him, a fat kid, trying to look tough. Probably High School wannabe gangsters from the suburbs, playing at being carjacking thugs. I took the gun from the first kid and left him curled up on the ground trying to figure out which of his body parts he should be clutching in pain. I'm so used to fighting the supernatural that when I fight humans it's like they're moving in slow motion. I popped the clip from the gun, pulled the trigger once to make sure no bullet was in the chamber, then handed the gun to the fat kid, flashing him one of my "take the gun, it won't help you" looks. He didn't know whether to run or start crying. Then Emily asked, "Is everything all right, Faith?" in that piping little English voice of hers. It broke the tension - they immediately went from intimidated, scared little children to macho gangbangers looking for a fight. They attacked me. Emily helped out - we gave them a sound beating, they never laid a finger on either of us. They stayed in the ring longer than they should have - probably 'cause we're girls and their egos were at stake. They ran off, shouting obscenities at us, which was OK, but then they started throwing rocks at us from a distance, some of which were bouncing off the Jag. I grabbed the crossbow and put a bolt in the fat one's leg. He screamed like a little girl and they hobbled off.

"You oughtn't have shot him," Emily reproached me, "we're not supposed to harm humans."

"I wouldn't have had to, if you'd kept quiet. They were ready to run 'til you opened your mouth," I replied. Definite hurt feelings. The girl cannot hide her emotions at all - we'll have to work on that. "It's not your fault," I continued, "English people just aren't intimidating. Intimidation is important - if your opponent is afraid of you, he'll hesitate, giving you time to kill him." She didn't look convinced. "When we get to Sunnydale, pretend you're a mute, you'll get into less trouble that way. Practice looking dangerous without speaking, like this..." I gave her my 'I'm-not-listening-to-you-but-go-ahead-and-keep-talking. - It'll-give-me-time-to-decide-which-of-your-internal-organs-I-want-to-remove-first' look. She tried it, but just looked like a sulking, spoiled teenager. "We'll practice," I sighed and put the sunglasses back on her.

"Are we really going to Sunnydale?" she asked me when we got back into the car. I hadn't told her my plans yet. But she'd read all about Sunnydale - I brought some selected reading with me from England including all the journals (the original copies) Giles had kept (he even kept a diary after being expelled from the Council, which the Council seized after Buffy's death) and had given Emily access to most of them. Especially the ones that showed the Council in a bad light.

"That's where the real action is," I told her. "The Council may not know what's going on there, but I'm guessing there's at least one person in Sunnydale who's on top of things."

She was quiet for a little while, then she asked softly, "You mean Rupert Giles, the rogue Watcher?" She's quick like that. I just smiled at her.

We stopped in Austin, Texas for food and shopping - neither of us had changed clothes since we left Maryland. We hit the mall and I dropped Emily off in one of the fashionable clothing chains, handed my Gold Card to the attendant and told him, "Make her look American," then headed out to do some shopping of my own. I bought some work clothes for us - dark colors in a style that suggested that the wearer is looking for a convenient target upon which to vent their suppressed rage. I also got a slinky black dress and some cool shoes. Never know when you might have to dress up - I've had to go undercover before; I even suffered through some etiquette courses so I know which fork to use in those fancy restaurants I never go to. European vampires tend to be aristocratic, so to get close to them, you have to appear to be of their station. When I picked Emily back up, she looked better. Maybe with some black lipstick and a little make-up... but somehow I get the impression that no make-over is going to be able to entirely dispel that waifish quality she exudes. But at least I can make her look like a surly, sullen waif. We ditched the cheap shades and I got her some expensive ones plus a pair for myself.

I let Emily drive through the empty parts of Texas. We stopped in Arizona and stayed the night in Flagstaff, in a hotel this time, 'cause Emily wants to see the Grand Canyon tomorrow before heading to sunny California. Another sleepless night for me.

Watcher's Diary - 3/18/2012

We got an early start. The Grand Canyon is no big deal - just a hole in the ground.

I stopped in a little town, half an hour from Sunnydale. We checked onto a cheap motel and I changed into my dress-up clothes. I put some makeup on Emily and made her look less like a mannequin and more like a girl. I finally figured out what I like best about her - she's not blond. We had a late lunch at the fanciest restaurant in town, which wasn't all that fancy. Then we headed for Sunnydale.

I rolled into Giles' driveway at 5:30. Shades on, we marched up his door and I knocked on it authoritatively. I had thought about how I wanted to meet him and my initial thought was to sneak into his room at night and hold a stake to his throat, but he's pretty old and might've had a heart attack. I didn't realize how hold he was 'til he answered the door. Time has not been nice to him.

"Hi Giles," I said, "are you gonna to just stand there with your mouth open or are you gonna let us in?"

"F-faith!" he stammered.

"Note the classic Sunnydale reflex," I said to Emily, glancing over the top of my shades, "never invite someone into your house, especially if they ask you to."

"What do you want?"

"I'm working for the Watchers again," I said. Then I decided to have a little fun with him. "They sent me here to bring you back to England to stand trial. As a lesson to other would-be rebel Watchers." He turned pale and shook, stepping back from the door. I thought he was going to faint. "Relax, Giles. I was just kidding," I said as I entered his house. "I've retired from the slaying business, this is my replacement. I'm her Watcher. You better sit down." Emily cautiously followed me. I could tell from Giles' expression that he knew the retirement tradition, but was horrified that the Council had followed it. "We're here in Sunnydale for a little slaying practice."

"Sunnydale is not the best place for a novice Slayer," he finally said when he had gotten over his initial shock.

"What do you talking about?" I asked him with a look that suggested I was talking to a mentally deficient three-year old. "According to the latest Watcher reports, it's still the spot for killing vamps."

"Now is not the best time..." he protested. He knows what's going on here. I knew he would.

"Not the best time?" I repeated. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought any time was a good time for slaying vamps. It's not like they're endangered or you need a permit to hunt them..."

"How long are you going to be in town?" he asked me suddenly. He doesn't want to share information. That's fine. I'm pretty sure I know what's going on anyway.

"Depends how long it takes," I remarked casually as I examined the room. A recently used book was laying on the coffee table. I let my eyes remain there a few seconds - Giles almost had a panic attack when he saw me notice it. We were interrupted. A woman about my age burst in and demanded to know whose car was blocking the driveway. She did not seem happy to see Emily and me. Almost jealous. Giles stammered a reply and blushed - they're definitely sleeping together. I caught her name as I settled into a chair to watch the unfolding domestic scene - Anya. The ex-demon. Emily caught it, too.

"Relax, Anya," I said. I tossed the keys to Emily. "Move the car," I told my Slayer. She left to do as she was told. That seemed to calm Anya down a bit. "I'm Faith," I told her, "we've never met formally, but we had some mutual friends, back in the Buffy days." She knew me by reputation but didn't seem that concerned. Something else was on her mind. A secret. "We'll be staying here for a few days with you and Giles." Giles flushed as he realized I knew his dirty little secret but Anya wasn't bothered at all. She has a different secret.

"Y-you most certainly will not!" Giles exclaimed indignantly.

"Look, Giles," I said as I picked up his book and began leafing through it at random, pretending to be absorbed in my task while I watched his reaction with my peripheral vision. "I'm sure you've kept up with the supernatural happenings in Sunnydale better than the Council. You help us out, I'll help you. I'll talk to the Council about seeing you reinstated." That got his attention. "Maybe they'll even give you back pay." He didn't believe me - didn't want to believe me - but he couldn't help hoping. I closed the book, set it straight up on its spine and let it fall open by itself - to whatever section they'd been looking at most frequently. The panic in his eyes... a beautiful thing. It was in Latin - I've only picked up enough to swear at the demons, but Emily's fluent. I memorized the page number for future reference, then snapped the book shut and tossed it back on the table. There was a palpable decrease in the tension.

Anya said, "We could use their help." She and Giles exchanged meaningful looks. "What could it hurt?" Giles' look said he didn't even want to think about possible consequences.

"Emily'll sleep on the couch, I'll take the floor," I said reassuringly. "You won't even know we're here." Emily knocked timidly on the front door. Giles and Anya ignored her. More significant glances. There's going to be a fight when we leave. I'm betting Anya wins. I got up and went to the door. "We'll be back later. I'm going to take my Slayer on a quick walkabout through Sunnydale, then we'll head to the Bronze. That's still a vamp hangout, right?" Giles mumbled affirmatively. "We'll be back late," I continued, "Don't wait up." I opened the door and we left them - I could hear the whispered tones of the argument begin before the door shut.

We stopped by the old high school on our way to the Bronze. I'd half expected a statue of Saint Buffy the Demon Slayer, but there was only a small plaque in memory of the dead students. Someone had tried to develop the area, there was a strip mall that looked like it had never seen any business - it's probably hard to sell unholy ground.

The Bronze was the same as it had always been. I sent Emily for drinks and told her to home in on the vampires while I grabbed a pool table. I picked up a hustler right away - he offered to play me for a $20 stake. I agreed, I mean what's $20? Plus I can bill it to the Council as a business expense. Emily whispered to me part way through our game that she thought she had spotted a couple of vampires. I whispered back that she better make sure 'cause the Council frowns on accidentally slaying humans, then try to get them by themselves. But I agreed - they were definitely vamps. She went over to take a closer look and one of them came over to meet her halfway. You'd think she'd never talked to a guy before - and maybe she hasn't. But it worked for her - he was totally after her, and in a couple of minutes he was leading her to the back door. He went out first and she looked back at me, helplessly - I tossed my pool cue to her from halfway across the room - she caught it, of course - then I got another, ran the table, and grabbed the money. I was headed to the back door, when Emily stepped back in, flushed and with clothing in disarray. "You looked like you've just been ravished," I said to her quietly when she approached. Some smirks and whispers from surrounding teenagers indicated they shared this impression. "Did he give you any trouble?"

"A little," she replied with a faint smile and a blush as she smoothed out her clothes. I checked for the vamp's friend. He was unhappy - he hadn't been looking when I'd thrown the cue - too busy working on his own potential prey. But he was not happy to see Emily return. We returned to the pool table - my hustler was gone. I was just beginning to teach her how to play when the other vampire headed to the back door to find out what had happened to his blood brother. We followed him, naturally, and caught him in the alley, all alone. As he whirled around to face us, Emily picked up the broken cue she had left by the side of the door, handing me half and keeping the other for herself.

"You do not know what you are dealing with," he growled as backed away.

"Vampires?" I suggested.

He vamped out and lunged at me, grabbing my stick with one hand and reaching for my neck with the other. He should have focused on the Slayer. She staked him. There was something that stayed behind, something that clattered on the ground. I picked it up. An amulet - one I'd seen before, in a book. Normally, objects worn by vampires turn to dust with the vampire - when they don't, they're important. They have to be. Only objects "of power," as the Watchers say, survive.

We headed back to Giles' house. Emily was bubbling with enthusiasm again - and lots of questions that I masterfully evaded by switching the subject to guys, specifically, which ones at the Bronze she "fancied." We grabbed some fast food on the way, a sack of burgers and some fries.

Making an entrance: very important. As we approached, I saw Anya and Giles sitting in the front room, drinking tea - it was still relatively early. I kicked open the door. Tossing the amulet to Anya, who caught it reflexively, I marched across the room, straight to the bookshelf, dropping the food in Giles' lap along the way. Giles had put his book away and left a few others out as decoys, but I have a photographic memory and the change in the arrangement of the books was like a beacon. I grabbed the book and tossed it to Emily. "Page 73," I said. I dropped down into a chair opposite Giles and looked into his eyes. He looked ridiculous with a sack of burgers in his lap and he knew it. Plus he knew I knew he'd been holding out. Anya had finished examining the amulet.

"You can't just break in here like that!" she complained. "Say something, Giles!"

"Yeah, Giles," I chimed in, daring him to lie to me, "say something." He was too rattled. "What's it say, Killer?" I asked Emily, never taking my eyes off Giles.

"It won't do you any good," Anya said, "it's Latin."

"Dreams... dreaming of blood..." she began haltingly, "Then some word I don't know - I-I think it's a name of some sort... Astarac?"

"Buffy's demon," I said, my voice dripping with wonder and amazement.

Confession time. Giles confirmed everything I'd suspected. The Cult of Astarac was back in town - nearly thirteen years ago they had tried to bring their demon god back to life and had been stopped by Buffy - but it had cost her life (plus Xander's and Willow's). Giles had written all about it in his diaries - I knew all the details by heart. I'd found out in my researches that they use a weird calendar dating back to Roman times and only every 12-13 years, when their Holy days match one of the solstices or equinoxes can they attempt the ritual. But they had some information I hadn't known about.

"What's the rush," I had asked, "the solstice is still months away."

Anya and Giles exchanged glances. "The Council must be using the version translated by Paphnutius the Stylite," she said. "He assumed the cultists used the Roman calendar. They had their own version that was off by a couple of days each year - the Chaldean manuscript corrects this mistake. This year their summoning day matches the vernal equinox." March 21 - 3 days from now. No wonder she'd wanted our assistance.

"They also need a source of power," Giles added, "hence, their location. The Hellmouth provides the energy necessary for the ritual. I'm afraid defeating them a second time will be difficult - the first time they were opposed by an experienced Slayer and her team." I ignored this obvious insult. "This time," he continued, "they've had more than a decade to prepare."

"So have you," I replied, "you must have found a spell to use against them in that time or uncovered a weakness they have."

"We concentrated our efforts, initially, on sealing the Hellmouth; we did not discover the return of the cult until late last year," Giles said.

"So close the Hellmouth, how hard can it be?"

"Not hard at all," Anya answered. "The troublesome part is keeping everything within three miles from being sucked into Hell when the gateway closes."

A few more details about the demon: the vampire cult that surrounds it regards it as their creator - they think he made the first vampire. Lots of demons claim to have invented vampires. They believe if he manifests himself, they will become linked to him - he will be able to feed off the souls of their victims, while they will gain increased strength and durability from him. Maybe some other powers - it's pretty vague. But the ritual they perform isn't to bring their dead god back to life - instead they summon another demon who has the power release spirits trapped in Hell. Buffy wasn't killed by Astarac, but by this gatekeeper demon. It was able to use the power that had gathered (from the ritual, from the Hellmouth, or from the solstice - maybe even all three) to kill her. It's only mentioned once in all the demonic literature that Giles and Anya have come across - in a myth from ancient Welsh oral tradition. We shouldn't have to deal with it at all if we can break the cult before the equinox.

I used to wonder why the vamps tend to collect in groups, but now, I think I know why - It has to do with how and why a vampire is sired. In general, a vampire only turns a human into a vampire when he needs an underling - so they choose weak-willed creatures. Each generation of vampires becomes less self-reliant - after all, if a strong-willed person is turned, their first priority is typically killing off their old master. So we end up with packs of pathetic losers waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

The sun's coming up. I've spent the rest of the night in my car, writing this journal and rereading Giles' Buffy Diaries.

Watcher's Diary - 3/19/2012

I left Emily with Anya and Giles, doing research -- not that they'll be able to uncover anything new in the next couple of days when they couldn't find it during the previous years. But it did give her a little practical experience with one of the best researchers the Council ever fired - plus, it gave me time to plan out the evening. I drove through the streets of Sunnydale for several hours, thinking and checking out all the places I used to know - Buffy's house, the Mayor's mansion, the dirty little hotel I stayed at when I first hit town and the fancy apartments that Wilkins had set me up in. I also picked a can of gas and some mint chocolate chip ice cream. When I got back, I borrowed a couple of Giles' swords to practice fencing with Emily - she didn't really need it since back in Maryland I'd emphasized swordplay - decapitation kills almost anything with a head. I also had her practice drawing the crossbow - I pull the trigger, toss it to her, she'd cock it and toss it back. We got the drill down to a science - very fast turn around time.

We headed out at 8:00 that night - Giles wanted to know where we were going, but I just ignored him. I put on my trench coat and hid my crossbow and one of Giles' swords under it. Emily carried the gasoline. We also had the usual assortment of stakes and crosses. Plus the amulet I'd taken off the dead vamp from the Bronze with Astarac's symbol stamped on it, which I was wearing as a necklace.

We walked down to Willy's Bar, in the demon-infested part of town. I had Emily set the gas can outside, handed her the sword, loaded the crossbow, and gave her one last warning:

"Put your sunglasses on and remember what I said..."

"I'm a mute," she replied. Such a bright girl.

We walked in. There were 7 customers, 3 obviously demon, but the others could have been vamps, humans, or demons that looked human. Plus Willy. I was surprised to see him still alive - I'd've thought one of his disgruntled patrons would've killed and eaten him long ago.

"No one get excited," I said, "you're all gonna die - but the person who can tell me the most about this amulet gets to die last." I held up the talisman with my left hand as I said it - the crossbow was in my right. A vamp was trying to slip out the back - I nailed him, tossed the crossbow back to Emily, she cocked it and tossed it back to me - not quite as fluidly as we'd practiced, but still pretty good.

A big, horned demon growled as it rose to its feet. "You dare to threaten us!" He was advancing now. It didn't look like a crossbow bolt would slow him down at all, so a fired at a not-so-innocent bystander - there was a table with two very nervous looking vampires - they had been whispering frantically since I'd held up the amulet. I dusted the one on the left and backed away from the big demon, preparing for a fight. I didn't have to worry; Emily sliced off one of its arms. It whirled to face her, howling in pain, and she decapitated it. An impressive display. Only Willy objected now.

"You can't just come in here and kill my customers," he whined. I stepped forward - there was that sudden moment of recognition and he went quiet.

I turned and walked to where the vampires sat. I bent down and picked up a second amulet from the dust - I'd been pretty sure I'd heard it fall. "You - stay," I said to the second vampire. "The rest of you can go." They lost no time filing out - only Willy and the vampire stayed behind. The vampire was very nervous. He also had an amulet and I pulled it off his neck. "You want to live? Start talking," I told him.

And he did. Names, dates, locations - he betrayed every confidence he'd ever had. When he was finished, I turned to Emily, "Do we dust him or let him go?"

"I think we ought to kill him," she said uncertainly "he is a vampire, after all."

"You promised..." the creature wailed.

"It's your call, Killer. If you stake him, you'll start getting a rep as ruthless - the demons will be afraid of you, which is good, but they'll also fight to the death since they'll know your going to kill them no matter what. If you release him, you'll get a reputation as someone who can be dealt with fairly. They'll be more cooperative, but have less respect for you."

"What if he tells his people that we're after them and know where they live?"

"He won't. They'd kill him for betraying them."

"All right, then, let's let him go. I don't much care for the idea of killing someone when they can't defend themselves. And we did promise."

"You heard the Slayer," I said to the vampire, "get out of town before she changes her mind." Didn't have to tell him twice - he was gone.

"Get the gas can," I whispered to her. Then I went to talk to Willy. "Got a match?"

"Sure, Faith," he said nervously handing me a couple of books. I had a lighter, but I thought using his matches would be a nice touch. "Complimentary. Hey, how long you gonna be in town?" Emily had returned with the gas. I took it from her and began to pour it around the bar. "What are you doing!" he shrieked.

"What Buffy and I should have done years ago," I replied, "burning this place down. I suggest you get out if you don't want to go with it."

"This is my livelihood! You can't do this to me!"

I lit a match, used it to light the whole book and tossed it into the gas. I escorted Emily and Willy out the door. He was crying. "Better leave town," I told him. "What the cops and firemen find in the rubble will be enough to send you away for a dozen consecutive life sentences."

Emily and I headed over to the address the vampire had given us. It wasn't far, just a few blocks. We heard the sirens in the distance. The fire engines would be too late - the buildings in this area are firetraps. The bar was an inferno before we had gotten two blocks. Emily looked back at the flames. "Gosh, Faith," she finally said. I've got to teach her how to swear one of these days. "I feel bad for the tavern owner."

"He made his living selling human blood to vampires. And who knows what to the demons. Don't lose any sleep over it."

We arrived at the spot. It was a house - dilapidated, but fairly large. We entered through the back, hopped the broken fence - Emily had traded in her sword for a stake, I still had my crossbow. The back door was unlocked - without a slayer in town the vamps have gotten complacent. We slipped in quietly and began a recon of the house. The ground floor appeared empty - but there was something wrong with the dimensions of the rooms. I began to carefully examine the walls and in a few minutes I found it - a concealed door. It took a few more minutes to figure out how to open it. It swung outward and revealed a small room, with a table in the center filled with books and various artifacts: braziers, candleholders, jeweled knives, herbs and powders. There were also three vampires in it. I fired the crossbow, but the nearest vamp had moved close enough to hit the crossbow just as I fired so the bolt struck his friend a little too low. I backed out quickly and he stepped into the doorway, where Emily and I could both attack him. He caught right her arm as she tried to stake him, but she brought her crucifix up with her left and forced him to release her. He backed into the room again and I made a show of beginning to reload the crossbow. He lunged for me and, this time, Emily slipped past his guard and dusted him. We entered the room but the other two vamps had used the intervening time to flee - through a trap door in the floor that had been concealed by a rug. They had grabbed most of the occult paraphernalia.

But they left behind a book, which I pocketed, and a candelabrum that they had been using for light, the house having no electricity. I picked it up and hopped down the trapdoor into Sunnydale's infamous storm sewers. Emily followed reluctantly. Buffy's problem was that she was too passive - she always reacted to what the demons threw at her when she should have been hunting them down where they live. They were easy to track, their tracks showed up, even by candlelight, in the glistening mud that covered the bottom of the tunnels. We'd been down there awhile when I stopped. Footsteps. Behind us. More disturbing were the shadowy forms at the edge of my vision in front of us. They were surrounding us. I fired the crossbow behind us. That stopped our pursuers - I probably didn't hit anything but it made them cautious - none of them wanted to be the first one staked - and a squabble broke out. I grabbed Emily and dragged her forward and quickly as possible. We ran into two vamps - I dusted one as he began to issue some vague threat against our lives (I wasn't in a talking mood) and Emily dropped the other. The sounds of pursuit from behind had been renewed and we ran on into the darkness. I stopped her when I found what I was searching for - access to the streets where we would be free to maneuver. I pushed Emily up the ladder, holding our fan club at bay with a crucifix and a candelabrum, which I subsequently threw at one of the vamps, then followed her. We climbed out into the middle of a deserted street - still in the bad part of town. We hadn't had time to catch our breath when a second manhole cover some 100 feet to our right slid open, followed by one to our left. Several vamps began emerging from each.

We ran to a house in front of us as the vampires began to close. "Kick open the door," I told Emily. She protested - it was someone's house, what if they were home... I smashed my elbow through a window. Then unlocked and opened it. I hopped through - Emily didn't. There were sounds of fighting outside - I ran to the front door, pulled it open after briefly fumbling with the lock and dragged Emily inside - she'd been fighting back to the door. The vamps were furious - screaming obscenities at us. I handed the crossbow to Emily, which she dutifully cocked and handed back to me. The vampires stopped in mid-rant and began to scatter. I dusted a slow one. Emily told me that she'd staked one as well.

There was someone else nearby - the owner of the house, probably a little old lady, judging by the feminine decorations and the faint odor of cats, was nearby and quietly watching us. Probably praying we'd leave. We didn't disappoint her - with the vampires gone, we stepped back outside. I stopped. A vampire had dropped one of those ornate knives by the door - it was bloody.

I picked it up and looked at Emily; she was pale. "Are you badly hurt?" I asked her.

"I rather think so..." she began unsteadily. I caught her before she hit the ground. She'd been stabbed in the shoulder - a deep wound but not serious other than the loss of blood. I stopped the bleeding and carried her to the hospital.

Which is where I'm writing this as I wait for her to return to consciousness. I had to tell the cops that we were attacked by knife wielding gang members. They didn't ask too many questions. She was given some blood and plasma, which she needed, and a few stitches, which she probably didn't, considering how fast Slayers heal.

Watcher's Diary - 3/20/2012

She woke up around seven. I finally checked her out a little before noon, over the objections of her doctor and we returned to Giles' house. He was angry, of course. We'd "lost the element of surprise" and had "tipped our hand." I ignored him. By my count, we've killed 8 members of their vampire cult and that means 8 fewer vamps to fight come the equinox - 9 if you count the one that left town. He was also angry about the fire. I handed him the book, then went to fix Emily a bowl of ice cream.

Turns out the book was important - not to them but to us. It was a Latin translation of their calendar - days begin at sunset for them - not sunrise - so the equinox begins tonight at sundown - not tomorrow. Anya was panicked when she found that out. She ranted for several minutes before Giles finally calmed her down. Then she left to prepare her spells for the evening. Emily told me secretly that she "thought, maybe, we ought not trust Anya entirely." I smiled at her and told her she shouldn't trust anybody.

"Not even you, Faith?"

"Especially not me, Killer."

Anya and Giles think the ritual will take place on the old school grounds - as close to the Hellmouth as possible. They also want us to wait until the ritual has actually begun before attacking - if we attack too soon, they're afraid that the cult leaders will escape and try again, later that night, at another location. Anya was especially insistent about this last point. They also decided to share their information on how to kill it - its heart needs to be removed and placed in a chalice of holy water - the chalice needs to have been blessed. Then, the traditional decapitation.

Watcher's Diary - 3/21/2012

The events of last night are etched into my memory - head wound notwithstanding.

We got there at sundown and waited. It's the part of the job I always hated most - you get wound up for battle and end up just sitting there. They finally began to arrive at 11:00 and the important guys got there about half an hour later with their dead god in a stone sarcophagus covered in bas relief cryptic symbols. They were ready to begin by midnight. There were lots of them - I counted 5 priests (obvious in their ceremonial dresses) and 13 guards. I raised my crossbow - Anya stopped me.

"Shoot the guards first," she said. "It's a long ritual, you'll have plenty of time to stop it - assuming the guards don't kill us all."

Sounded reasonable. I dusted a guard, so did Giles with his antique crossbow. That got their attention. The vampires came after us - I had time to get off one more shot then prepared for a fight. Giles was fighting with us but Anya was in the center of a magic circle of her own, preparing some spell.

There were just so many of them... I felt a sense of déjà vu. I hadn't been there when Buffy died, but I'd read about it and had imagined the battle in my mind - I could almost see where the vampires had overwhelmed Xander, where Willow's last spell had blazed through the night sky and where the demon had cut the Slayer down. In the distance, the strange carvings were glowing and the chanting had reached a fever pitch. Giles had gone down; my right arm was broken and I was bleeding from a head wound that had left me a little disoriented. The last vamp had knocked me into the side off the building and I'd had trouble getting back up. The gateway was opening - I'd get to have a first hand view of Buffy's slayer - but then, it was gone. Inhuman shrieks split the night air as the five chanting vampires vanished in columns of flame. Then all was quiet - even the remaining guards had stopped in shock to see what had gone wrong. I staked the one nearest to me and saw Emily do the same. The vamps fled - Emily began to pursue one, but I called her back. I looked for Anya - she was gone; the section of the ground inside her magic circle had been burned black. Giles was moving, but not very quickly.

I hadn't felt any pain when I was fighting, but it hit me when I stopped. I began to walk toward the stone coffin, but the night closed up on me.

And I woke up in the hospital with Emily sleeping in a chair by my side. First good night's sleep I'd had in weeks.

When she woke up, she filled me in on the details. She had completed the ritual alone, cutting out the demon's heart and immersing it in Holy Water. She said it had begun to burn as soon as it hit the water and as the heart burned, the demon's body began to smolder as well. As she prepared to slice off the demon's head, it had opened its eyes, staring right at her. "It was a bit disturbing," she had told me. "For a moment, I couldn't move. Then it shut its eyes again and I cut off its head. As soon as I did, the whole body burst into flames. The entire body was gone in an instant. Rather exciting, actually." I slipped back into unconsciousness and heard the rest of the story later.

Anya had reappeared in the center of her circle a few minutes after I had collapsed. She was weeping. I found out later what had happened. She'd lost her demonic powers about fourteen years ago, but she had never lost hope that she could recover them. She had stolen the power generated by the ritual to fuel her own spell to try to force the demons to reinstate her as a vengeance demon. They had refused and she had finally been forced to accept that she would never again be immortal. She was a broken woman - everything she had been living for was now gone forever. Giles will take care of her - in fact, he'll probably find her to be more docile now that he's all she has left.

Watcher's Diary - 3/23/2012

I got out of the hospital yesterday and Emily gave me some bad news - my Jaguar had been destroyed - probably by the vampires. I had to talk to the insurance guys, but they had agreed it was totaled and it wasn't my fault. Maybe I'll get a Porsche or a Hummer next time. We stayed with Giles and Anya again. Emily went on her first solo patrol last night and returned full of stories.

I caught her practicing looking tough in the mirror, looking disdainfully over the top of her sunglasses, arms folded across her chest. She flushed when she saw me watching her.

"Oh...hi, Faith, I was just..."

I cut her off. "I just wanted to tell you that you've been doing a great job, Emily. I'm proud of you," I said. She suddenly hugged me, then left quickly for her patrol. Weird girl.

This isn't a bad job.

Better than my last one, anyway.

Watcher's Diary - 3/23/2012

We're about to land back in Maryland. Emily slept through the entire flight. I left the Buffy diaries behind for Giles - I thought he'd like to have them back. I'm just putting the finishing touches on the journal. Little Giles will be furious of course; I think I'll let him ramble on for awhile, while I glance around looking bored. When he's worked himself into a frenzy I'll hand him the journals - probably hit him with them in the gut - and tell him to make sure the Council gets a copy. Maybe a clever, spontaneous remark (true spontaneity requires lots of planning.) Then a dramatic exit, while he's trying to figure out what just happened.

And speaking of dramatic exits, I'll have to start working on them with Emily.