Alice, the Vampire Slayer
by Elizabeth Vera © 1998
Part 2

It didn't take his eyes long to adjust to the dim light. There were stairs to his right, leading up. Ahead of him, a series of curtains blocked most of his view of the main floor but didn't prevent him from listening. Giles heard a large number of young voices that sounded frightened and confused. An arrogant, mocking voice addressed them.

"What? No volunteers?"

The Vessel, Giles guessed. Suddenly, the voice was interrupted.

"I'm the Slayer. I'm here to stop you."

Recognizing his cue, Giles beckoned to the first group of kids huddling near the door. "Come on, get out. This way." He ushered them out the door. Others noticed and followed. Soon, he was busy getting groups of dazed young people out the door, and could only occasionally listen to the sounds of fighting coming from out on the floor. He could only hope Alice was doing well.

Finally, there were no more kids near the door and he had to venture past the curtains to look for more. The curtains opened up onto a large dance floor; a stage to one side, small tables and bar stools to the other. Iron stairs in the back led up to a central walkway that overlooked the whole room. A large group of young people were standing along the edges of the dance floor, guarded by several vampires. Everyone's attention was riveted on the stage.

Giles looked over and saw Alice holding her own in a fight against a vampire twice her size--the Vessel, he guessed. Despite the difference in bulk, Alice seemed to be coming out the best in the fight. Her smaller size helped her duck under his swings and sneak in several good punches before the vampire had a chance to avoid them. Giles couldn't help but feel a small thrill of pride at her skill.

Suddenly, the Vessel blocked one of Alice's punches, twisted her arm viciously, and knocked her down.

"Alice!" Giles started forward to help her when he was abruptly pulled back by the collar and thrown face first against a wall.

-.-.-.-.-

Crack!

Alice heard her arm snap when the vampire twisted it behind her back. Before she could scream, he punched her in the head and knocked her down.

She dropped to the floor, moaning. This is not how it's supposed to work. I'm one of the good guys. I'm supposed to win. She tried to get away from him, but he was toying with her, blocking her way. I shouldn't be on my knees, crawling. I should be fighting back. It's what the Slayer would do. But she couldn't. She wasn't fast enough, good enough--

The Vessel, tired of playing, reached down and picked her up by her broken arm. The pain seemed to give her new strength. He laughed at her attempts to fight and held her tight, one arm around her waist, pinning her arms against her side, grinding the broken bone ends together. His other arm around her neck, he stood up straight, lifting her off her feet, and squeezed.

-.-.-.-.-

Giles was punched in the stomach and fell to his knees, all the breath knocked out of him. As he gasped for air, Giles heard a woman's voice next to him. "Hello, there. Are you supposed to be the hero?" He was grabbed by the hair and pulled up to his feet. He sagged against the wall, unable to stay upright, and found himself facing a young-looking female vampire incongruously dressed in a Catholic schoolgirl's uniform. "I'll bet you're here to help the Slayer, aren't you, hero?" Giles was too stunned and in pain to do anything but stare at her, blinking away something warm that kept running into his eyes. Dimly, he realized he was bleeding in several places.

Suddenly, her face lit up with delight. "Hey, I know who you are! Old guy, hangs out with the Slayer... I bet you're her Watcher." She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear, confidentially. "I like Watchers." To his horror, he felt her lick his ear. "They taste sweet." Feebly, he tried to push her away but she punched him in the stomach again. He nearly passed out as the air was knocked out of his lungs a second time. All that kept him conscious was the pain in his scalp as she dangled him by the hair.

Finally, she released him and he fell to his knees, gasping. She knelt down next to him. "Well, guess what? You're too late, hero." She grabbed him by the hair, again, and turned him around to face the stage.

The Vessel had Alice in a stranglehold. She was kicking at him and fighting to get loose, but he laughed at her efforts and squeezed harder. Giles watched in despair as he saw her strength failing fast. Finally, Alice slumped in the Vessel's arms, unconscious.

The female vampire whispered in Giles' ear. "Look, Watcher, the last thing you'll see. Your Slayer's dying, Watcher. How does it feel? How does it feel to fail, Watcher?"

Giles watched, frozen with horror, as the male vampire pulled back Alice's head and exposed her neck. With a triumphant cry, the Vessel bit into the Slayer's neck and drank from her.

As if in imitation of the events on stage, the female vampire pulled back Giles' head and bit his throat. He felt the life drain out of him, slowly. After too long a time, she withdrew her fangs and gave his throat a final lick. "How does it feel to die, hero?" She let go of him and he slumped to the floor, barely alive.

Alive... but aware that he was dying. He was dimly aware of sounds, noises, confusion.

.....

Someone tripped over his legs, but he didn't feel it. He heard a scream nearby, far away.

.....

A dull thud. A shape appeared next to him. He struggled to focus on it, but failed.

.....

Fade to black.

*****

"Hey, Giles? Wake up, Giles."

Giles woke up abruptly to find Buffy leaning down close to him. "Gaaaah!" He pulled back. The sudden movement gave him a blinding headache.

"B-Buffy?" he sat up and groaned. Willow was tugging at the straps of his padded helmet and she was making him dizzy.

"Giles, are you okay? I think I knocked you out."

He closed his eyes and held his head, unsuccessfully trying to block out the pain. "What happened?"

"We were sparring, remember?"

"Oh yes. Sparring." Buffy and Willow helped him up to a chair, despite his protestations that he would be fine.

"Are you sure you're okay, Giles? You look kinda pale. Can't have a Watcher who's not all right, you know. 'Cause a not all right Watcher is a... not all right Watcher."

Giles' fogged mind wasn't up to Buffy's brand of conversation at the moment. Fortunately, Xander chose that moment to return with the snacks and drinks and rescued him. Reassured that Giles was fine, the girls converged on the food while Giles went to his office for aspirin.

A short while later, Buffy knocked on his door. "Giles, we're done for today, right?"

"Hmm...?" He was sitting at his desk, head buried in his hands. He'd almost fallen asleep.

"Giles, you look awful. What time did you go home last night?"

"Um..." He wasn't sure.

"Thought so. Tell you what. Since I get the evening off, you should get the evening off, too. In fact, you need a vacation. At least one day. I mean it, Giles. When was the last time you spent any time away from the library?" She continued before he could answer. "There, see? You can't even remember."

"Buffy--"

A voice called Buffy's name from the library.

"I gotta go, Giles. We're having Indian movie night at my place. You go home, okay? I mean it."

Giles made her a half-hearted promise to leave soon. Not really satisfied with his answer, but knowing it was the best she would get, she left.

He sighed. Perhaps Buffy was right. He decided to follow her advice and go home early. But, first, he needed to write in his Watcher's journal. It was one of his daily rituals and, in this time of uncertainty, he took some comfort in the familiar.

As he wrote, snatches from his dream flashed through his mind. A dark-haired girl crying in his arms...Willow dead? He removed his glasses and rubbed his temples for a moment. He concentrated on the circular motion of his fingertips as he tried to remember. Was it just a dream? It had seemed so real. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his throat, at the spot where...

He blinked. The events of the dream came rushing back to him: The Slayer, dead on stage. "I'm not a superhero, I'm just a kid." His own death.

How does it feel to fail, Watcher?

He frowned. Had he?

The Slayer handbook made it clear. The Watcher was there to teach the Slayer. Given the proper guidance and training, the Slayer would succeed. But Buffy had taught him that it wasn't that simple. If training was all it took, anyone could be the Slayer. What was important was the person inside the Slayer. Did she have the need, the drive that told her that being the Slayer was what she was here to do? It was the fire within that made the Slayer unique. And to become a successful Slayer, she needed a Watcher who could help her bring out this spirit, could help her learn to control it and use it to her advantage.

He was very fortunate to have Buffy as his Slayer.

Under his watch, she had blossomed and matured, both as a person and a Slayer. She had come so far since their first day together when, angry and bitter, she had declared that she was retiring as the Slayer. They were going through a bad spot, right now, but they'd get through it together. Despite their differences in age, background, and temperament, Buffy and he made a good team.

How does it feel to fail, Watcher?

He didn't know. With Buffy's help, perhaps he never would.

back to Part 1

Page created August 1998. Original material © Betsy Vera (bentley@umich.edu). Page background source: Jay Boersma. This website is for information and entertainment purposes only and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by others.