Fic: RFJ 0: Before You 6/6

[beccaelizabeth]

Ripper
Fools Journey
0
Before You

Part: 6/6

Rating: I'm aiming for a tone much like Buffy or Angel, which are 15 to 18 rated in the UK.
Pairing(s): None. Yet.
Spoilers: Post Chosen, post Not Fade Away. Deals with the fallout.

Summary: Rupert Giles, Head of the Watchers Council, and ghosts.

Disclaimer: Joss told us to "Write fan fic."
So they're still his toys, but he seems to not mind us playing with them.
No money, no harm.

Thanks to pinkdormouse for beta.

Author's notes and warnings:
Once upon a time, there was to be a series called Ripper.
It would star Giles, and it would be about ghosts.
Well, I'm still waiting.
In the meantime, I figured I'd write it myself.
Since ghosts are a central feature, character death is going to happen throughout the series. But that doesn't always remove them from the story. So sometimes the warning is character death, and sometimes it is more character transformation.

This episode is 0 because it is the setup, a transitional episode getting all the characters in the right place. Also because I used Tarot cards as inspiration for the 22 episodes, hence 'Fools Journey', and the Fool is card 0.

Part One here
Part Two here
Part Three here
Part Four here
Part Five here

completed, 30890 words

*** *** ***





“No!” Fiona screamed.

The glass kept falling, crashing, tinkling, a spray of bouncing shards glittering around the falling Slayer. It almost hid the sounds her body made when it hit the ground. Almost. Giles knew that sound from nightmares.

Even for a Slayer, some falls are too far.

Fiona ran forwards. “Oh, God! Oh, no, Vi, please...”

Giles still looked up. He could still see her, falling, the light around her bright against the rising shadows.

Fiona dropped to her knees beside the Slayer.

Giles could see her head. What was left of it. Lying in a pool of blood.

Red blood. Red hair. A girl he knew, but not that girl. Giles snapped out of it.

He moved forwards, and Fiona noticed him again.

“Mr Giles, call an ambulance!”

He bent to check for a pulse. Nothing.

Her blood on his hand was still warm.

Fiona reached for Vi and started pulling at the shards sticking out of her. “We have to stop the blood... Giles, there's so much blood...” she sobbed.

“Fiona... Slayer, stop. Leave the glass,” Giles tried to tell her. “Don't... don't touch, you'll only get hurt.” She still tugged at pieces, so Giles tried to take hold of her hands. She pushed him away, Slayer strength shrugging him off with no effort, but then she stopped. Slumped. Leaned on him. And started crying in earnest.

She raised a hand to wipe her face, but Giles stopped her. “Is any of that yours?” he asked, as gently as he could.

Fiona looked at her hands as if not quite sure what they were, then blinked, grimaced, and rubbed them on her jeans to get clean. Then she realised what she was kneeling in and leapt up, knocking Giles off balance. He had to step away to save himself. When he tried to touch the Slayer again she turned her back.

She went through her pockets, and came out with a stake.

“What are you doing?” Giles asked.

“My job. I'm a Slayer. Something up there killed her, and I'm going to slay it,” she said. The fierceness of the statement was only slightly undermined by her sniffing.

“Fiona, whatever it was, it killed her. And she was just as strong as you. Wait for the others.”

“I won't be late again! That thing is up there!” She pointed up and turned to look, then stopped dead. “Oh my God, Vi!”

Giles turned to look too.

And cursed himself for a fool.

Vi was still up there, falling.

Fiona could see her too.

“Mr Giles... What... What's happening to her? Is she really... I mean is that the real her or...”

Giles shook his head and tried to think it through. “This is her body, I'm afraid. She is dead. So that...” He'd thought it was a flashback. Call himself a Watcher? He had no business being out here. Too emotional, too involved. Always too involved. “If the First is involved...”

“It can look like dead people. It can look like Vi now.” Fiona gulped, then said, “Bastard! Trying to scare us off? Then something is going on in there. Bringers. We have to stop them.”

Giles pulled his phone out and flipped it open. No signal. No way of knowing how long they had. He swapped the phone for the knife and tried to think. Something wasn't right here.

“The First knows Slayers don't scare easily. The First knows me. It wouldn't do this to keep me away.” He looked up again and muttered, “Whatever it did to me, it never managed that.”

“It might know you would think that, Mr Giles. If they're opening something in there, we have to hurry.”

Above them Vi started falling again.

“Wait,” Giles told her, “wait and think.” From here it didn't look like Buffy. She had jumped, face first. Vi was facing away from them. So, she didn't jump. “The, ah, trajectory...” They could still see it above them, Vi arching away from the window. Quite a long way away. “Bringers couldn't do this. Perhaps... perhaps another Caleb.” He tightened his grip on his knife.

That gave Fiona pause. “The Scythe is still with Buffy, right? In Rome.” She twisted her stake nervously.

Vi started falling again.

“This just isn't like the First,” Giles muttered. “No taunting, just... just this one moment... as if she is stuck in it...” Stuck in the past... Or blinded by it. If they had never met the First, what would this all sound like? He straightened up and said to Fiona, “This is the classic pattern for an ordinary ghost. Strong personality, traumatic circumstances...”

“So that really is Vi?” Now Fiona was confused. “What's happened to her?”

“Let's find out shall we?” Giles tried to be confident. He knew a little about ghosts. So, start with the basics. “Viola DePaulis! I summon thee!” He paused, waiting. No effect. Still that slow repeat, falling, falling. “I summon you, Vi!” Nothing. “Slayer Vi, report!”

“Oh, you know, the usual.”

Giles blinked, and there stood the late Slayer, bloodied but shining.

Fiona said to her, “Vi, you can't just say that. You're... dead.”

Vi shrugged. “I'm a Slayer. Dead is usual. You've seen the walls.”

Giles winced, and had to swallow hard before he could keep going. “Yes... well. I had hoped for a little more detail.”

Vi turned away, walked over to her body, talking as she went. “Went out, staked a ghost, saved... not even me, I guess. This is pretty creepy.” She stared at what was left of herself, then turned with a shudder. “Giles, one favour? Just make it a closed casket funeral. Really, no amount of makeup is going to make that look good.”

“What-whatever you want, of course,” Giles stuttered. “Ah, a ghost? You, staked..?”

“Yeah. Not my brightest idea.” Vi shrugged again. Then she smiled, reached into a pocket and pulled out a stake. It glowed just like the rest of her. “I guess I might have better luck now.” She started forwards, towards the brewery.

Giles interrupted, hoping she wouldn't just start the loop earlier. “Vi, a moment, please. We need to know – other Slayers are on their way. What will they be dealing with.”

Vi looked doubtful, until Fiona spoke up. “If you go in there again, I'm going with you. Tell me what we'll be fighting.”

Vi stopped, put her hands back in her pockets again. Bit her lip, then said, “Okay. Need to know. Right. Well, I left some things out of my other report. In court today. I didn't mention what happened after. I was... well, I've been...”

“Haunted?” Giles asked.

“Yeah. I guess. I thought... well I thought maybe it was just me. I kept getting nightmares. About the man... that I killed. He looked so... ordinary, lying there. Like Andrew in one of his stupid cloaks. Of course Andrew sacrificed someone too. But we didn't kill him for it, so... I don't know. Everyone was saying I did right, but I didn't feel right.”

Giles nodded. He understood.

“So then the nightmares... they didn't end when I woke up. It started small. I'd wake up and put the light on, and I'd see him in the doorway. And then he'd be gone by the time I got there. But it got worse. I was seeing him everywhere. But today, with the trial, I thought it had stopped. I didn't see him all day. Until we got to the pub. I saw him there. And then I realised, HQ, it has wards. Stuff can't get in. So that meant it wasn't just me.”

A bit of a leap, but he could understand her wanting that to be so. “You decided it was the First?”

She nodded. “Trying to make me do something dumb. So I...” She looked around, saw her remains again. “Um, did something pretty dumb. Okay, that made more sense before I died.”

“You were very tired. That can effect anyone's judgement. You came looking for Bringers?”

“Like the guy in the hood. Like I thought he was anyway. I don't know, it got confusing. Anyway, I got here, I went inside, and there he was. The guy. Dead guy in a cloak. So I've got my stake, and he steps forwards, and I stake him. I mean, he could have been a vampire. You have to be sure. But the stake goes straight through. And he grins, and he's all 'Doesn't work so well now, huh?' But I'm ignoring him. I figure that's the First, and the Bringers have to be around there somewhere. He's talking big, lots of threats, so I just tell him he's incorporeal, he can't touch me. So he says, 'Is that right?' And the next thing I know, bam, he knocks me right across the room.” She looked up at the window again and winced. “I guess you saw the rest.”

“Yes.” Giles moved on hurriedly. “You've been seeing him all week, but he only hit you here? Perhaps his power is limited. It's very common for a ghost to have some geographic boundary, to be tied to the place he died.”

A male voice behind him said, “Wrong again.”

Giles turned and brought his knife up, but Fiona shoved him out of the way. She stepped in front of the Watcher and staked the new arrival in one practiced move.

It went straight through, of course.

He grinned, and idly shoved her.

She went flying. Straight into Giles. He fell and hit his head on the concrete, hard, too busy keeping his knife away from the Slayer, unable to break his fall. The blade skittered away and the Slayer landed square on top of him, knocking his air out.

The black cloaked figure stepped into view and looked down at them.

“You people and your theories. It's like you know so much you don't know anything. You don't know me. What I am. What I can do to you.” He raised a foot, ready to kick.

“I know what I'm going to do to you,” Vi yelled, then appeared beside him, stake out. The robed one had barely started to turn before she plunged the stake in.

He stumbled, then looked down. “Huh. I actually felt that.” He looked up again at Vi, pulled the stake out and backhanded her in the face.

She fell across her own body, lying there in a tangle of limbs.

The dead man came to stand over her.

“Newsflash! Young genius works spell, becomes untouchable! Nothing is ever going to harm me again.”

“That was what the spell was for? And here we were worried.” Vi pulled herself up again and took a fighting stance, then started circling around him. “Newsflash yourself, idiot, you're dead! Kind of as harmed as you can get.”

“Exactly! No more worries. I've got to thank you, you finished the spell nicely.” He didn't bother to raise his fists, but he did turn to keep her in view.

“Excuse me? I stopped it!” Vi objected hotly.

“Blood on your hands, use the knife on me? Finished it. It was great. Virtually painless.”

“So you throw me out a window? Some gratitude,” Vi grumbled.

Giles, meanwhile, had managed to prop himself up on one elbow.

Fiona rolled off him and shook her head to clear it. She stood up, looked over at the fight, then down at Giles. “Vi will keep him busy. I'll get you out of here.”

“No,” Giles told her, sitting up with some effort. “Not away. Inside. We have to get... up...” he was having a little trouble with that part.

Fiona got an arm around him and lifted, then set him on his feet.

“Thanks,” Giles said, a little breathless. He was dizzy and queasy. His head hurt, and he couldn't quite focus properly. He reached up to clean his glasses and found out why – they were gone. Probably joining the rest of the broken glass.

No time to look now.

“We have to get inside, check the building. The police must have missed something. If this is a spell... we should be able to break it,” Giles told the Slayer. He told himself the same. They had to at least try.

Behind them the young mage and the Slayer had escalated to trading blows.

“Give it up! You can't hurt me!”

“Me either. I'm dead too, remember? Guess your stupid spell wasn't even needed.”

Giles reached the door, and lost track of the fight while they negotiated the stairs.

Upstairs, he found the window, gaping open.

Below them the fight continued.

“Not doing so well without your muscles, are you?” Black Robe sneered. “Hardly know one end of that stick from the other. Without your strength you're just another little girl.”

“When I was a little girl, I learned this 'stick' and a bunch of other weapons,” Vi told him, jumping out of his way. “I killed a vampire before I got that strength! We'll see how well I can do!”

But for all her big words, hitting him didn't seem to be doing a thing.

On the plus side, hitting her was fairly ineffectual too.

Giles turned and started to search the room, looking for traces of the sacrifice.

He thought back to the policeman's testimony.

“There was a symbol here. Made of blood. The police cleared it off, and Watcher Hornbeck would have known to deal with any remaining magic... But he missed something.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that bastard's still here. Show me where, exactly, the body was.”

“Which one? The victim, or...?”

“Both, if you know. Hurry.”

Fiona supported him and pulled him forward. She stopped somewhere in the middle and looked around.

“Here, I think... Yeah. Right here. I remember those pipes.”

Giles closed his eyes and tried to focus. He hadn't done much magic recently, but the basic senses remained. Of course without having paid attention to them lately he couldn't always be sure what they were telling him.

He opened his eyes and looked again. “Nothing. Clean. Alright, the other place. Where he was killed.”

“I don't know that exactly, but Vi came out of here.” Fiona pointed, and took Giles there again.

He leaned against the door frame and felt rather sick.

That could just be his head, but if it wasn't... “Look in here, thoroughly. Every corner. We're looking for... for something that doesn't fit.”

“Something magic. Like Mrs Rafferty's things. Only nasty. I remember what it felt like,” Fiona agreed, and moved off.

Her eyes worked much better than his, especially in the ever decreasing light. He just hoped his brain was more use.

There was a clatter.

“What was that?” Giles asked.

“Nothing much. Old tiles, I think.”

“Tiles? Clay tiles?”

“No, slate.”

“You mean black stone,” Giles said. “Find it! Some black gemstones are used for trapping spirits.”

Fiona looked at him, then turned and crouched on the floor, searching in the corner. “Got it!” she told him, then hurried over. She held it up where he could see but kept it out of his reach. “It feels... kind of like sick smells,” she said. “You already look a bit...”

“Quite. Thank you.” Giles peered at it. There were symbols there, but he couldn't make them out. “Let's get this into the light.”

That meant going back to the window. Only the highest parts were lit now. Fiona went first with the flat stone, and Giles followed her, trying to persuade himself the floor wasn't moving.

She stood in the window and peered at the stone. “It looks like... I don't know. It looks nasty. But symbols. Magic, definitely. This is the spell, Giles.” She turned to him and grinned. “So now we break it.”

She turned back to face the window, looked down at the fall.

“Wait!” Giles yelled, realising how a Slayer would think. She had pulled back her arm, the tablet in hand. He moved forwards to grab her, then had to grab the wall instead.

Fiona threw the tablet over the edge.

It arced up, briefly in the sunlight, looking like a hole in the sky. Then it fell. Down. Towards Vi and the robed man, still fighting futilely.

Until it hit the ground between them, and shattered.

Then so did they.

For just a moment it looked like they were painted on glass, and the stone going through had broken them. They burned bright and vivid for a moment, then just faded to black. Gone.

“Vi?” Fiona asked, in a very small voice.

Giles closed his eyes, rested his head against the wall.

“Vi?” Fiona called again, louder. No answer.

“Mr Giles... That was right, wasn't it? Did we... do right?”

Giles pulled himself together, stood up straight, prepared himself to lie.

“We did... alright.”

The funeral was very well attended. Vi's Watcher, her Slayer partner, her friends. Almost everyone who had survived Sunnydale with her was there. In fact the only one not there was Vi. The casket was closed, as per her request. The readings were standard. And despite the occupation of the vast majority of those in attendance, at no point was the word Slayer used.

The more meaningful part of the ceremony waited back at Headquarters.

In the Memorial Hall, only two candles burned. Tall glass candles on each corner, the kind that burned for days. A third, smaller candle of the same type waited in the middle, unlit. The rest of the table was empty, though boxes of candles were open underneath it.

Giles stood in front of the table facing out, and waited.

The Hall filled up to capacity. It was never meant for meetings, just a place for passing through. Those who knew Vi best had a place, and the rest lined up outside.

Giles spoke, simple words written for him, carefully memorised.

“We gather here to remember. We should never forget. Slayer Vi, Viola DePaulis, fought to defend life and defeat evil. She lost her own life in the process, but her soul...” Despite his best efforts, he stuttered here. “Her soul has gone on to her reward.” It was true. Even if that reward was oblivion, it was true. He swallowed hard, turned to face the wall.

A strip of cloth was drawn away, and the name was revealed.

Viola DePaulis. Name and date. I'm a Slayer. Dead is usual. You've seen the walls.

Vi's voice echoing in his mind, Giles froze, staring.

For a long, long moment, the ceremony froze with him.

Then Watcher Rafferty stepped up, took the taper set out for the purpose, and lit the new candle from one of the old. She bowed her head a moment, then handed the light to Fiona. The young Slayer took a candle from the box, lit it, placed it close to that central light. Then the two moved on, and the rest started filing through.

Giles stood still in the middle of it all, watching.

Mourners lit their candles then passed on to the reception up in the largest meeting room. Someone had found it was still booked for use for Vi's hearing, so it was empty. Giles was meant to be there now.

He stood still, the others flowing around him.

Watchers gave him strange looks and muttered as they walked off.

Slayers, oddly, looked at him with respect.

Finally, almost everyone was gone. Two Slayers still remained, one on either side of him. They looked at him, but he didn't look back. They looked at each other, exchanged some understanding. The dark haired one moved off then, took a candle from her pocket, lit it, put it in the next to last place.

The blonde took Giles by the arm.

He looked down for the first time.

She was holding out a candle.

Giles took it from her hand, slowly. Slowly walked up to the table. So many, burning bright against the dark wood table. Finally, he added to them.

“Come on Giles,” Buffy said. “We need to talk.”

Once they reached his office, Giles went automatically to sit behind his desk. But then he stopped. It didn't seem right. The desk had become a barricade of paperwork, files and folders and random sheets stacked all over it. The desk chair wasn't comfortable anyway.

Buffy turned two chairs to face each other, sat down in one. “Here Giles. Have a seat. All that standing, even I am tired. You realise, everyone thinks that's part of the ceremony now. You'll have to do it again next time.”

“Next time,” Giles said. “Next time... I was thinking, someone else will have to stand there.”

“Delegate? I guess. Might not seem very fair.”

“No.” Giles turned around, stepped away from the desk. “No, that wasn't quite what I meant.” He looked at Buffy.

She looked at him. “Oh.”

Giles nodded. He took the seat across from her. “Yes. Oh.”

“So... are we talking holiday? Rome's nice,” Buffy said.

“No, not a holiday. Buffy... I don't think I'm the right man for this job.” He looked away. He'd said it. Out loud, finally. But he'd said it to Buffy, the last one in the world he ever wanted to disappoint.

He closed his eyes and waited for her to chastise him.

“Don't be dumb, Giles.”

Like that.

“You're the perfect man for the job. You're, like, the uber-Watcher. You're great for this job.”

Oh. No, not quite like that.

“Buffy... Your confidence in me is humbling. But I'm afraid that's just not so.” He looked at her and tried to explain. “I did an adequate job as your Watcher.”

“You did a great job!”

“You died. Twice.”

“But the world didn't end. Not even once.”

“Buffy... Fine. You believe I was a great Watcher. Alright.” He tried another tactic. “There is a saying that a man will be promoted to the level of his incompetence. Usually used as an insult about managers. But it means something very simple. Whenever a man proves himself to be good enough at one job, he is given another, usually quite different one, until he gets to one where he fails. As I have failed here.”

“Giles, you haven't failed. One Slayer died. One we knew. That makes it harder. But it wasn't your fault. You weren't her Watcher.”

“But I tried to be. I tried to... to fall back on old habits, to do the job I knew.” He shook his head. “I should have called her Watcher immediately. She would have far more knowledge of her Slayer and her situation than I did. She was closer, she knew the area. I keep telling people I have full confidence in my people in the field. And I do. But when I had a chance to be there myself I took it without thinking.”

“You were right there, she was right there – of course you were going to help.”

“Yes. Of course I headed off into unknown danger with a girl I'd only met once. To help. Buffy, I don't regret risking my life for this cause, but I very much regret risking lives stupidly. As Head of the Council I have teams of people for any task I can think of. I have resources, I have protocols, plans that should, if I have done my job, cover every possible contingency. I used none of them. I followed none of them. I just... charged in, hoping I could help. And I failed.”

“Giles, it wasn't your fault. Vi got herself into trouble. She lied, she tried to handle it alone, and that got her killed. I'm sorry, and I'm sad for her, but that's the truth. It wasn't your fault.”

“The committee I set up to deal with the repercussions of Vi's actions – to decide what should happen to Vi – they had procedures to follow. There was evidence yet to be presented. Examinations. Several people were worried about Vi's mental state, in both the short and long term. But the committee didn't get to hear that evidence. Because I stepped in and told them to get on with it.”

“Faith was on that committee, Giles. Are you telling me you overruled her? Because if so, I'd really like to know how. She always just ignores me,” Buffy said. Then she told him, “Faith thought Vi was fine. Not good, not happy maybe, but okay. Faith read the reports, and she was paying attention. If she thought Vi needed something – time out, more supervision, whatever – you know she would have made sure she would get it.”

“As far as I can tell Faith decided Vi needed a night at the pub. That... didn't end well.” Giles sighed. “Buffy, all else aside, if I had left it alone she wouldn't even have been there that night.”

“So she'd have gone back some other night, and you wouldn't have been there. Maybe Fiona would. Maybe they'd both go out the window. If you start playing maybe you can't stop. What happened... what happened was tragic. But I say again, it was not your fault. I'll say it as many times as it takes to sink in.”

“And I'm afraid I'll have to keep telling you you're wrong. Buffy... Please understand. If I was Vi's Watcher, my failure would still be... wretched. But. I am talking about my actions as the Head of the Watchers Council. And in that role my failure was total.”

“I don't see it.” Buffy shook her head.

“From the beginning... From the first time I heard about the situation, the murders, I failed to give them their proper priority. I thought I needed to concentrate on Watchers and Slayers and... and the interminable politics of this office. But the sole purpose of the Council is to prevent exactly the sort of supernatural occurrence that the police Watchers believed this to be.”

“Giles, we're Vampire Slayers. We deal with an apocalypse here and there, sure, but not serial killings. The guy was a human. We can't do much about humans except call the police. Remember, we even had to let that Rayne guy go the first couple of times, before Riley took him. And we had to keep Andrew tied to a chair. There just aren't enough chairs in the building for all the murderers in the world.”

“No, but a ritual sacrifice – a magical ritual – one that might summon any number of things... All I did about it was listen to their reports and tell them to keep up the good work. And after the last murder, not even that. I went chasing off after an accounting error instead.”

“Would that be the one that turned out to be Wesley? Back from the dead Wesley? Who we don't want more Watchers to know about? That was the right thing to do, Giles.”

“Was it? I still can't be sure. If I'd have sent Faith and Willow in first, would the outcome have been any different? I'd have heard about the fourth murder scene – the one where the police Watcher became certain there was magic involved. The one that made enough of a pattern they knew where he would strike next. We had only two Slayers in the area, quite by coincidence. We could have had a hundred, and all their Watchers. That would have been the end of it right there.”

“And having a hundred teenage girls and thirty tweed types wandering around wouldn't have put the guy off trying?”

“Which would still have saved a life. Several lives,” Giles said. “Buffy, I'm trying to explain... The Head of the Council has, in some ways, enormous power. And I... I just don't know how to use it.” He gestured helplessly. Looked away from Buffy, saw the desk. “You see all this? Reports. All I do all day, take meetings and read reports.” He got up and looked over the stacks. “This one, all the data we have about Wyndam-Pryce. Probably both of them. I've barely looked at it. It didn't seem urgent.”

“There's nothing wrong with Wesley, and nothing wrong with Wesley's dad that's new or likely to change.” Buffy shrugged. “Seems like you can leave that for later.”

“This lot is all about Vi,” Giles said, hand hovering over a slightly smaller pile. “I've... I've dealt with as much as I could. As I could bring myself to. Funeral arrangements, that service down in the hall – everything sets a precedent. I had to approve it all. Down to the budget for the snacks.” He reached over and picked up a single folder, sitting on its own. “And that was probably why I forgot about this.” He turned around to face Buffy. “Last week, the Far East office sent an urgent query. They had a situation where action and inaction could both be... well, earth shattering is probably not an exaggeration. I read the reports. And I couldn't decide what to do about them.” He paused. “So, I sent it back to research.”

“Early on today, Wesley pops in to my office with the final report.” He waved it for emphasis. “He says they sent the summary on Monday. I wasn't in the office all Monday. Can you imagine, if that report had said they needed to send Slayers in? There'd have been an apocalypse purely because I forgot about it. Because it wasn't even rare enough to... to make a mark, in the middle of everything else.” He threw the file down again viciously, then regretted it when it hit a stack and caused a chain reaction. Nothing actually left the desk, but the neat piles became a sea of stationery. He rubbed at his face, looked it over. Gave up and sat back down again. “I'm not competent to hold this office. I'm not qualified. I only ever got the job because everyone in line before me died.”

“What a way to be chosen,” Buffy said quietly. Giles looked up at her, but she was looking down. “You get handed the power, and everyone tells you that you're the one in all the world with what it takes. That everything depends on you. And it doesn't matter if you ever had other plans. If you wanted to be a buyer, or a grocer, or a pilot. Because you're the Chosen one.” Buffy paused.

Giles was feeling very foolish, to make that particular complaint to her. Foolish and selfish.

She looked up at him. “I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry?”

“I did that to Kendra. I did that to Faith. I didn't realise I did that to you,” Buffy said, her smile rueful. “I thought I'd fixed that.”

“Yes, well. Your solution became my, ah...” Giles trailed off, trying for a diplomatic way to say it.

“Biggest problem?” Buffy saved him the trouble. “I'm sorry, Giles. I knew it was big, but... I just left it to you. You were the man with the plan.”

“I had a plan. It didn't work out quite as I'd hoped. And I came to the end of it quite some time ago. Now I need to try something else.”

It took more words than that. It always did. But that was how it ended. Giles resigned.

His successor was chosen, first privately, by the senior Slayers, then officially, by the Council. Some much needed reorganisation and some careful politics gave him a lot more support from the start than Giles had ever had. He shadowed Giles in the job for weeks, but the time came to make the final handover.

With the contract between them, Giles had one final twinge of conscience.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “Taking on this much, after everything you've been through...”

“I'm sure,” Wesley replied. “And as you said from the start, getting back to work certainly keeps the mind occupied.” He smiled, then asked, “Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” Giles said. “I can't Watch when I can't see past my own ghosts.”

“Is that why you propose to study them?”

Giles laughed humourlessly. “That would be a reason to study psychology. No. What I need to understand is what happened to Vi afterwards.”

“It was quite unusual. Slayers very rarely become ghosts. Whatever spell was worked seems to have been the crucial factor.”

“And the breaking of that spell... may have been a crucial error,” Giles said.

“I have seen Fiona's report. She wrote that Vi faded away. She believes Vi no longer had unfinished business. Although she seems to have got the idea from Casper, it seems sound.”

Giles nodded. “I would very much like to believe that. But... but I don't think 'fade' is the right word. I saw them shatter.” He looked distant for a moment, then looked Wesley in the eye. “I saw her spirit shatter. I fear... I believe she may have been... destroyed.”

Wesley nodded acknowledgement of this, but contradicted him. “Souls are that part of a person that is eternal. What you think you saw – that can't have been the end of her.”

“I would very much like to believe that too,” Giles told him. “I know you do. But most of us don't get any revelations from our near death experiences. We just have to make do with what we can learn through observation, experience, and research.”

“So, you are going back to research.” Wesley nodded, understanding.

“Yes. Not just for Vi. Whatever happened to her, it seems unlikely we'll be able to help. But the other ghosts...” Giles became more animated, “Lately, the Council has been plagued with ghosts. Wards and Cleansings can't get rid of them. I'm not even sure that's the right approach. When we thought they were sent by the First, yes, of course, but if they are Watchers who are just... just without their bodies...”

“Then we shouldn't discriminate just because they're technically undead? I can see how that might work out. Spike was very... well, quite helpful, even before he recorporealised. But I doubt the Council will accept such a radical solution.”

“If the research supports it, they should,” Giles said optimistically. “And even ignoring that... The Council libraries are scattered, blown up or simply inadequate in this area. Ghosts have never been our field. We know so little about them. How and why some people become ghosts and others do not, how to deal with them, if we even should. And, of course, how to tell if an incident is the First or an ordinary haunting. I think we need some guidelines, some procedures. Some spells that actually work. And I know that in this at least I am actually competent. Even quite good.”

Wesley nodded. “I've read some of your papers. I'd heard of you as an expert in ancient artefacts before I heard of you as Buffy's Slayer.”

“Oh? You never mentioned.”

“Yes... well... I was trying to emphasise my strengths. Wasn't quite sure I could measure up,” Wesley said, with a rueful grin that suggested that hadn't changed.

Giles put a hand on his shoulder. “I do believe, in this capacity, you will do rather better. Or I wouldn't be handing it over.” He looked at Wesley for a moment, then nodded. Wesley solemnly nodded in return.

He bent to sign, for the last time ever as 'Head of the Watchers Council'. Rupert Giles.

He had the oddest urge to instead write 'Ripper'.

He left Headquarters quietly, slipping out the back way, up the Long Hall into ancient history, then out the arched window, onto the sunlit grass.

Comments

Re: A true ghost story

[beccaelizabeth]

I'm pretty sure the First would be annoyed at being just a red herring, so :)

accurately concussed Giles managed to warn about the glove and living flame in the ep with the fake Watcher, and that was a time there was blood and urgent worried medics. I think all the practice has left him good at keeping the essentials in mind ;)

Slayers know the writing is on the wall for them. Made it fairly literal.

So very glad the Buffy conversation worked. So many rewrites before she stopped sounding drugged up ::)

I'm glad everyone is believing it about Giles. I figure for him to be giving the Watchers his best he has to be doing what he is best at, which really isn't being the boss of people. He usually ends up with his subordinates taking over. Which is great in a teacher, but not so much in a corporate CEO or whatever the Head of the Council has to be.

Wes... will probably be quite miserable, at least to start, but he has relevant skills and experience that Giles lacks. And also a whole set of problems of his own, but that's the kind of fun that makes stories.

the rest of the 'season' may take a teensy bit longer than a season to make, but I'm glad you're looking forward to it.

thanks :)