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Chapter 4
“So let me get this straight,” Buffy ventured. “Active Watchers are given a stipend to pay for living expenses.” Spike watched Buffy’s face flame, “Yet Slayers are not paid, not even health insurance?”

“It’s not all that much, Buffy.”

“Giles, just answer the question,” Buffy warned. Her voice was cold and demanding. Anger shot through her body and out her eyes as Giles explained the Watcher’s job specifications and pay.

“Correct.” Giles stared directly into Buffy’s eyes. The years when he hadn’t worked for the Council were not terribly difficult; the Council really didn’t pay all that much in the first place. “Most Slayers are under the care of their guardians, and when health insurance became a common occurrence the Council decided that Slayers did not need it because they had Slayer healing.”

“Not to mention that one dies another is activated, mate.” Spike smirked. Giles nodded slightly, validating Spike’s view. Giles didn’t want to impress that to Buffy, though. The Council, specifically Quentin Travers, did see the Slayers as expendable.

“In the 1970s they did a survey, the conclusion was that it was more expensive to keep the current Slayer alive than to train the next one.” Spike’s eyes flare golden, all too aware how close Buffy had been part of the statistic, that she was part of that statistic twice. Giles tried not to make eye contact with Buffy; he was ashamed that he was part of the research team that came up with that recommendation. Being a young, inexperienced watcher his main purpose in the Council was to research. Idealistic and worried about the financial base of the Council, young Rupert Giles didn’t take in consideration that Slayers were real people with real lives. The recommendation purported was based strictly on financial dealing, not human morals. Since he had met Buffy, since he had come to love her like his own, he had carried that guilt around with him. The “gifts” he gave Buffy after Joyce died had been fueled by it, but Giles had never indicated to Buffy that he felt guilty for being part of the reason she was in financial straits.

“That doesn’t account for the lack of pay, Giles. You know what I went through when my mom passed away. Dawn, the house, everything!” Buffy noticed the missing eye contact, but didn’t want to read into it too much. Giles had helped her out, paying for repairs to the house and helping her live on a budget.

Giles sighed and took his glasses off. He methodically wiped them down with his handkerchief, still avoiding Buffy’s stare. Before he put them back on he looked at her and said quietly, “Most Slayers don’t live long enough to support a family.”

The implications of the statement weighted heavily in the air. Most slayers died long before their eighteenth birthday. Died during their first year as a Slayer. The war beat the humanity out of those who did survive, isolating the girl from family and friends. The mission outweighed anything else. But that’s not how Buffy survived. The friends and family that surrounded her kept her alive. Buffy sat looking at Giles very carefully. Just as quiet and calmly as Giles spoke, she returned with, “Well, maybe if they paid for health insurance and living expenses they would.”

“Probably, Buffy.” Giles looked over at Spike, he was sitting across the library table from Buffy. His duster draped over his arms and down to the floor. Spike’s pale skin appeared even paler after the discussion of a Slayer’s lifespan. Not only was he responsible for two of the shortened lives, he was now battling for a third. His protective demeanor towards Buffy was overwhelming at times. The bond between the two, the claim he placed on her, went further beyond anything Giles had ever read about. Sharing thoughts and feelings willingly with each other was amazing. The bond scared Giles to his core. If Spike would ever go back to killing people for fun, or even food, it would destroy Buffy. It would rip out the rest of her heart, leaving only a shell, and Giles was afraid she would follow Spike down the road. Trying to break out of his thoughts, Giles shook his head. He could not let Buffy know he felt this way, that he thought she wasn’t strong enough to resist Spike’s pull if he chose to go back.

“So we have to fix that.” Buffy stated, effectively interrupting Giles’ thoughts. He looked over at Buffy, surprised at how strong her voice was. “What? It’s not fair that I’m the only Slayer to make it past 24 and head to my 30s.” Buffy gasped and looked at Spike, sticking out her tongue. “Stop it, horn devil.”

Giles rolled his eyes, not wanting to know what Spike was up to. Spike arched his eyebrow and wiggled his tongue between his thick lips towards Buffy. Exasperated, he sighed, “Yes, please stop it. We have work to do.”

“Don’t know what kind of work you think you have, sounds like my lady just said insure the newbies, pay them a living wage, and keep them alive longer. Doesn’t seem so hard.” Spike flicked his boots over the arms of the chair.

“Well, yes, as you stated so eloquently, but we need to do it in the confines of the Council’s budget.”

“Sod the budget, Watcher. Tell the rat bastard Travers to do it if he wants to keep his job. Or, better yet,” Spike smirked, “let me do it.”

“I think it would be better coming from me, Slayer of Slayers.” Giles looked pointedly at Spike, “Kind of strange that the killer of two Slayers would order the measures to keep Slayers alive longer. Don’t think it would be adhered to if it came from you”

“Yeah, well,” Spike propped his feet up on the table, “Got myself a new mission, mate.” Giles stared at Spike’s dirty boots next to an irreplaceable volume of demonology.

Buffy giggled, Spike could be so silly sometimes, “Put your feet down, Spike. You’re getting all the dusty books more dusty and Giles’ is about to have a heart attack.” Spike pouted, but did as Buffy requested. Buffy stood up and started out the door as she said, “So, I’m not a numbers girl, you can do the budget thingy, right?” Spike followed quickly, anxious to continue what they started earlier.

They exited without looking back; if they did they would have seen the gleam of Ripper in Giles’ eyes. “Sure, Buffy. No numbers involved with running a night club.” Giles sighed and sat down to work on the budget.

~*~*~
Spike listened to Buffy’s breathing calm down. Her heartbeat, still erratic and fast, pounded against his chest. These were the moments where he felt almost alive, her heart beating against his still one, transferring the beats to him. His body hummed with exertion and pleasure. He felt her sigh on top of him, legs still pressed tightly against his thighs, locking their bodies together. Spike felt her slick, hot body begin to cool so he threw the comforter over her. Nuzzling her nose against Spike’s chest, she sighed in contentment again. “Sleep, kitten.”

“Mmmm, Spike. I love you.” Buffy whispered before sleep claimed her. Lying underneath Buffy, being intimate with her, was heaven for Spike. Her strength and passion flowed through their bond, leaving her utterly vulnerable to him, trusting him to touch the deepest recesses of her mind. Trusted him with the secrets she didn’t even know she contained. Spike inhaled their combined scents, pure ecstasy, more potent than any drug. Slowly, he drifted off to meet Buffy in his dreams.

~*~*~

Giles was busy researching the Council’s budget. In the protocol paperwork, he revealed that Watchers were supposed to take care of their Slayer charges with the meager allowances the Council gave them. Virtual guardians of the protector of the world expected to support a teenage girl on a wage barely livable for one. Interesting, Giles though as he cleaned his glasses, he had never heard of that protocol. When he was sent to Sunnydale, he was instructed not to remove Buffy from her family by the decree of Quentin Travers, head of the Watcher’s Council. Giles didn’t think much of the decree; once meeting Buffy he realized that he wouldn’t want to take in a spoiled brat like that. Her mother seemed to be able to handle most of her human needs, leaving Giles to take care of the Slayer duties. Giles continued to read the different protocols.
~*~*~

“The termination of the Slayer brings about the birth of a new Chosen One from the vast pool of Potentials. Finding the most viable potential vessel, the Slayer uses the magicks infused within the spirit.”

“Geeze Giles, get anymore impersonal? Termination of the Slayer? Potential vessel?” Buffy interrupted Giles’s reading of the book. Yellowed pages, almost brown with age, crinkled under the weight of Giles’ breaths. When she received a glare from the older Watcher, she shrugged, “Go on.”

“The alignment of Mars and Jupiter over the moon creates the temporal disturbance throughout the universe, leaving a trail to the best-fit vessel. Aged young, no more than seventeen earth years, the potential vessel is assessed emotionally. This brings the menstrual cycle early, creating the infrastructure of demonic tracking using hormonal imbalances within the new body. High emotions facilitate the process without any dire repercussions.”

“So it’s the Slayer’s fault that I had my period for two weeks in a row? Oh, I’m so going to kick her primitive ass next time I meet her.” Spike smirked over at Buffy. He sat, once again, opposite from her, watching her take in the new information about Slayers. Giles had tracked them down, sparing in the gym, when he found the history of the Slayer in the ancient book translated from a North African ancient language referred to as Berber. The symbols, primitive hieroglyphics, lines and circles dotting the cloth they used. Buffy, excited that she finally was going to learn of her history, the Slayer’s history, quickly followed Giles into the library once again.

Giles continued as if Buffy hadn’t uttered a word.

“The power of the Slayer transfers over to the vessel of the Potential, infusing the new Chosen One with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires. Balancing the scales once more, the new Slayer is assigned to a trainer to teach the art of combat.”

“Ah ha! The Watchers come in. You’re supposed to be a trainer.” Buffy rolled her eyes when Giles looked at her, his eyes gray as steel, silencing her once more.

“The Slayer, hardened by the daily battles, strengthens as the vessel ages, creating a virtually unstoppable force against the spread of demonic evil, potentially eradicating the demonic presence from this reality.”

Giles stopped reading and looked up, finished with the passage.

“What that’s it? That’s the whole ‘this is how a Slayer is made?’ That was lame.” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair, disappointed that the book didn’t hold more information.

“That’s all I have translated so far. It does shed some light on how a one is chosen.”

“Ha! Shed some light! The moon, the stars, the great beyond. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Buffy…” Giles chided.

“I’m sorry Giles, it’s not fair, I know. But did you hear what you were saying?” Giles stood, nodding, while Buffy talked. “It’s a virtual crap shoot on who is chosen to be the next Slayer. Moon alignment and hormones? That seems awfully flimsy.”

“I know, but that’s what is in the book. Maybe I can translate more and get a better idea.”

“I think we need to ask Quentin why this book was never translated in the first place. I never understood the Slayer, why I was chosen, etcetera. Kendra grew up knowing she had the potential to have this destiny. I never had that. One minute I am stilling on the steps of school, waiting for a boy and the next thing I’m staking a guy in the cemetery. No handbook, no explanation, just a stake and the speech about being chosen.” Buffy was so angry, she was almost shaking. Spike could feel the frustration pouting out of her. “It would have been nice to know about this. Remember right before the battle with Glory… I thought I was loosing my ability to love, to care. I was. That was the Slayer doing it to me. Strengthening herself for the battle, but I didn’t know that.” Taking a calming breath, she continued. “And, you know… the virtual unstoppable force… you know what I mean… be nice to know that a couple years ago.” Spike looked confused and sent her a silent question, only to have it returned unanswered. The spies and bugs in the building were listening, leaving Buffy biting her tongue before it slipped out. “Why was the Council hiding this?”

“I don’t know,” was Giles only answer. The fact that Buffy turned into the virtual unstoppable force weighed heavily on Giles. Her instincts steadily grew within the past couple years, leaving her skills and strength unmatchable, even in demonic terms.
~*~*~

They had to get out of the oppressive building, fleeing from the prison that was created for them. Ears and eyes, on the look out for anything that could be used against them, pried deeply into their subconscious. New revelations of Buffy’s increased abilities. Her internal demonic radar’s power increase amazed Spike. She never let on about her strength or the fact she could sense him all those times he would be at her hotel after their fight. They strolled along the edge of the closest cemetery, quietly discussing the new information. Their thought and emotions were broken by the sound of a struggle behind a brownstone. Swiftly running into action, Spike and Buffy rounded the corner to see two humans, a man and woman, surrounded by seven large, brown demons. Spike moved first, throwing the closest brown demon away from the main group. The muscular arms reached out for Spike, barely missing him. Spike looked around, spying a jagged piece of metal. He picked up the piece, hitting the blob like head, breaking a few bones in its structure. The demon, not stopped by having his skull broken, charged Spike, pushing him into the brick wall. Regaining his footing, Spike threw a punch towards the torso, hitting the slimy, squishy, brown flesh. Still holding the piece of metal, he lifted it up to impale the demon.

Standing over the dead demon’s body, Spike wiped his hands off and turned around, ready to help Buffy only to find the other demons lying on the ground, unmoving. Buffy was staring at the two people they just saved. The woman, athletic and tall, stood up. Her face littered with scars and wounds, leaving a once beautiful woman not as attractive as she was remembered. The large man, hidden in the shadows from Spike, stepped out. “Riley?”





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