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Author's Chapter Notes:
There is mention of The Vatican and Holy See in this chapter, but no disrespet in meant.
I am typing as fast as i can. please review
‘What do you mean, get?’ Asked Buffy, ‘cause I don’t kill humans.’

‘If we can kill him, it would be fantastic, and as for killing humans, how many true humans do you know that are over 650 years old and have been killing, and helping to kill, slayers for most of that time?’

Buffy started to say something again, but of all the people there it was Xander that stopped her.

‘I think this lady’s story is far from over, I think that all we have ever wanted to know is inside her head, so why don’t we all sit down, think about what we’ve been told so far, and listen to the next chapter… This week’s thrilling instalment of Slayers and their mates?’ Xander said with a maturity that surprised the old Scoobies, again.

‘You’ve always seen to the heart of the problem, so I’ll sit here, accept another brandy if I may, and await this lady’s pleasure.’ Giles added.

‘Thank you Giles. I know it must seem I am lecturing, but there is simply so much to tell you if you are going to choose wisely your next course. There are twelve Vampire/ slayer couples, spread all over the world; the three couples in this house when you arrived volunteered to be the ones to approach you. We have the most knowledge of previous causes to the situation in which we now find ourselves.

‘It is not just revenge I want, although that is in my heart, but after Quentin had killed Sophia, he put a spell on the slayers’ line, on all those who followed me, so that for every three years short of their twenty fifth birthday they died, he would receive a full year’s extra life. So he would send out demons and vampires to kill the slayer. He would ensure that their training wasn’t quite up to standard, he would separate the slayers off from their families and any possible support. He would train watchers to put the council first and, most of all, he cursed the slayers so that although the friends that were left and even their watcher would trust them with their very lives, they didn’t trust the slayer with the slayer’s own life. Whenever they got the chance they would second guess her, reject any that she thought of as a possible mate, betray her if the could. Slayers just gave up and started looking for death. Most of the problems Buffy has ever had with you, from altering her memories, to throwing her out of the house just before the battle with the First were down to that curse. And here is the interesting bit: WE chose Buffy. The Covenant have hidden the women of her line for over five hundred years.
Remember how surprised the Council were when Buffy was called? We had hidden her, her mother, and grandmother and so on back to the fifteenth century. Joyce could have been a slayer,’ Rosamund added.

Spike smiled, remembering the time when Joyce had hit him on the back of the head with an axe.

‘Why, why would you hide them? Asked Giles.

Willow looked shocked: all the things that had happened since she knew Buffy were due to outside influences. She grasped the idea that it hadn’t been her fault, then looked at Rachael. ‘Don’t, Sweetie; accept what has happened and what you have done. It’s your strength now, no one can take that from you, but don’t look for a scape- goat,’ her lover told her.

Giles started to clean his glasses, a sign he was thinking.
‘You’ve asked us not to trust the council we were raised with, but you ask us to trust you completely.’

‘No. I would never ask you just to trust. Unlike Travers and his ilk, we can prove all we say independently. Not just with our own files, but in this city there is a library that has been guarded for over 1000 years, and in that library there are books and letters that will confirm everything we’ve told you. You need to get into the Vatican and ask to see their collections of books.’ Charles told them.

‘How did you protect me?’ asked Buffy.

‘There were twin girls; we hid one of the births and raised her as our own, with us. When she grew up and married she started a new dynasty. That line was cared for, protected, and hidden. Occasionally one of the line would be noticed; then they conveniently ‘died’ in a vampire attack. Staged, of course. Given money and glamours to hide them, and started their lives all over again somewhere else. It was a well-orchestrated system that kept your line hidden for centuries.

‘We researched all we could. Finding out how Travers had corrupted the council, trying to open some of the watchers minds to what were really old ideas. Then came Rupert Giles, who dabbled in the darker magic and opened a path we could use. While he was still Ripper, we planted the seeds in his subconscious that would lead him to think of the Slayer as a girl with needs of her own. Radical thoughts for the council at the time.

‘We had two chances before Buffy to put the line right,’ she continued. ‘There were two girls who would have been powerful enough, strong enough both physically and mentally for what was needed. One in eighteenth century Ireland, a girl killed by Liam Angelus before he was turned, and a gypsy girl about a hundred years ago in Romania killed by Vampire Angelus after he was turned. Our dislike of your grandsire, Spike, is monumental. The only reason he didn’t kill Buffy before she was called was because of his curse. Whistler, by the way, works for us. He kept you safe,’ Rosamund concluded. She was beginning to shake, and looked pale and sweaty.

Matilda spoke up. ‘I think that’s enough for tonight: you’re tired, Rosamund, and don’t deny it. Why don’t you go up to rest and I will answer any questions our guests have before we say goodnight.’

‘Before you leave, who are you?’ Spike asked the Vampire who had stood behind Rosamund’s chair, comforting her the whole time.

‘Marcus Angelus,’ came the reply.

Spike started shaking, and quickly left his chair and went down on one knee before the Vampire, tilting his head to one side to offer his neck. Buffy, Giles, and the others looked in bemusement at Spike’s reaction. Marcus just smiled, gently touched Spike’s sire mark on his neck with his hand, and led Rosamund out of the room.

Buffy turned to her lover. ‘OK what was that about? All that kowtowing in front of the vampire.’

Spike looked a little uncomfortable and a little awed. ‘He’s like the ultimate sire, Grand Master of the Marcasian and Aurlian lines of Vampires: Master of Masters. He’s so far above me as to make me look like a fledgling. And he’s working for the white hats. And I’ve met him. He’s a legend: the vampire other vampires tell tales about. A bit like Red meeting Morgan le Fey or Xander meeting Superman.’

‘Oh I can see why you’re wigged then, but are you sure that’s him, and not someone using his name?’ Buffy asked.

‘It’s him OK, luv, the touch was a benediction, I felt the line right the way back through Angel, Darla, the Master, the whole way to him. It was amazing,’ the blond answered.

Matilda looked around the room. ‘Any questions so far? I know this is a lot for you all to take in, especially in one go, but we are here to help.’

‘How do I find the stuff in the Vatican’s library? After all, I can’t go in and just ask…’

‘Getting in is your business, however you must take Buffy with you. Only she can get you into the hidden archive, but once in, you’ll get all the help you need. I don’t, however, recommend Lord Carrington going: it is very holy ground and doubly blessed. You’re likely to start smoking from the feet up before you’ve walked five paces.

‘I want to thank you all for your patience with Rosamund, it took about two hundred years for her mind to recover after finding her daughter dead, and it is still hard for her to talk to strangers. But her knowledge about this situation is unparalleled.’ Charles added.

‘I think we all need time to process what we’ve heard, and we need time to collect and correlate the other information. I think we should break for the night and meet up again next week.’ Suggested Giles.

‘Agreed; how about dinner next Friday. Your place or ours?’ Charles answered.

‘Ours; then we can use the library, and we have already been your guests,’ Dawn suggested. Buffy looked at her sister askance. It was unlike Dawn to be so forward, but obviously she had some thoughts.

‘That would be fine,’ answered Matilda, ‘we will come to you. I can’t guarantee Rosamund’s appearance, but we will certainly be there.’

They left soon after, talking about all they had seen and heard. Buffy and Spike seemed quiet, one thinking about walking in daylight and the other…?
Buffy was thinking only about the chance of carrying the child of the man who was her soul-mate.

Two days later Dawn and Giles, with the help of Willow and Xander, were unpacking what books had survived the explosion at the council’s headquarters. There weren’t many and most of the Codices were damaged. Buffy and Spike were warming up, ready for Buffy to explore the Vatican later on that night. She planned to enter with the other tourists and, hopefully, stay after closing.

Willow had given up lugging books around and had logged onto the web. She wanted to give Buffy as much help as she could so looked up the Vatican, and couldn’t believe it when she found that even the Secret Archives were online. True, not the books themselves, but full details of the building and its opening times. Unfortunately it was only open to scholars, but the room layouts were there, with a lot of other details.

‘Giles, could you come here please?’ Willow asked.

‘Certainly. How can I help you Willow?’
‘Seems the secret archive is open to the public, well scholars anyway can you arrange for a scholar to visit the Secret Archive? We could attach you and Buffy as staff and get you into the building. It would save the breaking and entering bit, and you might even get a look around for hidden doors or even more secret bits.’

‘Good idea, I’ll make the call.’

Willow kept looking at the maps and frescoes, searching for any clue she could find. There were paintings on every ceiling and the Tower of the Winds was lovely, but nothing leapt out and grabbed her attention.

Xander wandered over to join her, handing over a cup of tea. Willow was not nice when coffeed up, she got hyper and Xander knew it.

‘What’s that there?’ asked Xander.

‘What?’ replied Willow.

‘That, the statue there, it looks like a girl with a stake in her hand.’

‘It does, but only from this angle; perhaps its some sort of sign. We’ll, sorry, I’ll keep looking and see what else I can find. Thanks for the tea.’

‘You’re welcome, poppet, I’ll go check in on Rachael, see if she needs anything. If you’re ok here?’ Xander replied.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she mumbled as she turned back to the computer screen. A small spell to highlight any important information wouldn’t hurt, but as Willow started to chant she felt barriers around the Vatican rise. ‘OK then, no witchcraft,’ she thought, ‘definitely the old fashioned way.’ -and started hacking into the system.


Two days later, Prof. Rupert Giles of Corpus Christi College, Oxford and his personal assistant, a Miss Elizabeth Summers, met Brother Stephen, a Jesuit serving in the Vatican. He was a middle- aged man with a hawk like face and eyes that seemed to look into Buffy’s very soul. As carefully as she had dressed in pants and a blouse she felt half naked under his staring eyes. There was no lust in them, just a higher being searching for a soul or the colour of the soul he saw. The monk gave a little nod as if a question had been answered and turned to Giles.

‘This way please. I understand you want to see the archive about the eleventh century excursion into Moorish Spain.’

‘Yes; I believe there is a copy of the letters from Abdul Ben Hamid to his Lord regarding the medicines and doctoring he was using. I am trying to prove the use of Blue lotus as a painkiller. I have information about it being used in Egypt and I believe there is a reference in these letters. If so, I can trace exactly which plant it was and we can look into its modern uses.’

‘Very interesting. If you’ll come through here, you may find what you’re after, Mr. Giles.’

Willow had tried to come with them, but as they approached closer and closer to the Holy See the witch felt more and more nauseous. It took a good ten minutes before she realised that wards had been placed around the buildings to prevent witches from entering. The stronger the witch the stronger the reaction it seemed to be.

The monk gave off an aura of dislike and distaste. He kept throwing what could only be described as ‘looks’ at Buffy, as though she didn’t belong in his library. Giles was as oblivious as always to such subtleties.

The monk and Giles started going through all the shelves, looking for the volumes needed.

Buffy followed, into a large room filled with wooden book cases, all screened behind wrought iron screens There were frescoes on every wall. The paintings were bright, vibrant; showing scenes of heroes battling demons and the forces of hell.

‘The letters and books you want are in this room,’ Brother Stephen told them, taking a large key and opening the door. There was shelf upon shelf of documents, sheaves of paper held together by ribbons and books galore.

‘Many thanks,’ said Giles, ‘We’ll start looking through these.’ Giles pulled on a pair of gloves he had thought to put in his pocket earlier.

Brother Stephen left Giles to go through the volume on the table. Buffy looked around the room and out of the window, trying to see if there was anywhere she could hide after closing.

Giles called her across.

‘Could you take notes on these texts here please, Miss Summers?’ He asked, pointing at a small pile of sorted letters.

Brother Stephen handed Buffy a pair of cotton gloves.

‘We need to protect the paper,’ he explained coldly. Buffy nodded and accepted the gloves.

A bell started to toll somewhere in the building.

‘I must go, prayers are about to start. I will be back in an hour, but I will have to lock the door behind me,’ he added.

Giles nodded and returned to his studying when the monk left the room.

She had only just begun to examine the paperwork when she started to get a ‘spider sense’ tingle. Trying to work out where it was coming from she walked back towards the window. Giles looked up at her.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked.

‘A slight headache. The room is a little stuffy, just need a breath of fresh air.’ She replied, as she took a deep breath, enjoying the breeze that was coming through the open window. She took a good look at the locking mechanism. It looked very secure and the courtyard was completely enclosed. No way in.

The tingling was getting stronger, but where was it coming from? Buffy looked around the room and noticed, as if it had only just appeared, a second door, standing slightly ajar. She made her way towards it.

‘Is there a book you’ve seen on the shelf there, my dear?’ Giles inquired.

‘Door,’ came the reply.

Giles was confused. He couldn’t see any door, just more shelves.

Buffy took another step forward, curious about the ‘invisible’ door. She felt like Alice about to head through the looking glass.

Looking through the door, she could see another room. Sitting at the table in it was another monk. One who was a lot older than Br. Stephen. He looked up with sparkling eyes and smiled at Buffy.

‘Do come in, my dear. I have waited a long time to meet you.’

‘Hello,’ answered Buffy, reaching behind her to check that her stake was still in its hidey hole in her trousers.

‘My name is Br. Roberto, I am an archivist here, with an interest in demonolgy, but I am no demon.’

‘Giles? Could you come here please?’

Giles looked up and panicked. He couldn’t see Buffy, but could hear her voice. There was no way out of the room.

‘Buffy, where are you? I can’t see you anywhere.’

Buffy put her head back through the door, frightening Giles as she seemed to appear ghostlike through the wall of books.

She held out her hand and grabbed Giles, pulling him into the new room with her.

‘Meet Br. Roberto, he says he’s not a demon, but my senses are going haywire. Feels like a thousand vampires are tap dancing in my brain.’

‘It’s the slayer spell,’ explained the monk. ‘This room follows slayers around the Vatican, and if she wants to find the codices if that’s what she’s here for, the room will open for her. If, of course, she is the true slayer, and not a council lackey. I was trying to keep the room shut, because HE was with you, but it wouldn’t let me. Seems you really do need to be in here.’

‘Why didn’t you want me in here?’ asked Giles, a little hurt at the thought that he could have been the reason the task would have failed.

‘We tried to help the Council, back in the 1700’s and again in the early twentieth century. We were turned away every time; all we wanted in return for all our kept knowledge was the slayers to be cared for with the respect due any Angel, but it wasn’t going to happen. Any slayer that tried to break free was killed, their God- chosen mates were killed, tortured just to send them mad, and through them to send the slayer mad as well. Worked as well, so no, we don’t trust, like or respect any one that has anything to do with your council and no, I didn’t want you to know where this archive was or even that it existed.’

‘You know about their mates. I thought you were supposed to destroy demons, not encourage girls to marry them?’

‘How many times have you tried to kill this Woman’s lover, how many times have you conspired with others to see him dead, and yet he lives and so do you. If you had tried to kill anyone else it would damage your soul, yet you tried to kill an ensouled being and felt no remorse at all. Don’t even think about lying here.’ The monk was warming to his subject.

‘I would imagine that this holy woman has forgiven you by now, and through her I believe, in fact I know, that the vampire has forgiven as well.

‘If the Powers That Be put two souls together, who are you and I to try to part them? Do you think that you are so wise, so well read, so insightful as to know the will of the Great Powers? Arrogance, that is all it is, pure arrogance. The smallest flower, smallest insect sees more than you do. There are repositories like this one all over the world, guarded by holy men and women of many religions. All here for the benefit of those few chosen ones who make the transition from slayer to Beloved Slayer, a true chosen one.’

The old monk was getting red in the face and although part of Buffy felt she should protect Giles she was enjoying seeing him bested by a man who obviously was as well read and knowledgeable as the Watcher was.

‘And to answer your question, yes we know about slayers, vampires, ensouled vampires, demons, everything. We know, or at least have knowledge of what is required, to allow a chosen one to become the bride of a champion. What he is required to do, what she is required to do, we even have the words to the human half of the ceremony.

‘Do you realise that marriage was based on the relationship of a mated pair of champions, that total trust and devotion that they share, the total love they have for one another? It was decided by cleverer men than us how to help those who keep the balance on this world between good and evil. Those of us here at The Holy See and those in Mecca, India, Nepal and other places where the Great Knowledge is kept have been instructed by messengers we simply could not ignore.’

Giles tried to speak three or four times, his mouth kept opening and closing but no sound came out.

‘Now, my dear, you will forgive an old man his ranting, I hope, but the care of the Chosen one is a sacred duty and this man here is responsible for rebuilding the council; and unfortunately for me I have been told to put him on the right path. Now as to the records you wanted, it is up to Miss Summers to find them. I am not allowed to help you, and I don’t suppose there is a chance of Mr. Giles finding them.’

Br. Roberto looked at Giles, who was still trying to process all he had been told. It had never occurred to him that he could have been so wrong. Even after proof after proof had been presented to him, he had kept to the way of thinking taught to him by the Council of Watchers. Then it hit him, whom should he have trusted? Travers, whom he had always had a strong dislike of, or Buffy, who had been chosen by a higher power to do a job? He was thunder struck.

‘So much for my ranting at you, now to more pleasant topics. I think the things you are really after are under lock and key in here. If you can see them, and open the door,’ Br. Roberto told them. He started to stare at Buffy.

‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ Giles spoke up. ‘There are no books here.

Buffy looked surprised. ‘Giles, stop messing, the walls are full of books and files.’

Giles shook his head.

‘No, I can’t see anything.’

‘Nothing at all?’ Buffy asked.

‘Nothing but wood panelling.’ Answered Giles.

The monk looked slightly amused and signalled to Buffy to take a book.
As she walked forward, Buffy looked at the wrought iron. There were huge locks incorporated into the designs. She tested the first one for its strength and even with her slayer powers couldn’t bend it. Looking around for a lever of some sort, she saw the statue that Willow had pointed out to them. It was of a girl with what looked like a stake in her hand. Buffy walked over and grabbed the stake, which easily slid out of the marble girl’s grip. Buffy then went back to the wrought iron work and tried to fit the stake into it somehow. All this time Giles looked on in amazement as Buffy kept heading for what was to him a blank wall.

Nothing happened and Brother Roberto still looked faintly amused. Buffy started looking around more carefully. There was nothing that looked like it could help.

‘Are you just going to sit there?’ She asked the monk.

‘To open the lock takes three steps:
‘The seeing,
‘The finding,
‘And the opening of the lock. A lock only those chosen will see and find. You have completed two parts of the riddle; now for the third.’

Buffy looked at Giles.
‘I can see books, and files, hundreds of them. Enough to keep you and Willow happy for years. They are behind wrought iron screens, which are locked. This seems to be the only slayer orientated thing in the room, so I thought it might have been the key, but I can’t see where to shove it.’

‘Where do you normally put a stake, Buffy?’ Giles asked gently, still trying to digest all he had been told.

‘In a vampire’s chest… oohh.’

Buffy started searching all the frescoes. One of them had to be of a vampire in need of staking, and there he was: high up on the wall. Buffy took a leap and jumped as high as she could, aiming the stone stake for the vampire’s heart. She hit it dead centre, the stake sliding into the wall and all the screens opening up before Giles’ surprised eyes. As Buffy had said, hundreds of books. All appearing as if by magic in front of the astonished watcher.





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