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Author's Chapter Notes:
The chapter names for this and the previous one (and possibly for the following chapters) are taken from Apollo 440. Also this is unedited.
*Sunnydale High School library*

Giles had been only mildly surprised when Dalton and Penny had joined Hank and himself on the research trip they’d set off on. Apparently Spike had set up a round the clock vigil on Buffy’s house as soon as she’d been attacked, and her Watcher was deemed too important to be left on his own after the night’s events as well. It was also a boon that Dalton seemed an able researcher.

The four of them were busy looking through ancient tomes and journals of previous Watchers, with Penny making comments from time to time whenever she found a passage that she considered particularly bigoted, or inaccurate.

“Look at this. ‘Every nest of vampires shares a common blood connection, most likely having all been turned by their Master, although this should not be in any way misconstrued as a familial bond, instead being more of a method of control exerted by the leader of the group.’ Who even writes this crap?” She was looking at Giles with a smirk. “I can’t believe the Council has managed to survive for this long if it doesn’t know the first thing about vampire society.”

The Watcher paused his own search—the one he hadn’t shared with the rest. “Fascinating as your opinion on the matter may be, it is not related to our current subject. Should I remind you that it is quite possible the life of your Master is on the line?”

She made a disapproving noise in her throat and set aside the journal, picking up a demonology book instead.

Giles wondered what the Council would think about his having given free rein to his library to a couple of members of the undead. He looked around, shrugged, and then continued his search.

“I think I found something.” Dalton was squinting at an ancient looking volume. “It says something here about something called the ‘killer of the dead.’ Apparently it is a poison that, once it enters the intended vampire’s body, cannot be stopped.”

“No cure?” Penny had dropped the tome she was perusing and was leaning over her lover’s shoulder.

“Hmm. There is a mention of something here.”

Giles couldn’t contain himself, and therefore peered over Dalton’s other shoulder. Skimming the text, he reached the passage Dalton was currently pointing at and blanched.

“What’s wrong, Rupert?” Hank had also given up his seat and approached the rest of the group.

Giles took his glasses off and started cleaning them. It was in part a tic, and in part because he didn’t want to look at the text anymore. “It seems the only cure is blood in substantial quantities.” Fixing Buffy’s father with a meaningful look, he went on. “And it must be Slayer blood.”

There wasn’t much left to say after that.

~~~***~~~

*Buffy’s house, later that night*

“No, Slayer.” Spike was pacing furiously, but it was clear to anyone watching that he wasn’t very steady on his feet.

“Maybe I can donate a bit at a time.” She looked at her Watcher, who was standing near the entrance and watching the argument unfold. “Did the book say how long we have? Maybe we can—”

“I bloody well said ‘no,’ didn’t I? I’m not risking—” Spike stopped shouting and came closer to Buffy. “I promised I wouldn’t put you in danger again. You’re already weak.” He pointed to the still visible bruises on her face. “The wankers are still out there and they seem to have a real yen for attacking you. I’m not letting you walk around half-baked from blood loss, and that’s final.”

“Giles, how long?”

Joyce could recognize the look on her daughter’s face. It was the one she wore when any and all logical reasoning would be met with a stubborn conviction that ‘Buffy knows best.’ Apparently becoming the Sayer only enhanced that facet of her personality.

“It’s not really clear, however my guess would be a day at the most.”

Buffy’s face fell, and Joyce wanted to go to her, but didn’t want to get in the middle of the argument.

“See, Slayer? Now can we forget about you using yourself as a blood bag?”

“Wait. What about the Gem? Shouldn’t that save you?”

Spike looked away and Joyce was certain he was preparing to lie to her daughter.

“It should. It’s probably just taking it’s time, like it does with tranqs and poisons. I’ll be weaker and groggier for a while, then I’ll bounce right back like I always do. No need to be worrying your pretty little head about old Spike, yeah? You focus on getting back to form.” He walked out after that, mumbling something about smoking on the back porch.

Buffy was left hugging herself in the middle of the living room, and Joyce went and hugged her this time. The way her daughter buried her face in Joyce’s shoulder made her heart ache. Hank joined them, and that made it just a little bit better.

*

“You lied to my Slayer.”

Spike let out a curse at the intrusion. Leave it to the Watcher to not leave bloody off. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Giles held out his hand and Spike passed him a fag and his lighter. After the old man lit up, he kept talking. “The text was very clear. There are no prevention methods, no cures, no quarter, save for slayer blood. The Gem might be allowing you to remain upright, but it will not save you in the long run.”

Spike watched the smoke he’d exhaled get lost in the air. “What of it?”

“She might have been right. If the Gem manages to delay the effects long enough, it might be possible for her to save up enough of her blood for you to consume and be saved.” He was watching the embers of his cigarette while he spoke. Seemed he was just as reluctant to bring it up as Spike was to hear it. Made sense, really. A Watcher talking with a vampire about feeding him his Slayer’s blood. Weren’t they the mavericks? “How fast do you think it’s progressing?”

Spike sighed. “Probably have a few days, a week at most.” He ground out his cigarette. “Not gonna put Buffy in danger. Rather dust.”

“So you’ve said.” The Watcher gave him a sideways look. “You keep mentioning her state. What is it that troubles you?”

Spike lit up another fag. “She’s not healing like she should, and when she was pulling at the Shafting Shaft she had even less strength than you.”

That seemed to give Giles pause. “Are you certain?”

The vampire snorted. “Wasn’t like I was keeping score, but you hurt me more than she did.” Spike narrowed his eyes. “What is it that you know?”

Giles finished his own smoke, studiously not looking him in the eye. “I only have a theory I must research further. I will let you know if anything develops.”

Spike raised his voice at the other man’s retreating form. “You make sure you do that, Watcher.”

~~~***~~~~

*unmarked cave right outside the city*

“Careful, boys. We don’t know what these pulsers have going for them, but you can bet your asses it’s not going to be pretty.” Brian surveyed the assault team he’d gathered. “Any of you got any magic skills?”

One of the other demons—a pureblood Charrak—raised his hand. “I can sense sources of magic, and whatever’s inside doesn’t register. So we should be safe.”

Brian nodded. “Good. At least that’s something.” He started pointing in turn to his team. “You two go in first, you two cover the rear, you and you take the flanks, and the rest of us will fan out as we can. Remember, don’t get in each other’s way, and our goal is to capture at least one. They’ve probably got cyanide in their teeth, so make sure they don’t have time to bite down. Also they must have gotten our little message and won’t even wait for us to capture them before they commit suicide. Speed is of the essence, people—try to knock them out as soon as possible, kill only if you have to.” Once everyone had nodded that they’d understood, he rubbed his palms together. “Ready? Let’s go.”

Once Brian and his team made it inside all hell broke loose. The hunters were heavily armed, wore protective clothing, and were well trained. Once they’d emptied the weapons they had on them, the humans pulled out swords and stakes and charged at their attackers.

Brian and Eddie, another one of Spike’s vampires, ended up trading blows with one of the larger hunters. Thanks to the precaution of grabbing a tire iron, Brian managed to knock out his opponent pretty easily, however one of the hits he’d given to the human’s face must have also broken the tooth holding the cyanide, so there was nothing more that could be done.

A quick head count confirmed what Brian had feared going in. A couple of the humans were already dead, not counting his victim, as well as a couple of the attacking demons. Making a quick decision, he jumped behind the nearest enemy, shoved his fingers in the other man’s mouth and bit down on his neck. He ignored the dying victim’s attempts to bite through his hand. Soon enough he could hear the faltering heartbeat reach that special rhythm that meant it was time. He opened a vein and created Spike’s newest minion.

As his future fledgling gave his last breath, Brian surveyed the cave. The hunters were dead, either from the combat, or with the tell-tale foam around their mouths. He looked down at the cooling corpse in his arms. He hoped the turned hunter would be talkative.

~~~***~~~

*Giles’ flat, early next morning*

Jenny was so tired she almost gave in to her fevered brain’s idea of fixing herself an energy potion. The four coffees and three teas within the last twelve hours weren’t enough to keep her fully functioning anymore, but she knew the potion would only mean she’d be able to focus for about an hour before a total collapse. She doubted she’d have the luxury of uninterrupted sleep for almost a day, as the side effect required.

She sighed deeply and set about making yet another espresso when Giles made a victorious sound.

“Did you find whatever it was you were searching for?”

His eyes were red and sunken in from lack of sleep. “Yes. I will require your assistance now, though.”

She gestured to the bag of magic supplies they’d retrieved from her apartment and placed on the table. “Does that have anything to do with it?”

He was busy rummaging through a bag. “Indeed.” Rupert pulled out the file of blood he’d taken from Buffy. “I need you to look at her blood and tell me if you find anything wrong.”

Jenny could see where things were headed, but decided to ask anyway. “And by look you mean a spell, right?”

He didn’t even pause as he started placing ingredients on the table. Apparently he had his own magic stash under the counter. He then started going through her bag, studying each satchel carefully before either placing it on the counter, or discarding it back in the bag. “I’ll need you to make and drink a potion, perform a ritual, and tell me what you can sense.” He looked at her with sheer determination. “I will provide the anchor.”

Jenny felt a pulse of heat go through her at the thought of performing magic together. Ever since he’d told her about his ‘misspent youth’ as Ripper she’d been curious to see how it would be to do a spell with him. Unfortunately they were both too tired and too pressed for time to enjoy the experience properly. So she made a mental note to try to talk him into doing some experimenting together after the current crisis was over.

His hand on her arm gave her a start.

“I was asking if you require any preparation.” He was wearing a crooked smile.

“No, sorry. I’m just very tired.” She shrugged. “Not much either of us can do about that, though.” She blinked a few times to try to dislodge the cobwebs around her eyes. “Let’s see here.”

The potion and ritual proved to be simple enough. A few powders, a boiling kettle, some candles, a magic circle, and some chanting. Nothing she hadn’t done before, and Giles proved to be a very competent helper.

She could feel the effects almost immediately. Her sight behaved almost like a computer monitor when it shimmered, collapsed to a single point went out, then gradually cleared again. The differences were clear, though. Everything was brighter, while at the same time the colors were more muted. She felt the ebb and flow of magic around her, while at the same time being completely detached from everything. Everything except for Rupert, that is.

When she looked at him she found he was shiny and muted like everything else, but he seemed more in focus. She felt drawn to him in a way that was part the spell, and part her own desire. She would deny giggling as soon as the spell stopped.

Giles smiled, but pointed to the phial in front of her.

Once she looked at it she found it hard to concentrate on anything else. The blood had become a bright orange, and it was glowing, its hallo all the colors of the rainbow. Pretty. Looking closer though, she could tell there was something wrong.

“Jenny.” Rupert was talking. It took her a moment to process what it was he was saying. “I need you to tell me what color the blood is.”

Her mouth was dry, and her tongue was too numb. She pushed herself to speak. “Orange. Ripe mandarins type of orange.” She grinned as she imagined being fed slices of sweet mandarins.

“Is there any yellow pushing back?”

His question took her a bit by surprise. Why would yellow want to push? And who was pulling? Maybe the green knew. The green looked like it knew a thing or two. She shook her head a bit, trying to remember what she was supposed to do. “There’s some yellow, but the red is winning. Why are they fighting? Should we get the blue to referee?”

Rupert was talking again, but she couldn’t make out the words exactly. The image flickered and she could tell the spell was ending.

Once she was out of the trance she found herself in Rupert’s arms.

“You can rest now, it’s okay.”

She frowned. “Did we find out what we wanted?”

He looked sad and angry. “Yes, and it’s as I feared. The Council is behind the attack.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because the trance you were in is used to ensure a Slayer has been affected enough by the Cruciamentum drug. Less the yellow, lesser the powers.” He sneered. “And only the Council has the recipe for the drug.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry. You need to rest now. I’ll call Buffy’s house and tell them to be on guard.”

There were more questions to ask, but the sleep Jenny had been fighting for so long caught up with her.

*

She woke up with a start because of a tremendous crashing sound. Giles was fighting with some men that had broken through the door. Jenny tried to get up, but one of them pointed a device at her and all she knew was pain before she lost consciousness again.

*

Her head was throbbing. Apart from that, her hands and feet were killing her. She realized she’d been manacled to a wall in something resembling a cave.

“—Sanctimonious bitch.” Giles was manacled next to her, his hair and clothes disheveled, and his glasses were missing. He had a big bruise forming on the side of his face and was yelling at one of their captors. It took a moment for Jenny’s muddled brain to put a name to the face. Gwendolyn Post.

So it was true. It had been the Council all along. And now they had them. A look around the walls showed no other captives, just another pair of restraints, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any others that had fallen prey. They could have other caves.

“I am merely doing my job. The job you gave up on as soon as you allowed that creature access to your Slayer.” Gwendolyn spat out her words with such distaste it made Jenny cringe.

“That’s what the excuse the Nazis used. Is the Council of Watchers not better than that? If that is the case, I hereby tender my resignation.” Giles was defiant, but the teacher could tell he was barely standing straight.

It made her wonder what they’d done to him. It’s terrifying to realize that you hope someone was just punched a couple of times and tazed.

“You needn’t worry about resigning. Your services are no longer required anyway. In fact, your position as Ms. Summer’s watcher will become obsolete in short time.” Her smirk was truly horrid.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing? She’s one of the best slayers in Council history. I—”

Jenny screamed when Gwendolyn tazed Giles until he lost consciousness. Which only alerted their captor to her being awake. The female watcher didn’t even bat an eye as she revealed another device and discharged it in Jenny’s chest.





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