This Is How It Goes

He was grinning in a feral, predatory way. Advancing on her slowly, almost lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. Was this how regular people felt? No control, just helplessly waiting for things to happen to them? She wanted to scream. This wasn't supposed to be how it happened. She was the predator, not the prey. The vampire grabbed her shoulders hard and she shuddered.

"Shh," he said, eerily softly. "It's not dying. It's moving on. You'll see what I mean."

He lowered his fangs and pressed himself close, and then gasped in pain as Buffy shoved the knife into his stomach. Gritted her teeth, twisted it in to the hilt, and felt warm blood spill out. He backed up, looking down at the weapon protruding from his gut and then raised his head and gave her a sick, warped grin.

"This just won't do. Although, I have to say, I do like a woman who's not afraid to get her hands dirty." He bent his hand down to catch the blood. "Don't worry, it's not all gone. I'll save some for you."

Buffy looked at him in terrified horror. No, no, no, no, repeated in her head. She needed a stake. Now. And then gasped as another vampire stepped out of the shadows behind him. The first vampire glanced back.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled self-deprecatingly, "I forgot my manners with the stabbing. This is Bronson. He's a little new. Forgive him if he gets too excited."

Bronson growled, his yellow eyes full of a ravenous hunger. Which widened in shock as he stared down at the stake pushed through his chest. He dissolved with a guttural cry and Giles stood behind him, his jaw clenched, his face hard.

"Giles!" Buffy cried desperately. Frantic hope coursed through her.

He raised his eyes to her and there was something terribly painful and naked in them. Buffy's chest tightened. They looked at each other for a split second and then Giles gently tossed her a stake. She caught it automatically, feeling its reassuring presence, and stepped up with something hot and furious pouring into her stomach.

The first vampire, who had turned slightly to face Giles, crumbled with a strangely resigned expression as Buffy slammed the stake into his chest.

There were several moments of silence and Giles and Buffy stood, staring at the pile of dust. She raised her head slowly to focus on him and was suddenly terrified at the look of crushing guilt and bitterness on his face.

"Giles ..." she started, feeling her voice break. "What's going on?"

He grasped her shoulder firmly, said in a shaking voice, "We have to get back, Buffy."

Giles walked over to the front door, took a heavy, bronze key from his pocket, and unlocked it. Buffy's heart stopped. He walked out, not looking back, and Buffy followed, her chest constricted.

~ — ~ — ~

" — care if I have to walk around town with a goddam megaphone calling her name! We're going looking for her and fuck you if you're not coming!" Faith shouted furiously at Xander, a bloody gash covering her forehead, a crossbow in one hand.

As Buffy opened the library doors to witness this, Faith and Xander's heads snapped around. Xander clapped a hand to his cheek, his eyes rolling to the ceiling in silent, melodramatic gratitude.

"Oh, thank God," he said loudly.

Faith's face, contorted in frustrated outrage, suddenly went slack with relief. She dropped the crossbow on the table in a loud clatter, crossed the room in three long strides and Buffy felt strong, familiar arms wrap around her. She inhaled leather, vanilla, and flowers, and almost started crying at the warmth and safety.

"Jesus, Buffy," Faith said, and she sounded young and scared against Buffy's shoulder. "You scared the shit out of me."

Faith pulled back to look at her, and put her hand gently on Buffy's cheek, tracing the numerous scratches. She stared at her with such naked tenderness and relief that Buffy almost forgot the last two hours.

"What happened?" Faith asked, her eyes and voice hardening.

Buffy glanced over at Giles, her mouth a tight line. "I think we're all a little curious."

Giles, who had been examining the floor intently, raised his head in a slow and pained gesture. "I ... I think you should all sit down. There's something you have to hear."

Faith's eyes narrowed dangerously, but she walked with Buffy over to the table and sat down next to her, never releasing her hand. Xander sat on the other side, his eyes anxiously flicking back and forth between the two Slayers and Giles.

"There has been a test for Slayers ever since the Watcher's Council has existed. On her 18th birthday, a Slayer ... her strength, her powers, are taken from her," Giles began, his jaw clenched and his voice shaky. "She — she is placed in a life-or-death situation as a test of her resourcefulness."

Buffy felt Faith's hand tighten painfully on her own.

"I'm not turning 18 for another month, Giles," Buffy said quietly, her stomach plummeting.

"The Council ... we decided to move up the test, because of the Mayor. The situation was too unstable to do it later." He wasn't looking directly at her.

"We?" Buffy said unevenly.

Giles closed his eyes tightly. "It's an organic compound. Muscle relaxant, adrenal suppressant. Not permanent. You'll have your strength back in a couple of days."

"You — you did this to me?" Buffy asked brokenly, and there were a thousand emotions running through her body.

"I had a role. The instructions were very clear." He looked at her suddenly, and she saw a depth of pain and regret. "I was to administer the compound, to slip it to you somehow. Your water bottle."

Buffy felt a painful comprehension rush through her mind and body.

"You set up everything up ... the vampires earlier, who said the Mayor was doing something. There was never anything going on. You ..." she swallowed. "You put me in that house. With that vampire," Buffy said slowly, rigidly. Something was coursing through her, an agonizing anger that made her stomach lurch and her hands clench. She was holding Faith's hand as if it was a life raft.

Giles started to move forward, just made a tentative movement, and Faith was suddenly standing up between him and Buffy. Buffy blinked and Faith was liquid violence. She had never seen anyone, human or vampire, move so fast. She could see the other Slayer's body, could see every muscle tight and bared.

"If you touch her, I'll kill you," Faith said, and her voice was so quiet and dangerous that Giles took a step back.

He flicked his eyes towards Buffy. "I couldn't — I have a job, Buffy. But I couldn't just sit -"

Giles stopped as the doors of the library opened again abruptly, and an older man, radiating self-importance and purpose, strode in. There was a moment of tense silence as he walked in. He glanced casually over the surprised faces, his eyes landing on Buffy.

"Ms. Summers," he nodded.

"Quentin," Giles almost spat.

Quentin spared him one supercilious glance before turning back to Buffy. "I am Quentin Travers, the head of the Council. I'd like to congratulate you on your success in the Cruciamentum."

Faith turned slightly to face him, and Buffy saw her angry sneer. "Yeah, congrats, B. While these bastards sit back and sip their Earl Gray, you get locked in a house with a psycho vamp." She walked over to him, aggression in her hips, in her hands. Her eyes were bright and lethal. "Gosh, Quentin, we're just so grateful we could be guinea pigs in your mind-fuck."

His brow furrowed. "The other Slayer, I presume. Faith." He frowned. "You are not a part of this. This concerns only Ms. Summers."

Faith cocked her head and smiled a twisted, threatening grin. Buffy had never seen her so tensed, her body language so aggressive. "Maybe you gutless little shits don't understand loyalty, but you fuck with B, you fuck with me. And I'm a little less forgiving than she is."

Quentin looked at her and something uncertain flashed across his smug face for a split second. "I merely came to offer my praise of Ms. Summers. And to attend to Mr. Giles."

Giles' eyes narrowed. "Attend to me?" he asked flatly.

"Ms. Summers passed the test. You didn't. I approached the Council and they've agreed — we have decided to relieve you of your Watcher duties. We're letting you go," Quentin said firmly.

Giles' face betrayed nothing. He raised an eyebrow. "And the reasoning behind this?"

"The Cruciamentum is a test for the Watchers as well as the Slayers, Rupert. You failed to maintain a distance. You disobeyed a direct order of the Council by interfering." Quentin stared at Giles, and there was something sympathetic in his expression. "You have a father's love for her."

Giles looked down. Faith snorted, let out a sardonic laugh. Buffy stood up and put her hand softly on Faith's forearm, feeling muscles tight and moving under her skin. She looked in her eyes and saw Faith's searing anger melt a little.

"Quentin," Buffy started sweetly. "Why don't you go back to England and send my best regards to the rest of the Council. Oh, and this." She raised her middle finger slowly and deliberately, and Faith laughed shortly.

Quentin's mouth was a tight, hard line. "Very well. We'll be sending a new Watcher soon. I hope we can expect more cooperation." He glanced around the room one more time and walked out.

There were several moments of intense silence after his departure. Xander hadn't said a single word since Buffy had come back, and he was sitting and staring at Giles with a hard, disillusioned expression.

Giles looked at Buffy and broke the silence, his eyes oddly bright. "I'm so sorry," he said, and Buffy felt a small part of her anger crumble at the blatant anguish and sorrow in his voice.

She stepped forward, holding his gaze. Faith twitched in the corner of her vision.

"Saying that — it doesn't change what you did to me," Buffy said, trying to keep her voice steady. She saw Giles clench his jaw and tried to stop the trembling in her own palms.

"I want you to listen to me, Giles," Buffy continued, and a note of solid decisiveness entered her tone. "I don't care what that well-tailored weasel from the Council said. You are my Watcher, and I still need you. But I can't trust you. Not right now. Not after what you did."

Giles looked at her, face drawn and jagged, and nodded tightly, his eyes sliding to the ground.

"Take me home, Faith," Buffy said quietly, turning to her after several moments.

"Yeah, B," Faith responded shortly, her eyes flicking to Giles with a small, angry sneer. She took Buffy's hand.

"Buffy," Giles said softly, his voice uneven. Buffy turned around to look at him. "I will do whatever I can to win back your trust."

"I know," Buffy responded, giving him a small smile. She turned back, Faith's hand in her own. Faith swung open the library doors, shooting one last contemptuous glance at Giles before walking out into the hallway, Xander trailing behind them.

Chapter 17: Trust

Author's Notes: Thanks muchly to Sapphire Smoke for helping me figure out what the hell was going on with my banner. Belated — yes. Lame — quite possibly. But, existent? Hells yeah.

Buffy woke up the next morning to find Faith gone. The other Slayer had escorted her home, clasping her hand tightly the entire time. She had padded silently upstairs with Buffy and stood uncertainly by as she collapsed into bed. Buffy had gone to sleep with the image of Faith watching over her, the angry fire still in her eyes softening with a protective tenderness.

Buffy woke up with a sharp twisting in her stomach and the faces of Faith, taut and livid, and Giles, full of anguish, burned into her mind. God, Giles. As she brushed her teeth, she tried to organize her feelings. A small part of her felt as if something had irrevocably changed between her and Giles, as if her basic conception of him had been fundamentally altered. He was a different person to her. He had betrayed her, had stripped her of everything that mattered in her life to fulfill some bureaucratic obligation. The other part of her, the dominant part, wanted to forget everything that had happened, to embrace him and forgive him unconditionally. To only see the sacrifices he had made for her and not the mistakes. To look at his deep pain and guilt and accept that he loved her and that was all that mattered. More than anything, Buffy wanted Giles to be that dependable, trustworthy person to her again. The deep ache in her gut told her it would take time.

She walked into the library in the morning and saw Giles immediately, opening books behind the counter. He looked up at her, keeping his expression carefully neutral, but Buffy saw a flash of fear behind his eyes. He opened his mouth, took a breath to speak, and then apparently thought better of it and closed it.

"Hi," Buffy said quietly.

Giles smiled tightly. "Hello." He shut a book closed and Buffy saw his hands were unsteady. "How ... how are you feeling today?"

"Better," Buffy responded shortly, dumping her bags on the table. "Could open the jar of strawberry jam all by myself, so call it progress."

"I believe it should only take several days for you to — to fully gain your strength back," Giles said slowly. His attention was fixed solely on the books in front of him.

"Good," Buffy said softly.

She saw Giles close his eyes and inhale deeply. "Buffy, I -"

"Don't," she interrupted sharply. Giles looked at her directly, fear and shame clouding his face. "Don't apologize again. It won't change anything." Giles' mouth tightened and he nodded at her, averting his eyes.

Buffy stood up and walked over to the counter. "I want things to go back to the way they were. I want to be able to trust you again. All you can do now is let me," she said, her voice quiet but clear. She tilted her head, catching his apprehensive gaze. "Okay?"

Giles swallowed and nodded. "Yes — I — yes, of course."

"Okay," Buffy responded firmly, putting her hands on the counter and leaning forward. "Now. Down to the real business. Who the hell is Thomas Hobbes and why did he write a book about a giant sea monster?"

Giles stared at her. Buffy drew back, frowning. "That — that probably wasn't the most intelligent way I could have asked that," she said tentatively.

Giles shook his head. "Could you maybe help me not look like an idiot?" she asked timidly, adopting that hopeful, innocent expression that always got her what she wanted.

He smiled at her, shaking his head in exasperation. "I suppose I could do that," he said quietly. He walked out from behind the counter and motioned for Buffy to follow him, a small, contented smile on his face. Buffy felt that unpleasant tightness in her stomach loosen for the first time since yesterday. Instead of the usual foreboding anxiety that occupied her gut so consistently, she felt a warm, comforting conviction. No matter how long it took, they were going to be okay.