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Dieclaimer: I do not in any way Buffy the vampire slayer, that right belongs to the creators and producers.
I would like to thank my beta's DreamsofSpike and Vampsgirly for the wonderful job they have done on this chapter.
This fic is was first posted on Elysian Fields.
Please read, enjoy and review ^_^
As she stood on the corner of one of Sunnydale's more crowded streets, Cara Morgan's icy blue eyes took in her first glimpse of the small town, and she could not help the small smirk that graced her lips.
' They say don't judge a book by its cover, but this is bloody ridiculous. Oh, well. Meet Mr. Giles first, then openly mock the small town that rests on the Hellmouth.'
Picking up her luggage once again Cara quickly made her way to the Magic Box. When she got there, she looked through the window before entering, and saw a bunch of misfits huddled around a round table, books open in front of them, and each one of them appearing to be bored out of their minds.
'Please tell me these aren't the children that have been helping the slayer? Great - I'm going to have to work with a group of ignorant barely-adults. Well, this should be fun.'
Squaring her shoulders and once again picking up her heavy luggage, Cara entered the Magic Box, the bell notifying the people in the store of her entrance.
"Welcome to the Magic Box, how can I take your money?"
Cara raised an eyebrow at the rather original greeting.
"Maybe some other time, luv, I'm looking for Mr. Rupert Giles."
"That would be me," Giles said as he approached the young woman, who looked to be about twenty-five. She had hair the color of warm honey, and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. All in all, she was quite lovely.
'And by the sounds of things very British.'
"Well, the tweed is a bit of a let on...pity. Well, anyway, I'm Cara Morgan and the matter I wish to speak to you about is quite grave."
Cara noticed out of the corner of her eye the heads of the teens at the table shoot up, and she tried to keep from openly smirking when she saw Giles reach for his glasses and begin to polish them.
'Ah...and there it is - the classic watcher reaction. So bloody predictable.'
"Anya, would you please put the closed sign out? I think it's best if we have a bit of privacy for this conversation."
"But Giles - all the money!" Anya seemed horrified at the prospect of closing in the middle of the day, impending apocalypse or no.
Cara watched as the young man with floppy brown hair, in baggy pants and flannel, came up to the strange woman behind the counter and tried to talk her into closing the store.
' Wonders never cease...so Doughboy is with Her Highly Unusual...sure...she's strange, but she is pretty.'
Cara was able to pick up a few of the words that passed between the couple - words like "money"..."grave"..."apocalypse" and the like were thrown around, but what had biting her lip to keep from laughing was the final statement Anya made to her apparent significant other.
"If you make me close the store, Xander Harris, there will be no orgasms for you! I'll find someone else to provide my orgasms...I will!"
Cara shook her head at the statement, as the young man began to turn a bright shade of red. There were so many things she could have said, but at the moment she thought it best to stick to the matter at hand, and spare the boy any further embarrassment.
"Mr. Giles, there is no need for you to close the store. The world isn't ending just yet - but I have a feeling that if you close the store right now, it might as well end for both Xander and Anya. Maybe there is someplace we can go to speak privately?"
"Yes, of course, we can go into my office - of sorts," Giles suggested with a slightly self-conscious smile. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"
"That would be lovely."
As Giles guided the young woman to the round table, he shot the remaining Scoobies a look that said in no uncertain terms, "Get lost, now!"
Giles busied himself with making the tea - and trying to remember where he had heard the name Cara Morgan before.
' Think, you bloody old man, think - why does that name sound so familiar?'
Buffy, Willow and Tara were now standing where Anya and Xander had been having their little lovers' quarrel a few minutes before.
"Hey - who do you think she is?"
"Well she's pretty, and she has nice breasts. Men like nice breasts. And young. She's probably Giles' orgasm partner." Anya's manner spoke of absolute certainty.
"Ahn, I don't think she's his lady friend."
"Yeah, I mean she asked for ‘Mr. Rupert Giles' - she didn't say anything about finding her boyfriend, or really sound like she knew him personally - and anyhow, her and Giles? Way wigsome! She's young enough to be his daughter!" Buffy objected in a high, squeaky voice.
' I can't believe Anya would think that Giles could be having sex with someone that young! I mean, he's practically ancient! Eeeewwwwwwww - now I have a mental image ...blech...like seeing my mom and Giles wasn't enough! Now I have to have this going through my mind, too!'
Buffy shook her head and scrunched up her nose at the thoughts that were running through her mind, trying to focus enough to listen to what the others were talking about.
"We are talking about a British couple. The British are always very polite; it's always ‘yes, please' and ‘no, thank you' even when they're having wild monkey sex fifteen times a day - I should know." Once again, Anya's voice held the sound of authority born of experience.
"I seriously doubt that - not *while* they're having - I mean - it would slow things down quite a bit - wouldn't it?" Willow barely managed to get the barely coherent question out, turning a shade of red equal to her hair as she did.
Anya nodded her head up and down in disappointed way. Buffy noticed out of the corner of her eye that Xander was smirking a smirk that rivaled Spike's most evil smirks.
"Well I guess that nails it. Captain Peroxide isn't as hot as he thinks he is...oh wait. That doesn't nail it!"
"No, sweetie, I said polite British *couples* do that. I never said anything about Spike. I bet Spike would be quite the partner in bed - all that stamina."
Anya finished in a dreamy sort of way, causing Xander to scowl at the way her eyes glazed over. An uncomfortable silence surrounded the small group for a few moments, until they were brought out of it by Willow.
"Oh...oh...I can't believe we hadn't thought of this sooner! I mean, who else is British and would be looking for Giles, and be here to talk about ‘grave matters'?"
When all she got were blank looks and shrugs of shoulders, she answered her own rather obvious question.
"Duh! The Watcher's Council!"
"Okay, how is it that *that* gives me a more serious case of the wiggins then the idea of her being his girlfriend?"
"Probably has something to do with the fact that they never bring good news. They're such a doom and gloom kind of group," Xander replied in his most bored tone of voice.
"Is it just me, or does she not really look much like a watcher?" Willow asked, looking between Xander and Buffy.
"What, you mean her lack of geekdom and nerdiness, or the fact that she is Hollywood pretty, and also happens to be minus the usual glasses and tweed? Yeah. *She* looks like a watcher."
The group of young adults then turned their attention to the young woman who had gained their interest from the moment she had first addressed Giles. They took in her petite frame, nearly an equal to that of the slayer; her long, wavy, honey blond hair that reached the middle of her back; her milky white skin, pink lips and clear blue eyes.
There was only one word to describe Cara Morgan and that was beautiful. Unlike the watchers that they had met previously, Cara was dressed very fashionably, wearing low rise blue jeans teamed with a tank top and leather jacket, and four inch heels.
As they all openly examined her, Cara turned her head and looked at them. Instead of continuing to blatantly stare at her, the teens quickly turned their attention to the floor.
Cara smirked at this, said a few final words to Giles, and then stood up, Giles leading the way toward the counter.
They all looked at Giles expectantly as he neared them, wanting to know what was going on. He just ignored them and reached for the phone behind the counter, dialing a number they all could tell he knew by heart.
"Yes...hello...may I please speak with Quentin Travers? Rupert Giles." After a brief pause, he continued in a cool tone of voice, "Hello Quentin...I believe we may as well skip the standard pleasantries. Why didn't you notify me about the arrival of Cara Morgan? Yes, I know I no longer work for you, but this is serious business. You can't just expect us...yes she's here...just a minute..."
Giles put his hand over the phone and, turning to Cara, said, "He'd like to speak with you."
"Bloody shock," Cara remarked with a sarcastic roll of her eyes as she took the phone from Giles' hand.
"Travers...no, not yet..." She sighed wearily before continuing, "I know...listen here, Travers, I'm not incompetent. Last I checked I scored better than you in pretty much everything, so the next time you take that tone with me you might want to remember that I can bloody well make your life a living hell in - well, hell. I will do what I see is fit. I'm not your bloody puppet, and you'd best remember that...yes...no...maybe...got it...yeah...well then, all the best now, my love to Cynthia. Right, will do...bye."
Turning around to Giles, as she hung up the phone, Cara remarked with a smile, "Well that went better than expected ...so... you or me?"
"I think it would be best if it came from me. Anya, please lock up the store."
"This is not to be discussed, Anya!"
Cara put her hand on Giles forearm, when the Watcher almost appeared ready to hurt Anya in his frustration.
"Anya...this is very important. You will be a big part of the discussion, and you can't watch over the money and do that at the same time, can you, luv?" Cara spoke in a logical, calming sort of way, which had Anya shaking her head sadly in resigned acceptance.
Anya went about quickly closing the store, and then joined the others at the research table.
Giles saw that all the people in the room were looking at him expectantly, and tried to get his thoughts together as he took off his glasses and began to wipe them.
"Cara Morgan is a watcher, and I'm sure you all have guessed that she is here because of a prophesy..."
"Uh oh, the end of the world is nigh!" Xander suddenly burst out in a shrill, very over-dramatic voice.
"Does he always do that?" Cara asked Giles, giving the boy a dubious look.
"Unfortunately, yes, usually."
Cara nodded her head and kept her opinion to herself, not wanting to say anything until she knew the people and the situation properly.
"As I was saying, Cara has found a prophecy which prophesies the coming of the Beast, and the First, unless..."
"We stop it. Got the memo the last couple of prophesies back, Giles. So where is this Beast and how do I kill it?"
"You don't," Cara informed her in a calm voice filled with authority.
"Okay, this is how it works: watchers do the paper work, and I save the world by killing the latest big bad." Buffy ended with a dramatic eye roll, after using her most patronizing tone of voice.
Instead of making an outraged reply, Cara just reached into her purse, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a Zippo gold and silver lighter, and made a dramatic show of lighting up and taking a long drag. She then began to drum her perfectly manicured black enameled nails on the round table before she began to speak.
"Right. Are you quite finished, because if I've got to explain this bloody mess, I don't want a word out of you while I do it." Cara raised an eyebrow at Buffy.
Buffy blinked in surprise, but shook her head, indicating that she had nothing more to say at the moment.
"Now if you all could bloody well keep your mouths closed for more than a second you would know why you bloody well can't kill the Beast. And that is because its host is human."
"Uh...what do you mean by host?" Willow asked in a timid manner.
Cara gave her a small smile. "Now that is the sort of interruption we can work with. Simple, luv - think of every cliché sci-fi or horror movie, comic, or T.V. show you've ever seen. The host is the human whose body's been nicked."
"But wouldn't that mean you could kill it, because this Beast would have to hollow out his host? It wouldn't be human anymore - it'd be a monster."
"Normally you'd be right, luv, but not all hosts lose themselves completely, or die. Look at vampires, for example. Still a good bit of humanity in them..."
"Vampires are evil. The person they were before they were turned dies and that's that." Buffy stated in a tone of firm conviction of her own correctness.
"Well aren't you a bloody savant! What was I thinking when I wrote my thesis? I should have come here and asked you all about it! Oh, wait - the fact that you were ten when I wrote my thesis doesn't give you much credibility, now, does it? As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, not all hosts lose their human qualities. Vampires for instance. The host's body dies, and parts of the soul vacate the body, but not enough to lose the essence of the person before they were turned. But according to the prophesy, it seems that the human the Beast has inhabited is completely human, with the odd occasion of its being taken over by the beast, when it takes on its true form."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Couldn't you do better that?"
"Actually, *Betty*, that's the best anyone has done in 2000 years. Unless you can contribute anything useful, then just sod off!"
"I think it would be best if we discuss this tomorrow - maybe after you recover from your jet lag?" Giles said, trying to diffuse the situation between the two blonds.
"You might want to check your info. I don't sleep. As for discussion, it's not me with the problem. Miss Carol over there can't keep her trap shut for more than a bleedin' second to get the full story, now, can she?" Cara said, throwing Buffy an annoyed glare, which came off more sinister than she intended it, due to the smoke that came out of her flared nostrils.
"Why don't you say what you came here to say then?" Buffy demanded huffily.
"You'll keep you gob shut?"
When Buffy nodded her head Cara took a deep breath and began to speak.
"Right then. The prophesy so far talks of the twice chosen slayer...which would be you considerin' the fact that you died and lived -- and were effectively called -- twice. You are to face the Beast with the help of some champion or the like; you are meant to protect the dawn or the world will be sucked into a rather nasty form of hell. There's more and that's why I'm here. Travers and I figured if anyone can help translate a prophesy, it would be Rupert and Wes. So here I am in America."
"That's all you wanted to say?" Buffy asked incredulously.
Cara looked at Giles and tilted her head, as the Scoobies watched the silent discussion that passed between the two. Giles was the first to break eye contact, and with a weary sigh took off his glasses and began to wipe them.
"You didn't by any chance hear the other name she mentioned?"
"Yeah, Wes, what of it? Some other watcher will be in Sunnydale. As long as he stays out of my way and doesn't tell me what to do, we'll be good. I mean, he couldn't be any worse than Mr. Stick-Up-the-Ass Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."
Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and Cara smirked.
"You can't honestly be that blond, luv? Wes is short for Wesley. Guess you lot can all play catch up. I think his being here would mean his boss would be here as well? Oh well...what kind of watcher would I be if I passed up a chance to get up close and personal with the vampire with a soul? I'll be seeing you all soon."
Cara picked up her bags and blew Buffy a kiss as she walked out the door, unable to suppress her laugh at the fish out of water look Buffy was now wearing.
'Suddenly, the Hellmouth seems a lot more interesting. Now to find the real fun...'
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