Buffy wiped sweat from her forehead and panted, exhausted. The target in front of her had been bulls-eyed so many times she didn't she'd be able to fit another arrow in the center.
Wouldn't mind trying, she thought with a grim smile.
"Well, Buffy, this is -- much better," Frances said, somewhat grudgingly. Her extreme chill toward Buffy earlier in the day was fading in light of actual evidence that her charge truly could slay.
"This is much more my style," Buffy said. "Really."
"We shall see," Frances said. She raised her voice and said, "That will be all for today. You're free to do as you please."
"A bath!" Xiaoting exulted.
"A nap," Agatha sighed.
"Privacy," Noor muttered.
"So, do I get my own version of the tour?" Buffy said.
Frances smiled a little stiffly, then looked around the room, perhaps seeking another guide -- any other guide. But the various Watchers were already headed out the door. "Ah. Certainly. What would you like to see?"
"The general lay of the land would be nice."
Buffy started braiding her sweaty hair back from her face as Frances led her out the door. "The Keep is far too vast a complex to be comprehensively toured in a day. Or even a week, I should say. But I can explain the basics for you. What little livestock we have is chambered in the basement areas. And you've already seen the heart of the Chamber, near ground level."
"Got that," Buffy said. "What else is down there?"
"Storage, mostly. Warehousing space. Workshops. The library and the reliquary." Frances' stern expression softened a little. "I used to work in the reliquary, when I was younger. Quiet, musty old place, but fascinating. You wouldn't believe the artifacts we have down there --" Her voice trailed off, as though she were lost in thought.
"Relics from days of yore, huh? Seems like I was one of them," Buffy said.
Frances was all business again in an instant. "Higher up we have the training rooms and the schoolrooms for the young ones."
"Kids?" Buffy said. That seemed an unexpectedly cheerful aspect to this place, but it made sense. "The Watchers' children live here too."
"Well, of course," Frances said. "Though we do try to keep them from running underfoot. What I was referring to, though, were the young women. The Slayers yet to be called."
"What -- they're here? You have a -- school for Slayers?"
"The world's far too risky a place to leave future Slayers to chance. The Council's always made an effort to find girls who may be called one day, to begin their training early. Now we also bring the girls here to live."
"Their parents okay with that?" Buffy frowned.
"Buffy -- no parent would want anything but the safety of the Keep for their child. Not in these times."
And if she could've sent Dawn to Thailand, to Jupiter, to Narnia, to keep her safe from Glory, wouldn't she have done it? Buffy said, "I understand."
"We bring them as soon as they're found," Frances said. "And they remain here until they are called or until they turn 18."
"18?" Buffy said, tensing slightly at the memory of that birthday, and the test that had accompanied it. Frances seemed unaware of any reason for discomfort.
"If a girl's not been called by her 18th birthday, she will never be. Very few are called even after 17, but we hang on that extra year to be sure."
Buffy's steps slowed as she considered what Frances had said. "Some of them -- they don't get called."
"Of course not," Frances said. "There are always twenty or thirty girls with the potential at any given time. But if the current Slayer lives long enough, then some of those girls will age beyond the point of being Called while she serves."
Weird, Buffy thought. To prepare your whole life for this, and just have it not happen. Maybe as weird as having it happen when you weren't prepared at all. "What do you do with them then? Just toss them out with the trash?"
"That's uncalled for," Frances said severely. "The girls are free to do as they wish. Some of them do become Watchers, you know. Ishak's mother Shireen was one of those."
And the others? Buffy thought. Were they free to just go out into the nightmare and make their way? The topic was too depressing to pursue. "So you have them all here. For school and training."
"That's right," Frances said. "Well, we have almost all of them. We try very hard to be comprehensive with our searches, but transportation and communication between nations -- that's tricky. Even between cities, sometimes. But we've not missed a Slayer for a few decades now."
"Bully for you," Buffy said. They got into a lift, which began rising. "And we are now headed up to the living areas, which look totally like a Marriott, only less joyful and unique."
"You don't like your quarters," Frances said. "Too plain for you? You'd rather have a corner in one of the few buildings beyond the Keep with power and security? They sleep six to a room in there, or so I'm told."
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Okay, they look better to me now. But, jeez, hang some paintings or something --"
"Anyway, we aren't headed to the living areas," Frances said. "We're going to the very top."
"And what's up there?" Buffy said tiredly.
The doors swooshed open, and Buffy gasped. Frances couldn't resist a little smile. "Welcome to the gardens."
The entire ceiling of the Keep was domed in glass, the various panes and angles casting warm rays of light down into the tiers of gardens below. Buffy stepped out of the lift onto the lowest level -- an orchard of fruit trees, hung with peaches and pears and apples like the one Buffy had stolen at breakfast. The ground around the rim sloped up to form rings of ascending height up to the very top of the building, sort of like this weird art museum her mom had dragged her to once on a long-ago trip to New York.
Buffy breathed in deeply; she hadn't realized, until this moment, how antiseptic and artificial the Keep smelled. It was -- too clean. Blank. Devoid of feeling. But this place smelled like fruit and grass and dirt and fertilizer, and it was wonderful. Even the fertilizer.
"Amazing," she said.
"It's lovely, isn't it?" Frances said softly. "We're not totally self-sustaining, of course. There are granaries outside of town. But this supplies most of our daily diet."
"Granaries," Buffy said. "You mean, like, wheat fields and silos and stuff?" When Frances nodded, Buffy said, "How come the vamps don't trash them? Seems like it would be pretty easy to send them up in smoke --"
"Why would they?" Frances said. "If we don't eat, they don't eat."
"Your point is made," Buffy said. She looked down at the thick grass beneath her feet and stifled the urge to take off her shoes, to feel the cool blades between her toes.
"We'll get you a look at the schoolrooms, maybe a couple of the workshops," Frances said. "I expect you'll find the library soon enough. But I thought -- maybe -- you'd want to see this."
"You were right," Buffy said. "Thanks, Frances. I mean it."
Frances actually looked a little bashful as she led Buffy back into the lift.
**
When the tour was done, Buffy headed back to her room. She had only an hour or two before her -- what? Date? Appointment? Meeting, she decided. Her meeting with Angel. She was going to need that time to get her head together. It wasn't like she could put on anything special, not unless she just wanted to wrap a bolt of cloth around her for a toga.
Please, she thought. Let's not scare the man any more than necessary.
As she came down her hallway -- at least, she thought it was her hallway -- she heard Xiaoting's voice. "There you are!"
She turned around to see Xiaoting jogging toward her. "They've got us all on the same hallway. Can't imagine who they moved to pull that off."
"Cool," Buffy said with a very genuine smile that surprised her. Though she wasn't at all sorry to have some space to herself -- sleeping in the same room with four other people weirded her out -- she was glad her fellow Slayers would be close by. After all, she thought, this is about 50 percent of the people I know on the entire planet.
"Agatha's got the best view of all," Xiaoting said. "Come see."
Agatha did have a brilliant view, as it turned out; through the various skyscrapers and walkways, there was still a view of Big Ben, now about at eye level. "Wow," Buffy said. "Bet this looks amazing after dark. If any of the buildings light up, I mean."
"It's somewhat depressing, though," Agatha said. "I was always so fond of Hyde Park, and it's all gone for this beastly place."
"Looks a little plain to you, too," Buffy said.
"Terribly," Agatha sighed from her place on her sofa. She had propped up some pillows so that the effect was more like that of a chaise longue. "The walls and ceiling are this horrid blank white, and the woodwork's not carved, and there's no pictures or sculptures or crystals on the shelves. It's utterly barren."
"Westerners," Xiaoting scoffed. "This place is gorgeous. All creamy and light."
"Where are Sumiko and Noor?" Buffy asked.
"Noor said she'd be along in a second," Xiaoting answered. "Personally, I think she's putting off having to deal with us again for as long as she can."
"Don't be unkind," Agatha said. "She's not used to sharing her space. Perhaps she had no sisters."
"Like that would explain her attitude," Xiaoting said. "And Sumiko -- well, she's still in a bit of a snit about Angel, isn't she? Thought it might be better just to have you."
"She doesn't understand," Buffy said softly. "It's a hard thing to understand, without words."
"She'll catch on eventually," Xiaoting said cheerfully. "A month or two goes by and Angel hasn't eaten anyone, and she'll get the idea."
"Do you think they ever have musicales?" Agatha asked. "If not, our afternoons may prove rather dull --"
The door chimed, and Agatha said, "Come in!" Buffy grinned, realizing that Agatha must have already gotten the swing of the technology.
Noor walked in, somewhat awkwardly. "What is this view you spoke of?"
"Take a look," Xiaoting said, gesturing expansively toward the window. "Isn't that marvelous?"
"It is buildings," Noor said. "Why do we want to look at buildings?"
Xiaoting sighed. "You could find a lump of coal at the bottom of a diamond mine, couldn't you?"
"Have a seat," Agatha said politely. "I'd offer you tea, but there doesn't seem to be any in the cupboards or the big cool box."
"England without tea," Buffy said. "The times, they are a changin'."
"We should discuss tactics," Noor said. "Compare methods. We have much to learn from each other."
"Don't you think about anything besides work?" Xiaoting asked.
"Noor has a point," Agatha said quickly. She sat up on her sofa. "We could learn from one another, I'm sure."
"Xiaoting can share her fashion advice," Noor said acidly. Xiaoting bristled.
Buffy quickly said, "Oh, no, definitely! I mean, we're supposed to be the biggest, baddest Slayers of them all, right? So we can help each other get badder. Though preferably not bigger."
"You could stand to put on a few pounds, dearest," Agatha said conspiratorially.
"Fine, then," Xiaoting sighed. She plopped down on the floor, sitting Indian-style. "What Slayery tips can we share?"
Noor seemed pleased to have won the day. "I have found it is useful to treat one's stakes. Soak them in water consecrated to the Christian church, or sometimes in the venom of a Velga demon. Anything that can affect the vampire. The stake retains the properties for many hours, sometimes, and the holy water will burn from within the wound. This way, if you cannot get a clear blow to the heart, you can still strike and do considerable damage. More than the stake alone would do."
Buffy thought about that for a second. "That's actually pretty cool."
"Sure, if you plan on missing the heart," Xiaoting said. "I generally don't miss."
"Well, then, as you are so wise, what advice do you have?" Noor said, folding her arms across her chest.
"I used to have the most marvelous whip of razor wire," Xiaoting said wistfully. "I could behead a vamp at ten feet, in about two seconds. We should ask if they still make razor wire because, let me tell you, that was the easiest way to do it."
"Rather gruesome, but effective," Agatha said, obviously still anxious to smooth over the conversation.
"You've heard of razor wire?" Buffy asked.
"Not before now, but the name is very descriptive," Agatha said. "For myself, I always found holy water very useful. And I discovered that it's possible to make more --"
"If you carry a priest along with you on patrols," Xiaoting said.
"Not at all. As it so happens, you can pour a small amount of holy water, a regular vial, into a larger amount of water and, in effect, consecrate the whole."
"Get real," Buffy scoffed. "I could pour a vial of holy water in the Atlantic Ocean and bless the whole thing?"
'Oh, no," Agatha said. "Not that much. Perhaps a bathtub full, no more. I -- I tried a thermal bath once. No effect. That's -- that's how I -- "
Her voice trailed off, and an awkward silence fell over the room. Finally, Noor asked, "What about you, Buffy?"
Buffy thought hard. "Well, if you're ever slaying in a nightclub, you should consider both pool cues and cymbals as potential slaying tools."
The other three were staring at her blankly. Buffy tried again. "Uh -- if you have, like, a carousel unicorn around, the horn works for staking?"
"This is not very likely," Noor said. Even Xiaoting and Agatha looked nonplussed.
"My innovations tended to be more on-the-spot type stuff," Buffy said. "I'm good at the improv. I swear."
"We believe you," Agatha said gently.
"Almost sundown," Xiaoting said, with a shrug at the window. The light behind Big Ben was going very warm and golden.
"Oh, jeez," Buffy said. "I have to get ready."
"Your big date with Angel," Xiaoting said, singsonging the name.
"It's not a date," Buffy said. "Emphatically not a date. It's -- a meeting."
"Of course it is," Agatha said with a little smile.
Even Noor looked amused.
**
March 23, 2353
Frances gave me another of her patented "Bad Naughty Evil Slayer" looks when I asked for more paper, but she handed it over. She probably thinks I'm in here trying some kind of voodoo to make her frizzy hair fall out. If I knew how to do it, believe me, she'd be ordering some Rogaine in a hurry.
Okay, she's not that bad. She was almost kind of friendly today for a little while, once she saw that I could slay for real. But she still gets on my last nerve. I'm going to learn to handle it, though.
I'm going to learn to handle all of this. I still don't like it here, and I still miss everybody so badly it hurts. Physically hurts, like I'd been hollowed out. But I don't want to end it anymore. I guess I want to see if I can deal.
Like, I'm so mad at Markwith I could scream, but I'm trying to cope. Trying not to let my heart rule my head, like Giles would tell me to do. Yeah, Markwith hates Angel. But so did Xander, and that didn't make him a terrible person. Xander was just a guy who saw things in black and white. Sometimes that was a good thing. Maybe Markwith's the same way.
Doesn't mean I don't feel like smacking him.
Anyway, even if he did bring me back here to mess with Angel's head, he's in for a big surprise. I mean, we're grown-ups. I'm 20 years old, and Angel's -- wow -- pushing 600. That's kinda just sinking in. Wow. Amend Angel to being VERY grown-up.
The point is, we've both changed a lot since we were those people so crazy in love. I've grown up a lot. Lost a lot. And Angel's changed way more than I have, I bet. I mean, 350 years. That's a long time. Way longer than I can even imagine. So I don't guess he feels the same about me anymore. It's weird, but I don't even know how to think about an Angel who -- just say it -- doesn't love me anymore. I don't even know who that guy is. But I shouldn't feel hurt because he moved on. After three centuries, you gotta move on, right?
I keep telling myself that. But it's hard. I mean, for me it was just weeks ago when we were holding each other at Lawndale Cemetary. I told him I wanted him to stay with me forever, and he wanted to stay so bad. I could see it in his eyes. And then we started kissing. God, kissing him after two whole years felt so good --
Okay. Bad line of thought. The point is, I've still got all these old emotions mixed up inside of me. Angel and I had been split up for a while at that point, and I'm still not sure how much of what happened after Mom's funeral was because of love and how much was just fear. That sounds so bad to say, but I think it's true. What if I was just scared? What if I just didn't want to be alone? And, though I would not have thought this was possible, I'm even more scared now than I was then.
I know I do still love him. I mean, that's not something that's gonna change. But if love were enough, we'd have been okay in the first place. And we weren't. We were already mixed-up and confused, and this situation is pretty much guaranteed not to make things better. So I'm not just gonna grab onto him like he was a life preserver or something. That's not going to fix anything. I just have to deal. I have to take what he can give me. Understanding. Friendship.
Answers.
*