"We -- are -- Slayers. Slay -- Ers," Agatha repeated, still more slowly. Sumiko looked at her a little sadly, but made no effort to repeat the words.
"She's not having any of it," Xiaoting said. "Give up already."
"Well, it's maddening, isn't it?" Agatha grumbled as the smoothed her braided hair. "I mean, how can one not wish to learn the language?"
"Maybe she does not wish to hear people lecturing her day and night," Noor suggested. "I understand this wish very well."
Buffy sighed and tried once again to meet Sumiko's gaze; Sumiko dropped her head to avoid eye contact. Apparently Sumiko wasn't going to forgive Angel's presence without an explanation -- and she wasn't likely to understand an explanation anytime soon. To her surprise, Buffy felt a quick sting of loss. Silent though Sumiko was, she was the closest thing to a friend Buffy had among her fellow Slayers. Operative word, Buffy thought: Was.
The door to their waiting room slid open, and Sky walked through. To judge by the swagger in her step and the way she looked down her nose at them, she seemed to have substituted her old sulk with fresh attitude. "S'pose you lot are ready, then? Or still primping with your hair?"
Agatha bristled. Xiaoting folded her arms. Buffy, who understood young teenage girls very well after studying Dawn 101, smiled broadly at this sign of good spirits. "I think we're all done with our hairstyles, thanks," she said. "Except Noor, maybe."
Beneath her head wrap, Noor gave Buffy one of her half-amused scowls.
"Right, then. Let's get into the Chamber," Sky said. "They'll be getting ready to show you off any second now, so let's put on our parade."
"How are they going to do this in the Chamber?" Noor asked as they all got to their feet. "This seems a strange place."
Xiaoting added, "I was wondering that myself. What are they going to do? Show in the populace 200 at a time?"
Sky laughed. "Didn't they tell ya? Oh, you girls are in for quite a treat."
Agatha glanced over at Buffy, who shrugged.
As they entered the swinging wooden doors to the Chamber, Buffy's confusion increased; to her, it looked like the same collection of Watchers that she'd seen two days previously, complete with Ishak in his elevated chair. She quickly cast her eyes up to the place where she'd seen Angel before. He was there, and when their eyes met, she gave him a quick smile. His face didn't even move: he just looked worried and tense. Buffy felt her spirits take a sudden dip.
Ishak smiled down at them as the lights around them brightened to a startling degree. "At last we are ready," he said. "Let the ceremony begin."
"Ceremony?" Agatha said -- then cried, "Dear Lord!" Beside her, Sumiko jumped and uttered a wordless yelp.
The ceiling had split apart.
Buffy, veteran of Southern California's seismic instability, automatically started looking for the best doorway to stand in. But in another instant, she realized that the domed ceiling was intended to split. It was sliding apart to reveal --
Oh, God, Buffy thought.
Thousands. Thousands upon thousands of people.
The Council Chamber was, in fact, only the center of an even vaster amphitheater -- one now filled by thousands of the drab-garbed people she'd seen in her trek through London.
Once, years ago, back when he was still married to her mother and took some interest in her life, Buffy's father had done some legal work for the Los Angeles Rams; he'd made friends with his clients, as a savvy lawyer should, and had received some special passes. Though Buffy's interest in football was approximately as vast as her interest in the migratory habits of the giant auk, she had leaped at the chance to go to the game and spend time alone with her dad. He had been able to take her onto the sidelines, right there in the center of the stadium. Buffy hadn't really been impressed by her proximity to players she didn't know and a game she didn't understand; however, she could still remember that feeling of awe at looking up and seeing tens of thousands of people, all packed together in one living, swirling, screaming mass.
This, Buffy decided, was much the same thing. Except that the people weren't looking at the Rams; they were looking at her. And instead of screaming, they were eerily quiet.
"Goodness gracious," Agatha whispered.
"Allah akbar," Noor breathed.
"Damn," Buffy said.
"People of London!" Ishak said, his voice suddenly ringing out, magisterial, echoing within the enormous theater. "We have good news for you today. Perhaps the best news we have ever been able to offer you. You have long benefited from the protection of a Slayer." He gestured grandly at Sky, who held herself even taller. "Now, you will benefit from the protection of five more Slayers -- five of the greatest Slayers in all history!"
As if cued, the people began to cheer. And scream. And leap. This is nothing like the Rams, Buffy thought; this is WAY better than the Rams ever got. This -- is -- amazing.
Something inside her swelled at those cheers; that dark, frightened place inside her, the place even Angel couldn't fill, seemed to be bathed in warm, golden light. Buffy lifted her chin, felt the rush of hope and welcome raise her up.
Ishak began going through his spiel, glossing over the messy explanation about how they got there by listing their various noble deeds. Buffy heard, as though in a daze, her own name, her own acts. The Master -- Drusilla -- the Ascension -- the Gentlemen --
"She alone kept the peace in the most dangerous place on earth," Ishak said, his hand raised up as if holding a weapon. "She alone defeated the mightiest vampires of her day. She alone prevented the demons from conquering all humanity --"
Wait, Buffy thought. That's not right. I did it, but I didn't do any of it alone.
And with that the spell broke. The warm light flickered out, and once again she was just a lonely person in the middle of a large, scary cacophony. Buffy felt the blissed-out grin leave her face and tried to fight back the rage she knew threatened to replace it.
What about Giles? she thought. I couldn't have done any of it without Giles. Or Willow -- she's the one who got the info we needed about the Mayor and kept Glory back. And what if Xander hadn't given me CPR? The Master would've walked. Ishak is forgetting my friends, all the ones who helped, even Angel, who's standing right here. Ishak ought to tell them about my friends --
But that, she realized, would break the spell for those people. They needed to believe in something larger than life. And she had been just moments from believing it herself.
She glanced up at Angel again. His expression could only be described as one of profound relief. This time, when she gave him a weak little smile, he smiled back.
Ishak was finishing his spiel about Xiaoting now, raising his arms as his chair rose just a little higher. "Tonight, they will walk among you! Tonight, they will all work to protect you! Tonight, we will begin to win this war!"
The cheering went from loud to deafening, and Buffy wanted to run through those wooden doors back to safety. Instead, she forced herself to look at the other Slayers. Sky, Xiaoting and Agatha looked the way she must have looked herself, just a few moments before -- grinning, triumphant. Sumiko, too, was smiling, although she understandably looked a little more dazed. But Noor was scowling more deeply than ever.
Buffy forced herself to stand straight as the lights dimmed and the ceiling began to swing shut once more.
********
"You've two hours until patrol," Frances fussed as the Slayers were ushered back toward the living areas of the Keep. "You should eat and get partnered up."
"Partners?" Xiaoting said. Her voice was still slightly dreamy.
"You don't expect to patrol alone, do you?" Frances asked. "Far too risky. Normally, we will accompany you as your Watchers. But the Council thought it would be good for you girls to partner one another tonight. Early on, before the sun's entirely set, you won't get much slaying done anyway. People will be so eager to meet you."
"Perhaps we should have arranged a reception line," Agatha said in the same dazed tone.
"If all this publicity makes it harder for us to slay, what's the point?" Buffy said. Nobody seemed to hear.
"Keeling, a moment, please?" Frances wheeled around from them and lit up upon seeing Ishak approaching, splendid in his robes despite his age and small size.
"Ishak. Of course, sir. What did you want to speak about?"
"Not you, Keeling," he said, kindly enough. "Buffy. If she's got a moment."
"Nothing but time," Buffy shrugged. When Ishak and Frances kept looking at her blankly, she sighed. "Yes, I have a moment. Many moments."
"The -- the Slayers do need to eat," Frances said uncertainly.
"Then I'll have her supper brought to my Hall. How's that?"
"Fine by me," Buffy said. She went to Ishak's side and walked with him slowly down the corridor. People who passed them were staring openly, some vaguely awestruck; if Buffy hadn't just been through the ceremony in the Chamber, she would have been flattered. Instead, she muttered to Ishak, "I didn't do it alone."
"What's that?"
"All that slaying and protecting I did. You kept saying I did it alone. But I had a lot of help. My Watcher, and Angel, and all my friends."
"I don't doubt that," Ishak said, gesturing as they came to a door. She thought he was pointing at it grandly, but then she realized he was holding his palm to a lock. The door slid open to reveal a room with a long table and big chairs, a cross between a boardroom and a dining hall. He motioned to one of the chairs -- not the head -- and Buffy took her seat. He placed himself at the head of the table, though it appeared they would be dining alone.
"If you didn't doubt it, why didn't you say it?" Buffy persisted.
"The explanations are complex," Ishak said. "And it is difficult to communicate a complexity to thousands of screaming people."
"They manage just fine on the Lilith Tour," Buffy said. "I mean, when Sarah McLachlan sings 'Full of Grace,' my mind goes some amazing places --" At Ishak's puzzled expression, she sighed. "I just think we should tell the truth."
"You're a wonderful Slayer, Buffy. That's the main truth we wanted to tell about you and your friends."
Buffy was confused until she realized that, by "friends," he meant the other Slayers. "So, what's with the dinner invite? Is this a date?" she quipped. Then she felt a little queasy. "Is it?" Buffy repeated weakly.
To her vast relief, Ishak laughed as a woman came in, bearing their suppers on a tray. "Good heavens, no. You could be my granddaughter. Also, I rather had the idea that you were, shall we say, spoken for."
"Spoken for?" Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Not exactly."
"Then there is no relationship between you and Angel?"
Buffy hesitated, then took a couple bites of salad to buy time. Ishak watched her carefully, his bushy eyebrows not concealing a sharp, penetrating gaze. She said, "That's what this is about, then. Angel. You guys are -- what? Coworkers? Friends?"
"Friends?" Ishak said. He sounded surprised. "I do not think I can claim such. He has known me all my life -- knew my mother all her life as well. Angel held me in his hands on the day of my birth. I do not pretend to understand him -- he is a difficult man to truly know -- but I value his judgment. His perspective is one worth having on the Council I think we need to hear the things Angel has to say."
"So far we're on the same page," Buffy said. "Except for the whole day-of-my-birth thing, which now that I think about it was technically possible, so I won't think about it again. But why the relationship chat?"
Ishak looked at her carefully. "You realize that Angel has few friends in this Keep."
"That was starting to sink in."
"Did you not wonder why?"
"He never was Mr. Sociability," Buffy said. "But, yeah, the situation seems a little extreme. I thought -- I thought maybe Markwith had something to do with that."
"No, no. Markwith is an intelligent man -- resourceful, if perhaps too brash. His animosity toward Angel is a sickness he caught from others on the Council. Angel's isolation goes back before Markwith was born. Before I was born."
"But you're, like, 80!" Buffy said. Ishak looked a little wounded, but Buffy hurried on. "Angel's been an outcast all that time? I thought he helped the Council --"
"He does. He has for more than three centuries," Ishak said. "That is all that protects him now."
"Why do people hate him so much?" Buffy whispered. She was remembering the warmth in Angel's eyes when he'd spoken of Wesley and Cordelia. She'd never seen him like that -- happy and relaxed in the memory of friendship -- and it stung her to think that he'd spent a century cut off from it. Again.
"Angel is a vampire," Ishak said. "For most people, in this day and age -- when our entire lives are dominated by the terror of his kind -- that is all that need be said. They do not care to hear about his soul. They remember what he has done. They think he could do it again."
"Can't you change that?" Buffy said. "You're the Big Kahuna in these parts."
"Such colorful expressions you use. No, I cannot force others to see Angel as I see him. I continue to give him a place here. But it appears that is not enough. I sometimes fear that my position is not enough to protect him."
The concern on his face was genuine, and Buffy felt her stomach lurch. "They wouldn't hurt him?"
"Directly? I think not. But always, there is talk of casting him out of the Council. Some people out there distrust us all just because he is among us."
Buffy shook her head. "They're not casting him out while I'm around. Unless they cast me out too --"
"So," Ishak said. "You are not spoken for." When Buffy scowled at him, he looked at her with a shade of the authority he had displayed in the Chamber. "You care for Angel. I understand this. But I asked you here to warn you about his situation, how uncertain it is."
"I can help him," Buffy said. "If -- if everyone's jamming on the Slayer-Hall-of-Fame idea, then maybe they'll cut him some slack because of me."
"The other Council members are more likely to suspect him of corrupting you," Ishak said. "Your story has been told in many ways, though the years. Some people no doubt still see it as a romantic story. But most now hear it as a cautionary tale. You are the Slayer Angel seduced, betrayed and abandoned. They think he is here from guilt about your death. And now that this guilt has been removed --"
"That is not true," Buffy said, surprised at the chill in her own voice. "I cannot even start counting the ways in which that is not true. And if anybody wants to say differently, I dare them to come say it to my face." She realized that her fingers were tightening around her fork.
"Perhaps you can change their minds," Ishak said slowly. "You are clearly a -- determined young woman. But I wished only to warn you. Your association with Angel may do him more harm than good. I have already warned him to stay away from you --"
"Hey!" Buffy protested.
"-- but, of course, Angel would not listen. He said that you were all alone in the world, and that he would not deny you any help or comfort he could offer." Buffy was surprised how much that simple promise touched her. "You would do him the most good by not needing his help or his comfort. If you wish to protect Angel, you will have better luck doing so as a friend than a lover. His situation is unstable enough without anything so -- volatile -- as resuming your past romance."
Buffy looked down at the few remaining leaves of her salad. Everything Ishak had said made sense. Hadn't Xander thrown it in her face often enough, when she argued on Angel's behalf? "You just want your boyfriend back." No matter how many times she told him he was wrong, he never believed her. And she was never sure she believed it herself.
Besides, she told herself, it's not like me and Angel were exactly picking up where we left off. No, scratch that. We picked up exactly where we left off -- broken up for good. So I can have a normal life, here in the 24th century with the plagues and the vamps and the Slayer Superdome.
Buffy finished her meal and carefully placed her fork beside the bowl. When she looked back up at Ishak, he was smiling at her with a gentle, paternal expression that she didn't doubt for a moment. "It's not something you have to worry about," Buffy said. "Not anymore."
"Very good," Ishak said.
*******
"I told them I wanted you for my partner," Noor said.
Xiaoting and Agatha gave Buffy sympathetic glances across the training room. Buffy quickly turned to Sky and said, "So, how does this work?"
"I take the chatterbox here toward the north of town," Sky said, with a half-nod toward Sumiko. Xiaoting and Agatha head east. You and Noor go west. Be nice to all your screaming fans."
"Jealousy is so unattractive," Xiaoting said, with a quick flip of her hair.
Sky pretended not to hear. "Try and get yourself away from the crowds to do some Slaying. Prob'ly you won't get much chance the early part of the evening, before the sun's down. But maybe you can at least get the lay of the land."
"Good advice," Buffy said, and Sky actually smiled a little.
Frances poked her head through the door. "All right, then. Let's get you ladies armed."
A few minutes later, Buffy looked down at her body and sighed. "You have got to be kidding me."
She had a longbow in her arms, a blaster strapped to one hip, a flask of holy water strapped to the other and a quiverful of arrows slung across her back. She was allowed a stake, though she was warned severely that it was for emergencies only. For timekeeping, they had inexplicably been given pocketwatches; Buffy was fairly sure hers was older than she was. Her body felt weighed down beyond the point of slaying. "Are we getting kaiser helmets too?"
"We could see about helmets if you'd like," Frances said.
"Joking!" Buffy said.
The Slayers split up into their separate groups and headed for the various exits. Once Noor and Buffy were alone, Noor murmured, "I do not wish to meet my screaming fans."
"Me either," Buffy admitted.
They glanced sideways at each other, but kept moving down the hall. After another moment, Buffy said, "No offense, but it's gonna be weird, patrolling with a partner."
"I do not intend to patrol with a partner," Noor said. "Nor do you. Why do you think I picked you?"
"Tact is not your strong suit, is it?"
"I do not need tact. I need peace and quiet and this longbow."
"I knew I liked you," Buffy said.
"The south exit, then?"
"Race ya."
********
The crowds clustered at the west exit were no doubt disappointed, but Buffy didn't care. She and Noor were able to get into the thick of the city undetected. As soon as they reached a secluded corner, Noor glanced over at her and said, "We should meet here when we are through."
"Four hours gonna do it?"
Noor nodded and, with startling speed and silence, disappeared into the twilight. Buffy sighed deeply, taking in the cool night air. It was clear and crisp. Like being in the mountains instead of a city. "This is not how I thought we'd take care of pollution," she muttered as she began her patrol.
The sun was setting, and by the time Buffy finally saw some people, they weren't clamoring for the attention of a Slayer -- they were hurrying to their homes. They moved faster as it got darker.
And Buffy began to sense other things moving in the dark -- things that weren't people. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a not-unwelcome jolt of adrenaline. Finally, something that felt familiar --
A furry shape bounded by, hunched in an alleyway. Its greenish eyes reflecting the moonlight back at her, and she heard a faint growl. Buffy longed to rush forward, but forced herself to remember the longbow. With one fluid move, she pulled it into position, aiming by instinct. The demon leaped toward her -- and into her arrow. Buffy smiled as the demon's body flopped to the ground. Then she frowned. "Note to self: ask about cleanup crew."
She considered for a long moment, then took up her blaster and fired. The demon burst into satisfying flames. "Cancel note to self."
Three hours and five dead baddies later, Buffy decided she had the hang of the new slaying style. The longbow was significantly less fun than the classic kick-and-punch, and the blaster was a lot more useful after the slaying than during, but she could still function. And, regardless of the methods, it was always satisfying to see a demon go limp or a vampire go poof. She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction as she strolled past the crumbling remains of the Victoria and Albert Museum. See, she said to herself, I can still slay with the best of 'em. Just took me a while to get my groove back, that's all.
A rustling behind her sent a cold thrill up her spine. "Groove later," she murmured. "Slay now."
She whirled around to see a gray-cloaked figure emerging from the dark. As fast as she could think, Buffy had the longbow aimed and fired.
A slim hand caught the arrow in midair, the point just inches from his chest. "Quick," said a cultured voice. "But I am quicker."
"Kean," Buffy said. It was not a question.
"Bravo!" he said, and as he drew his hood back from his face, she could see him smiling -- almost beaming. He was tall -- not so tall as Sky, but not far off -- and his body was so thin and angular that he appeared to have been stretched. His reddish hair began at a line that had receded back somewhat from his face, creating a sharp widow's peak in the process. He had angular cheekbones, a weak chin and a rather long nose. Buffy absently decided that he looked like a cross between a handsome man and a stork.
"So, my reputation precedes me," Kean said. "Am I so feared within the mighty Council Keep?"
"Sorry to disappoint you," Buffy said. "You just came up in passing."
Kean's face fell, and for one absurd moment Buffy almost felt bad. But he regained his aplomb quickly. "A likely story. I know well what they make of me there. They didn't bring five Slayers back from the dead because they felt safe."
"They didn't bring them back to worry about a costume-party reject," Buffy said. "What's with the cape, Superman?"
"Nietzche," Kean murmured. "An educated foe. This will be thrilling." He held his cloak out, and Buffy realized, with a start, that it was actually a shroud. "This is far more than it appears, dear Slayer. Some enchantments were worked on it centuries ago, and now it allows me to move through sunlight. To wade in holy water. A garment of death protects my undeath. Isn't the irony delicious?"
"My diet's pretty rich in irony as it is," Buffy said. She let the longbow drop, took her stake in her hand. "So we're gonna do this the old-fashioned way?"
"Don't be vulgar. I didn't come here to fight you," Kean said.
"Then why are you introducing yourself to a Slayer in the dead of night?"
"To observe you," Kean said. "To see how you walk, how you move. To hear how you speak. I'd thought you were the Victorian, but you're not, are you?"
"Not hardly," she said. Then she thought, yeah, great, give the guy more information.
"Then you're Buffy," Kean said with a delighted laugh. "Angelus' Slayer! Oh, this is brilliant. People will eat this up."
"Does nobody in this century have anything else to worry about besides my love life?" Buffy snapped.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Kean said. "You just came up in passing." He pulled back a few steps and smiled once more. "I think I've got the picture now. I don't plan on meeting you again anytime soon, Slayer."
"I have different plans," Buffy said.
"I thought you might," Kean said.
He had vanished before the last words stopped echoing.
*