Main character: Giles
Spoilers: Gift
Rating: PG
Summary: A few weeks after Buffy's fall from the tower, Giles invites
Quentin Travers to Sunnydale to evaluate the recovering Slayer's
performance. Something's going on here . . . but who, exactly, is being
fooled? And why?
Potemkin Village
By Mediancat
-----
“You’re certain she’s up for this, Giles? So soon after what happened?”
Quentin Travers mopped his brow; it was 85 degrees and 95% humidity in
Sunnydale, California, even at night, but he insisted on wearing a full
tweed jacket and long dress slacks. As a result, he was about ten
minutes away from heat exhaustion.
“I’m sure,” Giles responded. Years of living in sweltering SoCal had
taught Rupert Giles that attempting to maintain that air of decorum at
all times was downright stupid, so he had on khakis and a short-sleeved
pullover. “That legendary Slayer healing factor.”
“She fell well over a hundred feet into a cord of two-by-fours,” was
Travers’ response. “I find it amazing that even a Slayer is able to get
up and walk four weeks later, much less be in any shape to fight off a
horde of vampires.”
Giles gave a small laugh. “Well, hordes, no,” he admitted. “But there’s
been something of a decline in the local troublemaker population of
late. It sometimes seems as though the forces of evil need a break as
much as we do. So far all we’ve encountered is a dozen vampires, an
irritable demon, and a motorcycle gang too much into sorcery for its own
good.” Then he paused. “Still, half of that has occurred in the last ten
days or so, once the vampires saw Buffy wasn’t making her usual rounds.”
In the distance, Willow and Buffy rounded the corner of the graveyard.
“What is the witch doing with her?” Travers asked.
“Well, Buffy hasn’t been at full strength, like you guessed,” Giles
said. “One of us has gone with her every night since she recovered to
help her. So far, it seems to be working.”
Wiping more sweat from his forehead, Travers said, “Well, let me be the
judge of that.” Buffy was noticeably hobbling. Willow whispered
something into her ear and she straightened. Turning to Giles, Travers
said, “Are you sure they don’t know we’re here?”
“I haven’t told a one of them,” Giles said.
Right then two vampires emerged from underground, hungry and mindless as
most newborns. Buffy spun in place, clearly favoring the leg, and lashed
out with a fist at one of them.
The vampire easily dodged it and leapt on top of her, slapping her
around. The other vampire went for Willow, but with a gesture from the
witch the vamp went flying up about twenty feet. When he landed Willow
made the same gesture, with the same result.
Meanwhile, Buffy was still having trouble with her opponent. The vampire
hadn’t drawn any blood yet, but Buffy had yet to score a decisive blow.
On Willow’s third blast of telekineses, the vampire cracked his skull
against a nearby tombstone and lay still. Willow turned her attention to
Buffy’s opponent and all of a sudden the vampire froze in place. From
there it was easy for Buffy to stake first that vampire, then the one
lying over the tombstone. She was breathing quite heavily, though.
“Nice job, Buffy,” Willow said.
Breathing heavily, Buffy said, “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it with
you, though.”
“How’s your leg?”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I can move on it.”
“I’ve seen quite enough,” Travers said. “Slayer! Come over here!” Buffy
and Willow started at that, then looked up. Buffy’s eyes narrowed and
she got a sour look on her face as she recognized Travers’ face
Giles hissed, “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“You invited me here to review her performance,” Travers said. “For the
moment it is unsatisfactory.” Then he added, “My experiences here make
me reluctant to intervene, but at the moment I fear I have no choice. At
least until she recovers.” By this time Buffy and Willow had walked up.
“What the hell do you want?” Buffy said.
“I was observing you fight out there,” Travers said. “Not your best
work.”
“I’ve lost a step,” Buffy said. “See how you are after slugging it out
with a goddess and then falling a hundred feet.”
Travers nodded. “Understood. And this is not a reflection on you, but I
honestly think we need to bring someone in here to cover the vicinity
until you’re up to fighting trim.”
“I’m the Slayer,” Buffy said. “I have a healing factor.”
“So you should be up to full strength in another two or three weeks,”
Travers said. “But look at you. You are limping badly and practically
panting.”
“So are you!” Willow said.
Travers fixed a steely-eyed gaze on her. “Young lady, I am an
out-of-shape sixty-year old man . . . apparently wearing far too many
clothes for this place and time,” he added, noting Willow and Buffy’s
shorts and t-shirts. “She is, however, the Slayer. A tussle with two
newborn vampires shouldn’t even cause her to break a sweat.” Noticing no
disagreement, Travers continued, “Therefore, I will be sending a
Watcher’s Council strike team here for the duration of your
recuperation. Don’t worry,” he said, “Your pet vampire will be off the
menu. We simply feel it best not to leave the Hellmouth unguarded for
that great a time.”
Buffy snorted. “I still can’t believe you’d be spying on me –“
A look of reluctance on his face, Giles said, “Actually, I sent for
them.”
Buffy and Willow spun and glared at Giles. “What?” they said at the same
time.
“I’m quite sorry,” Giles said. “But I wanted to make certain my judgment
wasn’t clouded. In watching your work, Buffy, I have to agree with Mr.
Travers – this is far from your best work.”
Now it was Travers’ turn to look surprised. “You’re agreeing with me?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Giles said. “I still don’t like you. But it would
be damned immature of me to argue with you just for the sake of
argument. However, I have a request.”
Ignoring Buffy’s whimpers of protests, Travers said, “And that is?”
“Do you know what a Potemkin Village is?”
Travers blinked, then shook his head no. “I’ve heard of it, but my
formal education was so long ago –“
“Well then,” Giles said. “There was once a Field Marshal of Imperial
Russia named Grigori Potemkin. He was one of Catherine the Great’s
closest advisors –“ At Willow’s startled look, he said, “Not THAT one.
In any event, one of Potemkin’s duties was to convince Catherine that
the country was in splendid shape and that the populace loved her. So on
tours of Russia he would arrange for whole fake villages to be set up,
complete with false-front buildings and mobs forced to cheer at
swordspoint, and these did the job of convincing Catherine that all was
indeed well in her empire.”
“Thanks for the history lesson, Giles, but what relevance does it have?”
“I don’t care how talented your strike force is,” Giles said, “If the
vampires see the Slayer out of commission for too long they’ll be more
active – as, indeed, will everything else that the Hellmouth attracts.
Her, they recognize. You –“
“I see your point,” Travers said. “You want her to still seem to be
doing most of the killing. A Potemkin Village for the vampires.”
“Precisely,” Giles said.
“I don’t see a problem with that,” Travers said. “Provided you’re up to
it, Miss Summers?” Buffy’s sneer was all the answer he got. “I’ll take
that as a sign that you’ll go along with it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I
really must get back and call the Council.”
“Translated,” Willow said, “You want to get back to your air-conditioned
car.”
“Precisely,” Travers said, bowing slightly. “Giles. Ladies.” And then he
walked away.
The three watched him until the car drove off. Then Buffy looked up and
said, “How’d I do, how’d I do?”
“You – you did fine,” Giles said wearily. “Now please, go back home. Do
what Dawn says.”
“Okay!” And the Buffy-bot moved chipperly away.
“I can barely stand to be near her,” Giles said. “I don’t know how Dawn
can –“
“Dawn’s a lot tougher than she sometimes seems, Giles,” Willow said.
“She fends for herself as much as she can; the robot’s only used for
when she needs adult representation. And now we have professionals here
patrolling while we work on improving it as much as we can. Spike’s gone
back to track the guy down who originally created her to see what we can
do making her a better fighter.”
“These are all only temporary solutions, you know,” Giles said.
“I know,” Willow sighed. “But the important thing is Dawn’s not being
ripped out of her home, and we’ll have someone here who can fight off
the vampires until we do manage to improve the robot.”
Giles paused thoughtfully. “Willow,” he said. “Do you remember what I
was telling Quentin Travers about the concept of the Potemkin Village?
“Yes – and I DID understand the Catherine the Great reference, it just
surprised me –“
“I know,” Giles said. “And that was not my concern in any event. The
thing is, we just pulled off a Potemkin Village on Travers as well.”
“How?”
“By convincing him Buffy’s still alive,” Giles said heavily. “Because if
they knew she was dead –“
Willow was confused. “Won’t a new Slayer have been called anyway?”
A figure stepped out of the shadows. Angel? “How’d it go?” he asked
Giles.
“They were fooled,” Giles said. “They still think Buffy’s alive.”
“Good,” Angel said. “I’d hate to have to kill members of their
assassination squad. Because I would, you know.”
Willow said, “I’m still confused. What’s this about an assassination
squad? Who would they be killing –“ the realization hit her like a
sledgehammer. She turned on Giles. “This was never about protecting
Sunnydale at all, was it?”
“That was a nice fringe benefit,” Giles said. “But the main reason was
to stop them from hastening the line of succession. Because Buffy –
Buffy died once already, so her death did not call a new Slayer.”
“So this entire thing –“ Willow stopped, speechless.
Angel finished her sentence. “This entire thing was all to stop the
Watcher’s Council from trying to kill Faith.”
end
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