They had made their way across town to the small flat that Beth had shared with her Watcher. Spike, now that he had admitted—to both himself and to her—that she was important to him and that he wanted her in his life, had convinced her to gather up her things and anything of her watcher’s that she wanted to keep and move in with him. It made sense; she spent more time at the vampire’s than she did in the sad, lonely little flat anyway.

Sorting through the watcher’s belongings had been difficult; Beth felt responsible for the older woman’s death, feeling that if she had been with her, if she hadn’t allowed her watcher to travel the streets alone after dark...  She quickly dashed away the tear before it could continue its journey down her cheek; not quickly enough, however, to prevent her vampire from noticing the slight salty tang of tears on the air. Spike replaced the book that he had been looking at and moved to kneel behind her, wrapping his arms around her and gently pulling her back against his chest, stroking her hair in silent support.

“I should have been there.” Beth leaned back further into her lover’s embrace, his arms tightening around her as he nuzzled softly against her neck while he waited for her to continue. “I was sleeping over a friend’s place for the night; we were just VR’ing. Mel had told me to go, that she would patrol for me. She wanted to let me have a night off… to go and have some fun with a friend. And it got her killed.” She stifled the sob that tried to form, knowing that if she allowed herself to cry for her watcher—the woman who had raised her from childhood, ever since her parents’ death—that she wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Hush, pet. No. ‘s not your fault, love. Not your fault.” Placing gentle kisses against her hair, Spike soothed the girl in his arms. One thing that had remained consistent throughout time was a slayer’s ability to take responsibility for every bad thing that happened, feeling every death and injury as if they alone were personally responsible. So much weight was placed on such young, and generally tiny, shoulders. He held her, rocking and soothing her until he felt the tension slowly leave her body. Turning her in his arms so that she sat across his lap, her arms automatically snaking up and around his neck, he sought her lips in a soft tender kiss. “Listen to me, Beth. You are not responsible for every life on the planet. You can only do so much, kitten, an’ what you do is amazing. People die. Your watcher could just as easily have died that night whether you were there or not.” A shudder wracked her tiny frame as she fought once more to hold the unshed grief inside her. “C’mon, love, its ok… let it out. Just let it all out.” He held her close as she finally dissolved into tears, spending her grief for the woman who had raised and trained her, the woman who had taught her how to be a slayer, how to kill his kind, in the strong, protective arms of her vampire lover.

Gathering her closer Spike held her, stroking her hair and murmuring soft, soothing words as he rocked her gently. He allowed her to cry, to let out all the grief she had held tightly inside of her in the months since her watcher’s death. More importantly he allowed her to let go of the guilt that had plagued her. Eventually she drifted to sleep in his arms, her tears finally spent. He held her close until the tremors which shook her tiny frame ceased, until her breathing evened and her heart settled into a slow, steady rhythm, and then he picked her up and carried her to the couch. Laying her down gently, he removed his coat and covered her with it before returning to work.

*****

When Beth woke hours later, Spike had sorted through most of the books; the watcher’s private journals he had separated into one small pile, and the official Watcher’s Diaries into another. All the demonology, spell craft and other useful books he had packed away into boxes for easy transport. Rubbing her sore, tear-burned eyes, Beth gathered the coat closer around her, breathing deeply to immerse herself in the unique, comforting scent of her vampire. “Spike?”

“Feeling better, pet?” He dusted his hands off on his jeans as he made his way over to the couch to capture her lips in a slow, gentle kiss.

“Hmm… uhh? Oh, yeah… definitely better.”  She smirked evocatively at him before snaking her hand around his neck to pull him close for a deep, passionate kiss, smiling against his mouth at his resulting longing moan. Beth broke the kiss off, pulling back to look at him and reaching up gently stroked his cheek. “You’ve certainly been busy while I was sleeping. Thank you. You didn’t have to, you know.” She smiled gratefully at him.

Spike returned her smile, his blue eyes twinkling happily as he nuzzled into her hand and then stood up, taking her hands and bringing her with him, “’s nothing, pet. You needed the sleep. I only sorted the books. Separated her private journals for you, thought you might wanna read ‘em. Everything else is up to you, pet. I’ll help you if you want… but figured you’d probably wanna be doin’, you know, her private stuff yourself.”

The smile on Beth’s face faded as she stared at the door leading to her watcher’s bedroom. Spike stood silently watching as the emotions played out on the girl’s face. He fought the urge to gather her into his arms with everything he had; he knew instinctively that this was something she needed to face alone, and his comfort, while welcome, would only serve to weaken her at a time when her strength was crucial.

Beth finally shook herself from her reverie; having come to a decision, she turned once more to face him. “I don’t think there is anything I want in there anyway; the things that meant the most to her, that, you know, sort of symbolise her… well, that would be her books, and her Dojo. And I have them, the rest… well, she wasn’t really into possessions. I think I remember a locket, she would take it out and look at it sometimes but it would make her sad. I might see if I can find it. But the rest can just stay here, I think.”

“Whatever you want, pet. An’ we can always come back for stuff some other time if you want.”

With a smile, she nodded, then squared her shoulders and headed into her watcher’s room to look for the little locket.

Spike busied himself packing the rest of the books neatly into boxes while he waited for her.

After some time Beth returned, studying a small silver locket that was covered in an intricate filigree pattern and hanging on a fine silver chain. She carefully opened the clasp to reveal on one side, a tiny photograph of a young girl, no more than four years old. She was all dressed up in what was obviously her best clothing, her hair falling in soft golden ringlets about her face; on the other side was a tiny wisp of hair, one small gold curl placed lovingly behind glass to be treasured for all time. Spike moved to stand behind her, catching her around the waist and pulling her back against his chest as he looked over her shoulder at the dainty little locket in his girl’s hands.

The sound of the door quickly opening broke them from their contemplation and as one they turned suspicious, enquiring gazes on the newcomer framed in the doorway.

A young man in his early to mid-twenties stood framed in the doorway. Despite the current high 30’s temperature and the sweltering humidity, he was dressed in a full three-piece grey suit, complete with a powder blue shirt and navy silk tie. There was something vaguely familiar in his strong features that tugged at Spike, a small tingle of recognition that he couldn’t quite place. He did, however, immediately recognise the man’s occupation, not that it took a rocket scientist to suss that out.

“Think your new watcher’s arrived, pet,” he drawled.

The man visibly started at being referred to as a watcher. “How would you..?” He switched his attention and instead looked intently at the young girl. “Your identity is supposed to be secret, young lady; did your previous watcher not make that clear to you?”

“Yes; in fact, Melissa made it perfectly clear to me.” Beth didn’t like the sneer when he referred to Mel; she also didn’t approve of being spoken to like she was twelve, and the tone of her voice was a clear indication to anyone with half a brain that a line was being crossed that it might be wisest not to even so much as approach. Spike barely controlled the snigger as the pompous fool not only crossed it, but barrelled over it full-steam bloody ahead.

“Well, obviously not clear enough. We shall have to remedy your apparent inability to obey orders.”

Beth blinked, slowly. Spike felt her stiffen in his arms and released his hold on her; no way was he stupid enough to stand in the way of a brassed-off slayer unless he had to. Moving with barely-controlled aggression, Beth encroached on the unsuspecting watcher until she was standing firmly in his space, drawing herself up to her full height of next-to-nothing, her jaw tensed as she lifted her chin, capturing and holding his eyes with her own she ground out slowly, “Let’s get one thing clear right now, so there are no further misunderstandings. I am the slayer, you are a watcher. There is no one living from whom I take orders. You are here to assist me, to do research and to help me train; you are not here to try to dictate to me in any way. If that is your intention, I suggest you get on the first shuttle back to London and leave me alone.”

There is nothing quite like the fury of a slayer; as a general rule they were rather petite, and yet their presence was amazing. A pissed-off slayer was a sight to behold, and Spike felt himself hardening as he watched her. The pompous twerp, however, was finally demonstrating some semblance of common sense as he rapidly shrank back into the doorframe, swallowing hard against the lump of fear in his throat caused by this tiny girl who didn’t even reach his shoulder. Spike could smell the fear pouring off the git; a feral grin lit his face and his eyes twinkled with mischief as he listened to the watcher’s heart-rate accelerate. He licked his lips and settled back to watch his girl in action.

“Do I make myself clear?” Beth held the stranger’s gaze until he dropped his head in acquiescence, a mumbled ‘quite’ satisfying her enough that she stepped back, a deep sigh of relief sounding from the man before he straightened his tie, attempting to regain his equilibrium, along with a small modicum of his lost dignity.

Beth stepped back into the room, freeing the doorway and allowing the newcomer to enter. Spike chuckled quietly as he wrapped his arms once again around his slayer. “Maybe you should start again, mate. Fresh slate an’ all that.” At the watcher’s hesitant nod but continued silence he prompted, “You are?”

An upbringing grounded in good manners kicked in to overcome to his uncertainty. “Robert Giles. I am, as you correctly surmised, indeed the new Watcher.” He looked between Beth and the vampire, his eyes finally fixing on the slayer. “I must apologise for my tardiness in reaching you after your previous watcher’s demise.” He puffed up, his bearing losing the last of the trepidation that Beth’s reprimand had caused. “I was given this appointment, on approval, prior to my graduation. So obviously I had to complete my studies before I was able to commence my duty as your watcher.”

Spike was drawn from the shocked reverie the watcher’s words had caused by Beth moving forward, out of his arms to take the proffered hand. Giving himself a quick mental shake, he muttered a brief greeting as he in turn shook hands with the man whose name had given answer to the question the strangely-familiar features had posed.

With a sharply indrawn hiss of breath, the hand he was shaking was pulled away, the watcher’s eyes bugging as his heart sped rapidly in his chest once more.

“Somethin’ wrong there, mate?” Spike smirked at the horror written clearly across the young man’s face.

Acting quickly, Robert pulled a cross from his coat pocket and waved it at the vampire. “Get back. Beth, come here, quickly. That creature isn’t what you think.”

A low warning growl sounded deep in Spike’s chest; however, before he could make good his unspoken promise, the slayer had performed a spinning kick, hurtling the offending object across the room and into the wall, leaving a startled and somewhat frightened watcher standing defenceless in front of the pissed-off master vampire.

“Don’t wave bloody crosses at me, you git, ‘cause the next time you do, it won’t just be the cross that gets a flying lesson. Thanks, love,” he murmured as he turned his back on the watcher to take Beth in his arms once more. Dipping his head he brushed a soft kiss against her lips.

“You’re a vampire.” The accusation was spoken in the most indignant voice the trembling young watcher could muster.

“Look at that, kitten, your watcher knows a vampire when he sees one, or rather when he shakes hands with one.” Spike’s dry tone belied the anger that simmered still at having had a crucifix shoved in his face.

“Well, that’s something, I guess. I mean at least he did know. You wouldn’t think much of him if he didn’t work it out. Would you?” Beth reasoned, stroking his arm soothingly and offering her lover a gentle smile. “Come on, baby. Try to play nice.”

“Fine,” he agreed, managing to sound like a petulant child rather than an almost three-hundred year old master vampire.

Beth suppressed the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth, not wanting to add to his current mood by appearing to laugh at him, no matter how amusing his behaviour may be. “Thank you.” She reached up to tenderly cup his cheek, her thumb running automatically along the sharp chiselled line of his handsome face as she spoke.

Beth turned her attention to the other man. “Look, Spike’s a vampire, yes, but he isn’t going to hurt you.” At the indignant snort behind her she added, “unless you continue to piss him off, that is. So why don’t we all just start again.” She looked at them both in turn, suppressing a laugh as each of the men gave a short, stiff, reluctant nod.

“Giles?” Spike asked, suddenly remembering the name the boy had given.

“That’s correct. Why do you ask?”

“Knew a Giles once, a good man. He was a watcher, too. You have something of his look to you. ‘m wondering if you might be a descendant of his. Rupert’s been gone coming up a hundred years now.” Spike’s voice was distant as he remembered back to the man who had become so much more than just a friend to him over the years, the years since his death seeming both eternal and, at the same time, so few.

“Rupert Giles, you say?” Robert’s eyes lit with interest and, at the vampire’s nod, he continued. “Indeed my great-great grandfather’s name was Rupert; he was the head of the Watcher’s Council for some time after the destruction of the old Council and his son, my great grandfather, William, followed in his footsteps; William was the head of the Council for almost fifty years.” He beamed proudly. “Every generation of my family has served the council. In fact, young Beth here is also a descendant of Rupert Giles. She is in fact my cousin.”

“What?” Beth and Spike spoke together.

“Yes, her great-great grandmother Elisabeth and my great grandfather William were brother and sister.”

The sharp intake of breath and the softly muttered curses drew the humans’ attention to the clearly distressed vampire.

“Spike? What’s wrong?” Beth started to reach for him, only to hesitate as he visibly flinched, pulling away from her outstretched hand. The barely noticeable tremble of her bottom lip, the slight tang of salt in the air and the altered rhythm of her heartbeat, although undetectable by the human male in the room, screamed loudly to the vampire; casting aside his own confusion, Spike moved quickly to gather his lover in his arms and murmur against her ear. “’m sorry, pet. Didn’t mean to do that. Just threw me for a bit of a loop, is all. Used to bounce Elisabeth on my knee when she was a just little-un. Right lovely she was too. Giles an’ Jenny named her after Buffy, and she was a wild little thing.” His eyes lit up as he laughed quietly at a long forgotten memory. “Had a temper just like her namesake, too.” He nuzzled into Beth’s hair. “Just came as a bit of a shock to find out I’m sleeping with the great-great granddaughter of the little bit who used to make me carry her around on my bloody shoulders; damn bossy little chit she was too—can see where you get it from, love.”

“Buffy?” The watcher’s voice rose excitedly. “You mean the Buffy? You knew her?”

Spike snorted and, kissing the top of Beth’s head, peered over it to look at the suddenly eager face of the young man. “Yeah, I knew her. Loved her.” His voice trailed off as he buried his face once more in Beth’s fragrant hair, holding her close in an effort to ward off the sudden resurgence of grief, murmuring appreciatively as she gently stroked his back.

“You loved her?” Robert frowned trying to recollect something that he knew he had heard about the famous Slayer. “William the Bloody,” he said in triumph, “you’re William the Bloody. I remember hearing tales about you when I was just a lad. I thought you had…” he hesitated, looking sheepishly at the vampire in question. “Well, I thought, as no one had heard anything of you in so long, that you were… umm…”

“Dust?” Spike offered, dryly.

“Well, yes.” The watcher looked decidedly uncomfortable for a moment, before remembering the previous topic. “What was she like? Buffy, that is.”

“Beautiful,” Beth offered quietly. “And kind. She made me feel at peace.”

Robert frowned, his eyes fixed intently on his slayer as she turned in the vampire’s arms, her back resting against his chest and her head relaxed back against his shoulder, her hands joining his as they linked in front of her. “When… how could you have met her?” he asked incredulously.

“She came to me in a dream, but it wasn’t like a normal dream. Or even a slayer dream. She was really there, and she gave me a gift. She gave me her gift.” Beth tilted her head to look up at Spike. “She said you’d explain that to me, and with everything that happened, I guess I kinda forgot that bit.”

Spike looked from the Slayer to her Watcher; both sets of eyes were fixed eagerly on him—waiting.

“Well, I guess it has something to do with Buffy’s power being undiluted.” He sighed, trying to figure out where to begin. “After the old council was destroyed and Red had done her mojo to call up all the potentials, things were a bit hectic for a while. There was so much needed doing, and not enough people left who knew how to go about doing it. But we got by, you know… did the best we could. Then, after a bit, we noticed that there was a problem. The new girls… when they were killed, they weren’t replaced. At the time we didn’t know for certain why, but Giles thought it was ‘cause there was no pool left to call on. Later, after we lost Faith…” pain flashed briefly across his face before a hard, cold anger settled in his eyes.

After a few moments the vampire shook off whatever fury it was his reflections had conjured, and continued. “Well, when Holly was called we figured it had more to do with maintaining the original line of succession. Only Holly was never quite as strong as she should be, never quite full slayer strength, an’ none of the girls that followed her were either. We lost ‘em in fairly rapid succession after Faith; course by then a lot of the girls that had been called when Red did the spell were gone too… So there was Buffy, whichever latest new slayer we had at the time, and a handful of full-strength slayers spread around the world. The council was in chaos; Giles, Jenny, Buffy ‘n me and the rest of the Scoobies too, we were doin’ the best we could to rebuild it. Xander wasn’t much use to anyone, and he had the bits to worry ‘bout. Dawn was working for the council part-time as a linguist, along with her work at the British History Museum an’ of course being a mum to her own little brood.”

At the blank looks on the faces of both his lover and her new Watcher, Spike sighed, “Ok, kiddies, guess I better go back a bit an’ explain a few things to you. Find yourselves somewhere comfy to sit, ‘cause this is gonna take a while.”