Author: Kathryn A Pantaleo

Rating: FRM

Disclaimers: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, and whomever else he shares them with! I can only dream!!

Buffy was pacing back and forth in front of the long sales counter in the magic shop. Her arms were wrapped around her and the need to HURT somebody was getting stronger as her fear and frustration mounted

She started as a ringing buzz came from her side. It was her cell phone, forgotten in the purse at her hip. She snatched it out and answered.

"Hello…DAWN!" The others crowded around her, hope lighting their faces.

"Dawnie, calm down! Where are you? Dawn, I can’t understand you! It’s ok. Tell me where you are."

Several miles away, at a public phone on a dark street, several blocks from the warehouse that the knights had taken her, Dawn Summers found all her strength dissolve away at the sound of her sisters’ voice. She started to sob hysterically, all the while trying desperately to get the oh-so-vital information to Buffy.

"B-Buffy, you have to come! Giles is hurt so bad! There was blood everywhere and he wasn’t moving, and, and…."

The voice in the other end of the phone dissolved into more sobs as Buffy felt fear again stab through her. Forcing calm into her voice, the Slayer tried to bring herself into to focus, as her Watcher had taught her.

"Dawnie, are you hurt?" She met the eyes around her and shook her head. Relived sounds and tightly clasped hands followed, quickly silenced at the next words from the Slayer.

"Giles is hurt? Is he there with you?" The room went still.

"Dawn, listen, I know you’re afraid, and you are doing really great. Look around you. Tell me where you are? Market Street? Near the old warehouses? That’s great Dawn. Look around some more, what buildings are right near you? The sign says what? Bait Shop? Ok, Dawn, I know exactly where you are. Look, Dawnie, I need you to stay right there. Go into the shadows in the doorway there and hide. I’ll be right there."

Buffy was moving around the counter, elbowing Xander out of the way. She grabbed the handle of the locked drawer that Giles always put his wallet and car keys in when they were training. The key was somewhere behind the counter, but she simply ripped the drawer out, snapping the lock and sending splinters flying. Xander winced at the sheer force of the movement.

Buffy didn’t seem to notice as she slapped the drawer on top of the counter and snatched the keys to Giles new red sports car. "Dawn, listen to me… No, I don’t want you to stay on the phone, it’s safer for you to hide. Dawn…Dawn…I know, baby, I know, but please, this once, just do it. I’ll be there before you know it. Ok, Dawnie..It’s ok. Hang on, I’ll be right there."

Buffy snapped the phone shut. She looked at "the Scoobies".

"She’s ok, but Giles is hurt…bad. The Knights have him in an old warehouse." She looked at Willow. "Will, you and Tara go to the house and tell Mom what’s happening. By now she must be worried. Stay with her until I call."

She held up a hand as Willow drew a breath to argue. "No time, Willow. You’re not 100% yet, and you know it. There may be fighting." A grim look came over her face. "If they’ve hurt Giles as badly as Dawn said, there is GOING to be fighting! I can’t protect you, I can’t risk you, and I need you to do this for me." Willow met her eyes, bit her lip, and nodded.

"Xander, you’re with me." Xander nodded and moved quickly to the weapons cabinet. He started to grab a small crossbow, remembered that the Knights were human, and picked up an automatic pistol instead, and headed out the door. Buffy picked up the ancient battle-ax from the counter. It had apparently served Giles well today. Maybe it would do so again. She looked around the shop. "You guys lock up, Ok?" she said to Willow and Tara. Then she was gone.

. ******************************************

The red sports car, with Xander at the wheel, tore through the streets of Sunnydale with a reckless disregard for life, limb or property. As he drove, Xander kept sneaking glances at his friend beside him. Buffy had gone still as soon as the car had started moving. She was motionless. Silent. Withdrawn. It almost seemed like he was sitting next to a shell of the Slayer, instead of the girl herself.

Xander had been with her in situations like this before. As a matter of fact, one very much like this, when Angel had taken Giles to force the secret of Acathla from him. So much had changed since then.

He knew that Buffy was gathering her strength and focus for the battle that was coming. She would need all her skills and strength. The cost for failure, as ever for the Slayer, was far too dear to pay. He skidded around a corner and gunned the engine. This new set of wheels was a vast improvement over Giles old Citroen!

Anya shouted "There!" and pointed to a boarded up storefront with a dilapidated sign in front that read "Bait Shop". He pulled to the curb, and Buffy was out of the car before it had stopped moving.

"DAWN!" she shouted. There was no answer. "DAWNIE?"

She moved to the doorway, Xander and Anya a step behind. The door was slightly ajar. She went inside. From up ahead in the gloom, there was a sudden crash, and the sound of feet running towards them. Dawn burst out of the gloom, running flat out, with three Knights hot on her heels.

"LOOK OUT!", the girl shouted, speeding past them.

Buffy moved forward and attacked. The slow, burning anger that had been growing inside her since she had entered the trashed magic shop and seen the blood on the floor suddenly burst loose. The first Knight ran into a kick to the face at full steam. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, and did not get up again. The second one took a swing at the Slayer with his sword. He was off balance, the blow rushed. Buffy slapped the blade aside and spun into him. She elbowed him twice in the ribs, then backfisted him in the face and flipped him, crashing him into the ground. She spun, pulling the battle-ax from her belt, and blocked a blow from the final attackers' sword as Xander socked the second Knight solidly in the jaw. Buffy made short work of the final Knight, disarming him and then punching him squarely on the chin. There was something very satisfying in watching his eyes glaze over, and seeing him topple.

She turned to see Anya holding her sister. Dawn ran to her through the dim old shop and into her arms. Buffy held her tight, rocking gently and smoothing her hair. She could feel the slender girl trembling in her arms. She felt Xander and Anya come up behind her, and then Xander wrapped his arms around them both. They stayed that way, until Dawns’ sobs lessened and she finally looked up.

Gently wiping away her sisters’ tears, Buffy looked into her eyes, noting as she did that her "kid" sister was nearly as tall as she was now. "Are you ok?" Buffy asked. Still snuffling, Dawn nodded. Anyas’ hand came in over Buffy’s shoulder with a tissue, and Dawn took it gratefully.

"I’m ok, but, Buffy, they hurt Giles so bad! He wasn’t moving and…and…" Seeing her sisters lip start to tremble again, Buffy walked her to the car and had her sit on the hood. Taking her sister’s hands, she said. "Tell me what happened. Try to remember it all, and don’t leave anything out if you can…It’s really important, Dawn."

Slowly at first, then with increasing confidence, the teen told her all that she could remember of the events of the afternoon.

When she was done, Buffy looked at Xander. "It doesn’t sound good, Zand. We have to hurry." Xander nodded, as Buffy looked again to her sister. "Can you show us the warehouse Dawnie? When she nodded, Buffy turned to Anya. "Anya, when we get there, I want you to stay with Dawn, and stay out of sight." The ex-demon nodded silently, and put her arm around the girl, leading her around to get into the car.

Buffy looked at Xander. "We go in fast. You get to Giles, and get him out if you can. If he’s too badly hurt to move, I want you to stay with him and protect him. Leave the fighting to me."

Xander didn’t like it…She could tell that. But he didn’t argue. He just bit his lip, turned, and opened the car door. Buffy went back to "shotgun", and they headed down the street.

*********************************************

Giles floated in an incredibly deep, impossibly dark pit.

"Or well, Rupert?" a voice inside his head asked.

"No, I’m not well at all, I’m dead, am I not?" he asked the voice.

There was no answer , but he could feel the blackness begin to shred and fade, like a fog beginning to lift. Gradually, consciousness returned. And with the consciousness came the pain, and he began to wish fervently that he had stayed in the well.

He opened his eyes, noting that the left on was gummy and he couldn’t see much there. It didn’t matter, as his vision swam and he quickly shut his eyes again as nausea churned his stomach.

He couldn’t see, but he could hear. Nearby, two men were speaking softly. "The Mistress will be pleased with this offering, will she not, my Lord?" one voice asked.

"The Mistress will be pleased when I present her with the prize she seeks." A deep voice answered. "When the day of her full manifestation comes, she will raise her faithful servants up, and give us dominion over this plain! All shall grovel before us and pay us tribute!"

Giles tried fuzzily to focus on their words. He tried to open his eyes again, and found his vision a little clearer. He also found that he was hanging, much like a side of beef, from a hook suspended from the ceiling. He was bound at the wrists, with the hook thrust through the ropes. He couldn’t feel his hands, as all sensation there ended in throbbing pain at the wrists.

The worst, though, were his ribs. The pain there was excruciating, and he was having trouble breathing. Hanging as he was did not help, and he carefully straightened his legs out, feeling the strain on his chest lessen as his legs, though trembling underneath him, took some of the weight off.

He sensed, rather than saw, movement on his left, and then a face appeared in front of him. It was probably a handsome face at one point, but right now it’s nose and lips were swollen, and it had two lovely shiners. It was vaguely familiar. A rough hand grabbed his chin and lifted his head to gaze into his eyes.

He turned away and called, "Sir Victor! He’s awake!"

Giles squeezed his eyes shut as the room spun with his rough handling. When he opened them again, another man was approaching. The man sat in a chair that Broken Nose set out for him, leaned back, and crossed his booted feet comfortably.

He was a tall man, broad shouldered and well muscled. He had deep eyes set in a pale face, with a mustache and goatee neatly trimmed. It was a cruel face. He radiated a kind of magnetic power. His eyes were dreadful. It was clear that he was gloating in the misery of his prisoner.

Giles’ mind screamed danger to him, and he struggled to throw off his weakness and block the pain, and bring his mind into focus.

"Ah, Mr. Giles.," the bearded man purred. "I see you’ve finally decided to join us."

Speaking carefully, and taking short, shallow breaths, Giles asked, "You…know me?"

"Well of COURSE we know you, Mr.Giles! "You’re quite an accomplished fellow…A renowned scholar of the ancient languages, well-known expert on ancient artifacts. An accomplished Sorcerer at one time. And now,’ the Watcher". You’ve had quite a time with this one, haven’t you?" he asked. " She’s lasted quite a bit longer than most Slayers!"

"You have me….at..disadvantage, " There! He thought he did that quite well, considering!

The knight looked amused. "I am Sir Victor. Knight Marshall of the Knights of Byzantium," the man replied.

The voice in the back of his mind whispered softly to Giles…"Keep him talking. Stall for time." He tried again. "Knights, Byzantium…ancient and noble order. Force for good. Why…all this?"

The amused look disappeared, and the man rose to his feet. Hands behind his back, he circled his prisoner. "Why? Why, Mr. Giles? Look at the world around you! Corruption, decadence, waste, self-indulgence!" the mans’ eyes were wild, mad. burning with fanaticism. "My Preceptor clings to the old code of chivalry and honor, and the world ignores us…But I am going to seize control of the Knights, and you, Mr. Giles are going to help me! You see, you have something I want. More specifically, your Slayer has something I want. And you, Mr. Giles, are going to help me get it from her."

Giles felt a knot of terror start in the center of his being. Dawn. They were after Dawn.

Memory came surging back. The fight in the shop and the image of Dawn speeding out the front door. It seemed they hadn’t caught her.

"Good girl!" he thought to himself. He hoped it was so. "God, please let it be so." he prayed in the recesses of his mind.

The Knight Marshall had come to stand in front of him again. He seemed to be waiting for a reply.

"What…do you…mean?" he managed.

"Oh, I think you know," Sir Victor said. He stepped a little closer. "The Key, Mr . Giles! Your Slayer has The Key, and I want it!"

"Key? What k--- AH!" His sentence was cut off as the Knight Marshall spun and slammed a fist into Giles’ tortured ribs. As the blackness encroached again on the edges of his vision the Knight stepped up to him and pulled his head up by a fist full of hair.

"Now, Mr. Giles, please don’t make the mistake of thinking that I am an idiot." To Giles’ stunned mind, it almost seemed that the mans’ face became mottled, the shape shifting, as if something rolled about under his skin. The Watcher tried to blink the tears from his eyes, to no avail.

Releasing his hold on his prisoner, the Knight Marshall walked away a few paces, then turned. "Yes, I think you know, indeed. But, no matter, Mr. Giles. You WILL tell me. You will beg to tell me. You will tell me all that you know about the Slayer, and the key, before we are through. And even if you don’t, I will win, anyway. For regardless of whether you know the location of the key or not, your Slayer knows. And she will trade that Key, Mr. Giles, for you."

He walked back a few paces, and sat in his chair. "I must say, Mr. Giles, I was surprised when Sir Joram here reported your rather, shall we say, spirited actions this afternoon. You killed two of my best knights! Where ever DID you learn fight like that?"

When Giles didn’t answer, he flicked his eyes over to Sir Joram. The broken-nosed knight stepped up to Giles and backhanded him across the face.

When the room stopped spinning, Giles spat blood, "You hit," a labored breath, "like a girl!" he snarled at Sir Joram

The Knight with the broken nose growled, "Cocky English bastard!" and hit him in the stomach. Giles gasped, but somehow held on to consciousness.

Sir Victor continued, "You see how it is, Mr. Giles? You can save yourself a great deal of discomfort if you are a bit more forthcoming. Now, about your Slayer, does she fight as well as you do?"

Giles met his eyes, and smiled a smile with no humor in it. No humor, and a great deal of pride.

It was Rippers’ smile.

"She knocks me…on my bum….on a …regular basis." Giles told him, "really…can’t wait…for you to meet her. She’s going to…kill you just a little."

Giles saw the blow coming, and knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. This time, when the darkness came, he did not fight it.