“If we were in France, Madame Guillotine would have been too good for you English pigs!” Grilliot spat as he held Joao. He turned away with Joao in his arms and Karl watching his back when he heard the English pig snarl again.

“And yet we English still whipped your asses even after what the Corsican did, frog!” Ethan sniped back as he sneered from behind Giles.

“Ethan, shut the bloody hell up!” Giles shouted as Grilliot came at them with a roar. Giles felt himself thrown to the side and then, the next thing he knew he was lying against the cave wall. “Ow. Bloody hell.”

“Get your Frenchie hands off of me,” Ethan said as he shoved the flat of his hand into Grilliot’s nose. “Blasted frog!”

“You-you deserve to die, you American swine!” Karl snarled as approached Jerrod. He placed his hand on his knife and pulled it out. “I think that no one would mourn your loss should I kill you now.“

“You may be right about that, Kraut,” Jerrod sneered as he moved away from the German. “But I definitely know that your little fraulein would cheer me if you died right here.”

Garoth sniffed the stale air of the caverns as a huge, toothy smile came to his face. There was fear, hate, anger and pain in the air. The bitter scents, he could smell them, feel them. Taste it. The missing souls, they were all here. They were near.

He sniffed the air again, and smiled. He was looking forward to devouring their scared, bitter, angry souls. Those were the souls that had the sweetest taste for him. He sniffed the intoxicating scents again, and waited for them to call him.

Silently watching the figures in the fire, he despaired as the last souls fought amongst each other. He had been in the crystal since that time long ago, when they had first trapped Garoth. Time had no meaning within the crystal. It was neither a friend nor a foe. It simply did not exist. Only the souls trapped had meaning, they were the key to destroying Garoth. Or settling him loose upon the earth again.

As the crystal filled with souls, his despair grew, knowing that the turning point was approaching. He realized it first, when the nightingale had first entered the crystal. The child from his brethren’s line, the one who held the knowledge to destroy Garoth. But the child was filled with despair and hate, blocking the knowledge that flowed through the veins. He watched as the nightingale grew in leaps and spurts, but the knowledge never sprang forth. And he despaired for them all.

He looked away from the fire, knowing that he could not help the souls unite against Garoth unless they united themselves against the demons first. When the Slayer and her people became trapped within, he had hoped that she would lead people and help the nightingale realize what must be done. But she was like the rest, despite her special birthright. She was young, rash, and selfish. He sighed again, and despaired as he watched the figures in the flame.

Giles was just about to stop Grilliot from killing Ethan when there was a loud ear-piercing scream that echoed through out the caves. Turning his head to look at the source, he saw Joyce hurl a rock at Grilliot and Ethan, then another at Karl and Jerrod. “YOU GOD-DAMNED STUPID MALE BASTARDS!”

The men looked at Joyce as she cursed them all furiously. “Of all the retarded, testosterone filled- you all are absolutely pathetic! I hope that stupid demon comes here and kicks all your stupid asses into the dirt!”

“Joyce-“ Giles started as he approached her. He stopped as she gave him a lethal look. A look that he often saw on Buffy’s face when she just reached the end of her patience. Now he knew where the original came from. “I’ll just stay right here.”

“You do that!” Joyce snapped. Then she turned to march up to Ethan and slapped him on his chest. “You have got to be one of the most conceited, malicious and stupidest men on the face of this earth! You think that you’re the only one that has suffered in this world, that the world owes you something because it doesn’t revolve around you, well, let me tell you something…GROW UP! You’re like the rest of us mere mortals, you’re not the most important thing in the world and you never will be. The world owes you nothing and you’re forever going to fall flat on your face if you always think that it does!”

Joyce then spun and poked Grilliot in the chest, ”And you! What the hell is your problem? To deal with this piece of shit, you drop the woman you love to the ground so that you can beat his shit’s head in? Instead of comforting her like you’re supposed to? Oh, that was real mature of you! Hell, that was even brave of you! I hope you’re real proud that you care more for violence against this ass than comforting Joao! You ought to be shot!”

Her brown eyes narrowed as she looked at Karl. “And you! You’re supposed to be Joao’s friend. Hello? You’re also supposed to be comforting her or at least restraining Grilliot. You want to kill Jerrod, for what? So that you can become just like Garoth except that you use a knife instead of sucking down souls? Oh, that’s something we really need to see!”

“And as for you, Jerrod, I’m sorry that your father killed your mother, that she molested you, that wasn’t your fault, but what you became is.” Joyce’s voice hardened as she looked at him. “You have the same problem that Ethan does, with more reason but that still doesn’t make your asshole attitude any better to swallow. Get over it. You had a rotten childhood, and boo-hoo to that, but no one made you an asshole except yourself.”

“Thank you, Dear Abby,” Ethan sneered as he looked at Joyce. “You, the deluded, blind, middle-aged, stupid widgeon that didn’t even know her kid was the Slayer or that Sunnydale was filled with demons-“

“No, I didn’t know, but at least I did something about it when the blinds were ripped off,” Joyce snapped back. “And it was a hell of a lot more constructive that what you’ve been doing! Poisoning candy! Making Halloween costumes come to life! Trapping people in deadly crystals! To quote Buffy, ‘can you say backfire much’, Ethan?”

“Yeah, you were real constructive when you found out Buffy was the Slayer, You kicked your kid right out of the house,” Jerrod sneered at her. “That was real mature of you, Mommy Dearest.”

“I never said that was mature of me,” Joyce said coldly as she looked at him. “Or that it was one of my better moments, but I’ve gotten over with what I did and I’ve tried to improve myself each time when something insane happens, can you say the same? With the exception of Rupert, can any of you?”

“Thought you didn’t,” said Joyce, as the men looked at her silently, all of them looking at her with varying degrees of anger. She took advantage of the silence of the men as she started to walk back to Joao. ”I don’t want to hear anything from the five of you manly he-men unless on of you has a plan for defeating that demon. Fight again and I’ll personally throw you at him!”

The men watched as Joyce made her way towards the silently crying Joao. She knelt by the woman and held out her hand to her. Giles watched Ethan as his brown eyes shot poisonous darts at her back while Jerrod’s face looked as if it were set in stone. Grilliot, however, looked annoyed as well as quite chastened. Katterhenrich’s face was the same as Grilliot’s.

[I will have to watch Joyce’s back] Giles mused as he saw Ethan turn to look at a cave wall, giving Grilliot a wide berth. Then he stiffened when Katterherinrich came to his side. Ready for anything, Giles looked at the man. “Yes?”

When Wesley shook his head, the small bird was gone. “Oh, wonderful. Lack of sleep will do that to you, old boy. Black nightingales, indeed.”

Turning, he walked inside Giles’s apartment and rubbed his eyes again. After absently looking around to make note of where he left off, his eyes looked at a box of books that was precariously on the edge of the staircase. The side of the box, from what he could see, it read: Assorted Para. Studies (No. Eur. Lang.). Numerology, Palmistry, Gemology, Psych. Research, Reincarnation, etc. Walking slowly over to the box, he started looking through the titles. Triumphantly pulling out the Druidatic Apology, he glared at it. “Oh, bloody hell. There you are! He just had to use short hand when labeling these boxes! Just couldn’t write down Northern European Languages, could he?”

Oz and Willow popped their heads out from Giles’s spare bedroom. Willow blinked as she looked at him. “Wesley? You still here? What’s wrong? I thought I heard you yell.”

“Go back to sleep, Willow. I just found the text we need,” Wesley said as he looked at them. He was about to pile the books back in when another title caught his eye, Chronicle Frode Gersemi. It was a huge tome, bound in very old leather and studded. As he started scanning the book, his jaw started to lower. “Oh, my god!”

Sighing, Willow looked at Oz. “I can’t go back to sleep now that he’s done that, can you?”

“Nope,” Oz said. Together they went towards Wesley. “Interesting read, Wesley.”

Startled, Wesley looked up, his face aglow with excitement. “I found the Druidatic and this! Do you know what this is?”

“It’s a book?” Willow ventured as she looked at it.

Wesley blinked, then looked down at it. “Well, yes. It is that. But, it’s the Chronicle Frode Gersemi, from what I could translate, it’s a family history.”

“A family history?” Willow echoed as she looked at Oz. He mouthed back ‘He’s lost it.’ Willow scowled at him briefly before she looked back at Wesley. She cleared her throat. “Who’s?”

Impatiently, Wesley scanned through the pages again. “The author claims to be a descendent of a druid priest. From his family’s oral history, he has been able to chronicle the actions of the Druid priests that first imprisoned Garoth. Hopefully it will have the spell that was used to get Garoth into the crystal.”

Willow and Oz looked at each other excitedly. While Willow was beside herself, Oz asked, “And does that tell us on how it can get Buffy and everybody out?”

“I’m not sure,” Wesley said as he read the text. “The text itself was written in partially in Old Norse, Portuguese and some Celtic words. It may take some time in translating.”

Oz and Willow looked at each other, puzzled. “How come those languages?”

Wesley blinked, then he opened the front of the text again and scanned quickly the pages. “It seems that the author’s female antecedent was the daughter of a druid priest, who was some sort of scribe/recorder for the druids. She was also a niece of one of the five who had died to trap Garoth. Anyway, it seems that she was kidnapped by some Vikings, and became an important concubine of a jarl, ah, nobleman who traded all across Europe. She taught her children the healing rites and some powers that she learned from her father, and passed them on. The author’s mother was Dutch and his father was Portuguese, hence the languages.”

Looking up at Willow and Oz, Wesley pointed at the book’s title. “See here? Frode means ‘Learned’ in Old Norse. That’s what the Druids called themselves on occasions. And Gersemi was, if I remember correctly, in Norse Mythology, the twin daughters of Freya. They were considered very beautiful, so many of the precious jewels and gems were named after them. It is also the family name of the author’s mother.”

Wesley was lost into the text and muttering to himself. Willow called out his name a few times, then finally she poked him, causing him to jump up and scream. “What was that for?”

“You weren’t answering,” Willow defended, then added in a rush, “Before you get lost, let’s check on Buffy and the others and what language is the Druidatic Apology written in? So that I can help with research?”

“It’s in Latin, you can translate that,” Wesley said as he started to read again. Then shook his head as his eyes started to simply close on their own. He forced them open. “I need paper, is there a notepad around here? And a pen? And tea, I need some tea.”

Oz took the book from Wesley. “Come on, let’s go to Buffy’s house. You can translate it there, and on the way you can catnap. Will, carry these two books and Wesley to the van while I’ll get the rest of the box.” Willow looked at him, puzzled. “Giles is the man when it comes to cataloging and cross-indexing, so this batch of books might have more info.”

“Good idea,” Willow nodded as she took the books from him. Then she looked into the box, and hesitated. “But I think we might not need one of these books.”

“Why not?” Oz asked as he approached her. He peered into the box.

“Because one of the titles is ‘The Numbers of Love: How to Use Numerology to Have A Great Sex Life’,” Willow said, her face turning slightly pink.

“Your fiancée has quite a temper,” Kattenheinrich commented. Giles remained silent at that. “You had best keep her away from the one that you came with. And from Jerrod. They did not appreciate her…insights.”

“I know,” Giles said as he looked at the other man. Giles glanced at Ethan’s turned back. No doubt his former lover was planning Joyce’s imminent down fall. He hesitated as he looked at the German, then he plunged in. “Ethan will hurt anyone or anything that can be hurt, simply because he can. And he cannot tolerate being dismissed, especially when Joyce did it so... effectively.”

The German nodded as looked at Joao who placed her hand into Joyce’s. “Yes, he seems to be a proud one. He has a kindred soul in Jerrod, except that one does not know magic. It is a problem that the two have bonded.”

“Yes, it is,” Giles said as he looked at him. “May I count on you to help me protect Joyce from Ethan and Jerrod? Both yours and Grilliot’s?”

“You may have my aid, but I must ask Francois for his,” Kattenheinrich said as he watched Joao and Joyce stand. Francois hesitantly approached them.

The scent! There was no more bitter scent! Garoth lifted his head and sniffed the air frantically. Where was the scent?

Then there was something, Garoth recoiled as if his face was slapped. He sniffed the air again, cautiously, then let out a growl. By the pits! The air was disgusting! The cloying, sweet scent of hope was in the air! There was no scent of fear! No scent of pain! No scent of anger…but there was the scent of hate!

Garoth sniffed again, and smiled. Hate was still in the air…that was good. As long as there was hate, he knew that at least one soul would be tasty.

He watched the fire with great interest. The fair-haired woman stopped the souls from fighting. A small ember of hope started to fill him as he watched the nightingale start to grow again and the souls start to unite.

With a wave his hand, he saw the Slayer and Muhyi make their way towards the others. His mind wavered as he debated. Had she not been so rash- had she not been filled with young arrogance- the test would not have been needed. But she was, and even he could not change the conditions of the spell that kept Garoth alive and the souls all here in the gray hell fashioned by Garoth’s cold, evil heart.

Her sudden temper under control, Joyce knelt to offer the other woman comfort. She may not know what it was like to be forced to leave your child behind because of a whim, but she had a taste of what it was like to live without your child. Joyce reached out to tentatively touch the other woman. Like a wounded animal, Joao looked up at her, her eyes unfocused. “My babies…my babies…”

“Joao…Joao, look at me,” Joyce said softly. She hesitantly touched the other mother’s face. Joao looked at her reluctantly. “I have no words for you, I have nothing to make your pain less. But I want to help you.”

“How can you help? How can you make things better?” Joao cried as she folded into herself. “We are all doomed to die here, our souls must suffer here. Our souls-our soul are to be food for Garoth!”

“No, they’re not,” Joyce said as she grabbed the other woman’s shoulders. She yanked the other woman’s head to look at her face. “We will not die here. And we’re definitely are not going to be eaten!”

“How can you be so sure?” Joao demanded as her brown eyes glistened with tears. “We already fight amongst ourselves-the fires are out and demon hunts us! We have not even seen your child, the Slayer! How could you possibly make things better? What can you promise to make things better?”

“I don’t know,” Joyce admitted as she wiped the tears of the other woman. “I only know that if we lose hope in getting out of here, Garoth will destroy more than our souls.“

“What more could Garoth possibly take more from us that we haven’t lost already? Our lives outside the crystal?” Joao said bitterly. Her brown eyes shone with anger and despair. “My body is withered, meat for the maggots and worms. You have a body or life to get back to.”

“I may have a body to get back to if we escape Garoth, but you have so much more to lose than I do,” Joyce said quietly.

“And what do I have left to lose?” Joao demanded as she laughed. Her laughter had a tinge of hysteria to it. “What more can I lose? My soul?”

“Your self-respect,” Joyce said quietly. Stunned, Joao stopped laughing. “We’re damned into this hell because it’s like Garoth feeds on our hope, our hearts, our fears, our pain. You’ve lost hope in getting out of here, back to your body, but I haven’t. If I learned anything this past year, about my fears, it’s that if I give into them, I’ll lose all my self-respect. Don’t let Garoth win and make him take away yours.”

“My self-respect,” Joao said wonderingly as she looked at a cave wall. “Until Francois, I was all that I was born to be, a slave, a servant, a concubine. I learned quickly here, that life was like that on the plantation. The other four and myself…. We submitted ourselves to the strongest one here, Argus. He was leader until Garoth attacked him and his hunting party. Few had survived. My companions and Argus did not.”

“When Francois first came here, with his two friends, I was being punished by Argus’s second, Niall,” Joao said as her eyes rested on Grilliot. “I had-I had not set his pallet correctly. So Niall had taken Argus’s strongest vines and had started to whip me. Francois stopped him and challenged him for me.”

Joyce stared at the other woman, but she held her tongue. Rupert had said theoretically, that the male/female dynamics were much like they had been before the twentieth century, but she had no idea that it was more like the Bronze Age. She was going to have to speak to Rupert about what she should do if there were any more Neanderthal males around. Pushing that thought aside, she concentrated on Joao’s words. “When I asked for Francois’s protection after Argus’s death, his ideas were so strange. It sounded nice-but it was so foreign to us all- but then the other souls came, and some said the same things that Francois said.“

Joao looked at Joyce, her eyes desperate. She held out her hands to her, and Joyce took them. “I learned what Francois taught me because that was what I was trained to do, to learn from my masters. But Francois taught me differently, that I was just as good as anyone here.”

“You are as good as anyone here, maybe even better,” Joyce said firmly. She lowered her head. “Or do you honestly think that Jerrod and Ethan are better than you?”

Joao smiled briefly at that. She looked at Joyce seriously. “No, I-I do not think that way any longer, Joyce. I am better than them.”

“That’s my girl,” Joyce said as she squeezed Joao’s hands. She pulled Joao to her feet. “Now, Buffy and Muhyi will come back with the Druid, and pretty soon, this crystal and Garoth will be history.”

“You think that your daughter will destroy this demon?” Francois asked as he looked at the American woman. “How can you be so sure of that?”

Joyce turned to look at him. “Because that’s what she does, she’s the Slayer. She’ll find a way to stop Garoth from killing us and being freed from this crystal. And she’ll make sure that no one can access it again.”

“You have high hopes for one so young, Madame,” Francois said as he looked at her. “Is she up to it?”

“She has to be. She is the Slayer,” Joyce said simply. She smiled sadly at Francois. “I don’t like it, I can’t understand it, but my child has a destiny. A destiny I truly hate. Garoth will be defeated, because if Buffy fails, the world will suffer.”

“And if you think that the demon could defeat the Slayer, then Garoth has already won,” Joao said quietly. Francois and Joyce turned to look at her. But Joao only had eyes for Joyce. “Is that not right, Joyce? We cannot let him feed on our fears. Or our hopelessness.”

Joyce gave her a small smile as she squeezed Joao’s hand. “You got that right, Joao.” She looked at Francois and gave him a small nod. “Excuse me, please. I have to speak to Rupert about something.”

As Joyce left to speak to her man, Joao looked at hers. He was troubled and refused to look at her, so she touched his face gently. “Francois?”

His teeth clenched, Ethan seethed with rage as he thought about what Joyce said. Who the hell was she that she could read him easily? Who the fucking, bloody hell was she to judge him? She never lived his life! She never knew what it was like to be him, to grow up poor. To be treated as something even the dustman would refuse to take.

Ethan watched as Joyce spoke to the slave girl. He felt his eyes heat up as he stared daggers into his back, but she just ignored him. She thought that she was better than he was. The little bitch didn’t know what it was like to clench her teeth as she begged for a favor from the stupid oafs who considered themselves her betters. She never knew what it was like to sell her body just to get something to eat. She never knew what it was like to open yourself for the first time, then have everything you were thrown back at your face.

His eyes narrowed as Joyce made her way to Ripper. His fists clenched as Ripper held out a hand to her and his eyes lit with interest as she spoke to him. She didn’t know what it was like to be him, her with her perfect little world, just like Ripper’s. And now she was moving on to Ripper, enticing him with her mocked-up courage. Well, he would fix that.

The world owed him, and he planned to take it, mold it and own it. And that included whatever Ripper wanted. Whatever Ripper wanted would be his, and Ethan Rayne would own it all and the man himself. He would do it whatever way he could, and when he was done, he would hold the world in his hand, Ripper at his knees and Joyce on a leash. Joyce would suffer for the truth she spat into his face. And to do that best, his revenge would have to include her, Ripper and her daughter.

Francois looked at Joyce’s retreating back, and mused, “If all the nobility of my time had acted as she, then the Revolution would have been different.”

“For one not of the nobility, Joyce is a lady,” Joao said softly. Startled, Francois looked at her, nodded, then looked down. Joao frowned as he avoided looking at her. “Francois? What is wrong?”

“She was right about me, you know,” Francois said as he looked at his feet. He lifted his head, and Joao saw his face was filled with shame. “I cared more about beating the English’s head in more than I cared about drying your tears. I should be shot for doing that.”

“For wanting to beat the English’s head in?” Joao asked.

Francois shook his head vehemently. A cold knot had formed in his stomach, he didn’t want to talk about this, but the American was right. He should apologize to his Joao for wanting to beat in the English’s head in more than he wanted to comfort her. “Never for that. For wanting to beat him before I dried your tears. I should have made sure that you were all right before I attacked the English.”

“Yes, I think you should have,” Joao agreed softly as she looked at him. “But she also made a point about us and Garoth, I think.” She waited until he looked at her. “This place, these caves, we all know from Muhyi that they show us our greatest guilt, fear and pain. Many of us were warned about the caves by the others who had been, in turn, were warned by the Druid. I-we must not let our anger and fears control us, my love. It is like Joyce said, if we attack ourselves, Garoth will win our souls without him even being near us.”

Francois remained silent as he thought about what Joao said. Then he looked at her. “Oui, it is like the old parable of sticks by Aesop. We would fall if we fight amongst ourselves.”

Joao smiled. “So I will learn to control my tears and pain while you will learn to control your temper and not beat in the English’s head in, my love. And we will both be tres bon, oui?”

“I do not deserve you, ma cherie,” Francois said as his kissed Joao’s knuckles. He looked at Ethan Rayne, then at Joyce and Rupert Giles. “My temper would not let me see it, but Joyce’s English is far better than Ethan, is he not? He controls his temper like a man, she is most lucky to have him, oui?”

Joao looked at Joyce and her man, she smiled when he saw his hand move the hair from her face. “Oui, but does he realize that he is lucky to have her?”

Francois gave a shrug, then looked at her. “If he does not, then he is a fool. And for an Englishman, Giles does not strike me as a fool.”

“No, he is not, my friend,” Kattenheinrich said as he came up to his friends. He looked down at Joao. “Are you all right, Joao? I, too, have come to apologize for my behavior. For not taking care of you.”

“I will be fine, my friend,” Joao said with a small smile. Kattenheinrich looked at her, then nodded.

Then he looked at the Frenchman. “Giles has asked for help in protecting Frau Joyce. He thinks that Rayne will attack Joyce, and I agree. I will help protect her, will you?”

“What a question to ask a Frenchman?” Francois said with a shake of his head. “From my time, it was national policy to protect les femmes.”

When Joao let out a small giggle, Francois let go of the cold knot in his stomach. He looked at his friend, and saw the stiffness in his friend’s posture recede. They smiled at each other as they looked over Joao’s head. The two of them for the moment happy that she was at peace with herself once more.

Garoth growled, as he smelled the disgusting scent of hope in the stale air. It would not happen, there would be no hope in this prison. He would forbid it from sprouting in the hearts of his prey, tainting their taste. Concentrating, he opened his mouth and let out a foul breath. His breath gathered into a small cloud as he stared at it. “As I breathe, the souls shall tremble. As I breathe, fear in their hearts to make all things real. As I breathe, the dark whispers in their minds are real. Let their screams fill the air.”

Whirling a clawed finger within the foul air, he blew at it again, dispersing it into the tunnels. Garoth laughed as the cloud spread and became a fine mist. “Let the nightmares begin, and let hope die.”

Giles watched as Joyce made her way towards him. He smiled inwardly because she was gnawing her lip and her brow was knitted with worry. Buffy often did those things when her mind was occupied. He held his hand out to her, and she took it, giving him a wary smile. “I take it that your talk with Joao did not go well.”

Joyce let out a wave of her hand as she looked up at him. “That was fine, I think that Grilliot is making up with her. I don’t want to turn around to see if I’m right, so is he?”

Amused, Giles flicked his eyes to look at Joao and Grilliot. They both seemed in deep discussion, with Kattenheinrich waiting for a chance to speak to them. His eyes then flicked to look at Jerrod, who leaned against the cave wall, lost in deep thought. He then looked down at Joyce when she made a small sound of impatience. “Yes, they are talking right now.”

“Good,” Joyce said with satisfaction. Then she frowned. “I think I may have a small problem, Rupert.”

“Only a small one amongst our many,” Giles murmured with a small smile. He wiped the smile off his face at her serious look. “What’s wrong?”

“Other than the fact that I can feel Ethan and Jerrod shooting daggers at my back, I think that I’m going to have a problem acting as a demure female if we’re going to be stuck here,” Joyce said as she looked up at him. “Joao said that when she first came here, she had to seek the protection of a man here, named Argus. He’s dead now, and so is most of his crew. But she is under the protection of Grilliot, he challenged Argus for her and won. Now, I know that most of the time Buffy can take care of herself, but-“

“If she gets ambushed, there may be no way she could not be punished if they think like a male from an earlier time,” Giles finished for her. When Joyce simply stared at him with horror and her mouth wide open, he mentally cursed himself. Joyce had simply not thought of that possibility. “But I have no doubt that Buffy would be able to handle them.”

Even in the gray world of the Gem, Giles could tell that her face was still uncommonly white. Joyce worked out the words from her mouth. “But is she’s ambushed-taken by surprise-these men could-they could-“

“They will not hurt Buffy,” Giles said softly as he touched her cheek. Joyce’s lips started to tremble. “She is the Slayer, our only true defense from Garoth. And if anyone wishes to survive that demon, they will not harm Buffy.”

Taking several deep breaths, Joyce nodded. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips then she bit her lower one. Giles had to close his eyes to before he started to smile. At her present state he did not think that Joyce would appreciate his observation that Buffy often did the same mouth motions while in her calming thought mode. “Right. They won’t harm Buffy, you and she will make sure of that. Right? Right. Anyway, what I-what I wanted to know was that I know that you told everyone that I’m your fiancée, but is that enough protection for Buffy and me? I mean, we don’t have to apply to Ethan or Jerrod for help do we?”

Giles thought about it. He was absolutely sure that neither men would lift a hand to protect Joyce or Buffy, not unless doing so would be a means to save their own hides. So that meant that he would have to be the one to protect and take care of Joyce while he watched Buffy’s flank. “I do not think that either men would help us, not unless their own lives were in danger.”

“Especially after my scathing comments about them,” Joyce winced as she remembered what she said. “I guess that leaves you to be the knight in shining armor for Buffy and me, Rupert.”

To be quite honest, a part of him liked the idea that Joyce was under his protection and that he would act as a knight to protect her honor. It gave him the illusion that she belonged to him, that she was his lady, if only for a little while. He shook his head at the image. “Yes. I should be enough to cover you both if there are any problems, Joyce. And, rest assured, I will fight for you if anyone challenges me for you-and Buffy.”

Joyce’s heart leapt at the thought of Rupert protecting her, but she didn’t want that to happen. She didn’t want anyone hurt on account of her. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Rupert. The men here are from an earlier time and are used to that sort of violence.”

His pride stung, Giles said stiffly, “So you think that I wouldn’t be a match for them, Joyce?”

“When you don’t get knocked on the head, you’re more than a match for anybody, Rupert,” Joyce said quickly. “But if there’s a bunch of them- I just don’t want you to get hurt on account of me.“

“Don’t worry, I won’t get hurt,” Giles promised as he moved a strand of hair away from her face. He cupped her face. “We will get out of here, Joyce.”

“I know we will. You and Buffy will figure out a way to get us out,” Joyce said firmly. Then she blurted out, ”And I want to learn how to fight, just in case. Please, Rupert?”

“Didn’t we have this discussion before?” Giles asked. “I thought we agreed I would teach you as soon as we had the time and privacy to do it.”

Joyce felt her face turning red. “I just didn’t want you to forget your promise. To-to teach me how to defend myself from demons.”

“I don’t ever forget my promises to you, Joyce,” Giles said softly. At her unsure look, he forced himself to smile. “I promised Buffy that I would take care of you, and I will, Joyce.”

“Oh, that girl worries about me too much, and so do you, Rupert,” Joyce said with a forced smile. She tried not to think that it would have been nice for him to say that he was protecting her because he wanted to, not because he had to. “But don’t worry, once I know how to defend myself, and when we get out of this crystal, you won’t have to protect me anymore and I can finally leave you alone to-to whatever you like to do on your own.”

“That-that would be a special day, wouldn’t it?” Giles said with a forced smile. [It would be a most lonely day as well. To not be needed anymore, by anyone.]

Joyce was about to say something else when she heard shout at the far end of the cave. She looked up at Rupert, whose attention was arrested to a point behind her. Turning, she heard saw Muhyi shout, "Buffy! We are reunited with the others! Allah be praised!"

”Buffy!” Joyce shouted happily then watched in horror as Buffy’s lovely face suddenly transformed in to a vampire’s face. She felt her feet moving on their own volition. “Buffy! Buffy! What happened?”

Muhyi turned in horror as he saw Buffy turn into a vampire. He staggered backwards as Buffy smiled at him. He froze as she looked at him hungrily. "Good, 'cause I'm hungry."

“Buffy! Muhyi! What happened? Buffy!” Joyce screamed as she headed towards her daughter. A pair strong hands suddenly grabbed her from behind, preventing her from moving closer to Buffy. Joyce half-turned to see who stopped her, not ten feet away from her child.

Giles didn’t look down at her, but her squeezed her shoulders. Before she could even think to struggle, he growled, “Do as I say and be still, Joyce.”

Joyce looked at him then at Buffy, confusion and horror was etched on her face. “How-there are no vampires here? How-why-what-“

“Stuttering, Mom? You really should take care of that,” said Buffy as she at her mother and laughed harshly. She approached her mother slowly. “Why what do you mean? What do you think happened, Mother dear? I’m your nightmare!”

“Aiming to fuck my mother silly again, Giles? Least cave has more privacy than doing it on top of a police car twice,” Buffy sneered as her eyes narrowed as she looked at her Watcher holding her mother. “But wait, maybe not. Knew I should have killed you, Giles. She may be not much of a mother, but hey, she’ll still make a great meal. And so will you-”

“No!” Joyce whispered harshly as she broke away from Giles’s grip. She shook her head frantically as she went closer to her daughter, her baby girl. “This-this is not possible! Buffy-”

“Oh, yes, it is! Come on and give me a drink!” Buffy snarled as she approached her mother. She stopped and let out a snarl when a cross was thrust into her face. “Giles! You had a cross on you? You bastard!”

“Never-never leave home without it,” Giles said coldly as he forced Buffy back. He spared a glance at Muhyi who was still staring at Buffy in horror. “What happened? How did Buffy become a vampire?”

“I don’t know-I don’t know!” Muhyi babbled as he stared at Buffy. “We never met any vampire here-we never saw a vampire here-“

“Well, you’re seeing one now,” Buffy snarled. She glared at Giles. “Hiding behind a cross, Giles? How manly of you! Least Ripper had some guts to come after a vamp without one! Come on old man, I’ll even tie one hand behind my back just for you. Have at it, you stupid wimp.”

“I got smarter,” Giles said as he gave her a smile that promised violence. From the corner of his eye, he saw Katterheinrich approach Buffy. “Muhyi, get off the floor and tell us what happened, did you see any vampires?”

“Only when we first went through the cave and we saw-we saw our greatest guilt,” Muhyi stammered as he slowly stood. Then he looked at Giles. “Then we-we went through our guilt- and we saw the Druid in the guise of a young black woman, a Slayer. He said we had to go through-through a fire of fear.”

“You saw Kendra,” Joyce said softly. She looked at her daughter, remembering how Buffy had a rough time over the summer knowing that her friend, the only girl that was like her, was dead. “Oh, dear God.”

“Give the bright bulb a gold star,” Buffy sniped as she inched closer to Giles. Then hissed when the cross came back up. “And it only took you less than three minutes to understand what’s going on? Not like the past five years!”

“You keep your trap shut,” Giles ordered as he glanced at Muhyi. Just that second, Buffy let out a roar and leapt at Giles. With a finely honed instinct, Giles roared as he swatted the cross at her face while she was in mid-air.

Buffy screamed as the cross burned her face, making her land on the cave floor with a thud. Her natural Slayer’s agility made her roll up again on to her feet. As she snarled at Giles, she suddenly swung back, catching the knife that the German was about to gut her with. She yanked his hand backwards, snapping his wrist. “Back stabbing, Kaiser boy!”

As Karl screamed in pain, Grilliot tackled her from behind, forcing all three on to the ground. Giles quickly pinned one arm down while Muhyi grabbed other arm and Grilliot grabbed her legs. Buffy screamed, ”Mother fucking son of a bitches! I’ll kill you! Get off of me you fucking assholes!”

“Buffy, this is going to hurt me more than you,” Joyce said as she brought a rock down on her daughter’s head, knocking her out. Unaware of the tears rolling down her face, she looked at Giles who was breathing heavily. “We need-we need to-to tie her up before she-“

“Tie her up?” Ethan shouted as he came over. “Are you stupid? She’s a fucking bloody vampire! Kill her and be done with it!”

“Yeah, kill the bitch before she wakes up,” Jerrod said as he stood away from the small group. “She’d do the same to us!”

“You’re not going to kill my daughter!” Joyce shouted as she stood protectively over her daughter. “No-no she’s not! She can’t be-there are no-Rupert-“

Giles hesitated as he looked down at the unconscious vampire Buffy. He looked up at Joao as she, too, stood away from the group. “Joao, we need to have some sort of rope or vine to tie her-“

Joao nodded as she started to undo her belt made of vines. Grilliot looked at the Englishman in disbelief. “Le fou! Mon Dieu! Are you mad? They are correctement! She will kill us if she has a chance! We must kill her!”

“No! Buffy won’t kill us!” Joyce screamed as she looked at Grilliot. “This is not Buffy! Something-something happened-“

“She is a vampire now, Frau Joyce,” Karl gasped as he looked at her. He lifted his broken wrist, holding it up as high as he could. “She snapped my wrist, your daughter would not do this, but this vampire did. I agree with Rayne, she must die if we are all to live.”

“No! I won’t let you kill my daughter!” Joyce shouted as she grabbed a rock. The same one that she had hit Buffy with. “I’d kill you all first! Something happened, damn it! Something had to have happened! Tell them Rupert!”

Willow smiled as she entered the Summers living room. Life was starting to look up, they found a book. Well, okay, several that might help them get Buffy and everybody back. So it was great. Still smiling, she looked down at her friends, then shrieked in horror.

Oz came running into the room first with Wesley right behind him. “Willow! What’s wrong? What’s-“

Pointing, Willow babbled. “Look at Buffy! Look at her cheek! Look!”

Wesley and Oz looked down, and saw a black cross-shaped mark on Buffy’s delicate face.

All faces flung to him, and Giles looked at the tears on Joyce’s face to Buffy’s vampiric one. His eyes locked on Joao’s. “Buffy must die if we can not find out what happened to her.”

Joyce let out a heavy sigh of relief as Ethan growled, “Ripper, damn it! Do your job, man. Kill her! She’s a damn vampire, you know that you’re supposed to-“

“Shut up, Ethan,” Giles said coldly, his temper barely under control. His hazel eyes turned into almost a black-green. “I know what I should do, I know my duty to the innocent and my Slayer, better than you could or would ever know. If she is a true vampire, then I will do my duty to her and she will be slain by my hand. And my hand alone.”

As Joao handed Giles her belt and he started to tie Buffy with it, Ethan snarled at him, “The Ripper I knew would have killed the vampire or demon, no matter who it used to be, no questions asked. And fuck the consequences later after everyone’s survived-Argh!“

“The Ripper you knew would also have beaten you or fucked you silly, just on a whim,” Giles said coldly as he stood above Ethan’s sprawled form, his hands fisted. Even in the grayness, everyone could see that his face flushed with anger. “But I am not that man anymore, Ethan. You’d best remember that.”

Cupping his aching jaw, Ethan snarled, ”Oh, I think you still are. Deep inside, you know that as much as I do. And one day, you’ll snap and everyone around you will be dead because you couldn’t hold it in anymore-Ow!“

“Bullshit,” Joyce said succinctly. Her eyes were cold as she glared at Ethan’s fetal form. “You’re such an asshole, Ethan. Rupert would never harm anyone, not unless extreme circumstances warranted it. I know it, you know it.” She lifted her head slightly to look at Rupert. She licked her lips, but her voice never wavered. “Buffy once told me-she told me that if she would ever become a vampire, consider her dead. Just stake her body before she hurt anyone. She wanted that. But it won’t be Rupert that’ll stake her. It’ll be me, I brought her into this world and it’ll be me to take her out of it.”

Joyce stared at Giles, willing him to understand. Then Giles’s jaw hardened, and he looked away. Tears started to form in Joyce’s eyes, but she held them back as she looked down to glare at Ethan. “Try and hurt my daughter or Rupert again, Ethan, and I’ll do more than just kick you in the nuts. I’ll spend the rest of my days to make you a fuckless eunuch.”

“Bitch,” Ethan gasped. “You think you’re better than me? You? The moron who hides her head behind her daughter’s skirts?”

“This bitch knows she is,” Joyce shot back. Ignoring him, she looked at Buffy’s Watcher. “How do we change her back?”

“Mother Moron is right,” Buffy snarled as her eyes popped open. She hissed as she rolled on to her feet and struggled with the vines. “She’s a bitch. I mean what kind of mother would kill her own kid?”

She butted Grilliot and Muhyi away, and then she looked at Giles. “And what kind of sick bastard would inject poison her own Slayer all for the sake of a tradition? I mean really, you have to be sick to make a defenseless girl-”

“Shut up,” Giles gritted out as he tried to approach her. “You know that I was pressured into-“

“Face a sadistic vampire in a walled up house,” Buffy continued. She sneered at him. “But then what do I expect from a man that killed his own friend? Or his slut, my mother?”

“Kill you, kill me, kill what you will, naturally,” Buffy sang as she jumped back from Giles’s feint. “Getting old there, old man. Can’t seem to make the moves anymore.” She looked at her mother. “And you think he’s really that good in the sack? Boy, he must fall asleep while doing it.” She smiled at Ethan. “Still want to stick your dick into the old woman’s leftovers, cocksucker?”

“He’s my leftovers, you little bitch,” Ethan snarled at her. “And where I stick it-“

“Is in your hand? But wait, oh, yeah. That’s right, my mother kicked them in, so you won’t be sticking it in anyone for sometime,” Buffy sneered as she worked one arm free. “She almost never finishes what she starts but don’t worry, I’ll rip your dick off just for you.”

“Most kind of you, but I’ll pass,” Ethan snarled as he looked at her. “No wonder the long suffering Angel left you for parts unknown, you probably froze his bollocks cold when he fucked you.”

“Only you’d think so, I know I was the best piece of ass he had,” Buffy laughed. Then suddenly, there was a blur of motion as someone charged at Buffy, but this time, she was ready. She pivoted, so that Jerrod ended up sprawled against the cave wall. But while pivoting, she was tackled from behind. She roared as her mother started to hit her with a rock. Buffy shoved a hand up, making her mother fly back. “Get of me you old bitch!”

Just as Buffy was about to pounced on her mother, she screamed as something burning was placed on her back. Swirling, she saw Ethan hold a smoking cross and smiling coldly. “Got you, bitch!”

Buffy raised a hand to strike him when she was flipped over, and Giles was on top of her. Someone held down her legs as she struggled. “First you fuck the mother now you want a piece of the kid? You’re a sick one, Giles!”

“Buffy, do shut up,” Giles gritted out as he brought his left fist down and smashed it against her face. Then another, and another. Screaming obscenities at him, she started to claw at Giles’s face. “You are not Buffy! You’re not!”

Giles kept hitting until he saw nothing, felt nothing as his hands rained punches down. Then suddenly, he was pushed away. Sprawled on the cave floor, he looked up to see Joyce’s crying face. “Rupert! Rupert! That’s enough! That’s enough!”

His chest heaving, Giles stared at Buffy’s inert figure, stunned. Sobbing, Joyce gathered Buffy’s unconscious figure to her chest, and rocked her. “That’s enough, Rupert. That’s enough.”

He staggered back, his eyes focused on the blood trickling down from the corner of Buffy’s lips. “My God…what have I done?”

“See? See? I told you Ripper would come out,” Ethan panted as he shot Giles a look. “The mad fucker strikes again. Good job, mate.”

“No, no, no, no,” Giles said frantically. He clutched his head as he tried to block out what he had done to Buffy. His Slayer. “I am not Ripper, it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault-“

“The whose fault was it? The Easter bunny’s?” Ethan sneered as he looked at Ripper. “At three fists on the face, she was out. Those others-“

“No, no, no,” Giles shouted as he put his hands over his ears. Desperate, he looked at Joyce, his eyes pleading for her to tell him he hadn’t lost control of himself. That he hadn’t hurt Buffy. That he hadn’t-that he wasn’t about to kill her with his bear hands…His heart dropped when he saw the fear in her eyes. She was afraid. She was afraid of him. “Joyce, you know- you know that I’d- that I wouldn’t hurt you or Buf-“

“It-it wasn’t your fault,” Joyce interrupted before he could finish her daughter’s name. She closed her eyes to take deep breath. “I know it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t mean to- you-” Words failed her. She looked at Buffy’s unconscious face. Her daughter still had the ridges of a vampire, but she still cuddled her close to her breast. “We have to tie her up again, make sure that she does get loose. We have to-“

Giles fell to his knees, his face buried into his hands. It was a nightmare, his fears were coming true. The darker part of him, the angry part of him, the more dangerous part of his soul was coming out. It was a nightmare come true. “No-“

Muhyi hesitated as he approached Joyce. “She is-she is too danger-“

“No! You’re not killing my daughter!” Joyce shouted at him. Her lips trembled as her eyes narrowed. “I’d kill you first.”

“You can’t protect her from all of us, Joyce,” Ethan said as he gripped the cross in front of him. Joyce’s eyes flicked to see Grilliot hold Karl’s knife in front of him. Jerrod held a stone in his hand. Joao stood protectively over Karl. “Give her to us and we’ll make it quick.”

Joyce shook her head and held her daughter tighter. This was too horrible! It was a nightmare come true. Buffy was a vampire and these people were trying to kill her. “No! You can’t have her! Rupert-”

“Like you really care for the rest of this bunch, Ethan,” drawled a voice. “What a fucker you are!”

Ethan turned to snipe at Ripper, but his jaw dropped. Gone was the loose jeans, sweater and tweed jacket. In their place were jeans that were molded like second skin, a tight T-shirt and a leather jacket. A cigarette dangled from his mouth, and an earring winked in his ear. It was Ripper, but it was Ripper from twenty years back. Ethan’s mouth started to work. “Ripper? What-what happened to you? How-why-”

“Stuttering your gob still, Ethan?” Ripper sneered as his eyes rolled down the body of his former lover. “Nothing ever changes.” He looked over to leer at Joyce. “Hey, baby. What are you up to?”

“Mon Dieu! What happened to you?” Grilliot nearly shouted as he stared at the changed Englishman. “Who-what-“

“Why should you worry about him, Francois?” shouted a voice. Everyone looked towards the rear entrance of the cave. A man dressed in the courtier’s dress of the early 1800’s France. He brandished a sword. “C’est moi that you must worry about.”

“Maurice,” Grilliot whispered harshly. “But you are dead!”

“As dead as I am, I suppose. But we are here anyway, Herr Grilliot,” said a soft voice. “Is that not right, Karl?”

“Adelaide,” Karl whispered as he looked at her. She was dressed in the same way when last he saw her. Her golden hair was tied up in a red scarf, her brown coat that he had given her for Christmas covered her small frame. But her face, her face was that of a starved person. Her brown eyes bulged as they looked at him. “You-you are here-“

“Where else would I be?” Adelaide laughed softly. “You said we would always be together, that you would honor and protect me. And you did. You sent me to your relocation center. They kept me quite safe. No one was allowed to beat except the guards, no one was allowed to rape me except the guards, no one was allowed to torture me except the commandant and his guards. I was quite safe, Karl.”

Kattenheinrich grabbed his heart as his head shook frantically. “No-no-no! This is a nightmare!”

“As is should be, friend of my cursed son,” intoned a regal voice. Muhyi froze as he heard that voice. Slowly he turned to see his mother look at him scornfully, his younger brothers were gathered by her side. “You are still alive in this hell I see, most ungrateful son of mine.” Her brown eyes flicked over to the man behind him. “And you have a new friend as well. One who does not honor his parents like you.”

“He was always such a bad boy,” purred a voice. Jerrod froze as he saw his mother, then his father. “Wasn’t that right, dear?”

“It was ever so, darling,” Jerrod’s father said. He looked at Jerrod. “He was always a disappointment to me. Even when I was alive, mean what son gives into the seductions of his mother?”

Joao looked around her, terror filling her as she saw her friends facing their fears. Then she heard, “You should have taken your punishment, Joao. Because you have not, the little ones must suffer as well.”

Joao spun around, her heart choking her throat. Niall stood before her, the strong vines he used to punish her with looped around his belt. And in his arms were a small boy and girl, both of them emaciated, bleeding and looking at her with accusing eyes. Eyes that were the same shape and color as her own. Niall laughed harshly. “What no words for your children, Joao?”

Ethan cautiously approached Ripper. “I say, you’re looking a bit-dapper.”

“Surprised?” Ripper said coolly. “Shouldn’t be, mate.”

Ripper gave the man a half-snarl and half-leer. “You’re looking less than dapper yourself, Ethan.”

“It’s these blasted caves,” Ethan said as he looked around, waiting for his fear to begin. “Seems like our greatest fears are supposed to-“

“Yeah, yeah, this is hell and you’re all supposed to be scared of something. Big deal,” Ripper said as he crushed out a cigarette. He headed towards Joyce. ”I have other things on my mind right now.”

Ethan watched, stunned as Ripper yanked Joyce up, then crushed his mouth against hers as he yanked her leg up and hooked it around his waist. He ground his hips against her juncture as she yanked her mouth away. Without pausing, he moved his mouth down to the side of her neck as hand snuck under her blouse and started rhymically squeezing that soft mound.

Joyce gasped as Ripper buried his face into her neck, sucking hard at the pulse there, and squeezing her breast. She fought the fierce arousal that rammed into her system as she started to swat ineffectually at Rupert’s head. “Rupert! Rupert! Stop! We can’t! We can’t do this now!”

Ripper lifted his head from her neck and leered as he cupped her bottom and ground her pelvis into his. He grinned at her as she let out a sudden, high- pitched mewl. “I thought we talked about this before, we certainly can do this now, baby.” He hovered his mouth just above hers. “And the name’s Ripper, love. We’ll talk about going at it after you get it right.”

Ethan stared as he saw Ripper crushing his mouth against Joyce’s again, forcing her to accept his kiss. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he knew he was in hell now.

Still stunned by the mark on Buffy’s face, Willow buried her face into Oz’s shoulder. “It-it looks like a cross burn. But who-how-“

“My God!” Wesley shouted as he scrambled back from Buffy’s prone body. Everybody stared as bruises suddenly appeared on Buffy’s face, then a trickle of blood broke forth from her mouth. His eyes locked on to the crystal. “My god! Something must be happening in there! To Buffy’s soul!”

“She must be fighting! She had to be fighting for her life!” Willow said, her face filled with horror. “And we’re not there to help her! Oh, God!”

“Easy, Will,” Oz soothed as he stroked her back. “She has Giles and her mom there. She’s not alone.”

Willow took a deep breath and nodded. “Right. Giles is there. Giles will take care of her.”

Oz nodded as he pointed at Giles’s hands. “See? His hands are bruised as well. Whatever he is doing there, he is protecting Buffy.”

“Quite right,” Wesley said as he gathered the Chronicle. “Let us hurry and research. We must get them all out of there as soon as possible.”

The trio left the room, not noticing that Daniels’s hand started to twitch again.