Betas: Slaymesoftly and Mabel_Marsters. A huge thanks to Slaymesoftly for her help on making this one much better.

Soul Survivors
Chapter Seven: Watchers and Slayers


As Buffy went flying into Spike’s arms, he held on a little longer than necessary. She growled and pushed away, coming at Faith like a football player and plowing into the slayer’s stomach with her shoulder. They were still wrestling on the floor when Xander and Willow came through the back door.

Xander stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes glazing over as he watched. Instinctively, Spike felt the need to march across the room to put his hands around the boy’s throat. However, looking back at the two girls rolling around on the mat, he knew he couldn’t fault the boy; he was just as fascinated by the spectacle. He glanced in Xander’s direction and grinned at Willow, who was leaning to the right behind her friend, watching as well. The little witch was interested in the Slayer, even if she protested to the contrary. He made a mental note to pass that observation on to Buffy when they had a moment alone.

Willow licked her lips before she caught Spike’s knowing smirk; Giles frowned at the blond vampire in confusion when he burst out laughing. The red head straightened up to hide behind Xander.

Looking as if she hadn’t a care in the world, Faith sat on Buffy‘s backside. Buffy struggled, flat out on her stomach, grunting as she tried to get up.

“Had enough, B?”

Spike took a step forward, holding a hand out to Faith before helping Buffy up. “Actually, now that Velma and Shaggy are here, I think it’s time for that meeting.”

Faith’s snickering was interrupted by Anya’s return from the office.

“Hi, Xander.” The two-time ex-demon waved quickly before turning to Giles. “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon with those plans.”

Giles nodded. “Great, I’ll see you then.”

“And please, Giles, tell that British guy to stop calling. He’s really annoying.”

~*~*~*~*~*~


They sat around the table in the large office, waiting as Giles unlocked the drawer and pulled out the three books.

“I’ve called you altogether, because I have some important things I wish to discuss with you.”

Spike glared at him, knowing full well that this meeting wouldn’t be happening if he hadn’t insisted.

“What are those?” Willow asked curiously, as Giles handed her one of the diaries.

“Hold on to that for a minute and I’ll tell you.”

Buffy sat next to Spike with a frown marring her beautiful features.

Giles took his place down at the head of the table and took his time settling the two remaining books. His hands trembled as removed his glasses to polish them. He jumped when Spike’s patience ran out. “Let’s get on with it already!”

Xander’s eyes narrowed as he looked from the Watcher to Spike and back again. “What does Deadboy Jr. know that we don’t?”

Giles held up a hand. “I’m going to need your help; so if we could refrain from the name calling and accusations, I’ll go on.”

Holding up the large black book, he quickly glanced at Buffy. “This book has opened my eyes to something about which I have been kept completely in the dark. I knew the Council held secrets that I was not privy to, but I did not know the extent of it.”

Giles slapped the book down in an uncharacteristic show of temper, causing Willow and Xander to jump. The watcher gave Buffy a guilty look. “I took an oath, before I came to California for my assignment, before my peers, verbally and with my signature. I promised to do my duty to the end, but now I am quite certain that that’s an impossibility.”

“What kind of oath?” Faith asked.

“It’s long and involved, but one of the things I pledged to do was to make sure my Slayer did not get turned.”

Spike sat up straighter and glared at the man. Buffy was turned and there was nothing he could do about that.

“When a slayer dies, a watcher has one last duty,” Giles stated as if reading out of a textbook. “He is to stand vigil over the body for three days and if the slayer stays dead, she is to have a proper burial with dignity and honor due a Chosen One.”

Faith and Buffy shared a look and turned their attention to Willow, who was pointing at Giles. “That’s why you refused to let us bury her right away, the first time she died.”

“You are correct. I watched over her body, even knowing her cause of death had nothing to do with a vampire. It was my duty and I fulfilled it.”

Xander raised his hand and Giles stared at him pointedly. “So what would have happened if she had been turned by a vampire and rose in front of you?”

“I would have staked her.”

Spike stood up, his chair hitting the wall behind him and got between Buffy and the watcher. “You are not coming near Buffy!”

Giles put both hands up in front of him and winced. “I don’t plan to.”

When Spike continued to tower over him, glaring with gold flicking in his eyes, something snapped in Giles. “Sit down!” He yelled. And was even more surprised when Spike complied.

“There are things that I didn’t know then, but from what I’ve read already in this book, I now know that there are things that have been kept from those of us in the field. A lot of things.”

He opened the book and turned a few pages, before looking up. “Let me read this to you.” He cleared his throat. “In conclusion, every slayer that is turned will rise with a soul. The creators saw fit to add this clause, knowing that being turned was a very real possibility for every slayer. It is a safety measure, a net. When a slayer rises as a vampire, she will not wish to harm the humans that she has so long been chosen to protect and it is a guarantee that she will not be sent to hell when she is dusted. Her watcher can safely and confidently deal the deathblow, knowing that she intends him no harm and that her slayer powers have been transferred at her death to the new chosen one. She would be just a fledgling and would be easy to kill.”

Giles looked at the shocked group who stared at him with open mouths in silence, with the exception of Spike.

The vampire leaned forward and asked, “So, you are saying that all Slayers who are turned become souled vampires?”

“That does seem to be the case. I swear that I did not know this. In school, stories were passed around about a slayer that had been turned and was reported to have a soul, but none of us believed it.”

Faith folded her arms and glared at Giles. “So if a vamp got me and decided to turn me, I’d be just like Buffy? I’d have a soul, too?”

“Yes, it seems you would. But you would loose your slayer powers.” He quickly glanced at Buffy before turning the pages of the book to the front. “There is more that we were kept in the dark about in Watcher School. It says here that the first Slayer was infused with a powerful demon.” He looked up at them. “It does not name the demon, but it says that the demon was willing.”

This time, it was Faith who stood up. “Are you saying that I have a demon inside of me? That’s why I’m so strong?”

“Yes. And when you die, the demon jumps to the next Chosen One in line. It appears that for the last few years, it was somehow in two places at once.”

“So, in a sense, Buffy just exchanged one demon for another,” Xander stated in awe.

Spike sat back with his arm around Buffy’s shoulders and watched Willow directly across from him. She was turning the pages of the book in front of her in rapid succession. “What have you got there, Red?”

“Where did you get this, Giles?” she asked, not looking up from the pages.

“That is one of two watcher’s diaries that my cousin Aida found bundled together with this Head Council Book.”


“Well there are some marked entries.” Willow flipped to the first page again.

Xander leaned over and peered at the book. “Have you ever heard of a watcher named: Trent Langley?”

Giles shook his head.

Xander squinted, tilting his head in confusion. “It says here that this is a translation of Langley’s original diary. Why would they need to translate it. Watchers are always English, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” Giles said. “But English was very different in the 1400’s.”

Putting her finger on a page, Willow said, “The first entry is dated March 27th, 1456 and labeled with Chastenay, France. Here is what he says: I have met Jehanne. She is older than I expected at eighteen years old. Jehanne Moriau is of slight build with black hair and grey eyes. She is fair and from my first glance, I fear, I may not be able to perform my duties properly. I wonder if Dudley has not made a mistake, sending me out here. An older, more seasoned man perhaps could resist her charms. I’ll do my best, but the fulsome look she gave me, before she knew who I was… I’ll say no more.”

Willow looked up with wide eyes, and Faith leaned forward in her seat to say, “Seems the watcher and the slayer had the hots for each other.”

Willow flipped through a few pages.

“This one is dated July 12th, 1457; Paris, France. Jehanne had to save my life once again. She has surpassed me in all ways and I feel almost useless now. Verily, she is strong in body and spirit. I am amazed that the last year has not drained the life out of her. The things we have gone through would have made a weaker person go mad. I suppose she is the Chosen One for a reason.”

“And then this one dated February 2, 1460. Jehanne and I worked with the warlock for months and it is sad to report his death. He was a gentle soul and bravely fought with us. Sadly, we were not able to dispose of both vampires. I was able to stake Jade, but not in time to save Pierre. He died yesterday from an infection from the bite wounds. Jehanne was able to keep Jorges at bay, but he is an old vampire and not easily destroyed. He wailed mournfully as his mate turned to dust. I feel no compassion for him. How many people suffered at their hands in years past? I shiver thinking how he glowered at me, vowing to get his revenge, before he fled into the night.”



“The next entry is highlighted as well. It’s dated February 22, 1460 and says: This will be my last entry as a watcher.” Willow stopped, but kept her eyes on the page. She faltered, then continued.

“It is done. Jorges has had his revenge. He hounded us for days, threatening to cause me the same pain that he was suffering. We huddled together in our cottage, not going out, even in daylight. Jehanne had enough of it and she went after him. I begged her not to go, but she stared at me, with those piercing grey eyes, and asked me if I really wanted her to forget her duty. She stood tall and talked of honor. She was right of course and I feel ashamed of my cowishness, even now, knowing the outcome. She left at dawn telling me to stay behind and prepare the weapons. She was to track him and then come back to collect me and the arsenal for a surprise daylight attack. She never came back to me that day. I searched for her until the last possible moment, barely arriving back home as the last rays of the sun went behind the building. I lost all hope. I knew she was gone. One night later, she knocked on the door and my mind could not grasp at what I saw. My Jehanne was dirty, but the light was still there, in her eyes. She cried as she explained what happened. He was waiting for her in the catacombs. He drained her and turned her.”

She stopped reading and glanced at Buffy with a pained expression, but she waved her on.

So she read, “When she rose out of the earth later, he was nowhere to be found. She came to me as soon as she could. She said she could feel her soul; it was still there. I was amazed and I could see it was no vampire trick, but I could not invite her in, despite her entreatments. When she begged me to stake her, I wanted to kill myself instead. If that makes me weak, then so be it. How could I? I know I took an oath, and she begged me to do it; she did not want to exist in her undead state. I wished I had had enough strength to kill myself instead. I staked her. There at the front door of our home.”

Willow looked up again with tears in her eyes, unable to read further. Xander pulled the book over, cleared his throat and read.

“When I took that oath years ago, before coming to find Jehanne, I had no idea what I was pledging to do. Is keeping a soul something that would happen to all turned Slayers? I should like to think that my beautiful Jehanne was special and stronger than the chosen ones before, but I doubt that is the case.

I will send this diary to headquarters right off, but my bags are packed and I go another way. I must find Jorges. He must die for what he has done, or I will die trying. If I do make it and finish the task that I have set before me, then I will go back and I will expect answers from the others. I will also advise the elders to never send a younger watcher out to the field like that again. No matter how gifted the man may be, or how eager. Judgment cannot be clouded by emotions. That is all I have now.”

Faith broke the silence by slapping her hands on the table. “Well, I guess they didn’t take his advice. Wesley was really too young.”

Giles nodded his agreement while he ran his finger on the other diary.

Buffy gripped Spike’s hand and he could feel her distress without even looking at her. She let go and he flexed his hand.

“You were going to stake me?” she asked Giles, her eyes wide and troubled.

“No…I took an oath.” Giles gazed at her with tears in his own eyes. “When I first realized what happened to you, I despaired, but Spike said you had a soul. I wasn’t expecting that.” He shook his head. “The Council knew how much I cared for you. That is why they sent the wet crew out, knowing that I would not be able to do my duty. Travers said as much to me, when he was in town.”

Giles reached out and patted Buffy’s hand on the table.

“And he’s been hounding you ever since I chased him away, yeah?” Spike asked.

“Yes. He calls me every day. I have been holding them off the best I can, but they expect me to fulfill my oath. I am certain they will not let this go. My life is now in danger, as much as Buffy’s.”

“What about me?” Faith asked.

“I believe I have convinced them that you are doing the work you were chosen to do. Travers has assured me that as long as you keep patrolling and stand at the ready to battle the next big thing, they will leave you to it.”

Faith got up again. “I’m not their fucking puppet!”

“Good for you,” Spike said.

“Of course not. I think they know that.” Giles stated.

“So, these diaries?” Xander said. “I thought the current watcher has an all access pass to past diaries?”

“Yes, but there have always been missing years and diaries. I’m surprised to find only two with this book. I can only surmise that they didn’t want the knowledge about slayers turning with souls to get out. There is no way any watcher could agree to stake a slayer, who wished to stay alive, knowing that she still had a soul.”

“Can I see the other diary?” Buffy asked with her hand out.

Giles gently handed it to her and they all watched as she flipped through the pages, before going back to the front.

Buffy glanced up, took a deep breath and looked back down to read, “April 12th, 1618. Isle of Skye, Scotland. Locating Andra Mackinnon has proven more of a challenge than I thought. I want nothing more than to find this girl and bring her back to London. Why must they be called from all over the earth? It would be far more convenient if they would all be English. It has been a month, and yet I get no help from the people I come across. They do not appear hostile towards me, but many refuse to speak English and my Gaelic is sparse at best.

April 28th, 1618. I have found Miss Mackinnon. She is a slip of girl with a great deal of belligerence and fire to match her red hair. Even though she is very young--only fourteen--I have high hopes for the future. She is strong and hearty. I found her wandering the hills just as the woman in the village said I would. The things these people believe. The women described her as the Devil’s child with red hair, black eyelashes and vivid blue eyes. She was all of that, but I do not see how that makes her the Devil’s child. The first thing we will have to do is find the girl a pair of shoes. Andra was wary of me and she made curious threats to my person if I came too close to her. The village people gave us a wide birth as we entered it this evening. I will be greatly relieved to be leaving here. Andra will be too, I wager.”

Buffy stopped and flipped a few pages. She continued to turn pages as she said, “There aren’t any more highlighted entries--wait, here’s one:

February 20th, 1619, London England. Andra has been displaying strange behavior again. She leaves to patrol early and does not return home until well after sun up. Marcus has been sojourning with us again. He will make a fine watcher someday soon. I have asked him to follow her tonight and see what it is that she is doing.


March 04, 1619. Marcus is young and eager, but I cannot fathom the things he says. Truly, would a slayer fall in love with an evil vampire?”

Buffy stopped to glance up, but Xander waved at her to continue.

“This night, I will discover the truth, myself. The vampire, Torch, has come up often in conversation and Andra does indeed appear to change the subject. I have not caught sight of him in weeks, but we know he is still out there. Marcus says that he saw them conversing together last night by the river. I am sure he is mistaken. He was not close enough to tell, I am certain. There are many red haired men walking about this city. It was not Torch.”

Spike sat up straight. “Let me see that. I know of a vampire called Torch.” He pulled the book over in front of him and read,”

“April 02, 1619. Andra is like a daughter to me. I found her an orphan and have become too attached to her. I do not know what to do. She has been with me a year now, and she is the best slayer we have seen in years. I loath the thought of giving up my duties to even Marcus. I will have to go before the Council with my findings, however. I cannot keep this to myself. Marcus knows, of course, but he will say nothing and permit me to work this out. I am going to have to confront her. I did not want to believe it, I still do not, but why would a vampire save the life of a Watcher? Torch had the opportunity to kill me, yet I saw him with my own eyes dust his sire’s minions, before he shoved me out of the moving carriage. His words still send shivers down my spine. “For Andra’s sake, you live.” I cannot be objective, as I need to be. She is too close to my heart.”

Spike stopped. “I had no idea that he had a thing for a slayer, once upon a time.”

Giles perked up. “You’ve talked with this, Torch?”

“Yeah. Last time I saw him, we were in London in the early 1900’s. I was in a demon bar bragging about killing the Slayer during the boxer rebellion. He asked me if I turned her and I told him no. He’s a quiet one, but everyone respects him because he’s so old.” Spike gestured to his head. “His hair was more orange than red, like fire. Hence the name, Torch. Saw him a couple of times, while we were there, but like I said, he’s really quiet.”

Buffy took the diary back and continued.

“April 18, 1619. Andra has been willful yet sad. She says she loves that creature. How could she? He is a soulless demon. She cannot think for a minute that he loves her in return. She points out that he saved my life, and I cannot come up with a good reason why. After we had words, she ran off two nights ago, probably into the arms of that creature. If she is not back by morning, I will have to see the Council. I do not know what they will do, but I fear for her life.

April 25th, 1619. Last Entry. It has taken me days to write this and the pain is still fresh. Andra returned home, begging me to invite her in. I was so distressed and even knowing that it was probably a trap, I let her in. She hugged me and cried saying that it was not Torch’s fault. She had wanted it. Wanted to be like him so they could be together for all eternity. I do not know what Torch did wrong, but she was not turned properly. She still had her soul. Because of it, she could not live with what she had done and she had fled from her sire. Andra told me that she loved me like a Father and that she did not blame me for what had happened. She put her cold hand over my own and told me that I was a good man. We stayed together, conversing in the salon all night and I was glad that Marcus was not there. The thought of what I had to do was always in the forefront of my mind. It was torture. Nearing sunrise, I managed the courage to tell her of the oath that I taken. How could I kill her? She possessed a soul. Would I be condemning her to hell? When the sun was high over the city, she stood and said she was ready and instructed me to get a stake. When I got up, she ran and embraced me once more. I turned my back to get the stake and she ran for the door. I recall her saying something about being glad it was not a typical cloudy day and then I watched her run out into the courtyard. By the time I got to the door, there was nothing left of her but a bit of dust.

It ends there,” Buffy said sadly.