See Part 1
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Part Four
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Business at the Bronze was good as always. Talk about a captive clientele. The band was smoking as usual, teenagers were making fools of themselves on the dance floor, and one particular schoolgirl was meditating on the fate of the world and a few special souls.
"So, you talked with your friend?" Angela asked the Slayer.
"I did," Buffy answered. "He couldn't say anything conclusive, though. He found no record of your friend."
"Do you think vampires pose for a yearbook picture? Of course there is no record on Laurent! This friend... he's the librarian at your school, isn't he?"
Buffy raised an eyebrow.
"He's your, what do you call it, your Watcher?"
"You do know a lot," Buffy remarked.
"It pays to know. Words that Melissa lives by."
"Maybe we should introduce your witch friend to Giles," Willow put in. "They should get along very well. Besides, he lost his love recently."
"I don't think that would work, Willow," Angela said shaking her head. "Melissa is about our age, and she carries a lot of baggage."
"Back to the subject, shall we?" Buffy interrupted. "You said you and Laurent needed our help. What exactly does that mean?"
"Laurent is looking for a way to undo what Agnes did. He wants to be mortal again."
"Does he? And why does he think we can help him there? It's not as if he have faced a vampire with his kind of problem before," the Slayer said in a tight voice. They _had_ met such a vampire.
"You have the most ancient and complete texts on vampires, or at least your Watcher does. If a cure can be found, it's very likely that it will be inside those volumes."
"But there isn't," Willow remarked. "I mean, If we..." she made eye contact with Buffy, and trailed off.
"So you _have_ tried to find a cure for vampirism," Angela accused, eyebrows arching. "Anyone in particular you wanted to help?"
"We might as well get this out of the way, Angela," Buffy answered with a sigh. "The leader of the local vampires was... sort of my boyfriend. He was like Laurent."
"You mean he had a soul? Was he killed?" Angela inquired, her interest flaring.
"Not really. In his case, the presence of a soul was the result of a gypsy curse. Before that, he was as evil as any other vampire. Maybe more. Anyway, the curse expired, and he's evil now, and you really don't want to know anymore," Buffy was blushing as she stared at her milkshake, and looked terribly sad and nostalgic.
"I'm sorry. It must be harsh on you."
"It is. He's been hounding me ever since. Are you sure you don't want to reevaluate your relationship with Laurent? It hurts a lot when they break."
"I really wouldn't know what to do without him. But I trust him."
"I trusted Angel, too."
"Angel? _Angelus_ was your boyfriend?" Angela asked incredulously.
"You know him?" Buffy replied at once.
"Laurent met him. He talked to me about him."
"Ah. So when did your friend meet with the local criminal element?"
"The night after you attacked him."
"Funny, how I had to get him off an innocent girl and the story ends up saying that _I_ attacked _him_."
"I didn't mean it like that," Angela ammended hastily. "It was a misunderstanding. It wasn't his fault, or yours."
"What part did I misunderstand? The part when he was about to sink his fangs into the neck of that girl?"
Angela reddened. "He has to feed, Buffy."
"As far as that goes, I have to stop vampires from doing just that. If he didn't really want to, he could eat bottled blood, or just wait for sunrise on a rooftop. And I could retire and move to Florida, or jump off the Golden Gate bridge."
"Such a self-righteous little bitch, aren't you?" Angela remarked with icy anger.
"At least I didn't made a bargain with the _devil_."
Willow moved in to defuse the situation. "Buffy has a point, Angela. Taking blood from unwilling people is _wrong_. We are not cows."
"He's trying," Angela replied. "He knows every drop of blood he takes only makes the demon inside him stronger. But the demon is meshed with his being in a way that can't be easily ignored. Imagine taking a vow of hunger, and then walking through a street full of restaurants. When vampires really want to get rough on one another, they lock their enemies and prevent them from feeding. The frenzied hunger that results is not a pretty sight."
"You speak as if from personal experience." Willow pointed out.
"I saw one of those frenzying fiends. Was attacked by it." Angela shuddered at the recollection.
"Let me guess: Laurent saved you," Buffy concluded, a little annoyed.
Angela's eyes sparkled. "Oh, he did. He was magnificent!"
"So now you are a card-carrying member of the Laurent fan club. He owns you, lock, stock and barrel."
"I would never betray him, if that's what you mean. I've helped him against hunters in the past, and I would do it again. Even if the hunter in question calls herself the Slayer."
Byffy raised her hands conciliatorily. "Relax, Angela. I'm on your side. If your friend wants to be mortal again, I'm all for that. But I don't want you to ignore the very real dangers of relating to a vampire on that level."
"Someone tried to lay that on you? I mean, when you were with Angelus?"
"Angel," Buffy corrected, and thought of Giles. "Yes. Someone did."
"And how did you react?"
Buffy considered for an instant, and then sighed. "I guess you're right. Love makes you do the wacky."
"So? Will you help us?"
"What do you want me to do, Angela?" Buffy asked in frustration. "Cure him? I can't, I don't know how. Refrain from going at him with a stake? I can do that, at least until he becomes too vicious to ignore. But tomorrow night he will still be a vampire, and he will still hunger. A hundred years from now, you'll most likely be dead, and he'll still be walking the earth and hunting for blood." Why hadn't she seen those things when she was going with Angel? It would have made all so much easier.
"Something must be done. There _has_ to be something. And you owe it to him."
"Come again? What do I owe him?"
"He saved you. And it probably cost him what little good will he had from the Sunnydale bloodsucking community. They'll be hunting him now."
"They hunt for me every chance they get," Buffy replied simply. "I handle them."
"Not that easy when your powers depend on ingesting blood. Which you don't want to do."
"If I can help you friend against the other vampires, I will. Not because I owe him, but because it's my duty anyway."
"We could ask Giles if he can help out some," Willow intervened. "Maybe if he looks hard enough, he can find a cure for Laurent."
Buffy snorted. And if he does, she thought, I'll never forgive him for not helping Angel when we had the chance. God forgive me, but I won't be able to. "Sure," the Slayer said without conviction.
* * *
Giles was in the library. Alone. Researching. When Angel had been the only vampire with a soul on Earth, things had been simpler. Actually, things were simpler when there _was_ no good vampire. But now his Slayer had met one of those rara avis, and perhaps another one, and word of yet a third had come. It played havok with the simple worldview that allowed the Watcher to continue on and take pride in his work. How many "soulful" vampires might exist? How many might _not_ exist now, killed by the Slayers? He drove himself, searching in all the vampire biographies, looking for a clue on whether such a mistake had been ever made, whether a Slayer, through her Watcher's fault, had unwittingly commited such a murder.
"It's dangerous to stay late on a public place," a voice said beside him.
The librarian jumped, grabbing his crucifix. The intruder was _right_by_his_side! It was a vampire, and it was looking away from the crucifix, its mouth pulled in a grimace that revealed fangs. A low hiss came from its throat.
"Put that thing away, will you? I mean you no harm."
Giles studied the intruder. The face was youthful, revealing an intensity of feeling that would fit an artist. The eyes were giving off a golden glow that didn't allow for study of their expression. The hands were slender and delicate, pianist's hands.
"Laurent, I presume?" the Watcher asked.
"In the flesh. _Now_ can you put it away?"
Giles warily lowered his relic. "I warn you. I've faced your kind before. I know your tricks."
"Is that so? If I wanted you dead, sorcerer, you would be knocking on Heaven's door by now."
"What are you doing here? And why do you call me sorcerer?"
"I've met others of your kind before. I know the type. As to what I'm doing here, I didn't expect this tête-à-tête. In fact, I was hoping that I could get a look at your books while you were away."
Giles realized where his weird feeling of deja vu came from. Angel used to do this on his good days, sneak up on them all in the library. More often that not he'd come with cryptic messages of doom before disappearing again like an eddy of water, but more often than not his help had been appreciated.
"That's not very, uh, p-polite."
"I'm not much for politeness, sorcerer. On the other hand, I'm not much for murder, either, so you can relax."
"What exactly were you looking for?"
"The Pagamon Codex. The Babylonian Chronicles. The Book of Lilith. Historia Naturalia Vampirica. Do you have any of them?"
"Uh, yes. A-all of them, in fact."
"Plus a couple volumes I haven't heard of, undoubtedly."
"Undoubtedly. If I were to lend you those books, what would you want with them?"
"Didn't Angela tell you? Can't you guess? I'm looking for a cure, sorcerer. A way to end this curse once and forever."
"Someone might suggest a... a stake through the heart, or direct sunlight."
Laurent chuckled humorlessly. "Not that way. Do you know what happens to a vampire's soul when the vessel dies, sorcerer?"
"Giles is my name, vampire. And I don't know what you are talking about. A vampire has no soul."
"Wrong. The soul is still tied to the fate of the body. It can't trascend while the vessel is alive. It's bound in some way. Some would say it's in hell. Others, that it's earthbound and tied to the vessel."
"But that's absurd. All of the vampires would have a soul, then."
"And who says they don't, sorcerer? The fact that it doesn't manifest doesn't mean it's gone. What does the demon do with the soul when it takes over the body? Does it let it go? Does that sound like something a demon would do?"
"Why... where did you get this from?"
"Have you ever seen a vampire die, Giles?"
"Why, yes. M-many times."
"Did you ever feel something? Something like a breath of warm wind which then turns cold? Something like its soul?"
"No. I think you're indulging in wishful thinking."
"Perhaps you're not as perceptive as I thought. I felt a vampire die, in a way that you couldn't possibly experience. And I can tell you that it's not a pleasant memory."
"What do you mean?" Giles was puzzled.
"Agnes. My sire. I was bonded to her."
"Meaning?" Giles urged him.
"Agnes had the ability to bond with people of her choice, so she always knew where they were, and could attune herself to their emotions. All of her children had that ability, but she was the undisputed master of the bonding. I cannot bond with more than one person, which currently is Angela, in case you were wondering. Guillaume, my brother" Laurent spat the word, "was like me, I think. Agnes was different. I saw her bond with half a dozen people one time. She used that in her hunts. She was a formidable huntress."
"I don't doubt it," the Watcher said with sarcasm. Laurent was oblivious.
"That ability was her undoing and my salvation. After we had to leave Guillaume's castle during the Revolution -that's the French Revolution- we didn't sleep or hunt together for a whole lot of reasons. Finally, one day Guillaume got careless and had to think of a quick way to save himself. I suppose he was bonded to Agnes at that time, because he gave the staking mob very precise directions to her lair."
"I thought that Guillaume had killed Agnes. That's the story Angela told Buffy," Giles pointed out.
"It's true. Guillaume did it. He used that angry mob as he could've used a stake or a sword. Do you know that the idiot villagers even granted him the hospitality of their inn? He played his part well, the part of a good traveler terrorized by the nosferatu. The mob found Agnes and staked her. In the daytime, unprepared, she was an easy target. They would've found me, too, I guess, but the fact that they went after Agnes first saved me. I was attuned to her, and her anguish woke me up. Through the bond we shared, I felt her death. I felt her soul scream as it was dragged towards a terrible, blasted place. You might say, sorcerer, that I got a glimpse of the hell that is waiting for me. I hope that Guillaume was attuned to her at that moment. I hope he got a full dose of that vision."
"But you... That is..."
"Do you understand now, sorcerer, why the stake and the sun are not options? I'm not concerned for the fate of this preternatural shell in which I am trapped. It's been walking around for two centuries too long. But I want a chance to redeem myself, to cleanse my soul, and I know I won't get it for as long as I remain vampire."
"Then you won't get it," Giles said softly. "Because there's no cure."
"What?"
"I have read all the books you mentioned, and then a few more. By necessity, I'm perhaps the greatest expert on vampirism in the entire world. And never in any of my sources did I find something that even remotely suggested a cure. Vampirism is a curse that can only be broken by death."
"Perhaps if I read your sources, with my knowledge..."
"If you want to waste your time, be my guest," Giles gestured at the bookshelves. "Investigate away. But I can tell you right now what you're going to find. Nothing."
"You don't know everything, sorcerer."
"Giles!" the librarian exploded. "I'm not a sorcerer anymore! And I _know_ I don't know everything, the events of the last year have rammed that unpleasant fact down my throat often enough. But there's a few things I _do_ know, and one of them is that vampirism cannot be cured. My charge, my Slayer, silently begged me to find that cure to help someone she loved, and I couldn't deliver. All my books and my knowledge couldn't deliver. I think no one can."
"You _think_," Laurent pointed out.
"I'll tell you what. I'm probably a fool for trusting you, but I'll leave now. I'm tired. I leave all of my books to you. Read what you want, borrow what you want, even, just bring them back to me when you're done. Cross-reference, talk to your sorcerer friends. I'll even trust you not to reveal sensitive information to inappropriate persons. I'm probably placing my charge in danger with this, but you must be sure of what I told you. And when you're sure, leave. Go away and never see Buffy again."
"You surprise me, s-... Giles."
"I'll just take this," Giles said, taking a small brown book from the desk. "My personal Watcher Diary. There's nothing in here that concerns our subject matter, anyway, it's just my annotations on Buffy and... other subjects."
Laurent nodded. "You speak of her as 'your charge'. What is Buffy to you?"
"You know about the Slayers. Do you know about those called the Watchers?"
"A little," Laurent agreed dubiously. "You're like her mentor?"
"I suppose."
"And you love her."
Giles looked nonplussed. "Of course. She was the reason for my existence before I even met her."
Laurent saw he'd misjudged this man. "I won't betray your trust, Watcher Giles. I'll take good care of your store of knowledge, and I won't endanger your charge. I just hope I can prove you wrong."
"You know, Laurent, I hope so too."
"Do you need an escort home?" Laurent offered. "It must be dangerous for a man in your position to walk alone at night."
Giles made as if to pick up his coat, and from its folds took a vial of holy water. He hurled it towards the vampire, but Laurent had melted into the shadows, dodging. The vial shattered against the wall, and it was empty. Giles had not filled it today.
"Very good," Giles conceded, putting on his coat. "But a lesser vampire would have fallen for it."
"For a second, I wasn't sure that it was a blank." Laurent's voice seemed to come from everywhere. "But you made your point."
Giles nodded. Buffy would've managed to sidestep that attack, too, but not many vampires could have done it. And the hiding now, so perfect that he couldn't locate the vampire even within the familiar confines of his library. It bode ill for his Slayer, if she and this vampire were ever at crosspoints.
"I'll clean the mess," Laurent announced. "Consider it my first rent payment."
"Very well," Giles said, and left.
* * *
Spike twisted his mouth in a wolfish grin. Angelus and Drusilla were now out hunting. They did that a lot now, together. But things were starting to go his way now. Yes, indeed.
"And you didn't see Laurent's girl come out again?" he asked.
He was speaking to another vampire, the same girl who had brought Laurent to the lair.
"No. I stayed almost till morning, and the girl never came out."
Which meant that Laurent's girl had spent the night at the Slayer's home, sleeping and eating there, and that she could now invite a vampire to come in. Interesting.
"You did well, Lydia," Spike commended. "And tonight?"
"She went to the Bronze again. I didn't go in."
"Very wise. And Laurent?"
"I couldn't find him."
"We'll find him. And when we do..."
Spike laughed and rose up, kicking back the chair. Lydia, the first vampire to see him stand since his injuries, drew a sharp breath.
"It's going to be quite a party," he assured. "You'll see."
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