Chapter Text
Rupert Giles had never expected to find himself enjoying his cover as a high school librarian, but even he had to admit there was something satisfying about the role. Here, he truly got to assist in the process of educating young people, albeit within the confines of an American high school institution. He knew the surroundings were deeply flawed in their design, even if one wasn’t aware of the underlying vampire infestation, which filled him with a cool dread in the most banal of circumstances. Still, he could see himself truly getting into education as a profession if he ever left the Watchers’ Council.
Not that he ever would voluntarily. They’d have to remove him kicking and screaming. There was nothing grander than serving such a profound cause. No, he wouldn’t truly be a high school librarian, but he would serve as an educator in a better way: the preparation of a Slayer.
This would be his first assignment to an actual Slayer, and he felt a jitter of excitement just thinking about it. He would train the first line of defence against the vampires infesting Sunnydale. Things were already set in motion. The Council arranged for the Slayer’s mother to find work in the area, and soon she would be here, and she would be his pupil. Ah, so exciting!
Setting the last of the unpacked books in his private library behind the desk, he wiped a layer of sweat from his brow and smiled in satisfaction. Everything was in place. He locked up, bid the Sunnydale High School custodian a polite farewell, and headed for his apartment.
He knew the protocol to follow to get home safely. He never went far from the lampposts, went straight home in a confident manner, and was sure he would never encounter a vampire. However, as he passed the local movie theatre, a flutter of movement caught his eye in the dark alleyway stretching between the buildings.
There was a man with a woman in his arms. She was struggling. His face… was inhuman. Even in the shadows, Rupert could see the ridges on the man’s face and the way he held his mouth open to feast on her innocent blood.
“You there…!” Rupert called out before he knew what he was doing. He turned from the safety of the lights and entered the darkness, where he was no longer in the realm of the living but the undead creatures borne of demonkind. It was foolish, foolish indeed! But he had to do something to help that poor woman.
The vampire growled--a deep malevolent sound that chilled Rupert’s blood--and threw the woman to the ground, where she stumbled to her feet and ran off. The vampire had new prey now, and he turned to face Rupert with gleaming yellow eyes. “Oh, you want to play hero, do you? Know what happens to heroes around here?”
Rupert halted in his tracks. He waited to make sure the woman got away before he assessed his options. Running might be his best bet; though, he didn’t like his odds against a vampire in open terrain. He knew how fast these creatures could move. Taking a deep breath, he bought as much time as he could to think by responding to the vampire’s taunts. “Something… er, Shakespearean, I would imagine?”
The vampire laughed and strolled closer, taking his time but closing the distance between them. If Rupert was going to run, he needed to do it soon.
“Er, behind you!” he shouted, pointing into the darkness behind the vampire.
Remarkably, the vampire fell for it, glancing over his shoulder. “What the hell?”
Rupert thanked God for giving him that scant opportunity and didn’t waste it. Turning, he sprinted for the safety of the light like a deer from a hunter. He almost didn’t hear the sounds of a scuffle behind him.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he paused to glance behind him. Someone else was there in the alleyway, and they were fighting the vampire in an actual fist fight! Was it the Slayer? Was she here early? Was he about to assume his role as Watcher at last?
However, as the figures fought, Rupert saw the outline of his saviour and knew it couldn’t be a teenage girl. The figure was that of a muscular young man. Dear God! A mere man couldn’t hope to defeat a vampire head on!
Rupert hurried back into the alleyway to offer whatever assistance he could. Oh, he hadn’t fought hand to hand since his university days, but he was sure it would return as easily as riding a bicycle once he got into the thick of it. Readying his fists, he jumped into the fray and sent a punch flying toward the vampire’s face.
It was like hitting a steel wall wrapped in flesh. Rupert let out a cry of pain as the vampire turned to address him.
While the vampire was distracted, the young man struck. Removing a stake from his pocket, he plunged it into the vampire’s heart. The vampire screamed, stepped back, and exploded into a pillar of dust that showered over Rupert and the young man.
Cradling his smarting hand, Rupert looked at the man in amazement. “You’re a vampire hunter!”
Of course, he had researched vampire hunters back in his academy days. They were humans unaffiliated with the Watchers’ Council who knew about the vampire threat and did what they could to address the problem even without the aid of centuries of recorded knowledge and the employ of a Vampire Slayer. Though groups of them had emerged throughout history, solitary instances were exceedingly rare, and this young man hardly looked the part of great vampire hunter Daniel Holtz.
In truth, Rupert wasn’t sure he’d seen anyone look quite like this young man off the covers of magazines. Dressed in leather pants, leather jacket, and a white tank top, and bearing a modern gelled hairstyle, the young man looked more like a supermodel than a vampire hunter.
“Something like that,” the young man spoke, a rumble of amusement in his voice. He studied Rupert as he brushed the dust from his clothes. “You should be more careful around here.”
“Because of the vampires? I know,” Rupert said. “There was a victim… a girl. I couldn’t leave her to be eaten.”
“A damsel in distress, huh?” The man’s soft, husky voice sounded almost like he was laughing at Rupert. “Careful, now. They’ve been known to fake it, to lure wannabe white knights on dashing steeds like yourself.”
“Oh? Yes, quite right.” One could never be sure things could be quite the way stereotypes presented them. There were plenty of examples of capable vampire women throughout history: Elizabeth Bathory, Geraldine, Mircalla Karnstein… Any apparent damsel in distress could easily be a predator lying in wait.
“You’re bleeding,” the man said, eying Rupert’s bruised knuckles. He was right; a tiny bead of blood had been produced by the injury. “Every vampire in the area is going to smell that. Let’s get you home.”
“Er, yes, of course.” Rupert flushed in embarrassment as he let himself be led through the alleys. He already knew he wasn’t the greatest specimen of the masculine ideal but felt out of sorts in the presence of this strange man, who seemed to far outpace Rupert when it came to fighting vampires in spite of his formal training.
“My name is Rupert, by the way. Rupert Giles.” He smiled at the man, who didn’t smile back.
“The Watcher,” the man agreed. “You should protect yourself until the Slayer gets here.”
“Hang on, how did you know I was a Watcher?” Rupert asked. “How do you know about us at all? What is your story?”
The man snorted. He shook his head. “Don’t ask questions unless you’re prepared to hear the answers.”
“Well, I believe that I just asked them,” Rupert said sardonically. “It would be absurd to ask questions for another purpose than hearing their answers.”
The man darkly chuckled. “All you need to know now is that I’m a friend, got that? We have shared interests. The enemy is finite in number. If we work together, we can kill them all.”
“I’m sorry, do you mean you wish to eradicate vampires?” It was an outrageous notion. The human race couldn’t even eradicate rats, known pests throughout the world. To think that a small group of people could eliminate all the vampires in the world--paranormal monsters living in the shadows--pushed the limits of plausibility.
“It’d be a mercy,” the man muttered. “The vampires’ existence is unnatural, unneeded. It would be better to bring them all to rest.”
“Sympathies for the undead are not exactly my problem,” Rupert said, confused that the man would so misinterpret his words. “Clearly, the world would be better without them. I just think it’s fairly absurd to imagine anyone could kill them all.”
“The divine right of kings was once thought to be an immutable fact of the world, now look at society today,” the man said. “The vampires don’t have to be here either.”
“Now, you’re sounding like an American.” Rupert chuckled.
Softly groaning, the man led Rupert into his apartment complex, right up to his door. It was rather like a doting boyfriend depositing his date to the front porch. It gave Rupert flashbacks of his dalliances with Ethan back in his schoolboy days.
“Well, thank you,” Rupert said, getting out his keys. As he placed the key in the lock, it occurred to him that he never told the man where he lived. A chill went down his spine.
The man knew intimate details about Rupert, but Rupert knew almost nothing about him past his aspirations for vampiric annihilation. It put a sensible man off-balance. “Tell me… what should I call you?”
Silence.
Rupert turned and saw the man was gone. It was almost like he had never been there at all. Shivering, Rupert turned the key and hurried inside, only allowing himself to relax when the door was shut and locked behind him. The softest whisper emerged from his mouth, “See you around, friend.”