Giles hardly knew when it had started. His ability to read her mind unnerved him. He had always been vaguely aware of Buffy’s whereabouts. Even when she had run away all those years ago he had still known that she hadn’t left the country. Now he was beginning to have nightmares about her. That was always a bad sign for a watcher.

They were walking down the street eating ice-cream. Willow and the others were behind them dressed in black. The wind blew Buffy’s hair into her eyes and it swept his high silk hat off his head. He chased after it, catching it and looked back as the galloping black horses rode straight over him baring his Slayer to Hell.

"Giles? What’s the matter?" Buffy’s smiling voice brought him out of his trance like sleep. He smiled wanly in her direction. She’d bought him ice-cream. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He really must stop reading Edgar Allen Poe for relaxation.

"Ooh, vanilla my favourite." He smiled and took the tub from her hands. She shook her hands. They were frozen from holding the ice-cream for so long.

"Anything happening in the Watcher-world?" She raised her voice over the din of bowls being fetched from his kitchen cupboards. Giles didn’t answer immediately because he had snuck a sneaky spoonful of vanilla delight in the kitchen.

"Uhm, no just the odd dream. Nothing unusual. What’s happening in the Slayer World?" He brought the bowls into the living room. He gave Buffy the bigger serving; after all, she had bought it.

They passed a pleasant couple of hours chatting in general about nothing in particular. He tried not to continuously end each of her sentences for her but he seemed to hear her before she said anything. In the end he waited until she stopped speaking before nodding in response. If he could hear her, couldn’t she hear him in turn?

"Well, I’ve got to go…"

"….on a hot date? Off you go then Buffy. Be careful after your movie."

"How’d you know I was going to a movie?" She sounded annoyed. This whole visit had been slightly creepy. Her Watcher laughed and shrugged.

"Don’t know. Call the X-files!" He laughed some more. Buffy shook her head, convinced that Giles had been smoking grass again.

He ran after the vampire. Although the stake in his hand felt familiar, the rhythm of his stride was all wrong. It almost felt like he was shorter. He flew gazelle-like over obstacles that were placed in his path by the fleeing vampire. Eventually the vampire was cornered in an alley. Standing triumphant at the mouth of the alley, he waited for the vampire to make its final assault. Launching itself forward in a vain attempt to escape its fate, the vampire impaled itself on the stake, showering his clothes with dust. He coughed, tasting the foul dust in his throat. He found his throat constricting and could not draw a breath. The smell of the dust was familiar, like bitter almonds. He sank down on the damp ground gasping his last breath…

He shot up in bed taking a giant breath, bathed in a cold sweat. That was awful. Choking he left his bed and dashed to the bathroom, hastily filling a glass with water and greedily gulping it down, the coolness soothing his parched throat. He glanced in the mirror and saw a ghostly image of Buffy curled on the ground of an alley. Her mouth open in an agonised silent scream for breath, her hand falling away from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed in death. The glass shattered in the basin as he gripped the edges of the bathroom mirror in disbelief.

"Buffy…" He gasped.

End of part. 1

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