Title: Watchers Retreat
Author: Rari

RATING: FRT
PAIRING: B/G
DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Joss, the WB, UPN, Fox, Mutant Enemy and anybody else who feels they own it. I'm just borrowing the characters, playing with them a little bit and then giving them back, memories wiped clean, except when they ask me not to.

SUMMARY: Giles finally gets invited to a Watchers Retreat, but once he's there, somebody's killing all the Watchers.
FEEDBACK: Absolutely.
NOTES: NOTES: This is set a year after Giles has left Sunnydale. And Willow is not with Tara, and Xander is not with Anya. ~~~~ = flashback (there's only one). Latest versions of all my stories can be found at: http://www.dwordslist.net/rariindex.html

THANKS: To Lori Ann for her happy faces and snorts, Deb for her amazing editing skills, Ruth for keeping Giles British, and Gileswench for all the ongoing lovin'.

Watchers Retreat: Part 1

Giles looked at the invitation with an annoyed astonishment. Six years as an active Watcher, in charge of the most amazing Slayer the world had ever seen and that whole time he'd never received an invitation. Then he moves back to England, barely still functioning as a Watcher, and they send him one.

He looked at the location again. Visions of the Cotswolds ran through Giles' mind. And then were sadly dismissed. Giles let out a pained half laugh. For the first time, the Council had decided to hold the Watchers Retreat in the United States. In California. Northern California, but still…California. The land he'd run from.

The invitation was strongly worded. It was expected that all Watchers would attend. Giles lay the invitation down on the table, sighing. His status as Watcher was tenuous at best after abandoning his Slayer. If he chose to not attend this event he was reasonably certain that he'd be getting fired again. He also wondered if he was finally getting invited so they could put him up on a stage and point a finger at him and tell all the other Watchers to use him as an example of what not to do.

Giles ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't help thinking that they'd be justified in doing just that. Don't give your Slayer such latitude, don't let your Slayer date a vampire, don't let your Slayer have civilian friends, don't let your Slayer wrap you around her finger, don't come to love your Slayer, don't let your Slayer quit the Council, don't let your Slayer be raised from the dead, don't leave your Slayer, ever.

He'd been lucky. There were enough Watchers in high places that thought the circumstances extraordinary enough to allow the possibility that leaving his Slayer was perhaps warranted, even though, at this time, Giles couldn't imagine having done such a stupid and cruel thing. So, he'd kept his job, barely, and didn't even have the satisfaction of thinking that he'd done the right thing.

But some decisions couldn't be fixed. He'd tried. It had taken him a few months but Giles had finally realized that he shouldn't have left. But by then it had been too late. She had avoided his calls from the onset. He knew she was angry, he just hadn't realized how angry. When he started trying in earnest to contact her she rebuffed all attempts, refusing to talk to him, refusing to even let messages be passed along to her.

He decided to just go to Sunnydale to talk to her in person, tell her that he wanted to come back, that he'd been wrong. She was nowhere to be found. Instead, he'd found Spike. And Spike had taken entirely too much pleasure in letting him know that he wasn't welcome, reminding Giles of his own speech to Spike about there being no way to Buffy. Buffy was off limits to him. And as long as Giles was in Sunnydale, Buffy wouldn't be. So, if he didn't want people dying because the Slayer was gone, he should go on home.

Giles had left. At this time, he had not spoken to Buffy for an entire year, and was afraid that he wouldn't ever speak to her again. The thought of that was like a raw wound. A wound that didn't seem to show any evidence of starting to close.

The only people he spoke to consistently now were Anya and Dawn. He had spoken every now and then to Willow or Xander, when they were at the store. But he had sensed their discomfort at being stuck in the middle, because every time he'd spoken to them he'd begged them to get a message to Buffy for him. Giles couldn't blame them for avoiding his calls. Anya just told him no, and then talked business. And Dawn, well, she had latched onto him as her absentee father of choice, and whenever they spoke, she had so much news to tell him that he barely got a word in edgeways.

Dawn kept him current on all the news, including news about Buffy, for which he was desperate. Although most of what he heard filled him with dismay. Even with a year's passage, she wasn't doing well. She was still depressed a good deal of the time, and angry. She hung out with Spike too much, even though they weren't having sex anymore. Giles had been relived at the ending of that phase of their relationship but he couldn't believe that being with Spike so much could be good for Buffy. She needed positive influences in her life.

Giles was glad to hear that she seemed to be taking her responsibility to Dawn more seriously, and had managed to hang on to her, despite all the hovering done by Children's Services. Giles was proud of Buffy for that, and wished he could tell her so.

Giles sighed and looked down at the invitation again. Maybe a few days in the woods would be just what he needed. Some nature time, some quiet time, perhaps reconnect with the Watchers he used to be friends with. He brushed the sad thought away that he'd be so close to Buffy and yet not be able to see her. He squared his shoulders. It was time for him to move on. He needed to find his place again, and this retreat would be just the ticket.

***

By the second night, Giles was actually glad that he'd decided to come. While he had received a few odd looks when some of the Watchers found out who he was, most of them were thrilled to meet him. They were delighted to meet a Watcher who'd actually had a Slayer, someone who had come face to face with so many demons and apocalypses. It all seemed like a grand adventure to them. By the time they'd all crawled into their tents last night, Giles' voice was almost raw from answering all their questions and from the stories he had told.

Over the day, Giles had found several of his old friends, and managed to successfully dodge the Watchers, including Travers, that he wanted to avoid. They were spread over a sizeable area in the Trinity Alps. By report, there were close to 300 Watchers attending the retreat, almost perfect attendance. When the Director had spoken earlier he had commented that they had left only one Watcher at the Council Building, and that the more than capable support staff were on duty and taking care of things. The only other absent members were a few Watchers scattered here and there throughout the world where communication and travel seemed consistently difficult.

Tonight, he and about 25 other Watchers were sitting around an enormous campfire. A bottle of Scotch was being passed around and they were all pleasantly tipsy. Giles had been relieved that the classes taught today did not consist of him being made an example of. Although most of them had been a waste of time as far as he was concerned.

There had been a lecture on classifying demons, and another on new fighting techniques, and one on how to improve your researching skills. Giles listened politely to all of them and kept his mouth shut, even though he could have taught all the classes far better than the instructors they brought in. Instructors who probably had never even seen a demon, or actually had to use any kind of fighting technique in a real fight, against something that was trying to kill you.

Giles pushed those thoughts away. Those days were over. Time to move on. He passed on the bottle next time it came his way. He knew if he drank much more he'd start getting morose, and when he got morose he fixated on Buffy, and then he'd just drink himself into a stupor. Giles leaned back on the log behind him, and stared into the fire, letting the conversation around him fade away into a companionable but unobtrusive sound.

He'd missed this. People his age, people who shared his passion for knowledge, for learning, people who thought nothing of staying up all night, nose stuck in a book. Willow had come close, and he had valued her friendship, but she was young and had other priorities. Giles frowned. And magic. That was something else he felt badly about. He should have stayed for her as well.

He found himself being poked by the one of his old friends. Giles turned to him. "Yes, Daniel?"

"Why are you frowning?"

Giles gave him a sad smile. "Just some bad memories."

Daniel held up a bag of marshmallows. "Will this help?"

Giles' eyes lit up and he gave Daniel a real smile. "Yes, I think it will."

Daniel handed him a stick and gave him the bag. "Have at it, then."

Giles pulled out a marshmallow and stuck it carefully on the end of the provided stick and then edged closer to the fire. Several of his fellow Watchers were toasting their own marshmallows and he gave them all a shy grin.

He was on his third marshmallow when they all heard the cry. It started off softly but grew in volume until it was all but deafening. It seemed to come from everywhere at the same time, making it impossible to pinpoint its origin. It was unearthly and Giles could feel a panic building rapidly within him in response to it.

Being accustomed to panic he took a deep breath. Looking around he saw the panic in the other Watchers' eyes. They were all springing to their feet, poised to run. The other campsites seemed to have been similarly effected. Giles could hear frantic cries, people running. One of the men made as if to join them. Giles caught his arm. "Where are you going?"

The man pointed. "I…I just need to go." His voice was breathless with his need to flee.

"Where?"

The man looked lost for a moment, having no ready answer. "Can't you feel it?"

"I can, but until we know that we are indeed in danger, and where that danger is coming from, running serves no purpose."

He hung on to the man when the night air was again filled with the unearthly scream. When it died off they could hear even more yelling and the sounds of continued flight. Giles could see them as shadows running through the woods in all directions. There didn't seem to be any specific place to go to assist anyone, just mass pandemonium. Giles felt that adding to it would be distinctly foolish. Nevertheless, he could feel the anxiety growing around him. Giles glared at the Watchers he was with and spoke sharply to them. "No one is going anywhere. Stay."

He was gratified when they all seemed to be obeying him. He had used that glare and tone of voice to keep a pack of unruly teenagers out of danger, he trusted in his ability to keep a group of adults in line. Giles could hear scattered phrases, people calling for one another or asking what was going on. Occasionally a cry of terror rang out, quickly silenced. And the running continued.

When a third cry filled the air, Giles first made sure that the man he was still holding was all right. Once reassured, he started slowly walking around the fire. He walked outside the ring of Watchers, speaking slowly, trying to keep them calm, while he continued to try to determine what was threatening them, if anything was threatening them. The echoes of the last cry died away, leaving an eerie silence.

It was too quiet. There were at least two other campsites in close proximity and despite the snapping of the fire, he should have heard voices, especially after these events. He was tempted to yell, to see if anyone would answer him, but until he knew what was out there he hated to draw unwanted attention to their campsite. Giles cursed. "Damn." He turned to the Watchers. "Do any of you have weapons with you?"

They all looked at him, surprised at the question. Daniel answered. "I imagine some of us have knives, but that's probably it. We don't usually bring weapons to these retreats. Everything we need for practice sessions is generally provided."

There was a sound of something running through the brush straight towards them. Giles reached down and picked up one of the sturdier sticks that had been gathered for kindling. He had it up to brandish as a weapon when a woman ran into the clearing. She let out a cry of relief when she saw a group of people and she threw herself in Giles' arms. "Oh, thank God."

Giles patted her on the back, trying to remember her name. With a sigh of relief he recalled it. "Maddy, Maddy, what happened?"

She pulled back, embarrassed now. "I'm sorry. I was just so frightened."

"Did you see what it was? Did it attack anyone?"

She shook her head. "I don't think anyone saw it, whatever it was. I'm afraid we all went into a bit of a panic and started running. I was with Rich and Benjamin but I got separated from them. Then I thought I heard voices and ran this way."

Giles held her by her shoulders and looked at her. "Are you all right? Were you hurt?"

Maddy shook her head. "No, I'm fine, I just panicked." She looked embarrassed now. "I'm really sorry."

"That's all right. Adrenaline is a funny thing. You never quite know how you're going to react when it starts to pump through you. That was quite an unsettling noise."

Daniel pointed at Giles. "We'd have bolted too if it hadn't been for Rupert here."

Another voice came from across the fire. "We've got ourselves an experienced Watcher with us." It was the man Giles had kept from running.

Giles smiled briefly. "Yes, well, until we know what that thing is, I'm not sure we should be celebrating yet. We need some weapons to be on the safe side. I've got some in my tent. Those of you with knives need to get them. Just to be on the safe side, please walk in groups." As they all continued to look at him he gestured impatiently. "Go." As if released from a spell they all moved to their tents.

Giles went to his own tent and rustled around in it. He fished out a crossbow, his broadsword and scabbard, and his own collection of stakes. As he backed out of his tent he backed right into Maddy. He stood quickly, turning. "I do apologize, I didn't know you were there."

She scrunched her face up. "I'm still feeling a bit nervous. I thought I'd stick with you. I hope you don't mind."

Giles smiled. "No, I don't mind." He handed her the crossbow. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

She nodded. "Do you have any bolts?"

"Ah." Giles crawled back into his tent and brought out a black canvas bag. He handed it to her. "Bolts."

She looked down at his small arsenal. "Do you always travel with all these weapons?"

Giles let out a short laugh. "It gets to be a habit. When I was in Sunnydale you could always count on being attacked by something whenever you were unarmed."

"Sort of like it always raining the day you forget your umbrella."

Giles flashed another one of his brief grins. "Exactly." He gestured back to the fire. "Let's head back."

She moved aside so he had room to stand beside her and they both headed back to the campfire. Nerves were still on edge and everyone was talking at the same time. They all grew quiet when Giles arrived. Everyone held up his or her knife, as if for inspection. Giles doubted the ability of some of those knives to cut butter, let alone kill a demon, but it was better than nothing. "I don't know what we're dealing with. That could have been a demon cry, or it could have been some indigenous wild creature."

Suddenly the cry rent the air again, although they could tell it was farther off. While it evoked that same sense of dread, the distance helped lessen the effect. As they all started talking again, Giles thought he heard something. He held up his hand for silence. He heard it again. A cry for help. Daniel spoke. "Someone's hurt."

Giles nodded. "Yes. We need to go and get them." Giles didn't wait for volunteers. He pointed at Daniel, and the two men next to him, Steven and Wendell. "You three, you're with me." He pointed at the rest. "No one wander off. Stay close to the fire. If you don't have a knife, stay close to someone who does." He turned to Maddy. "In the bottom of my duffel bag is a first aid kit. Would you go and get it?" She nodded.

Giles pulled a stout stick from the flames, enough of it unburned to provide an easy handhold. Steven looked at him. "Why don't we just get our flashlights?"

Giles swung the torch like a baseball bat. "These make better weapons, they have a longer reach, and most demons are ridiculously frightened of fire." Within seconds the other three men followed suit and also pulled torches out of the fire. Giles flashed them a small grin. "Just try not to set anyone on fire." As Giles turned to head off he realized he didn't really know where to go. He'd have to risk making some noise. "Hello? We want to come and get you but you need to call again." To his consternation he received at least three answering responses. "Good Lord."

A woman that Giles didn't know well approached him. Giles looked down at her, waiting for her to speak. When she spoke it was with a French accent. "I am a physician. Perhaps I should accompany you."

Giles thought for a moment and then shook his head. "No, we'll bring them back here. Set up an infirmary; perhaps see who has extra bedding, towels, things we can use as bandages. I'm afraid my first aid kit won't go far. Hopefully we can get extra supplies in the morning." He peered off into the darkness. "And hopefully no one is hurt very badly." At the woman's nod he gathered his helpers and headed off to where he thought one of the wounded was.

They actually found five. And all five had sustained serious injuries. Three of them were injured from falls taken while they were running. Giles assumed the other two had been attacked by whatever had made that cry. They were incoherent with their fear, unable to speak clearly. Giles had stumbled across both of them by accident as they went after their three other comrades. Giles wasn't even sure they realized that they were safe for the moment.

Whatever had attacked them had tried to rip them apart. One of them had a deep slash from his collarbone down to his hip. The woman who had been attacked had her back slashed. Giles was confused as to why they'd been left alive. He didn't see the point of the wounds. Until they calmed down enough to talk he wasn't going to get any answers, but the level of their fear was enough to convince Giles that they were dealing with a demon of sorts.

Once the doctor saw that Giles had some skill in first aid she left the smaller gashes for him to suture shut, while she concentrated on the larger ones. She also had two bones to try to set and immobilize with makeshift splints, and she was afraid the last Watcher they had found was having some sort of heart attack. With no medication on hand, all she could do was try to keep him still and calm. Maddy was sitting with him now, speaking softly to him.

When everyone was as stabilized as they could be, the physician walked over to Giles. "That's a pretty thorough first aid kit."

Giles smiled. "It's seen a lot of use." He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a tired sigh. Giles looked at her. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Celiane."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Celiane. I'm very glad you were here."

"As I am glad you were here."

Giles nodded briefly then gestured with his chin to the man with chest pain. "Will he be all right?"

"I don't know. If he's incurred some significant heart damage, then the answer is no, unless I can get him some treatment." She let out a frustrated sigh. "And the gash wounds on those two are already infected." She glanced up at Giles. "Is it possible that the infection is due to the demon? I've never seen an infection start so early and so aggressively."

Giles nodded. "Very possible."

She sighed again. "I've given them a dose each of the oral antibiotics you had in your kit, but the infection continues to worsen. They need some intravenous antibiotics."

"I'm afraid I never considered the need for such powerful antibiotics or heart medicine to treat the injuries I tended to. We always had a hospital in relatively close proximity." Giles sent her a small reassuring smile. "You're doing the best you can." He looked out into the forest. "I'm afraid there are more wounded out there. I feel I should go and look."

Daniel touched his shoulder. "I'll go and look. You've been working non-stop. We'll do some sweeps." He looked at his watch. "It will be light in a couple of hours and then we can do a more complete job."

Giles nodded his thanks. "Check in frequently please. And don't get separated. Whatever this thing is, be it natural or supernatural, I believe that cry is to cause its potential prey to run off alone so this…this thing can kill them more easily." He looked at the two Watchers who had been attacked. They were both sleeping, benefiting from the sedatives in Giles' first aid kit. He was afraid that the reason they had been left alive was because there had been too much prey last night. The pickings too easy for this creature to worry about the few who fell to the side. The quiet continued to unnerve him. It made him wonder how many Watchers had fallen tonight.

End of Part 1