by Rob Sorenson

***************Bavaria, Feb. 1975*****************

Hans Katzenbach was freezing. The snow was packed hard as he and Inge made their way back home from patrol with sunrise nearing.. It had been relatively uneventful, with six vampires to deal with. Even young Rupert had managed to notice the speed and power of this Slayer. Inge had been a superb athlete before she was called, with tremendous balance and grace. At fifteen she'd been on the verge of making the Olympic swim team in her home country when the Council had been forced to step in and prevent that eventuality.

A potential Slayer as a worldwide celebrity was not something the Council could tolerate. Katzenbach himself had broken the news to her, and had been amazed at her calm acceptance of her fate. This was an extraordinarily strong young woman in more ways than one.

He could never seem to stop being amazed at how extraordinary she truly was, despite their many years together. Her intelligence was astonishing; she could remember entire pages from demonic texts that she hadn't seen in years. This alone would have been amazing. The fact that she also knew the precise page number was something he'd never seen.

She'd been so naturally gifted that their training sessions really couldn't be rightly called "training" any more. He hadn't taught her a thing in terms of physical skills since the first month after she was called. He simply let her work, trying hard to disguise his seemingly limitless awe at her prodigious skills.

Few problems had occurred during the ongoing cleanup operation in their homeland. The Black Forest was a seemingly endless well of demonic activity, but Inge had thinned out their number considerably, steadily improving into an absolute fighting machine.

For perhaps the hundredth time, Katzenbach found himself staring at his Slayer from behind as they walked single file on the icy path. They had encountered six vampires this night; three at one time fighting as a team.

They were all currently dust, indistinguishable amongst the blowing drifts of snow. Inge The Vampire Slayer had killed them all, and didn't have so much as a mark on her body.

As the mental image of her body wormed it's way into his mind, Katzenbach cursed his weakness. His own body always betrayed him when it came to her. One evening he'd come to inform her that she had earned a day of rest from patrolling. Her bedroom door had been slightly ajar and as he'd prepared to softly knock he saw her.

She had just had her bath for the evening, and had her towel in her hair, drying it vigorously. The air left his body as he gazed upon hers. His now shaking hand withdrew before knocking, and he walked away as silently as he could.

Since that day the image of Inge's bare body had not left him. Still, that was his burden to bear, and putting personal feelings aside was a primary focus in Watcher training. Compared to the burden of protecting mankind, it was of no consequence. He would simply suffer in silence. Unfortunately, it became clear that the suffering was mutual.

Her facial expressions had begun to morph from a Slayer's look of respect for her elder into....something else. Something forbidden. It was a growing issue and Katzenbach dreaded the almost inevitable conversation that would soon result.

For all her magnificent qualities, Inge Steiner was still a teenaged girl. Katzenbach reflected that he himself was the only possible obstacle keeping her from obtaining her full potential. Outside of this, her abilities could indeed make her the greatest Slayer of them all. Of that he had no doubt. The proper thing was for him to give up his duties to another Watcher.

Yet he simply couldn't do it. The idea of leaving Inge behind was unbearable. He'd deluded himself into thinking her feelings would pass once she reached adulthood; in the meantime his own petty desires could easily be ignored.

Or so he thought.

On a smaller scale, their latest problem was the insufferable presence of Rupert Giles. His attitude had been distressing in a variety of ways. The boy refused to listen to anyone. One night on a patrol he had leaped in to fight a vampire and had nearly gotten himself killed. Inge had to turn her attention to saving him and had actually taken a bit of an unnecessary beating as a consequence.

It was almost as if the boy had a deathwish. Katzenbach had told him in no uncertain terms to stay out of fights when the Slayer was engaged; the Watcher was only to get involved when his charge was in imminent danger. Two vampires at once did not constitute that for Inge unless her focus was taken away.

This hadn't stopped the young Englishman; if anything he'd intentionally gone against what he's been told for the sheer pleasure of it. Finally the senior Watcher had no choice but to leave the young man at the farmhouse for his own safety. He suspected that may have been the intention of the boy all along; there had been little argument. Katzenbach ruefully reflected that if the boy used his clearly potent mental energies toward helping with the mission he could be extremely useful.

After what seemed like hours Inge and her Watcher reached the clearing that contained their headquarters. Perhaps young Rupert had possessed the decency to have tea waiting for them as Hans had requested.

As usual, he was disappointed. Giles was slumped on a couch in the living room with an empty bottle of Bushmills whiskey on it's side. Inge looked slightly ill at the sight of him, and Katzenbach wrinkled his nose at the offensive odor. As his Slayer made her way up the stairs to change clothes the Watcher approached the semi-conscious Britisher with mild contempt.

"Giles."

"Mmmmm."

Katzenbach reached down and shook him.

"Giles!!"

"Bloody Hell! Don't talk so damned loud! What?"

"I have repeatedly asked you not to smoke in the house. Yet you clearly have, as the stench indicates. I have also asked you to be responsible in your consumption of the alcohol we have. At what point will you begin honoring my requests?"

Giles curled his lip at him.

"Well, considering that I'm living in Hell, and it appears to be frozen over, probably fairly soon."

"Your attitude is beginning to be tiresome."

"So is yours, mate. I'm not going to smoke outside when I can't even feel my bloody fingers after standing out there for thirty seconds."

"Could you possibly make us some tea while I change clothes? Is that too much to ask as well?"

Giles appeared to be considering it, rubbing his chin for effect.

"I suppose I could do that. I feel like some tea myself."

Katzenbach shook his head.

"Thank you."

He made his way upstairs to his room, willing himself as always to remain away from Inge's bedroom door. After quickly removing his jacket and sweater he went downstairs for tea. Inge still hadn't arrived as of yet. Katzenbach smiled. His Slayer always fussed over her appearance; it was her one remaining holdover from normal human life, it seemed.

Giles was pouring the tea, lit cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. For the third time since he'd returned, Katzenbach sighed, conceding defeat out of exhaustion as he accepted the steaming cup. Surprisingly, the usually sullen Giles began to make conversation.

"Good patrol?"

"Fairly normal. Six vampires. No other demonic activity that we could find. Things are beginning to slow down a bit in recent weeks. Inge's work is making quite an impact."

Giles leered. "Inge most certainly does do that."

Katzenbach gave him a look over his raised cup and said nothing as Giles went on.

"She's incredible. I've seen her reading material that I had to memorize when I was at the Academy. It took me a bloody day to learn things she can recite in fifteen minutes. What's more, she actually likes the stuff."

"It's good that you're beginning to recognize how talented she is. Until now, you hadn't appeared to notice."

Giles laughed.

"How does one not notice someone like that? I'm a man, for God's sake. Are you going to tell me you don't notice her?"

Katzenbach's face didn't change _expression as Giles rose to refill his cup, talking all the while.

"You do realize that she notices you, right?"

"It's best that we don't speak of this, Rupert."

"Come off it, Hans. You can see the look in her eyes when she talks to you. Girl has it bad. I'd say you're bloody lucky. Why not take advantage?"

Katzenbach's face had paled considerably; Giles, noting this with a smile, continued.

"On the other hand, you might be a bit long in the tooth for her, as they say. So I was wondering: if you don't fancy her, do you mind if I have a go?"

Giles was slammed against the wall of the kitchen so quickly the cigarette went flying out his mouth and into the sink, boiling hot water from his teacup scalding his hand. He dropped the receptacle as Katzenbach leaned in close and whispered to him.

"No more games, Rupert. You can insult me all you wish. As far as I am concerned, you need not do a thing I say if you stay out of our way. However, there is one thing you will not do: you will not disrespect the Slayer in any way ever again. If you do, I won't bother sending you back to England. I'll tie you up in the woods at night and let the gnomes have their way with you. Do I make myself clear?"

Rupert was shocked that he couldn't break free from the older man's iron grip. At a loss for words, he merely nodded.

"Good. I'm tired of watching you throw away your potential. A month from now your time here will be up. You can return to England and continue wasting your life. Clearly it's all you care to do any more. It's sad, really. I have the highest respect for your father and grandfather. I haven't a clue what happened to you.

As of this moment, I do not care."

Katzenbach released him as her heard Inge's soft footfalls on the stairs. With a warning glance to Giles he went back to the table and calmly resumed sipping his tea as the frightened young man hurriedly cleaned up his mess.

********************************************************

Buffy and Willow sat in Xander's room, surrounded by a circle of burning candles. Faith had been persuaded with great difficulty to leave the room during the ritual. Willow had been conserving her use of magic for three days; she now felt she had sufficient power to be the conduit between her two best friends.

"Buffy? Are you ok?"

The Slayer shrugged.

"A little tired, but I'm cool."

"This is going to be pretty intense. You probably should have gotten a full night's sleep."

"I'll be fine, Will."

"Is everything ok?"

"Spike's having a hard time."

Willow didn't speak for a moment. Finally, she just said the name.

"Travers?"

Buffy simply nodded.

"For what it's worth, Buffy, I consider it self defense. He was trying to kill us."

"Would you have done it?"

Again Willow hesitated.

"I don't know. Considering my track record I wouldn't rule it out. Not after seeing what he did to Xander."

"Me neither. Does this mean something is happening to us?"

"Yes. I think we're getting older. I think we're getting tired of people trying to kill us all the time. Demons are one thing, but..."

"I know. I don't like it, but I know."

Unexpectedly, Willow embraced her.

"Let's go get our best friend."

"You got it."

Willow took Xander's hand while Buffy took the other. Then the women interlaced the fingers of their remaining hand, effectively forming a triangle between them.

Willow closed her eyes; Buffy followed suit. In an instant, Buffy no longer felt the hands she was touching.

She had the feeling of freefalling, eerily similar to the swan dive she had taken from a makeshift Sunnydale tower just three years before. Unlike her last journey, which had ended with bright light and a sense of overwhelming peace, she landed hard on sofa with an exposed spring.

"Ow!"

"Sorry. I never got around to fixing that before I moved out."

Buffy winced slightly; the spring hadn't broken skin, but it had stung.

"It's ok. Now I realize why Riley always made me sit on the floor whenever we were....here..."

She turned to her companion in shock.

"Xander! You spoke!"

"Well, this is my mind. I still talk in here. I wish you hadn't come."

"Why?"

"You don't want to see this. I don't think I can control stuff, and there are some things that I'd rather you not have to deal with. Plus, I want to be alone."

Buffy folded her arms.

"Too bad. I'm here now, so you'll just have to deal."

He sighed. "It's not me I'm worried about."

She didn't know how to respond to that, so she looked around for a moment before changing the subject.

"So, Xand....why are we in your parents' basement?"

"Seems like the place to be."

"That's not a very good answer."

"It's as good as I've got."

"Right. So...this is it? This is what you spend time doing all day in here?"

"Don't knock it. Usually it's a lot worse."

"Worse? Don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't get much worse than in here."

"You have no idea."

A rumbling began shaking the room. Xander stood quickly; Buffy was thrown slightly to see that in here he was apparently uninjured.

"Xander, what?"

"Run."

"Huh?"

"RUN!!"

Buffy turned and saw an enormous shape rushing toward them with the speed of a locomotive. When she turned to ask him what it was, they were suddenly in a dark, narrow tunnel. They were being run down.

"Oh, shit."

The Slayer quickly caught up with him and they simultaneously turned and saw the gigantic thing slowly but surely catching up. Suddenly Buffy felt like she was running though thick mud, unable to maintain her speed.

Xander had stopped trying; Buffy was trying to pull him along.

"Come on, Xand...don't give up now!!"

"It doesn't matter. There is some stuff even you can't fight, Buff. This is one of them."

She stole a glance at the huge oncoming object, and did a double take, peering at it more closely as it made it's way toward them.

"What exactly is that thing?"

Xander shifted uncomfortably as Buffy spoke very slowly, staring at him dangerously.

"Xander....Lavelle....Harris?"

"Ok, ok. I hate it when you talk to me like my kindergarten teacher. You know how you and Will are always telling me that I should lose a few pounds? It's not that easy for me. You guys wouldn't understand; nothing sticks to Willow and you have Slayer metabolism. I can't help it. We're being chased by something that I try to avoid for you guys."

"First of all, we tell you that because we love you, not because we want to pressure you. Second of all, what the HELL is that thing?"

Xander sighed deeply.

"It's a Twinkie."

- End Chapter Five-