Sylvia was ready for him. Tonight, victory would be hers. He would come to her out of guilt. That was allright. And he would hate her. Well, that was allright too. She would have what she wanted. She would be married to the Watcher.
She checked everything one more time. A bottle of wine waited discreetly on the sideboard. Not champagne. That would be too obvious. Just a dry white. To toast a mutually agreeable future. One of Rupert’s favourite operas played on the tape recorder. And the finishing touch. Herself. More casual, with her hair pinned back. But discreetly elegant. This would be approached as a business arrangement. Less threatening for him that way.
She jumped at the knock on the door. She must be more nervous than she thought. Taking a calming breathe, she opened the door, allowing a small smile to play across her lips. "Rupert."
"Sylvia." He had been worried on the way here. Now he felt oddly calm. The rage helped. Remembering what she’d done to Buffy would carry him through. "It’s time to talk, don’t you think?"
She felt a small shiver of apprehension go through her. Something didn’t seem right. He was too self-assured. She shrugged it off. She had won. That’s all that mattered. "Of course. Won’t you come in?"
He stepped past her into the centre of the room. The setup was so obvious, the trappings so perfect. He realised how close she had come to triumph. Thank the gods for his lucky escape. Thank the gods for Buffy. He turned to face her.
"It’s over, Sylvia."
"What?"
"You lost. It’s time for you to leave."
She shook her head in disbelief. "No. You can’t..."
"Yes. You miscalculated. You attacked Buffy. I want you out of Sunnydale tomorrow, or else I won’t be accountable for my actions." He didn’t feel guilty about trying to scare her. Any method that succeeded in disposing of her was welcome.
"Buffy! All you think about is your precious Slayer. Well, I’ll go. Straight to the Council! I’ll tell them! See how long you stay here then!"
"Go ahead. I really don’t care what you tell them. In fact, I shall probably be making a report before you return to England. You can’t hurt me any more. And I will never give you a chance to hurt Buffy again." He looked at her with pity. "You know. I made a mistake all those years ago. Instead of my compassion getting in the way, I should have rejected you outright. At least, you would have been able to get on with living your own life. Instead of trying to live your father’s." He’d wanted her to show emotion before. Well, now she was. And it made her look ugly. Hatred, loathing, self-pity. Everything that was eating away at her heart. Her soul. He’d seen enough. He moved toward the door.
"Rupert, please. He’ll hate me."
He turned to look at her one more time. "That’s the saddest part of this whole tale. A few years ago the Council offered an invitation for you to become a Watcher. Your father rejected it on your behalf. Said you weren’t worthy enough." By the shock on her face, he knew his guess had been right. She hadn’t known. "Oh. I also found out why the Council had rejected him. He was too selfish. He didn’t want to become a Watcher to serve the Slayer and mankind. He wanted the title for his own glory and self-satisfaction. Like father, like daughter." With that final dart, he opened the door and left. They would not be seeing her again. He almost hoped that she would break away from the confining influence of her father. She really had suffered enough. 35 years of purgatory was enough for anybody.
He shook off the remaining gloom caused by the uncomfortable scene. The past was truly over. It was time to move onto the future. His. And Buffy’s.
