Giles sat up, holding his head in his hands. "God Willow, what did you do this time?" he muttered, blinking his eyes and steadying himself. Looking around, he saw that he was outside, sitting in the middle of the street. Everything was familiar, but different. What should have been the busy street outside the library was deserted. He stood carefully and took a closer look. Seeing a figure move through a shaded window of a nearby house, he went up to the front door and knocked.

"We have nothing to give," a frightened voice stammered.

"I don't want anything," he replied.

The door cracked open. Snyder, or at least a man that looked terribly like him, peeked out, screamed, slammed the door in Giles' face, then opened it up again. "How can this be?" he asked amazed.

"I need some help," Giles said carefully.

"Of course - Master ," Snyder stepped aside and let Giles in. "Anything we have is yours, although we don't have much." Giles entered and saw a trembling woman staring at him. "You can have my wife if you like."

"No!" the woman screamed.

"I don't want your wife," Giles said, his mind turning furiously to try to figure this out.

"Please, sit," Snyder gestured to a chair. He looked Giles over, then his face changed. "You're not the Master."

"No."

Snyder threw his hands into the air. "Well that's just great. You scared us to death for nothing. Did you hear that," he asked his wife, who was much calmer now. She opened a nearby door and two children ran out screaming into another room, slamming the door behind them. "I wondered how you were able to walk in the daytime."

'Oh please no', he thought as part of the situation dawned on him. "Can you take me to the - Master?"

"Someone will be by soon to do just that. And when you see the Master please be sure and tell him that I, his humble servant Ronald Snyder, took good care of you and treated you well."

"I shall."

Someone banged at the door. "Tribute," a woman's voice shouted.

"Here they are now," Snyder said getting up and opening the door. "Yes, I have tribute," he stepped back and revealed Giles to the woman. Her mouth dropped open.

Giles now knew where he was, and it was what he had feared. The woman was Emma, or rather some form of Emma. She was wearing a black leather corset over a white silk shirt and a long scarlet silk skirt. A piece of scarlet velvet was around her throat. He approached her. She had two flunkies behind her, muscular men who were there to collect if the payer was hesitant. They fell to their knees upon seeing Giles. 'Oh god, this is very bad.' "Emma, please, take me to the Master."

Emma nodded, mouth still open, and took his arm. She snapped her fingers and the flunkies got up and piled into her red Corvette. One slipped behind the wheel and the other opened the doors for Emma and Giles then sliped into the front passenger seat.

She interrogated him as they rode. "Name?"

"Rupert Giles."

She looked at him for a minute, thoughts visible behind her dark eyes. "How did you get here?"

"An accident," he didn't know if it would do any good to explain or not.

"What kind?"

So much for not explaining. "A girl, a witch, was doing something and there was an explosion and, when I looked up I was lying in the middle of the street."

"A witch?"

"Yes." Then he got bolder. "You're a witch, aren't you?"

She looked at him with no expression. "I used to be."

He nodded.

She thought for a moment before speaking. "Was I the one responsible for this?"

"No."

"This has happened before. We will try to get you back to your own place and time quickly. "

"I would appreciate it."

"So would the Master." She looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to set. "I think we can see him now."

She took him to a large house he wasn't familiar with. They went down into the basement into what Giles assumed was his - Master's - bedroom. "Stay," she told him and went to a table in the middle of the room. She pulled a large piece of scarlet velvet back to reveal a black coffin. She tapped on it and it open a bit. "You should see this," she leaned down and whispered. She stepped back and the coffin opened fully.

It was what Giles had feared - him, only as a vampire. The Master sat up with a demon face and stretched. Emma poured something into a goblet and handed it to him. He drank deeply and his face became normal. He was indeed a dead ringer for Giles.

"Now, what should ..?" But he saw Giles before he could finish. He quickly hopped out of his coffin, without spilling his drink, and walked to the Watcher.

The Watcher observed his vampiric self. "Nice clothes." Master was wearing a pair of black leather pants and a white blouse. The top two buttons were undone.

"Same to you," Master took a drink. Giles was attired in his typical tweed librarian clothes, minus jacket. He was also wearing his glasses, which Master was not. Emma slipped up behind Master and draped an arm around his waist. She studied the stranger who looked so much like her beloved. "Don't get any ideas," he muttered to her. She looked at Master, then at Giles and winked. Giles shoved his hands into his pockets. Master laughed. "He wants you, but he can't have you, at least not without my permission," he flicked his tongue under the velvet choker. Emma closed her eyes and arched her neck toward him. Master nipped her neck but did not draw blood. "Take care of him," he instructed. "We don't want any harm to come to him, it might upset the balance in the other place."

"Yes sir," she said and moved away from him. She held her hand out to Giles, who impulsively kissed it.

Master laughed again, a hearty laugh he had no doubt picked up from his Germanic beauty. "I told you so."

Emma grasped the Watcher's hand and led him to the door. "He shall stay in the uppermost bedroom, guared by me during the day," Master gave a loud 'ha' at that, "and by your elite guards at night."

"See if you can fix the first part of that plan," Master said.

Emma did not answer, instead she opened the door and led Giles out. They walked down the hall to - of all things - the elevator. Emma pushed a button and waited for the machine in silence.

Giles looked at her. "What's the choker for?"

"It means I am a protectant," she said without looking at him. "Anyone who touches me must answer to Master, and there aren't many people willing to do that."

"Touch, or answer?"

Her head snapped around and she looked at him. The elevator dinged and the door opened. They stepped inside and Emma pushed the button for the thirteenth floor. She faced front, her small hands on her shapely hips. "If you require anything just let a guard know, it will be provided you if at all possible."

"You're mortal?"

"Yes," she answered, still not looking at him.

"His bitch."

She laughed. "And don't you forget it."

He moved closer to her. "What if I want you?"

"I'm afraid that is not possible." The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Emma walked out ahead and Giles followed, watching her ample bottom.

*'is bitch? What about us?* Ripper sprang to life within Giles' mind.

'Not now, please. We're in trouble and we need to get back home.' But Emma shook her glossy black hair and Ripper was fully awake.

*Trouble, I like trouble.*

Giles managed to bash Ripper back down as Emma stopped at a door and pulled a set of keys out of seemingly nowhere. She unlocked the door, pushed it open and flicked on the light.

Giles entered. There was a king size four poster bed in the middle of the room covered with a black velvet bedspread and matching canopy. Heavy black velvet curtains covered the windows, blocking any light that might enter. A huge chandaler hung from the ceiling, crystal accents tinkling with the rush of air the opening door caused. Giles walked to the bed and touched the ornately carved ebony posts. A matching table sat beside the bed, a silver bell was it's only occupant. "Exquisite." He looked down at the plush black velvet carpet, then at the walls, papered with dark grey. Strange patterns seemed to emerge and recede from them. "It's like ... "

"A dark, erotic dream," Emma finished.

He turned to her, a bit embarrased. "Yes," he stammered.

"That's what he said," she smiled. "I think you two will get along fine."

"What about the two of us?" Giles asked before thinking. Ripper snickered.

Emma leaned against the door frame. "If you're lucky I'll show you my bedroom. If you need anything else, ring the bell."

"A change of clothes would be nice." The darkness of his surroundings seeped into him. Ripper was growing stronger but he knew he could not let him out with so much thinking to do.

"I'll see what I can do," she said closing the door behind her.

Rupert walked over to a window and pulled the curtains back. It was a bright, beautiful night thanks to the full moon. 'Good thing I'm not Oz.' He watched the people in the street. They were surprisingly peaceful. He opened the window to get a better look and saw a stone balcony jutting out from his room. Closing the window he was at, he pushed back the two huge curtains covering the glass doors leading out to the balcony, carefully opened the doors and stepped out. A gentle breeze toussled his hair. Music, or what the kids called music, was coming from a nearby parked car and several people were dancing to it. He leaned on the edge of the balcony and looked closer. They were all vampires. Everyone he saw was a vampire. "Oh god," he muttered.

"Why do you think they call me Master?" his own voice asked. Giles spun around and Master was standing behind him, holding his goblet again. Giles was too stunned to speak. Master sat in a wrought iron chair and motioned for him to do the same. He did, but scooted the chair away from him a bit first. "I was like you a long time ago, a Watcher. Then one day my Slayer failed me and I was taken to the Master Kronos. Only a Master vampire is allowed to bite a Watcher, did you know that?" he asked and sipped his drink.

"No, I did not," Rupert said, still shaken from being surprised.

"Yes, it's a sign of honor, for the Master. Kronos taught me, then sent me here to increase his numbers. But they were my numbers, not his. We fought, I won," he smiled.

"Are there other Masters?"

"I'm the High Master. There are three other lesser Masters in America in the north, south and midwest."

"And you all get along?"

"For the most part."

"Why did you...why not take them all? Why leave anyone unchanged?"

"To make them our slaves, our food, our amusement." Evil beyond even Ripper's glinted in his eyes. "We do need them, wretched things. And...some of them are very...nice," he sipped from his goblet.

Giles smiled and nodded in understanding. "How did you find Emma?"

Master smiled widely and sighed. "She was brought to me as tribute by a shopkeeper who found her digging through a trash bin. Wretched creature she was then. Turned out by the Devil himself for disobedience, she had nowhere to go, no friends." He again sipped from his goblet. "I admit at first I was going to make her just another minion, but...her...spirit...was so strong, so like my own, I could not do to her what had been done to me. And she offered me a deal."

Giles nodded at the familiarity of it.

"If I would let her remain alive, she would take care of things for me during the day. A field general, so to speak. So I tore a strip of red velvet from her skirt and tied it around her exquisit pale throat and ordered that this woman was not to be touched by anyone except me. To harm her is to sign your own death warrant." He took a long drink from his goblet. "And she makes excellent blood wine. Not too spicy, can't stand it if it's too spicy. You have an Emma?"

Giles had relaxed by now, convinced he was not about to be bitten. He folded his hands over his stomach. "Yes, very much like your own, but I don't know if she makes good blood wine or not." Master chuckled. "We met many years ago during a very bad time for me. She stayed with me despite...despite whatever abuse I meeted out. God knows she took enough of it."

"What makes them stay with us rotten bastards?"

Giles shrugged. "The kindness of fortune I suppose. I'm glad to say I no longer mistreat my darling. She was...is...my equal in spirit and intellect, if not potential cruelty."

"One never knows what one is capable of. She often says that," Master remarked.

Giles nodded. "My Emma is still a witch, although she is trying to break free."

"You will have to help her."

"Yes, I know."

The men were silent, both reveling in thoughts of their darling.

"She is beyond poetry," Master whispered.

"Yes," Giles said, "transcendent of all measures of beauty because she has outlived them all. She eclipses art and artifice."

Master smiled, "Finally, someone who knows how I feel." He stood. "I must go now, to relieve myself," he winked at Giles and went back inside.

Part 2 (NC-17)
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