"You're having doubts," Quentin Travers said, stirring his tea slowly. He watched Xander carefully. "Cruciamentum is not easy... for Slayer or Watcher. But it's been done this way for a dozen centuries. It's a time honoured rite of passage."
"It's cruel," Xander replied, lip curling ever so slightly. "To lock her in a... a tomb, weakened, defenseless... and to unleash that monster upon her. If any one of the Council still had actual contact with a Slayer, they would see, but I'm the one in the thick of it."
"Which is why you're not qualified to make this decision. You're too close," Quentin told him.
"Not true," Xander argued. "I am her Watcher."
"A Slayer is not just physical prowess, you know," Quentin said, sitting back. "She must have cunning, imagination, a confidence derived from self-reliance. And believe me, once this is all over, your Faith will be stronger for it."
"Or she'll be dead for it," Xander spat.
"Alexander, if this girl is everything you say she is, after all she has done... you've nothing to worry about."