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summer_of_giles2016-07-07 03:27 pm
In a Corner of My Soul, Angel Part 6/6, PG
Title: In a Corner of My Soul
Chapter/Episode: Angel
Summary: Giles as the Big Bad of Season 1
Previous chapters
Angel, Part 1, including a review of what's happened so far
Angel, Part 2
Angel, Part 3
Angel, Part 4
Angel, Part 5
Jenny, peering through the window in the door of the library, found Rupert lost in a dusty tome. Of course he was, she thought. He could be a real fuddy-duddy but then, rarely but it did happen, something in him switched-on the sex appeal.
“Knock knock.” He slammed the tome shut. That was rude. If he wanted to keep whatever it was that big a secret, he shouldn't be reading it at school. Hmm, so what did he want to keep secret? He hid the book away in a bag as she approached the table, but she'd seen enough. It was a book on demons. He had demon books scattered all about the library though. What made that one special?
“What do you want?”
Hmm, rude again. “Well, England, I thought I'd come and see you lording over your fief.”
“I'm not lording over anything.”
“Oh, come on. You so think of this library as your fiefdom, which is why you don't want students in here. You see books as precious antiques to be kept under lock and key.”
“I'll have you know that I take my duties as librarian seriously. Naturally books are to be shared. They're crucial to the propagation of knowledge. And of course I want students to visit the library. That's why it's here. That's why I'm here.”
They stared at each other for a long moment before bursting into laughter. Rupert handed over a handkerchief so Jenny could wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Fine,” he said. “I did hope this position would allow me to avoid students. You've got me there.” When he started wiping at his tears with his hands, Jenny returned the handkerchief. “But, just to be clear, I do not consider books too precious to be read. Well, some are obviously. Some are rare antiques, but I do believe that books, in general, should be available for public use.”
She'd been ready to drop it, but if he was going to push the subject. “Which is why you hid that book away the moment I entered the room.”
He brushed a hand through his hair, and damn but it was a sexy move. He knew it too. She could tell. Jenny crossed her arms and stared him down. “Merely a bit of private research,” he said. “Nothing I want to share until I've finished the work.”
When he asked, again, why she was there, it was an obvious attempt to get off the subject, but she let him get away with it. “The Saint's showing at the Sun Cinema this weekend. I thought you might want to go. Granted it won't be up to Moore's version, but Val Kilmer isn't a bad bit of eye candy, which I'm just realizing isn't the best argument to convince you.”
“On the contrary, I'm perfectly happy spending a few hours goggling eye candy. I make time for you, don't I?”
“Just for that, you're buying the popcorn.”
***
Giles watched from the library doors, presumably looking the besotted fool, as Jenny strolled down the hallway. He shouldn’t have made the date, but he’d been so elated when she’d first walked in that he’d found he couldn’t resist. Victories, after all, should be celebrated.
She stopped and waved before vanishing around the corner. Feeling relatively certain she wouldn’t interrupt again, he returned to the tome and translated the text to be certain. “The Bellitorian ritual grants the Master of the amulet dominion over vampires of the Aurelian line. He may empower or weaken them at his will.”
At last he had the ritual, and now, once he had the Amulet of Dominion, he could destroy both Angelus and the Master. He could rip away their strength, leaving them defenseless against even a mere human. Giles didn’t, unfortunately, have the amulet, but magical items tended to be traceable if one knew how. Not that he did know how to trace that specific amulet. It would almost certainly take days of research merely to track down the amulet’s locator spell. Damn! Did nothing ever go smoothly
This research would require tomes he’d stored at the mansion. He most certainly wasn’t about to waste an entire day twiddling his thumbs at the high-school while his research could be moving forward, but he did have a meditation session with Willow that afternoon. She wasn’t coming along as smoothly as he’d hoped. Apparently the girl was too timid to try the Tantric practices. Perhaps if he started her back on magic lessons, she’d realize her focus needed more practice. Right, so he couldn’t leave school for the whole day, but he could fetch a few tomes and bring them to the high-school. In addition, the trip would give him a chance to stop at the zoo to discuss Weirck’s indiscretion.
He arrived before the zoo had opened, but Giles had never allowed a little thing like a locked gate to hold him back. Weirick had shown him the side entrance, one used by the staff. The lock was easy enough to pick. A closed zoo, however, did not necessarily equal an empty zoo. “Hey, you! How’d you get in here?” The three young men approached him as a group. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
Giles had found that nothing threw off aggression like asking for help. “Ah, good, I was hoping someone could help me. I have an appointment with, ah, a Dr. Weirick. Could you direct me to him?”
“Oh.” The young men stopped short. “Dr. Weirick. He’s expecting you?”
“Of course.”
One of the lads led Giles to the office. “Uh, sir? This, um, man said he has an appointment.”
If Weirick was surprised, he didn’t let it show. “Oh, sure, send him in.”
An eclectic mix of weapons, relics of ancient cultures, appeared on display about the room: a Spanish lance-head with such an elaborate design etched into the metal that it must have once belonged to someone of status; a kogatana which looked to be from the Muromachi period; a scabbard, weaponless, but carved with runes suggesting it had been crafted to enclose a soul chaser, an ensorcelled blade created to hunt demons.
Giles closed the door and slammed the newspaper onto Weirick’s desk. “Are you insane?” Tapping a finger onto the girl's photo, he added, “Am I correct in presuming that you killed her?”
“You can’t keep Eyghon caged. He wants to be free.”
The man’s eyes seemed to glow with an unholy glee. Gods, the idiot was more dangerous than he’d imagined. “This has nothing to do with Eyghon. You wanted the power. You took it and made a mess in your own backyard which, honestly, I could care less about except that it’s also my backyard. You do realize that if the Slayer’d found you, you’d be dead?”
“Or she would.”
“You little shit. Do you really think you could kill a Slayer?”
Giles grabbed Weirick’s collar and pulled him close, but the man shot a punch at him. Giles twisted and the punch barely grazed his ribs. He shoved Weirick away. The man had the temerity to laugh.
“Eyghon could kill her.”
Eyghon wants her alive, Giles thought. Or possibly not. The demon, enshrouded in human flesh, would have lost any sense of reason. His longer-term goal would have given way to the thrill of the hunt. “You know nothing. You killed that girl here, in your own zoo, didn’t you? What happens if the police find her? What if they find you?”
“Then your name will be on my lips. If they capture me, I will implicate you.”
Giles left him there. The man was mad. Worse, he was on his guard. Giles shouldn’t have confronted him. Now Weirick'd be almost impossible to kill.
He was angry enough to blaze out of the parking lot but drawing attention to himself this close to the zoo, especially if Weirick's victim was ever found, was far too irresponsible. He drove carefully and quietly until he spotted Buffy standing just outside the zoo's front entrance. He pulled the car over but didn't bother to yell. He laid on the horn. Buffy leaped about three feet into the air and was facing him when she landed. “Giles.” He could see her trying to work out how to explain why she wasn’t running laps around the track, or, no, hold on. He checked his watch. No, she was missing first period. “You know,” she said. “I’m always surprised to see how nice a car you have. A bit above a librarian’s pay grade though, isn’t it?”
“Get. In.”
She joined him in the front seat. As he peeled off, he could feel her eyes on him. “I know you didn't want me at the zoo, but there could have been clues, something only a Slayer would have noticed.”
Gods, he needed to keep her away from the zoo. Who knew what would happen if she ran into Weirick again. “Believe me, there are no clues.”
“But how could you … oh! You went to the zoo to look for clues, didn't you? But …”
“What is it Buffy?”
“Why didn't you bring me? Two eyes, better than one? Um, I obviously mean sets of eyes because how many people have only one eye, other than Long John Silver.”
“I've been training to be a Watcher since I was a lad. Believe me, I didn't miss any clues. And we can't have you dodging out of school for no reason. Do you honestly believe Snyder will be as forgiving of your lapses as Flutie?”
“Oh, yeah, Flutie, really easy going.”
“I want your promise, Buffy. Leave the zoo alone.”
“But Giles …”
“Now.”
“I promise.”
***
One wall of the Ashworth family library had been decimated, denuded of books, to create a gallery for the taxidermal invasion, otherwise known as the old mad Lord's unfortunate obsession with the avian physique. A good third of the tomes had been moved to what had once been a minor drawing room. Antonia, unfortunately, did not have the authority to return the books to their rightful place. Her father-in-law had stipulated in his will that his heir leave them on display exactly as they'd been in his lifetime. Her dear departed Vernon had made no such stipulation in his will but Cecil would not be moved on the subject. His grandfather had wanted the birds on display in the library; there they would remain.
Cecil's fondness for the collection had been anchored the night the lad, a mere child of six at the time, had stolen one of the birds, a snow bunting, from the display. How he'd managed to open the case remained a mystery, but by the time they'd noticed, Cecil had latched onto the stuffed bird as if it were the most delightful toy in existence. In fact, he'd treated it rather like a teddy bear and had named it Snowflake, which had spoken highly of the boy's cleverness given that snowflake was a colloquial name for the snow bunting. His grandfather had been obstinate, demanding the bird be returned to its case, but Cecil had won in the end, talking his grandfather into allowing him to keep the bird as a toy.
“A Professor Miller to see you, my lady.”
“Yes, thank you Geoffrey. We're not to be disturbed.”
The minor Watcher families, those that had never risen to the ranks of the Council, provided a solid pool of men who knew their place. Miller's haircut, the coarseness of the weave on his tweed jacket, and even his mannerisms all suggested he was just such a low-level operative. He wasn't, but very few knew it. Antonia gestured toward a pair of leather chairs. “Please, join me.”
“My lady.”
The servants had been told that Miller had requested a chance to visit the library. Geoffrey certainly knew better, but Antonia knew that Geoffrey wouldn't talk. “I suppose you know why I've invited you here.”
She saw a hint of a smile on Miller's lips before he replied. “One hates to put forward one's own conclusions.”
“Humor me.”
“Your son met with Alan Wyndam-Pryce not long after Jeremy Taylor had compiled data, information relating to demonic attacks limited to specific geographic regions and dates. Taylor is now reporting to another of the Wyndam-Pryce clan, a man who is acting as Traver's agent in this matter.”
“Ah,” Antonia nodded to acknowledge the confirmation. “I knew Quentin had suborned the lad.”
“Mr. Taylor was in a difficult position.”
Antonia waved that off. “Yes, yes, I'm not about to take it out on the lad.”
“Given that your son attempted to invoke the Mortem Filium on Rupert Giles for his part in the death of Roderick Travers Ashworth …”
“You heard about that?” If word of that event every got back to any of the Giles', open warfare wouldn't begin to describe their response.
“The information hasn't been widely spread.”
“Very well. So you understand what I'm asking of you.”
“To compile evidence against Rupert Giles.”
“You're not to kill him.” She wanted to be quite certain he understood that.
Miller nodded in agreement. “Of course not. Revenge isn't half so sweet when your adversary isn't alive to feel the sting of your victory.”
“Good. I'm glad you understand. I've been preparing a place for you. Are you familiar with the Scanning Project?”
“The preservation of our most ancient tomes.” His voice held the ringing tones used by its proponents to describe the project. In a more sedate voice, he added, “by scanning them into a digital database.”
“Naturally there are no invaluable books in the field but by the Council's charter any member can be called upon to present any book for processing at any time.”
“I'm to be assigned to Sunnydale.”
“You're assigned to Rupert Giles. You'll leave within the week.”
***
Buffy leaned across the fence and scanned the grassy – um – grass, the dark rocks looming overhead, as well as the shortish water slide. The zoo really was dead at night. The otters were either invisible in the dark or off someplace where she couldn't see them, most likely the second. Otters were too cute to be demonic.
As she continued down the path, scanning for clues relating to the missing girl, she passed a tank full of water. The manatee, also off sleeping apparently, was, well, not as cute as the otters but not really ugly. When they'd been her for their school trip, Buffy hadn't seen the appeal. It just swam about. Slowly. So not fun.
The seals she could at least see but they were little more than dark blobs on dark rocks. Also asleep. She came to the end of the aquatic exhibit and to a sign telling her to head right for the big cats or left for the bird house. She turned left. Some of the cats might be awake – they were as nocturnal as house cats, right? – but the birds were closer to the exit.
She'd been certain that Slayer senses would turn something up that others had missed, but Giles had been right. She hated to admit it, but there were no clues here, nothing to tell her what had happened to that missing girl, or at least none she could see in the dark. She might as well move on to her regular patrol.
At the edge of the zoo, to the left of the main gate, Buffy stopped to look over the park. A girl had gone missing here and she'd done nothing to stop it. Well, she couldn't have stopped it because the girl had been missing when she'd arrived, but she could have pushed her way into the search. She could have found the girl where the police had failed. Maybe her Slayer sense would have tingled or something.
Jumping over the fence felt like giving up, but the zoo wasn't offering up any clues. Maybe killing a fledge or two would cheer her up. It didn't. Two cemeteries and three dusted vamps later, the guilt still hung heavy like a lump of lead in her heart. Maybe she should up her patrols, add in an extra cemetery each night or maybe mix up her routes so she'd be less predictable.
“Hey, get off of me.” The shout came from outside the cemetery. Maybe it wasn't a demon attack. Maybe it was a normal fight or mugging. Let's see. Sunnydale. Hellmouth. It was probably a demon attack. She heard a scream. Maybe she should get her ass in gear and save that guy.
He'd been knocked to the sidewalk or maybe he'd fallen, and what was he doing walking so near a cemetery late at night anyway? The way the vamp was leaning over him suggested the guy had been knocked down and … hey, that vamp was blocking her view of the guy. If she got between the guy and the vamp, she could stake it without him seeing and wouldn't have to explain why his attacker had vanished into dust.
As she yanked the vamp by the back of its suit jacket, the demon flailed, trying to get its footing. She stabbed the stake through its heart and, presto, dust! All her kills should be so easy. Now all she had to do was convince the guy on the ground that mister three-piece business suit had been a crazed druggie on PCP.
She turned, looked down, and stopped. Owen, still sprawled on the ground, was staring up at her. “Buffy.”
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Wait? What? No conclusion? NEED MOAR!!!
"Dragony!!!" otter whinged with pathetic desperation. "More? Please?"
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I do know where everything is going. I have a full draft written although some threads are changing as I write this draft.
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I could tell. I read (quickly) through the previous chapters before I read this one. That's why I'm interested to see where you are planning on taking things.
I have a full draft written although some threads are changing as I write this draft.
That can be a good things, sometimes. Your brain makes connections that you didn't the first time around. But hopefully not so much that it will force you to restructure your last chapter.
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Ah! That's great! There's something wonderful about discovering when your editing how much more you can unfold something. When I was writing my dissertation, I was shocked how much deeper I could get in sections that I had been going over for ages. Granted that was academic writing, but still. :-)
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You craft such a beautiful and intriguing story (both in this and the previous chapters). And your characterisations as just so spot on. It's like reading a series that never happened. I love it :D
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Aww, Jenny =) That sounds exactly like their kind of banter.
And Owen... I wonder what plans do you have for him (evil ones or not?=))
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