Endings 17
Wordcount: 2535
17
“Rupert… Mr Giles… We need to talk.”
“Wrong place, I’m afraid,” A pissed-off looking young man crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his eyes, “Mr Giles is my father. And I’ve nothing to do with him, or the family business these days, and I don’t want to know what you white-collar jerks want with me. I’m over it. Out. Have been for years, in case you missed the bleeding memo, you wanker.”
Once he would have been afraid of talking to someone whom was so obviously from the Council in such a way, but his time with Ethan had given him a confidence which he never would have previously suspected at.
“Mr Giles, please, just listen to what I have to say.”
He scowled at the man in a way that he had discovered in the past tended to make people feel out of place, and turned to head back into the depths of the home that he shared with Ethan, smirking to himself at the cursing of the bloke who was stopped short by the wards as he made to trail him inside. He and Ethan had spent a lot of time on preparing the warding around this place, and then Ethan had left the weaving to him; some would have called it an obsessive amount of time.
Ethan, however, had been proud of how far he’d come through his efforts. And that had been all that had mattered. He had capitalised on the places natural defences, or rather, the part of them which had meant that it was impossible for a vampire to cross a threshold uninvited. He had strengthen it, and expanded on it, and now nothing that could think for itself could cross without an invitation. It may have taken a lot of effort but it had been worth it; not only were the minions of the Watcher’s Council kept out; it also made a considerable difference to the number of flies that he wound up swatting each year.
He paused and shot back, over his shoulder from the doorway heading into the study, “Ten seconds. And drop the Mister. Give me one good reason to stay and listen to anything that you may have to say.
“We need you.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Uncle Sam. Seven seconds and counting,” he kept his tone completely absent of anything that could have been taken as any form of respect or fear. The only way to survive amongst these types was to be a drone, “Just because I’m not adding to any of your troubles, you honestly think that means that I’m going to help you against anything that does have the beating of you? In my ideal world you’d never have existed in the first place.”
“Look, Giles. What you’re saying is nothing that we haven’t heard before, and rather more recently than not during the last few months. There isn’t anyone amongst us today that hasn’t heard of how you reacted on being offered a Slayer. But the fact stands, that if there’s no world for you or your partner to live in, in the future then what point remains in working against us? Surely you know that if we weren’t desperate…”
That was definitely enough to stop him from firing a spell at this bloke, one which would blast him to the other side of London in several rearrange-able, transferable and only possibly reattach-able pieces. In fact, it was enough to grasp his attention.
“You think you got something that’s gonna interest me? You’d best come in and explain yourself, I think, mate.”
And with any luck Ethan wouldn’t be home again for another few hours. Because if he did come back early to find a Council representative sitting on their couch… his eyes flicked up and he smirked; -correct that, standing uneasily against the wall of their sitting room, looking around as though expecting the walls to jump forward and bite him… well, it didn’t need to be said that he wouldn’t be impressed.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t waste any serious magic on the likes of you.”
If possible, the bloke went even paler. He’d been so sure of himself out on the street, but now he was in the Ripper’s territory, and he knew it.
“Please, take a seat,” he grinned again. Oh, but it was worth this just to see the way which the man squirmed. Remember the reason why they’d left him to his own devices for as long as they had.
He sat down, looking as though he wished that the couch would eat him… now there was an amusing thought. And whilst thinking it, he did everything to come across in much the same manner as the cat which had cornered the bird. Staring at the man, he dropped into his favourite armchair, directly across the room and folded his hands behind his neck, giving off an air of I don’t care.
“I’m not trying to sell you on anything, Mr… Sorry, Giles. The facts are that the First is moving against us. Systematically wiping out the Potentials. And a world without a defence, a world without a Slayer is a world that’s open to any form of attack. How long do you think we could last without the Slayer bloodline? The truth of it is that we need any powerful Mage which may be at our disposal, and yourself and Mister Rayne fit that description. We need to try and pre-empt the First, and mount an offensive, but our own operatives are failing at it quite spectacularly. We… they think that perhaps someone who’s closer to the, the workings of… well, of Chaos might stand more of a chance.”
He felt his cockiness up and vanish, pulling a face at the echoing space which it had left behind. He didn’t need someone who had spent a lifetime working amongst that sort of thing to spell it out. If the Slayer line were wiped out… Although he didn’t see how such a thing was actually possible. It had to be the Council jumping at shadows again. Any other thought was incomprehensible.
But something like this was, if nothing else, worth looking into themselves.
“You get one thing straight. If Ethan and I are going to do anything, then it’ll be in our own way, and on our own terms. If there’s one thing I know it’s that there’s no way I’m putting myself back under your damned thumb.”
“But we…”
“We know how to fight, thank you very much. I’ll say that I will have had more practise with magic over the last six months then you will have had reason to use it over the entirety of your lifetime. We will look into it, see if it’s as serious as you say, and then I’ll talk to Ethan about doing anything. You take that back to your superior, that’s more ground than anyone else has gained over the last few years.”
The man rose, looking relieved. And it was only then that Giles realised that he hadn’t asked his name. Quickly he told himself that it didn’t matter. Chances were he would never see him again, anyway.
“Hey,” he called, as the man made the door, and paused to look back towards him as he spoke again, “We’ll get in touch with you. Anyone else shows up here, the deals off. I don’t care what dire straights you’re swimming. You and yours give us that much respect, at least.”
“Danke, Giles (#),” the man responded, and in spite of himself he felt the corners of his mouth twitching towards a genuine smile.
“Kein Problem(*),” Giles responded, and the look that he received in return made it more that worth it.
ARR! ARR! ARR! ARR
Looking into things had proved to be it’s own problem. Giles was almost surprised at the way that certain paths closed up whenever one tried to explore them. However, after around five months worth of work, in their own way he and the Council following in the footsteps of himself and his partner, and a few others who lived for magic finally managed to draw ahead of the First, and gain some ground before it. It was hard work, to gain and then maintain a leading position. And in spite of anything that he may have sworn, he and Ethan still found themselves with a Slayer to protect and keep safe, to keep in front of the First’s constant hunt.
For three months after that the Slayer was safe, and secure. For a whole three months they impressed the Council, in spite of Ethan’s best efforts not to. And then hell on earth broke out for the first time, as for some reason they couldn’t pinpoint the barriers separating the realms from one another fell apart. And the Slayer, a sixteen-year old girl known by the name of Amber Tarason was killed, during that crucial thirty minutes, where every single world ran into the next.
In a way he was glad that a good thirty or so Council members had been wiped out in that same instance; at least it meant that there were fewer people around to criticize his and Ethan’s methods. But on the other hand, it was also difficult for anyone to pinpoint the next active Slayer.
And it seemed that whenever any one of their number got close to her, the First’s forces, it’s Bringers were always four steps ahead of them at the very least. It was half a year after that, that several synchronised bombs exploded in the heart of the Watcher’s Council, just as they were about to catch up with the active Slayers again. And the active Slayer was killed in the exact same moment as the newest potential was killed.
After all, the way that the Slayer’s powers were transferred was simple enough. It was called a magnetic transference; as the active Slayer was killed, her powers flowed down the line to the most recent Potential and caught on the first along the line that had the right magical signature. Without the newest Potential alive to draw the Slayer’s power down the line when the Slayer was killed, then the powers and gifts of the Slayer were lost.
All that anyone could do after that was fight to keep the world alive. And eventually, after a while he and those who were working alone the same lines as he and Ethan finally began to make up some ground on the First’s forces, and bring things back to an uneasy middle-ground. And eventually even began to make some ground up, although hr knew that the only reason that such a thing was succeeding was because of the damage that the demonic bleed had done to the First’s ranks.
And with all of this they had no way of reactivating the Slayer line. And because of this, when the second chaotic bleed occurred, as far as Giles was concerned it was only the thought of Julius Jäger Wolf, the only bloke amongst the entire Council line who’d had the courage to approach himself and Ethan that made any point what-so-ever for him continuing the fight.
Even once he’d discovered that the man had been killed in the second chaotic bleed he didn’t mention the fact to Ethan. After all, these days he felt justified in fighting for what was right. He didn’t want to see the world crumbling to hell around him. And he was relatively certain that Ethan felt the same way.
After all, who the hell knew what was waiting for people like himself and Ethan on the other side of this life? He wasn’t a bad person, but he had done bad things, and by no stretch of the imagination was he a good person. Ethan’s continuing existence gave him a reason to keep fighting. The rest of the world could go to hell as long as his lover was safe.
ARR! ARR! ARR! ARR“Rupert?” Ethan’s voice was soft, so as not to startle him, and he slowly blinked his eyes to bring things back into focus, before pulling off his glasses and beginning to polish at them with the edge of his shirt sleeve, so as to give himself a few more moments in which to gather himself.
His legs felt stiff, which meant that he would surely pay the price when he went to straighten up, especially with his bad knee, and he had no idea how long he’d been crouching down in front of the glamour on the wall, simply staring at the blank space there. Almost sheepishly he smiled at Ethan, “Sorry. Just… thinking. Remembering. I suppose I spaced for a few moments?”
“A few moments?” Ethan’s tone held a note of teasing that Giles was sure he hadn’t heard in a while, “Closer to the realm of half a hour, luv. Face it, you’re getting old. Old and absent-minded.”
The mage drew away, laughing as Giles shot to his feet and only just caught him by the shoulder as he made to clear out. Giles tightened his grasp and pushed Ethan back against the wall, trailing one hand down Ethan’s arm to grasp the wrist, and grabbing his other arm at the elbow, pinning him.
“Old, am I?” he prompted Ethan, daring him to continue, his own laugh bitten back although he knew that Ethan would most certainly be able to feel it.
“Old.” Ethan confirmed, giving his best devil-may-care smirk, “Slow, too, Ripper. Once I wouldn’t have had time to take so much as a step.”
He pressed his body flush to Ethan’s, resting his full weight against him, and breathed into his ear, allowing a touch of his old edge to slide into his voice, “You honestly think that I’m going to allow you to get away with that?”
He felt Ethan direct his power, but didn’t have time to react before a spark of energy made him let go and draw back, giving Ethan the space that he needed to get a few more steps between them, “Allow me? You’ll have to catch me again before you allow anything, Ripper.”
It had been a while since they had played this. And Ethan, with his attention entirely on the man in front of him didn’t see the table that they kept near the door before he backed into it, stumbled and found himself sitting on it, as three of the four legs broke and it deposited him on the ground.
“Where’s the atta…” Buffy stopped short, as she came dashing out at the sound of the crash to find Ethan on the ground, leaning back against the broken table and Giles on his knees beside him, one hand on the ground and the other on Ethan’s arm as he simultaneously tried to make sure that he was okay, and control his laughter.
Buffy pulled a face, “In the words of people far wiser than me, get a room guys.”
She turned back towards the study and Giles gave up all his effort at trying to control himself, sinking to the floor beside Ethan, shaking.
Translations: # = Thanks, Giles
* = No problem