"Angel hangs a mirror upon his door," Illyria answered, turning toward him and tilting her head.
Spike blinked at her. "Wha? A mirror?"
"Yes. The sight . . . it disturbed me." Her head tilted the other way as she seemed to consider this. Spike thought there was more coming, but after a few moments had passed in silence, he realized that was it.
"Why?" He asked the question he knew Illyria was probably asking herself, even though he, too, was disturbed.
"I cannot say for certain. He said it was to remind him where he was, but . . . I do not understand this. Why keep something that reminds him he is not what he wants to be?"
"Good question, Blue. Think I'll see if Wes will talk to him about it. Git still won't talk to me."
-----
Giles paced as he thought, tossing a stake from hand to hand. He glanced over at his desk and the remains of their working lunch, waiting for Wesley to finish the reports and give him an opinion. Forcing himself to sit down, Giles was about to pull out some paperwork when Wesley looked up, pushing the reports away.
"Well, I must say it's a smart approach. I suppose there wasn't time to implement it before assigning the Watchers the first time around." Wesley leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands over his stomach.
Giles snorted, remembering the chaos the Council had been upon his return to London. "There was barely enough time to breathe. We already had enough Slayers to all but fill to planes, just from the States. Not to mention that the few remaining Watchers had been gathering up Potentials and then were suddenly surrounded by Slayers." Shuddering at the memories, he nodded to the reports.
"I'm not sure how to group them though. While age is obvious a consideration, I don't feel that that's flexible enough."
"Well, the grouping them by skills is a start. It will provide a wider range of resources. But you'll have to be careful not to single out those who are more mystically adept. You certainly don't want to seem as if you're favoring them."
"Damn," Giles muttered, leaning in to take a look at the rough lists of possible groups he'd made. "I hadn't thought of that, but you're right." Sighing, and shaking his head, he made a few notes on the changes he'd need to make.
"Also, I'm wondering what you're going to do about the Watchers." Wesley seemed particularly thoughtful as he said that and Giles sat up, giving the man his full attention. "Most of them have very little field experience and . . . we both know how that stresses things. Not to mention the novices with a whole group of Slayers."
Giles nodded, sighing. "That is something I've been thinking on quite a bit. I thought, perhaps, we could audit the Watchers. See how they're coping, if they are."
"And see what the Slayers think of them, how they react to them. It might also help to put one of the more experienced Slayers in each group, if it's possible. Someone with experience, Slayer or no." Wesley leaned forward then, his eyes fixing on the reports in a way that said he was thinking through an idea. "You know, this might be just the thing to draw Angel out of his shell. Get him back out there. He and Sarah are friends, if we could assign him to her team . . ."
Giles shrugged, sighing. "Wesley, he's been through a lot."
"What are you suggesting?" Wesley stiffened a little and Giles hated that guarded posture, though he was fairly sure he deserved it, give that he'd been rather . . . prickly when it came to discussing Angel.
"Only that he needs time to think, Wes. This is the third time he's had to start all over and . . . perhaps it's best to simply let him be."
"And . . . what? Page him when the apocalypse hits?" Wesley raised an eyebrow at him, but it was the glare that made Giles sighed, shaking his head and holding up his hands.
"No, no. That's not what I meant." Rubbing his forehead and wishing for a change of subject he knew he wasn't going to get. While he wasn't completely comfortable with sending Angel out with group of novice Slayers--who all but hero-worshipped anyone from Sunnydale or who had faced the last apocalypse--he knew that was his problem. "I'm not suggesting that you turn your back on him. Only that trying to push him into action now might backfire. Lead him to believe that . . . that fighting is all he's here to do."
Knowing he hadn't expressed his thoughts very well, Giles gave up. Wesley only shrugged. "I can't leave him sitting in his apartment talking to Illyria's philodendron."
Giles nodded. Angel was not a topic he wanted to discuss and he took the easy way out.
"Yes. Well." Giles pushed another report across to Wesley, not at all liking the way the previous topic had ended. Angel was one of the few things he didn't feel he could, or should, discuss with Wesley. "I've been thinking of converting one of the clinics to train Slayers in, at least, basic first aid and such."
Wesley's fingers brushed over his as the man took the report and Giles glanced up to see a small smile on the man's lips. "Very subtle subject change," Wesley chuckled, his fingers sliding up Giles' to draw spirals on the back of his hand.
"I thought so," Giles countered with a snort of laughter at himself.
Spike blinked at her. "Wha? A mirror?"
"Yes. The sight . . . it disturbed me." Her head tilted the other way as she seemed to consider this. Spike thought there was more coming, but after a few moments had passed in silence, he realized that was it.
"Why?" He asked the question he knew Illyria was probably asking herself, even though he, too, was disturbed.
"I cannot say for certain. He said it was to remind him where he was, but . . . I do not understand this. Why keep something that reminds him he is not what he wants to be?"
"Good question, Blue. Think I'll see if Wes will talk to him about it. Git still won't talk to me."
-----
Giles paced as he thought, tossing a stake from hand to hand. He glanced over at his desk and the remains of their working lunch, waiting for Wesley to finish the reports and give him an opinion. Forcing himself to sit down, Giles was about to pull out some paperwork when Wesley looked up, pushing the reports away.
"Well, I must say it's a smart approach. I suppose there wasn't time to implement it before assigning the Watchers the first time around." Wesley leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands over his stomach.
Giles snorted, remembering the chaos the Council had been upon his return to London. "There was barely enough time to breathe. We already had enough Slayers to all but fill to planes, just from the States. Not to mention that the few remaining Watchers had been gathering up Potentials and then were suddenly surrounded by Slayers." Shuddering at the memories, he nodded to the reports.
"I'm not sure how to group them though. While age is obvious a consideration, I don't feel that that's flexible enough."
"Well, the grouping them by skills is a start. It will provide a wider range of resources. But you'll have to be careful not to single out those who are more mystically adept. You certainly don't want to seem as if you're favoring them."
"Damn," Giles muttered, leaning in to take a look at the rough lists of possible groups he'd made. "I hadn't thought of that, but you're right." Sighing, and shaking his head, he made a few notes on the changes he'd need to make.
"Also, I'm wondering what you're going to do about the Watchers." Wesley seemed particularly thoughtful as he said that and Giles sat up, giving the man his full attention. "Most of them have very little field experience and . . . we both know how that stresses things. Not to mention the novices with a whole group of Slayers."
Giles nodded, sighing. "That is something I've been thinking on quite a bit. I thought, perhaps, we could audit the Watchers. See how they're coping, if they are."
"And see what the Slayers think of them, how they react to them. It might also help to put one of the more experienced Slayers in each group, if it's possible. Someone with experience, Slayer or no." Wesley leaned forward then, his eyes fixing on the reports in a way that said he was thinking through an idea. "You know, this might be just the thing to draw Angel out of his shell. Get him back out there. He and Sarah are friends, if we could assign him to her team . . ."
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"What are you suggesting?" Wesley stiffened a little and Giles hated that guarded posture, though he was fairly sure he deserved it, give that he'd been rather . . . prickly when it came to discussing Angel.
"Only that he needs time to think, Wes. This is the third time he's had to start all over and . . . perhaps it's best to simply let him be."
"And . . . what? Page him when the apocalypse hits?" Wesley raised an eyebrow at him, but it was the glare that made Giles sighed, shaking his head and holding up his hands.
"No, no. That's not what I meant." Rubbing his forehead and wishing for a change of subject he knew he wasn't going to get. While he wasn't completely comfortable with sending Angel out with group of novice Slayers--who all but hero-worshipped anyone from Sunnydale or who had faced the last apocalypse--he knew that was his problem. "I'm not suggesting that you turn your back on him. Only that trying to push him into action now might backfire. Lead him to believe that . . . that fighting is all he's here to do."
Knowing he hadn't expressed his thoughts very well, Giles gave up. Wesley only shrugged. "I can't leave him sitting in his apartment talking to Illyria's philodendron."
Giles nodded. Angel was not a topic he wanted to discuss and he took the easy way out.
"Yes. Well." Giles pushed another report across to Wesley, not at all liking the way the previous topic had ended. Angel was one of the few things he didn't feel he could, or should, discuss with Wesley. "I've been thinking of converting one of the clinics to train Slayers in, at least, basic first aid and such."
Wesley's fingers brushed over his as the man took the report and Giles glanced up to see a small smile on the man's lips. "Very subtle subject change," Wesley chuckled, his fingers sliding up Giles' to draw spirals on the back of his hand.
"I thought so," Giles countered with a snort of laughter at himself.
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