Fic: The Fire of Thine Eyes, Giles/Wesley 14/17
Title: The Fire of Thine Eyes (Warmth & Heat Redux)
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17 (overall rating)
Part: 14/17
Feedback and concrit adored: lostgirlslair @ yahoo.com
Spoilers: Begins directly after 'Bad Girls', AU from there on out with bits and pieces taken from all over the end of BtVS season three.
Summary: Giles finds Wesley lying, badly beaten, on the library floor.
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither
Big, huge thanks to beadtific, janedavitt, kyrieane, malnpudl, and psychoadept for their beta magic. Thanks to the Buffyverse Dialogue Database for, well, the dialogue. And thank you to everyone who read the first versions of these stories. Your interest and feedback have made this a pleasure to work on.
Previous parts located here.
Wesley looked up from his book for what had to be the fifth time in ten minutes. His eyes met Rupert's over the coffee table, both of them smiling before looking back to their respective texts. Wesley shook his head at himself, though he couldn't seem to make himself stop smiling as he attempted to buckle down to the work at hand.
Right then, there were enough things going bump in the night in Sunnydale to start a really horrid rock band. He and Rupert had been working themselves to exhaustion and still they knew so little. At this point they were taking turns just to give themselves breaks from the same subjects. Today was Rupert's day researching the knife while Wesley attempted to figure out what the Mayor's Ascension would hold for them.
He had managed to exclude one possibility. The Ascension did not include the ritual flaying of the demon Azarath, and, though you never really could tell with demons, Wesley was betting Azarath was fairly glad. Unfortunately, it gave them nothing to work with.
"Azarath is safe," Wesley announced bitterly.
"Damn," Rupert muttered.
"You have something against Azarath?" He looked up to find Rupert staring at two or three pages of their notes.
"Never met him, but . . . I think you and I have been overlooking something."
"Damn. What?" Wesley stood and went to Rupert's side. He rested his chin on Rupert's shoulder and read over the page Rupert was looking at, but he saw nothing he hadn't read a hundred times. Of course, that was what 'overlooking' meant.
"We know that this knife was made by the Tes'ri, the inscription on the tomb was written in Tes'ri, using Vetrian grammar. All the people we've come across from this group are human and they're dedicated. We assumed a cult linked to the demon horde that marauded this area, one devoted to whatever Hellgod commissioned the knife."
"Well, the kind of dedication it takes to commit suicide under such circumstances is usually linked to religious passion," Wesley said with a shrug. "I don't understand what you're getting at."
"You have a note here about a Vetrian group that came to this area some years before the death of the horde leader?
"Yes. There's no record of what they did, but the Vetri are usually not ones for out and out slaughter. They prefer to cause havoc through trickery . . . Oh, good Lord." Wesley rocked back on his heels, considering. "You don't think these humans are disciples of the Vetrian group?"
"They've been known to use humans before," Rupert said, reaching for another book.
"But . . . Why? They've definitely caused quite a lot of havoc and confusion, but they're not chaos worshipers, they still need a reason to do things."
"So do chaos worshipers," Rupert commented off handedly, "they just need less of one than most people would. That, however, is beside the point. I don't know what their reason would be, but considering the Vetrian grammar of the inscription, it makes sense. They've been tangled up in this somehow. Somewhere along the line a Vetri, apparently posing as Tes'ri, wrote that inscription."
Wesley nodded, working through the problem from this new angle. "Well, you're right. It makes more sense this way. We'd been through everything a Tes'ri cult might want, everything from raising their Hellgod to resurrecting the horde leader from his bones and none of it fits. The knife doesn't have that kind of power; it mostly serves as a test, a demon's idea of an oath of fealty, and comes with a built in low-grade curse that only effects the wielder if they're disloyal. It's . . . it's nothing."
"So . . ." Rupert looked at the mounds of books piled around the coffee table and shrugged. "Now we see if we can fit the Vetrian group into this mess."
"I don't know how we would. We're missing something," Wesley sighed, returning to where he'd been sitting. "Why now? Why would they bother? The knife is nothing important in and of itself, why go to this much trouble to get it out of that tomb?"
"Well, uh, what events are happening soon? Anything that might be meaningful?"
"The Ascension if we don't find something," Wesley muttered and then looked at Rupert. "You don't think this could have something to do with Mayor Wilkins, do you?"
Rupert tossed his glasses on the coffee table rubbed at his eyes. "Honestly, I have no idea."
****
Wesley shut his book, glancing over at the office. He needed a break from the translating, from words in general. As much as he normally loved research, at the moment he was contemplating whether or not blowing up the library would be particularly helpful.
"I want to leave Sunnydale," Buffy announced, striding into the library.
Wesley stood, blinking. "I don't understand."
"I want to leave," Buffy said with a shrug, her expression saying without words that Wesley should know what she was talking about.
Wesley opened his mouth, thought for a moment and realized the best he could come up with was, "What? Now?"
"No, not now. After I graduate. You know? College?" Buffy huffed, glancing over to Rupert as he came out of the office doorway.
"Buffy, I know we've talked about your going away--"
"I got into Northwestern," She announced, smiling at Rupert.
He returned it, nodding. "That's wonderful news. Good for you"
"Buffy, that is wonderful news," Wesley agreed. "But there's so much to deal with right now. Faith gone bad, the Mayor's Ascension coming up . . ."
"I know it's complicated," Buffy put in, giving him a pleading look. "I'm aware that my graduation may be, among other things, posthumous, but . . . What if I stop the Ascension? What if I capture Faith?"
"I very much hope you will," Rupert put in with a small sigh.
"If I do that, then all you guys have to do is keep the run of the mill unholy forces at bay through mid-terms and I'll be back in time for Homecoming. And every school break after that. Can we at least think about it?"
"Perhaps," Wesley allowed. "If circumstances were different . . ."
"I'll make them different," Buffy insisted, her posture straightening and a look of determination on her face. "I'm tired of waiting for Mayor McSleaze to make his move while we sit on our hands counting down to Ascension Day. I mean, let's take the fight to him."
"No. No!" Wesley jumped in at once. "Much too reckless. We're at a distinct disadvantage. We don't know anything about the Mayor's Ascension." He glanced to Rupert for support, but Rupert shook his head.
"She's right." Wesley felt his jaw drop at Rupert's words. "Time's running out. We need to take the offensive." He turned to Buffy and Wesley followed his gaze, still in shock that Rupert had agreed to this insanity. "What's your plan?"
"I gotta have a plan? Really? I can't just be proactive with pep?"
"No. You want to take the fight to them? I suggest the first step would be to find out exactly what they're up to."
"Oh. I actually knew that. I thought you meant a more specific plan, you know, like with maps and stuff. Great. We'll find out what they're up to."
Wesley stared at them both, wondering when they'd both completely lost their minds. Buffy bounced out of the library and Rupert turned back to him.
"How could you encourage such recklessness?" Wesley sank down onto the library table, blinking rapidly at Rupert. "She's going to get herself killed!"
"Wesley . . . She's right. We've been through everything we can find with even the smallest reference to Ascension and we've got nothing." Rupert paced the floor in front of Wesley, his agitation obvious.
"I know you're frustrated, Rupert, as am I, but this is a dangerous move."
Rupert turned to him, sighing as he stepped forward and laid his forehead against Wesley's. Seeking comfort as well as offering it. "We've got nothing. If we're going to stop this, we need more."
"Even if that means putting Buffy at risk?" Wesley asked, though the fight had gone out of him. Despite himself, he was seeing Rupert's point.
"Buffy is always at risk. She's just going to do some recon, basic tactics when all other means of information gathering are out." Rupert shrugged, stepping away a little. "We have to do something. You and I are killing ourselves to find a single scrap of information. We're not going to be able find out in time. We need more."
Wesley sighed, and nodded. "You're right. We need more information. I just don't want to do anything rash."
Rupert smiled at that, reaching out to brush his fingers along Wesley's cheek. "I know. Neither do I. We'll see what Buffy finds out and what she wants to do next."
Wesley nodded, glancing back at his books and trying to inject a note of humor into his voice when he said, "Does this mean I can take a small break to realign my eyeballs and, perhaps, straighten my back?"
Rupert raised his eyebrows at that, smiling crookedly.
"Stop that, Rupert." Wesley rolled his eyes fondly, smiling as he stretched. "I was actually hoping for a little exercise."
Rupert said nothing, only tilting his head and smiling again.
"You, my love, have a dirty mind," Wesley grumbled. "So what will we be crossing? Staves or swords?"
"You're doing that on purpose!" Rupert accused with a laugh, following Wesley to the book cage.
"It's certainly not my fault if you can't get your mind off of me," Wesley shrugged, pulling two fencing foils from the weapons cabinet and tossing one to Rupert.
"You do realize that I'm going to thoroughly trounce you?" Rupert's smile turned smug as he backed out into the library. Wesley would have to make sure he never let Rupert know how much he liked that swaggering attitude. Rupert was dangerously attractive as it was.
"Probably," Wesley allowed. "Hand to hand weapons were never my best. I'm much better with ranged weapons." Wesley began a sequence of blows, mostly just to get a look at what he was up against, and realized Rupert wasn’t just being arrogant.
****
After parking Oz's van, Wesley found himself glowering at City Hall, already tense enough to scream. The 'plan' had been far too hasty, with no time for real consideration, or even observation of the target. Wesley clenched his teeth, glaring at Rupert and his offer of tea.
"I can't believe you backed them on this. Rupert, one more day of planning would not have hurt anything." Rupert handed him a cup of tea anyway and Wesley took it, sighing as he stared at it.
"Wesley," Rupert sighed, shaking his head. "I had no choice. Supporting her decisions is imperative and she wasn't going to be dissuaded. She can take care of herself and Angel will see to Willow. They'll be fine."
Wesley wasn't sure who that last bit was intended to reassure. He stared at City Hall and shook his head. "We have no control over any of this," he finally said, his eyes flicking down to his tea.
"No," Rupert agreed softly. "It's all up to her, Wesley. That's exactly why she has to rely on her own judgment."
"And what if she's wrong? We all die because she makes a miscalculation? No, Rupert, don't answer that." Wesley already knew the answer to that question. Frighteningly, he also realized why the Council had become what it was. It was an attempt to feel as if they had some say in, some control over their own lives. They could all fight with everything in them and it would always come down to 'one girl in all the world.' That was hardly fair, to any of them, including Buffy.
Rupert's hand slid into his and Wesley sighed, squeezing slightly.
"Scary thought, isn't it?" Rupert's voice was hushed, as if they were sharing a secret and Wesley supposed they were, in more ways than one.
"Terrifying. Uh, not-not because I don't believe Buffy's good enough or smart enough, but . . . she's human. Mistakes happen all the time. No one person's judgment will ever be completely without flaw. We fight, day after day, take duty onto our shoulders, just as Buffy does, and it all comes down to her. God, I feel so sorry for her. And for us." He saw Rupert nod out of the corner of his eye and turned to face him. "That's what you were trying to tell me, wasn't it? About Faith?"
Rupert shrugged, suddenly looking far more tired than was usual. "In a way, though I don't think I managed to put it as eloquently as you just did. I once told Buffy she was lucky to have purpose in life. She said, 'can't I just have a life?' She's managed both, as much as is possible. It's their choices. Always their choices. The rest of us can only support them and hope to teach them . . . I don't know, teach them whatever Slayers need to know. The trouble is, I think, figuring out what that is."
Wesley snorted, nodding. He leaned in and kissed Rupert's temple and then turned back to watch the entrance to City Hall. They sat in silence, both of them sipping their tea, waiting. Both of them grew more and more tense as time passed and Willow had still not returned. Rupert shifted in his seat. "Willow should have come back by now."
"She might have stayed with Buffy and Angel. There could have easily been further wards that needed her attention once they were inside." Wesley purposely did not point out that that was exactly why further observation before starting this would have been helpful.
"You're right." Rupert still didn't sound particularly happy. Just then there was a commotion at the front of the building. "That, I think, is our cue."
Wesley nodded, starting the van and pressing hard on the gas. The tires squealed as he drove past the front of the building. To his surprise, Rupert leaned out the van's window, shouting at the vampires. Wesley reached over and grabbed the man's belt, trying to tug him back inside.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked, trying to split his attention between Rupert and the road ahead of them.
"Getting their attention," Rupert called, laughing.
"You're insane," Wesley shouted, but he was laughing too, finding it almost impossible not to when Rupert was insulting the vampire's lineage in Cantonese. When their pursuers fell behind, Rupert slid back inside, still chuckling under his breath.
"And I thought you'd keep the children from doing anything rash," Wesley muttered, though he was still smiling and gave Rupert a fond glance.
"Wherever would you get that idea?" Rupert shook his head, nodding toward the next street. "We should get back to the library and destroy that damn box."
Wesley snorted and pointed the van in the school's direction, anxious to get this all over with. Shortly after, he and Rupert entered the library to find a ring of worried faces.
"Willow's not with you?" Xander asked as soon as they entered, hopping down from the library table and taking a step toward them.
"No," Wesley needed only to glance at Rupert's face to see the dawning horror.
"How did you guys let . . ." Buffy began and then let her words trail, sighing and clearly trying to collect herself. "How did this happen?
"We thought she stayed with you," Rupert explained. Wesley stepped nearer to Rupert, wanting to offer comfort, but having none to give. If Mayor Wilkins and his people did have Willow . . . This was going to be bad.
"They must have grabbed her when she hit the ground," Angel said. "Buffy, I'm sorry."
"Look, it's nobody's fault, okay." Buffy's voice was the sound of stress itself, as tense as her body as she paced. "We just need to focus and deal. Oz, I swear I won't let them hurt her."
"We go back," Xander suggested. "Full-on assault."
"They'll kill her," Rupert said in a voice that might have seemed calm if Wesley hadn't known him so well. The sound made his throat tight, made it even harder for him say what he was thinking, though he knew he had to.
"We're assuming they haven't already," he kept his voice quiet, trying to control his frustration and worry. He wanted to step closer to Rupert, to touch his lover and soothe him with false promises that Willow would walk through the door at any moment. He wished he could, could offer something other than the hateful words he'd just spoken.
"No." Buffy contradicted. "No, they know what she means to us. She's too valuable as long as we still have the box." Wesley let out the breath he'd been holding, nodding. She was right. Willow was alive for the moment. They just had to find a way to keep her that way until they'd destroyed the box and formulated a plan to get her back. Buffy's next words made Wesley's stomach drop. "We trade."
"We can't," Wesley spit out automatically, forgetting to guard his tone.
"No, it's the safest plan." Buffy said, looking to Rupert for support. "It's the only way, right?"
"It might well be." The reluctance in those words made Wesley want to wince in sympathy, but he had to stand his ground. They were talking about the lives of thousands of people and someone had to remind them of that. If Rupert couldn't, Wesley would.
"Look, we call the Mayor and arrange a meeting," Buffy began, but Wesley stepped forward, shaking his head.
"This box must be destroyed." He worked to keep himself calm this time, trying to hold back his fear. There would be time enough for that later. Now, he had to get Buffy and the others to listen, whether they wanted to or not.
"I need a volunteer to hit Wesley," Xander said, glaring at him hard.
"Rupert, you know I'm right about this," he said, looking for back up in the face of the palpable anger in the room. He realized no one wanted to hear this, no one wanted to consider it, but someone had to make them listen.
"Wes, you want to duck and cover at this point?" Buffy stepped toward him, her jaw clenched tight and her posture rigid. Wesley faced her, desperate to get her to understand. His frustration got the better of him.
"Damn it, you listen to me! This box is the key to the Mayor's Ascension. Thousands of lives depend on our getting rid of it. Now I want to help Willow as much as the rest of you, but we will find another way." He wanted her to know that he wanted to rescue Willow as much as they did. He didn't want her hurt, or dead any more than he wanted the sun to fail to rise, but there were other things at risk, so many people who didn't know the risks. He knew that attitude probably made him seem cold, but he hardly cared at the moment, except that it made the others less likely to listen.
"There is no other way," Buffy insisted.
"You're the one who said take the fight to the Mayor." Frantic, Wesley searched for anything he could use, any leverage that might make Buffy stop and think here. They had the means to stop the Mayor in their grasps. "You were right. This is the town's best hope of survival. It's your chance to get out."
He knew those were the wrong words as soon as they spilled from his lips. From the corner of his eye, Wesley saw Rupert cringe.
"You think I care about that? Are you made of human parts?" Buffy stared at him in disgust and Wesley had to hold himself from flinching. It didn't matter what she thought of him, if he could get her to listen. It didn't look as if that were going to happen, but that didn't mean he didn't have to try.
"All right!" Rupert snapped, drawing all eyes. "Let's deal with this rationally."
"Why are you taking his side?" Buffy asked, incredulity heavy in her voice. "Just because you two are--"
Rupert and Wesley both jumped in before she could finish that sentence and soon all three of them were shouting, trying to be heard. Wesley raised his voice just as Buffy and Rupert both went quiet.
"You'd sacrifice thousands of lives?" He asked. "Your families, your friends? It can all end right here. We have the means to destroy this box."
There was a crash from behind him and Wesley spun around. His eyes found the pot they'd needed to destroy the box in shards upon the floor. He looked to Oz, who stood there, silent, meeting his gaze. They stared at one another for a moment and Wesley heard Buffy say, "Giles, make the phone call."
Wesley turned, watching Rupert head to his office before he looked back the others. Xander was still giving him that glare, as if he were trying to set Wesley aflame using just the power of his anger. Wesley ignored it, looking to Buffy. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a hand, shaking her head. "Don't Wesley. Really, you've said enough."
Wesley sighed, closing his eyes as he slumped into one of the chairs. Removing his glasses, he tossed them onto the library table and rested his head in his hands. Except for the murmur of Rupert's voice from the office, no one spoke.
He heard Rupert's familiar footsteps come from the office. Rupert stopped beside him, laying a hand on Wesley's shoulder, but addressing everyone when he said, "He'll trade. In the cafeteria, in an hour's time."
"Than we'd better get to work," Buffy commented. Wesley listened to the others footsteps, waiting until the room fell silent again to look up at Rupert.
"You know I'm right," he said softly, seeing Rupert flinch. Pushing his chair back, Wesley rose, straightening his suit.
"Wesley, it's--"
"Later. We'll talk later." Wesley said, unsure that he could keep himself calm if he and Rupert had this discussion now. "Apparently, we have a trade to make."
Wesley glanced over, finding the box gone, and went to join the others in the cafeteria. He heard Rupert sigh behind him and then heard him following. In truth, Wesley also wasn't sure what there was to say between the two of them. Three times in a single day, he'd been shut out, his opinions and thoughts cast aside without even being given a moment's consideration. Rupert had already made his position on that clear and, to some degree, Wesley understood that it came down to what Buffy chose. That didn't mean Rupert couldn't at least do him the courtesy of listening.
Once in the cafeteria, he found the others working to block the windows and all the doors save the front entrance. He understood the strategy behind it, but it made him shiver. Being locked inside this room was not his idea of a fun evening, not that he had any hopes that this would be anything resembling fun.
No one asked his help, but Wesley joined in anyway. He didn't agree with this plan. He thought it was a disastrous decision, but it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.
Several times, he caught Rupert watching him as they prepared for the Mayor's visit. Each time he glanced away quickly, trying to keep his composure. He was angry, hurt, but he didn't know what to say and he didn't think that was going to resolve itself soon. Finally, they were finished. Oz and Xander tested each of the doors.
"The whole place is locked down, except for the front," Oz pronounced.
"Yeah, it gives me that comforting trapped feeling," Xander said and, for once, Wesley couldn't have agreed with him more.
"One way out means one way in. I want to see them coming." Even as Buffy finished the words, the lights switched off, throwing them in near darkness.
Wesley sucked in a breath, his heart beat picking up to a rapid pace, adrenaline flooding his system. Suddenly, the uneasiness in his gut tripled, leaving him jittery and finding it hard to breath. Rupert's hand landed on his back and, despite his current feelings, Wesley felt himself calm a bit, felt his body react to Rupert's nearness and the heat that soaked through Wesley clothing and into his skin.
The doors were thrown open by two vampires in game face, who held them as Mayor Wilkins entered. Wesley eyes slipped from him to Faith, who followed, hustling their hostage before her. Faith held a knife to Willow's throat, seeming so calm that Wesley felt bile rise.
The Mayor advanced nearly to the center of the room, Buffy stepping up to face off with him. "Well, this is exciting, isn't it?" He chuckled, voice so cheerful Wesley felt a sudden urge to take Rupert's bat and see just how far Wilkins' invulnerability extended. "Clandestine meetings by dark of night. Exchange of prisoners. I just, I feel like we should all be wearing trench coats.
"Let her go," Buffy said, cutting right to the point.
"No," The Mayor countered. "Not until the box is in my hands. So you're the little girl that's been causing me all this trouble. She's pretty, Angel. A little skinny. Still don't understand why it couldn't work out with you and my Faith. Guess you kind of just have strange taste in women."
"Well, what can I say? I like them sane." Wesley sighed as Angel said those words, his eyes skipping to Willow as she made a pained sound. Faith tightened her grip around Willow.
"Angel," Oz said in a warning tone.
"Well, I wish you kids the best, I really do. But if you don't mind a bit of fatherly advice, I, uh, I just don't see much of a future for you two." Wesley tuned out the Mayor's words, his eyes focusing on Faith, wondering if he could get through to her, even though he knew it was foolish to even consider. She'd used him to find ways to make herself better and then betrayed him. Not that she hadn't betrayed them all, but Wesley had truly believed they'd been getting somewhere.
Faith looked up, as if sensing his gaze on her. She met his eyes and some strange expression crossed her face. She opened her mouth, as if to say something though he knew that couldn't be her intention. Then she looked away, focusing her eyes on Mayor Wilkins, her expression hardening.
Wesley closed his eyes for a moment, but snapped them open when he heard the Mayor say, "Make the trade."
Angel and Faith approached one another cautiously. Wesley kept his eyes on Faith, watching her body for even the slightest sign that she was going to make an unexpected move. He stared so hard he thought he must be burning holes in her skin. They traded, Willow going to Oz at once and Faith retreated with the box.
"Well, that went smooth," The Mayor said with a vicious little smile. The front doors opened again and Wesley's eyes flew to them, expecting more vampires or demons. Something, some trick on the Mayor's part that would turn this into a slaughter.
What he saw instead was Principal Snyder and two uniformed police officers.
"Nobody moves!" Snyder shouted, glowering at them all. Wesley's eyes flicked to the Mayor, who stepped back into a darker part of the room. One of the policemen locked the front door and Wesley felt his throat begin to close up. Rupert was still beside him, but the man's hand was gone, both of them firm on the baseball bat Rupert had felt the need to grab. Wesley wished he'd have thought to find a crossbow.
"I knew you kids were up to something," Snyder was saying. When Buffy tired to tell him to leave, he glared at her. "You're not giving orders, young lady. I suppose you're going to tell me I won't find drugs in this box." Snyder grabbed the box out of Faith's arms and Wesley's eyes went wide as Faith pulled her knife.
"Wait!" Buffy snapped at Faith. Wesley wasn't sure Faith would, for a heartbeat. He thought she'd actually stab Snyder right then and there.
"Principal Snyder," Mayor Wilkins said, stepping out of the dark part of the room. Snyder turned at the sound of Mayor's voice and Wesley watched his eyes grow wide as he saw Faith's knife, bared and ready to strike. Wesley eyes focused on the knife as well and he sucked in a breath. Whatever words were spoken then became background noise as he squinted in the darkness, trying to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.
"Rupert," he whispered softly. Rupert leaned toward him, though, like Wesley, he never really took his eyes off of what was happening. The difference was that Wesley's eyes were still on the knife. "Rupert, that's the knife. Faith has the knife from the tomb."
"No! Don't do that!" the Mayor shouted and Wesley eyes snapped to him and then to where he was looking. One of the policemen had opened the box and then dropped it as something spider-like leapt out. It attached itself to his face and the man began to scream, the sound filling the cafeteria. He reached up, tried to pry it away and all Wesley could do was watch as he collapsed to the floor, ceasing all movement and sound a moment later.
The spider skittered away into the shadows and Wesley began looking for it, shifting around between the chairs and tables. "Oh God," he breathed.
"Where did it go?" Xander was not the only to ask that question, but he was the one Wesley heard. They were all shifting about, eyes trying to penetrate the shadows.
Snyder shouted, "Get that door open!"
And Wesley heard Rupert shout, "No! You can't let that thing out of here!"
Glancing over to the policemen, Wesley saw that the man hadn't listened to Rupert and was already fumbling with his keys. Wesley couldn't take his eyes off the shadows for long, however, and so heard rather than saw the keys drop to the floor.
"I still want to know where it went," Xander said and, for the second time in one night, Wesley found himself in total agreement.
"Listen," Buffy said softly, but everyone quieted, suddenly listening hard.
There were skittering sounds, so low Wesley couldn't identify their location at first. A strange, soft keening sound brought his, and most everyone else's, attention to the ceiling. Wesley heard the Mayor shout and his eyes snapped to the man.
Faith shouted, "Boss," and ran to help him. She ripped the spider free, throwing it against the wall. Wesley's eyes followed it as it hit, flipped itself upside right again, and skittered out of sight. Swallowing hard, Wesley reached for the chair beside him, glad to find Rupert doing the same. He stepped up onto the table, trying to get a high enough vantage point to spot the thing.
The sound of something slamming caught his attention. Wesley's eyes whipped to the box, which Buffy had just closed. His sigh of relief was premature. One of the creatures dropped onto her back. Buffy flipped over, crushing it on the floor. Biting his lips, Wesley began to look around for the last one. His eyes caught on Faith, who was staring at him. He watched in horror as her arm drew back, knife held for a throw.
"No!" He shouted, ducking down and covering his head as the she let go of the knife. He heard it hum through the air above his head, heard it thunk into the wall behind him. He stood, turning slowly, blinking at the carcass of one of the creatures from the box, pinned to the wall by Faith's knife, their knife, the knife from the tomb. He stared at it for a long moment before looking back to Faith. The Mayor had the box in his arms, looking far too damn happy for Wesley's peace of mind.
"Is that all of them?" Oz's asked.
"Ah, not really. You see, there's about fifty . . . billion of these happy little critters in here. Would you like to see?" There was a rattle of keys and Wesley looked toward it, watching as the policeman finally got the door open and raced from the room, followed quickly by the two vampires that had come with Mayor Wilkins.
"Faith, let's go." The Mayor's voice recalled Wesley to his thoughts and Wesley turned to Faith, finding her watching him. Their eyes met and he saw a look of uncertainty cross her face.
"Faith," both he and the Mayor said together. Faith remained still for a moment, then turned and left.
Wesley deflated, any energy he'd had remaining draining away as he climbed down from the table. Rupert's hand brushed his arm and he looked over to his lover, finding a sad, sympathetic look in Rupert's eyes. Wesley ducked his head, but pressed his shoulder to Rupert's, silently thanking him.
"Well," he said, "that went swimmingly."
"We did alright," Buffy replied and then went to where Wesley had been standing. She climbed up onto one of the chairs and pulled the knife from the wall. She stared it for a moment, turning it over in her hand before she turned to Rupert. "This is the knife from the tomb! How the hell did Faith get a hold of it?"
"Wesley noted that," Rupert replied, shaking his head. "I can't imagine that it was the Mayor's people who attacked us. It doesn't seem his style, but . . . I don't know."
Buffy sighed, motioning with the knife toward the doors. Wesley followed the others, wanting to hear from Willow what had happened. Perhaps they could divine some much needed information from something that had been said in her presence. They had no other options now.
When they reached the library, Buffy put the knife in Rupert's office. Willow and Oz spent a moment together, which Wesley did his best to ignore. In fact, he stayed at the back of the group, letting the others give Willow hugs and exchange fast paced babble about the evening. He was the only one not granted a moment of her time, but he understood that. She'd likely be angry when she'd heard what he'd said, but as much as Wesley disliked that thought, he knew he'd been right. They should have found another way, a way to get Willow back without giving up the box, a way to destroy the box after exchanging it for Willow. If Buffy had only listened to him for a moment, he was certain they could have come up with something.
Eventually Oz, Xander, Cordelia and Angel left and it was only Buffy, Willow, Rupert and himself. Wesley kept his distance, unsure how to feel or what to say. Willow told them about her 'adventure'. When she mentioned the books of Ascension, both he and Rupert perked up, but she kept going, telling Buffy about her encounter with Faith.
"This is fascinating," Rupert put in, "but let's get back to the point. You actually had your hands on the Books of Ascension?"
"Volumes one through five," Willow replied with a smile.
"Is there anything you can remember that could be of use to us? Anything at all?" Rupert pressed her, leaning forward eagerly.
"Well, I was in a hurry, and what I did read was kind of over-involved. If you ask me, way over-written. Actually, there were a few pages that looked kind of interesting but I didn't have a chance to read them fully."
Wesley wilted at that, leaning back against the wall. Rupert frowned and sighed, shaking his head. However, Wesley straightened when he saw Willow draw something out of a pocket, holding it out to Rupert.
"See what you can make of them?" she said, smiling once again. Rupert grinned hugely, taking the papers and glancing at Wesley. Unable to help himself, even in his current mood, Wesley gave Rupert an encouraging smile. Rupert turned and went to his office, apparently to begin the research. Wesley stared after Rupert, barely hearing the chatter between Buffy and Willow.
"This is your night for suave, Will. You should get captured more often."
"No, thank you."
Wesley glanced back at them, watched them treating this like some victory. Stepping forward, he said, "Well, let's hope there is something useful in those pages. The Mayor has the Box of Gavrock. As of now, we are right back where we started. Wouldn't you say?" He stayed long enough to see the frown cross Buffy's face before he went to see Rupert.
"Rupert? Do you think they'll be of help?" he asked softly as he entered the office. Rupert glanced up at him, smiling widely.
"It's possible. There's a lot here, though." He looked back to the papers and Wesley saw his shoulders move in what Wesley supposed was a sigh. "It's going to take me a while to get through it . . . especially if I'm working alone." Rupert glanced at him, the smile replaced by a serious expression, a question in the tilt of his head.
"For tonight," Wesley answered glancing down. "I'm exhausted," he added with a sigh.
"Go home," Rupert replied with a nod. "Get some sleep."
"No, uh, I'll-I'll be at my flat." Wesley turned, heading for the office door.
"Wesley?" Rupert's voice had him stopping, though he didn't turn back. He couldn't, couldn't bear to look at Rupert again if he wasn't going to be able to touch him, kiss him, be near him. And he couldn't, not when he felt so very useless. If he had nothing to offer here, if his thoughts weren't worth anything, his being here had no point, no purpose. He'd lost Faith and now he'd lost whatever creditability, acceptance, he'd managed to garner from the children with his knowledge. Even Rupert didn't want to hear what he had to say.
"Yes?"
"I . . . I had to support her, Wesley. I don't know how else I can explain it. The Slayer comes first, always, but I . . . I don't want to lose you." Wesley heard Rupert take a step nearer and had to leave, had to go before he threw away all self-respect.
"I'm not lost," he said softly. Forcing himself to leave then was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. His stomach knotted tight. He felt as if he'd just stepped off the edge of cliff. "I'll be at my flat," he said once again, over his shoulder, before leaving the office.
Continued here.
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17 (overall rating)
Part: 14/17
Feedback and concrit adored: lostgirlslair @ yahoo.com
Spoilers: Begins directly after 'Bad Girls', AU from there on out with bits and pieces taken from all over the end of BtVS season three.
Summary: Giles finds Wesley lying, badly beaten, on the library floor.
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither
Big, huge thanks to beadtific, janedavitt, kyrieane, malnpudl, and psychoadept for their beta magic. Thanks to the Buffyverse Dialogue Database for, well, the dialogue. And thank you to everyone who read the first versions of these stories. Your interest and feedback have made this a pleasure to work on.
Previous parts located here.
Wesley looked up from his book for what had to be the fifth time in ten minutes. His eyes met Rupert's over the coffee table, both of them smiling before looking back to their respective texts. Wesley shook his head at himself, though he couldn't seem to make himself stop smiling as he attempted to buckle down to the work at hand.
Right then, there were enough things going bump in the night in Sunnydale to start a really horrid rock band. He and Rupert had been working themselves to exhaustion and still they knew so little. At this point they were taking turns just to give themselves breaks from the same subjects. Today was Rupert's day researching the knife while Wesley attempted to figure out what the Mayor's Ascension would hold for them.
He had managed to exclude one possibility. The Ascension did not include the ritual flaying of the demon Azarath, and, though you never really could tell with demons, Wesley was betting Azarath was fairly glad. Unfortunately, it gave them nothing to work with.
"Azarath is safe," Wesley announced bitterly.
"Damn," Rupert muttered.
"You have something against Azarath?" He looked up to find Rupert staring at two or three pages of their notes.
"Never met him, but . . . I think you and I have been overlooking something."
"Damn. What?" Wesley stood and went to Rupert's side. He rested his chin on Rupert's shoulder and read over the page Rupert was looking at, but he saw nothing he hadn't read a hundred times. Of course, that was what 'overlooking' meant.
"We know that this knife was made by the Tes'ri, the inscription on the tomb was written in Tes'ri, using Vetrian grammar. All the people we've come across from this group are human and they're dedicated. We assumed a cult linked to the demon horde that marauded this area, one devoted to whatever Hellgod commissioned the knife."
"Well, the kind of dedication it takes to commit suicide under such circumstances is usually linked to religious passion," Wesley said with a shrug. "I don't understand what you're getting at."
"You have a note here about a Vetrian group that came to this area some years before the death of the horde leader?
"Yes. There's no record of what they did, but the Vetri are usually not ones for out and out slaughter. They prefer to cause havoc through trickery . . . Oh, good Lord." Wesley rocked back on his heels, considering. "You don't think these humans are disciples of the Vetrian group?"
"They've been known to use humans before," Rupert said, reaching for another book.
"But . . . Why? They've definitely caused quite a lot of havoc and confusion, but they're not chaos worshipers, they still need a reason to do things."
"So do chaos worshipers," Rupert commented off handedly, "they just need less of one than most people would. That, however, is beside the point. I don't know what their reason would be, but considering the Vetrian grammar of the inscription, it makes sense. They've been tangled up in this somehow. Somewhere along the line a Vetri, apparently posing as Tes'ri, wrote that inscription."
Wesley nodded, working through the problem from this new angle. "Well, you're right. It makes more sense this way. We'd been through everything a Tes'ri cult might want, everything from raising their Hellgod to resurrecting the horde leader from his bones and none of it fits. The knife doesn't have that kind of power; it mostly serves as a test, a demon's idea of an oath of fealty, and comes with a built in low-grade curse that only effects the wielder if they're disloyal. It's . . . it's nothing."
"So . . ." Rupert looked at the mounds of books piled around the coffee table and shrugged. "Now we see if we can fit the Vetrian group into this mess."
"I don't know how we would. We're missing something," Wesley sighed, returning to where he'd been sitting. "Why now? Why would they bother? The knife is nothing important in and of itself, why go to this much trouble to get it out of that tomb?"
"Well, uh, what events are happening soon? Anything that might be meaningful?"
"The Ascension if we don't find something," Wesley muttered and then looked at Rupert. "You don't think this could have something to do with Mayor Wilkins, do you?"
Rupert tossed his glasses on the coffee table rubbed at his eyes. "Honestly, I have no idea."
****
Wesley shut his book, glancing over at the office. He needed a break from the translating, from words in general. As much as he normally loved research, at the moment he was contemplating whether or not blowing up the library would be particularly helpful.
"I want to leave Sunnydale," Buffy announced, striding into the library.
Wesley stood, blinking. "I don't understand."
"I want to leave," Buffy said with a shrug, her expression saying without words that Wesley should know what she was talking about.
Wesley opened his mouth, thought for a moment and realized the best he could come up with was, "What? Now?"
"No, not now. After I graduate. You know? College?" Buffy huffed, glancing over to Rupert as he came out of the office doorway.
"Buffy, I know we've talked about your going away--"
"I got into Northwestern," She announced, smiling at Rupert.
He returned it, nodding. "That's wonderful news. Good for you"
"Buffy, that is wonderful news," Wesley agreed. "But there's so much to deal with right now. Faith gone bad, the Mayor's Ascension coming up . . ."
"I know it's complicated," Buffy put in, giving him a pleading look. "I'm aware that my graduation may be, among other things, posthumous, but . . . What if I stop the Ascension? What if I capture Faith?"
"I very much hope you will," Rupert put in with a small sigh.
"If I do that, then all you guys have to do is keep the run of the mill unholy forces at bay through mid-terms and I'll be back in time for Homecoming. And every school break after that. Can we at least think about it?"
"Perhaps," Wesley allowed. "If circumstances were different . . ."
"I'll make them different," Buffy insisted, her posture straightening and a look of determination on her face. "I'm tired of waiting for Mayor McSleaze to make his move while we sit on our hands counting down to Ascension Day. I mean, let's take the fight to him."
"No. No!" Wesley jumped in at once. "Much too reckless. We're at a distinct disadvantage. We don't know anything about the Mayor's Ascension." He glanced to Rupert for support, but Rupert shook his head.
"She's right." Wesley felt his jaw drop at Rupert's words. "Time's running out. We need to take the offensive." He turned to Buffy and Wesley followed his gaze, still in shock that Rupert had agreed to this insanity. "What's your plan?"
"I gotta have a plan? Really? I can't just be proactive with pep?"
"No. You want to take the fight to them? I suggest the first step would be to find out exactly what they're up to."
"Oh. I actually knew that. I thought you meant a more specific plan, you know, like with maps and stuff. Great. We'll find out what they're up to."
Wesley stared at them both, wondering when they'd both completely lost their minds. Buffy bounced out of the library and Rupert turned back to him.
"How could you encourage such recklessness?" Wesley sank down onto the library table, blinking rapidly at Rupert. "She's going to get herself killed!"
"Wesley . . . She's right. We've been through everything we can find with even the smallest reference to Ascension and we've got nothing." Rupert paced the floor in front of Wesley, his agitation obvious.
"I know you're frustrated, Rupert, as am I, but this is a dangerous move."
Rupert turned to him, sighing as he stepped forward and laid his forehead against Wesley's. Seeking comfort as well as offering it. "We've got nothing. If we're going to stop this, we need more."
"Even if that means putting Buffy at risk?" Wesley asked, though the fight had gone out of him. Despite himself, he was seeing Rupert's point.
"Buffy is always at risk. She's just going to do some recon, basic tactics when all other means of information gathering are out." Rupert shrugged, stepping away a little. "We have to do something. You and I are killing ourselves to find a single scrap of information. We're not going to be able find out in time. We need more."
Wesley sighed, and nodded. "You're right. We need more information. I just don't want to do anything rash."
Rupert smiled at that, reaching out to brush his fingers along Wesley's cheek. "I know. Neither do I. We'll see what Buffy finds out and what she wants to do next."
Wesley nodded, glancing back at his books and trying to inject a note of humor into his voice when he said, "Does this mean I can take a small break to realign my eyeballs and, perhaps, straighten my back?"
Rupert raised his eyebrows at that, smiling crookedly.
"Stop that, Rupert." Wesley rolled his eyes fondly, smiling as he stretched. "I was actually hoping for a little exercise."
Rupert said nothing, only tilting his head and smiling again.
"You, my love, have a dirty mind," Wesley grumbled. "So what will we be crossing? Staves or swords?"
"You're doing that on purpose!" Rupert accused with a laugh, following Wesley to the book cage.
"It's certainly not my fault if you can't get your mind off of me," Wesley shrugged, pulling two fencing foils from the weapons cabinet and tossing one to Rupert.
"You do realize that I'm going to thoroughly trounce you?" Rupert's smile turned smug as he backed out into the library. Wesley would have to make sure he never let Rupert know how much he liked that swaggering attitude. Rupert was dangerously attractive as it was.
"Probably," Wesley allowed. "Hand to hand weapons were never my best. I'm much better with ranged weapons." Wesley began a sequence of blows, mostly just to get a look at what he was up against, and realized Rupert wasn’t just being arrogant.
****
After parking Oz's van, Wesley found himself glowering at City Hall, already tense enough to scream. The 'plan' had been far too hasty, with no time for real consideration, or even observation of the target. Wesley clenched his teeth, glaring at Rupert and his offer of tea.
"I can't believe you backed them on this. Rupert, one more day of planning would not have hurt anything." Rupert handed him a cup of tea anyway and Wesley took it, sighing as he stared at it.
"Wesley," Rupert sighed, shaking his head. "I had no choice. Supporting her decisions is imperative and she wasn't going to be dissuaded. She can take care of herself and Angel will see to Willow. They'll be fine."
Wesley wasn't sure who that last bit was intended to reassure. He stared at City Hall and shook his head. "We have no control over any of this," he finally said, his eyes flicking down to his tea.
"No," Rupert agreed softly. "It's all up to her, Wesley. That's exactly why she has to rely on her own judgment."
"And what if she's wrong? We all die because she makes a miscalculation? No, Rupert, don't answer that." Wesley already knew the answer to that question. Frighteningly, he also realized why the Council had become what it was. It was an attempt to feel as if they had some say in, some control over their own lives. They could all fight with everything in them and it would always come down to 'one girl in all the world.' That was hardly fair, to any of them, including Buffy.
Rupert's hand slid into his and Wesley sighed, squeezing slightly.
"Scary thought, isn't it?" Rupert's voice was hushed, as if they were sharing a secret and Wesley supposed they were, in more ways than one.
"Terrifying. Uh, not-not because I don't believe Buffy's good enough or smart enough, but . . . she's human. Mistakes happen all the time. No one person's judgment will ever be completely without flaw. We fight, day after day, take duty onto our shoulders, just as Buffy does, and it all comes down to her. God, I feel so sorry for her. And for us." He saw Rupert nod out of the corner of his eye and turned to face him. "That's what you were trying to tell me, wasn't it? About Faith?"
Rupert shrugged, suddenly looking far more tired than was usual. "In a way, though I don't think I managed to put it as eloquently as you just did. I once told Buffy she was lucky to have purpose in life. She said, 'can't I just have a life?' She's managed both, as much as is possible. It's their choices. Always their choices. The rest of us can only support them and hope to teach them . . . I don't know, teach them whatever Slayers need to know. The trouble is, I think, figuring out what that is."
Wesley snorted, nodding. He leaned in and kissed Rupert's temple and then turned back to watch the entrance to City Hall. They sat in silence, both of them sipping their tea, waiting. Both of them grew more and more tense as time passed and Willow had still not returned. Rupert shifted in his seat. "Willow should have come back by now."
"She might have stayed with Buffy and Angel. There could have easily been further wards that needed her attention once they were inside." Wesley purposely did not point out that that was exactly why further observation before starting this would have been helpful.
"You're right." Rupert still didn't sound particularly happy. Just then there was a commotion at the front of the building. "That, I think, is our cue."
Wesley nodded, starting the van and pressing hard on the gas. The tires squealed as he drove past the front of the building. To his surprise, Rupert leaned out the van's window, shouting at the vampires. Wesley reached over and grabbed the man's belt, trying to tug him back inside.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked, trying to split his attention between Rupert and the road ahead of them.
"Getting their attention," Rupert called, laughing.
"You're insane," Wesley shouted, but he was laughing too, finding it almost impossible not to when Rupert was insulting the vampire's lineage in Cantonese. When their pursuers fell behind, Rupert slid back inside, still chuckling under his breath.
"And I thought you'd keep the children from doing anything rash," Wesley muttered, though he was still smiling and gave Rupert a fond glance.
"Wherever would you get that idea?" Rupert shook his head, nodding toward the next street. "We should get back to the library and destroy that damn box."
Wesley snorted and pointed the van in the school's direction, anxious to get this all over with. Shortly after, he and Rupert entered the library to find a ring of worried faces.
"Willow's not with you?" Xander asked as soon as they entered, hopping down from the library table and taking a step toward them.
"No," Wesley needed only to glance at Rupert's face to see the dawning horror.
"How did you guys let . . ." Buffy began and then let her words trail, sighing and clearly trying to collect herself. "How did this happen?
"We thought she stayed with you," Rupert explained. Wesley stepped nearer to Rupert, wanting to offer comfort, but having none to give. If Mayor Wilkins and his people did have Willow . . . This was going to be bad.
"They must have grabbed her when she hit the ground," Angel said. "Buffy, I'm sorry."
"Look, it's nobody's fault, okay." Buffy's voice was the sound of stress itself, as tense as her body as she paced. "We just need to focus and deal. Oz, I swear I won't let them hurt her."
"We go back," Xander suggested. "Full-on assault."
"They'll kill her," Rupert said in a voice that might have seemed calm if Wesley hadn't known him so well. The sound made his throat tight, made it even harder for him say what he was thinking, though he knew he had to.
"We're assuming they haven't already," he kept his voice quiet, trying to control his frustration and worry. He wanted to step closer to Rupert, to touch his lover and soothe him with false promises that Willow would walk through the door at any moment. He wished he could, could offer something other than the hateful words he'd just spoken.
"No." Buffy contradicted. "No, they know what she means to us. She's too valuable as long as we still have the box." Wesley let out the breath he'd been holding, nodding. She was right. Willow was alive for the moment. They just had to find a way to keep her that way until they'd destroyed the box and formulated a plan to get her back. Buffy's next words made Wesley's stomach drop. "We trade."
"We can't," Wesley spit out automatically, forgetting to guard his tone.
"No, it's the safest plan." Buffy said, looking to Rupert for support. "It's the only way, right?"
"It might well be." The reluctance in those words made Wesley want to wince in sympathy, but he had to stand his ground. They were talking about the lives of thousands of people and someone had to remind them of that. If Rupert couldn't, Wesley would.
"Look, we call the Mayor and arrange a meeting," Buffy began, but Wesley stepped forward, shaking his head.
"This box must be destroyed." He worked to keep himself calm this time, trying to hold back his fear. There would be time enough for that later. Now, he had to get Buffy and the others to listen, whether they wanted to or not.
"I need a volunteer to hit Wesley," Xander said, glaring at him hard.
"Rupert, you know I'm right about this," he said, looking for back up in the face of the palpable anger in the room. He realized no one wanted to hear this, no one wanted to consider it, but someone had to make them listen.
"Wes, you want to duck and cover at this point?" Buffy stepped toward him, her jaw clenched tight and her posture rigid. Wesley faced her, desperate to get her to understand. His frustration got the better of him.
"Damn it, you listen to me! This box is the key to the Mayor's Ascension. Thousands of lives depend on our getting rid of it. Now I want to help Willow as much as the rest of you, but we will find another way." He wanted her to know that he wanted to rescue Willow as much as they did. He didn't want her hurt, or dead any more than he wanted the sun to fail to rise, but there were other things at risk, so many people who didn't know the risks. He knew that attitude probably made him seem cold, but he hardly cared at the moment, except that it made the others less likely to listen.
"There is no other way," Buffy insisted.
"You're the one who said take the fight to the Mayor." Frantic, Wesley searched for anything he could use, any leverage that might make Buffy stop and think here. They had the means to stop the Mayor in their grasps. "You were right. This is the town's best hope of survival. It's your chance to get out."
He knew those were the wrong words as soon as they spilled from his lips. From the corner of his eye, Wesley saw Rupert cringe.
"You think I care about that? Are you made of human parts?" Buffy stared at him in disgust and Wesley had to hold himself from flinching. It didn't matter what she thought of him, if he could get her to listen. It didn't look as if that were going to happen, but that didn't mean he didn't have to try.
"All right!" Rupert snapped, drawing all eyes. "Let's deal with this rationally."
"Why are you taking his side?" Buffy asked, incredulity heavy in her voice. "Just because you two are--"
Rupert and Wesley both jumped in before she could finish that sentence and soon all three of them were shouting, trying to be heard. Wesley raised his voice just as Buffy and Rupert both went quiet.
"You'd sacrifice thousands of lives?" He asked. "Your families, your friends? It can all end right here. We have the means to destroy this box."
There was a crash from behind him and Wesley spun around. His eyes found the pot they'd needed to destroy the box in shards upon the floor. He looked to Oz, who stood there, silent, meeting his gaze. They stared at one another for a moment and Wesley heard Buffy say, "Giles, make the phone call."
Wesley turned, watching Rupert head to his office before he looked back the others. Xander was still giving him that glare, as if he were trying to set Wesley aflame using just the power of his anger. Wesley ignored it, looking to Buffy. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a hand, shaking her head. "Don't Wesley. Really, you've said enough."
Wesley sighed, closing his eyes as he slumped into one of the chairs. Removing his glasses, he tossed them onto the library table and rested his head in his hands. Except for the murmur of Rupert's voice from the office, no one spoke.
He heard Rupert's familiar footsteps come from the office. Rupert stopped beside him, laying a hand on Wesley's shoulder, but addressing everyone when he said, "He'll trade. In the cafeteria, in an hour's time."
"Than we'd better get to work," Buffy commented. Wesley listened to the others footsteps, waiting until the room fell silent again to look up at Rupert.
"You know I'm right," he said softly, seeing Rupert flinch. Pushing his chair back, Wesley rose, straightening his suit.
"Wesley, it's--"
"Later. We'll talk later." Wesley said, unsure that he could keep himself calm if he and Rupert had this discussion now. "Apparently, we have a trade to make."
Wesley glanced over, finding the box gone, and went to join the others in the cafeteria. He heard Rupert sigh behind him and then heard him following. In truth, Wesley also wasn't sure what there was to say between the two of them. Three times in a single day, he'd been shut out, his opinions and thoughts cast aside without even being given a moment's consideration. Rupert had already made his position on that clear and, to some degree, Wesley understood that it came down to what Buffy chose. That didn't mean Rupert couldn't at least do him the courtesy of listening.
Once in the cafeteria, he found the others working to block the windows and all the doors save the front entrance. He understood the strategy behind it, but it made him shiver. Being locked inside this room was not his idea of a fun evening, not that he had any hopes that this would be anything resembling fun.
No one asked his help, but Wesley joined in anyway. He didn't agree with this plan. He thought it was a disastrous decision, but it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.
Several times, he caught Rupert watching him as they prepared for the Mayor's visit. Each time he glanced away quickly, trying to keep his composure. He was angry, hurt, but he didn't know what to say and he didn't think that was going to resolve itself soon. Finally, they were finished. Oz and Xander tested each of the doors.
"The whole place is locked down, except for the front," Oz pronounced.
"Yeah, it gives me that comforting trapped feeling," Xander said and, for once, Wesley couldn't have agreed with him more.
"One way out means one way in. I want to see them coming." Even as Buffy finished the words, the lights switched off, throwing them in near darkness.
Wesley sucked in a breath, his heart beat picking up to a rapid pace, adrenaline flooding his system. Suddenly, the uneasiness in his gut tripled, leaving him jittery and finding it hard to breath. Rupert's hand landed on his back and, despite his current feelings, Wesley felt himself calm a bit, felt his body react to Rupert's nearness and the heat that soaked through Wesley clothing and into his skin.
The doors were thrown open by two vampires in game face, who held them as Mayor Wilkins entered. Wesley eyes slipped from him to Faith, who followed, hustling their hostage before her. Faith held a knife to Willow's throat, seeming so calm that Wesley felt bile rise.
The Mayor advanced nearly to the center of the room, Buffy stepping up to face off with him. "Well, this is exciting, isn't it?" He chuckled, voice so cheerful Wesley felt a sudden urge to take Rupert's bat and see just how far Wilkins' invulnerability extended. "Clandestine meetings by dark of night. Exchange of prisoners. I just, I feel like we should all be wearing trench coats.
"Let her go," Buffy said, cutting right to the point.
"No," The Mayor countered. "Not until the box is in my hands. So you're the little girl that's been causing me all this trouble. She's pretty, Angel. A little skinny. Still don't understand why it couldn't work out with you and my Faith. Guess you kind of just have strange taste in women."
"Well, what can I say? I like them sane." Wesley sighed as Angel said those words, his eyes skipping to Willow as she made a pained sound. Faith tightened her grip around Willow.
"Angel," Oz said in a warning tone.
"Well, I wish you kids the best, I really do. But if you don't mind a bit of fatherly advice, I, uh, I just don't see much of a future for you two." Wesley tuned out the Mayor's words, his eyes focusing on Faith, wondering if he could get through to her, even though he knew it was foolish to even consider. She'd used him to find ways to make herself better and then betrayed him. Not that she hadn't betrayed them all, but Wesley had truly believed they'd been getting somewhere.
Faith looked up, as if sensing his gaze on her. She met his eyes and some strange expression crossed her face. She opened her mouth, as if to say something though he knew that couldn't be her intention. Then she looked away, focusing her eyes on Mayor Wilkins, her expression hardening.
Wesley closed his eyes for a moment, but snapped them open when he heard the Mayor say, "Make the trade."
Angel and Faith approached one another cautiously. Wesley kept his eyes on Faith, watching her body for even the slightest sign that she was going to make an unexpected move. He stared so hard he thought he must be burning holes in her skin. They traded, Willow going to Oz at once and Faith retreated with the box.
"Well, that went smooth," The Mayor said with a vicious little smile. The front doors opened again and Wesley's eyes flew to them, expecting more vampires or demons. Something, some trick on the Mayor's part that would turn this into a slaughter.
What he saw instead was Principal Snyder and two uniformed police officers.
"Nobody moves!" Snyder shouted, glowering at them all. Wesley's eyes flicked to the Mayor, who stepped back into a darker part of the room. One of the policemen locked the front door and Wesley felt his throat begin to close up. Rupert was still beside him, but the man's hand was gone, both of them firm on the baseball bat Rupert had felt the need to grab. Wesley wished he'd have thought to find a crossbow.
"I knew you kids were up to something," Snyder was saying. When Buffy tired to tell him to leave, he glared at her. "You're not giving orders, young lady. I suppose you're going to tell me I won't find drugs in this box." Snyder grabbed the box out of Faith's arms and Wesley's eyes went wide as Faith pulled her knife.
"Wait!" Buffy snapped at Faith. Wesley wasn't sure Faith would, for a heartbeat. He thought she'd actually stab Snyder right then and there.
"Principal Snyder," Mayor Wilkins said, stepping out of the dark part of the room. Snyder turned at the sound of Mayor's voice and Wesley watched his eyes grow wide as he saw Faith's knife, bared and ready to strike. Wesley eyes focused on the knife as well and he sucked in a breath. Whatever words were spoken then became background noise as he squinted in the darkness, trying to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.
"Rupert," he whispered softly. Rupert leaned toward him, though, like Wesley, he never really took his eyes off of what was happening. The difference was that Wesley's eyes were still on the knife. "Rupert, that's the knife. Faith has the knife from the tomb."
"No! Don't do that!" the Mayor shouted and Wesley eyes snapped to him and then to where he was looking. One of the policemen had opened the box and then dropped it as something spider-like leapt out. It attached itself to his face and the man began to scream, the sound filling the cafeteria. He reached up, tried to pry it away and all Wesley could do was watch as he collapsed to the floor, ceasing all movement and sound a moment later.
The spider skittered away into the shadows and Wesley began looking for it, shifting around between the chairs and tables. "Oh God," he breathed.
"Where did it go?" Xander was not the only to ask that question, but he was the one Wesley heard. They were all shifting about, eyes trying to penetrate the shadows.
Snyder shouted, "Get that door open!"
And Wesley heard Rupert shout, "No! You can't let that thing out of here!"
Glancing over to the policemen, Wesley saw that the man hadn't listened to Rupert and was already fumbling with his keys. Wesley couldn't take his eyes off the shadows for long, however, and so heard rather than saw the keys drop to the floor.
"I still want to know where it went," Xander said and, for the second time in one night, Wesley found himself in total agreement.
"Listen," Buffy said softly, but everyone quieted, suddenly listening hard.
There were skittering sounds, so low Wesley couldn't identify their location at first. A strange, soft keening sound brought his, and most everyone else's, attention to the ceiling. Wesley heard the Mayor shout and his eyes snapped to the man.
Faith shouted, "Boss," and ran to help him. She ripped the spider free, throwing it against the wall. Wesley's eyes followed it as it hit, flipped itself upside right again, and skittered out of sight. Swallowing hard, Wesley reached for the chair beside him, glad to find Rupert doing the same. He stepped up onto the table, trying to get a high enough vantage point to spot the thing.
The sound of something slamming caught his attention. Wesley's eyes whipped to the box, which Buffy had just closed. His sigh of relief was premature. One of the creatures dropped onto her back. Buffy flipped over, crushing it on the floor. Biting his lips, Wesley began to look around for the last one. His eyes caught on Faith, who was staring at him. He watched in horror as her arm drew back, knife held for a throw.
"No!" He shouted, ducking down and covering his head as the she let go of the knife. He heard it hum through the air above his head, heard it thunk into the wall behind him. He stood, turning slowly, blinking at the carcass of one of the creatures from the box, pinned to the wall by Faith's knife, their knife, the knife from the tomb. He stared at it for a long moment before looking back to Faith. The Mayor had the box in his arms, looking far too damn happy for Wesley's peace of mind.
"Is that all of them?" Oz's asked.
"Ah, not really. You see, there's about fifty . . . billion of these happy little critters in here. Would you like to see?" There was a rattle of keys and Wesley looked toward it, watching as the policeman finally got the door open and raced from the room, followed quickly by the two vampires that had come with Mayor Wilkins.
"Faith, let's go." The Mayor's voice recalled Wesley to his thoughts and Wesley turned to Faith, finding her watching him. Their eyes met and he saw a look of uncertainty cross her face.
"Faith," both he and the Mayor said together. Faith remained still for a moment, then turned and left.
Wesley deflated, any energy he'd had remaining draining away as he climbed down from the table. Rupert's hand brushed his arm and he looked over to his lover, finding a sad, sympathetic look in Rupert's eyes. Wesley ducked his head, but pressed his shoulder to Rupert's, silently thanking him.
"Well," he said, "that went swimmingly."
"We did alright," Buffy replied and then went to where Wesley had been standing. She climbed up onto one of the chairs and pulled the knife from the wall. She stared it for a moment, turning it over in her hand before she turned to Rupert. "This is the knife from the tomb! How the hell did Faith get a hold of it?"
"Wesley noted that," Rupert replied, shaking his head. "I can't imagine that it was the Mayor's people who attacked us. It doesn't seem his style, but . . . I don't know."
Buffy sighed, motioning with the knife toward the doors. Wesley followed the others, wanting to hear from Willow what had happened. Perhaps they could divine some much needed information from something that had been said in her presence. They had no other options now.
When they reached the library, Buffy put the knife in Rupert's office. Willow and Oz spent a moment together, which Wesley did his best to ignore. In fact, he stayed at the back of the group, letting the others give Willow hugs and exchange fast paced babble about the evening. He was the only one not granted a moment of her time, but he understood that. She'd likely be angry when she'd heard what he'd said, but as much as Wesley disliked that thought, he knew he'd been right. They should have found another way, a way to get Willow back without giving up the box, a way to destroy the box after exchanging it for Willow. If Buffy had only listened to him for a moment, he was certain they could have come up with something.
Eventually Oz, Xander, Cordelia and Angel left and it was only Buffy, Willow, Rupert and himself. Wesley kept his distance, unsure how to feel or what to say. Willow told them about her 'adventure'. When she mentioned the books of Ascension, both he and Rupert perked up, but she kept going, telling Buffy about her encounter with Faith.
"This is fascinating," Rupert put in, "but let's get back to the point. You actually had your hands on the Books of Ascension?"
"Volumes one through five," Willow replied with a smile.
"Is there anything you can remember that could be of use to us? Anything at all?" Rupert pressed her, leaning forward eagerly.
"Well, I was in a hurry, and what I did read was kind of over-involved. If you ask me, way over-written. Actually, there were a few pages that looked kind of interesting but I didn't have a chance to read them fully."
Wesley wilted at that, leaning back against the wall. Rupert frowned and sighed, shaking his head. However, Wesley straightened when he saw Willow draw something out of a pocket, holding it out to Rupert.
"See what you can make of them?" she said, smiling once again. Rupert grinned hugely, taking the papers and glancing at Wesley. Unable to help himself, even in his current mood, Wesley gave Rupert an encouraging smile. Rupert turned and went to his office, apparently to begin the research. Wesley stared after Rupert, barely hearing the chatter between Buffy and Willow.
"This is your night for suave, Will. You should get captured more often."
"No, thank you."
Wesley glanced back at them, watched them treating this like some victory. Stepping forward, he said, "Well, let's hope there is something useful in those pages. The Mayor has the Box of Gavrock. As of now, we are right back where we started. Wouldn't you say?" He stayed long enough to see the frown cross Buffy's face before he went to see Rupert.
"Rupert? Do you think they'll be of help?" he asked softly as he entered the office. Rupert glanced up at him, smiling widely.
"It's possible. There's a lot here, though." He looked back to the papers and Wesley saw his shoulders move in what Wesley supposed was a sigh. "It's going to take me a while to get through it . . . especially if I'm working alone." Rupert glanced at him, the smile replaced by a serious expression, a question in the tilt of his head.
"For tonight," Wesley answered glancing down. "I'm exhausted," he added with a sigh.
"Go home," Rupert replied with a nod. "Get some sleep."
"No, uh, I'll-I'll be at my flat." Wesley turned, heading for the office door.
"Wesley?" Rupert's voice had him stopping, though he didn't turn back. He couldn't, couldn't bear to look at Rupert again if he wasn't going to be able to touch him, kiss him, be near him. And he couldn't, not when he felt so very useless. If he had nothing to offer here, if his thoughts weren't worth anything, his being here had no point, no purpose. He'd lost Faith and now he'd lost whatever creditability, acceptance, he'd managed to garner from the children with his knowledge. Even Rupert didn't want to hear what he had to say.
"Yes?"
"I . . . I had to support her, Wesley. I don't know how else I can explain it. The Slayer comes first, always, but I . . . I don't want to lose you." Wesley heard Rupert take a step nearer and had to leave, had to go before he threw away all self-respect.
"I'm not lost," he said softly. Forcing himself to leave then was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. His stomach knotted tight. He felt as if he'd just stepped off the edge of cliff. "I'll be at my flat," he said once again, over his shoulder, before leaving the office.
Continued here.