Fic: The Fire of Thine Eyes, Giles/Wesley 16/17
Title: The Fire of Thine Eyes (Warmth & Heat Redux)
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17 (overall rating)
Part: 16/17
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.
"Faith," Buffy said on a sigh. Wesley glanced at her, quickly pushing down the thoughts that all came tangled with Faith's name.
"You're sure?" he asked, taking his foil in both hands as he waited.
"One of her pieces," Buffy confirmed, nodding. "I recognize the brush work."
Wesley tapped his foil against the floor to get Rupert's attention. Rupert glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. Wesley smiled and raised his foil, making several quick, light strikes as Rupert read from the paper Buffy had handed him.
"Brutally stabbed. Mr. Wirth," Rupert read aloud. Wesley blinked as Rupert parried the first two of his strikes without actually looking away from the page. "A visiting professor of geology." Wesley moved in again, but Rupert parried and gave him a smug glance. "There's nothing in here that bellows motive."
"Random killing, perhaps?" Wesley suggested, remembering how quick Faith had been to draw that knife on Snyder. "Fit of rage?" Wesley went moved forward again, striking low only to have Rupert parry. "Everybody does seem to be going a bit mad, lately. Faith has something of a head start." The last had something of a bitter edge to it, Wesley knew.
"Doesn't read. I think it's homework," Buffy said. Rupert handed the paper back to her and signaled the end of the sparring session with his foil.
"The Mayor wanted the good professor out of the way," Rupert said, thoughtful.
"Which leads to the question, how come? I'm gonna destroy the entire city, but I take the time to kill harmless Lester first?" Buffy's expression told how much she believed that. Wesley snorted, shaking his head. It didn't make sense, unless--
"Tying up loose ends?" Rupert said, turning to lay his foil on the library table. "Lester had something or knew something."
"Then I wanna know too. The Mayor's trying to hide. I say we go seek."
"Yes," Wesley agreed, setting aside his own foil and sitting on the edge of the library table, next to Rupert. "You will go tonight. Look over his apartment. Anything of note, report back here."
"I just love it when you take charge, you man, you," Buffy groused, though she didn't look particularly comfortable with the smile that comment drew from Rupert.
"Uh . . . was that a yes?" Wesley asked, leaning against Rupert just to watch Buffy's nose scrunch. "I have trouble keeping track."
"I'll go," Buffy clarified, "but if I come back and find you two making out in the office, like Cordelia did, I'm gonna yak all over my new shoes."
"Be careful." Rupert put in wearily, shaking his head. "If Faith should show up . . ."
"I don't think she'll show." Buffy leaned in the doorway, her tone more serious now. "Been there, killed that. She's not much for follow-up."
"Nonetheless," Rupert put in. "Keep watch. Faith has you at a disadvantage, Buffy."
"'Cause I'm not crazy or 'cause I don't kill people?" Buffy asked with a sigh, crossing her arms.
"Both, actually," Rupert supplied with a grimace.
"I hear you. I can't kill her, fun as it may sound. I can make her cry uncle, though, and I mean to." Buffy gave a determined look and Wesley sighed.
"Don't let your feelings about Faith interfere with your work." He thought it was good advice, especially given how much trouble he sometimes had doing the same.
"Stopping Faith is my work. Take a beat to love the synergy."
"Faith is a footnote," Wesley contradicted, straightening and giving Buffy a serious look. "Our priority is stopping the Ascension."
Xander entered the library then, pulling a vaguely familiar young woman by the arm. It took Wesley a moment to place her, but he remembered seeing her at the Bronze the night the vampire version of Willow had come to Sunnydale.
"Easier said than done, monarchy boy." Xander said, making Rupert and he both roll their eyes, sharing a glance.
"Xander," Wesley said, "if you don't have something constructive to add . . ."
"You guys want to know about the Ascension?" Xander motioned to the girl beside him. "Well meet the only living person who's ever been to one."
Wesley and Rupert shared another glance. Rupert stood and pulled out one of the chairs around the library table, motioning the girl into it. "Have a seat, Anyanka."
"Anya," she corrected, slumping into the chair, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere else at the moment.
"Tell us about the Ascension," Wesley said, wanting to get whatever information they could before she decided to bolt. Fear was evident in her every movement and that certainly didn't bode at all well.
"About eight hundred years ago in the Kastka Valleys above the Urals, there was a sorcerer there who achieved Ascension. Became the embodiment of the demon Lo-Hash. I was there cursing a shepherd who had been unfaithful." Anya's voice grew more cheerful as she continued. "His wife had wished that all his sheep would lie with--"
"Can we cut back to the chase?" Buffy interrupted.
"Sorry." Anya shrugged. "Lo-Hash was . . . It-it decimated the village within hours. Maybe three people got out. I've seen some horrible things in my time. I've been the cause of most of them, actually, but this . . ."
Wesley cleared his throat, trying to fit this into what he knew. "I'm sorry," he said, "but Lo-Hash was a four-winged soul killer, am I right?" He looked to Rupert, who nodded confirmation. "I was given to understand that they're not that fierce. Of all the demons that we've faced . . ." he shrugged.
"You've never seen a demon," Anya contradicted.
"Uh, excuse me?" Buffy raised her hand. "Killing them professionally, four years running."
Anya leaned forward, putting her hands on the table and shaking her head. "All the demons that walk the earth are tainted, are human hybrids like vampires. The Ascension means that a human becomes pure demon. They're different."
"Different?" He and Rupert said together.
"How?" Buffy asked.
Wesley didn't at all like the way Anya paused, the way she hunched in on herself as she shrugged. "Well, for one thing, they're bigger." There was something in the way she said it, something that made Wesley shiver and move just a bit closer to Rupert. It wasn't fear, exactly, because she'd been exuding that since Xander dragged her into the library. Letting out a slow breath to calm himself, Wesley broke the silence.
"Would you be willing to look over the information we've gathered? Perhaps you'll spot something we didn't know to look for." He glanced to the others and saw Rupert and Buffy both nod.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," Anya said.
Wesley went to get his and Rupert's notes. Digging through the paperwork, he uncovered his volume of Dryden's poetry. Putting the other papers aside, he picked it up, running a hand over the cover. He'd left it at Rupert's flat when the Council came to town and it had been there since. He hadn't much thought about it, there had been other things on his mind. Why Rupert had brought it here, he didn't know. After all, Wesley had left several things at Rupert's flat after . . . when they'd not been speaking, and none of the others were here.
"Wesley?" Rupert's voice startled him and Wesley jumped a little, turning around to face Rupert.
"What?" he asked, ducking his head upon seeing the fond smile on Rupert's lips.
"I was wondering what was taking so long," Rupert replied, amusement thick in his tone. Then Rupert's eyes slid down to the book in Wesley's hands. His face growing more serious, Rupert moved to stand before Wesley and ran his fingers over the book's cover. "I was reading it," he said softly, something in his tone setting off a cascade of warmth in Wesley's stomach.
"Oh," Wesley said, glancing back to the book. "Feel free to finish." He made to hand the book to Rupert, but the man shook his head, meeting Wesley's eyes.
"I don't need it anymore." Wesley wasn't sure why those words made his chest tighten. Rupert was looking at him in a way he'd never seen before.
"Oh . . . all right." Smiling shyly, Wesley put the book back on the desk. He looked back to Rupert when he felt the man's fingers on his arm.
"Okay, you two," Buffy's voice reached them from just outside the office, her tone such that Wesley thought she might have found something particularly disgusting on the bottom of her shoe. "I'm coming in there and if you two are . . . I meant what I said earlier."
Rupert laughed softly, shaking his head even as he and Wesley stepped apart. Wesley had to clamp down on the urge to kiss Rupert just so Buffy could walk in on it. That would be petty, he told himself as he moved to get the notes he'd come in for in the first place. Buffy gave them a relieved look as she entered, holding out her hands for some of the notes. Wesley handed them over, giving a few to Rupert and then leading the way back into the library.
Laying it all out before Anya, Wesley took a seat. There was quiet in the library as Anya paged through the notes, all of them watching her, waiting.
"It doesn't sound like Lo-Hash," she finally said. "The rituals are all different."
"I wish that were a relief," Rupert muttered, Wesley nodding his agreement. There were thousands of other demons it could be and if what Anya said was true, and he rather thought it was, this could be even worse than they'd originally thought.
"What's going on?" Oz asked as he and Willow came through the library doors.
"And how come evil girl's in the mix?" Willow gave Anya a glare.
"Anya witnessed an Ascension," Rupert explained.
"Oh, that's okay then," Willow said in a tone unique to her. It made Wesley smile slightly.
"What about the spiders?" Buffy said to Anya, turning them all back to the subject at hand. "The Mayor had a box of spiders that he had to eat. The Box of . . . I want to say Grav-Locks?"
"Gavrock," he and Rupert corrected together.
"It doesn't ring a bell," Anya said with a shrug. She wanted to be here less and less as time passed, Wesley could see it in the way she held herself, hear it in the tone of her voice as she answered questions. Given what she must have seen . . . he could hardly blame her.
"Well, there must be something that you can remember that would be helpful," Buffy prodded. Wesley looked to the doors at the sound of their opening, blinking as Mayor Wilkins' walked inside as if he owned the place. Automatically, Wesley moved to Rupert's side, the others moving farther back.
"So, this is the inner sanctum," the Mayor said, looking about. "Faith tells me this is where you folks like to hang out, concoct your little schemes. I tell you, it's just nice to see that some young people are still interested in reading in this modern era. So, what are kids reading nowadays?"
He strode to the table and the others backed up a bit. Rupert held his ground, as did Wesley, remaining at his lover's side. Mayor Wilkins picked up one of their research texts, looking over it.
"'The beast will walk upon the earth and darkness will follow,'" he read aloud. "'The several races of man will be as one in their terror and destruction.' Aw, that's kind of sweet. Different races coming together."
"You never get even a little tired of hearing yourself speak, do you?" Buffy asked, her tone trying for bored. There was too much tension in it to pull that off.
"That's one spunky little girl you've raised," the Mayor said with a chuckle, looking to Rupert. "I'm gonna eat her."
Wesley barely followed what happened next. He saw Rupert begin to move, but was unsure why. He saw the flash of one of the fencing foils and then Mayor Wilkins was staggering backward, the foil sticking out of his chest. Wesley swallowed, looking from Rupert to the Mayor and back again. The quiet rage on Rupert's face would have been chilling had it been directed at him.
"Whoa!" The Mayor shook his head. "Well now, that was a little thoughtless." He pulled the foil from his chest as if it were a splinter. "Violent outbursts like that, in front of the children? You know, Mr. Giles, they look to you to see how to behave."
Nobody moved. For a heartbeat or two, there was utter silence. Buffy broke it with a succinct, "Get out."
Mayor Wilkins took a handkerchief from his pocket, slowly wiping his blood from the foil. "I smell fear," he said, eyes scanning the room. "That's smart. Some of your deaths will be quick, if that's worth anything. Well, see you all at graduation." He tossed the foil back to Rupert, who caught it easily. "You don't want to miss my commencement address," he said as he turned to leave. "It's going to be one heck of a speech."
They were all motionless for a long moment after the Mayor's departure. Anya stood and ran from the library, Xander sighing and going after her. There was shuffling as they turned to look at one another, all expressions rather worried.
"This changes nothing," Wesley said, forcing himself to sound confident. "We still have research to do, things to take care of before graduation."
Buffy nodded, "Yeah. Uh, I've got to go talk to my mom. I'll check out that place tonight and let you guys know what I find." Gathering her books, Buffy nodded at Rupert's warning to be careful and left.
Willow stood next. "I'll go back to the magical investigations. I don't know if I've got anything that will help, though."
"Keep looking," Rupert said with a sigh. "We can't stop now."
"Yeah. I'll get back on the computer," Oz agreed, holding out his hand to Willow. The two of them left and it was Rupert and himself again. Sharing a look, they both hit the books with renewed vigor.
After a few moments, Wesley looked up at Rupert, biting his lips as he thought. Finally, he said, "That man makes me a bit crazed as well."
Rupert looked up at him and opened his mouth to speak, then shrugged. "I shouldn't have done that. It could have . . . it could have ended badly."
Wesley nodded, reaching out to lay his hand on Rupert's. "It's understandable, though."
Rupert sighed, looking at Wesley's hand on top of his. "I'm glad you think so," he said softly. Their eyes met for a moment and then both went back to researching. Hours passed, though Wesley was only vaguely aware of it. He and Rupert took turns fetching the coffee, their day measured out in Styrofoam cups.
When Wesley's eyes began to blur to the point where he couldn't read through it, he stretched and closed his book. Exhaustion had crept up on him and found himself feeling jittery from the caffeine, but still likely to nod off if he let his head lie still long enough.
"I've got nothing," he muttered, pushing the books away. He set his glasses one the table and rubbed at his eyes, looking up when he felt Rupert's hand on his shoulder.
"Perhaps we should retire for a few hours. Get a little sleep--"
The library doors burst open and Buffy stumbled in, both trying to support a rather stumbling Angel and carry a box. Wesley stood, right on Rupert's heels. Rupert took the box and Wesley took Angel's other side. It wasn't until then that he realized there was an arrow stuck through Angel's chest. He and Buffy helped Angel into a chair and Wesley winced at the sight of arrow.
"We'll have to pull that out," Rupert said, setting the box down on the table. "Wesley? Why don't you see what information we've got while I help Buffy remove the arrow."
Wesley nodded, going to root through the box. As Rupert went to get the first aid kit, he tuned out Buffy and Angel's conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop. There were several notepads and he pulled out the first one, sitting down and beginning to read. Rupert returned and occasionally Wesley would look up to see how things were going. They cut off the arrow's fletching, Buffy tugging the shaft through.
Wesley cringed, his own shoulder aching in sympathy, and decided to keep his eyes on the work. He came to a section regarding a large carcass and quickly found the second notebook with the notes regarding that. "Fascinating."
"What?" Rupert asked, handing more bandage tape to Buffy. Wesley glanced up at him and for a moment was struck with the thought that it could be Rupert in that chair one day, perhaps even soon if the Mayor had his way. Pushing that thought aside, Wesley concentrated on answering Rupert's question.
"It seems our Mr. Wirth headed an expedition in Hawaii, digging in old lava beds near a dormant volcano."
"I'm not fascinated yet," Buffy said, giving him a look before turning back to Angel's wound.
"He found something underneath," Wesley continued. "A carcass, buried by an eruption."
"A carcass?" Wesley glanced up at Rupert and nodded, watching as the gears began to turn behind Rupert's eyes.
"A very large one," Wesley supplied. "Mr. Wirth posits that it might be some heretofore undiscovered dinosaur."
"A demon?" Angel asked.
"Yes, that would be something that the Mayor would want to keep a secret." Rupert nodded, beginning to clear the table and repack the first aid kit. "If it's the same kind of demon he's turning into and it's dead, it means that, well, he's only impervious to harm until the Ascension. In his demon form, he can be killed." Rupert straightened, removing his glasses and nodding, his face thoughtful in a way Wesley never got tired of seeing.
"Great. So all we need is a million tons of burning lava," Buffy snarked, moving to help Angel stand. "We're saved."
"Well, it's a start, anyway." Angel stumbled and Wesley looked up at him.
"Okay, you've been a real klutz today. You need . . ." There was something about Angel's expression that did not bode well.
"Damn," Angel said before crashing to the floor. Wesley stood, he and Rupert both going to Buffy's side. She crouched over Angel's unconscious body.
"Help me sit him up," she said, her voice containing a slightly frantic edge. Wesley and Rupert both moved to help, eventually getting him propped against the wall. Angel woke a few moments later, groaning softly.
"Are you all right," Buffy asked him, reaching up to cup his face in her palm.
"Groggy," Angel replied with a shrug, wincing at the movement in his shoulder.
"Giles? What did this?" Buffy asked. Rupert shook his head and then glanced back to the library table. He stood and Wesley followed him, watching as Rupert sniffed at the tip of the arrow they'd pulled from Angel.
"Perhaps poison?" Wesley suggested and Rupert nodded.
"We'll have to run some tests," he said.
"My shoulder's completely numb," Angel muttered, his voice tight with pain.
"You're burning up," Buffy said, her hand pressed against his face.
"It's poison," Angel confirmed. "I can feel it."
"Call the others," Rupert said, going to crouch down beside Buffy. "Get them here. We need to move him to the safety of his own bed before the sun comes up."
"Will you be able to find out what this is?" There was a thread of fear in Buffy's voice and Wesley found himself stepping forward, wanting to reassure her.
"The Council has all the known toxins on file, mystical or otherwise," he said. "I'll contact them immediately."
He suited action to thought, going into the office and carefully shutting the door behind him. Rupert stuck his head in just as Wesley was beginning to dial. "We're going. Come to the mansion when you've got something."
"I will," Wesley assured with nod. He had to hang up and redial when Rupert left. He was a bit nervous, wondering to whom he'd be speaking, want Travers would think of this. The Rogue Slayer had attacked again, and Wesley couldn't help but feel as if this were his fault. He'd failed with Faith, after all. If only he'd been more persuasive. If only he'd started her off on other techniques, made her want his help. Sighing, he pushed those thoughts away and forced himself to dial.
The conversations went worse than he'd feared. Far worse. And there wasn't just one of them. He'd started with the Council researchers, who told him they couldn't give that information without approval. He'd waited and waited for Travers, who'd flatly refused to give that approval and then, finally when no other option was left, Wesley had played the only card left to him.
He'd called his father and when that conversation was through, Wesley stared at the phone, all but shaking.
"He's a vampire, Wesley. Let him die and tell the Slayer to stop mooning over it. It's not Council policy to cure vampires. She's got more important things to think about and so do you. The other Slayer, for instance. Faith? You should have let the Council take her."
"Father, Buffy loves Angel and Angel is--"
"She can't afford such frivolities. Wesley." The disappointment was clear in just the way his father said his name. Wesley once against felt as if he were ten, staring up at his father, reciting the rules of Carsian grammar over and over until he had them all exactly right. "You should know better than this. I taught you better than this. You're letting them have too much rein, boy. Get your Slayers under control."
"Yes, sir," Wesley had said softly.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Wesley laid his head in his hands, trying to still the trembling in his fingers. He couldn't put this off. He had to tell Buffy and he couldn't imagine her reaction. Well, no, he could. Not the words themselves, but the anger. He could understand it. He'd feel the same, but he also knew what he had to do, what he had to say. She was going to want to dismember him.
Sighing, Wesley stood, throwing on his jacket and going to his car. The mansion wasn't far and he approached it with a sick dread curling through his gut. As he walked in, Buffy stood from her seat before the fireplace. The hopeful look in her eyes felt like a knife in his gut.
"Did you reach the council?" Rupert asked and Wesley looked over to see him standing by the open patio doors. Soon, there would be disappointment in those eyes and he couldn't hold Rupert's gaze for long. It was even worse than meeting Buffy's.
"Yes." His voice was soft, hesitant. "They, they couldn't help."
"Couldn't?" Buffy asked, shaking her head.
"Wouldn't," Wesley clarified. "It's not Council policy to cure vampires," he repeated his father's words and felt nauseated by them.
"Did you explain that these were special circumstances?" Rupert asked, though he looked as if he already knew.
"Not under any circumstances," he said, now finding Quentin Travers speaking with his lips. "And yes," he added. "I did try to convince them."
"Try again," Buffy said, staring at him so hard Wesley could almost feel it.
"Buffy, they're very firm." Wesley wanted to snort at the understatement, but held it at bay, forcing more of Travers' words. "We're talking about laws that have existed longer than civilization."
"I'm talking about watching my lover die," Buffy said, the anguish in her voice making Wesley's chest constrict. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about and I don't care."
"Buffy, we'll find a cure," Rupert rushed to assure her. Wesley dared at glance at him and found himself meeting Rupert's eyes. There was sympathy instead of disgust there and Wesley's knees nearly gave out at his sense of relief. Then he remembered that there was more to say and his stomach twisted hard.
"The Council's orders are to concentrate on--"
"Orders? I don't think I'm gonna be taking any more orders. Not from you, not from them." Buffy's voice was hard and cold.
"You can't turn your back on the Council," Wesley objected.
"They're in England. I don't think they can tell which way my back is facing." Buffy gave him a disgusted look. "What would you do, Wes? Huh? If it were Giles lying in there, dying? Would you concentrate on whatever the Council told you to? Would you ignore him? Let him die?"
Wesley stared, taken aback. Rupert opened his mouth to intervene, but Wesley spoke up, his whole body tight, heart beating faster at just the thought. His throat was so tight it was hard to get the words out. "If it were a choice between Rupert and the world?" Wesley closed his eyes against the prickling behind them and then opened them, meeting Buffy's gaze. "Yes," the word emerged soft and strangled. "And I would expect Rupert to do the same."
"You bastard," Buffy began, only to have Rupert step in.
"Buffy, that's not fair." Rupert's words were soft, but firm. Buffy shook her head.
"No. No more orders."
"Rupert, talk to her," Wesley insisted, trying to clamp down on the fear rolling through him. So much of it and all for different reasons. Would Rupert think him cold? If Buffy did this, went through with this . . . it boggled his mind. The Council was all there was, it was the backbone of everything. Slayers . . . died, the Council didn't. And, while he certainly didn't want Buffy dead, the thought of her leaving the Council shook his world. Where would it leave him? He'd have nothing at all to offer, anyone. His only use was his connection to the Council, not that it had proven very useful.
Not that he had proven very useful.
"I . . . I've nothing to say right now." Rupert's voice was soft and he gave Wesley a look that wasn't an apology, but was something . . . perhaps he was asking Wesley to understand.
"Wesley, go tell your Council that until the next Slayer comes along they can close up shop. I'm not working for them anymore."
Wesley sputtered, trying to find words, scrambling for a way to make this right. "Don't you see what's happening? Faith poisoned Angel to distract you, to keep you out of the Mayor's way, and it's working. You need a strategy."
"I have a strategy. The Council's not in it."
"This is mutiny," he gasped, fear filling him.
"I like to think of it as graduation," she said before turning to Rupert. "Giles, I can't stay here any more. I'm gonna see if I can help the others."
"Of course."
"You'll watch him?"
"I'll call if there's any change," Rupert said. Wesley stood there, opened mouthed.
"Buffy, you don't know what you're doing," he tried, one last time, to make her listen, to understand. Throwing away the Council's resources just because they wouldn't help this time . . .
Buffy only glared at him and walked past, leaving. Wesley watched her go and then glanced back to Rupert. He stared for a long moment, taking a step back when Rupert stepped toward him.
"Because supporting her decision is imperative?" Wesley asked. He was trembling again, angry and afraid.
"Because she's right," Rupert said softly, his eyes sad. "Their refusal to help . . . They're trying to force her to do things their way. Her way is what has gotten us--"
"The Council," Wesley interrupted, shaking his head. "Rupert, the Council is all there is. Without it . . ."
"That's not true, Wesley," Rupert took another step toward him and Wesley didn't back away. "There's Buffy. There's . . . us. We . . . She doesn't need them. They've been useless. Every one of their interferences has only brought more trouble--"
"Does that include me?" Wesley snapped.
"Wesley, you know I didn't mean--"
"No, Rupert. I don't know that." Wesley turned and left, not hearing if Rupert said anything further.
Concluded here.
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17 (overall rating)
Part: 16/17
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.
"Faith," Buffy said on a sigh. Wesley glanced at her, quickly pushing down the thoughts that all came tangled with Faith's name.
"You're sure?" he asked, taking his foil in both hands as he waited.
"One of her pieces," Buffy confirmed, nodding. "I recognize the brush work."
Wesley tapped his foil against the floor to get Rupert's attention. Rupert glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. Wesley smiled and raised his foil, making several quick, light strikes as Rupert read from the paper Buffy had handed him.
"Brutally stabbed. Mr. Wirth," Rupert read aloud. Wesley blinked as Rupert parried the first two of his strikes without actually looking away from the page. "A visiting professor of geology." Wesley moved in again, but Rupert parried and gave him a smug glance. "There's nothing in here that bellows motive."
"Random killing, perhaps?" Wesley suggested, remembering how quick Faith had been to draw that knife on Snyder. "Fit of rage?" Wesley went moved forward again, striking low only to have Rupert parry. "Everybody does seem to be going a bit mad, lately. Faith has something of a head start." The last had something of a bitter edge to it, Wesley knew.
"Doesn't read. I think it's homework," Buffy said. Rupert handed the paper back to her and signaled the end of the sparring session with his foil.
"The Mayor wanted the good professor out of the way," Rupert said, thoughtful.
"Which leads to the question, how come? I'm gonna destroy the entire city, but I take the time to kill harmless Lester first?" Buffy's expression told how much she believed that. Wesley snorted, shaking his head. It didn't make sense, unless--
"Tying up loose ends?" Rupert said, turning to lay his foil on the library table. "Lester had something or knew something."
"Then I wanna know too. The Mayor's trying to hide. I say we go seek."
"Yes," Wesley agreed, setting aside his own foil and sitting on the edge of the library table, next to Rupert. "You will go tonight. Look over his apartment. Anything of note, report back here."
"I just love it when you take charge, you man, you," Buffy groused, though she didn't look particularly comfortable with the smile that comment drew from Rupert.
"Uh . . . was that a yes?" Wesley asked, leaning against Rupert just to watch Buffy's nose scrunch. "I have trouble keeping track."
"I'll go," Buffy clarified, "but if I come back and find you two making out in the office, like Cordelia did, I'm gonna yak all over my new shoes."
"Be careful." Rupert put in wearily, shaking his head. "If Faith should show up . . ."
"I don't think she'll show." Buffy leaned in the doorway, her tone more serious now. "Been there, killed that. She's not much for follow-up."
"Nonetheless," Rupert put in. "Keep watch. Faith has you at a disadvantage, Buffy."
"'Cause I'm not crazy or 'cause I don't kill people?" Buffy asked with a sigh, crossing her arms.
"Both, actually," Rupert supplied with a grimace.
"I hear you. I can't kill her, fun as it may sound. I can make her cry uncle, though, and I mean to." Buffy gave a determined look and Wesley sighed.
"Don't let your feelings about Faith interfere with your work." He thought it was good advice, especially given how much trouble he sometimes had doing the same.
"Stopping Faith is my work. Take a beat to love the synergy."
"Faith is a footnote," Wesley contradicted, straightening and giving Buffy a serious look. "Our priority is stopping the Ascension."
Xander entered the library then, pulling a vaguely familiar young woman by the arm. It took Wesley a moment to place her, but he remembered seeing her at the Bronze the night the vampire version of Willow had come to Sunnydale.
"Easier said than done, monarchy boy." Xander said, making Rupert and he both roll their eyes, sharing a glance.
"Xander," Wesley said, "if you don't have something constructive to add . . ."
"You guys want to know about the Ascension?" Xander motioned to the girl beside him. "Well meet the only living person who's ever been to one."
Wesley and Rupert shared another glance. Rupert stood and pulled out one of the chairs around the library table, motioning the girl into it. "Have a seat, Anyanka."
"Anya," she corrected, slumping into the chair, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere else at the moment.
"Tell us about the Ascension," Wesley said, wanting to get whatever information they could before she decided to bolt. Fear was evident in her every movement and that certainly didn't bode at all well.
"About eight hundred years ago in the Kastka Valleys above the Urals, there was a sorcerer there who achieved Ascension. Became the embodiment of the demon Lo-Hash. I was there cursing a shepherd who had been unfaithful." Anya's voice grew more cheerful as she continued. "His wife had wished that all his sheep would lie with--"
"Can we cut back to the chase?" Buffy interrupted.
"Sorry." Anya shrugged. "Lo-Hash was . . . It-it decimated the village within hours. Maybe three people got out. I've seen some horrible things in my time. I've been the cause of most of them, actually, but this . . ."
Wesley cleared his throat, trying to fit this into what he knew. "I'm sorry," he said, "but Lo-Hash was a four-winged soul killer, am I right?" He looked to Rupert, who nodded confirmation. "I was given to understand that they're not that fierce. Of all the demons that we've faced . . ." he shrugged.
"You've never seen a demon," Anya contradicted.
"Uh, excuse me?" Buffy raised her hand. "Killing them professionally, four years running."
Anya leaned forward, putting her hands on the table and shaking her head. "All the demons that walk the earth are tainted, are human hybrids like vampires. The Ascension means that a human becomes pure demon. They're different."
"Different?" He and Rupert said together.
"How?" Buffy asked.
Wesley didn't at all like the way Anya paused, the way she hunched in on herself as she shrugged. "Well, for one thing, they're bigger." There was something in the way she said it, something that made Wesley shiver and move just a bit closer to Rupert. It wasn't fear, exactly, because she'd been exuding that since Xander dragged her into the library. Letting out a slow breath to calm himself, Wesley broke the silence.
"Would you be willing to look over the information we've gathered? Perhaps you'll spot something we didn't know to look for." He glanced to the others and saw Rupert and Buffy both nod.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," Anya said.
Wesley went to get his and Rupert's notes. Digging through the paperwork, he uncovered his volume of Dryden's poetry. Putting the other papers aside, he picked it up, running a hand over the cover. He'd left it at Rupert's flat when the Council came to town and it had been there since. He hadn't much thought about it, there had been other things on his mind. Why Rupert had brought it here, he didn't know. After all, Wesley had left several things at Rupert's flat after . . . when they'd not been speaking, and none of the others were here.
"Wesley?" Rupert's voice startled him and Wesley jumped a little, turning around to face Rupert.
"What?" he asked, ducking his head upon seeing the fond smile on Rupert's lips.
"I was wondering what was taking so long," Rupert replied, amusement thick in his tone. Then Rupert's eyes slid down to the book in Wesley's hands. His face growing more serious, Rupert moved to stand before Wesley and ran his fingers over the book's cover. "I was reading it," he said softly, something in his tone setting off a cascade of warmth in Wesley's stomach.
"Oh," Wesley said, glancing back to the book. "Feel free to finish." He made to hand the book to Rupert, but the man shook his head, meeting Wesley's eyes.
"I don't need it anymore." Wesley wasn't sure why those words made his chest tighten. Rupert was looking at him in a way he'd never seen before.
"Oh . . . all right." Smiling shyly, Wesley put the book back on the desk. He looked back to Rupert when he felt the man's fingers on his arm.
"Okay, you two," Buffy's voice reached them from just outside the office, her tone such that Wesley thought she might have found something particularly disgusting on the bottom of her shoe. "I'm coming in there and if you two are . . . I meant what I said earlier."
Rupert laughed softly, shaking his head even as he and Wesley stepped apart. Wesley had to clamp down on the urge to kiss Rupert just so Buffy could walk in on it. That would be petty, he told himself as he moved to get the notes he'd come in for in the first place. Buffy gave them a relieved look as she entered, holding out her hands for some of the notes. Wesley handed them over, giving a few to Rupert and then leading the way back into the library.
Laying it all out before Anya, Wesley took a seat. There was quiet in the library as Anya paged through the notes, all of them watching her, waiting.
"It doesn't sound like Lo-Hash," she finally said. "The rituals are all different."
"I wish that were a relief," Rupert muttered, Wesley nodding his agreement. There were thousands of other demons it could be and if what Anya said was true, and he rather thought it was, this could be even worse than they'd originally thought.
"What's going on?" Oz asked as he and Willow came through the library doors.
"And how come evil girl's in the mix?" Willow gave Anya a glare.
"Anya witnessed an Ascension," Rupert explained.
"Oh, that's okay then," Willow said in a tone unique to her. It made Wesley smile slightly.
"What about the spiders?" Buffy said to Anya, turning them all back to the subject at hand. "The Mayor had a box of spiders that he had to eat. The Box of . . . I want to say Grav-Locks?"
"Gavrock," he and Rupert corrected together.
"It doesn't ring a bell," Anya said with a shrug. She wanted to be here less and less as time passed, Wesley could see it in the way she held herself, hear it in the tone of her voice as she answered questions. Given what she must have seen . . . he could hardly blame her.
"Well, there must be something that you can remember that would be helpful," Buffy prodded. Wesley looked to the doors at the sound of their opening, blinking as Mayor Wilkins' walked inside as if he owned the place. Automatically, Wesley moved to Rupert's side, the others moving farther back.
"So, this is the inner sanctum," the Mayor said, looking about. "Faith tells me this is where you folks like to hang out, concoct your little schemes. I tell you, it's just nice to see that some young people are still interested in reading in this modern era. So, what are kids reading nowadays?"
He strode to the table and the others backed up a bit. Rupert held his ground, as did Wesley, remaining at his lover's side. Mayor Wilkins picked up one of their research texts, looking over it.
"'The beast will walk upon the earth and darkness will follow,'" he read aloud. "'The several races of man will be as one in their terror and destruction.' Aw, that's kind of sweet. Different races coming together."
"You never get even a little tired of hearing yourself speak, do you?" Buffy asked, her tone trying for bored. There was too much tension in it to pull that off.
"That's one spunky little girl you've raised," the Mayor said with a chuckle, looking to Rupert. "I'm gonna eat her."
Wesley barely followed what happened next. He saw Rupert begin to move, but was unsure why. He saw the flash of one of the fencing foils and then Mayor Wilkins was staggering backward, the foil sticking out of his chest. Wesley swallowed, looking from Rupert to the Mayor and back again. The quiet rage on Rupert's face would have been chilling had it been directed at him.
"Whoa!" The Mayor shook his head. "Well now, that was a little thoughtless." He pulled the foil from his chest as if it were a splinter. "Violent outbursts like that, in front of the children? You know, Mr. Giles, they look to you to see how to behave."
Nobody moved. For a heartbeat or two, there was utter silence. Buffy broke it with a succinct, "Get out."
Mayor Wilkins took a handkerchief from his pocket, slowly wiping his blood from the foil. "I smell fear," he said, eyes scanning the room. "That's smart. Some of your deaths will be quick, if that's worth anything. Well, see you all at graduation." He tossed the foil back to Rupert, who caught it easily. "You don't want to miss my commencement address," he said as he turned to leave. "It's going to be one heck of a speech."
They were all motionless for a long moment after the Mayor's departure. Anya stood and ran from the library, Xander sighing and going after her. There was shuffling as they turned to look at one another, all expressions rather worried.
"This changes nothing," Wesley said, forcing himself to sound confident. "We still have research to do, things to take care of before graduation."
Buffy nodded, "Yeah. Uh, I've got to go talk to my mom. I'll check out that place tonight and let you guys know what I find." Gathering her books, Buffy nodded at Rupert's warning to be careful and left.
Willow stood next. "I'll go back to the magical investigations. I don't know if I've got anything that will help, though."
"Keep looking," Rupert said with a sigh. "We can't stop now."
"Yeah. I'll get back on the computer," Oz agreed, holding out his hand to Willow. The two of them left and it was Rupert and himself again. Sharing a look, they both hit the books with renewed vigor.
After a few moments, Wesley looked up at Rupert, biting his lips as he thought. Finally, he said, "That man makes me a bit crazed as well."
Rupert looked up at him and opened his mouth to speak, then shrugged. "I shouldn't have done that. It could have . . . it could have ended badly."
Wesley nodded, reaching out to lay his hand on Rupert's. "It's understandable, though."
Rupert sighed, looking at Wesley's hand on top of his. "I'm glad you think so," he said softly. Their eyes met for a moment and then both went back to researching. Hours passed, though Wesley was only vaguely aware of it. He and Rupert took turns fetching the coffee, their day measured out in Styrofoam cups.
When Wesley's eyes began to blur to the point where he couldn't read through it, he stretched and closed his book. Exhaustion had crept up on him and found himself feeling jittery from the caffeine, but still likely to nod off if he let his head lie still long enough.
"I've got nothing," he muttered, pushing the books away. He set his glasses one the table and rubbed at his eyes, looking up when he felt Rupert's hand on his shoulder.
"Perhaps we should retire for a few hours. Get a little sleep--"
The library doors burst open and Buffy stumbled in, both trying to support a rather stumbling Angel and carry a box. Wesley stood, right on Rupert's heels. Rupert took the box and Wesley took Angel's other side. It wasn't until then that he realized there was an arrow stuck through Angel's chest. He and Buffy helped Angel into a chair and Wesley winced at the sight of arrow.
"We'll have to pull that out," Rupert said, setting the box down on the table. "Wesley? Why don't you see what information we've got while I help Buffy remove the arrow."
Wesley nodded, going to root through the box. As Rupert went to get the first aid kit, he tuned out Buffy and Angel's conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop. There were several notepads and he pulled out the first one, sitting down and beginning to read. Rupert returned and occasionally Wesley would look up to see how things were going. They cut off the arrow's fletching, Buffy tugging the shaft through.
Wesley cringed, his own shoulder aching in sympathy, and decided to keep his eyes on the work. He came to a section regarding a large carcass and quickly found the second notebook with the notes regarding that. "Fascinating."
"What?" Rupert asked, handing more bandage tape to Buffy. Wesley glanced up at him and for a moment was struck with the thought that it could be Rupert in that chair one day, perhaps even soon if the Mayor had his way. Pushing that thought aside, Wesley concentrated on answering Rupert's question.
"It seems our Mr. Wirth headed an expedition in Hawaii, digging in old lava beds near a dormant volcano."
"I'm not fascinated yet," Buffy said, giving him a look before turning back to Angel's wound.
"He found something underneath," Wesley continued. "A carcass, buried by an eruption."
"A carcass?" Wesley glanced up at Rupert and nodded, watching as the gears began to turn behind Rupert's eyes.
"A very large one," Wesley supplied. "Mr. Wirth posits that it might be some heretofore undiscovered dinosaur."
"A demon?" Angel asked.
"Yes, that would be something that the Mayor would want to keep a secret." Rupert nodded, beginning to clear the table and repack the first aid kit. "If it's the same kind of demon he's turning into and it's dead, it means that, well, he's only impervious to harm until the Ascension. In his demon form, he can be killed." Rupert straightened, removing his glasses and nodding, his face thoughtful in a way Wesley never got tired of seeing.
"Great. So all we need is a million tons of burning lava," Buffy snarked, moving to help Angel stand. "We're saved."
"Well, it's a start, anyway." Angel stumbled and Wesley looked up at him.
"Okay, you've been a real klutz today. You need . . ." There was something about Angel's expression that did not bode well.
"Damn," Angel said before crashing to the floor. Wesley stood, he and Rupert both going to Buffy's side. She crouched over Angel's unconscious body.
"Help me sit him up," she said, her voice containing a slightly frantic edge. Wesley and Rupert both moved to help, eventually getting him propped against the wall. Angel woke a few moments later, groaning softly.
"Are you all right," Buffy asked him, reaching up to cup his face in her palm.
"Groggy," Angel replied with a shrug, wincing at the movement in his shoulder.
"Giles? What did this?" Buffy asked. Rupert shook his head and then glanced back to the library table. He stood and Wesley followed him, watching as Rupert sniffed at the tip of the arrow they'd pulled from Angel.
"Perhaps poison?" Wesley suggested and Rupert nodded.
"We'll have to run some tests," he said.
"My shoulder's completely numb," Angel muttered, his voice tight with pain.
"You're burning up," Buffy said, her hand pressed against his face.
"It's poison," Angel confirmed. "I can feel it."
"Call the others," Rupert said, going to crouch down beside Buffy. "Get them here. We need to move him to the safety of his own bed before the sun comes up."
"Will you be able to find out what this is?" There was a thread of fear in Buffy's voice and Wesley found himself stepping forward, wanting to reassure her.
"The Council has all the known toxins on file, mystical or otherwise," he said. "I'll contact them immediately."
He suited action to thought, going into the office and carefully shutting the door behind him. Rupert stuck his head in just as Wesley was beginning to dial. "We're going. Come to the mansion when you've got something."
"I will," Wesley assured with nod. He had to hang up and redial when Rupert left. He was a bit nervous, wondering to whom he'd be speaking, want Travers would think of this. The Rogue Slayer had attacked again, and Wesley couldn't help but feel as if this were his fault. He'd failed with Faith, after all. If only he'd been more persuasive. If only he'd started her off on other techniques, made her want his help. Sighing, he pushed those thoughts away and forced himself to dial.
The conversations went worse than he'd feared. Far worse. And there wasn't just one of them. He'd started with the Council researchers, who told him they couldn't give that information without approval. He'd waited and waited for Travers, who'd flatly refused to give that approval and then, finally when no other option was left, Wesley had played the only card left to him.
He'd called his father and when that conversation was through, Wesley stared at the phone, all but shaking.
"He's a vampire, Wesley. Let him die and tell the Slayer to stop mooning over it. It's not Council policy to cure vampires. She's got more important things to think about and so do you. The other Slayer, for instance. Faith? You should have let the Council take her."
"Father, Buffy loves Angel and Angel is--"
"She can't afford such frivolities. Wesley." The disappointment was clear in just the way his father said his name. Wesley once against felt as if he were ten, staring up at his father, reciting the rules of Carsian grammar over and over until he had them all exactly right. "You should know better than this. I taught you better than this. You're letting them have too much rein, boy. Get your Slayers under control."
"Yes, sir," Wesley had said softly.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Wesley laid his head in his hands, trying to still the trembling in his fingers. He couldn't put this off. He had to tell Buffy and he couldn't imagine her reaction. Well, no, he could. Not the words themselves, but the anger. He could understand it. He'd feel the same, but he also knew what he had to do, what he had to say. She was going to want to dismember him.
Sighing, Wesley stood, throwing on his jacket and going to his car. The mansion wasn't far and he approached it with a sick dread curling through his gut. As he walked in, Buffy stood from her seat before the fireplace. The hopeful look in her eyes felt like a knife in his gut.
"Did you reach the council?" Rupert asked and Wesley looked over to see him standing by the open patio doors. Soon, there would be disappointment in those eyes and he couldn't hold Rupert's gaze for long. It was even worse than meeting Buffy's.
"Yes." His voice was soft, hesitant. "They, they couldn't help."
"Couldn't?" Buffy asked, shaking her head.
"Wouldn't," Wesley clarified. "It's not Council policy to cure vampires," he repeated his father's words and felt nauseated by them.
"Did you explain that these were special circumstances?" Rupert asked, though he looked as if he already knew.
"Not under any circumstances," he said, now finding Quentin Travers speaking with his lips. "And yes," he added. "I did try to convince them."
"Try again," Buffy said, staring at him so hard Wesley could almost feel it.
"Buffy, they're very firm." Wesley wanted to snort at the understatement, but held it at bay, forcing more of Travers' words. "We're talking about laws that have existed longer than civilization."
"I'm talking about watching my lover die," Buffy said, the anguish in her voice making Wesley's chest constrict. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about and I don't care."
"Buffy, we'll find a cure," Rupert rushed to assure her. Wesley dared at glance at him and found himself meeting Rupert's eyes. There was sympathy instead of disgust there and Wesley's knees nearly gave out at his sense of relief. Then he remembered that there was more to say and his stomach twisted hard.
"The Council's orders are to concentrate on--"
"Orders? I don't think I'm gonna be taking any more orders. Not from you, not from them." Buffy's voice was hard and cold.
"You can't turn your back on the Council," Wesley objected.
"They're in England. I don't think they can tell which way my back is facing." Buffy gave him a disgusted look. "What would you do, Wes? Huh? If it were Giles lying in there, dying? Would you concentrate on whatever the Council told you to? Would you ignore him? Let him die?"
Wesley stared, taken aback. Rupert opened his mouth to intervene, but Wesley spoke up, his whole body tight, heart beating faster at just the thought. His throat was so tight it was hard to get the words out. "If it were a choice between Rupert and the world?" Wesley closed his eyes against the prickling behind them and then opened them, meeting Buffy's gaze. "Yes," the word emerged soft and strangled. "And I would expect Rupert to do the same."
"You bastard," Buffy began, only to have Rupert step in.
"Buffy, that's not fair." Rupert's words were soft, but firm. Buffy shook her head.
"No. No more orders."
"Rupert, talk to her," Wesley insisted, trying to clamp down on the fear rolling through him. So much of it and all for different reasons. Would Rupert think him cold? If Buffy did this, went through with this . . . it boggled his mind. The Council was all there was, it was the backbone of everything. Slayers . . . died, the Council didn't. And, while he certainly didn't want Buffy dead, the thought of her leaving the Council shook his world. Where would it leave him? He'd have nothing at all to offer, anyone. His only use was his connection to the Council, not that it had proven very useful.
Not that he had proven very useful.
"I . . . I've nothing to say right now." Rupert's voice was soft and he gave Wesley a look that wasn't an apology, but was something . . . perhaps he was asking Wesley to understand.
"Wesley, go tell your Council that until the next Slayer comes along they can close up shop. I'm not working for them anymore."
Wesley sputtered, trying to find words, scrambling for a way to make this right. "Don't you see what's happening? Faith poisoned Angel to distract you, to keep you out of the Mayor's way, and it's working. You need a strategy."
"I have a strategy. The Council's not in it."
"This is mutiny," he gasped, fear filling him.
"I like to think of it as graduation," she said before turning to Rupert. "Giles, I can't stay here any more. I'm gonna see if I can help the others."
"Of course."
"You'll watch him?"
"I'll call if there's any change," Rupert said. Wesley stood there, opened mouthed.
"Buffy, you don't know what you're doing," he tried, one last time, to make her listen, to understand. Throwing away the Council's resources just because they wouldn't help this time . . .
Buffy only glared at him and walked past, leaving. Wesley watched her go and then glanced back to Rupert. He stared for a long moment, taking a step back when Rupert stepped toward him.
"Because supporting her decision is imperative?" Wesley asked. He was trembling again, angry and afraid.
"Because she's right," Rupert said softly, his eyes sad. "Their refusal to help . . . They're trying to force her to do things their way. Her way is what has gotten us--"
"The Council," Wesley interrupted, shaking his head. "Rupert, the Council is all there is. Without it . . ."
"That's not true, Wesley," Rupert took another step toward him and Wesley didn't back away. "There's Buffy. There's . . . us. We . . . She doesn't need them. They've been useless. Every one of their interferences has only brought more trouble--"
"Does that include me?" Wesley snapped.
"Wesley, you know I didn't mean--"
"No, Rupert. I don't know that." Wesley turned and left, not hearing if Rupert said anything further.
Concluded here.