Buffy is not mine

None of the chapters have been betad so any mistakes are mine alone!

CHAPTER SEVEN

"James, do you think me a stupid man?"

James stood before Charles Wyndham, the newly appointed Director of the Watchers' Council. Meeting the man's pale blue eyes, he kept his expression carefully neutral, despite the inner banging of his heart and the instinct that told him he was in some kind of serious trouble. And it didn't take an idiot to know what kind.

"Stupid, sir?" he said, willing his voice to remain steady. Wyndham's face creased into a smile, but the smile failed to reach his eyes, which remained cold and watchful.

"Yes, stupid, sir." He repeated James's words and James felt his insides crawl.

"No sir."

"No sir." Wyndham's smile widened but the eyes became frigid with displeasure. "Then why is it that I've received reports of your photocopying manuscripts to which you are not supposed to have access?"

"Manuscripts, sir?" James's voice almost faltered, and it was then that Wyndham finally showed his temper.

"Stop playing the damned fool, James!" he yelled, and James had to force himself to stand his ground; as it was, he felt his face pale. "I know what you've been doing, and I won't have it!" Wyndham sighed, took a huge breath, obviously trying to control himself. "A month ago, you might have got away with it. My predecessor had unfortunately lost sight of what was right and what was wrong, had lost touch with was happening right in front of his eyes. His death was… lamentable, but very well-timed."

Wyndham smiled his wintry smile and James thought he might vomit. What, exactly, was Wyndham trying to tell him? That the previous Director had been…? God, no. No, that was paranoia, surely?

"Now, I know I'm considered to be a hard-liner," Wyndham was saying, evidently enjoying James's obvious discomfort, "and that opinion is absolutely correct. Security has been stepped up of late, James, and you have fallen foul of it by presenting falsified access papers. Fortunately our good librarian, Smithers, saw fit to inform me. In my capacity as Director, I have a huge responsibility, and I have decided that in the fight between good and evil, there can be no more wishy-washy leniency or this deplorable tendency toward tolerance. I won't have it anymore, do you understand me?"

"Perfectly sir." James knew better than to disagree; Wyndham had taken the Director's post with full support from the Watchers' Council, and he wasn't about to contradict him. Inside though, he felt a strong loathing seed itself and begin to flourish.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Now, I know you have been aiding and abetting the Summers girl and that monster, Angelus. No, James, please don't try to worm your way out of this," he said as James made to defend himself. "Frankly I'm very surprised that you thought I wouldn't find out. We members of the Council know everything, James. Haven't you come to realise that yet in all your years of working with us?"

"I…"

"Everything, right down to the contents of your dreams, James. And I do mean that literally. Your thoughts, your feelings, your desires, James, and I must say that I'm very disappointed in you. Do you want to keep your position, James?"

"Yes sir…"

"Yes sir." Wyndham waved his hand toward a chair. "You'd better sit, James. You look as though you've had a nasty shock." James moved toward the chair and almost fell into it. Dear God, nothing had prepared him for this. He knew he'd been wrong to help Buffy. He'd known it, and still gone ahead. Never again, he thought…

"Buffy Summers has finally gone too far, James, in her desire to help Angelus. I take it that I haven't been misinformed about his current condition, that he cannot die, and that's why they are seeking to regain his humanity?"

"No sir, you haven't been misinformed."

James saw no reason to lie now; Wyndham obviously knew everything, as he'd said, although how he knew was a mystery. Then he flushed with fury. Council telepaths of course. Mind-spying on him. How dare Wyndham authorise such a thing? How dare he? But he said nothing. Silence seemed the only option.

He waited for Wyndham to proclaim some sort of punishment. Relieving him of his post as Watcher would no doubt only be the beginning. James supposed he might well discover if there really was an Afterlife some time very soon. But Wyndham said nothing for a few moments, merely regarded James with his icy eyes from behind steepled hands. When he eventually spoke, his voice was full of unpleasant gratification.

"Well, James," he said, "I'm very glad to be able to tell you that you've greatly helped me, albeit unwittingly."

James's mouth fell open with shock.

"Helped, sir?" he managed.

"Buffy Summers has been a thorn in our side for a long time. Too long. She's outlived her usefulness - such as it has been - but she's been tolerated because of that unfortunate incident in Sunnydale." Another cold smile. "I suppose saving the world from Hell deserves some recognition. But that time is long past, and Miss Summers has since shown herself quite incapable of doing her job - her Sacred Duty, I might add - properly…"

"Sir, she has effected peace here. I know it's not how it's Written but…"

"There can be no peace!" Wyndham shouted, suddenly erupting with anger again. "We want no peace, James. Peace encourages complacency and we can never be complacent in our fight. Something you seem to have forgotten in the past year or so. And you were so vigilant when you began, James. So upholding of the Traditions. Do they mean nothing to you now?"

"Sir," James felt himself recovering, and he managed to inject strength and sincerity into his voice. "Sir, if I have been lax of late, then of course I will do anything to rectify it."

"Anything, James?"

"Yes sir."

Wyndham appraised James for a long moment, and James made his mind blank, suddenly certain that Wyndham could read his thoughts. Wyndham nodded.

"Very well. I want you to help Miss Summers in her quest to find Angelus' humanity." Wyndham nodded again, more emphatically. "Oh yes, definitely. She will find out the truth about Darla's sire, which of course, we in the Watchers' Council already know. Not that you have been privy to such information. You haven't needed to know up until now. But we in high position know it; we know all the Old Ones. If you are to reach such exalted station, James, which, if you co-operate fully, you may yet come to obtain, then you will know too. All the secrets, James."

James felt as though he were being hypnotised; he had to force himself to drag his eyes away.

"Darla's sire is Chastaine de la Villeneuve. She currently resides in Paris, and is the High Priestess of the Cult of Set. Are you aware of such a cult?"

James raked his memory.

"Sounds familiar, sir," he said. "Originally, in Egyptian mythology, Set - or Seth, as he was also called - was the brother of the God Osiris, whom he murdered. But as far as I know, it's only a myth. So what has this to do with Chastaine de la Villeneuve?"

"Set exists, James. He is Chastaine's sire. Look it up, the legend. It is fully documented." Here Wyndham pushed a piece of paper across the desk at which he sat, toward James. "This gives you proper written permission to access the archives, to remove the appropriate material. Smithers has been informed that you will be researching this, and will help you." A smile. "Saves you breaking in like a thief. When you have learned all there is to know, you will help Miss Summers and Angelus gain access to Mademoiselle de la Villeneuve, and destroy her and her sire. A dangerous and difficult task, for no doubt they are well-guarded. You can safely assume that this is the greatest test of your Watcher's knowledge and power that you will ever have to face. Do this and your future is assured."

"I don't understand how this relates to Miss Summers, other than she will aid Angelus in the destruction of a presumably ancient bloodline."

"My dear, dear James, haven't you understood me? Come now, you're not a stupid man, although you have acted stupidly of late. If you were stupid, you would never have advanced as far as you have. Ensure that the bloodline is destroyed, that Angelus returns to human form, and then ensure that Miss Summers and Angelus have… well, fatal accidents, shall we say?"

Cold sweat erupted all over James's body; he knew he should try to keep control, but what Wyndham had asked him to do revolted him, so that control was almost impossible.

"You can't be serious?" he whispered. Then he remembered his threat to Buffy, only days ago. That should she continue to be un-co-operative, she would be terminated. But God, that had only been an idle threat on his part, to make her see…

"Very serious," Wyndham affirmed. "I told you. Miss Summers has reached the end of her useful life. And Angelus… Well, the world will be a better place without him. He's caused us more than enough trouble in the past, and the time has come for him to pay."

"But murder, sir…"

"It's been done before, James, and it'll be done again. The status quo must be returned, and this is the only way. Now, are you up to it, James, or will it be necessary to find an… inducement to help you make up your mind?"

"Inducement, sir?" Oh Jesus…

"How is your wife, Helen? Doing well, is she? Recovering? It would be such a shame if she should… Well… Suffer again. After so many years… In the same way as before, James. In the way that made you open to us in the first place."

"You wouldn't," James said, his voice barely audible; somehow, the words just didn't seem to want to come. "That would be… be against everything this organisation stands for."

"Sometimes, James, you have to bend the rules to fit your own plans. Helen nearly died last time, James. Do you want her to die? And come back? And die again?" Wyndham watched James's face carefully, saw the horror. "No. Of course you don't. But of course, not co-operating would never cross your mind, would it now, my dear James?"

"Absolutely not, sir." The image of his wife's tortured body rose from his memories, memories he had tried to submerge and drown. His wife of barely a year… His pregnant wife of barely a year…He saw the bite marks covering her body, saw her terrified eyes, eyes that would soon dim to the blankness of catatonia, her mind as dead as the child inside her. Eyes that had never regained their sparkle, despite years of treatment in the expensive nursing home she'd been put in. Dear God, ten years… "No sir," he repeated, and felt defeat crush him.

"Good man. Now, we have arranged for another Slayer to come here in Miss Summers' absence. She has been fully trained from the age of five years old, and comes from the Japanese culture, a culture that understands the concept of absolute duty and loyalty. Her name is Akira Misao, and she and her Watcher will be brought to London as soon as you have left the country with Miss Summers and Angelus. Her first job will be to wipe out every single vampire in London. Including, and especially, Storm, who has become much too confident and sure of his immortality in recent months. Anything to say, James?"

"Supposing I'm killed before we can kill Chastaine or Set?" James tried not to think of the threat, only of his assignment. Anything else and he'd go crazy.

"Well, if that happens, make sure you at least take Miss Summers with you." Wyndham seemed unperturbed at the thought of James's death, but then, James had, during this ghastly conversation, come to believe that Wyndham cared nothing for individuals, as long as the Council retained its authority. Oh, but hadn't he always known it, in some deep dark recess of his mind? But they'd seduced him, hadn't they, with murmured promises of revenge for Helen? Of how he could become a Flaming Brand of Goodness. Of how it was destined…

But Wyndham had wiped all that away now. Despite his mouthings about Sacred Duty and Good and Evil, James thought that Wyndham - and perhaps - probably - the rest of the Council - was every bit as cruel and wicked as the vampires and other creatures of darkness they had been appointed to fight.

Had it always been like this? James wondered. Had he been so duty-bound himself, so brainwashed, that he hadn't seen it? No. More likely, he hadn't wanted to see it. And he didn't want to see it now. How could an organisation that held itself up as the Guardians of Mankind behave in such an immoral way? To remove Angelus was understandable; James could almost applaud that, although he deplored the method. But to remove Buffy…? Buffy, who despite her wilful and open disregard of the Council, still fought evil in her own way and had, James reluctantly admitted to himself now it was too late, succeeded in forging a truce which had been deemed impossible.

But he kept the thoughts locked up in his mind, careful not to allow their surfacing, just in case Wyndham could read his thoughts. How could he, in all conscience, allow his wife to suffer more? He was all she had, even though they could never have a marriage in anything but name. Helen didn't even recognise him when he visited…

"Well, James?" Wyndham's voice seemed to come from a long way away. "You've gone very quiet."

"Just thinking, sir. This is a difficult assignment I've been handed."

"I'm quite sure you won't let me down, will you, James?"

A silent moment as they regarded each other. James became more determined that Wyndham should not see how defeated he felt. How… utterly impotent.

"Very well, sir," he said, willing the strength to say the words. "Anything you say."

"Are you quite sure, James?" Wyndham's eyes bored into his.

"Absolutely sir. You're quite right, of course. I have forgotten my own duties of late." James managed a faint smile of his own. "I won't forget them again."

More appraisal from Wyndham, until James felt as though his brain might explode with the pressure of keeping his thoughts private. Finally, Wyndham smiled, apparently satisfied.

"All right, James. You may go." James stood. "And James, whatever your reservations, and I appreciate that you must have some, do your duty in the knowledge that it's for the best."

"Yes sir."

James left the room, knowing that Windham's eyes were following his every move. When he shut the door behind him, he leaned against the wall, eyes closed, aware that if he didn't, he might well collapse.

Kill Buffy, he thought. Could he do it?

Closing his eyes, breathing deeply against oncoming faintness, he knew there was no choice.

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