Interesting Times
Interesting Times by John Jones

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Part Twenty-Three

"Hold it," said Buffy. "I've gotta know. What is the deal with theboombox?"

"I am a worker of magick, Buffy, somewhat like Andru." Giles explained. "Although I prefer to use music as a focus instead of computers. I used Henley's energetic rhythms to short out any recording devices that were present in the police interrogation room. There were matters we discussed that I had no desire to share with the Memphis police. And of course the imagery of darkness and light in "Battle of Evermore" was quite appropriate in the casting of my sleeping spell on Miss Emily back there."

"Is that why you used the cross? I thought crosses didn't work against vampires here." said Buffy.

"Mostly that is true. To successfully use a religious symbol against one of the Kindred requires an enormous amount of faith and trust in the diety represented by that symbol. For my part, God doesn't seem to care about me, so I don't really give a damn about *Him*. On the other hand, the cross *is* a beautiful piece of artwork, and Emily is a Toreador. The Toreadors' weakness is a predisposition for beauty. They can easily become entranced by beautiful objects, beautiful places, even beautiful people." he said, looking at Buffy. She felt herself flush.

"That isn't a come-on. It's a statement of fact. Your pretty face was what made you a target. Tell me, weren't there times in her presence when she seemed to get distracted from her goal, sidetracked?"

Remembering with a shiver how Emily had stroked her face and hair, Buffy said "There were a couple of times."

"Even elder Toreador are vulnerable to entrancement. Thus the cross aided me in entrancing her and made the spell more effective." he finished.

"Enough explantion, Presley's probably worried about us, and himself for that matter." They walked up the stairs.

Elvis was pacing nervously in the foyer when they saw him. "What happened?" he asked. "Is she all right?"

"Buffy is fine." said Giles. "Emily has gone to sleep for a time. I suggest you deal with that mess downstairs. I implanted a message of forgetfulness in her mind before I left. As long as the evidence of her activities is gone, she shouldn't resume her 'dollmaking', at least for awhile."

Elvis nodded in combined relief and despair. "I can't keep doing this, Dev. I can no longer recognize myself as being my momma's son. My momma's son wouldn't do the things I have to do for her. But I love her Dev. The blood-bond leaves me no choice but to love her and care for her and clean up after her when she does these sickening things."

The King look away for a moment. "You know the truly horrible part? Sometimes she's not that...that mockery of a child. She's noble and kind and has the wisdom of ages. She was originally Ethiopian, did you know? As I understand it she was one of the first converts to Christianity in that country. She believed when the Ethiopian eunach from Acts spoke of his encounter and baptism by Phillip. She even kept the faith when she was Embraced, for a time, at least."

Elvis hung his head. "But she couldn't reconsile it, being saved and Damned at once and she retreated. She came to me while I was *dying*, you know? I thought she was an angel from heaven come to save me." "The Dagger can cut anything, Elvis. Ropes, dimensional walls and emotional slavery, given the proper rituals." said Giles reassuringly. "You will be free of her, and soon."

"I truly hope so. If I'm not, then one fine day I will walk into the sunlight. As head of the Toreador in Memphis I've condemn criminals in my clan to be staked and left for the sun to burn. I've watched them on videotape. It seems a painful death, but a swift one. Surely brevity counts for something in such a case."

"You won't need to find out," said Giles. He reached into pocket and drew forth the cross, handing it to the King. "Thank you for loaning this to me. It was a great help."

"She was always fond of religious imagery, even in her madness." he replied. "You have what you need?""Yes." said Giles.

"Then good fortune to you." He turned to Buffy, "And for whatever the prayers of the Damned are worth, I'll be praying for your success aswell." "Um...thanks" said Buffy.

He nodded absently. She and Giles walked to the car and got in. As they started driving, Giles handed something shaped like a walnut to Buffy. "When you've found Melissa and seen where the Dagger is, crush this. It will send a signal that allows me to bring in the troops to deal with Melissa and get the Dagger. It will also shield your mind from casual probes."She took it and pocketed it.

"Are you going to do as I tell you," he asked. "Or is all if this just a waste of my time."

"I'll do it." she said crossly.

He sighed in weary exasperation. "You know, this would be ever so much easier for me if I just didn't care. I *am* a worker of magick, after all. It wouldn't be terribly difficult to just subtly influence your mind such that you obeyed me without question."

She glared at him. "Then why don't you?"

"Because I care about you. You've awakened in me feeling I'd though long buried and thus I cannot just shackel your will and use you as a tool." hesaid. Buffy swallowed at the word 'feelings' and opened her mouth to speak. He cut her off. "Please allow me to explain. It isn't what you think. And if you make the comment I think you will, it will be distracting. I am...unused to discussing such matters and it is difficult for me."

Not trusting herself to speak, Buffy nodded in agreement.

"I wasn't always like this, you know. As a child I was somewhat shy and retiring. I had this horrible stutter and at my father's insistance wore very conservative clothing. Gods," he snorted. "Can you imagine, a ten-year old dressing in tweed?"

Buffy smiled at that. "You might be surprised." she said.

"My father was very wealthy, a member of Parliment, which is Britain's version of your Congress. He was very concerned with proper appearences. I was instructed in the various manly arts. Marksmanship, self-defence, riding. By the time I came to university I was probably the deadliest Pre-law major, business minor the school had yet seen.

"It was at University that I met her. Her name was Genifer and she was of Romany stock and the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. For some miraculous reason I have to this day to fathom, she returned my affection and we married while still in school. Hell, I sound like a cheap romance novel." he snorted"No, you don't." said Buffy, curious and wanting to hear more. "Father was horrified, of course. A *Giles* marrying Gypsy trash? Unheard of. He cut me off without a cent until I saw reason and came home." Buffy felt her eyes sting at the of what might have been between *her* Giles and Jenny.

"I didn't see reason and we got by. I got a clerking job at a law office and achieved scholarships to put myself through school. After a year we had a child, Sarah. Genifer sent a picture of her to Mother and Father. Apparently, Mother had been working on Father, much the way the ocean will patiently erode even the hardest stone. Father relented his banishment. He saw that I would persevere and at least he *had* a grandchild, whom he doted on from the moment he held her.

"Things changed then. Father used his influence to aid me in getting a promotion to a liveable wage, and 'loaned' us money to be paid back 'when you get steady on your feet, Rupert.' Then came Christmas. I had to work late on some documents for one of the senior partners in the firm on Christmas Eve, the old bugger. Genifer and Sarah went to my parents' home. Her parents were dead, you see. In the weeks previous my Father had made several rather inflamatory speeches in parliment concerning the Irish troubles. And in response, the Ulster Liberation Front, a small, extremist splinter of the IRA, detonated a bomb at my parents' home and killed everyone there."

Buffy stifled a gasp and a coldness seeped into her chest. "After I got the estate settled I joined the Army. With my childhood training and Father's friends' connections, I entered the SAS. At that point I just wanted to die, preferrably while killing the terrorists who'd destroyed my life. I didn't die, though. To my surprise I found I was very good at my tasks. Apparently one of the positives with not caring whether you lived or died was the freedom to concentrate more fully on mission objectives."

Buffy continued to listen in horrified fascination to this story of an alternate Giles.

"Eventually, on authorized missions and private excursions, I found and killed all those who'd been involved in the bombing. The trail ended with my putting a bullet through the eye of a Cabinet Secretary. Oddly enough it wasn't even revenge that drove me. It seemed to be more of just the overwhelming English urge for order and completion. 'A place for everything and everything in its place.' Even if that place was a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere."

"You killed them all," asked Buffy, still uncomfortable with *Giles* doing these things. "Just like that?"

"No," he said in a calm voice. "Not 'just like that'. It took a good deal of time and effort to track them down and kill them all. Fortunately, I was and am a patient man."

"O-kay." said Buffy, her eyes a little wide at these revelations. "My magick fully manifested while I was still in the SAS. A satchel charge detonated close to me and I somehow shielded myself with will alone. A fellow mage in the unit secretly helped me get a handle on my power. When I finally mustered out, he offered me a job helping to save the world from supernatural evil. Not having anything better to do at the time, I accepted. Time has a way of distancing pain. Even if my wounds didn't heal, they at least stopped hurting so much or so often. I changed my name because Giles reminded me too much of what had gone before. Deveraux was my mother's maiden surname. Martin was my grandfather's name. I still hold a bit of anger toward father to this day."

Buffy just sat there, still not certain how she fit in, but not knowing how to ask.

He stared into the Memphis night for a moment and then continued. "It is a terrible thing to outlive one's child. There is always a void of potential that will never be filled. Although I tried. If one has the power and the knowledge, one can actually look through time, can see possible futures and pasts. I looked upon my child's life as it could have been. She would be older than you now, probably in college. But you bear an incredible resemblence to her as she would be at your age, in both physical appearence and in personality. Now do you understand?"

"I-I think so." said Buffy, compassion lancing her heart.

He went further. "I am sending you into terrible danger because I must. Circumstances have left me no choice. I *need* you to survive this, though. I do not think I can bear the loss of my child again, even by proxy. So please, as a favor for me that I do not deserve, don't make a foolish error and get yourself killed."She smiled wanly. "I won't. I promise." The car stopped. "Examining the log of the teleporter, I found where you'd been sent. You told me in the police station what you and Melissa had arranged. Obviously I can't let you out right on the spot, she may have watchers. If you cut through the alleyways, you should get there. Just follow what I said, and you'll get through this. My combat team is assembling as we speak. Good luck, and be *careful*!"

Buffy got out of the car and it sped away. Shivering slightly in the warm night, she walked into the dark alleys toward her destiny.

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