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Author's Note: I caught some flak in the reviews for that little spike against George "Burning" Bush, but I guess that was to be expected. Sorry, guys, but sometimes I can't resist the temptation. I'm not going to turn this into a discussion of politics (which could become very lengthy), so I promise that the remainder of this story will remain Bush-free, so to speak.

And now, on with the show!

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Power Politics 3: Behind the Scenes

#

The White House
Washington DC, USA
January 11, 2000

Parallel 047

#

Your name is Richard Wilkins III, at least for the moment. Once upon a time you were Richard Wilkins II and, even earlier than that, Richard Wilkins I. People tend to get suspicious about men that don't submit to the ravages of time, so now and again you had to pretend to die and return as your own descendant. It's gotten pretty routine by now.

Soon your name will be Roger Tribby and, if all goes well tonight, you will also get to put a little honorific in front of that new name. President, to be precise. President of the most powerful country in the world. It might not be exactly the same as ascending into a greater demon in order to conquer the world by force, but it's almost as good. Besides, the whole conquering the world thing is just a matter of time.

When you first found yourself in this new world you were irate. A century of planning, all come to naught. Your Ascension was but months away and what little interference you had by that pesky Slayer and her friends was negligible at best. Suddenly and without warning, though, everything was taken from you. Or so you thought.

True, your plans have been ruined. True, this world you now live in does not contain the necessary metaphysical forces to complete your Ascension, at least not in the way you originally envisioned it. All things considered, though, things could be much worse. As it is you are the only man in this entire universe with a working knowledge of magic. Granted, magic is not the same potent force here that it was back home, but against a world filled with ignorant mundanes? It will suffice.

Case in point being your current whereabouts. The White House, seat of power of the American government. A simple teleportation spell brought you inside, right past all those laughable defenses. Back home you know that the government employs warlocks of its own and all major government installations are surrounded by runes to prevent such things from happening. Here, though? Nothing. The place is wide open and just begging for someone to take over.

Someone like you.

Checking your watch, you realize that Mr. Trick will be entering the Congress building right about now. Trick is a good employee, if a bit limited. All that talk about always seeing the big picture. Well, he does what he is told and he recognizes greatness when he sees it. That is more than can be said about most employees you have had over the decades.

You wonder what the headline will read tomorrow morning. Terrorists slaughter President? Bloodbath in Congress? Well, whatever colorful words will be used, you are quite certain that somewhere in those articles it will read "Roger Tribby, stricken by grief yet determined to serve his country, has been sworn in as the new president" or something along those lines. You have already practiced your speech for tomorrow. It contains just the right amount of sad words and encouragement this wonderful country will need to hear after such a terrible tragedy.

Tribby is in the residence, you can feel his presence there. It wasn't that hard to compose a tracking spell, seeing as the two of you are related, or as close to being related as two people from different universes can be. Your counterpart in this world, dead for many years now, was the grandfather of this chap. A pity, almost. You never had children in your own world. It might have been nice to take some time to get to know your descendant. Well, some things can't be helped.

Making your way toward the residence, carefully avoiding detection by way of the magical cloak you wear, you are nevertheless suddenly confronted by the last person you expected to see in this world.

"Mr. Wilkins, I presume?" the newcomer asks.

"Mr. Giles? Well now, that is a surprise. I didn't think I'd meet you here."

The Slayer's Watcher looks different than the last time you saw him. No tweed, instead he is wearing an immaculate blue suit. No glasses to be found and his hair looks darker, almost as if he were ten years younger. Also there is something very strange about that amulet he wears around his neck. Shaped like an eye, it almost reminds you of ... no, that can't be possible, can it?

"Is that what I think it is?" you ask, seeing no reason not to engage in civil conversation before you kill the man. "The All-Seeing Eye of Agamotto? However did you get your hands on that little trinket, Mr. Giles?"

"It was given to me as something of a graduation gift, you might say. Also, I find it only fair to inform you that I am not the man you probably think I am, Mr. Wilkins."

You frown for a moment, then understanding lights up your face.

"Oh, I'm such an idiot. Of course. You must be the Rupert Giles of this world. How stupid of me. Tell me, how is it that an artifact like the Eye even exists in a world with so little magic?"

"You are mistaken, I'm afraid. I am every bit as much a stranger here as you are. Now maybe we can settle this matter like gentlemen."

You shake your head, amused. "Mr. Giles, please! Do not tell me you came here to stop me from improving this world! I would be so disappointed."

"Then I will have to live with your disappointment, I fear. A burden, surely, but I think I can carry it."

You raise an eyebrow, quite unaccustomed to someone keeping up with your conversational wit. Most people are either too scared of you to engage in this kind of civilized banter or too eager in their desire to see you defeated. It seems this Mr. Giles, whatever world he might come from, is neither one nor the other.

"Does it really have to come down to this, Mr. Giles? I detest violence. It is such an imperfect method of getting what you want."

"This from the man who just sent vampires to Congress to slaughter the entire cabinet? I think you jest, Mr. Wilkins."

"Oh, you know about that, too? Well, don't you want to be off then? Save a few lives? Be the hero for all these dusty politicians?"

"There is really no need for my involvement in that affair. A few friends of mine will take care of it, I'm sure."

"Friends? Mr. Giles, did you take your little Slayer along on this trip? Really, that is quite unfair, I think."

"Surely you no longer suffer from the illusion that the world, any world, is fair, Mr. Wilkins."

You sigh, nodding. "Yes, I'm afraid that illusion was very much ruined long ago. Right along with Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Stork. The things we lose along the way."

"As fascinating a conversation as this is, Mr. Wilkins, I do believe we should get on with this, don't you?"

Checking your watch again, you can't help but agree. "Certainly. I wouldn't want to keep my descendant waiting. Well, not my descendant exactly, but you know what I mean, Mr. Giles."

"I know. Think nothing of it."

You almost regret having to kill him. You haven't had good conversation in quite some time.

"Well then. Shall we?"

#

Service tunnels beneath the United States Congress
Washington DC, USA
January 11, 2000

Parallel 047

#

Your name is Alexander Harris (you hate your middle name, so you usually leave it out) and you have seen quite a few strange things. Being a member of the Scooby Gang was strange enough. Becoming an immortal and living for over a century while trying not to lose your head in the Game only piled more strangeness onto your life. But today can certainly compete with the strangest of days that you have experienced during your long life.

"Let's see," you mumble, speaking to yourself as you sometimes do to relieve the stress a bit. "I was taken from my own world a heartbeat before my scheduled death. I get teamed up with the Twilight Zone version of my old friends and our mission is to keep all of creation safe from the aftermath of some sort of omniversal crisis. We get sent to a world without demons and vampires, or so the ads say, only to face a horde of vampires intent on wiping out the US government while their immortal wizard boss tries to take over the Oval Office. And whom do I get as my tag team partners for this? Steelclaw-Faith, Big Bad Wolf Oz, and soulless deadboy on steroids."

You shake your head, smiling. Sometimes it is a miracle you manage to get through sentences like that without starting to cackle in pure disbelief and/or insanity.

Well, if nothing else the enhanced senses all three of your bad-ass comrades possess enabled you to easily pick up the cadaver stench of the vampires before they even came close to Congress. Unfortunately you didn't get there in time to save the two Secret Service agents guarding the service entrance. You know they weren't supposed to die. Neither were these unlucky chaps that Trick transformed into vampires. You can't help but wonder whether the damage done to this parallel might already be irreversible.

Fortunately the service tunnels down in the belly of the Congress building are empty now, everyone is upstairs to listen to the State of the Union. With a little luck you will be able to finish this without anyone else getting involved.

The four of you stand in the middle of the tunnel, facing a crowd of at least fifty vampires.

"What do you say?" you ask Faith, the only one of your current teammates who seems more or less like you remember her. "Twelve each?"

The metallic sound of your sword being drawn from its scabbard is accompanied by growls from the advancing vampires.

Faith chuckles. "I bet you I'll dust more than that, X-man!" With that strange SNIKT sound her claws emerge from her hands. Some of the vampires see them and hesitate, but then advance again.

"What about you, wolfy?" Faith asks, looking over at Oz. "Care to put your rep on the line, too?"

Oz says nothing. You don't remember your own Oz to have been a man of many words, but compared to this guy he was downright wordy. This Oz simply grimaces and then his human form starts to ripple and change. A heartbeat later an eight feet tall werewolf stands in its place, spittle dripping from its fangs. Now the vampires seem a bit reluctant.

You spare a final side glance for Angelus. No wisecracking with him. It's been a long time since you were scared of any of the monsters (one of the side benefits of being nearly unkillable), but for some reason this guy scares the crap out of you. On the surface he seems to be the same sadistic vampire bastard you remember from that time he lost his soul in your world's Sunnydale, but you are not fooled. There is more to this guy. Willow 12 said he was more than a vampire. No, not more. Worse, something worse. You can almost feel it. There is an almost tangible aura of malice and foulness surrounding him, even when he's still in human form.

Angelus says nothing, either, but the grin on his face and the stare he gives the approaching vampires makes your blood run cold. Judging by the fact that the vampires slow to a stop it might just work the same on them.

"I see some familiar faces," the lead vampire says. From a dim memory you recognize Mr. Trick. He never was much of a player in your world, killed within a few months of coming to Sunnydale. Still, it won't do to underestimate him. "This is a bit unexpected. But quite possibly fun."

"It's about to get funnier, Trick," Faith snarls at him. She, apparently, has recognized him immediately and her reaction makes you think she might have a similar history with him as your own world's Faith had. "This one will kill you."

"Faith, my dear. It's been a while. And Angelus, it's an honor. And you other two, aren't you part of the Slayer's little troupe as well? Fascinating. However did you all get here?"

"Can we get this over with?" Angelus asks, now looking rather bored. "I was kinda hoping to catch some of the speech up there."

"Never pegged you for a political commentator, deadboy," you say, your tongue running away from you. Angelus just grins at you, but it's the kind of grin that has very little friendliness in it.

"I have a certain appreciation for the power of the spoken word. It's so elegant a weapon in the right hands."

Trick's eyes brush across all of you, measuring. He is worried, you can see it in his eyes, but not too much. After all, he's got you outnumbered at least twelve to one. He has the upper hand, or so he thinks.

"Gentlemen," he growls, never taking his eyes off you. "Let's get this over with!"

The vampires surge forward and you find yourself thankful for the narrowness of the tunnel you are fighting in. They can't come at you more than five abreast, the rest having to hang back until there is room. Gripping your sword tighter, you go about making room.

"One! Two!" Faith is growling, slicing, and counting her kills all at the same time. "Three!"

"One!" Your first vampire dies, your blade taking off his head. "You might want to give me a bit of a head start here, Faith! You being the Slayer and all. Two!"

"Four! I thought you were the bad-ass immortal swordsman, X! Can't handle the competition? Five!"

A side glance shows you Oz, now in full wolf-mode and big as a horse, tearing right through the ranks of the vampires without even slowing down. Severed limbs go flying where he passes, his claws every bit as devastating as Faith's metal ones.

The fight quickly turns into a wild melee, all hope of keeping an overview lost as the vampires swarm forward in the hope of defeating you by sheer numbers. It's not looking too good for them, though. Most of them are fledglings, barely out of their coffins. It wouldn't have mattered against politicians and agents trying to kill them with guns, but it very much does matter now.

Still, they are so many of them. If even one or two get past and reach the Congress chamber ...

Faith seems to be enjoying herself thoroughly, a look of wild abandon on her face. Oz is slaughtering vampires left and right, tearing through them like tissue paper. You aren't doing too bad yourself, though you have little hope of actually beating Faith in the numbers game. She's already up to ten and you are working on your number six. The few wounds you have received heal almost instantly. You briefly see Faith, a bloody gash on her forehead, but it closes right before your eyes. Her Slayer healing seems almost as good as your own immortality. Buffy never healed this fast.

Beheading your sixth vampire, you finally realize that there is someone missing.

"Where is Angelus?" you yell, but everyone is too busy fighting to answer.

#

Congress Antechamber, United States Congress
Washington DC, USA
January 11, 2000

Parallel 047

#

Your name is Angelus and you can't help but see a certain humor in this situation.

"I bet you I'll dust more than that, X-man," you chuckle in a fairly good imitation of Faith's Bostonian dialect. "Idiots! No wonder they're the B-team."

TO BE CONTINUED