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Anxious to be after her mother and Giles, Buffy pulled Angel in front of the mirror, positioning them as her mother and Giles had stood. Carefully she read off the incantation. As she did, so the mirror glowed. Softly at first, then with more intensity. Finally tendrils of golden light shot from the mirror surrounding all those in the room again, caressing each in turn. Buffy the tendril petted gently, almost affectionately.Then it reached Angel. At first touch it withdrew, suddenly as though in horror. Quickly it made the rounds of the others in the room again. Concentrating on the boys and Wesley. Then it pulled back into the mirror in what looked very much like a huff.
"What the heck?" Buffy put her hands on her hips. "It should have worked. Why didn't it work?" She turned to Wesley. Who had taken out his handkerchief and was polishing his glasses.
"Doesn't like the taste of vamp, apparently." Xander supplied.
Wesley's eyes went wide. "Oh!"
"Share, Wesley," Buffy growled. Bad enough Giles, her Mom, Xander and Cordelia did not like her boyfriend. The last thing she needed was for this stupid mirror thing to get judgmental.
"Uhm, well, it would appear that while the inscription regarding a man and woman is idiomatic, actually meaning a pair of lovers, it also has to be literally complied with as well." Wesley put his glasses back on. "Angel doesn't meet the requirements. He's not a ‘man’."
Buffy slumped. "Great. Just great. So what do we do now?"
Oz suggested. "Pick somebody else."
"But who?" Willow asked. "I mean we can't exactly go out just drag in someone off the street. And none of us. Well, I mean..." A blushing Willow left the sentence trail off.
Wesley sighed. "I'll call Cassandra."
It was a short conversation, which left Wesley staring at the phone with a frown. Buffy was impatiently hanging around the door of the office. "Well?"
Cordelia was also hanging on the exchange. "She coming?"
"No." Wesley rubbed his forehead. "Apparently Cassandra has uh, moved on. Without any particularly fond memories. And Watcher duty or no Watcher duty, she would rather spend a week in... well you don't need to know the details. Suffice it to say, she's not coming."
"What does she know?" Cordelia took his arm and patted it comfortingly. "We don't need some Watcher chick. She probably wears tweed to bed."
"Well, actually she had this robe." Wesley suddenly got a grip on himself. "However, that does leave us short any candidates to pass through the mirror."
"Point." said Oz. The rest of the group looked at him. "If all that's required is boffage, then somebody, well two somebodies, just need to do it."
Suddenly everyone in the room found the floor or skylight incredibly interesting.
~~~~~~ Joyce quickly took charge of Morag, trying to calm her. Once away from Gussie's feed back loop of hysteria she calmed quickly. Giles had a good deal less luck with Gussie. Once Joyce had Morag in hand the man proclaimed. "I must go after them." And rushed from the room.
Giles followed concerned as to his next step. Which was to pull several of the male servants from fire fighting duty and set them to saddling horses. Malcomb, clearly used to his master's ways, hastily reorganized his efforts. The butler appeared to be managing just fine on his own. Joyce and Morag came to the front door and watched as Gussie issued orders, which to Giles looked like more of a hindrance than a help to the men dealing with skittish, high spirited horses. "They can not have gone." He declared."We will pursue them." He turned to Giles. "Will you join us in our search, Mr. Giles?"
"I suspect I'll be of more use here." Giles suggested.
"As you wish." Fergusson was a touch condescending. Giles chose to ignore him. Joyce frowned. "Do not worry my love. We will find Meg. And the fiend who has taken her." Fergusson embraced his wife then vaulted onto a horse and rode off into the night with his footmen following, leaving the three of them standing in the doorway.
As they rode off, Joyce asked. "Do they have any idea where to look?"
"Wolf is known to frequent a tavern in Middlethwait. He will no doubt look there first." Morag supplied.
Giles shepherded the women back inside, steering Morag to the sitting room where he and Joyce had first appeared. "Since Wolf is intent on stealing the mirror as well, it would probably be wise to guard it."
"Yes, of course," Morag agreed. "We should have thought of that. We were so concerned for Meg."
"Naturally," Giles said quickly. "But with Mr. Fergusson, uh, actively seeking your daughter, perhaps Joy, uh, Mrs. Summers and I could examine the house to see what else we can learn."
Morag appeared dubious but gave her consent. Giles left the room quickly, Joyce hot on his trail. "Wouldn't it have been better to examine the house before riding off into the night?" She asked.
"I trust that was a rhetorical question," Giles remarked. "I very much doubt that our villain will be stupid enough to hide a small child at a tavern that he regularly frequents."
"Well that sort of depends on whether he got the family brains or not." Despite the circumstances Joyce could see the humorous side of this. "Although it looks like he probably did. I mean he's been playing around with black magic."
Giles blushed. "That's more a temptation like liquor or drugs. A rather different kind of foolishness."
Making a mental note to ask about Giles's experience with magic at some more appropriate time, Joyce remarked, "So we look for clues?" As they headed back up the stairs to Meg's room.
"Yes." Giles acknowledged. "That room looked more than a touch to neat for one from which an active seven year old child was removed against her will."
Entering the room, Joyce had to agree. Nothing was disarranged. The bed, though rumbled, looked more like someone had just gotten out of it than anything funny had gone on. The night light was even burning undisturbed by the bed. Giles proceeded to light the lamps.
"Can you tell if any of the girl's clothing is missing,” he asked.
Joyce went to the cupboard. "Morag would be able to spot it fasterthan I can." She started sorting through the garments.
"Possibly, but neither of the Fergussons seemed to be thinking too clearly just now." Giles was checking the windows.
"Well, their daughter has just been kidnapped." Joyce pointed out. "Stands to reason they're going to be upset."
"True, but that's no excuse to loose one head and go riding off into the night without a clear destination or purpose." Having completed his inspection of the windows Giles continued to look about.
Joyce snorted. "And if it were Buffy? What would you do?”
"Precisely what I am doing. Try to ascertain who took her and why." Giles put his hands in his pockets and thought for a moment. "Possibly sparing a prayer or two for the kidnappers' continued survival once Buffy got done beating them to a bloody pulp. I'll grant you I would be considerably more concerned about a small child, but even so Joyce, running off half cocked never accomplished anything."
"That's not a very heroic attitude, Rupert." Joyce had to grin. "In the classical literary sense I mean."
Giles snorted. "It is, if you want to survive until the next installment of the story. Even Buffy and the other children have learned to think things through before jumping into action."
~~~~~~ Cordelia spoke first. "He's got a point."
"You volunteering?" Xander asked.
"It's Buffy's Mom. Besides, it's not like I'd be all that much use to them if I did go through." Cordelia hastily added. "Not that I wouldn't consider it at the right time. With the right guy, it's just, well this isn't exactly the most romantic circumstances. You know."
"I, uh, I suppose, uh..." Willow looked at Oz, who put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. "No baby. Same problem as Cordy. Sides, not knowing the moon cycle on the other side of this thing could be a real problem."
"He's right." Wesley pointed out. "A werewolf is a semi-magical being. Combined with the magic of the mirror, heaven alone knows what might happen. We can't risk it."
He glanced at Buffy. Then blushed furiously, and looked away. Buffy chewed her fingernail. Her Mom needed her. Giles needed her. And it wasn't like she was a virgin.
Paralleling her thoughts, Angel got out. "Buffy, you couldn't possibly..."
"Why not?" Her voice was a little high and squeaky. "I mean, it's not... Well, I've done worse stuff as a Slayer." Glancing at Wesley, she really started blushing. "Not that I meant it that way. I mean...That is...Oh, God...something swallow me up. Where's an open Hellmouth when you need one?"
"We don't need one. Don't even suggest such a thing in jest. Either thing." Wesley said with some firmness. "That is if you're proposing... Well, what I think you're proposing, absolutely not. Such a thing is strictly forbidden under Council Guidelines. We will have to find an alternative method."
Cordelia smiled at him, keeping a firm hold on his arm.
Buffy wondered for a moment whether, if things had been reversed, Giles would have been quite so quick to turn the idea down out of hand. And got an image of Giles doing his glare at her. She giggled. Okay, maybe this pseudo father thing went pretty deep.
"I'm delighted that you find this so amusing, Buffy." Wesley said huffily.
"Naw. I just flashed on the look Giles would be giving us if he could overhear this conversation." Buffy mimicked the Giles's glare as best she could.
"Scary." said Xander. "Don't forget, Giles has a shotgun in there."
"Quite right." Wesley hastily removed his arm from Cordelia's grasp.
But Xander had drawn Buffy's attention with his comment. She frowned slightly. "Uh, Xander, we're buds after all. And the Slayer/Watcher deal doesn't apply."
Xander interrupted with a vehement, "No." Surprising everyone, including himself with his fervor. "No, Buff. You know I'd do just about anything for you, but not that. At least not on account of something like this. After you'd hate that we... Not to mention I've spent way too much time learning not to think about you like that. I couldn't. Not after Faith." Xander suddenly looked very grown up. "At least... Don't ask me, Buffy. Please?"
Angel grinned in relief.
"She isn't asking you, lad." Wesley spoke gently. "Clearly there is a better way to aid Mrs. Summers and Mr. Giles. Some more research would seem to be in order."
As the Scooby Gang broke, with considerable relief, to once again search for answers, Oz commented under his voice so that only Xander could hear him. "Smooth, man. Very smooth."
"Oh, yeah." Xander rubbed his face. "God, could I be more of a dweeb."
"Naw. That was cool, Xand." Oz nodded knowingly. "Very menchelike, as Willow's granddad would say."
Wesley cornered Angel. "We should go through the diary entries again. It would appear that Mr. Giles and Mrs. Summers may be altering events as they interact with the altered reality of the mirror. If that is the case then nothing we've read is actually required to come to pass."
"Good, cause ‘coming to pass’ would be very bad." Buffy nodded.
Sending Buffy to search out whether any more books had mysteriously appeared in the book cage, Wesley turned to Angel. "That was a very...honorable thing, young Xander just did."
Angel shrugged. "He can do all right sometimes. And it's not like Buffy would have gone through with it."
"Actually I believe she would have." Wesley kept eye contact with Angel. "And still might if we can find no other solution. In either event, if I find you have ever said anything to Xander to make him regret his behavior today, I will personally stake you, soul or no soul. Do you understand me?"
Amused, Angel commented. "Your heart rate speeds up just facing me down in conversation. Do you really think you could stake me?"
"Yes, I do." Wesley was definite. Scared to death but definite. "Your entry here is based solely on Buffy's affection for you. Misplaced as that may be. Should it become necessary for Buffy to... turn to someone else, I would have no qualms about expelling you or eliminating you. Frankly I have serious doubts as to your presence within this group dynamic."
"I just want to help." Angel told him.
"For which I thank you. But," Wesley cleared his throat. "were it not for your continued presence on the Hellmouth I think Buffy's life would be considerably less complex. Xander today showed a remarkable capacity for putting Buffy's welfare above even her own desires. I think you need to ask yourself if you can do the same."
With that he turned and walked quietly to Giles's office, where after closing the door, he collapsed in terror on the couch.
~~~~~~ Giles and Joyce had completed their inspection of Meg's room and moved on to Deborah's. Joyce was just finishing checking Deborah's wardrobe when Giles exclaimed. "Hello, what have we here?"
Turning, Joyce saw that he had managed to open what looked at first glance to be a solid wall. "A secret passage? Geez, talk about cliché."
Taking the lamp and peering into the dark, Giles commented. "It seems to parallel the stair way. Probably all the way down to the ground floor. And someone has been keeping it clean. I'll wager our abductors left this way."
"And they or rather she didn't have to gain entry because she was all ready in the house." Joyce was certain. "Meg's cloak and hat were missing along with that dress she had on when we got here. And I think she was sleeping with a doll that I couldn't find any sign of either. I'm no expert on servant's clothing, but there aren't any outdoor things and all of these dresses are uniforms. Wouldn't a governess have a few civilian outfits for her day off?"
"Almost certainly." Giles nodded. "So Deborah, the Governess, has packed her bags and taken Meg. She almost certainly had to have help though. She could hardly manage both the child and the luggage."
"That's easy. Take the luggage down first while Meg's still asleep, get the horses ready and only at the last minute take Meg down. Any mother who's ever packed kids into the car on a trip would know that one, Rupert." Joyce nodded. "Although with horses you'd almost need somebody to manage them while you're doing it, wouldn't you?"
"Probably." Giles agreed. "I'd like to check out this passage. Why don't you go ask Morag if all the servants are accounted for. Oh, and see if she'll lend us some warm clothing. I've a feeling the next part of the investigation is going to take us out and about. I don't fancy wandering around a Scots moor after dark in only a suit coat."
"Right." Joyce hurried down to the drawing room. Leaving Giles to descend the secret stairwell. Pity they had so much to do, Joyce mused on her way down the stairs. She'd have liked to see that stairwell.
Morag found it difficult to credit Joyce's assumption. "Oh, I can't believe Deborah would help some felon. She's devoted to Meg."
"Well, what if Wolf convinced her if was for Meg's own good." Joyce suggested. Privately, Joyce did not think it would take all that much convincing, Deborah was not much more than a teenager. More likely, Wolf just made love to the girl and sweet talked her into going a long with his plan.
"Oh, dear." Morag covered her face. "My poor baby."
"Now, Morag, you can't break down now." Joyce carefully sat next to the woman and patted her arm. "Think about Meg. You have to be strong for her."
"Yes, of course." Morag pulled a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and patted her eyes. "You're such a strong woman, Joyce. It makes me so proud to think that a descendent of mine could be that strong without being unfeminine."
"Yes, well, you do what you have to." Joyce was a little embarrassed. "After Hank left it was just me and Buffy so I learned to take care of myself."
"You're very brave." Morag patted Joyce's knee. "I could never do that. And I knew it was not your fault you were divorced. Did he leave... Was there... another woman?"
"No. Leastwise he swears to Buffy there wasn't. Things hadn't been good between us for years. Then when Buffy burned down the gym... well Hank's not real good in a crisis."
A lot like good old Gussie in fact, Joyce thought but did not say. Rupert might be cold blooded but at least you knew you could count on him to keep his head when all hell broke loose.
Course after the events of earlier this evening, she really should not be thinking of Rupert as cold blooded. Once you peeled him out of that tweed he got pretty damn hot. Joyce quickly glanced away from Morag so she could not see the self satisfied smile Joyce knew she was developing. Even a Victorian lady would have no trouble interpreting the look Joyce was giving the mirror. Oh, yeah. There sits a woman who has recently had a really good lay. As she smiled to herself the mirror seemed to glow a trifle. Then it rippled, rather like a pond that had been disturbed and for an instant Joyce saw an image not reflecting the neat sitting room.
It was her living room in Sunnydale. Except it was not. That couch was different and there were bookshelves she did not have abutting the fireplace. A fire blazed merrily away. Rupert was lounging quite comfortably in front of the hearth in pajamas and robe, a book open in his lap. His arm around the shoulders of a little boy in Star Wars footy pajamas. The child was perhaps five or six, with blonde hair in short curls and the most beautiful green eyes. Except there was a brown spot in the child's left eye. Just like Rupert. Suddenly the little boy looked up and smiled at her. Joyce's heart did a leap. That was Buffy's smile. The one her father swore was identical to Joyce's.
Dear God, were she and Rupert going to have a baby?
"Joyce?" Rupert's voice was gentle. "Are you all right?" He had come into the room to find Joyce gazing in wonder into the mirror. To him it showed only the reflection of the room and Joyce, looking indescribably beautiful, staring at herself.
"The mirror is revealing itself to her." Morag said proudly. "What did you see, my dear?"
"Uh," Joyce shook her head, "Uh, well... just my living room back in Sunnydale."
That seemed a trifle mundane for a magic mirror. "That's all?" Giles asked.
"Yeah. Just a domestic scene. Nothing mystical." It took no consideration on Joyce's part whatsoever to decide she was not going to describe that scene to anyone. Not even Rupert. They had been together exactly twice and absolutely nothing scared a man off faster than suggesting parenthood. No, until such time as there was something concrete to worry him about she was not telling him about magically predicted kids.
But Morag smiled knowingly. Fortunately she said nothing.
"Right," Giles cleared his throat. Clearly something was passing between the women that was going over his masculine head completely. He decided to rely on Joyce's common sense to tell him about it if it had any bearing on the matters at hand and ignore it otherwise. God knows it would not be the first time he'd been baffled by women. "The secret stairwell lets out, quite conveniently into the stable yard. Your servants appear to have the fire under control, by the way, Mrs. Fergusson. Although they're going to be busy for awhile yet to do anything else. Malcomb tells me that all the servants are accounted for except Philan, one of the stable hands. Malcomb finds Philan's absence suspicious. Apparently he has a history as a less than satisfactory servant."
"Philan has been with the family all his life. His mother was a housemaid here.” Blushing, Morag added. "Gussie's father had a great fondness for her."
Giles took that to mean that Philan was Gussie's bastard half-brother. And from Malcomb's understated condemnation of the man, he was bitter about the way he had been treated. "Malcomb also indicated that Philan may have a bolt hole out on the moors. I should very much like the opportunity to examine that spot and with luck locate Philan."
"Of course, Mr. Giles. Take whatever you need. Although I fear the horses will be somewhat spooked."
After being rescued from a fire? Giles shuddered. If Gussie did not have a sluggish horse, Giles would walk. "Yes, well, I'll check and see what kind of shape they are in. With luck one will be manageable."
"Make it two." Joyce told him. "I'm coming with you."
Giles paused to think about that. "Do you ride, Joy, uh Mrs. Summers?"
"Of, course." Joyce told him.
"But Joyce do you think that wise?" Morag asked.
"Mr. Giles shouldn't go up against Philan without someone to watch his back. And if we do find Meg I'll be along to help look after her. She's going to be a little spooked too, and Mr. Giles's experience is mostly with older children."
"Oh, my poor little girl." Morag looked ready to cry again.
"Very well, Mrs. Summers," Giles said. "I'll arrange for the horses if you could see to getting some clothing?"
"And blankets for Meg." Joyce added as Giles left.
"Thank you Joyce," Morag held out her hands. "I would go myself, but my condition..."
"You don't want to be riding a skittish horse while you're pregnant." Joyce finished for her. "Besides you need to stay here and guard the mirror."
Joyce collected the gear they needed with Morag's help and set out to find Rupert. This proved relatively easy. He was leading two horses toward the house when she opened the door. They were clearly not the finest the stables had to offer. "Just how much do you know about horses?" She asked.
"Enough to know that a high spirited riding horse is not going to be any good for days after being pulled from a burning stable." Giles answered. "The gelding is used by the yard man to cart around refuse and was in the back pasture. The mare actually belongs to Father Ramsey. She brought a couple of his man servants over in a cart to help with the fire. They assure me he won't mind us borrowing her. She's supposed to have a sweet temper."
"Okay, but that gelding has got a mouth like iron." Joyce commented. "How good a rider are you?"
"Well, I used to be pretty good, but I haven't been on a horse in twenty years." Giles admitted. "And you?"
"About the same." Joyce decided to come clean. "And I've always ridden western."
"You take the mare then." Giles had already decided that would be the case. Nice to have an excuse beyond chivalry. "That way the change in tack won't be as much of an issue."
Joyce handed him the heavy coat and gloves. As he got into them she checked the girth on the mare's saddle and took a look at the gear. Everything seemed to be there from what she remembered of her riding back in high school. There just seemed to be less of it. She hoped she could still remember how to post. The horse would probably expect it. "I figured I was going to have to fight you about this." She told him.
"Yes, well." Giles double checked the tack on the gelding and moved over to stand by Joyce. "My experience with Summers women is such as to suggest that you'll be safer and less likely to put yourself in danger if I keep you with me."
He gently adjusted the scarf she had tied around her head, making sure the ends were well out of the way so as not to catch in the tack and then boosted her into the saddle. Mounting his own horse, he pointed the way. "Shall we off, fair lady?"
"Indeed good sir." Joyce spoiled her response with a giggle. "You know I've always wanted to rescue a maiden."
"If we run across any dragons I'm going to blame you." Giles said as they made their way out onto the Moor.
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