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Giles raced toward the horses, knowing that time was running out. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his older self, attempting to intercept the man with the gun, and prayed that one of them would get to their targets in time.
“Joyce!” he shouted, as he neared the unsuspecting women, “Joyce, move away from the horses! NOW!”
He saw Joyce turn to him, with a look of confusion on her face. She had no idea what was going to happen...and neither should he, but at that moment, a vision of future events struck him with a terrifying jolt. As though he was looking down on events that had not yet taken place, he could see Philan raise the musket, preparing to fire. He then watched helplessly as the shot was fired, ripping through Joyce with deadly accuracy.
He could not let this happen...again!
Giles heard the loud retort of the gun, and instinctively dove toward his lover, slamming his body into her, and driving her to the ground. He felt the sudden stinging in his right shoulder, as he fell down on top of her, protecting her body with his. Soon the stinging turned to agonizing pain and pressure. He had been shot!
But, he couldn’t take the time to worry about that, as he heard the uneasy winnies of the horses. They were placid beasts, he thanked god for that, but even they wouldn’t keep calm among gunfire, for long. He listened for a second boom, as he rolled off of her. When none came, he quickly scrambled to his feet, dragging Joyce with him. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that both Philan and his older self were in a death struggle for the gun. It had already fired once, and would have to be reloaded, so there was no threat from that. But when Philan grabbed for the revolver in the older Giles’ waste coat, he knew things were getting out of hand. If, he didn’t do something fast, he would be forced to watch himself die at the hands of a cut throat. And that was too bizarre to even want to imagine.
“Joyce,” he said, taking her eyes off of his bleeding shoulder, “listen to me.”
“But you’re hurt...”
“Joyce!” he said forcefully, grabbing her arms, and giving her a small shake. This small act sent a wave of pain through out his arm, and centered in his chest. He winced and continued, “Get yourself, Meg and Deborah, away from the horses. They’re starting to get nervous.”
“But what about you?”
“Just do it!”
Joyce helped get Deborah, and Meg off of the horse, and the three of them began to head to the safety of the barn. Joyce turned, half expecting Giles to be right behind her. When she saw him moving toward the struggling men, she cried out, “Rupert, what in God’s name are you doing?! Where are you going?”
Giles turned to her and answered, “Trying to save myself.”
Giles ran as fast as he could, all too aware of the growing weakness he was feeling. He was losing blood...not at a great pace...but enough to make him a little unsteady on his feet. He had to get to the men, before the last bit of energy drained from him.
As soon as he reached the two men, he heard the pistol fire into the air. The older Giles was doing a decent job in deflecting the danger away, but he was not a young man anymore, and Philan was determined not to be captured. Giles grabbed for the gun, and swung his arm back. With all of his might, he hit Philan squarely in the nose, knocking him to the ground, unconscious.
The older man turned to Giles and smiled, “Well, done.”
Giles gave a weary smile, swaying slightly, “Don’t mention it.”
And with that Giles collapsed.
****** Angel turned to the page and stared at the words as they changed again. It was only about three hours until morning, and the gang was getting weary, looking through books and journals. They needed to find out how to save Giles and Joyce before history changes forever.
“I don’t believe this,” Angel sighed.
“What?” Buffy asked, knowing what he was about to say, “Let me guess,” she offered, “the book changed again.”
“The book changed again.”
“Oh, hey...so did this!” Willow exclaimed, getting up from the computer, “I was looking for anything on the Looking Glass, and I accidentally hacked into the data base of COW.”
Wesley’s ears perked up, “Hacked in? Hacked in? Isn’t that illegal?”
“Um...well...”
“Only if you get caught,” Xander smiled.
“That's not a very good example you’re setting...you know...”
Buffy looked at her friend and asked, “What did you find out?”
Willow went back over to the computer, and hit a few keys, “Well, remember when Giles said that the Looking Glass was lost until recently?”
“Yes, it was,” Wesley confirmed, “The council had been looking for it for quite a while. Why?”
“I was never lost,” Willow proclaimed, “The Council knew where it was all the time, even after the thing at Mort Grange.”
“How is that possible?” Wesley asked confused, “I was always under the impression that it was lost. Even in the journals, it states that the magic of the Mirror was...”
“I know that,” Willow interrupted, “But their own files don’t lie. According to this, the Watcher assigned to keep tabs on the Mirror, during the time of Mort Grange, was Father Theodore Ramsey.”
“Wait! The same Father Ramsey that Morag wrote about?” Oz asked.
“I guess.” Willow said.
“Father Ramsey...” Wesley said thoughtfully, “A Watcher?” then it hit him, “Now I know why the name sounded familiar!” He went over to the Watcher Journals and searched through the many volumes until he found what he was looking for, “I knew it! Father Ramsey was more than just a Watcher...he was an active Watcher for almost seven years, until his Slayer was killed. That was one year before the incident at Mort Grange. It was then that he requested to be assigned to the Mirror.”
“But why?” Buffy asked.
“I don’t know,” Xander offered “Maybe he wanted to do something good. Keep himself busy...”
“Or maybe he wanted to use the Mirror for himself,” Oz pointed out.
“Could he?” Cordelia asked.
“I’m not sure,” Wesley said honestly, “But it might be possible. You see the way history can be changed in the Mirror...what if he wanted to use the Looking Glass to save his Slayer. After reading some of his entries, it’s obvious that he cared very deeply for his Slayer...which is one of the many reasons why it’s against Watcher protocols to have any feelings...”
“Can the speech, Wes,” Buffy interrupted, “All, I care about is bringing Giles and Mom back safely. If this Ramsey guy wanted to use the Mirror to contact Elvis...that’s fine by me.”
“Well, it won’t be fine if he’s one of the people responsible for the theft of the Mirror,” Angel added.
“Huh?”
He picked up the diary and began to read...
TRANSLATED BY ANGEL:
‘Had I known I was going to be betrayed by someone so trusted to me, I would not have left the Mirror unguarded for a moment. Now, the Mirror is stolen! Joyce and her Sassenach, Mr. Giles, went after Wolf to retrieve the Mirror before it is too late...but I worry for her man. Though he assures me he is fine, he was wounded in the search for my daughter, and is looking weak. An older man, Mr. Smith, helped bring them home safely, and fixed his injuries, but I’m afraid that he needs the care of a doctor...and we just don’t have the time...’“Wait!” Buffy said, with a mixture of emotions, “Mom doesn’t die anymore? Great! But, what happened to Giles?! God, this is driving me nuts! I can’t take this anymore!” Buffy picked up the diary and threw it across the room, directly at the Mirror. The book hit the clear glass, and froze. It was as though time stopped right in front of the Looking Glass. The book floated in the air for a few minutes, before falling to the ground with a thud.
“Okay,” Oz said deadpanned, “that’s new.”
“I’m sorry,” Buffy apologized, picking up the book, and handing it back to Angel, “I just wish I knew how to help them.”
****** Giles moaned and slowly opened his eyes. He tried to focus on his surroundings rather than the intense throbbing sensation in his shoulder. He was lying in a bed, and could feel the soft touch of a woman’s hand, holding his. He looked up and saw the warm smile of Joyce. It was a sight that made all the pain worth while.
“Welcome back,” Joyce smiled, “You had us worried. You had me worried.”
“How long have I been out for?” he asked, trying to sit up. The pain was too great, and he laid back down with a groan.
“Easy lad,” a familiar voice said, “You shouldn’t be trying to get up....unless you want to pull open the wound.”
“Wound?” Giles asked the older man. Then he remembered. He had been shot. “I was outside. How did I get here?”
“Mr. Giles carried you in here.” Joyce explained.
It was strange to hear her call this man by his surname. It was almost as though she was speaking about his father, rather than who he truly was. He looked into the hazel eyes of the gray haired man standing beside him, and sighed. This man, was indeed Rupert Giles...but not the man he once was. There was a sadness about him, that could only come from too many years of tragedy.
Giles had that same look in his eyes the night Jenny was murdered, and now he was seeing it again in the eyes of his future self. It was a sadness that he understood well. This older man had to live with at least twenty years of knowing that he could have prevented the death of the woman, he loved, and now...had a chance to look upon her again.
“You had quite a few musket pellets embedded in your shoulder. Nothing too serious, but it was not easy removing them,” The elder Giles explained.
“You did this?” he motioned to his bandage.
“Yes,” Joyce said, propping a pillow under his head, “he was very good. And he explained everything.”
Giles was confused, “Everything?”
“I told Joyce that I’m you, in an alternate future,” he explained, “But as to a full explanation...that will take some time.” He rose and headed for the door of the bedroom, “First, I must check on our prisoner. Can’t have him dream of escaping, so soon to the...well, I’ll explain in a bit.”
Giles, sighed and gripped Joyce’s hand. He was confused, and in pain, but somehow her touch made everything seem that much better. And as soon as his older self returned to shed light on this strange world they’ve been tossed into, he would feel even better.
****** The older Giles hadn’t been gone for long when little Meg cautiously entered the room. She shyly walked over to Giles and Joyce, and reached out for his hand. “Ye look hurt. Tha’ man in the other room dinna hurt ye...did he?”
“Meg,” Deborah scolded, entering the room behind her and went to take the child out, “Now, I tol’ ye not t’bother Mr. Giles...aye?” Then to Giles, she apologized, “I’m so sorry, fer evr’thing I’ve done. Because of it, things have gone from bad to worse.”
“It’s not your fault,” Giles said, sympathetically, “You did what I’m sure you thought was right...whatever your reasons might be. At least you help her get away from Philan, when you did.”
“Thank ye,” She smiled sweetly, “Wolf tol’ me tha’ if I brought Meg to ‘im, tha’ she would grow up in a proper home. I should’ve known better. Yer canna take a wee bairn from her ma...it’s just not right. We’ll be lettin’ yer rest now. Come along there, Meg. Let’s leave Mr. Giles to rest.”
Meg placed her tiny hand in Giles’ and kissed him softly on the cheek, “Ah hope ye feel better soon. Then maybe we could play?”
Giles looked at the sweet little girl and smiled, “I would like that very much, Meg. Just as soon as we bring you back home to your mother.”
Meg just smiled and followed the young nanny out. Giles watched the little girl exit, and a strange feeling of deja vous flooded him. He had seen this before...he was sure of it. But how? Why didn’t he have these visions and feelings before? And why did he have this sinking feeling that Meg was a key figure in the secret of the Looking Glass?
“I think she likes you,” Joyce smiled, not realizing the growing uneasiness Giles was feeling.
Giles smiled back at her, trying to push the feeling of dread as far back as he could, “Are you jealous, Mrs. Summers?”
“Of a nine year old girl?” She grinned wickedly, “Does this answer you?” She kissed him firmly on the lips, settling into a comfortable embrace, careful as not to aggravate his sore shoulder.
Giles returned the kiss with great passion, delving his tongue into her hungry mouth. They parted, leaving both of them slightly breathless, “Well,” Giles hummed, “you have me in bed, like you wanted. You feel like being wicked?”
At that moment, the older man entered the room. Joyce quickly sat up and looked to the graying man, “Is everything okay?” She asked.
The man smiled, knowing full well, what he had almost interrupted, “Um...yes. Philan is secured and Deborah took Meg outside to pick flowers.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Giles, “Now, for a better explanation.”
“Yes, please,” Giles said, “I’m feeling quite in the dark here. How did you get here?”
“That, my dear boy, I’ll get to in a moment. First, I need to explain why I’m here.” He took a deep breath and began, “That shot was meant for her,” he said, looking at a stunned Joyce, “By the time I had realized that Philan wasn’t in the house, it was too late. But, the gun shot wounds was not what was serious. Some of the pellets, hit one of the horses, causing it to rear.” he took a hold of Joyce’s hand and sighed, “I tried to save you...but...”
“I died.” she stated plainly. “You know, I had the strangest feeling, when I heard the musket go off...like I knew what was supposed to happen...”
“I did also,” Giles said, surprised.
“That is the effects of the Mirror,” the older Giles explained, “And I will get to that also. But right now, I must tell you both, that with this change in history, things are not going to be any easier. When Joyce died, I was devastated. I couldn’t think of anything but my lose. Then came the eclipse.”
“Eclipse?” both asked.
“Wolf managed to steal the Mirror, and hide it in an old cavern about half a days journey from here. Morag told me that something was going to happen, where the sun and moon would be as one...then the Mirror would open, and all would be right. But, if Wolf used it, he could gain control of it and use the Mirror to alter history, and change the future. So, I set out. I reached the cavern just as the sky grew dark. It was a full solar eclipse.”
“Oh, my god!” Giles said, painfully sitting up, “The riddle was literal. When the moon and sun where together, it would open!”
“But,” Joyce asked, “didn’t it open when we were brought through?”
“No,” the elder Giles said, “the Mirror didn’t open. It brought you through itself. The Mirror is more than just a Magical object...it has...well...I suppose you could call it a presence. It somehow knew that the both of you could stop Wolf from corrupting the Looking Glass.”
“But we didn’t, did we?” Giles asked.
“No,” he shook his head sadly, “Because Joyce died, the balance was disrupted. I was unable to stop Wolf from using the Mirror, and he was transported into the future. I wasn’t sure what to do then, so I waited. I built a house by the cavern, staying there until I could figure out how to change the events. Twenty years went by, and finally the answer came to me. The Mirror opened for me, and spoke. It told me that the damaged could be reversed. And it showed me how. So, I stepped through, and found myself in Sunnydale again. Time hadn’t passed for them...but I couldn’t say the same for me. I knew I had to go back, and I knew the Mirror would allow it. So, I did. And here I am.”
“If the Mirror transported you back to Sunnydale,” Giles figured, “then where did it send Wolf?”
“I don’t know.” the graying man said, “But I’m not looking to find out. We need to intercept Wolf before the eclipse.”
“Which is when?” Joyce asked.
“Seven days from now,” Giles said, surprised, “How did I know that?”
“The integrity of the Mirror has been compromised when it was opened.”
“But it hasn’t happened yet,” Joyce said.
“It hasn’t happened, and yet it already has,” the older Giles stated.
Joyce shook her head, “When did this become Star Trek?”
“When you both entered the Mirror, it became a part of you, I can’t explain it any other way. But these feelings of deja vous will become greater as the day of the eclipse nears. But you both must remember that history never truly exists, and can be readily changed.”
“Then,” Giles groaned, trying to stand on weak legs, “We should go now. Stop Wolf before it’s too late.” He fell back down, and rubbed his sore shoulder.
“I told you to take it easy,” the older Giles said, checking the bandage, and placing a hand on his younger self’s forehead, “You’ve been injured, and have a low grade fever. I have some things that should keep the infection down to a minimum, but you have to rest.”
“But the Mirror...”
“Can wait. The eclipse is still seven days away, and the caverns are not even a day’s travel from here. We have time, and you should concentrate on regaining your strength. You are going to need it.”
“What is your part in all this? Other than helping me save Joyce?”
The older man looked at Giles sadly, and sighed. Then he stood up and headed for the door, “I still have a part to play in all this.” Then changing the subject he added, “I’m going to escort Deborah and Meg back to Mort Grange. I’ll be back before sunset. Then we can work on a way to stop Wolf.”
The older Giles closed the door behind him, leaving Giles alone with his love.
****** Two hours had passed, and Joyce had brought him some food, and a fresh dressing for his shoulder. She sat down on the bed next to him, and smiled, “So, are you going to get some rest, or what?”
“I’m not tired, really. Sore yes. But I don’t think I could sleep just yet.”
“Mmm...” Joyce murmured, taking off the bandage and gently cleaning the closed wound, “Well, I think I can do something about that.”
She rebandaged his shoulder, after putting an poultice on the wound. It had a peppermint smell to it, but it was very effective in relieving him of the pain, she knew he must be in. Her soft hands stroked his chest, fingers twirling his graying hairs, and working their way down his stomach.
“Um...Joyce,” Giles said, a little surprised, “W-what are you doing.”
“Making you relax.”
“Um, Love,” he sighed, as her hands stopped at his crotch, “that’s not really making me relax.”
Joyce smiled, feeling him grow hard under her expert touch, “Well, maybe not now,” she said coyly, “But, I’m sure you’ll sleep well after.”
“But what if he returns?” Giles asked, not really wanting her to stop her gentle stroking.
“Mr. Giles isn’t coming back for several hours,” Joyce reasoned, “Besides...this is therapy. To make you feel better.”
“Well, this is certainly making me feel something,” he groaned, wishing he could embrace her...yet knowing that it would be too painful.
Joyce stopped her massage, and asked, “You’re not in too much pain, are you?”
“No...no. Not at all. Please don’t stop,” he urged her, feeling the heat rising in his groin.
“Well, just let me know, if this becomes too uncomfortable.” She kissed him deeply, moving her hand up and down his erection.
She moved her free hand to his chest, playing with his hardening nipples. Then she stroked his face, running her fingers through his hair, all the while her other hand continued bring him closer to the edge. Giles groaned, closing his eyes. This was definitely a good way to keep his mind off the pain, but he wanted more.
“Oh God, Joyce,” his breath came in short bursts, “I want you. I want to be in you.”
Joyce looked at her lover and asked concerned, “Are you sure? That won’t be too much for you?”
He looked intensely in her blue eyes, his voice was thick with passion, “I’m sure. I need you.”
Pulling off her dress, then her panties, Joyce carefully climbed on top of him. She was already wet from hearing the pleasure that she was giving her man, so when she guided herself onto Giles’ hardness, it was an easy fit. The more times they made love, the more they began to meld as one. Never had she had a lover that she felt so right with...so complete.
They quickly found a rhythm. Joyce moved slowly, at first, enjoying the idea of being in the driver’s seat, then speeding up as she saw the intense look of pleasure in Rupert’s eyes. He reached out with his good arm, and place it on her hip, matching her rhythm and speed as best as he could. Soon, they were both approaching climax, trying to keep their moans quiet, knowing that Philan was in the next room.
“Joyce,” he hissed, “Hurry! Come with me!”
Joyce felt her muscles tighten around Giles’ penis, as her orgasm began to rip through her. She felt her body stiffen, and little beads of sweat broke out over her. Through the haze of her pleasure, she saw that Giles was joining her. He gave a long groan, and trust his hips up into her. When it was over, they both laid on the bed, side by side, panting. Giles shoulder was still quite sore, but this made him willing to ignore the pain.
After about ten minutes, Joyce heard the soft breathing of him next to her. He had finally fallen asleep. Smiling, she got up, and dressed, “Well, I knew that would do the trick.” She kissed him lightly on the forehead, and left Giles to his dreams.
****** Philan, had been tied up for several hours after his failed attempt to bring the child to Wolf. His wrists were sore from the ropes, which the old man took great pleasure in tying too tightly. He wanted to work on getting himself free, but couldn’t with a cottage filled with people. But when the old man left, with the brat and her idiot nanny, he knew now was the best time. He moved his arms down, and managed to reach into a hidden pocket of his waistcoat. There, he pulled out a small knife. Not enough to be a real threat, but just enough to work on whittling his way through the ropes.
He knew it would take some time, but he was a patient man. With the Summers’ woman in the other room, otherwise occupied, he was free to work on releasing the bindings. And he would have several more hours to work on it, before the old man would be back. Yes...he had time.
He only hoped that his master, Wolf Fergusson, was having better luck obtaining the Mirror...
****** Wolf awoke with a splitting head ache. He should have known not to try anything with the Mirror until the time was right...but he had to try, anyway. Now, he was paying for his foolishness. He struggled against the ropes that bound him, hoping to break free, knowing that he could not.
Then he decided to sit back and wait. He had waited so many years to become whole again...what was a little more time. Besides, when he got the Mirror, time will no longer exist for him. Morag foolishly thought that by locking him away, that would keep the Mirror safe. Stupid, naive woman. She should have had him killed, if she wanted to really keep the Mirror away from him. But her kindness, and compassion will be her downfall.
So what if he was tied up, and locked away in a room, far away from his prize. He wasn’t out of the card game just yet...he still had one more hand to play, and an Ace to boot.
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