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Giles watched in horror as the dark-clad figure wrapped its long arms around the tiny girl and bore her to the ground. Her companion struggled to his feet, wavering slightly. Giles wrenched his good arm from Joyce's grasp, and started outside, stake at the ready. His Watcher's drive to support and protect the Slayer outweighed all logic and reason. Joyce's scream just managed to cut through the years of training and indoctrination. "RUPERT! DON'T GO OUTSIDE, FOR GOD'S SAKE, PLEASE!" He hesitated long enough for him to realize that he would be of little help in his present condition. He stopped just inside the threshold, shaking.
The dark figure exploded into a powdery white-gray ash, revealing the slight frame of Amanda, triumphantly holding a stake above her chest. Behind her, just outside the shaft of light from the doorway, two more figures were grappling. Her companion stepped into the light, and Giles instantly surmised him to be Amanda's Watcher. The man watched the two struggling figures intently, watching for an opening. Amanda sprang to her feet and made to join the fray, but her Watcher held her back. Without a word, he instructed her to wait and watch.
It took mere minutes for one of the figures to combust and dissipate. The other figure rose slowly, dusting himself off. Giles looked at him in open-mouthed shock as the man turned towards him. Joyce reacted just as strongly, shrinking behind Giles, a look of horror on her face.
She was the first to recover enough to speak. "Wolf Fergusson! I didn't get a good look at you back at Mort Grange, but I know who you are! What are you doing here... and why are you fighting vampires?"
The Watcher paled when he realized who his partner in battle had been. He slid a protective arm around his Slayer, and asked, "How did you get here so quickly? Father Ramsey said you were at the mansion!"
"You spoke with Ramsey?" Giles voice took on a sharp, distrustful edge. "Did he send you here?"
"Aye. We go where we are needed." Pride filled the man's voice. "It seemed we were needed here tonight, my friend."
"Indeed." Giles looked thoughtful for a moment, then came to a decision. "Well, let's not stand out here waiting for more vampires to arrive." He deliberately avoided a clear invitation to enter. Something was nagging at the back of his mind... almost like the Slayer's sixth sense. One of them was a vampire. He could almost smell it. He could see by Amanda's tense shoulders that she felt it, too. Her eyes searched the shadows for another unseen opponent.
The Watcher smiled and relaxed slightly, then courteously escorted his wary charge towards the door. They entered without hesitation, and Giles sighed with relief. Joyce realized why he had been so cautious as the third figure hovered uncertainly just beyond the steps. Giles watched with some satisfaction as the Watcher and Slayer reacted with dismay. They had been fighting alongside the enemy without knowing it.
Instead of escaping into the night, Wolf hung his head. He shuddered violently for a moment, then spoke so quietly that Giles had to strain to hear. "Ye've discovered what I am. The horror I am. Dear God in Heaven, how I wish it were not so!" He almost sobbed the last words.
Something wasn't right in Joyce's mind. This ancestor of hers was not behaving as she expected Wolf Fergusson to behave. Was he schizophrenic... or was there something else? "Rupert, this isn't the same Wolf we saw at Mort Grange. I don't know why I know, I just know."
"I think you're right, Joyce." He raised his voice to address the figure outside. "Mr. Fergusson, I believe we need to talk."
The human inhabitants exchanged introductions as they arranged themselves in a rough semi-circle just inside the door of the cottage. Joyce and Giles sat in two chairs, a quilt across their laps. Amanda lounged, cross-legged and comfortable, on the throw rug, rolled in a thick blanket. Her Watcher, who introduced himself as Michael Barnes, hovered just inside the doorway. Wolf stood alone outside, hands in pockets, the very picture of misery.
"Go on, Wolf, tell us your story." Joyce pulled the quilt she and Giles were sharing closer around herself. She still felt weak, but she also knew his story held the key to the mystery of the mirror, and she had to hear it.
"'Tis a pitiful tale, be sure of it. As you may know, I was th' black sheep a'most from birth. I let bitterness rule me ways, and ye see before ye the result. I made to steal the secrets of the Looking Glass from its rightful place. I seduced me own kinsman's wife... then deserted she an' our babe like the coward I was. Gussie never deserved that, for he was an honorable, though temperamental, man.
"One night, I determined to take the mirror for my own. Instead of revealing its secrets to me... it revealed me own secrets, instead. Me own black heart, my pride, my hatred... the thing rejected me at every turn. I tried to cast a powerful spell to force my will upon it, and it struck back. I never expected..."
He paused suddenly, overwhelmed by the memories. Something in Joyce's heart broke for him, though he was the enemy, and very likely the sole reason for her and Giles being transported there.
Wolf controlled himself with visible effort, and continued. "It rejected every dark, loathsome thing that was in me, but yet, I was of the blood. I felt as though I were being torn asunder, and, of a truth, I was. Somehow, I became two... a dark shadow, and a man, all at once."
Giles gasped suddenly. "The journal! In one of Morag's journals, she chronicled those events, from her perspective. Was that when you became a vampire?"
Wolf nodded. "I beheld myself in the glass... suddenly transformed into the most malformed creature I had ever seen! But, something went wrong... I know not what. Instead of being a soulless demon, I was fraught with remorse, pity, and even empathy for the ones I had hated so fervently. And my other half... he had the appearance of being human, but in fact was the devil's own creation. He seeks only power, position, and cruel revenge... where I would only wish to see the light of day, and walk again as other men."
The Watcher snorted in disbelief. "A vampire with a soul? Do you wish us to believe that fanciful tale?"
Giles rose up suddenly to disagree, winced as pain reminded him of his wound, and dropped quickly back into his chair. "It isn't fanciful, my friend. I have met such a creature... created by a Gypsy curse."
To his credit, the Watcher didn't scoff. "Aye, it would be a right and true curse, to be trapped in the nightmare of blood thirst with a conscience..." The full impact of his own words struck him, and he turned towards Wolf with horror in his eyes. "By the First Slayer, man, if this is true, how have you not gone mad?"
Wolf laughed bitterly. "I know not. But I do know this... without me at his side, my other self will never be whole. And the longer he exists in this soulless state, the more evil and hellish he becomes. We must stop him... force him to stand before the mirror with me, and become one again. It is the only way to end this madness."
Joyce shuddered uncomfortably, and Giles moved to place his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, enjoying the added warmth. There was something bothering her about Wolf's story. "What happens if one of you is hurt... or killed? What would happen to the other Wolf?"
Giles looked at her in surprise. He hadn't even thought about that possibility.
The vampire shrugged his shoulders, a seemingly unconcerned gesture. "Again, I know not. I fear that what happens to one would happen to the other. I have no wish to discover the truth."
"It was good I dinna stake ye, then." Amanda spoke suddenly. "I do not stake creatures with souls, even if they be vampires." She looked at her mentor as she spoke, seeking his confirmation.
Barnes smiled, his features softening as he addressed her. "No, lass, you do not stake creatures with souls. You're quite right."
****** The knife kept slipping in Gussie's numb fingers. He had cut himself several times trying to sever his bonds, and he knew that once the feeling returned to his hands, he would be in pain. Nevertheless, he continued to work the small penknife against the rough hemp holding him prisoner.
Malcolm spoke quietly to Deborah and Meg, calming them in soothing tones. Morag was limp, exhausted by the ordeal and drained by her pregnancy, but appeared to be unhurt.
Wolf fumed silently. He had let a foolish old vicar get the best of him. He was furious with Father Ramsey, but far more angry at himself. The mirror was most likely in Ramsey's possession now. That would make his job more difficult. He would have to track the Mirror down and re-capture Meg before he could use it. He sat, lost in his own plots and plans, unaware that Gussie was freeing himself by inches.
Malcolm and Gussie exchanged quick glances, and suddenly Malcolm said, "Mistress Meg, your mother has need of a glass of water. Could you manage to get one for her?"
"Oh, yes, I can reach the dipper now, Malcolm." The child drew herself up proudly. "I'm almost eight! I'm a big girl now!" She skipped away, and her light footsteps receded away down the hall towards the kitchen.
With a sudden effort, Gussie broke through the last frayed strands of rope and stood. Before Wolf could react, Gussie strode over and knocked his estranged cousin unconscious with a well-placed left hook. He turned to Malcolm and nodded. "Thank ye, Malcolm, for sending Meg from the room. I dinna want her to see me strike Wolf, much as he deserved it."
"My pleasure, Master Fergusson." He waited patiently as Gussie freed him from his bonds. When he finished, the butler stood, his dignity unruffled by his imprisonment. "And now, though I fear it will be futile, I must try and stop Ramsey from misusing the Mirror."
As he untied Deborah's hands carefully, Gussie pondered Malcolm's words. "Ye 've been retired from their service for these thirty years, old friend. Why immerse yourself in their affairs now? Let the fool try his tricks... the Mirror will have nowt to do with him."
Malcolm shook his head sadly. "If only it were that simple. You see, Ramsey has fey blood in him. It isn't certain what the Mirror might do."
****** Awakening with a start, the older Giles sat up and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't believe he had dozed off. "Fool!" He addressed himself aloud. "Here you are, tracking a wayward Watcher, and what do you do? Sit down and fall asleep! And sleep 'till dark!" He stretched and yawned, expecting to find stiff muscles from sitting slumped against a tree in the middle of the woods for God knows how long. To his surprise, he felt well rested and energized. His head was clear, and he immediately saw the path the carriage had taken. Ramsey would be easy to track.
He jumped to his feet, not willing to question his good fortune, and mounted his horse to continue his pursuit. Ramsey's carriage was heading for the caves. Just before he rode away, he carefully replaced the opal earring in his ear and caressed it gently. "Soon, my love. Soon we'll be together again."
****** Robert couldn't think of anything safe to say, so he just stood there and looked at Buffy... or rather, looked down at her. The familiarity of the scene made him smile unconsciously. He was quite used to her glowering up at him like that. In his family, his big sister was famous for her glares.
The smile only made Buffy madder. She grabbed his tie and pulled his face down until it was nearly level with hers. "Stop smirking and answer the question! Exactly. Who. Are. You?!!!" She emphasized each word with a jerk, and Robert became a bit concerned for the health and well being of his neck..
Xander's voice piped up from across the library. "My money's on Star Wars."
Oz frowned and shook his head. "I would've said Batman or Spiderman."
Willow looked back and forth at them, wondering if they'd lost their minds.
"I think Superman's a little too blond. I still say Star Wars." Xander accompanied his words with a decisive nod.
"Wanna bet?"
"How much?"
"Twenty?"
Wesley cleared his throat, trying one last time to contain the situation. "Xander, Oz, idle speculation isn't getting us any closer to solving this mystery..."
The two young men ignored him completely.
"Twenty it is, Oz-man. I'm sticking with Star Wars."
"Done." Oz turned calmly to Angel. "You can't play, cause you know already."
Angel growled, but said nothing.
Willow started shaking her hands in frustration. No one paid her any attention until she shrieked, "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT?"
Xander looked at her in shock. "You didn't see? I thought everyone saw."
"Saw WHAT?"
Buffy was so intrigued by the exchange that she almost forgot about Robert. Almost. He tried to slide his tie out of her grasp, but she tightened her fingers before he could free himself. "Don't think I forgot about you, buster." She turned and fixed her two insane guy friends with an icy Slayer stare. "Okay, spill it. Saw what?"
Oz replied in his calmest voice, "Jammies."
"WHAT?"
"Kid's clothes. Pajamas. Sweats. With all the coolest action heroes on 'em."
Xander added, "Y'know, like Underoos. I liked Spiderman best. The whole web thing was chill."
Willow started giggling hysterically. It was all to much.
Buffy didn't laugh. She pulled Robert's face back to her own. "Okay, which one?"
"C'mon, Bob. You get to settle the bet."
"Shut up, Xander." Buffy's tone took on a hint of impatience.
Robert swallowed nervously. "I don't suppose you'd accept that telling you could endanger the future, would you?"
"Nope. Try again."
"Yeah, tell us. I've got money riding on this."
"Shut up, Xander." Buffy's eyes never left Robert's, but her voice was taking on a dangerous edge. Xander shut up.
Robert appealed to Wesley with stricken eyes. Wesley shrugged and raised his hands in a helpless gesture.
Robert sighed and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he murmured, "Star Wars."
Xander's shout of triumph echoed through the halls.
****** One look at Giles' tired face convinced Joyce that the conversation had gone on long enough. She also knew she probably didn't look any better. They all needed rest. Barnes became gently solicitous when he realized that both of his hosts were not well, and offered to stand watch for the remainder of the night.
Joyce shook her head. "That won't be necessary. Wolf, would you be willing to stand guard for us for a couple of nights? You can hide in the cellar under the barn when daylight comes. As soon as Rupert and I get our strength back, we're going to try and stop Father Ramsey and your other half from misusing the Mirror. And, hopefully, find our way home."
Wolf's face brightened significantly at her request. "It would be me pleasure, and a right honor, milady. And thank you." Without another word, he disappeared into the night.
Giles opened his mouth to speak, but Joyce stopped him with a hand on his lips. "Now, Rupert, don't give me any Watcher talk about not trusting vampires, please. If he's here, he can't be causing anyone else any mischief, and he can't get in without being invited. We, however can move freely during the day, and can guard ourselves quite easily then."
He smiled beneath her fingers. "I was merely going to compliment you on your strategic thinking, my love."
Joyce blushed at the endearment, unaccustomed to hearing him use one in public. She smiled back at him, and said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes.
Amanda volunteered to find bedclothes for herself and her Watcher, and set about making the second bedroom suitable for sleeping. Barnes made no comment when Giles carefully helped Joyce into bed, but he raised an eyebrow when he realized that Giles intended to sleep with her. The two men stared at each other for a moment, Barnes' face disapproving, Giles' expression warning him to mind his own business. Finally, the Watcher looked away and went into the other room. Giles sighed in relief. He was in no mood to defend his relationship with Joyce.
Joyce watched the exchange without comment. When they were finally alone, she smiled wryly. "I gather our cohabitation did not sit well with our new friend?"
Giles snorted. "Victorian sensibilities were... are... easily offended. Think nothing of it."
Joyce began to giggle. She contained herself long enough to say, "If he says anything tomorrow, just ask him where HE slept last night. There's only one bed in there."
Giles grinned at her, amazed at her ability to rise above any circumstance and find humor there. "Excellent point, my love. I shall keep that in mind."
After he stoked the fireplace, he stripped down to his undergarment, moving quickly to avoid the rapidly chilling air. Even a roaring fire couldn't completely eliminate the dampness of the room. He slid under the covers beside her and slid his arms around her, sighing in happy relief as her warmth engulfed him.
He held her for a long while, silently thanking God for sparing her life. Weariness settled in as soon as he began to relax. Joyce was already asleep, breathing easily, her breath warming his shoulder. He tightened his grip momentarily, hugging her to him. He had come so close to losing her. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, to ask her. As he slid into slumber, he vowed he would take care of all of it in the morning.
****** As money changed hands behind her, Buffy stared at Robert in disbelief. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. She released his tie, and he straightened gratefully. His back was beginning to ache from being bent over. He smiled a shy, uncertain smile at his big sister, trying not to laugh at her shocked face.
Finally, she managed to stammer, "You're... you... Mom, and Giles? You're... I'm... we're... they, you, oh, God."
He did chuckle then. "Hello, sis."
Buffy sat down heavily, ignoring the fact that there was no chair behind her, and hit the floor with a loud thump. She put her head in her hands and moaned.
Wesley squatted beside her, a bit concerned by her reaction. "Now, now, Buffy, don't lose sight of our goal... we must continue to try to decipher the Mirror's secrets. And, as Robert said, he is from a possible future. Don 't fixate on what might be. We must concentrate on what is. We can only effect the present and the future. Only your mother and Mr. Giles can effect the past, and Robert... well, I'm not quite sure how he fits in."
"I'm not quite sure how I fit in, either." Robert dropped his pseudo-American accent the instant his true identity was revealed. It was almost a relief... he hadn't used it in years, and he was pretty rusty at it. "I was originally sent to assist Mum and Dad, as the diaries of Morag Fergusson indicated. How I ended up here, I don't quite know."
Willow spoke up. "Buffy got the magic stone too near the mirror. It must've knocked you off course."
Robert patted his pockets absentmindedly. "I have the second stone here, somewhere... oh where is it?"
He began a more careful search, dismay spreading across his face as he realized the stone was gone. "Oh, no."
"Maybe there's only one stone. Maybe you have to take this one back. Maybe it disappeared when we pulled you in, 'cause we already had one..."
"Willow! You're giving me a headache." Buffy spoke from behind her hands. "Not that I didn't already have one..."
Robert straightened his tie and took his glasses off. Retrieving a spotless white handkerchief from his pocket, he proceeded to polish each lens with practiced ease. The action was so familiar that everyone in the room gasped, except Buffy, who had her eyes closed. He stopped and looked around at them with a questioning look.
Willow was the first to speak. "You... you look just like Giles when you do that. Except younger. And blonder."
Xander shuddered. "It's too deja vous for me. I want Giles back. The regular Giles, not the old one or the new one."
Robert tilted his head and asked, "The Old Giles? You, mean, you've seen the alternate future version of my father? How extraordinary!" At Wesley's surprised look, he added, "It was in the journal."
"Of course. Ah, may I ask, did... does... uhm, will your journal... appear to be fluid? Change?" He took the diary from Angel and handed it to Robert. "You see, ours is not static. It changes with every action that Mrs. Summers and Mr. Giles take. It's terribly confusing. We don't know what to do to bring them back, and we've had several bad scares... the journal told of the two of them dying in the past. But then, the story has changed, again and again, as we read it. Highly irregular."
Robert shook his head as he scanned the last few pages. "No, I don't remember our version being fluid. Perhaps my time is too far removed from the sphere of influence... the Mirror had been quiescent for several decades when we activated it. Hmmm.... it seems to be incomplete. There are at least eight or ten more pages in the current version. And before you ask..."
Everyone in the room froze with their mouths open.
"I can't tell you how the story ends. Not that I don't want to, but I've never read it myself. I wasn't permitted to. They only briefed me on the particulars of my trip into the past."
Buffy got to her feet. "Who wouldn't let you?"
"The Council. They have the diaries and the Mirror under lock and key."
Buffy made fists and her knuckles whitened as she clenched them tightly. "The Council." She spat the words out like they were distasteful. "Figures they'd be in the middle of this mess."
Robert looked at Wesley, surprised at her reaction. Wesley shook his head as if to say, 'not now.'
Robert felt obliged to defend the organization that had educated him. "They are correct, you see. I am a direct descendant of Morag and Wolf, and they couldn't send me back with full knowledge of the future, or I might be tempted to change things in some way. Better to let things unfold as they should, to ensure that the existing future remains intact."
"Existing future? Isn't that an oxymoron?" Willow giggled as she said it.
Robert smiled at her warmly. "More of a conundrum, actually."
Wesley decided to take charge of the situation. "Robert, as pleasant as this is, we must send you on your way. Please tell us how to do so. Willow, I fear you'll need to give the stone to Robert. If he goes back without it, it may damage the time line. Buffy, we need to continue our research. Oz, Xander, please assist her. Let's move, people, shall we?"
****** Giles awoke to the welcome sight of morning sunlight streaming through the east windows. He lay on his side with Joyce spooned warmly behind him. It felt wonderful. He turned gently, rearranging her arm across his waist, and looked down at her tousled golden hair. Yes, he would tell her as soon as she awoke.
He watched her for what seemed like forever, enjoying the highlights the sun brought out in her hair. Her face was relaxed and peaceful, an almost-smile gracing her lips. Long lashes lay against her cheek. His heart twisted with a love so strong it was almost painful. Finally, he couldn't resist, and he rested his cheek against her hair and whispered, "I love you, Joyce Margaret McAlister."
She stirred with a slight groan and then snuggled closer to him. Her voice was muffled, but she replied, "And I love you, Rupert Giles... what is your middle name, by the way? Just so we're even."
"I'm almost afraid to tell you. My parents had a strange sense of tradition."
She smiled up at him sleepily. "I promise not to laugh."
"All right, then, don't say I didn't warn you." He kissed her forehead before continuing. "My birth papers say, 'Rupert Allen Geoffrey Giles, Junior."
"You're a Junior? Well, that's not such an awful name, really. It's kind of nice."
"You wouldn't think it was nice, if you were called 'Raggie, Junior' all through school."
"It's better than Rupie."
"Marginally, yes." He kissed her again. "But, I wanted to talk to you about something other than my unfortunate school years."
"And I wanted to do something other than talk." She leaned towards him and nibbled his ear gently.
His breath caught as tingles of pleasure shot through him. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to focus on his intended subject. He managed, barely, to continue. "Love, I think you'll want to hear this first."
She pouted a little, reminding him of Buffy. "Okay, but I won't forget."
"Oh, I won't allow you to. But this is important." He shifted until he could look into her eyes. "Joyce, darling, in just a few days, this will all be over. At least, I pray so. We will either set things right, and return to our own time, or be trapped here for who knows how long. Either way, I wanted... I need to... uhm, ask you, tell you..." He stopped, frustrated with his inability to speak his mind clearly. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing, as I'm sure you know, but I wanted... you to know that I love you. Truly and forever."
"I love you, too, Rupert. Truly and forever, whichever forever we have."
He couldn't resist kissing her gently. "And, I wanted you to know, that I don't take our... physical... relationship lightly. I mean, I would never take advantage of you... or, or disrespect you in any way. If things had been different, I'm sure we would have reached this... uhm... eventually, but we've been thrust into extraordinary circumstances, and, well, I just don't want you to think... I want to ah... ask you..."
"Yes."
"Yes? Yes what?"
"Yes, I will marry you."
"Wh-what? You will? Just like that? Oh, love... and, and I had a rather convincing argument put together."
Joyce laughed softly. "You silly man. You don't have to convince me. I knew the moment we discussed having a baby that I would gladly spend the rest of my life with you."
"Yes, well, we never quite got back to talking about the baby, did we?"
"We got side-tracked." She kissed him slowly, languidly, and he felt his body respond with surprising swiftness.
He pulled back and looked at her again. "Joyce, do you really think you are pregnant?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think maybe I am."
"Oh, love..." He was overwhelmed with emotion, the strongest being protective tenderness. "I love you."
"So, maybe we should get married really soon, just in case I am. We already are pushing the boundaries of polite society, here. If we get stuck here, I don't want our child to be born with the stigma of being illegitimate."
"And, if we are successful in returning home? What then?"
"Then..." She kissed him sweetly. "We'll just have to get married again. After we have a long talk with Buffy, that is."
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