Passing The Mantle
Parts 3 and 4
by Cathryn and Mary M.
DEDICATION: This story is dedicated to Tricia Stewart, aka GylzGirl, for her generous permission to use elements from her fantastic fanfic "Agenda." You can find it here:
http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Studio/6794/BtVSfanfic/agenda.html Thank you so much!
Wesley raised an eyebrow in amusement at Willow's phrasing. "Baby Watcher": wouldn't Ethan have loved that? This afternoon had proved to be one of the most entertaining he'd ever had, though he did tend to agree with Buffy's assessment of her mother's excessive frankness - "TMI!" as one of the girls at the Meeting Place, Chloe, would have grumbled.
Wesley, as he always did, softened a little at the thought of Chloe. They had forged an instant bond when she had arrived at the Meeting Place nearly two weeks after Wesley, and it had become clear within a matter of hours that, had Travers resisted the urge to muddle things up, Wesley would have been
destined to be the Watcher who guided Chloe.
But now was not the time to be thinking of that - Wesley turned his attention back to Giles, who was saying, ". . . Council has been known to make mistakes regarding their selections for training. Ethan was one of those mistakes, though it was realized almost too late. He came dangerously close to tearing the
Council apart by setting them at each other's metaphorical throats."
Buffy blinked and looked at Wesley. "And Mr-Let's-Do-What-The-Council-Says-At-All-Costs went
*out* with him?"
"It was before I entered the Academy," Wesley replied defensively. "I had no idea what he'd almost done." [ Although,] he confessed to himself, [it probably wouldn't have changed anything. ] "Now can
we please get back to the matter at hand?"
A brief silence, then Giles said, rather grudgingly,"Wesley may be right about Ethan. He has always had
a way of knowing things, even back then."
"How long ago was it?" Buffy asked.
“About -twenty years ago, I believe," Giles answered thoughtfully. "He was fifteen or sixteen. Remarkably young for a new trainee. Most aren't chosen until after they've graduated."
"That's a long time ago," Willow said doubtfully. "You think he'll really remember anything helpful?" Buffy nodded in agreement.
Abruptly, Joyce laughed.
”Out of the mouths of babes,"she remarked."Twenty years isn't that long when you're as ancient as we are."
"Now we're left with only the difficulty of tracking him down," Wesley sighed, frantically trying to calculate how much time they could afford to spare for that task.
"No problem," Buffy answered confidently. "He teaches at UC Sunnydale."
"Demonology 101," Willow added. "It's actually *called* that."
This was clearly news to Giles, unless his gaping jaw merely indicated a desire to catch flies.
"Why didn't you tell me this?" he demanded, managing to glare at both girls simultaneously.
"Umm . . ." The girls exchanged frantic, we're-in-for-it-now looks.
"We - didn't want to bother you with it," Willow offered weakly. "I mean, you're still getting used to your new job, and he's acting like a regular teacher who doesn't have any weird plans, and this made a lot more sense when we were talking about it last week." She blushed and looked down at the floor.
Giles reddened slightly, looking ready to explode with rage. Wesley hastily intervened.
"In that case, it should be simple enough to find him." He pointed at Giles and Joyce. "There is no reason for you two not to carry out your plans, if either of you were considering cancelling," he said sternly. Giles blinked at him, amazed by the effective authority in Wesley's tone. Willow and Buffy, having been in the same position barely an hour ago, stifled giggles.
Wesley paused, taking a deep breath to stave off a feeling of sudden light-headedness. "The assassins," he continued, "will need, at minimum, a day to regroup. The next twenty-four hours should be safe enough. You girls go back to class. I will find Ethan and . . ."
He was cut off by an intense wave of dizziness, blurring his vision and making him grasp at the desk for
support as the past few days of no real sleep, very little food, and a constant adrenaline high caught up with him all at once.
Giles moved quickly, gripping Wesley's shoulders to steady him. Wesley clutched his arm, closing his eyes. He recovered after a moment and Giles released him, saying firmly, "You will do no such thing. I will take you back to my home and you will take those twenty-four hours no rest."
He was aware now that Wesley, in all likelihood, had taken very little time over the summer to see to his own well-being.
Wesley nodded in weary agreement. He could afford to take the time now; he had spent the last six weeks fighting off assassins and getting to Sunnydale, reluctant to waste time on sleep or putting together decent meals. He didn't dare fly and risk the lives of dozens of passengers - a fight could very well end up in the cockpit and break vital instruments. Instead, his travel had consisted of stowing away aboard a ship to America, which had ended up docking in Maine, then walking and hitchhiking across the country. Now that he was finally here, though, he had the luxury of a little time, enough to get some rest and eat something nourishing, perhaps even take a lengthy shower. The prospect was wonderfully appealing.
"Good," Giles nodded approvingly.
[ Look, ] Wesley thought dazedly, [ I've finally done something good enough for him. ] He shook the thought away as quickly as it had come, dismissing it as a last remaining vestige of his old resentment
toward Giles for undermining him at every step. It was completely unimportant to him now - anger that seemed years old.
"Willow, Buffy, there is no reason for you not to return to class," Giles said. "Joyce and I -"
"No," Joyce interrupted. "Rupert, go talk to Ethan. This is much more important. The sketches will keep. Plus," she added somewhat sheepishly, "I have a lot of paperwork that I should be doing."
Giles looked at her gratefully, thankful for the fact that she was expertly hiding any disappointment she might have felt; her tone held not a trace a self-sacrifice. She was, he reflected for the hundredth time, a wonderful woman.
"Thank you, Joyce," he answered, leaning over to kiss her. Buffy clutched at her throat and mimed violent dry heaves. Joyce gave her a mock glare.
"*Go*!" Looking somewhat cowed, the girls said their goodbyes and left quickly.
Joyce and Giles kissed lingeringly, murmuring their goodbyes. Wesley watched them for a moment, slightly envious at the sight of them so completely involved in each other, to the point of closing out
the rest of the world for a moment. He'd had that before, just once. With Ethan. Now he was going to
see him again, soon, and -
Wesley jerked himself sharply away from that train of thought, setting it aside as something to think about later. He cleared his throat quietly to remind the couple of his presence. Giles and Joyce broke apart, Giles rather embarrassed, Joyce merely amused.
"Right," she smiled. "Goodbye, Rupert." She touched his cheek lightly, then turned to Wesley. "Goodbye, Wesley. Rest well."
"Thank you, I will," Wesley replied. "Goodbye, Mrs. Summers."
Joyce waved goodbye with a smile and left.
**********
The drive to Giles's house was a short one, and Wesley was getting out of the car a scant fifteen minutes after Joyce's departure. He scanned the area reflexively for danger signs. Finding none, he paused and leaned in through the open car door.
"I would appreciate it," he said quietly, "if you wouldn't mention my presence in town to Ethan just yet."
Giles nodded. "I understand. He won't hear it from me."
"Thank you," Wesley answered with a relieved smile. "Good luck," he added wryly.
"Indeed," Giles muttered, a spark of dry humor in his eyes. Wesley chuckled and slammed the Citroen's door shut.
Giles lingered for a moment, watching Wesley enter his house and listening to the old car's little engine putter away as he braced himself for a confrontation with Ethan. Then, reluctantly, he pulled back onto the road and headed for the university.
Part 4
As the water pelted over his soaped skin, Wesley let the last memories of Ethan run over him...
'This is it then, Wesley? You're running off to America?'Ethan demanded as he glared at him. His
brown eyes turning black with fury.'You're letting that blasted Council run your life?'
Wesley turned to face Ethan.'You knew that I was a Watcher when you first met me, Ethan. I must go
where the Council orders me to go, even if it is America.'
'Why should they send you to America? And to do what? Send you for more schooling? Research more demons?
Watch over the Slayer?'Ethan demanded sarcastically. 'Can't be the last. Slayer's already has a Watcher.'
Wesley cleared his throat.'Actually, it is the last, Ethan. I am to be the Watcher for the Slayers. Both of them.'
'I thought the Slayer already has a Watcher,'Ethan interrupted. 'Why the bloody hell is the Council sending her another Watcher? Is he dead?'
Startled, Wesley blinked.'No, no. Not that I know of. But he might as well be, considering. Rupert Giles defied the rules of the Tento de Crucimentum. He betrayed the Council by telling the Slayer of the test, and so he was releived of his duty to the Slayer. Actually, both of them.'
'And so the Council decided to replace Rupert Giles with you,' Ethan said with a shake of his head.'And
who was the bloody Council lackwited dolt that suggested that you be the one to go to America?'
Wesley stood up, affronted.'Travers is not an idiot-'
'Quentin Travers is the fool that suggested that you go to America and become the Watcher over the
Slayer?' Ethan demanded angrily. 'It was Travers that brought your name up?'
'Yes, he said that I was the most promising of his students-'
'Oh, bloody hell. Pet, open your eyes! Can't you see that your former mentor's using you for his own
political agenda?'Ethan said through gritted teeth.'He wants to be the Head of Council. And to fill the
Council with his cronies and by getting rid of you and the rest of the old Council-'
'And you're imagining things! He would never do anything like that! The Council is beyond all
that!' Wesley said angrily. 'Grandfather and Travers were right. You're only trying to hold me back-trying
to use me-'
'So then Travers and your Grandfather are up to this. I'm the reason why they want to ship you of to the bloody Colonies,aren't I?' Ethan growled at him. Wesley was about to say something, but Ethan cut him off. 'And you're letting them rule your life, Tiger.'
Wesley shook his head as he tried desperately to make Ethan understand.'No, no. They're not trying to rule
my life. They're giving me a chance, Ethan. A chance to prove myself worthy of their training. A chance to
become what I always wanted to do, become The Watcher of the Generation.'
'Then far be it from me to make you refuse Travers and Council given chances. In fact, I think that I wish
you all the best,' Ethan sneered at Wesley.'If you're going where that Slayer is, you'll need it. More if
you're to have two of them.'
Startled, Wesley stared at him, his mouth agape.'You know the Slayers and their Watcher? How do you
know them? What do you know about them?'
'I know of the Slayer and her Watcher, Rupert Giles. But I know more about that Hellmouth they live
on,'Ethan said to him curtly.'I know that town's reputation and its inhabitants very well, Tiger.'
Ethan never noticed that Wesley saw that flash of tenderness in his eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
[I should have pressed Ethan more about Sunnydale and its protectors] thought Wesley as he hung up the
towel then looked at himself in the mirror. Dark circles and fading bruises decorated his face. His
face disappeared from the mirror as he saw Ethan's face...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ethan's jaw tightened as he smiled sardonically.'And now you'll know them, too. A last few words of advice, pet. Ones that you should heed. From all the things that I heard about that town and the people there, especially the Slayer and her Watcher...If you try and get between Buffy and Giles, you'll regret it. Rumour is that she made a deal with a vampire to rescue her Watcher while her boyfriend was trying to send the world into Hell...'
Wesley was about to say something when Ethan continued ruthlessly on,'If that's true, then you're a fool
if you think she'll accept you just on the Council's say so. Even more, it seems she's not like the other
girls, the Destined. She has a mind of her own. And she's more than just the Slayer. She's Buffy
Summers, the Vampire Slayer.'
'Well, of course she is,'Wesley said, exasperated and confused, as he looked at Ethan.'The Slayer is Buffy
Summers-'
'No, you still don't understand,' Ethan said with a shake of his head. 'But you will when you meet
her. Take whatever's yours, tiger. Or leave whatever you want. I'll move out soon-'
Wesley shook his head. 'But this is your flat-and I won't be back for some-'
'You'll be back before you know it, pet. And you'll need a place to stay when you come back with your
head barely attached and sticking out of your bloody arse. Compliments of Buffy,' Ethan said
tiredly.'Be seeing you around, pet.'
With that, Ethan left the flat...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Wesley stepped away from the mirror and slowly put down the hair dryer then he made his way to the guest
room. [Ethan was right. I should have listened him. She did send me packing, Ethan.]
Lying in his back and staring a the ceiling, Wesley fought sleep as thoughts ran through his head. [And she and Giles taught me what you tried so hard to teach me. That the Council was not infallible. And Council decisions were not what the world revolves around.]
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sighing, Joyce approached her gallery. [Well, that certainly was a productive lunch hour. No lunch, no
sketches, and no sex. And probably no sex for some time. Down girl. Since when did you turn into a sex
maniac?]
[Since you fell hard for a certain gentlemanly English Watcher that looks great in a pair of tight jeans] teased an inner voice in her head. [And as soon as he lays those hazel eyes at you, all you can think of is having his arms around you. Then shoving him on top of the nearest car and having your way with him.]"Hey, people! I'm back! Did the new shipment arrive?"
A brunette popped out from behind a sculpture. She grinned at her boss slyly. "Hey, Joyce! Back from lunch already? What happened? You didn’t get a chance to look at the sketches he made? Or did you make too many designs on him?”
“Maddy! You should speak to me like that!” Joyce said with a mock frown. Her good friend and assistant,
Maddy merely grinned at her. “If you must know, lunch was cancelled due to an unexpected shipment that
Rupert had to catalog.”
“Oh, damn. That means that I can’t hit you up for that raise and those extra vacation days that I wanted,”Maddy sighed dramatically.”Now I have to wait until he makes you more pliable to my will later.”
“Maddy!” Joyce gasped as she tried to control a gurgle of laughter. ”He does not make me pliable!”
Maddy winked at her. ”You’ve never seen you after you’ve come back from lunch with him. I swear, I think
that I should bottle the stuff that Mr. Stoodgy Stud-muffin has and sell it. And on that note, here’s the inventory of the East Asian Art shipment that just arrived.”
“Hmm, are you trying to impress me with your diligent worker act now that you’ve let me know how I act after I have lunch with Rupert?” Joyce asked with a laugh as she took the keyboard.
“I am always a diligent worker,” Maddy said with a sniff.”Hi! Can I help you?”
Joyce laughed as she turned to look at the man walking towards them. Her laughter died as she studied the middle aged man coming towards her and her friend. The man was carrying a large briefcase as he approached slowly. ”Yes, I am here looking for Joyce Summers.”
“I am Joyce Summers,” Joyce said as she put on a polite smile. There was something about the man that was giving her, what Buffy called, ‘the wiggins’. He looked normal enough, nicely dressed. His sleek, black hair cut stylishly, his deep purple eyes framed with crows feet. But for some reason, he distressed her. [Maybe it’s because you’re still a mite upset to find out that there are demon assassins after Wesley. And pretty soon after your daughter and lover.] Joyce shook herself. ”Can I help you?”
The man didn’t answer her, and Joyce grew more distressed. She might not be a fighting member of the Sunnydale Demon Fighting Team, but she was an active member of the Research and Anti-Bait Team. If
this man was a threat, there was no way in hell he was going to use her to get to Buffy and Rupert.
Nonchalantly putting herself between the man and the sculpture that Maddy popped out from behind, Joyce
repeated her question.”Can I help you, sir?”
The man smiled as he approached her. He put down his briefcase and took out something bundled up in cloth. “Yes, I am Adam Achala, and my employer heard of you expertise and reputation in estimating Asian
artifacts and he would like you to estimate a certain artifact for him before he sells it.”
Joyce gasped as the cloth unraveled and revealed an delicate porcelain statue of a woman. She heard Maddy
squeak as the man moved to give it to her. “It’s beautiful. Maddy, look at this intricate design on the base! Look at this detail on her sari! And these jewels in her eyes! Definitely amethysts. This has to be a religious icon.”
“Actually, my employer is not really sure,”Adam admitted with a cough.”It was found in the area between India and Tibet. The local villages said that she is supposedly the goddess Dhara, a local and benign version of Kali. A sect of worshippers that were huge in the 1400’s, but now are no more.”
“I see,”Joyce said as she turned the statue around her hands. The woman smiled at her as her jeweled eyes winked in the sun. The pose was that of a woman reaching out to embrace someone. A loved one. And yet, despite the beauty of the statue, Joyce felt herself grow cold. She had not heard of a recent archeological expedition to India or Tibet.”And your employer is?”
“I cannot say. He wishes to be anonymous,” Adam replied. Bells started ringing in Joyce’s head as well as a faint wave of relief. This man wasn't a threat to he daughter and Rupert, but he was a different kind of threat. One that she didn't like, but could handle. ”Can you give me an estimate of the statue’s worth? I can leave it with you for-“
“Where was this statute found? Between India and Tibet, you said?” Joyce demanded as her hands held on to the statue. Adam nodded.”And how did your employer get this beautiful statue? Because I hadn't heard of a recent expidition there-”
"It was a privately funded expedition, Ms. Summers. Due to security reasons,"Adam Achala said smoothly as he looked at her. He never noticed that she stiffened slightly. ”I would rather not say where the exact expedition was, and my employer wishes it no to be know. But I can assure you that it was not stolen in
any way.”
“Forgive me if I have a problem with that, sir,” Joyce said as she gave the man back her statue. ”In my experience, the only people that require an estimate for a statue are the ones gained it illegally or the ones that already have background information on it and need a second evaluation. Please leave. Special Creations does not deal with questionable material.”
Adam Acathla glared at her.”I can provide you with the appropriate documentation if you so desire, madam.”
“Too late, sir,” Joyce said coolly. ”If you knew my reputation, the you would have brought the proper documentation with you in the first place. Good day.”
The man glared at her, then walked stiffly away. Maddy looked at his retreating back, then at Joyce.”You
really think he stole that gorgeous piece?”
“I have no clue, but better to be safe than sorry,” Joyce sighed. ”I want no part in estimating an object of questionable background. And I definitely don’t want to find out that the statue was possibly a precious artifact stolen from a dig, temple or a grave. And now on a different note, I think that we should go and inventory that new shipment we just got.”
Maddy made a huge sigh.”So when is you next date with the Stoodgy Stud-muffin, boss?”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Adam Achala spoke angrily into his cell phone.”The woman did not take it. She thinks that it is stolen goods. I know that, Elder. I know that it is necessary for it to be placed within her home for it to spy upon her child. But she refuses to take it.”
Adam listened, then barked out a harsh laugh. “By Dhara, what a problem. The time that we need need
an unethical art dealer, we can’t get one. What should be done now?”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It had been a bloody lousy day. His students were idiot savants and his peers were annoying imbicles. [As bad as those fools back in the Watcher's Network] thought Ethan as entered his office at UC Sunnydale. [What a hell of a day. What could make it go any worse?]
He strode over to the small window his office had and looked at the peaceful scene of the campus. All the
students milling about like busy little bees, not wondering or knowing that they're all living on top of a Hellmouth. Then his eyes caught the sight of a small bird flying through the air...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
'Ethan! Look! Bird! Flying!'giggled a voice. Ethan looked at the little sparrow flying through the air, then at the girl next to him. She was beautiful, her purple eyes shining as they took in the sights of London. The wind blew her dark brown hair around her face.'Small bird!'
Ethan squeezed her hand.'Yeah, Sharna. A small bird. Pretty isn't it?'
Sharna smiled back at him.'No small bird at home. Small pretty bird is nice.'
'Yeah, a small pretty bird is nice to look at,'Ethan said.'Now come on, we've got twenty minutes to see the Tower before His Royal Highness of the Pain in the Arse, Wilson wants you back for your English lesson.'
'Must hurry,'Sharna said as she grabbed Ethan's hand. 'You teach me too? More bad words?'
Remembering the ear blistering speech that Wilson gave him for teaching Sharna how to curse in English,
Ethan shook his head.'Not today, Sharna. I've got the blasted demon defense class to take. Come on, I'll
race you to the curb.'
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A horn of a passing car honked through the air, the bird flew away and Ethan was brought back to the present. He shook his head. [Sharna...it's been years since I remembered that day in London. They still haven't paid for what the did to you and Wilson. You never deserved it...]
Ethan turned to look at the pile of unmarked papers on his desk. The perfect ending of a miserable day.Nothing could make it worse, could it? As he sat down, he heard a knock on the door. ”If you have a soul, come in.”
Ethan dropped his pen. His question was just answered. ”Ripper.”