Part 7
“I can’t help feeling that something’s going to go wrong,” muttered
Toby, pacing nervously.
“That would be the influence of the Thesulac,” reasoned Giles. “It
induces paranoia. Try to ignore it.”
“*Bad* feeling about this.”
“What exactly is going on here?” enquired a new and very familiar voice.
Toby groaned. Because this would, indeed, come under the heading of ‘Everything going wrong.’
“Mr. President,” he began, “I can explain. But - I thought you were with
Leo?”
“Yes,” agreed the President, “Leo has found an unusually large number of
unusually boring things that seem to require my urgent attention today. But
then I was distracted by the foul odour coming from the lower echelons of this
building.” He looked around. “And now I find an unusually large number of
complete strangers doing….” He broke off. “What *are* they doing?”
“That is, of course, a perfectly valid question, Mr. President.” Toby
searched through his vast databank of good excuses as well as downright lies.
He failed to hit a jackpot.
“Why does it have to smell?” he asked of Giles and the world in general.
“Why?”
“We’ll just blame the herbs, shall we,” grumbled Giles. “I thought there
was *security*.”
“Security?” repeated the president, in calm tones. “In the White House,
which is what this is, The President of the
Giles turned to Toby. Toby turned to a newly-arrived and breathless Leo.
“Mr President!” said Leo heavily. “I see you’re – here.” He looked about
the room. And then at the President. “With everyone.”
“Somebody tell me what’s going on before I have the whole damn lot of
you arrested for just bugging me!” ordered Bartlet.
Leo bit the bullet. “We have a demon,” he admitted. “I should add at
this point that I’m not on drugs.”
Noting Xander’s opening mouth,
“A *demon*. What does that mean? It’s code for something, right?”
“Yes sir, it’s code for – a demon.”
“We have a demon, Sir,” supported Toby, fidgeting a little.
“You mean a physical manifestation of a malignant supernatural being?”
questioned the President.
“Precisely,” said Giles.
“So why isn’t Fitzwallace in here with half the
“I talk to Fitzwallace and he recommended these people,” replied Leo, in
a tone that suggested this was a perfectly reasonable course of action.
“Well of course. I mean, Fitzwallace probably doesn’t have one of these
little glowy balls.” The president picked up and suspiciously inspected the Orb
of Ramjarin, before tossing it from one hand to the other. Giles winced.
“Excuse me – Mr. President – that is an Orb of Ramjarin. It may prove difficult to replace if broken,
and it’s a necessary requirement for the successful removal of the Thesulac.”
“Is this one of those situations that sounds stranger than it is because
of my inexperience with the military?” asked the president, ignoring Giles and
focusing his attention on Leo.
“In a manner of speaking, Sir.” Leo gazed at the ceiling.
“Sir, there is a demonic presence in this area and these people were
just about to try and get rid of it,” hinted Toby.
“All of these people?” said Bartlet, showing no signs of leaving. “All of them?”
“If you want….” Giles wondered if there was a polite way to ask the
President of the
“What I want,” said the President testily, “Is for someone to *explain*
this!”
“Mr. President, the reason that you’re feeling suspicious and paranoid
is because the demon…”
“Yes, I agree that my feelings of paranoia may be related to the
presence of a *demon*,” he replied dryly. “A concept, I might add, that I had
presumed was mythological. And, more importantly, not in my basement!”
“You should ask your….ow!” Spike broke off as Ainsley stamped hard on
his foot with her three inch heels.
Buffy’s narrowed gaze fell on them. She tried to convince herself that
shutting Spike up was a worthy endeavour, an enterprise that should be
encouraged in one and all. But at the back of her mind, she couldn’t silence a
small voice that insisted that beating Spike up was *her* job.
The president ignored them all.
“I find this disturbing,” he said, to sincere and heartfelt agreement
from Toby and Leo. “Please tell me the press hasn’t caught wind of this….this.”
“No sir, not a word,” promised CJ.
“And yet you’re all *here*” observed Bartlet. “What say we all go away
and let these people do the thing with the little glowy ball. Apart from the
fact that I believe some of you get paid for doing jobs around here, I’m
presuming this may be *dangerous*?”
He turned to the strange people with the glowy ball. They were ignoring
him.
“I think Tony Blair is a demon,” Spike was commenting.
“Almost undoubtedly,” agreed Giles. “You can tell from the grin.”
They were lost for a moment in quiet contemplation.
“Hi, British people?” said Buffy, waving a hand in front of their faces.
“Back in the Free World we have a demon to kill?”
“Quite right,” said the president. “Since all you people are here,
cluttering up my White House, I’d be quite grateful if you got rid of
the….demon. Leo, are you sure we couldn’t have called normal exterminators?”
“It’s a good idea, Sir, but normal exterminators usually kill insects or
vermin. And what we have is a…”
“Demon,” Bartlet finished, glumly. “Very well. Come and see me when
you’re finished.”
He left, followed by his reluctant staff.
“We’re *exterminators*?” said Buffy, outraged.
“Better than exterminated,” said Xander. “Look on the bright side.”
“Perhaps now we can kill the demon?” enquired Giles. “Buffy?”
“Ready when you are.”
******
“All done!” Buffy reported to Toby, who motioned them into the Oval
Office.”
“You sure?” she said dubiously, eyeing the nice clean carpets. “I’ve got
blood on my clothes.”
“Hopefully the President won’t notice,” sighed Toby. He wanted this day
to be over, blood in the Oval Office be damned.
“So?” asked Bartlet, as the group straggled in.
“Dead demon,” said Buffy.
“Good. It was simple, then.”
“Like to see you kill it,” grumbled Buffy, before realising what she had
said. She cringed, seeing from the corner of her eye an identical reaction from
Giles.
“The girl makes a good point,” said a smiling Leo.
“Well, after I’ve seen *you* fighting one of these things I’ll be very
happy to give it a go,” Bartlet informed him. “In the mean time I’ll leave it
up to these people and I’ll be very grateful to them.”
Buffy looked up in relief. Grateful? Grateful was good. She could see
Giles relax for the first time too.
“The demon’s gone,” she said carefully. “And
Toby looked interested. “Do you think we could look into spell that
would make Congress….” He saw Leo’s look and gave up.
“This isn’t one of Leo’s Big Block of Cheese days, is it?” enquired the
president tiredly.
“Huh?” Buffy looked around the various amused faces.
“Trust me,” said Sam, “Sometimes our world is even stranger than yours.”
“I’m not sure I’d put money on that any more,” sighed Bartlet. “In the
mean time, thank you,” he said to the still nervously gathered group.
“You’re very welcome,” Giles nodded. “And any time we can be of
service…”
“There will be *no* more demons!”
“Quite.”
*****
They said their goodbyes.
“You’ve taught me a healthy fear of Latin,” Josh scolded Xander and
Anya.
“I’ll e-mail,” CJ told
Giles, who had been turning paler and paler, seemed to develop problems
breathing.
“Send my best to the First Lady,” called Spike. Giles choked.
“We should go. We should go now,” he said firmly. “Now,” he repeated, motioning to Buffy, who shouted, “Keep up the
training!” to Sam.
“Training?” scoffed Spike, glaring at the Slayer. “Him? He couldn’t
fight his way out of paper bag!”
“Yeah? Jealous?” she enquired sweetly.
“Of that, pet? In your dreams. In your wet slayer dreams!”
“Shouldn’t we be getting all sorts of money for saving the president?”
Dawn was asking, with enthusiastic agreement from Xander.
As Buffy and Spike began to scuffle, Giles sighed. It was going to be a
very long drive.
But this was the sort of problem he was used to.
*****
“What was that about the First Lady?” Sam asked Ainsley, worried.
“No idea whatsoever,” she lied calmly. They began the stroll back
towards the West Wing.
“Ainsley,” he said with deliberation, “You aren’t a vampire.”
She grinned at him as she sashayed off. “Nor are you, Sam. Nor are you.”
He looked at her suspiciously. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
*****
In the Oval Office, the President had been staring at the same document
for fifteen minutes.
“Are you alright, Sir?” enquired Leo in concern.
“Leo, if it’s all the same with you, I think I’d like to pretend that
today didn’t happen.” Bartlet looked a little dazed.
“I think we’re all on board with that idea, Sir,” Leo assured him.
“At least until I’ve had a chance to read a little more about it.”
“A day we await with baited breath.”
“Or until I’ve found a way to make the demons obey my will, thus
replacing the need for insolent, disobedient staff.” The president affixed his
chief of staff with a steely gaze.
“Oh, we’re working on that one. We’re workin’ on it.”
The End