Chapter 7THE GILES' RESIDENCE 1527 HOURS Everyone turned to stare at the strange man standing at the top of the stairs, eclipsing the light. Buffy's instinctive reaction was to reach for a stake, but before she could make a move towards it, the man turned to look at her. "Don't worry, I'm not a vampire". She froze for half a second, then grabbed the stake and hurled it at him. He stared unblinking at her, as the stake stopped in midair a foot away from Buffy, then clattered to the floor. Everyone stared, fascinated, at the place where the stake had once been. The man stepped out of the light, and they got their first good look at him. "Hey, you're that guy from my dream," Xander blurted out, then instantly regretted it as five pairs of eyes turned questionably to him. The man in the doorway just smiled. "Xander," he said after picking the man out of the young man's head. "I need to speak privately with you later". Willow's mind was racing. Her eyes widened as something dawned on her. The email message surfaced in her mind. "He's the 'unexpected help' that was mentioned in Ms. Calendar's email," she said to herself, but loud enough for everyone to hear. The man reached the bottom of the stairs and nodded at her. "My name's Fox Mulder, and I am, ummm, was an FBI agent." he said with a small smile. "As for you all, no introductions are needed. I know who you all are". Mulder pointed to each one in turn. "Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, Jenny Calendar; technopagen, and Rupert Giles, Watcher. Mr. Giles, if you'll remember, we met one day way back in England at the British Museum you worked for." Giles nodded in recognition. "Ah yes, you were the young chap who wanted to stay after hours to study the occult section." Mulder turned to look at Buffy. "And you, are Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer extraordinaire". After a pause he spoke again. "There was another, an Angelus if my memory serves me right. I'll need to speak with him, when it gets dark," he said knowingly. "He doesn't go by that anymore. It's Angel now," Buffy informed him. Silence befell them all, each pondering how this strange man knew of them. It was Giles who spoke up first. "Excuse me, but what are you?" "Well, George Lucas called us Jedi," he said, grinning, "but since the beginning of time we have been called many things. Witches, warlocks, sorcerers, gypsies, psychics... the list goes on." Ms. Calendar put up her hand, as if she were a little school girl asking a question in a first grade class. "We?" "Yes. Once we were plentiful, but out numbers have depleted over time. Right now there are only four that I know of. Each Slayer has the ability," he said with a meaningful glance in Buffy's direction, and saw her give a half smile to her friends, who were staring. " I am also one," Mulder continued. "Your 'Brother Luca' is one, and..." he twisted his body around so that he was facing Xander completely. "Xander is one." Xander's bottom jaw hit the floor. He blushed, and felt everyone staring at him. Normally he would have enjoyed the attention, but he didn't feel comfortable with the looks he was getting. He raised his arms protectively, and tried to make himself small. Willow, her interest piqued, felt a warm glowing sensation in her heart. "Xander... you have clairvoyant powers and you never told me?" Xander looked out from under his eyes and gave her a confused look. Agent Mulder pulled Buffy and a reluctant Xander off to the side for a more private talk. "I know the both of you have unconsciously used your powers before. Buffy, it is what gives a Slayer her perceptive dreams, telling her about events passed, present and future. It also contributes to your strength. When you learn to use this special gift to it's full potential, you shall be almost unbeatable." "Xander," he continued. "I believe you genetically inherited your gift. It was probably passed down from generation to generation in your family, lying dormant for a long while, then resurfacing in you." Buffy looked at Xander and stated, "There's life on the Hellmouth for you. Brings out the weirdness in everyone." Xander nodded in consent, and turned back to Mulder as he continued on. "You mentioned a dream before, when I stepped into the light. Can you tell me about it?" "Umm... well.. there was you... and umm.. I guess your partner, a redhead in a dark blue FBI jacket with yellow lettering that read FBI on the back. You guys were running in a parking lot, then I guess you sensed something, 'cause you stopped and pushed your partner out of the way. After that.." Xander trailed off. "Then what?" Mulder gently prodded. "Then I woke up. I'll tell you, that was the weirdest dream I ever had, totally different from the dreams I usually have about Bu... uhhh.. butterflies, yeah." He cast a furtive glance at Buffy to see if she had caught his slip, then looked up at Mulder, who was smiling devilishly, as if he knew. Special Agent Mulder taught Buffy and Xander a few tricks, namely the most basic levitation skills, and a little bit of mind reading, which was harder and took more concentration than it did on TV. Soon enough, Buffy was raising stakes mentally, and hurling them with an incredible force at a punching bag attached to a wall. Xander meanwhile, was trying to read the minds of the people he most knew. He was picking up bits and pieces, but all together, not enough to form a coherent thought. They all sat down in a roughly circular shape, and listened to the lone FBI man tell his tale. "I have lived with a fragile faith, built on the eith of vague memories from an experience I can neither prove, nor explain. When I was twelve, my sister was taken from me, taken from our home by a force I came to believe was extraterrestrial. This belief sustained me. Feeling a quest for truths that were as elusive as the memory itself, I devoted my life to paranormal and the unexplained. Work that eventually led me to the X-Files." "X-Files? Are those the files that would come after W?" Xander piped up. Mulder ignored Xander's comment while everyone else gave him a hard look. "The X-Files are unsolved cases that are labeled by the Bureau as 'strange' and 'scientifically unexplainable'. I began investigating these cases, and eventually was assigned a partner, who was supposed to debunk the X-Files, and keep me in line, as well as evaluate my mental status. He name's Dana Scully, and you'll meet her later. Due to my refusal to move to another section, and my eagerness to explore these cases, she was given a strange disease, a sort of cancer that began when a strange microchip was removed from her neck. Many other people I have worked with have mysteriously disappeared. To protect the people I care most about, around two weeks ago I staged my own suicide. I do know that sooner or later the people in charge of this conspiracy will figure out it wasn't my body lying dead on the floor, but that of one of their own agents, sent to spy on me at my apartment.." "I put you all in great danger by telling you all this, but you must understand me and accept my help if we're going to avert this prophesy I heard about. I'm not completely sure about the details, just the basics. Something's coming, its bad, and if we don't stop it, you can kiss the human race goodbye." Giles sighed, took his glasses off, wiped them clean, and cleared his throat. He knew he would have had to tell her sooner or later. He motioned Willow to hand him the thick volume of text next to her elbow. "The... well, the Codex," he held up the book, and opened it to the right page, where he had left off.. " The Codex, tells of something happening, well, I'll just read it to you. This is all roughly translated from Latin." "And for seventeen rotations of the Earth, she will have no problems, whilst the Hellmouth prepares for a new arrival. Then, on the eighth day of the seventh month, a new force will arrive to drain the energy of the Slayer, leaving her to bear as a mortal would bear. As the seventeenth rotation is completed, the force will rise, and seek out the Slayer, intent on destruction. She will fall, and the Old Ones will reign. Oh my." Giles stopped suddenly, then continued slowly, unsure if he was translating correctly. "It then reads that... that..." Giles swallowed, and with a whispered voice continued. "The Slayer shall be taken by surprise, having never faced a foe such as this. Unprepared she shall fall, mortal she shall become, possibly... forever." Buffy's mouth dropped open in surprise, which quickly turned to anger. She hadn't heard the part of the prophesy before. Was Giles keeping stuff from her again in order to 'protect' her? "Giles," she choked out. "Why didn't you tell me this before? Are you keeping stuff from me again? Is there more I should know? I'm tired of you and your 'little secrets'. Remember what happened last time? I _died_. You think that's something I want to experience again?" She crossed her arms and glared hatefully at her Watcher who had betrayed her. "Buffy I would have told you earlier, but I wasn't sure I had the translation right. Had I mistranslated, well, the effect would be most disastrous. Anyhow, it doesn't say you will die," Giles said, raising his voice as he started to get angry at the little Slayer in front of him. "Just that your powers will be drained. That has happened before, true, but you emerged from that dilemma much stronger. What bothers me, and what should concern you, is why you will be weak this time, while with the Master you returned stronger." Giles finished his tirade, and looked back at Buffy, who was close to tears. He then turned around to see the others, and was surprised to see looks of astonishment on everyone's face. He suddenly realized he had been screaming at a 16-year old child, reprimanding her for what was only natural, when he was supposed to be her Watcher, a person she could look up to, confide in, but most of all, a friend in whom she could trust. He mentally cursed himself for being such a fool. This child was under enough stress as it was. Tears begun welling up in his eyes, and a single fat drop rolled down his cheek. He slowly advanced towards Buffy, and enveloped her in a hug. She at first cringed at his touch, afraid maybe he was going to strike her, and Giles felt like an idiot thinking she would immediately forgive him, but she soon relaxed in his arms and let loose the tears that were threatening to overflow. They stood there for a long time, no one speaking, as Giles' tweed coat got tear stained, but he didn't care, his entire wardrobe was tweed. His protégé was in distress, and it was all his fault. He would have to make it up to her, and hope that someday she would forgive him. Chapter 8 NEAR THE LOS ANGELES AIRPORT 1800 HOURS Xander, Willow, Cordelia, Giles, Ms. Calendar, and a somber Buffy accompanied Fox Mulder to the airport to pick up his partner. They all sat in silence, mulling over what Mulder had told them. It was very sad, and tragic. Buffy could relate to it. Everyone she knew was in danger. Vampires could come at anytime and snatch her friends and/or family, and use them against her. The two cars pulled into the airport parking lot. They drove around for a while before finding two parking spaces near each other. Xander and Buffy got out of Mulder's car, and stood beside it as the others got out of Cordelia's car and walked over to them. Dana Scully watched as the bags were off-loaded from the airplane that she had been on. As the bags came down the ramp, and turned around on a moving conveyer belt, she reflected on her trip. So far it had been uneventful, as usual plane trips go. She had sat down in her seat, eaten the on board food, trying not to taste it, while she had watched the in-flight movie, some horrible flick starring Chevy Chase. She shivered at the recollection of it. Her luggage came down the black ramp, and she bent over to pick it up. Checking her small plain watch, she hurriedly straitened, and made her way towards the glass doors that led out off the airport. It was time for her to meet up with Mulder. 'He should be waiting right outside those doors...' she thought. Cancerman sat down at his desk and pulled out a set of keys from his pocket. He selected a slim silver colored one that shimmered when he held it up to the light. It had no marking on it. He inserted the key into a keyhole in the bottom drawer of his private desk. As the key clicked in place, he pulled open the drawer and drew from its contents a small, black box, a special device designed specifically for this occasion. It was a device which he had never hoped to use. Scully pushed open the glass door, and stepped out onto the concrete that composed the parking lot, the high heeled business shoes clicking as they touched the hard surface. The group of people leaning against Mulder's rental car turned to see a petite redhead walk out of the airport. Murmurs of "is that her?" passed between members of the group. Cancerman pushed the little red button on the top of the device, arming it. Scully looked up and saw Mulder standing with a group of unfamiliar people. He didn't seem to be threatened by them, so she waved. Cancerman depressed a small green button on his device, a button that had become lit when he had armed the device. He sighed. Scully felt a piercing pain in the back of her neck, like some one had just stuck her with a very small needle. Her vision blurred, and she fell to her knees. The last thing she heard before she blacked out completely, was Mulder's desperate cry of her name. Cancerman returned his little black box to its rightful place in his drawer, completely aware of what he had just done, yet not the least concerned. It had to be so. He pushed himself out of his comfortable brown leather chair, and walked out the door, his day's work done. Mulder could not believe what was happening. He was in shock as he ran numbly over to Scully's side. The thought, 'How can this be happening? She just got here' kept running over and over again in his mind. He turned her over, checking for signs of life. He lifted her eyelids, only to find that her eyes had rolled up into her head, leaving only the whites exposed. He checked her pulse. It was still there, thank God, but it was racing. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, and looked up to see Buffy standing over him, concern and uncertainty written all over her face. "Call 911," he mumbled, tears streaming down his face in rivers, and falling on Scully's face. He gently wiped then off, then propped her head up onto his lap. "Scully, Scully," he kept repeating. "Don't leave me. I... I need you." He placed his hands on the crown of her head, searching with his mind for Scully's presence, or for any clue as to what had happened. His hands shook, and his mind was clouded with remorse. He couldn't think strait enough to properly use his abilities to help her. He gave up his futile attempt, and hoped feverently that the ambulance would arrive shortly. |