Little Bitty Puzzle PiecesBy PJzallday
Reconsider
"Where's John?" asked Fred of the others in the Hyperion lobby when she came from the kitchen with snacks.
Barely looking up from the new foosball table to which he and Wes had been attached for half an hour, Gunn replied, "He was here a minute ago." As he took an exaggerated shot, Wesley's cell phone rang. "Yeah! Take that English!"
"I guess I'll have to," Wes countered as he pulled the phone from his pocket. "Wyndam-Pryce here."
At the same time, Faith, who was lounging on the couch, remote in hand channel surfing, remarked, "He was readin' the paper then he took off."
"What do you mean 'he took off'?" Fred went to the messy pile of newsprint tossed on the coffee table. "Which way did he go? How could you just let him leave?"
"Hey, chill. I didn' know he was a prisoner."
"What's the trouble, Sweetie Pie?" Lorne crooned as he swept in with drinks.
Rifling through the scattered sheets, Fred exclaimed, "It's John. He's gone."
"And you thought you'd find him in the newspaper?"
"Of course not. But supposedly he was reading the paper right before he left," she explained, holding up the rumpled pages. "I just thought maybe something in here set him off."
"Well, I think you'll find that's the problem right there," the demon noted pointing a free-finger to the page facing him as he raised his glass.
Fred shuffled the newspaper around to see about what Lorne was talking. Bewildered, she muttered, "I don't see anything that-"
"It's this one," Lorne clarified.
"'Teen Violence: Holiday Season Spike or Terrifying Trend'? He's awfully sensitive, isn't he?" Fred remarked. "I mean I understand that he cares about people and he feels responsible for the things that he might have done when he was a vampire but I don't see how-"
"Fred, it's a lot more personal," Lorne explained, putting an arm around the lithe woman. "The nurse in this article, the one that died, she was his friend."
"Oh my gosh. I had no idea." Tossing down the newspaper, again she asked Faith, "Which way did he go?"
Casually, the Slayer waved the remote in the direction of the courtyard and mumbled, "That way."
As Fred and Lorne crossed the lobby to the courtyard stairs, Wesley marched to the office and closed the door behind him.
Newly opponent-less, Gunn asked, "Hey Faith, you wanna play?"
***
"Alright Rupert," Wesley began sharply. "What's so important that we have to discuss it this instant?""It's the Council; we're having a meeting to review the current year's developments and to plan for the coming year," Giles explained.
"I've already told you that I don't have the time, given my new responsibilities."
"Yes, I understand that," conceded Giles reluctantly. "I was rather hoping you might use some of the connections you've gained since taking up those new responsibilities to provide some much needed assistance to the Council."
"And why would I want to help the Council?" Wesley snapped.
"The Slayers... We're in dire need of some assistance," Giles explained.
The other man huffed, "And what would you have me do about that? I neither work for the Council nor have I any desire to help with your shoddy training."
"S'ppose that's to be expected," the Council Head sneered, "given your venture off the path of fighting evil to oversee one of its bastions."
"That's not what I'm doing here," Wes insisted, "and really rather beside the point. Tell me, what exactly is it you want from me?"
"Well, first and foremost, at the moment we could use research materials. I know you've access to virtually every imaginable text — including, I gather, a number of volumes which belonged to the former Council," Giles noted scornfully. "In lieu of an outright donation of the original books, p'rhaps you'd consider providing us with some of your templates?"
"Well, I suppose that if I were so inclined, I could do as you ask, however..." Wesley took a long pause. "Outside of the Wolfram and Hart offices, the templates are simply large volumes of blank pages."
"I see," grumbled a disappointed Giles.
"But even if the volumes were readable elsewhere, I'm not certain I'd be wiling to turn them over to the Council."
"Oh? And might I ask why not?" Giles inquired.
Wesley chuckled sarcastically. "Do you really need to? I have access to these materials because of my association with a demon; a demon who was murdered by your reckless Slayers because you didn't see fit to explain the subtleties of good and evil."
"Ah yes, let's drag that up again." Frustrated, Giles slammed an angry hand down on the desk. "The Council, as you well know, was established to train Slayers to kill vampires and other demons. The only major difference between the Council of Old and the New is that we are responsible to train and supervise dozens more Slayers with a small fraction of the man-power they had."
"Yes, well-"
"Aren't you being terribly hypocritical, Wesley?" Giles groused.
"Sorry?"
"I seem to recall a time when we asked for help to save Angel and you refused because the Council didn't help vampires," said Giles coolly. "Yet here you are condemning me for not reprimanding these Slayers for killing one."
"I hardly think-"
Giles barely paused to take a breath and completely ignored the other man's attempt to provide an argument. "These girls kill vampires and demons because it is their duty to do so. They haven't the luxury of sitting down around boardroom tables to discuss the worth of any given foe; they must think on their feet and react accordingly."
"If they'd-"
"And in case you'd forgotten, Angel was a vampire- a demon, and not all that long ago, evil, thanks in part to your lot," Giles accused. "While I may be sorry that they killed him, I'll not be made to apologize for teaching these girls to identify and kill vampires. If these Slayers begin to second guess their instincts, they'll be the ones who wind up dead. Even you can't argue with that."
"I suppose not, but-"
"What's done is done. There's nothing any of us can do to turn back time." Then Giles added, "But if you feel strongly enough about considering the value of demons, why not provide some insight at our meeting?"
***
"John?" called Fred softly to the man sitting in a sunny spot in the Hyperion's courtyard.He turned his head half-way to acknowledge that he'd heard her but said nothing before shifting his face back to the sun.
With concern, Fred glanced for advice to Lorne who shrugged uncertainly. She took a deep breath, grabbed the demon's arm, and headed down the steps to sit beside their troubled guest.
"You know, I don't remember a time when I couldn't do this," John said thoughtfully when the others were close. "Do you s'ppose it's because of bein' a vampire and having to stay out o' the sun that I enjoy the warmth now?"
Lorne and Fred sat awkwardly silent for several minutes as the man remained with eyes closed and his chin up facing the sun.
For John, it was time he'd have been more at ease spending alone, but he understood the others' want to be a comfort. "So, what's to be done then?" he finally asked as he turned to face his companions. "What do I have to do to get this-" He waved his hand about beside his head. "- this block sucked out?"
"Oh, I'm sure they don't actually suck it out," Fred comforted. "They must just-"
"No, they do pretty much suck it out," corrected Lorne. "Here, I'll call the office and set it up."
***
Buffy had just finished her nightly routine and climbed into bed when there was a knock on her door. "Come in.""Buffy?" Willow said apprehensively.
"What is it Will?" she asked, motioning for her friend to sit beside her on the bed.
"I wanted to talk to you about... about tomorrow's Council meeting."
"Will, I told you before: I'm not going; end of story." Like a child, the Slayer puffed up her chest and folded her arms across it.
"Yeah, um... I know what you said, and I... I understand why you don't want to be a part of this Council, but I really think you should reconsider."
Buffy raised a questioning brow.
"It's just... ah... It sounds like there's something pretty bad brewing and Dawn thought that you'd... well, you should be there. They're evaluating what the Council and new Slayers have done so far. I'll just bet they haven't been half as successful as you were," Willow said trying to be convincing. "They'll also be making decisions about the direction the Council's going to take from here. I'm sure you've got some great ideas!"
"You're not exactly subtle, Will," Buffy muttered. "What time?"
"You'll come?" asked Willow optimistically.
***
"I've got a conference call scheduled," Wesley stated. "You'll look after everything here?" Fred nodded.After the Brit boarded the elevator, the rest of the group sat waiting in silence outside Extraction Unit 3 of Wolfram and Hart's Psyche Department facility. Lorne glanced over to find John staring at him — again.
"Er... sorry," the man said. "Ah... Is that Roberto Cavalli?"
Rubbing his thumbs down his lapels, the demon replied, "Good eye."
John nodded awkwardly then directed his attention elsewhere. To his dismay, he found himself eye-to-eye with another of his new acquaintances.
"You sure you wanna do this?" Faith asked. "I mean, you know what Spike was, right?"
Turning his eyes to the floor, John replied glumly, "Yeah, I know."
"Just sayin'... I've done some pretty bad things in my life," the dark Slayer confessed. "Stuff I wouldn't wanna get back if I could forget it. I just thought... well, are you really sure you wanna remember a hundred years of killin'?"
"We're ready for him," a man in a white coat said.
"C'mon handsome," Lorne crooned with a flourish of his hand. "There's no turning back now."
Determinedly, the would-be lab-rat pushed himself up from the safe comfortable chair on which he'd been seated, sauntered with the rest of the group in-tow toward the waiting man then all disappeared behind the pair of swinging doors.