Author: Sandra Pascoe

Pairing: None - there’s a turn-up!

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: Giles doesn’t belong to me…I’m only borrowing him. Can I keep him...please?

Spoilers: I don’t think there are any …

Setting: When Giles returns to England in S6

Notes: The Museum of Ancient Antiquities doesn’t exist - I just sort of slotted it into Bath. Thoughts are in Italics. Oh and the Latin quote will be translated at the end.

Dedication/Thanks: This fic is for Pam for introducing me to the joys and delights of Ice Hockey (Go St Louis Blues!)… and also for any other B5 fans out there.

"It’s happening now, isn’t it?" Bernard gazed intently at Travers, who put the phone down and nodded.

"Yes. They’re both at the Museum."

"I could have a team there in fifteen minutes," remarked Bernard softly but Travers shook his head.

"I thought I was the Doubting Thomas," smiled Travers. "We can’t do anything now. This is between the two of them. I DO understand how you’re feeling … I really don’t like the idea of the future of the Council being decided amongst Gerald, Rupert and some mystical whatnot."

"Do you trust Rupert?"

"I trust him to do what HE thinks is the right thing. We knew from the outset that trying to control him was not an option … it’s always best to give Rupert his head."

"And hope for the best."

"Well, our other option is Gerald Montague and I think I’d rather trust a soulless vampire over him. If you’re a praying man, Bernard, you might want to put a word or two in for Rupert … and for us."

Awareness returned slowly, slipping into his clouded mind like a thief into the night. Giles blinked a few times and took deep breaths, looking around slightly hazily as though waking from a deep sleep. He relaxed his breathing, putting into practice a few almost forgotten mental exercises that he’d learnt in his youth. Within moments, he felt rested and refreshed and he looked around again, starting to take stock of his surroundings. Giles raised a questioning eyebrow as he caught the eyes of a thin, dark suited man who was leaning casually against a table.

"How the hell did I get here and who the bloody hell are you?" The irritated bellow cut in before Giles had a chance to speak and he glanced around to take a look at the owner of such an imperious voice. I’m sure I know him, he thought, the face is familiar.

"How you and Mr Giles arrived here is not important, Mr Montague," the firm, almost commanding voice brooked no argument, "and as to myself, you may call me Julian."

Montague? Gerald Montague? Giles groaned inwardly. I should have known, he thought, dratted man has been a thorn in the side of all right minded Watchers for years.

"You can’t keep me here, you know," Gerald started for the door. "I have important work to be doing."

"And would that work be Vulcan’s Bane, Mr Montague?" Julian’s softly mocking tone carried a thinly veiled threat that stopped Gerald in his tracks. He glanced at Giles and waved towards the door.

"This discussion is no concern of yours, Mr Giles," remarked Gerald evenly. "Please leave us."

"We have both obviously been summoned here for a reason," replied Giles, glancing towards Julian who nodded encouragingly, "and I intend to find out what that is."

Gerald scowled and looked at Julian.

"So what have you got to do with all this?"

Julian shrugged and put his hands into his pockets.

"I believe you could say that I am the … representative of Vulcan’s Bane. It is my job to ascertain which of you is most worthy."

"Most worthy for what?" Asked Giles softly.

"Oh I do apologise, Mr Giles," replied Julian. "You are at a slight disadvantage here. Mr Montague knows rather a lot about this … it has been his life’s work to find and … use … the power that Vulcan’s Bane provides. You, however, have barely skimmed the surface."

"Which proves that I am the worthy one," remarked Gerald, casting a glare towards Giles, who merely raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe it does, Mr Montague, maybe it does. We need to find the right person … in the right place … at the right time. Now, tell Mr Giles what you have discovered. The salient points only, please." Julian’s voice took on a commanding tone and his gaze hardened.

Gerald sighed and cleared his throat.

"The salient point … the only point worth mentioning … is that it promises immortality," replied Gerald.

"Oh it does much more," smiled Julian, "however if you wish to concentrate on that particular point … why would you wish to be immortal?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Scoffed Gerald. "Who wouldn’t want to be immortal? To live forever … think of what you could achieve."

"I don’t," remarked Giles. "I have no wish to be immortal."

"Then you shouldn’t damn well be here! I deserve this … I’ve worked for this all my life … and I am not going to be denied by an upstart like you!"

Julian walked closer to Gerald and smiled slightly.

"Worked for this? As I understand it, you have stolen, bribed and cheated your way to power. You have no morals to speak of. In fact, you are a thoroughly disreputable man and have been responsible for numerous deaths in your obsessive search. Although … to Vulcan’s Bane … that is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, we have been most impressed with your dedication." Julian turned to Giles. "You have also been responsible for deaths. You have always tried to do the right thing even though it might hurt you personally. You allied yourself with chaos … but now you fight on the side of light. That could work against you in this … or it could be the deciding factor in your favour."

"Death got me into this," said Giles, staring at Julian. "The deaths of two archaeologists. Does Vulcan’s Bane trade in death as well?"

"That was a tragic mistake, Mr Giles," frowned Julian. "It had been many years since we were whole. We had forgotten so much … like the sometimes-fragile nature of the human brain. When we are separated, when the Sphere is not complete, we sleep. When we are complete, there is SUCH hunger. Without knowledge we will be lost. Without information … we die. And what we are, what we can do … would die with us. We had no choice. That does not excuse our actions, only explains them. Will you accept our apologies for this tragic error?"

"It is not for me to do that," replied Giles, his instincts telling him to trust his man, "but I will accept what you say."

"Thank you. Now I will ask you both to open your minds … and allow us access."

"Access?" Gerald frowned.

"We wish to examine you both. It is essential the right choice be made and this is the only way to be sure."

"I want to know more about this first," said Giles. "You haven’t really given me much information and yet you expect me to accept you at face value."

"What do you wish to know?"

"What exactly is Vulcan’s Bane? You mentioned immortality … and other powers. What ARE these other powers?"

"Reasonable questions," replied Julian, cocking his head to one side slightly and then smiling. "We have no objections to answering. Vulcan’s Bane is here for a reason. It is not here to fight on either side - darkness or light. It is here to keep the balance."

"Balance?"

"There is a balance between darkness and light, Mr Giles. Neither one should gain supremity over the other … the balance is essential. Now, if darkness is in ascendant then naturally YOU would be chosen … however if light is too powerful … then the choice would be Mr Montague."

"Interesting," replied Giles. "So what happens to the chosen person?"

"They become immortal, you damned fool," said Gerald irritably. "Now can we get on with it?"

"Leaving the immortality to one side for a moment," replied Julian, "the one chosen will merge with Vulcan’s Bane. Their minds will be linked together."

"That hardly appeals," frowned Giles. "This thing is rather powerful … I would expect that the one chosen would have his mind … consumed."

"Oh no, Mr Giles. That is not the case at all. In order to merge with a human, Vulcan’s Bane has to give up the majority of its power. That is it’s curse - it would not be able to influence minds … it would merely be a presence in your head, imparting knowledge and advice. And believe me, Mr Giles … it has a VAST knowledge."

"I see."

"And still you doubt, Mr Giles?" Smiled Julian. "You really have no choice in this. You cannot leave this room. You have, if I may say, crossed the Rubicon and there is no turning back."

Giles frowned and looked closely at Julian. His face is familiar … sort of. I’ve seen it before somewhere. The nose … the balding hair … the eyes … who IS he?

"We will do this by force if necessary." Julian held out his hands, palm upwards. "Now if you would both place one hand on mine."

Gerald immediately stepped forward, placing one of his hands in Julian’s palm. Giles paused, staring at Julian who looked evenly back.

"Mr Giles. I am quite serious. You really do have no choice."

Giles sighed and nodded, tentatively reaching out his hand. Their palms touched … and Giles was completely unprepared for the sudden burst of energy that surged through him. He felt energised, his blood singing in his veins and he briefly wondered if his hair was standing on end before the energy suddenly withdrew … leaving him feeling bereft and abandoned. Giles tried to pull back but his hand was gripped tightly. He opened his mouth to speak and then stopped … feeling the briefest of touches on his mind. It was gentle … a soft probing … a tentative search. Like a child flicking through a book, it examined every part of him: personality … memory … instinct. Giles was flooded with memories, from his early childhood to recent events. Each memory was held up and examined … the feeling of being judged was overwhelming. Is it my imagination, thought Giles, or is this thing lingering on my memories concerning the Council … and Buffy? He tried to control his reactions but it was all too real. Giles found himself laughing at some memories … crying at others … and trying to back off from some. His reactions were important … he realised that … realised that his entire being was under examination. And if I’m found wanting, thought Giles, what then? It’s too much … I can’t take much more. Giles felt himself being sucked into a dark void … deeper and deeper … no light … no sound … just an overwhelming nothing. Panic started to rise … he struggled mentally … determined to break free. Suddenly … it was gone. The presence in his mind withdrawing as quickly as it had entered.

Giles staggered and would have fallen if not for the firm grip Julian had on his arm. He looked around, breathing deeply, noting that Gerald Montague was leaning wearily against the table and looking almost as bad as Giles felt.

"It is over," remarked Julian, steadying Giles. "Can you stand?"

Giles nodded, not really sure he could speak and Julian let go, moving across to Gerald.

"Are you ready for immortality, Mr Montague?"

Gerald straightened up and grinned triumphantly at Giles.

"I told you I was the one who was worthy. It could NEVER have been you … you’re too weak. You don’t have the inner strength for this," sneered Gerald. "Quentin was wrong to have chosen you … and he’ll learn the extent of his mistake soon enough."

"Well, Mr Montague, if this ‘thing’ would choose someone like YOU, then you are both more than welcome to one another," replied Giles firmly. "I want no part of it."

"Gentlemen, please," cut in Julian as he walked over to the table and opened a drawer, "this antagonism is entirely unnecessary."

Julian reached into the drawer and pulled out a metal sphere. Beautiful, thought Giles, superb construction … but those jewels dotted about its surface seem just thrown on … there doesn’t seem to be any recognisable pattern. Julian walked over to stand in front of Gerald and held up the sphere reverently.

"Behold," he said softly, "Vulcan’s Bane."

Giles shuddered at the expression on Gerald’s face. It was desperate, hungry. His eyes were cold and intense, his lips thin and bloodless and his entire face seemed shrouded in shadow … a darkness that emanated from within. In that moment, Gerald resembled a snake ready to strike at its prey. This can’t happen, thought Giles as he took a step forward, they can’t do this. Julian glanced briefly at Giles and then, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, turned his attention back to Gerald. Giles frowned, his eyes widening in disbelief as one word, spoken in a soft but commanding voice, echoed in his head: wait. It was a voice that inspired trust and belief, a voice that echoed in eternity. Such loneliness, thought Giles, it aches for companionship, it needs this sharing. Giles let his instincts guide him once again and he stepped back, thrusting his hands into his pockets and watching … and waiting.

"Will you accept your fate, Mr Montague? Do you make this decision of your own free will?" Asked Julian eagerly and Gerald nodded emphatically.

"I do."

"Very well," replied Julian, "then prepare to receive the immortality you so richly deserve."

Julian held the Sphere aloft and it blazed with light, a brightness so intense that Giles closed his eyes and lowered his head. Gerald laughed with delight as the light surrounded him, entered him. It flooded his being, touching every part of him and Gerald felt himself start to alter … to change. The power was intense and Gerald’s body started to vibrate, his eyes widening as a burst of pain surged through him. What’s happening? This doesn’t feel right, he thought. He tried to speak … but had no voice. He tried to pull away … but could feel no body. He was blind … deaf … unable to touch … not breathing. There was nothing. No sound. No light. Just a never-ending darkness. Bastards! What have they done to me? Gerald’s silent mental screams of desperation went unheard ... his struggles were ineffective. I’m trapped…

As the glow from the Sphere died, Julian smiled and placed it gently on the table.

"You may open your eyes now, Mr Giles."

Giles opened his eyes and looked around, a frown crossing his face.

"What happened? Where is he?"

Julian’s smile widened.

"Safely out of the way," he replied. Giles glared at him and Julian sighed. "He is still here, Mr Giles."

Julian pointed to the Sphere.

"Each of these jewels is, or rather was, a person … there is now a new one. You see, Gerald Montague did not serve Chaos and he did not serve Light. He had one interest: immortality for himself. We have learnt over Centuries that Mankind is not ready and that those who seek it are dangerous individuals interested only in personal gain. Oh, he has what he desired…to all intents and purposes he IS immortal." Julian grinned and peered closely at the Sphere. "You know, I thought he’d become a Sapphire … not a Ruby."

"Dear god," muttered Giles, unable to tear his eyes away from the sparkling ruby. "So it’s a trap. The whole immortality thing is nothing but a clever trap."

"Well not entirely," Julian turned to look at Giles. "YOU have been chosen, Mr Giles. You will merge with Vulcan’s Bane. And whilst eventually your body will die, your thoughts, memories and feelings will not. They will be preserved and your knowledge will be used by those who come after you."

"What if I refuse?"

"You cannot refuse and tell me honestly … do you REALLY want to turn this down?"

Julian picked up the Sphere, moved across to Giles and held it out to him.

"All you have to do is hold it in both hands."

Giles looked up. "As YOU did?"

"Oh yes … a long time ago, Mr Giles … a VERY long time ago. It was a huge support to me during difficult times. It offered knowledge, advice … and company. Believe me, it will be necessary in the dark days that are to come. You will need it. And it will need you. You have a long, hard road ahead of you - do not allow your stubbornness to stand in the way of something that can smooth your path."

"I will admit I’m not entirely convinced," replied Giles with a sigh, "but sometimes you have to simply stop thinking and trust your instincts."

Slowly, Giles reached out his hands and took the Sphere from Julian.

"And what of you, Julian? Who precisely ARE you?"

Julian grinned as he started to fade.

"You can find me in the annals of Ancient History, Mr Giles," he said and one final phrase seemed to hang in the air as he disappeared completely. "Fere libenter homines id quod volunt credunt."

Giles frowned; repeating the phrase under his breath before his eyes widened and a smile crossed his face.

"Good lord," he muttered, looking down at the Sphere. "Did he serve Chaos or Light? Never mind … I have my own ideas about that. Well, I’m going to be in interesting company anyway. So, my little friend, what do I do now?"

A soft glow surrounded the Sphere and Giles felt his palms begin to tingle. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation but he still mentally braced himself for the pain he was expecting. The tingle travelled up his arms, soon encompassing his whole body. The first soft touch on his mind was barely noticeable but it grew in intensity and Giles had the impression of being filled - as though a vessel were being emptied into him. Which is probably what’s happening, he mused. Tendrils weaved through his mind, linking and merging with him - separate yet one. It embraced him … settling gently into his mind as though it belonged there. Not uncomfortable at all, thought Giles, in fact, I think under normal circumstances I’d barely notice it. Welcome to my mind, he thought, smiling as a feeling of gratitude flooded through him. Giles glanced down at the now dark Sphere. Put it somewhere safe, came the thought and Giles nodded. Moving to the table, he rummaged around in the drawers, finally coming up with an old and somewhat battered carrier bag. Placing the Sphere in the bag, he straightened up and raised a questioning eyebrow. Shall we go? The feeling of anticipation and hope wasn’t unexpected and Giles nodded in satisfaction. Good … we have a lot of things to think about, my friend.

The rap on his car window caused John Downing to visibly jump and the soft chuckle from the young man hovering outside certainly didn’t improve his mood. Muttering under his breath, he wound down the window.

"What do you want?" He snapped and the young man smiled nervously.

"Um … did you order a pizza?" He held up the box hopefully.

"Yes," John grinned, "and it’s about bloody time. What do I owe you?"

"£10.50," came the reply as the box was handed to him. John put the pizza on the cluttered passenger seat and, following a quick trawl through various pockets, held out the correct money.

"Oh great … thanks." The young man glared as he snatched the money.

"Sod off," replied John as he wound the window back up. Making himself comfortable, he opened the box, deftly extracting a slice of pizza. He inhaled deeply and almost groaned aloud in delight. God, this smells amazing. He took a large bite, ignoring the cheese that dribbled onto his chin. Ohhhh wonderful. There are good pizzas … there are bad pizzas …this is a GREAT pizza. John took another bite … and then mentally cursed as the front door of the Museum opened and Rupert Giles stepped out. John dropped the slice of pizza, wiped his hands on his shirtfront and scrambled for his phone, knocking the pizza box to the floor as he did so.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! You HAD to bloody come out now, didn’t you?"

John furiously punched buttons on his phone and glared out of the window at Giles. Why’s he just standing there? Doesn’t he have a bloody home to go to?

"Mr Travers? Yes … Mr Giles … yes, he’s quite alone." John paused and then nodded. "Very well, sir."

John ended the call and, glaring once more at Giles, he tossed the phone aside. Right, you asshole, he thought as he started the car, you’re on your bloody own.

Quentin Travers breathed a sigh of relief and put down the phone. He looked up at Bernard and grinned.

"Rupert’s left the Museum … alone."

"He survived … thank God," replied Bernard, "but what about Gerald?"

"He appears to have lost, which is the main thing," shrugged Travers. "Send in a clean-up team to make sure."

Bernard nodded and stood up.

"What about Rupert?" He said quietly. "What happens now?"

"We let him come to us," said Travers. "I think this time we simply have to trust him … trust his judgement. We don’t know whether he merged with Vulcan’s Bane … we don’t know what effect this will have. We can’t go barging in. Letting Rupert do things his own way seems to yield results."

Giles sat in his car and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He could feel the presence in his mind, learning, absorbing information. It was an exhilarating feeling and Giles realised that, with an effort, he could see things through ITS eyes. There was a surprising innocence about it; a sense of almost childlike wonder and Giles couldn’t help smiling. Upon reaching adulthood, he mused, we lose sight of the child within. We see things from an adult perspective, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes we fail to see the beauty and joy in the simple things of life. Giles started the engine but made no attempt to move. Now what? The reply that came caused him to grin widely: Now we learn about one another. We must become one yet remain separate. We will test limits, discover boundaries. I have much knowledge at your disposal and we will need to learn to work together if we are both to survive the darkness that is coming. Giles frowned. What darkness? The presence mentally shrugged. I am unsure, came the thought, I merely know it is coming. Giles nodded and relaxed. Then learn, he thought, everything is open to you. Giles felt the gratitude from the presence and responded in kind. Reaching up, he put on his seatbelt and then stopped as a thought drifted through his mind: I am no longer alone. He frowned - whose thought was that? Mine or his? Giles shrugged and pulled away from the Museum. It doesn’t matter, he smiled, it really doesn’t matter.

The End - or is it?

(Latin quote: "Men willingly believe what they wish" - De Bello Gallico, iii. 18 - Julius Caesar)