Title: Going Towards Yes 7/7
Author: K.V. Wylie
Disclaimer: Permission to use these characters relating to BtVS & AtS, has not been given. Joss, Twentieth
Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy own TM and copyrighted them. This is purely for fun,
and no copyright infringement is intended
The front door of their house stood open.
"I just paid for that lock." Giles got out of the van. "The door frame is broken again!"
Ira stepped onto the pavement, shielding his eyes from the rain. "Are they inside?"
"With the mezuzah and crosses? I don't think so." Giles went up the steps, paused at the door to listen, then went inside.
Ira entered slowly. Two series of tracks went across the floor and up the stairs. One would be Giles', but the other...
"RUPERT!"
Giles appeared at the top of the staircase. "The rock is gone."
"But he couldn't come in," Ira said, looking doubtfully at all of the crosses.
"Ria can't, but Sahrene can." Giles disappeared for a moment, and returned with a crossbow and a sword. He came down to the bottom steps and knelt to put the crossbow together. "Sahrene didn't have a key for the new lock, so he kicked it open."
"I cannot believe she would do this willingly," Ira said.
"The things we do for love," Giles murmured. "Charles Manson gets marriage proposals from women every week."
A voice yelled from outside. "Rupert? Rosenberg?"
Boris came in the doorway. "There you are. Linda called the nursing home. We've been trying to find you." He frowned at Giles' crossbow. "What the hell's that?"
"Why are you here?" Giles asked.
"Sahrene called Linda from here about fifteen minutes ago, whispering and crying. Said where she was and that they were going to kill her grandmother if she didn't get some kind of rock from your bedroom."
"They? As in more than one?" Ira questioned.
"I think so," Boris said. He glanced around. "No one's here? Are you sure?"
"Yes," Giles said. "But I know where they've gone." He went outside and Boris gave chase.
"I'm going with you, Rupert."
"No," Giles told him, just as Ira said, "Yes!"
"No!" Giles insisted. "Boris, these aren't normal, ah, toughs."
"Yeah, the setup sounded unusual, so I brought those." Boris gestured at a motorcycle on the sidewalk. Strapped to the back were two flame-throwers. "Wherever you're going, I can take you faster than that van of yours."
"It's too dangerous."
Boris was already on his bike. "Hop on, Rupert. Where are we going?"
"The Hoodoo trail," Ira said. "About two miles in. That motorcycle will go on the path."
"Won't be the first time I've done that," Boris said. "Get on, Rupert. We're going to get them."
Hesitantly, Giles straddled the seat behind Boris. He'd no sooner done so when Boris roared off.
Giles grabbed his back. "When we get there, I go in front!" he shouted over the engine and the rain.
"I don't know, Rupert. You look more like a librarian than a ninja," Boris yelled back. With one hand, he flipped a cell phone out of his pocket and shoved it into Giles' hand. "Speed dial three. That's a buddy of mine. He'll bring the gang."
"No."
"Rupert, these guys are willing to kill an old lady. Call my bud or I dump you and go down the trail myself."
"These ones aren'tB" Giles paused.
"They aren't like you and me, I'm figuring," Boris said. "I've been around and seen some stuff. I know you had some big fuckers at your house last night. You think I'd use a flame-thrower on a person? Call, Rupert."
"I won't endanger any more people."
Boris muttered something Giles couldn't hear. "If that's another offer to dump me off this bikeB" Giles started.
"I said you're a stubborn sonofabitch," Boris said. "So's Rosenberg, I hear. The two of you must have some head-banging fights. At least press number three and hold the phone for me. My friend knows the score and we need more on our side."
Giles did so and held the phone against Boris' face.
"Tommy, man, it's me. I need you and the guys right now. Two miles down the trail. Bring the fire. These are the kind who don't like Denver."
Giles shoved the phone back into Boris' pocket. "Who do not like what?"
"John Denver," Boris replied. "Sang that farty song, Sunshine on My Shoulder."
For a moment, Giles thought he might laugh at the absurdity. He clamped down the urge. "Don't blast in. We need the advantage of surprise and I don't want them to hear the cycle. Ria plans to kill Sahrene. You get her and her grandmother, and I'll deal with him."
"Ria?" Boris asked. "Isn't he dead?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"I meant, isn't he a dead human?"
The trail was soaked, and Boris took it like a banshee. Giles needed all of his strength to hang on. After trying to see where they were going, and getting whipped by wet branches for his effort, Giles ducked behind Boris' back.
"How far along are we?" Giles asked.
"A mile and a half."
Giles waited a few moments, then said, "Shut off the engine and let it coast. We're close."
To his surprise, Boris obligingly did so. Giles had been worried that Boris might ignore him and barge in like a bowling ball on two wheels.
He lifted his head. "Do you see the Hoodoos at the right?"
"Yes," Boris answered.
"We're not going there. It's to the left. At least I hope it is."
"You hope? I thought you were sure."
"There is an odd, ah, furnishing, the eighty-foot T-Rex. Ria wouldn't have set that up," Giles said. He caught an expression go over Boris' face. "You know it's there?"
"That's our party spot. My buddies and I were going to move it back afterwards."
"How did you move it to begin with?"
"Fifteen Harleys and a lot of rope," Boris said. "We do it every year for Canada Day. Linda and I were going to invite you and Rosenberg. Hell, even the Mayor comes. Last year, he set off fireworks from the dinosaur's head."
Giles thought for a second. "Why do you move it *there*?"
"It's the perfect spot. Big open space for the rockets, no power lines, nothing to catch fire, and it's too far for the tourists. We have bonfires and get drunk out of our minds."
"A big open space," Giles mused.
"And lots of sky overhead," Boris said. The motorcycle coasted to a stop and the men got off. "Is that important, Rupert?"
"It might be," Giles said. He picked up his crossbow and sword as Boris unhooked the flame-throwers. After exchanging a look, the two men went forward silently. The rain had slowed, leaving a mist which surrounded the tall hoodoos in a purplish-red fog. Trying not to react to the pillars' eerie presence, Giles whispered, "This way."
He heard Boris follow, almost as quiet-stepping as himself. He led the way through scrub and bush at the side of the trail, and to the large, single hoodoo which hid the fibreglass Tyrannosaurus.
As the men neared, they heard a high-pitched voice chanting rapidly.
"It's started," Giles said, recognizing an old Aramaic prayer.
Boris didn't ask what had started. He inched ahead of Giles, peered around the hoodoo, and stiffened. "There's got to be thirty of them!"
Giles edged around the stone. In the clearing stood many dark figures. All were tall and emaciated, as though their flesh had been shrivelling on them for centuries. Arms reduced almost to bone lay at the sides of caved-in bodies. Some had axes and broadswords. Others wore ill-fitting chain mail on their shoulders.
Despite their condition, they stood erect, quivering with emotion, their tall and gaunt forms in a semi-circle around the front of the T-Rex.
"I don't like our position. We're facing them. Let's go to the side," Giles said softly, and Boris nodded. The men retreated back to the trail and found another vantage point farther down. From here, they could see what the horde was looking at.
In an open area at the front of the demons lay Sahrene, bent backwards and tied over the piece of rock known as Haram Esh-Sharif. She'd been gagged, and her clothing slit from neck to knee. A silver dagger had been placed in the ground near her eyes so that she would have no choice but to look at it. Standing over her, still screeching words, was a demon, the wings on his back extended like brown sails, and his arms raised to the clouds.
"Which one's Ria?" Giles asked as he pulled a package from his shirt pocket.
"None of them."
"Not the one at the front?"
Boris checked again. "No, he's not there. Shit, Rupert, I'm counting forty-seven of them. We'd better wait for our guys."
Giles stood. "Wait here. See if you can spot the grandmother. I'll be right back."
"Where are you going, and what's that?" Boris eyed the package. "It looks like powder."
"It is a combination of roots, ground down. I'm going to take a turn around the perimeter and scatter this."
"Why? So they'll smell sweet?" Boris looked dubious. "Linda said something about you drawing pentagrams."
"I'm going to cast a spell called Pahthum," Giles said. "Faerie Ring. I could put a smaller group to sleep, but there are too many here to do that. The spell will slow their perceptions and reactions, giving us an advantage." He left, running from cover to cover, going faster than he would have liked, but knowing he'd only have so much time before the demons began sensing the spell.
He was 180 degrees from Boris when the first demons reacted. Shaking their heads and groaning, several of the legion stumbled forward, their weapons dropping with loud clatters to the ground. The demon with the wings stopped his prayer, eyed them, then lifted his head and sniffed the air.
Suddenly, he opened his mouth and vented such a piercing wail that Giles thought his eardrums had exploded. He clutched onto the tail of the T-Rex to steady himself, and felt it vibrate from the sound.
The winged devil looked steadily around the clearing. "A man has come."
Two of his people dropped to their knees, holding their heads in pain as the spell settled on them.
"We shall find you," the demon hissed, his gaze drawing closer to where Giles was crouched.
Giles drew his sword, and hoped Boris would stay put until the attention of the horde was on him. He waited, and, inevitably, the dark eyes settled on the place where he was.
For a time, they looked at each other. Then the demon's mouth curled into a smile. "Man, watch what you cannot stop."
He leaned down and grabbed the dagger by Sahrene's face. She tried to scream through the gag as she saw it lifted over her.
"No!" Giles yelled. He rushed forward, but there was one of the legion in front of him, then another. He slashed at them, dropping them easily in their sluggish movement brought on by the Pahthum, but there were too many, coming by twos, then threes. The flash of Boris' flame-thrower appeared at the other side, vague in the fog.
Giles saw the dagger plunge and, with sickening clarity though he couldn't see for the demons, knew then that he'd failed.
The winged incubus looked up the sky and cried, "Take our obedience, oh Father! Look what we have done for love of You! Speak to us and let us look upon You!"
The demons around Giles suddenly stilled, as if he was no longer worth their attention. Then, one by one, they raised their faces to the sky.
- - - - -
Nothing happened.
It wasn't as though Giles expected the heavens to open, for he didn't believe there was such a place anyway, however he thought the demon's fervent prayer would cause something. A roll of thunder perhaps. A few more clouds. Even *he* could make it rain.
But nothing happened at all.
Giles shook out the rest of the Pahthum powder, putting several of the legion near him to sleep. When they fell, he could see Sahrene, lying motionlessly over the rock, blood across her abdomen. "Out of curiosity," he said grimly, "what were you hoping for?"
The winged creature regarded him passionlessly. Several of his host began crowding forward, and Giles raised his sword. There were about thirty demons left, and he couldn't see Boris. He hoped the other man was still alive.
"Where's Ria?" Giles demanded.
"We killed the man," replied the leader of the horde.
"Why? Was he backing out? Hedging on the part when he murders his wife?"
"He had no regard for the woman," came the high-pitched tone. "But this is *our* time, not man's." He looked up at the sky again. Clearly, the creature had expected something to happen. At last, he said, "We have decided the fault is yours, man. You will die as sacrifice."
Several of the host approached Giles. He cut through them, but not easily, and the rest were now coming, attempting to surround him. An axe caught his arm, and a broadsword swiped so near to his neck that he felt the slice in the air. Slashing furiously, he backed towards the T-Rex.
The ground trembled under Giles' feet. At first he didn't notice, his attention on the gruesome army with the scavenged weapons, but then he found his balance compromised. Strokes went wild as he fell backwards. He felt another dig in his arm, and barely managed to dislodge the blade before the ground began shaking furiously.
The demons scattered. Giles heard a roar and caught a metallic flash at the corner of his eye. The earthquake had been caused by motorcycles rumbling in, the men on them whooping as they chased the demons down like cattle.
"Boris!" Giles yelled, trying to get to his elbows. One of his arms wouldn't work. "BORIS!"
He felt himself grabbed and lifted, the movement swinging his vision dizzily. He saw the T-Rex, then a large circle of dark blood. His?
He was thrown down again. A sweep of brown wing confirmed what had been holding him. The revolting face appeared an inch from his own, the visage more beast than human, the lips curled in a grimace over long, grey teeth.
"Mine!" the demon shrieked, but he was yelling at someone behind Giles. "The man is mine!"
And a voice Giles knew as well as his own said in reply, "Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One."
"MINE!"
"Blessed is His name, whose glorious kingdom is forever and ever. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your might."
The demon clawed into Giles, convulsing as if the words were causing him pain. "You shall die! We will take you to the throat of hell and pitch you into the darkness! We will pluck your eyes and your tongue, and burn your flesh in the lakes of fire!"
"These words that I command you today shall be upon your heart. Repeat them to your childrenB"
"Ira, RUN!" Giles cried, as the creature screamed again.
"YOUR CHILDREN SHALL BURN IN FRONT OF YOU, AND WE WILL EAT THEIR HEARTS AND SPIT IN YOUR FACE!"
Without breaking, Ira said, "B and talk about them when you sit in your home, and when you walk in the street; when you lie down and when you rise up. Hold fast to them as a sign upon your hand, and let them be as reminders before your eyes. Write them on the doorposts of your home and at your gates."
The demon let go of Giles. He fell onto the hard ground.
"DIE! DIE" howled the demon.
Someone brushed by Giles. He reached out blindly as Ira said, "Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. Blessed is His name, whose glorious kingdom is forever and ever."
Ira's voice became fainter, and Giles panicked. "IRA!" he called, thinking the other man was being pulled away.
Then Giles realized that every noise was getting fainter. His arm stopped hurting and, when he opened his eyes, he could see.
Giles' first sight was of Ira, of his vivid copper hair and his long-fingered hands which were clasping Giles' sword. But the angle was wrong, and it took Giles a moment to realize that he was looking *down*.
He saw the top of Ira's head, looked farther, and saw himself lying on the ground between Ira's feet.
Giles extended his hand, but he was being lifted away from Ira. Now he could see the battle, men on cycles running over demons, and Boris, still on his feet, swinging the fire of his flame-thrower from side to side.
A demon ran towards Ira, paused, then backed away. Giles saw that the area around Ira was empty. He was only standing quietly, yet the legion avoided him.
Giles felt himself pulled higher. He saw the T-Rex. Several men were at it, rocking it back and forth. Finally it fell forward, its sharp, fibreglass teeth flying down towards a group of demons. They looked up as the open mouth came down and engulfed them.
Giles looked again for Ira, wanting to see him one more time, but he was high up now and moving more quickly.
He felt heat on his back. He turned and found he was in the midst of a bright light. There was a sense that he was not alone, that if he reached out, he would touch someone. The feeling was comforting, reminding him of nights recently when he'd woken from a nightmare to find Ira beside him.
Giles began perceiving something else in the light, a point he was moving towards at a tremendous speed. His chest burned with longing. Whatever it was, he wanted to get to it, and wanted this desperately.
He heard a noise. It bothered him. At first he tried to ignore it, and kept his face towards the centre of the light and all the warmth he could feel waiting there. The noise came again, and he recognized it as the sound of someone crying.
Giles looked down, wondering where the crying was coming from. The moment he turned away, he felt himself fall back. The light rushed away. He flailed, trying to find something to grab onto, but there was nothing, and he plummeted until he abruptly hit bottom.
The crying sounded louder. Giles opened his eyes to the sight of a dim room.
He was in a bed. A tube led from his arm up to a clear bag. A machine beeped on a table beside him. And there was something strapped over his mouth.
He tried to move his head. At his action, a shadow rose beside him. Ira leaned over him.
"Oh, Rupert," Ira said softly. "I thought you'd died." As he loosened the oxygen mask on Giles' face, Giles looked at him and saw that both of his cheeks were wet.
He swallowed. "You were crying. I heard you."
Ira stroked Giles' forehead, uncaring of the tears which were still flowing down his cheeks. "Yes," he replied. "Yes."
Giles glanced up, but all he could see was a ceiling. "I was so happy. I know how she felt."
"Ssh, Rupert. Rest." Giles smiled as he closed his eyes. "I can't do better than this, that someone will cry over me."
- - - - -
Giles woke to the sounds of people talking quietly. The conversation invaded his fuzzy, medicated dreams, and he struggled awake.
His first sight was of Boris, sporting a shiner over his right eye. "About time you joined us, Rupert."
Giles tried to speak, but his throat felt like sandpaper. Someone lifted him and held a cool glass to his mouth. He turned his head, and found Ira.
"Did we win?" Giles asked, and Ira smiled.
"Of course."
Boris cranked the head of Giles' bed up a few notches. "Rupert, I was just telling Chris about your swordwork. You fence like Zorro, man."
Ira's smile faded. "However, Mrs. Ria and her great-grandmother died."
"Both?" Giles asked, appalled.
Chris Steffler came up to the end of the bed. "We found Grandmother Belle at the side of the trail. They just...threw her body. But no one else died. It could have been much worse."
"I think you took down ten of them," Boris said, sounding impressed.
"But I didn't save those women."
"You didn't have a chance," Chris said.
"None of us did," Boris said softly. "There were so *many* of them."
Giles turned his face away as an image of Sahrene rose before his eyes - Sahrene by the stove, laughing as she braided challah, then at dinner, candlelight shining in her eyes.
His gaze came to rest on a pot of huge, garish flowers. In the middle of the blossoms was a stuffed, yellow bear.
He blinked. "What on earth is that?"
Giles looked back at the men. Ira said, "Our housekeeper, George, sent it. He said the bear is called Rupert." He laid his hand on Giles'. "Mr. Steffler translated Mr. Ria's papers, and knows what the demon host was attempting."
Chris dropped some papers on the end of Giles' bed, and hitched up his pants. "Simply put, they wanted war. Have you read Paradise Lost? Milton wasn't far off."
"Killing a woman was a declaration of war?" Giles frowned. "Demons kill humans every day."
"This was supposed to be different," Chris said. "Austano Ria planned to sacrifice his own child on Haram Esh-Sharif, because this was part of a contract. Man proves his obedience, and God comes down from the heavens and speaks."
"And did He?" Giles asked.
"Not that anyone heard," Boris said uncomfortably.
"At first, I couldn't understand why these demons would want that," Chris said. "The answer was in here." He gestured at the papers. "The gates of heaven are insurmountable. When they're closed, there is no way through them. But when God speaks, the gates of heaven are open, and Ria's legion could then invade. There was a problem, though. Ria wished to wait until Sahrene was several months pregnant. His 'friends' didn't want to. To circumvent them, he tried to hide Haram Esh-Sharif. They retaliated by killing him."
"They said the prayers themselves, performed the sacrifice, and it didn't work," Giles said. He thought for a moment, and added, "The contract was between man and God."
"Yes," Chris said. "Ria was human and is, therefore, considered to be a child of God. Demons are not. Though God created them, they were cast out. When the demons called, they went unheard or were ignored."
"Perhaps not," Giles murmured, and Ira eyed him.
"Ria had it wrong as well," Chris said. "God wants man's willingness to sacrifice, but I don't believe He wants the sacrifice completed."
Giles said, "The piece of Haram Esh-Sharif should be returned to Jerusalem."
Chris grinned. "The Museum Director and I will accompany it back. It's an incredible honour. I've seen Haram Esh-Sharif in The Dome of the Rock, but to actually touch a piece of it, to hold it in my hands..." he trailed off, overcome.
Boris looked over at Ira. "You're too quiet, Rosenberg."
Ira chuckled. "I was just considering the irony. Mr. Ria was afraid of you, a man, yet he would have started a war with God."
"Well, he wasn't a bright man," Boris laughed. "Rupert, you look whipped."
"We should leave," Chris agreed, as he gathered up the papers. "I'll have to say goodbye to you now. My plane leaves in the morning."
"Have a safe journey," Ira said. "I'm going to have a ball," Chris said. He left, but Boris lingered.
"Do you want me to bring you back anything? Coffee? Something to eat?" he asked Ira.
"I'm fine, thank you."
To Giles, Boris said, "He won't leave. We have to come here to talk to him."
He went out the door. Ira got up to close it after him, turned off most of the overhead lights, then returned to the bed and sat on the edge of it.
"Do you realize, Rupert, we have only been in this town for a week? I'd hoped to give you a quiet summer."
Giles counted seven days. "It's Tuesday? What about your classes?"
"They'll wait. Everything can wait," Ira said. "Do you want some more water?"
"No," Giles said, "just you." He closed his eyes as Ira's arms went around him. A few minutes later, he said, "There's more."
"Hmm?" Ira asked.
"There's more than what's in this world."
In a rather Professorish voice, Ira said, "I will refrain from saying I told you so."
- - - - -
Giles got out of the hospital and, after a convalescence which could have been measured in minutes, took Ira to bed.
Afterwards, while they were lazing languidly under the covers, Ira said, "My daughter called today. This time, when she asked how you were, I did not have to lie."
Giles kissed him. "Ira, don't bring your daughter into bed with us."
"Rupert, I was merely making conversation. You are prudish."
"I am not. *You're* the one always bolting to close the curtains every time I come out of the shower."
"That is because there is an elderly woman with binoculars out the back," Ira said.
"She's our early warning system," Giles said. "We could use her in Sunnydale."
"We'll ask her in the morning."
They cuddled. "Are you tired?" Giles asked.
"No."
"Do you want to get up?"
"Absolutely not," Ira replied.
They kissed, then again and again.
"Are you *sure*?" Giles asked.
"Rupert!"
(end)
- - - - -
"Sleepless"
by Jann Arden
Take your coat and shoes off
Come and sit beside me
We could talk for hours
Or we could just do nothing
Don't you think it's funny
Tell me what the point is
We could die tomorrow
Might as well enjoy this
Four billion people surround us
So many souls lose their way
All that we have is each other
And that's all I've ever wanted
Give me all your disappointments
I'll give you my secrets
We could lay our heads down
Or be forever sleepless
STRANGE ATTRACTORS (Story III)