Title: The Summoning (4/5)
Author: Sandra Pascoe
Disclaimer: Giles doesn't belong to me -I'm only borrowing him. Can I keep him...please?

James Hadley held the car door open, inclining his head slightly as Gerald brushed past him.

"Shall I wait up for you, sir?" James tried to keep his voice even and disinterested.

"I don't care what you do," replied Gerald irritably as he slapped the chauffeur on the shoulder. "Come on, come on - get this bloody car moving, you damned idiot!"

"Where to, sir?" The chauffeur exchanged a quick glance with James and then gazed steadily forward once more.

"The Museum - and don't take all bloody night!"

James shut the door and stepped back, watching expressionlessly as the car pulled out of the drive. He sighed and thrust his hands into his pockets, walking back inside the house. <I'm not cut out to be a butler,> he thought, <this assignment had better be over soon.> James glanced around and then went into the lounge, closing the door firmly behind him. He took his mobile phone out of his pocket and quickly thumbed a few buttons.

"Yes - could you put me through to Quentin Travers, please?"

**********

<They are close. Good.> The Sphere pulsed and the air shimmered, small bursts of energy coalescing to form a man who stood unmoving in the centre of the room. He was a thin, almost gaunt figure, with piercing blue eyes. He looked down at himself and smiled, taking deep lungfuls of air. He held his hands up in front of his face, wiggled his fingers and then clenched his fists.

"I had forgotten what it was like," he murmured, glancing towards the Sphere. "Despite everything, I can never quite understand why you want to give all this up."

The Sphere was silent and still, no light emanating from it and the man shrugged.

"I didn't actually expect an answer. So what name shall I use THIS time?"

The Sphere pulsed and the man smiled.

"Julian - yes. That is familiar enough." Julian walked over to the table and picked up the Sphere. He glanced around then opened a drawer, carefully placing the Sphere inside and gazing down at it. He reached down and briefly ran a finger over the odd jewels dotted around the metallic surface.

"You said there are two this time. Am I to be guided by you or shall I use my own judgement?"

The Sphere pulsed and Julian sighed.

"It really doesn't matter to you, does it? Who I was? What I did? What I achieved before you?" Julian shook his head and closed the drawer. He wandered slowly around the room, examining various objects before picking up a book and flicking through it. He stopped and gazed at a photograph of a statue. <And what does history say about me? Am I considered an innovator? A man before my time? Or am I considered a tyrant?> He read the accompanying caption and shrugged slightly. <Why am I not surprised?>

**********

Giles slammed on the brakes, bringing the car screeching to a halt outside the Museum. Without a backward glance, he leapt out and ran inside. It never occurred to him that the security system had been deactivated - that the cameras were off - he simply continued running, knowing exactly where he had to go. Nothing else mattered - nothing else existed. He slowed suddenly, pushing open a door and stepping inside a large, dimly lit room. Giles stood perfectly still, unblinking, his breathing shallow and even. His eyes were glazed and unfocussed - the heavy grey fog in his mind completely impenetrable. The voice told him to wait - so he waited.

Julian walked up to Giles and casually waved a hand in front of his face.

"So, which one is this?" He said aloud, his head on one side as though listening for something. He nodded and then continued, "he has weaknesses but he also has strength. What of the other?"

Julian paused again and then shrugged. "So we wait."

**********

John Downing slowed up, shaking his head as he watched Giles dash into the Museum. <I knew it,> he thought, <a bloody loon.> He parked along the side of the road, opposite the front entrance of the Museum. He rummaged around through the empty wrappers and old papers on the passenger seat, finally extracting a grubby looking mobile phone. He started to dial and then stopped, his attention caught by another car pulling up in front of the Museum. John watched intently as an elderly gentleman got out of the car and, after speaking briefly to the driver, moved quickly inside the large, imposing building. <What's this? A mother's meeting?> He shrugged and continued dialling, keeping one eye on the other car, which turned around and headed back the way it had come, soon disappearing from sight.

"Yes. He's now at the Museum - yes - and so is Gerald Montague." John nodded. "He's just gone inside. You want me to follow or wait here?" There was a lengthy pause before John smiled to himself. "Certainly, sir," he continued. "I'll report as soon as anything happens."

John's smile widened into a grin and he disconnected the call, tossing the phone casually onto the cluttered seat once more. He settled back into the seat, shifting around and trying to get comfortable, his mind turning to food again. <Well, McDonald's is out - I can't justify popping back and risking missing something here. What else is there? Pizza,> he thought triumphantly, <I could get a pizza delivered. Now,> he frowned and looked around, <where the hell did I put my phone?>

**********

"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?"

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