Sandra Pascoe - Who Needs to Dream? 08

Title: Who Needs to Dream? (8/13)
Author: Sandra Pascoe
Disclaimer: Giles doesn't belong to me - I'm only borrowing him. Can I keep him, please?

< >indicates thoughts

Giles tossed his pen onto the desk, sat back and stretched.

"Thank you for that," he murmured.

"In other words, you can't work it out." Giles smiled slightly.

"I'm sure," replied Giles. "Henry's theory is that the various cultures represented, together with the intricacy of the carving, is indicative of an advanced, sea-faring race that existed prior to our current understanding."

"Henry will be pleased to learn that he has a supporter."

The office door suddenly opened and Nicholas Goldsmith peered in.

"Ahhh, you ARE still here," he said, closing the door behind him. "Henry tells me you've requested the day off tomorrow."

Giles narrowed his eyes. "Yes. I have a funeral to attend."

"Of course," Nicholas held up a hand. "Not a problem. It's just that you' ve been a bit distracted recently. I was getting rather concerned."

"I've had some things on my mind," replied Giles and Nicholas sighed, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

"Tell me honestly, Rupert," he said, "have you received another offer?

"Offer?"

"For your services. You must be in demand and the Museum can't pay as well as some could."

"No," smiled Giles. "No other offer and, for the record, the money isn't important. I have no intention of leaving, Nicholas."

**********

Sceleratus stood in the middle of the cellar, gazing impassively at the Hooded Man.

"You have need of me?" He asked.

"Yes. I have someone else for you to kill. Same method as before - and no one else is to be harmed, especially not Rupert Giles - not yet. Do you understand?"

Sceleratus bowed his head. "Yes, master."

The Hooded Man nodded briefly and picked up the phone.

"Time to set the scene," he said as he dialled a number. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Henry? It's Rupert."

"Oh, hello, old man," came the reply. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine thanks. I've found something important. I need you to come over to my place immediately."

"Uhhh yes, of course." There was a slight pause. "Rupert, you don't sound too good. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Hurry, Henry."

The Hooded Man put the phone down and giggled.

"You wish this one to be killed in the home of Rupert Giles?" Asked Sceleratus with a frown.

"Of course. Maybe now Rupert will realise that this is all about him." The Hooded Man glanced at Sceleratus. "This could be the last time I call you here. After this, I expect Rupert to pull out all the stops to find you."

"Why do you wish him to travel to my realm? I can just as easily kill him here."

"Tut, tut," the Hooded Man giggled and waggled his finger at Sceleratus, "that's a secret. He HAS to die in your realm - that's all I need to say. You will follow your orders and I will consider granting you your freedom."

**********

"There IS one thing though, Nicholas," said Giles, glancing up.

"Oh?" Nicholas frowned. "What's that?"

"There may be times when it's necessary for me to take the occasional sabbatical and I would also appreciate a degree of flexibility when it comes to my working hours."

"I can't see that being a problem," replied Nicholas with a smile. "I'm sure we can come to mutually beneficial arrangement regarding your working hours."

Giles groaned slightly. "Why do the words 'mutually beneficial' send a shiver up my spine?"

"I'm not a complete ogre, Rupert. I merely try to obtain the best deal I can - in the interests of the Museum of course."

"Oh, of course."

"And the considered opinion of the members of the Board - and myself - is that it is in the Museum's best interests to keep you here. We are prepared to negotiate certain concessions but." Nicholas paused and looked hard at Giles, "don't push it too far."

"Now that's better," remarked Giles, standing up. "For a while there you were entirely too amenable."

Nicholas smiled slightly. "We'll schedule a meeting for next week and sort out the details."

"That's fine," replied Giles, picking up his briefcase. "Forgive me for rushing off, Nicholas - I have an early start in the morning."

"No problem, Rupert - and I'm sorry for your loss."

**********

He stood in the shadows; his eyes closed as he patiently waited. He tensed, nostrils twitching and eyes opening at the sound of an engine getting closer and closer. <Is that him? Is it the one to die?> Sceleratus relaxed back against the wall, closing his eyes once more as the engine continued on its way without stopping. <Obviously not,> he sighed. <Please hurry. I wish for this to be over. He said this could be the last - with the exception of Rupert Giles of course. And then what? I have followed his instructions - will he set me free?> Sceleratus opened his eyes as another engine interrupted the silence. Closer and closer, louder and louder, he willed it to stop, his body as tense as a coiled spring. He relaxed, relief flowing through him as the engine drew to a halt outside. He stepped closer to the lounge door, ensuring he had a clear view of the hall and front door. A shadow appeared at the door, accompanied by a firm knocking and Sceleratus stepped back into the shadows.

"Rupert? Are you in there?" The voice sounded slightly puzzled and Sceleratus permitted himself a small smile. <The door is unlocked. Come inside.> Another series of knocks, the rattle of the door handle, the creak of the door opening and closing again.

"Rupert?" The voice was closer, no longer muffled by the door. Footsteps advanced slowly along the hall, tentative and uncertain. Sceleratus stood just inside the lounge, watching as the shadow in the hall drew closer and closer. A face peered around the lounge door, eyes widening in horror as Sceleratus stepped forward and grinned broadly.

"Boo!"

Henry emitted a high pitch shriek, his eyes rolled back and he slumped limply to the floor. Sceleratus tutted and stepped forward. <These humans - no stamina. This one makes it too easy. Where is the challenge? Where is the sport? Pathetic.> He knelt on the floor and gently placed his hands around Henry's throat. He began to squeeze, gradually increasing the pressure. <Are you watching, sorcerer? Do you like what you see?>

**********

Giles pulled into the drive and frowned.

"I wonder what Henry is doing here?" He muttered, stopping behind the other car.

"Neither do I," murmured Giles, getting out of the car. His neck and back were tingling madly, his muscles as tense as a coiled spring.

"By the pricking of my thumbs." whispered Giles, moving quietly to the front door. He curled his hand around the door handle, taking a deep breath and slowly pushing the handle down. There was no resistance, just a soft, barely noticeable click as the catch drew back.

<Interesting. You locked the door this morning.>

Giles pushed open the door, his eyes narrowing at the sight that met his gaze: Sceleratus was kneeling next to Henry's motionless body - its hands wrapped firmly around his throat. Giles didn't hesitate. He grabbed an umbrella from the stand, reversed it, took one large step forward and executed a near perfect straight drive, catching Sceleratus full on the chin. Sceleratus roared as his head snapped back and he fell backwards on the floor. Giles stared briefly at the broken remains of his umbrella before tossing it aside and advancing with a kind of angry determination. Sceleratus scrambled to his feet, trying to ignore the pain in his jaw. He stared intently at Giles, bowed and, before Giles' angry eyes, he slowly faded from view.