Unseen Ficlet
Jul. 15th, 2007 05:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
lilachigh.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
still_grrrTitle: Sleeper
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilachigh
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Prompt: 022 Unseen
Characters: Giles, Quentin Travers, Buffy, Faith
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ME not little me.
Season: Season 6
SLEEPER
“Another brandy, Quentin?” Sir Peregrine Bright-Smith lifted the glass decanter that was old when Napoleon had met his match at Waterloo.
“Ah, thank you, Perry. An interesting flavour. Peach, perhaps?”
“Your nose is never wrong, old man.” The soft amber liquid gurgled into the glass. “I meant to ask, what did you decide to do about Rupert Giles? I heard he’d returned from his little sojourn with our American brothers and sisters following his Slayer’s demise.”
Quentin Travers leant back in his dark green leather chair and gazed round the book-lined splendour of the club library. It was the perfect place to relax after a day dealing with Watcher Council problems. “Hmmm, yes, quite. Things have moved on a pace.” He swirled the brandy round, warming the glass to release the aroma. “There’s a little muddle that needs sorting out.”
“Well, that’s your speciality. Do you remember the cricket match with Harrow when you -?”
“Yes, yes, good old days indeed, Perry! But at the moment we have two Slayers in America, one in prison and the other miraculously raised from the dead by her interfering friends.“
“Ah!”
“Ah, indeed.”
There was a long silence, then – “So – I know you, Quentin, you won’t let the muddle continue.”
Quentin placed his glass carefully on the side table and steepled his hands in front of him. “The one in prison is a loose canon, but she will be dealt with by one of the other inmates. A few dollars go a long way in the American incarceration system. As for Miss Summers…”
“She is the only working Slayer at the moment.”
“Yes. Rupert Giles has, as you rightly say, flown back to carry on his watching brief, although to be strictly honest, that young lady goes her own way and always has done.” He picked up his brandy glass again and sipped slowly. “I could wait quietly in the wings until the natural stresses and strains of her calling lead to her actual death, but she has friends, supporters, even – so I am reliably told – another vampire lover.”
Sir Peregrine tutted and pulled a face of disgust. “Women!”
“Indeed. But have no fear; I have recently activated one of our unseen sleeper agents. The instructions and plan to kill Buffy Summers were implanted in his mind when I last had the misfortune to visit Sunnydale. He knows nothing of that, of course. He believes he is acting from his own twisted genius.”
He shuddered gently. “I was always of the opinion that Rupert Giles couldn’t control his Slayer, and, sadly, I have been proven right. Once she has gone and the one called Faith is also dead, a new Slayer will be called and we can all get back to normal.”
“In time to enjoy Wimbledon?”
“Oh yes, by the end of May at the very latest.”
“Does he have a name, this sleeper agent of yours?”
Quentin frowned, trying to remembe. There had been so many plots, so many Americans with odd names. “I believe it is Meers. Warren Meers.”
Author:
lilachighRating: PG
Word Count: 500
Prompt: 022 Unseen
Characters: Giles, Quentin Travers, Buffy, Faith
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ME not little me.
Season: Season 6
SLEEPER
“Another brandy, Quentin?” Sir Peregrine Bright-Smith lifted the glass decanter that was old when Napoleon had met his match at Waterloo.
“Ah, thank you, Perry. An interesting flavour. Peach, perhaps?”
“Your nose is never wrong, old man.” The soft amber liquid gurgled into the glass. “I meant to ask, what did you decide to do about Rupert Giles? I heard he’d returned from his little sojourn with our American brothers and sisters following his Slayer’s demise.”
Quentin Travers leant back in his dark green leather chair and gazed round the book-lined splendour of the club library. It was the perfect place to relax after a day dealing with Watcher Council problems. “Hmmm, yes, quite. Things have moved on a pace.” He swirled the brandy round, warming the glass to release the aroma. “There’s a little muddle that needs sorting out.”
“Well, that’s your speciality. Do you remember the cricket match with Harrow when you -?”
“Yes, yes, good old days indeed, Perry! But at the moment we have two Slayers in America, one in prison and the other miraculously raised from the dead by her interfering friends.“
“Ah!”
“Ah, indeed.”
There was a long silence, then – “So – I know you, Quentin, you won’t let the muddle continue.”
Quentin placed his glass carefully on the side table and steepled his hands in front of him. “The one in prison is a loose canon, but she will be dealt with by one of the other inmates. A few dollars go a long way in the American incarceration system. As for Miss Summers…”
“She is the only working Slayer at the moment.”
“Yes. Rupert Giles has, as you rightly say, flown back to carry on his watching brief, although to be strictly honest, that young lady goes her own way and always has done.” He picked up his brandy glass again and sipped slowly. “I could wait quietly in the wings until the natural stresses and strains of her calling lead to her actual death, but she has friends, supporters, even – so I am reliably told – another vampire lover.”
Sir Peregrine tutted and pulled a face of disgust. “Women!”
“Indeed. But have no fear; I have recently activated one of our unseen sleeper agents. The instructions and plan to kill Buffy Summers were implanted in his mind when I last had the misfortune to visit Sunnydale. He knows nothing of that, of course. He believes he is acting from his own twisted genius.”
He shuddered gently. “I was always of the opinion that Rupert Giles couldn’t control his Slayer, and, sadly, I have been proven right. Once she has gone and the one called Faith is also dead, a new Slayer will be called and we can all get back to normal.”
“In time to enjoy Wimbledon?”
“Oh yes, by the end of May at the very latest.”
“Does he have a name, this sleeper agent of yours?”
Quentin frowned, trying to remembe. There had been so many plots, so many Americans with odd names. “I believe it is Meers. Warren Meers.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}