There was a buzzing, harsh and incessant, the sound of which bounced off the walls and lodged itself deep within his aching head.
‘Smee, put an end to that infernal racket,’ he commanded. Then waited for his will to be done.
He waited and waited, and the buzzing buzzed and buzzed.
Pushed into action by the intolerable noise, muttering vile threats towards the insolent dog who had dared defy him, he cracked open an eye and saw to his horror that the noise was coming from a clock not an arm’s reach from where he lay.
Now it must be stated that this was a man of indomitable courage, and whilst ninety-nine men in a hundred on finding themselves so close to an object that to them was a source of profound terror would cower, tremble and allow fear to rob them of their senses, he kept his wits about him. And with a clear mind and a steady aim lashed out in order to plunge his hook into it, and destroy this clock as he had done countless others.
And yet what smashed into the clock was not an iron claw but a fist. A fist formed by a hand, connected to a wrist that became an arm - his arm, the arm that had been so cruelly hacked from his body many moons ago. He sat bolt upright and stared at his arm in wonder, at first too uncertain of the veracity of this miracle to do anything other than look. Soon he had flexed each of the fingers, cautiously then forcefully pressed one hand against the other and rejoiced in the sensation. His arm was here, the ragged stump he couldn’t bear to lay eyes upon and the pain, that tormented him as a caged lion is by a swallow, had gone.
Only when these facts were established beyond all doubt did Captain James Hook glance around him and realise that he was hopelessly lost.
********************
On the other side of the town Buffy had been woken by a kiss and dozed pleasantly in her lover’s arms until time and duty forced them apart. She was not beautiful as portraits and statues are beautiful, yet her even features, toned body and natural poise refined themselves into something that edged towards perfection. It does not seem possible that the fate of the world rests upon these small shoulders, however it most assuredly does. Though on a morning like this one, as she made her way towards The Espresso Pump, Buffy wore her burden so lightly that it had little effect upon her sunny disposition and countenance.
For Buffy the day was entirely free to make of what she will. Riley was training, Willow was studying, her Mom was at the gallery hopefully selling and Xander and Anya were…she didn’t really want to think about that one. That everyone else was occupied did put a small dent in Buffy’s good humour, for she was one of those ones who are happiest when at a task, and did not very much care to be either quiet or alone. Belatedly she thought of another name, and on thinking of Giles it occurred to her that she had no idea what he did with his time when not fully engaged by his duties as her Watcher. Drifting past the coffee shop, Buffy found it difficult to conjure up a strong image of Giles at all.
At length her mind settled on three distinguishing features, each beginning with the letter ‘t’. Tall - which he certainly was. Tired - which often looked to be the case especially when the stresses of long nights and frequent hurt etched themselves onto his face. Tweed - which Buffy knew that he no longer wore, yet to her that fabric remained an integral part of who he was. Thoughts of Giles guided her feet, for soon Buffy found herself stood outside his door. For a split-second she considered knocking, then barged in without warning.
‘Woah, Giles. Jumpy, much?’ breezed Buffy as she walked past the man who’d leapt to his feet as soon as she’d walked in and now stood rigidly upright, staring at her as she flopped onto the couch.
‘Maybe it’s all that tea,’ suggested Buffy. ‘You do know it’s got like a ton of caffeine in it? Of course you know, you’re Knowledge Guy. Also Tea Guy, so you must be permanently wired.’
She glanced over to him.
‘Permanently wired in a totally calm English way.’
‘Forgive my intrusion upon your speech; I must ask who you are.’
‘What? Giles, what is this?’ asked Buffy seriously.
‘Giles? No, no, no. My name is…’ he hesitated. ‘Alas, my real name no longer carries the influence that once it did. The name by which I was known has this very day become a miraculous irrelevance, however I sign myself as Jas.’
‘Jas,’ repeated Buffy.
‘Captain,’ he added with a flourish.
Buffy began to run through potential causes for Giles going completely schiz. First of all she settled on medical.
‘So…um Jas. Been hit on the head recently?’
His confused gaze met her questioning one; in that moment Buffy knew that something Hellmouthy was to blame.
Giles had striking eyes, locked as they were behind glass they were not among the first things that people noticed about him. If a woman possessed such eyes then it would be quite correct to describe them as pretty. On Giles such eyes were unusual, unusual and mismatched. The green of the right was matched in the left aside from a tiny flaw in the form of a patch of amber. Buffy now saw that the amber had vanished, replaced by a fiery red, like a spark, like a flame, like Hell itself.
Something else was disturbing about those eyes, aside from their unnatural gleam. Buffy was well used to them being trained upon her, but never with the very obvious desire they now contained. Suddenly she wanted to be anywhere but here.
‘I need to get some people,’ she said as she headed for the door. ‘Don’t leave this place.’
‘Will you return?’
Buffy nodded.
‘Then I am more than glad to remain here and await you.’
As she closed the door Buffy heard Jas call out. ‘You never told me your name.’
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
