Untitled for prompt of bloom
May. 10th, 2014 07:11 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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giles_shortsSummary: Scene between two Council members discussing Giles as the next candidate for Watcher.
Note: Written for a prompt at Giles Shorts: bloom
Rating: G
Characters: Quentin Travers, OC
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be … once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha!
Note: It doesn't have Giles in it, but it's about Giles.
Approaching Quentin at the club, rather than at HQ, wasn’t an attack per se, it was more of a strategic choice. Seated before the fireplace in a pair of identical leather chairs and sipping brandy, they were equals. There were certain things Ashworth could say to an equal that he couldn’t to the head of the Council. “Rupert Giles as the next Watcher?”
Nothing in Quentin’s expression said he’d rather be having this conversation in his office or, even better, not at all. “Even as a lad, he showed promise.”
“And as a young man of, say, seventeen or eighteen?”
“He came back to the Council. That’s what counts.”
Quentin’s that is the end of this conversation tone did nothing to quell Ashworth. “But has Giles truly abandoned his wayward nature or is the rebellious youth chafing against his fetters like Tiamat writhes under the earth, waiting for a chance to burst forth?”
One raised eyebrow suggested that Quentin found Ashworth’s analogy excessive. “I prefer to think of his youthful antics as the seedbed out of which a responsible adult has bloomed, an adult whose renegade past will help him handle the current Slayer. We’ve tried an orthodox approach. The Watcher died. We need a field operative who can perform in an unconventional environment.”
“We can all do that, Quentin.”
“Merrick proves we can’t.”
“Not Giles,” Ashworth said. “The old guard won’t stand for it. We’ll block that choice.”
Quentin casually sipped at his brandy. “You can try. You won’t succeed.”
“Quentin, you have to know that this will blow up in your face.”
“We’ll see.”
Note: Written for a prompt at Giles Shorts: bloom
Rating: G
Characters: Quentin Travers, OC
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be … once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha!
Note: It doesn't have Giles in it, but it's about Giles.
Approaching Quentin at the club, rather than at HQ, wasn’t an attack per se, it was more of a strategic choice. Seated before the fireplace in a pair of identical leather chairs and sipping brandy, they were equals. There were certain things Ashworth could say to an equal that he couldn’t to the head of the Council. “Rupert Giles as the next Watcher?”
Nothing in Quentin’s expression said he’d rather be having this conversation in his office or, even better, not at all. “Even as a lad, he showed promise.”
“And as a young man of, say, seventeen or eighteen?”
“He came back to the Council. That’s what counts.”
Quentin’s that is the end of this conversation tone did nothing to quell Ashworth. “But has Giles truly abandoned his wayward nature or is the rebellious youth chafing against his fetters like Tiamat writhes under the earth, waiting for a chance to burst forth?”
One raised eyebrow suggested that Quentin found Ashworth’s analogy excessive. “I prefer to think of his youthful antics as the seedbed out of which a responsible adult has bloomed, an adult whose renegade past will help him handle the current Slayer. We’ve tried an orthodox approach. The Watcher died. We need a field operative who can perform in an unconventional environment.”
“We can all do that, Quentin.”
“Merrick proves we can’t.”
“Not Giles,” Ashworth said. “The old guard won’t stand for it. We’ll block that choice.”
Quentin casually sipped at his brandy. “You can try. You won’t succeed.”
“Quentin, you have to know that this will blow up in your face.”
“We’ll see.”
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