Giles as Big Bad: The Pack: Diedre
Nov. 15th, 2015 09:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Apparently the way to Miss Deidre Page was through her luscious neighbor. After their third date, Isla had called and invited Cecil over for tea. “Deidre's agreed to see you. I don't know if you'll learn anything useful, but it straight from the horse's mouth has to be better than rumors and gossip.”
Tea with Miss Page. Cecil almost felt as if he were being taken home to meet Isla's mother except, of course, Isla and Deidre weren't related. Still it felt like something real couples did, sit down to tea with an old fogey. Cecil was surprised at how distinctly untrapped he felt. Mother had once suggested that young women might use ploys to get their hands on the family jewels. Cecil had never quite understood how meeting the relatives worked as a ploy. Besides, the family didn't have all that much in the way of jewels, except for Cecil's personal and he was perfectly happy to have any number of young ladies get their hands on those.
He took his time dressing, finally picking a pale gray dress shirt, a two-button, notched lapel plaid blazer in a darkish shade of green that he knew he looked good in, and a comfortable pair of light wool trousers. If the women who ran church socials were anything to go by, he'd have Deidre Page eating out of his hands in five minutes flat.
“I do like this one better than the last two. At least this one knows to keep his mouth shut when he chews.” A half-hour into tea time, and Deidre was still referring to him as this one.
Isla smiled as if Miss Page had praised him. It was possible that Isla actually enjoyed the rounds of subtle insults directed as Cecil's person. “He's very good with his mouth. Another biscuit?”
The look Miss Page directed at Isla suggested she'd caught the sexual innuendo. Cecil felt his cheeks go pink.
“So you're here to ask about Ripper, is that it?”
“About Rupert Giles, yes.”
“I don't know Rupert Giles. I only know Ripper, or I should say knew Ripper. I haven't seen him in, oh, more than two decades now, and haven't wanted to either. Are you one of those pansies?”
“One of what?” Cecil's hand shook so hard his tea spilled onto his trousers.
As Isla patted at the spill with a napkin, Deidre went on. “That group Ripper went back to. Oh, Ethan told me. Some sort of council, something to do with watching although Ethan would never say what they were watching. I guess it's just as well. Probably nothing I'd want to know about.”
She knew about the Watcher's Council? “This Ethan you mentioned.” Cecil skimmed through his notes. “Would that be Ethan Rayne?”
“Going to look him up? Ethan will be so pleased. He just adores pretty young things. You'd better bring a crucifix if you want to get out with your life, well either that or a gun.”
“This Mr. Rayne knows things?” About the Council for one. He might have just the information that Cecil needed.
“More than I do,” Miss Page agreed. “Whether he'll tell you or not, that's another question.”
“You've opened up, Deidre,” Isla said. “I mean, you've never shared any of this with me before. I'd imagine Cecil could get this Rayne to open up as well.”
“More likely Rayne'd be opening him up, and almost certainly not in a way he'd enjoy.”
“What kind of thing wouldn't he tell me?” Cecil wondered if he should bring up the dark magic rituals. He didn't want Miss Page to clam up.
Miss Page's laughter made the room seem just a bit darker. “Oh, he'll tell you all about the sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll.” She looked at him over her tea cup before finishing. “And the black magic. Ethan will go on and on about all that, if you're interested, possibly if you're not, but he won't tell you about Mary.”
“Mary?”
Miss Page sighed. “After Ripper returned to university, Ethan still kept tabs on him. Apparently Ripper fell, hard, for some local girl. Ethan wasn't pleased.”
“You don't mean that Giles and this Ethan fellow …” It was too disgusting to consider.
Isla's laughter seemed too light and airy for such a dark subject. “Cecil, I never knew you were so bourgeois.”
“I'm … I'm not,” Cecil stammered. “But he's so …” Old, Cecil wanted to say, but age didn't make a difference with that kind of thing, now did it? “So Ethan won't talk about Mary because he's jealous.”
“Oh no,” Miss Page replied. “Ethan won't speak of Mary because she died. Torn apart by wild animals. Once she was dead, she became enshrined in Ripper's heart: the perfect love. Mary Magdalene, the cheap two bit whore who wouldn't have lasted a week with Ripper giving way to Mary the Madonna, and all because she'd died. Or at least so Ethan says. But then again, he's jealous.”
Dismembered by beasts. Demon attacks, those the Council and Slayer didn't prevent, were generally attributed to beasts. Demons rendered bodies in ways no human, sane or not, would ever consider. “Do you know this girl's last name?”
Miss Page paused as if thinking on it. “No. Ethan might. If he does he won't tell you. Perhaps some of Ripper's university friends, assuming he had any, might know.”
“Of course.” Isla played mother, warming up their tea. Cecil added cream to his cup. “This Randall you mentioned …”
Miss Page interrupted before he could finish. “I won't speak of Randall. Ask Ethan. That he might talk about.”
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Date: 2015-11-18 05:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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