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The donors: a ficlet
The meeting was over and they were all in the pub having a relaxing pint or two. Giles looked around the table at the men and women upon whom Buffy's organisation depended. When he'd first put the feelers out, he hadn't expected a response from quite such luminary personages.
David Nabbit came as no surprise. He'd got in touch years ago, when the Council was still in session, but they'd turned him down ? Quentin didn't trust New Money, and certainly not American money. But he was first on Giles's list when it came to sourcing funding for their New Model Army (that was a name he only used in his own mind, but he rather liked it. Buffy had yet to settle on an official title.). Giles smiled as he watched Nabbit cautiously sipping his pint of bitter, like a teenage boy having his first drink. He did look awfully like an overgrown schoolboy, with his over-eager face and gawky mannerisms. But he seemed to be getting on rather well with Stephen Fry, talking away about technology and remote controlled wotsits. Giles had been shocked to discover quite how fond of gadgets Stephen was. He wasn't sure he liked the idea ? the idea that this plump, avuncular, old-fashioned man was further up to speed on the latest Thing than he was. It made him feel ancient.
Next to Stephen, chatting intently with Alan Moore was one of the people he'd been uncertain about taking on board. After all, it was opening an immense can of worms and risking compromise of their secrecy. But, he did have an AWFUL lot of money to offer, and Giles had always rather liked him.
"So, how's your mum doing, Charlie boy?" Alan was asking. "Is she proud of you, saving the world?"
"Oh, Mummy doesn't know I'm doing this," said Charles. His lined face looked cheeky, almost. "I don't think she'd approve of me funding a secret army. She might think I'm trying to compete with hers! But, I promise she won't find out. I'm jolly good at keeping secrets."
Alan chocked. "Erm?Charles. You DO remember the "I want to be your tampon" incident, don't you? Because everyone else bloody does!"
Oh Lord, thought Giles. Perhaps I have made a mistake inviting the heir to the throne of England?
"You're looking thoughtful, Rupert," said Althenea, who was sitting to his left, quietly observing along side him. Her brunette bobbed hair, freshly cut, was jaunty, made her look rather girlish. Giles liked it. It was strange to think how old she really was. To look at her, she hardly looked his age. But she was?well. If Buffy thought her boyfriends were old?
"And you're going to tell me you know what I'm thinking?" asked Giles.
"Well, as to what you're thinking RIGHT NOW?I'm not that old you know! I hardly saw the BC's?well, what you think of as BC, in your silly Christ-centric modern calendar."
Giles smiled. He put his hand discreetly on her knee, under the table.
"And what you're thinking now? Will have to wait til later," said Althenea. "We should mingle. Because I think Kofi is looking rather bored talking to Riley?"
The meeting was over and they were all in the pub having a relaxing pint or two. Giles looked around the table at the men and women upon whom Buffy's organisation depended. When he'd first put the feelers out, he hadn't expected a response from quite such luminary personages.
David Nabbit came as no surprise. He'd got in touch years ago, when the Council was still in session, but they'd turned him down ? Quentin didn't trust New Money, and certainly not American money. But he was first on Giles's list when it came to sourcing funding for their New Model Army (that was a name he only used in his own mind, but he rather liked it. Buffy had yet to settle on an official title.). Giles smiled as he watched Nabbit cautiously sipping his pint of bitter, like a teenage boy having his first drink. He did look awfully like an overgrown schoolboy, with his over-eager face and gawky mannerisms. But he seemed to be getting on rather well with Stephen Fry, talking away about technology and remote controlled wotsits. Giles had been shocked to discover quite how fond of gadgets Stephen was. He wasn't sure he liked the idea ? the idea that this plump, avuncular, old-fashioned man was further up to speed on the latest Thing than he was. It made him feel ancient.
Next to Stephen, chatting intently with Alan Moore was one of the people he'd been uncertain about taking on board. After all, it was opening an immense can of worms and risking compromise of their secrecy. But, he did have an AWFUL lot of money to offer, and Giles had always rather liked him.
"So, how's your mum doing, Charlie boy?" Alan was asking. "Is she proud of you, saving the world?"
"Oh, Mummy doesn't know I'm doing this," said Charles. His lined face looked cheeky, almost. "I don't think she'd approve of me funding a secret army. She might think I'm trying to compete with hers! But, I promise she won't find out. I'm jolly good at keeping secrets."
Alan chocked. "Erm?Charles. You DO remember the "I want to be your tampon" incident, don't you? Because everyone else bloody does!"
Oh Lord, thought Giles. Perhaps I have made a mistake inviting the heir to the throne of England?
"You're looking thoughtful, Rupert," said Althenea, who was sitting to his left, quietly observing along side him. Her brunette bobbed hair, freshly cut, was jaunty, made her look rather girlish. Giles liked it. It was strange to think how old she really was. To look at her, she hardly looked his age. But she was?well. If Buffy thought her boyfriends were old?
"And you're going to tell me you know what I'm thinking?" asked Giles.
"Well, as to what you're thinking RIGHT NOW?I'm not that old you know! I hardly saw the BC's?well, what you think of as BC, in your silly Christ-centric modern calendar."
Giles smiled. He put his hand discreetly on her knee, under the table.
"And what you're thinking now? Will have to wait til later," said Althenea. "We should mingle. Because I think Kofi is looking rather bored talking to Riley?"
