The First Polish

Disclaimer in first chapter.

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I have never seen..... Giles in his museum days. (BtVS/The Mummy)

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Late January, 1981

"Guardian."

"Excuse me?" Giles looked up with a frown, taking a moment to come out of the text he'd been reading. Really, he wasn't sure if the book should be cataloged under mythological texts or ancient cultures. It could be argued that either were suitable, but since proving that would involve opening the eyes of his superiors, Giles figured he'd have to bow to convention and file it with the myths.

"Guardian, you must prepare."

Giles frowned at the man before him, taking in his rather flamboyant garb (desert gear in the middle of a London winter?) and odd facial tattoos (possibly tribal markings, his fingers itched to find a reference source) at a glance.

"I'm sorry sir," his tone implying that he was anything but, "I'm afraid you have the wrong man. My name is Giles. Rupert Giles, at your service." He smiled thinly and wondered if this was yet another joke set up by Ethan, trying to entice him back into the fold.

"At my service you may be, but the one for whom Osiris waits shall be your true charge."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The daughter of Sineya draws her first breath tonight." The dark man's eyes glazed suddenly, "You think you know: what you are, what you've done? You haven't even begun... From beneath you it devours."

Giles blinked and sand suddenly swirled from nowhere to coat the stranger before exploding outward, pricking his exposed skin like a thousand tiny needles. He threw his arms up to protect his face, knocking his glasses to the ground. In an instant the storm was gone.

He knelt down and lifted his spectacles with a shaking hand and proceeded to clean the specks of sand from the lenses. When he stood there was no sign, not hair nor hide nor grain of sand left as evidence of his odd guest.

Giles looked down at the soft suede cloth he had used on his glasses. Six golden grains of sand winked merrily up at him. "Bugger," he breathed shakily. "Bloody buggering hell," he muttered as he slipped his spectacles back into place. "I need a drink."

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