Disclaimer: If you recognize it from anywhere, it belongs either to Joss or Terry Pratchett. Only the actual words here are mine, nothing else.
Summary: A bookish solution to Graduation Day, part 2
Giles stood in the centre of the Sunnydale High School library, listening to the sounds of battle outside. He could hear Buffy goading the mayor, preparing to lead the ascended sorcerer on a chase through the school. Not for the first time, he wondered what had possessed him to suggest this plan. The counsel of desperation, he supposed. They could not defeat the mayor, not without far more destructive force than they could muster. No, the only way to stop him would be to starve him out, let the newly ascended’s desperate need for sustenance do him in. But to do that, they would need to isolate the mayor, keep him from feeding. They needed to send him away. Dimensional portals were tricky things, hard to come by on short notice, and certainly beyond his or Willow’s abilities, so this was the best he could do. He only hoped it would be enough.
The watcher took one last look at the arranged books, the finest occult library this side of the Atlantic. Demonologies, grimoires, prophecies, books of power and mystery. If his old colleague was right, this should do the trick. He hoped.
The battle grew louder, and the earth trembled with the mayor’s passage. Time to begin then. He could do this. He was a sorcerer, a watcher, a librarian. Taking a deep breath, Giles began intoning the words:
“Knowledge is power.
Power is energy.
Energy is matter.
Matter has mass.
Mass exerts gravity.
Gravity warps space.”
Blue light began to emanate from the books, gathering in the air. Ripples formed, swirling and distorting Giles’ vision. He saw Buffy approaching, the mayor close on her heels, and raised his hand. As she whipped past, he spoke the final word of the incantation.
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Mayor Wilkins snarled at the slayer as he pursued her down the halls of the school. Hurt HIS little Faith, would she. Well, he’d show her. Just a little bit closer and he’d have her. Closer... closer... almost... So focussed was he on his prey that he never noticed the portal opening until he was through it. Roaring in anger, he looked around himself to see... books. Shelves and shelves of books. Where was he? As confusion set in, his rage abated. He began to feel hungry. He needed food, and he needed it now. Casting about, Wilkins saw nothing but books. He crashed through shelves only to come upon more of the same. Weakening, he finally came to rest on a pile of encyclopaedias, to exhausted to go any further. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his body, where his shoulder had been.
The mayor looked up to see a cloaked skeleton standing above him, a scythe in its hand. He blinked, and said the first thing that came to mind.