Endings 11
Wordcount: 2,003
11
Ethan and Rupert shared a silent look between them. This was a portal that it would take a hell of a lot more than their bundle of herbs , a few words, and a little focused energy to close.
And the hint of power that he had fed Buffy would already be starting to fade, if he’d calculated everything correctly. He’d pushed just enough onto her to give the military boys a good show, something that Rupert would no doubt be telling him off about later on, too. But in his opinion it had proven worth it.
The last thing that he’d wanted was to give the Initiative clearance to a Slayer, and by giving her a hint of his own power he’d provided the perfect excuse to keep her with them, classifying her as a Sorcerer in their eyes, and therefore on of their band, even if she wasn’t actually on the list. Because even though he got on with them well enough, there was still something about them that he didn’t trust. It probably had a lot to do with the way they efficiently cleared away most dead specimen in order to pull them apart and find out what made them tick.
It just wasn’t natural.
“What the hell is that?” A member of the mini-platoon asked, stepping a little closer, in order to peer inside the portal.
Ethan caught his shoulder, “Wouldn’t be doing that if I were you, mate. I’d say it’s exactly what you think it is, and, as consequence not something that he and I can close at a moment’s notice.”
Giles stepped up beside Ethan, and Buffy, for her part hung back, “The most that we could do is ward it for the moment, which should be enough to stop anything from coming through. With a little luck, anyway,” he muttered the last part so that only Ethan could hear him, then raised his voice, talking to everyone again, “Closing that kind of this requires precise calculation, and relevant ingredients, as well as having to be done at a certain time of the month. And even then it requires more energy than either of us had at the moment. It has to be bound properly; otherwise it’s like gluing a patch over hole- bound to come undone again.”
“Now, I’m not saying that it’s not appreciated, what exactly are you doing here with such wonderful timing?” Ethan directed his question to Finn alone, knowing from past experience that he wouldn’t get a straight answer from any of the others.
“We’ve been running scans on the area every half-hour. The last one picked up not only a considerable-sized hot-spot, but an unusually large reading of pre-natural energy,” he glanced back at the small group surrounding them, and again his gaze lit upon Buffy, “So who’s the woman?”
“That would be my older sister’s wayward daughter. Buffy summers, is her name. And as you just saw, she’s one of us. She’s been with an old family friend back in England, finishing some of the finer points of her training.” Ethan lied smoothly, having practised it in his head several times over already.
“She’s not on any of our records,” one of the others spoke from the back.
“Yes, well neither was I until your people put me there. I’ll take the opportunity to remind you that my family were good at remaining below the radar, so to speak,” he made sure that just the right touch of superiority and anger came through in his tone, and knew that he’d nailed it when Finn stepped back and nodded to him.
“In that case we’ll leave the three of you to do what you have to. We were ordered to return with a complete report once we assessed the situation on the ground. Dawson, Stephens,” his voice took on a brisk tone, as he signalled out a couple of his men, “the two of you grab a couple of specimen for the labs. Move out.”
Dawson and Stephens didn’t look overly delighted with their assigned tasks, but their training wouldn’t took over the distaste, and they both grasped one each, lifting the man-sized dead-weights with surprising ease for regular humans, and turned to follow the rest of their team-members out of the temporary battle-zone.
Once they were out of earshot Buffy turned to Ethan, and fixed him with a look that he couldn’t decipher, “Seriously. She’s my older sister’s wayward daughter? You couldn’t have chosen a cover that was slightly less, oh I don’t know, related to you?”
“Rupert and I discussed the matter the other day, and you do look enough like the bitch it rings true enough. It’s better for all of us if no-one knows who or what you really are unless the move is unavoidable. And that’s a scenario that we’re going to do our best to avoid. Now, if you’ll stand back so that we can do what we have to here…?”Ethan left the sentence open.
Buffy, for here part was feeling more drained then she could remember being in recent memory, now that the hit of power which Ethan had feed her had faded already. Without being able to find a customary retort, she drew back from the small portal, and sat down on the other side of the street, with her back firmly against the wall, grateful for it’s solidness behind her, as she tilted her head back and blinked until the two men were in focus again. She figured that she ought to see how they went about warding the portal, in case it was the source of a pop quiz later on, or something along those lines.
But she must have been more worn out than she’d realised, because as Ethan nodded in her direction, and turned to say something to Rupert, her eyes drifted closed and she couldn’t be bothered opening them again.
ARR! ARR! ARR! ARREthan nodded in Buffy’s direction, and twisted a little magic around her, sending her into a light doze, before Rupert had a chance to say anything. It was a lot easier then it would have been under normal circumstances, the fade of his power in her saw to that.
And, sure enough seconds later the man rounded on him.
“Did you even consider the consequences, or did you just act without a second damn thought, like you usually do?”
“Yes, I damn well did. And the benefit outweighed any risks, especially once 9our friendly neighbour-hood G.I. Joe wannabes showed up on the scene.”
“But if you’d miscalculated, if you’d feed her too much or two little, or if one of the swarm had broken free… not to mention the usual risks that come from grafting any amount of magic to one that isn’t used to that sort of power. You put her, the one thing that we need to keep safe in this scenario at risk. You put yourself at risk, in doing that! For Christ’s sake Eth-.”
“Do you honestly think that I’d have done it if I’d thought I was risking my own arse?” Ethan cut Rupert’s lecture off, before he could get up a proper head of steam, “Surely you of all people know that I have more sense of self-preservation than that?”
He watched as Rupert closed his eyes, and the second he did, he began his own mental count to ten. Right on cue, he opened his eyes again making a huge effort to sweep his anger under the bedroom carpet for the moment. His eye twitched a couple of times, and then he finally spoke again.
“So, what should we use? I was thinking Croft’s, since it’s the basic hands-free model…”
“If we’re going to use Croft’s then we’d have to link it to another layer, something like the Minorus alert so then we know when it breaks. You know as well as I do, that it’s not a matter of if, but when. I was leaning more towards Selph’s. It’s true that it would use a bit more base power, bit it’s far stronger, and it covers both of the requirements.”
That wrinkle between Rupert’s eyes deepened, like it always did when he was considering something, and Ethan was almost sure for a few moments, that he was going to chose his own method, simply because it would drive the pint of how unimpressed he was home just that little bit further. Then it smoothed out, and he sighed, “Selph’s it is. If you think you’re up for it. Don’t want you to burn yourself out.”
“Don’t worry, mother,” Ethan rolled his eyes, “I’ll let you know if I start to come over all faint in the middle of the spell.”
“Yes, well,” in spite of him-self Giles allowed a smile to play at the corner of his mouth, in spite of himself, “you make sure that you do.”
It was true that there had actually been no harm done, and Ethan’s action’s had indeed made the hurriedly though of story that touch more believable.
Ethan dug out a small bag of charcoal, and dropped to his knees, beginning to sketch several less often used patterns and runes on the ground in front of the portal, whilst Rupert kept a single wary eye on it, wondering what it was that had prevented something from coming through already. Maybe it was only minutes opened, or it could be that it was like a one-way mirror, that whilst they could see through it from this side it was invisible from the other. Or maybe there was something bigger that was taking priority. Whatever it was, he was glad of it for the moment.
After a few minutes of rapid drawing, the circle around the rip, and the runes within and without it were beginning to take shape. And after a stretch of time that Rupert was sure had been shorter then it actually seemed Ethan was stepping back and tossing the noticeably shorter piece of charcoal to him.
“Check?” he offered.
As per habit, Rupert leaned forward to inspect the work. A second eye over these sorts of things never hurt, no matter how often they’d done it. Finally he nodded, satisfied, and flicked his fingers at Ethan.
“Your knife, if you please?”
It was handed over, and he pulled a face as he braced himself, and drew it lightly across the palm of his hand. Even though he’d done this a few times, too, it never became any easier. Handing the blade back over, he held his hand out over the black patterns and let a few drops fall into the middle of the work, just in front of the portal as Ethan did the same thing. Even pulling his hand back out was an effort. By the time the words had been said it would have been nigh on impossible for most from this side.
And, with a little luck it should be even harder from the other side. Although, like he’d said before, it wasn’t a question of if something broke through, but when.
If their luck held out that little bit further then that, even, then they should have turned up a way to close this particular portal by then, too.
Ethan, snorted, earning himself an enquiring glance from Rupert, as he crossed back over the road to stir their sleeping beauty, he worked on building up a pacifying smile to give her in his defence, as he shook her shoulder.
And seconds later, he found himself taking several quick steps backward, a hand to his nose and thinking words that would have made several of his old school-day mates’ blush. Buffy had woken up on the wrong side of the street. She had reacted on instinct, being woken up in what was slowly creeping towards the middle of the afternoon.
Rupert, damn him, was looking ever so slightly amused at it all.
“Time we headed home,” he called out, enjoying his safe distance.