The Gift
Books lay open on the table, an ill feeling in the room. Buffy had excused herself several minutes ago to step outside. None of them were talking. He, Xander and Willow were sitting at the round table surrounded by all of their research. Anya stood off to the side, and Jenny was behind him while Spike sat brooding on the stepladder, smoking a cigarette.
Before long, Buffy had returned, and Xander raised his brows at her. "Something goin' on out back?"
"Vampire," she answered lowly, still looking sullen at the results of their findings. She sighed, looking to him. "Anything?"
"Nothing you want to hear. The ritual is, uh--"
"Explain it again," she cut him off.
"There's nothing new to--"
"Go through it again."
A nervous energy settled over them as they all looked worriedly at the Slayer. Giles felt his wife take a step closer, her body heat a source of comfort behind him as he removed his glasses and once more delved into the explanation for Glory's ritual. "The Key was... living energy," he told her. "It needed to be channeled, poured into a specific place at a specific time. The energy... would flow into that spot, the walls between the dimensions break down. It stops, the energy's used up, the walls come back up. Glory uses that time to get back into her own dimension, not caring that all manner of hell will be unleashed on Earth in the meantime."
The expression on Buffy's face was, to put it lightly, grim.
"Um, but only for a little while, right?" Anya spoke up, unusually meek for her personality. "The walls come back up, uh, n-no more hell?"
"That's only if the energy is stopped," Jenny explained, voice initially coming out a little gruff due to her enduring silence over the last little while. "And now the Key is human..." He practically heard her swallow, voice softening as she finished, "...is Dawn."
Giles closed his eyes a moment. He knew that learning of this ritual would be difficult on everybody, as they'd all been accustomed to Dawn for so long now, what with their implanted memories and all, but... for Jenny especially he knew this would be difficult. She'd formed a bond with the girl that seemed to transcend manufactured memories. He saw respect in Dawn's eyes when she looked at Jenny, and affection and care in Jenny's eyes when she looked at Dawn. Though it was tough on all of them, this was seemingly hitting Buffy and Jenny the hardest.
"'The blood flows, the gates will open,'" he read quietly. "'The gates will close when it flows no more.'" He looked up at his Slayer, again removing his glasses. "When Dawn is dead."
"I have places to be!" Tara shouted suddenly, looking frantic. Everyone glanced over at her and she fell into silence again, curled in a chair in the corner.
"Why blood?" Xander asked. "Why Dawn's blood? I mean why couldn't it be like a, a lymph ritual?"
"'Cause it's always got to be blood," Spike piped up lowly, picking at his black-polished fingernails.
"We're not actually discussing dinner right now," Xander quipped.
"Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead." Softer, he finished, "'Course it's her blood."
"It's the answer," Jenny murmured behind him, and Giles turned to find his wife looking thoughtful. "The answer is in the blood."
Realization seemed to dawn within the browns, but he didn't have a chance to question it before Buffy broke in again. "Pretty simple math, here. We stop Glory before she can start the ritual. We still have a couple of hours, right?"
He nodded. "If my calculations are right. But Buffy--"
"I don't wanna hear it," she cut him off again, and turned away.
He tried again, softly, not wanting to rile her further. "I understand that--"
"No!" She whirled around abruptly. "No you don't understand. We're not talking about this."
But by that time, he'd had enough, and jumped up indignantly. "Yes, we bloody-well are!" He glanced at all the wide-eyed looks he was receiving, even from Jenny, and he hung his head, suddenly embarrassed by his own outburst. Softer, he went on, "If Glory begins the ritual... if we can't stop her..." He trailed off.
"Come on." Buffy took a confrontational step forward. "Say it. We're bloody-well talking about this," she mocked, green eyes hard. "Tell me to kill my sister."
Whispering, he reminded her, "She's not your sister."
Before long, Buffy had returned, and Xander raised his brows at her. "Something goin' on out back?"
"Vampire," she answered lowly, still looking sullen at the results of their findings. She sighed, looking to him. "Anything?"
"Nothing you want to hear. The ritual is, uh--"
"Explain it again," she cut him off.
"There's nothing new to--"
"Go through it again."
A nervous energy settled over them as they all looked worriedly at the Slayer. Giles felt his wife take a step closer, her body heat a source of comfort behind him as he removed his glasses and once more delved into the explanation for Glory's ritual. "The Key was... living energy," he told her. "It needed to be channeled, poured into a specific place at a specific time. The energy... would flow into that spot, the walls between the dimensions break down. It stops, the energy's used up, the walls come back up. Glory uses that time to get back into her own dimension, not caring that all manner of hell will be unleashed on Earth in the meantime."
The expression on Buffy's face was, to put it lightly, grim.
"Um, but only for a little while, right?" Anya spoke up, unusually meek for her personality. "The walls come back up, uh, n-no more hell?"
"That's only if the energy is stopped," Jenny explained, voice initially coming out a little gruff due to her enduring silence over the last little while. "And now the Key is human..." He practically heard her swallow, voice softening as she finished, "...is Dawn."
Giles closed his eyes a moment. He knew that learning of this ritual would be difficult on everybody, as they'd all been accustomed to Dawn for so long now, what with their implanted memories and all, but... for Jenny especially he knew this would be difficult. She'd formed a bond with the girl that seemed to transcend manufactured memories. He saw respect in Dawn's eyes when she looked at Jenny, and affection and care in Jenny's eyes when she looked at Dawn. Though it was tough on all of them, this was seemingly hitting Buffy and Jenny the hardest.
"'The blood flows, the gates will open,'" he read quietly. "'The gates will close when it flows no more.'" He looked up at his Slayer, again removing his glasses. "When Dawn is dead."
"I have places to be!" Tara shouted suddenly, looking frantic. Everyone glanced over at her and she fell into silence again, curled in a chair in the corner.
"Why blood?" Xander asked. "Why Dawn's blood? I mean why couldn't it be like a, a lymph ritual?"
"'Cause it's always got to be blood," Spike piped up lowly, picking at his black-polished fingernails.
"We're not actually discussing dinner right now," Xander quipped.
"Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead." Softer, he finished, "'Course it's her blood."
"It's the answer," Jenny murmured behind him, and Giles turned to find his wife looking thoughtful. "The answer is in the blood."
Realization seemed to dawn within the browns, but he didn't have a chance to question it before Buffy broke in again. "Pretty simple math, here. We stop Glory before she can start the ritual. We still have a couple of hours, right?"
He nodded. "If my calculations are right. But Buffy--"
"I don't wanna hear it," she cut him off again, and turned away.
He tried again, softly, not wanting to rile her further. "I understand that--"
"No!" She whirled around abruptly. "No you don't understand. We're not talking about this."
But by that time, he'd had enough, and jumped up indignantly. "Yes, we bloody-well are!" He glanced at all the wide-eyed looks he was receiving, even from Jenny, and he hung his head, suddenly embarrassed by his own outburst. Softer, he went on, "If Glory begins the ritual... if we can't stop her..." He trailed off.
"Come on." Buffy took a confrontational step forward. "Say it. We're bloody-well talking about this," she mocked, green eyes hard. "Tell me to kill my sister."
Whispering, he reminded her, "She's not your sister."