The general disclaimer can be found in the first chapter. Any dialogue from The Body and The Gift have been from the transcripts from Buffyworld. I have utilised my creative licence.
I would also like to thank all of you who have hung in thus far. I have officially completed the edit of my work from 2012 and am hopeful that I will be able to complete the story sooner rather than later. I have yet to weave my way through seasons six and seven. I'll get everyone returned to their proper creators within a reasonable time. I am grateful to have this opportunity and an audience to share with.
Happy reading!
The night air is fragrant with night blooms as Buffy patrols the lonely streets of Sunnydale in search of the things that go 'bump in the night'.
"Slayer." His voice holds an underlying need and Buffy turns to see Spike leaning casually against the door to his crypt— arms folded neatly across his chest, a lit cigarette dangling casually from his lips.
"Spike," Buffy replies, quickly glancing around to see if anyone else is present. Sensing and seeing no one, she quickly closes the distance, stopping just short of him and makes a grab for his wrists to unfold his arms. He doesn't resist her, instead allows her to easily open them, and press her petite body flush against his— his body naturally responds to her body heat and he closes his arms around her, tightening his control over her. She whimpers slightly as his hands wander down her back and rest on the curve of her tight jean clad behind. "Not here." She whispers, eyes fluttering in the pleasure of his nuzzling her shoulder.
Spike allows her to break free of his embrace just long enough to push him through the heavy door of his crypt. Closing the door behind them, Spike presses her roughly against it. Buffy doesn't cry out, only jumps to wrap her lean legs around his waist, pressing her arousal against his, she pulls his head down towards hers and claims his lips and him with hers. His rising need, teased by her own sets both aflame, and between nips, wet kisses, moans, and groans— articles of clothing are swiftly discarded. Her leather jacket— his tight black tee. Followed by her ruby red silk blouse— his leather belt. Her favourite black leather boots, then his biker boots. Finally her tight black denim jeans and his body-hugging black jeans. Lips pressed tightly, he sweeps her up in his arms and makes his way towards his bed.
"NOW!" she orders, her words captured within his mouth. He pauses only for a moment.
Laying her down on the Persian rug, he looks down at her perfect, taut body— only a sexy little black filmy lace bra and matching panties provide some modesty. Her nipples pert through the fabric of her bra, he leans over her examining her one last time before hooking his thumbs under the fabric of her panties and pulling them down her legs— all the while nipping and kissing his way down her lean legs. She moans and thrashes under his attentions— awaiting his next move. Spike looks down at her once again, her arousal obvious as he reaches towards her curls, she bucks her hips up to meet his touch. He runs his fingers gently over the curls and just beyond— finding her ready for him.
Making her wait a moment longer, he tosses his briefs aside and takes his time in teasing her nipples through the lace, fingers pinching the budding nubs, she gasps under his ministrations. His lowers his head slowly towards her breasts and licks at the straining nipple through the fabric, the friction results in her bucking her hips towards him once more, only he keeps his straining member away from her silent pleas.
"Not yet my pet." He whispers from his spot between her breasts. In a quick movement, the clasp of her bra is undone and he is gently running the offending fabric down her arms. Spike immediately returns his attention to her breasts, the rose hue deepening with her need.
Licking and teasing each nipple, he alternates with pinching the nubs between fingers and thumb. She sighs in contentment as he raises his head and looks into her eyes for permission. He knows that he need not ask, but somehow wanting to protect her, to make her feel safe and loved always has a way of prevailing— if only for a moment, he claims her lips with his and spreads his body almost lovingly over hers. Feeling her open her legs for his entrance, he takes his cue and guides himself into her, gently despite her obvious bucking underneath. Pressing further, he pauses with her slight gasp and slows his entrance long enough for her to adjust to his girth, they begin their dance— a slow and steady sensual rhythm that increases with need and fire, their bodies reading each other, their climax is as violent as waves crashing into rocks at the foot of a cliff.
Buffy sighs loudly, her contentment written on her face, her vision finally no longer blurry she looks into his adoring eyes.
"That good my pet?" he says with a satisfied expression on his face. She can only nod with a light whimper. "Me too." Is all he can manage as he feels his member soften within her sheath, he presses his lips affectionately against her temple before gently maneuvering his body to lie beside her— taking her in strong arms, he tenderly runs his fingers through her honey locks and trails kisses along the back of her neck.
Their tender moment is broken with the shrill ring of Buffy's cell phone.
"Who could be calling at this time?" she inquires under her breath as she untangles herself from her lover's embrace and reaches for her phone.
"Buffy!" Dawn's voice is frantic on the other end of the line.
"What is it?"
"Mom."
"I'll be right there," Buffy replies without prompting her sister to try to explain the issue. "Spike."
"I know the drill pet." He says simply as he hands her an article of clothing and she turns away from him to dress. "I just wish." He begins.
"That things were different?" she supplies with a soft sigh.
"Yeah." He nods as she bends towards him to capture his lips with hers once more. Not another word shared between them as she finished dressing and makes a mad dash out of his crypt, through the cemetery towards her home, and whatever problem had her sister so frantic.
"Dawn! Mom!" Buffy hollers from the front door. Tossing her keys towards the bowl, not bothering to remove her boots or jacket, Buffy runs upstairs two at a time.
"Buffy, we're in Dawn's room." Her mother's voice makes its way to her and she settles down slightly.
"What?"
"Mom had a really bad headache." Dawn began to explain.
"I forgot to take my medication." Her mother looks down at her folded hands as though in preparation of Buffy's pending lecture.
"Thank goodness. I thought it was actually something really bad." Buffy says with a sigh of relief, hoping that both her sister and mother missed the fear in her tone.
Although they felt that they would never be prepared to face their foe, Buffy had no idea that Glory would be the least of her worries. Another day of research, another day of training— another day of dealing with her sister has Buffy in a state of wanting to snip her responsibilities and take a much-needed break. She almost wished that she had classes, tests, papers, and regular issues like regular people, but being the Slayer, that is not to be. Deciding to take a breather from research, Buffy had left the gang early to go home and spend some sister-free time with her mother. Walking up the path to her front door, Buffy retrieves her house key and opens the door. The house is unusually quiet, but she figures that her mother might be upstairs having a rest or something.
"Hey mom," Buffy calls out to what feels like an empty home. A bright, cheerful bouquet of flowers that sits on the hall table catches her eye and she heads towards the arrangement. Plucking the card from its place tucked neatly within, she opens the envelope and smiles at the sentiment, a note thanking Joyce for a wonderful date. Still a couple of guys gettin' it right, she muses as she puts her jacket down and turns her attention to the stairs.
"Hey. Flower-gettin' lady. Want me to pick Dawn up from school?" frowning at the lack of response, Buffy looks down the hall towards the kitchen, half expecting her mother to pop her head around the corner.
"Mom?" she says as she turns her attention towards the living room. "What are you doing?" she steps further into the living room and stops dead in her tracks. On the sofa, her mother lies, eyes glassy and open— starring sightlessly at the ceiling. One arm hanging lifelessly over the edge of the sofa and there is no response to Buffy's entrance.
"Mom?" Buffy's voice is quiet, almost childlike, "Mom?" she says taking a hesitant step towards her mother. "Mommy?" she says more to herself as she rushes over to her mother and frantically shakes her by the shoulders. "Mom! Mom! Mom!" she repeats repeatedly, before shouting "MOM!" into her mother's face—yet still, there is no reaction. Almost unsure of what to do next, Buffy gets up and goes to the kitchen where she picks up the cordless phone and dials 9-1-1, fidgeting anxiously while awaiting a response.
"9-1-1 emergency"
"Hello?" Buffy's voice is small, almost childlike.
"Do you have..." the operator is cut off by Buffy.
"My mom, she—she's not breathing." She says trying to maintain her breathing.
"Is she conscious?"
"No. I-I-I can't, she, she's not breathing."
"Okay, I need you to give me your address."
"What?" Buffy says in a daze.
"I'm gonna send an ambulance over."
"Si-Sixteen-thirty Rivelo. It-it's a house. Rivelo near Hadley."
"I'm sending a unit right away. Are you alone in the house?" the operator inquires.
"Yes," Buffy replies.
"Well did you see what happened? Did she fall?"
"No, no. I-I came home and she-what should I do?" she asks, fear in her tone.
"Do you know how to administer CPR?"
"No, I don't remember," Buffy says, her emotions overpowering her thoughts.
"Okay, it's very simple. You want to tilt your mother's head back. Cover her mouth with yours and breathe into her mouth." The operator instructs in a calm tone. As though she were a robot, Buffy drops the phone, it slips to her side and she moves towards her mother— she can hear the muffled voice of the operator as she speaks to herself.
"I know this. I know this. God." She pushes the phone aside and takes a hold of her mother's legs, pulling Joyce down across the sofa so that she lies flat on the living room floor. "I can do this. Okay, okay." She tilt's her mother's head back, opening her mouth with slender fingers, she then pinches Joyce's nose and takes in as much air as she can to breathe into her mother's mouth. Beginning chest compressions, Buffy counts aloud. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight."
Not seeing any result, her expression changes and once again she takes as much air in as she can manage and breathes into her mother's mouth. "One, two, three." She stops suddenly when she hears a loud crack. "Oh! Oh God!" reaching for the phone, "I, are you there? I, I broke something."
"Hello?" the operator's voice comes through.
"It cracked."
"Is she breathing?"
"No," Buffy replies.
"Paramedics should be there in a moment. You might have cracked a rib. It's not important." Suddenly something hits Buffy and she realises that her mother is stone cold.
"She's cold." She says.
"The body's cold?"
"No, my mom! Sh-should I make her warm?"
"If she's not responding to CPR, the best thing is to wait for the paramedics, okay?"
"When will they be here?"
"They're very nearby." The operator replies.
Dropping the phone to her side, Buffy glances towards the window and stands. A faint sound of a siren breaks the unbearable silence.
"I have to make a call," Buffy says suddenly pressing the hang-up button. Her fingers mechanically find the speed dial.
"Hello?" Giles' voice doesn't sound as far as he is.
"Giles, you have to come."
"Buffy?"
"She's at the house," Buffy replies quietly as if Glory can hear that they are speaking of her. Ringing off, Buffy walks to the front door, opens it and looks out— the sirens scream is louder than before. Leaving the door open, Buffy walks back to the living room then takes another look at her mother in her disheveled state and immediately straightens her mother's clothes— rearranging her beige skirt that had hiked up in her attempted CPR.
"She's in here." Buffy says as she turns towards the door—two paramedics enter and she can only watch as they put their things down and begin to check her mother over.
"I'm getting no pulse." One says.
"Let's lay her out." The other replies and they lift and place her on the floor. Once she is settled, one of the paramedics pulls out his stethoscope and a flashlight.
"How long's she been like this?" the other asks.
"I found her, a-a few, few minutes." She guesses, not truly knowing how long her mother was in that state— they continue to work.
"Was she conscious?" she hears the question but finds it hard to breathe.
"No." She finally replies.
"I'm bagging her." He quickly places the needed equipment and continues to work.
"What?" Buffy inquires, confusion written on her face.
"We're gonna intubate. Just trying to get her to breathe, all right?" the paramedic tries to place a comforting tone in his voice— she merely nods.
"This your mother?"
"Yes." She replies placing the hand clutching the cordless phone over her chest.
"She have any serious physical health problems, any history or heart disease?"
"No." She replies with a robotic tone. They continue their routine, but to no avail and finally.
"She's cold man." They look at each other for a brief moment before deciding to call it. With a grim look, his partner turns his attention to Buffy.
"Call it." One of the paramedics finally says.
As they begin to pack up their equipment, Buffy's lower lip begins to tremble as thoughts of her life without her mother floods her already cloudy mind.
"I'm sorry." She's unsure which paramedic he is, says. She looks up at him blurry eyed.
"Wha-what do we do now?" she inquires in a small voice.
"I'm sorry, but I have to tell that, your mother is dead." She only stares blankly through the blur.
"It looks like she did die a good while before you found her. There's nothing you have done".
"Wh-what..."
"I'm guessing it must have been an aneurysm or some clotting. Some complication from surgery. She probably felt," he pauses, noticing the tears in her eyes, "very little pain. I'm gonna call it in. The coroner's office will come by and take her in, and they'll determine the cause of death conclusively." She only continues to stare at him.
They are interrupted by a call on the radio for a 206, and they quickly finish collecting their belongings and head out the door.
"Good luck," Buffy says under her breath as the sirens blare, leaving her alone in their wake.
Sitting in Mackenzie's livingroon with soft music playing in the background, Giles allows his weary body to sink deeply into the sofa.
"So what you're saying is that all the arrangements have been made- and that's it?" Mackenzie inquires as she enters the room with a tray filled with a teapot, tucked neatly within a tea cosy, two porcelain mugs, a plate with cookies and some chocolates, two smaller plates and linen serviettes.
"Yes, I think it's a bit odd, to say the least, that Joyce seemed to know that her end was near."
"As odd as this may sound, I think some of us just know when our time is up." She replies as she sets the tray on the coffee table and sits closely beside him. "While some of us haven't the faintest clue what the future holds." She cannot help but think of Alexa and her want to live despite being diagnosed terminal. She and Adam traveled to her end, which Mackenzie knew seriously impacted Adam in ways he would never admit. They enjoy their momentary pause before Mackenzie begins to pour the tea and they arrange themselves, taking a plate each and silently agreeing with what the other wishes.
"And Angel said that he was coming?" she looks into the mug of hot liquid.
"Willow mentioned it, yes. I honestly don't feel that it's the best of ideas, but those two have the oddest history."
"I suppose. But I doubt that Spike will be impressed." She adds.
"Spike? Why would he care if Angel were here?" he inquires. In keeping with her promise to maintain Buffy's confidence, Mackenzie smiles warmly, tilts her head to the side and puts her mug down on the coffee table.
"It's nothing major. At least I don't think so." She sits back.
"A chipped Spike has managed to befriend our Slayer." She says simply. Giles wonders if Mackenzie means something else, perhaps something more, but decides against pursuing it. "With everything that's been going on, I guess she found that she could confide in Spike."
"So she couldn't trust her best friend, or me for that matter?" he appears a bit miffed by Buffy ignoring him as a source of support during one of the most difficult experiences in life.
"Giles, I highly doubt that's it. This thing with you and I hasn't been at the best of times, nor has the Glory issue and now her mother. What more can she take without unloading on someone?"
"Again, I suppose you're right. But Spike of all people?" she hears the utter detest in his tone.
"I know, I just think that once everything settles down, she'll be fine." She replies simply. "Well, let's just say that Buffy doesn't have the best track record."
"I've heard, but that doesn't mean that she's going to make the wrong decision." Mackenzie looks into his emerald eyes over the rim of her mug, lowering his mug— Giles, in turn, reveals his trademark crooked smile.
The funeral planned is a simple affair— just as their mother would want it. No pomp and circumstance. Joyce had artfully planned the affair – already choosing the psalms, poems, music, and program. Having the difficult tasks done for them, Buffy and Dawn could take the time they needed in their grieving. The ceremony itself was beautiful, allowing for everyone to remember the woman who had been such a positive influence in their lives. To Xander, Joyce's memory would be that of a loving paternal influence, as she filled a wide gap left by his parents. Willow vowed to always fondly remember Joyce as her second Christmas loving mother, who continually, no questions asked offered her emotional support in all of her choices – academic, social, and romantic. Joyce was Tara's cool mom, who would continually provide an open door to her adoptive 'children'. Mackenzie may not have known Joyce for very long she couldn't help but feel that Joyce was the unspoken glue of the Scooby gang. Giles fondly recalled the times he spent at the Summer home –Joyce always making him feel as though he were part of their family.
Wanting to give Buffy some time to grieve, the Scooby gang quickly assemble, making themselves as useful as possible – Making arrangements, patrolling, helping with Dawn, and anything else their friend may need, even if she wasn't sure what that may be. What they didn't know; however, was Buffy's downward slip. Buffy had de-enrolled from UC Sunnydale, claiming that it was only temporary so that she could take care of Dawn and complete the countless forms that were required of her to fill out once her mother passed- and would re-enroll the following semester. The only person to actually notice that anything was wrong with the Slayer, was Spike. In response to her needs, he made himself available unconditionally to her. Whatever she needed, he would give her. If it was an ear, his shoulder to cry on, or a tryst – providing her with the meaningless physical contact that she craved that no one else could provide.
Mackenzie and Giles finish another sweep of the park on their way back to their complex.
"Giles, do you really think that Buffy is okay?" she asks as they walk past a cemetery.
"I imagine that she's still whirling from the shock of losing her mother." He replies as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his light jacket. Mackenzie sighs loudly.
"Perhaps after we settle this Glory issue, maybe we can get away?" Giles suggests more under his breath than to her. He hadn't wanted to bring it up, as there was so much going on with their trying to figure out how to save the world… yet again. Mackenzie stops in her tracks in thought.
"What is it, my love? He asks reaching out and running a hand down her arm. She turns to look at him and takes her time in answering.
"Giles, if we survive this. I would love to go away with you and see your home." She smiles brightly, not wanting to push any further in their potential future planes. His smile widens and he quickly scoops her up in his arms and kisses her passionately.
"Giles," she finally manages between kisses.
"Yes?"
"I love you." She says, truly meaning and feeling the words as they leave her lips. His expression is priceless as she captures his lips once again with hers and enjoys their moment. Placing her back on solid ground, they reach for each other's hands and continue on their way. Giles can hardly believe how truly unreal yet spectacular those three words sounded. Pausing for a moment, Mackenzie looks up at him. Her radiant smile captured in the pale moonlight, the look of love in her eyes makes him realise how truly important she is to him. How he longs to kick Glory into the next world, sweep Mackenzie away and begin the life that he suddenly feels possible- providing the world doesn't end.
Curled up in a comfortable chair at the Magic Shop, Mackenzie continues skimming through a thick volume.
The ritual must be carried out in a deliberate manner. The key shrouded in ritual garb, see figure 101, will be properly prepared by being bathed, see figure 102, dried with ceremonial cloth (see figure 103) and essential oils applied. After which, the Key is placed into the ritual dress, see figure 104, transported to the site and ceremoniously stabbed, see figure 105. Blood will begin the ritual, the portal shall open and darkness shall extinguish light for eternity on this night.
"Giles, I found this on the how the ceremony takes place, but nothing on the when or where" Mackenzie states and lets the book close.
"My dear, while it may appear that we are at a disadvantage, we will glean enough intel and Buffy will prevail."
"How do we keep Dawn safe from a shapeshifter?" Mackenzie pauses in thought. "I mean, if Glory can take on any form – how can we be sure that she hasn't abducted one of us? Wouldn't that have been easier for her?"
"You are quite right." He replies as Buffy and Dawn enter the shop. "However, if I read one of the texts correctly, Glory would have to kill her intended host."
"Right, and that would mean, she would have to have enough knowledge of each of us to fit seamlessly. And considering that fact, she chose that doctor Ben." She says.
"It would appear so. That would have been the best way for her to infiltrate the group without having prior knowledge. I'm just glad that we were able to figure that out."
"I agree, that would have been disastrous, Tara being mind raped is bad enough to deal with. I hope that Willow can make it through. We will get everything back to where it was." Mackenzie has hope in her tone, which makes Giles smile.
"Hey guys," Buffy says happily while Dawn retires to her usual table to dump her book bag and start homework, or research.
"Hey, Buffy." Mackenzie smiles brightly setting the book aside.
"Are you here to train?" Giles inquires stepping around the counter as Anya exits the office.
"Yup. I thought a few more sessions before I kick the she-bitch into the next whatever or wherever that is, is in order." She replies and follows Giles to the backroom to their training room.
Knowing the significance of her findings, Mackenzie grabs a Post-It Note and quickly opens the book to the pages she had read, sticking the note to remind her to go over the passages again later.
"I better get going. I'm meeting Duncan for dinner and training." She looks over at Anya, who had been looking over her shoulder.
"I'll let them know where you are." Anya smiles warmly. "So Giles doesn't worry." She adds in a hushed tone with a wink.
"Thanks, Anya. Once this is all over we're all going to party!" Mackenzie smiles brightly and gathers her things to go.
"Kenzie." Dawn's voice almost seems small.
"What's up Dawn?" Mackenzie inquires, keeping her tone upbeat.
"I'm sorry." She looks down for a moment. "If I had never been born, or created, none of this would be happening." Dawn sighs and opens one of the many books in front of her.
"There is nothing to be sorry for. Our job is keeping you super safe. Buffy will save the world and we can get back to our regularly scheduled 'normal'."
"Thanks." Dawn tries to smile a bit. "See you later?"
"You got it," Mackenzie replies as she hooks her knapsack over her shoulder. "Anya, do me a favour?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"Give Xander a bit of a break?" she says, opening and slipping through the door before Anya has the chance to respond.
Wonder what that's supposed to mean? Anya muses while going through inventory and making notes in her little ledger. Can't be overly important if she's that vague. Order eye of newt, romance sprinkles and revenge powder she smiles satisfied completing her task, before moving onto busying herself with general tidying, rearranging shelves, re-shelving books, and chatting with Dawn. Helping her with homework while waiting for Buffy and Giles to emerge from the gym.
"So how much longer until the end of the world?" Duncan inquires over coffee.
"Buffy is nearly ready to pounce. I just hope that the element of surprise will assist in her saving the world." Mackenzie replies before taking a sip of the hot liquid. "I am cautiously optimistic that all goes well and that we actually have some time to breathe before the next big bad comes to town."
"Next big bad?" Duncan says, cocking a thick eyebrow.
"Duncan. So far, Buffy has saved the world numerous times. Once this is over; however that may be, there will be another situation to deal with.
"How exactly did you get involved in all this mess again?"
"WE! Got into this mess on our first run." She replies smugly. "Remember?"
"Oh, right! I almost forgot about that night." He puts his mug on the tray that sits on the coffee table. "Training in an hour sound okay?" he adds as he gets up and takes the tray to the kitchen.
"Sure, I'll put those in the dishwasher." Mackenzie joins him in the kitchen and quickly tidies up. "I'll grab my bag and then we can head to the dojo?" she says with a smile.
"I've been meaning to ask you. When are you planning on going back to Seacouver?"
"My teaching contract will be over this semester. You seem to have adjusted very well to your life here. I don't think that you need me anymore. You can train with Buffy and Giles to keep yourself sharp and I'll visit on a regular basis."
She had hoped that he would stay but knew that he would want to get back to his life back home. She also knew that Joe would eventually want to get back to his bar and playing weekly rather than monthly. "Besides, you've found your place with your friends. And Giles! I couldn't be happier for you."
"You thought I'd end up alone? Or worse? With Methos!"
"Something like that." He winks and they start preparing to leave. "You will invite us to the wedding, right?"
"DUNCAN! isn't that a bit presumptuous?"
"Just calling it as I see it. Meeting his family anytime soon?" his smile widens.
"Fingers crossed that Buffy saves the world." She pauses tying her shoelaces. "After which we are taking a much-needed vacation and I will be joining him on a voyage to England." She cannot help the blush that creeps up her neck, resting on her cheeks.
Arriving at the dojo after hours, Mackenzie follows Duncan and they set themselves up in their space. Stretching herself out, she takes a few sips of water before fixing her ponytail for their sparing session.
"I've mentioned your shoulder," Duncan instructs and she quickly corrects herself and lands a powerful kick. "Good!" Mackenzie then regroups for another round of offensive attacks, all of which Duncan counters and then switches their roles. Forcing her to kick into defense mode and anticipate his attacks. "That's what I'm talking about." He adds with another smile.
"Thanks." She replies as their sparing draws to an end. Bowing slightly, Mackenzie heads to her bag on the bench to retrieve her water bottle. Taking a much-needed gulp of water, she sighs contently.
"You're going to be just fine," Duncan assures her while toweling a bit of sweat from his brow.
Duncan pauses for a moment, a look on his face she has seen many times over the years.
"Hey, guys!" Methos calls with a wave.
"Methos, what brings you here?" Duncan makes his way to his friend and they shake hands.
"Got some disturbing news." He replies calmly.
"That being?" Mackenzie's heart sinks.
"Dawn has been kidnapped by Glory's minions." Methos stats with a frown and a serious look on his face. She feels as though the wind has been knocked right out of her and fights the need to spring into action. "Giles has asked that you stay away from what may or may not be." He holds his hands up. "Please reframe from killing the messenger."
"You're right." She replies in defeat and merely flops onto the bench with a loud sigh. "I just thought we had more time." Was all she could manage.
"You will have all the time in the world," Duncan says his soothing Scottish accent, slightly calming her rattled nerves. "Buffy will defeat this foe and yes you are right. There will be others and you shall prevail. You and Giles have long lives that will be spent growing old together." He adds with his familiar smile. Nodding her understanding, Mackenzie cannot stop the tears that have welled up fall freely down her cheeks. Methos quickly closes the distance between them and wraps her in his embrace, letting her tears soak through the thin material of his Henley.
"I know I always give you a head time, but it's actually because I care. You know?" Methos whispers in her ear, gently rocking to soothe her. She moves to look at him.
"Methos, does it get any easier?" he reaches to cup her cheek and wipes at the tears with the pad of his thumb.
"You love him. He's in danger. I'm going to be totally honest. No, it doesn't get any easier. Watching your friends die because of this sick game is one thing. Keeping tabs on the ones we love is another. Kenzie, you'll figure this all out as you go along." He smiles as Duncan returns with a tissue.
"I meant to ask either of you if you have ever heard of or encountered Glory?" Mackenzie asks while putting the tissue in the pocket of her gym bag and grabbing her water bottle.
"I haven't," Duncan answers honestly and looks towards Methos.
"Nor have I." he replies standing.
"Just wondered if I could pick your brains, was all."
"Until we know what's actually going on, Mackenzie, may I suggest you try and do anything but think about it." Duncan smiles and she nods her understanding. "The problem is that I know you too well."
"Yeah, pretty much. I think I'll go home and call my mom. I haven't really had the chance to speak with her much after the funeral." She sighs standing and grabs her gym bag.
"You know if you need anything?" she nods her response and makes her way out the double doors to her car. "Why don't you take some time and go visit your family. I'm sure that they would really like to see you for longer than a week." Duncan suggests.
"School is busy right now." Her reply automatic, but this time she can see Duncan's expression soften. "Perhaps I can look at things, ask the professors for permission to submit my assignments via email, and maybe pick up an extra essay or assignment in place of a test or exam." She rationalises.
"There, that's better." He quickly gives her hug and they move so she can pick up her gym bag. "We'll talk before you go?" she nodes her ascent.
"Good night. Talk to you soon." She heads to the doors and makes her way out to her car.
"She's a tough cookie," Methos says with a smile.
"I know," Duncan replies. "But I cannot help but worry about her."
"You've known her long enough to care about her as though she were your own daughter," Methos adds.
"You're right. I hadn't exactly thought about that."
"We've watched as she has grown into a beautiful young woman who has the world by the tail and doesn't even know it."
"If Horton has his way, the rug will be tugged out from underneath." Duncan makes a quick observation. "He won't easily give up his power over the Watcher's Council."
"Ah, he's not smart enough. He can't see past his own ego the reality of how very little power he actually holds." Methos leans against the wall, arms folded casually across his broad chest.
"But even so, we'll just have to help in keeping her safe."
"I agree. And Giles is the perfect match for that particular job." Duncan nods in agreement. "Then it's settled. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Kenzie, love, we're regrouping. I just wanted to speak with you before we leave and I'm out of communication." Giles' voice is slightly faint as she assumes he is on some sort of speakerphone. Mackenzie thinks that their conversation isn't as private as she had hoped, she tries to keep a smile in her tone so he won't waste thoughts on her.
"I miss you terribly." She says laying back on her bed.
"I miss you too, my love. Is everything there going well?" He inquires.
"Yes, I'm glad that I managed to convince my professors to allow me the options of working on all assignments from home and turn them in by email."
"I'm glad that you are with those who love you." He says with a smile. "This isn't the best way for me to say this. I love you Mackenzie and will make my way back to you once this is all over." She is calmed by the confidence in his voice. That, and knowing how many previous apocalypses he has already helped Buffy defeat.
"I can't wait to see you. Giles, I love you too." She smiles and waits for a moment, hearing his breath quicken slightly.
"I'll call you."
"I'll be waiting for good news." She waits for a moment. "Talk to you soon."
"Yes, my love." He ends the call and she sighs loudly.
Downstairs, her family sits around the dinningroom table happily chatting. Mackenzie takes one last breath to calm herself enough to make her way to the adjoining bath to quickly splash water on her face and wash her hands for dinner.
"Sorry, I'm late."
"You were on the phone. I didn't want to disturb you." Jason states with a half-smile. "I assume it was Giles with some news?"
"Not the kind I'm waiting for. They will be heading to what they feel is the ritual site soon." She sits in her place and starts helping herself to a piece of chicken, some veggies, and sweet potato. "This looks wonderful mom." She smiles.
"Everything will be fine." Her mother's tone is soothing as they continue to eat their meal. Conversation shifts to anything but the unknown.
Meanwhile, Glory, still in Ben's form enters the room wearing a ceremonial robe and holds a small pile of clothing. Behind are a couple of the minions awaiting instructions. Staring down at Dawn, who sits on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest protectively.
"They, uh said you have to put this on," he pauses, "for the ceremony," Ben states holding the clothes out towards her meekly.
"What if I don't like the colour?" she asks, a note of defiance in her tone. Still hopeful that Buffy will figure out a way to save her once more.
"Look, I," another pause as though he were trying to find the proper wording, "I wish there was another way."
"And I wish you'd fall on your head and drown in your own barf, so," she shrugs her slights shoulders, "we're both disappointed."
"I think… it'll be quick."
"Actually sir, the bleeding is quite a slow process to give the portal time to." One of the minions interrupts the conversation.
"Thank you… for the information," he turns his attention back to Dawn, "I'll do what I can too."
"Change." Dawn demands.
"What?" a confused look in response.
"Change. Be her. I don't wanna look at you." She spits. Ben shakes his head.
"I don't think you wanna." But she interrupts him.
"Be Glory. Be Glory. Glory! Glory! Glory!"
"Will you stop." He replies as he begins morphing into her. "Shouting already?" Dawn just scowls back at her.
"Huh?" shaking the garment, a medieval-style dress. She examines it then turns back to Dawn. "So what's the hubbub, bub?" sitting in a nearby chair, "what do you got against old Benjy?"
"He's a monster. At least you're upfront about it." A slight challenge in Dawn's voice. Glory absently picks at the hem of the dress.
"Don't be so hard on the boy. He just wants to live. Most guys would do the same." She pauses momentarily, "he's probably the reason your sis and her little cartoon pals are still alive. That little nagging pinch of humanity that makes me go for the hurt instead of the kill." Her gaze stern on Dawn. "Lowering myself to trade blows with the Slayer when I should have just put my fist through her heart."
Watching as Buffy relentlessly punch the hanging bag, Giles paces and frowns slightly.
"You sure you're not going to tire yourself out?" he asks stopping and crossing his arms studying her form. She pauses momentarily, almost in thought.
"I'm sure." Her reply simple and she returns her focus to the bag. Sure that he can be heard through her focus, he continues.
"We're still working on ideas," Buffy stops mid punch. "Time's short, but, uh, best to leave it to the last moment." He watches as Buffy stretches her arms. "If we go in too early and she takes us out, no chance of getting her to miss her window."
"Then we wait." She replies simply, trusting her Watcher's input on their situation, wishing that there was more time. The pain of the loss over the past year, Buffy inhales deeply and lands one final punch, releasing the bag from its chain, it falls to the ground with a loud thud. Buffy merely stars at it and shakes the impact from her arm.
Their conversation continues and they discuss their feelings for Dawn and the many times they saved the world. Buffy's tone changes as she reveals her pain in sacrificing her first love, Angel to save the world.
"The Spirit Guide told me that death is my gift." She tilts her head in thought. "Guess it means a Slayer really is just a killer after all." She states matter-of-factly. Giles' expression falls slightly, sitting in thought on the sofa.
"I think you're wrong about that." He says quietly.
"It doesn't matter. If Dawn dies, I'm done with it. I'm quitting." She states leaving Giles in her wake.
I truly hope that our plan works, Giles thinks to himself standing and making his way out of the training gym.
The team make their way to the ritual site and quickly realise that they are in for one hell of a fight, as Glory had ensured that all of her basis are covered. Various levels of reinforcement strategically placed, ready and awaiting the command to defend the ritual site. Anticipating the resistance, the Scoobies put their plan into action so Buffy can begin the climb towards Dawn. Glory, however, has another plan. She lets her minions and distractions handle the gang so she can turn her full attention to Buffy, who has begun her ascent and they engage in battle. Dawn looks down in dismay.
"Buffy!" she hollers loudly. The distraction gives Glory a chance to hit Buffy hard in the leg, who responds with a loud gasp in pain. Exchanging more blows, Buffy manages to get past Glory and climb the outer scaffolding. Realising Buffy's plan, she follows suit and kicks Buffy. Buffy slides down, avoiding another hit she runs up a ramp and kicks Glory in the face, then just as quickly runs back down the ramp to retrieve the hammer. Masterfully swinging the hammer, she moves towards Glory, hitting her before knocking out a ladder.
The hit to Buffy's face causes her to lose her balance and falling backwards, she grabs a hold of Glory as they fall off the structure. A loud, bone-crunching thud echoes, the hammer landing nearby. Hearing the sound, Spike in the middle of neutralising two minions looks over. Seeing Buffy rise, he sighs relief and continues his assigned task. Glory is also on her feet and Buffy violently grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her quite a few yards away – nearly into a wall. A shame, Buffy thinks.
"You lost your hammer, sweet cheeks." Glory taunts the Slayer. "What are you gonna hit me with now?" a victorious grin on her crimson lips. Buffy takes a moment to think and sees what's about to occur. Glory turns just in time to catch the huge wrecking ball as it crashes through the wall and into her, flinging her into another wall.
"Whatever's handy." Buffy quips making a mad dash to retrieve the hammer on her way back to Dawn and stopping the ritual.
"The glorified bricklayer picks up the spare," Xander exclaims happily with a wide grin.
Dawn watches as the chaos below unfolds. Nearby movement catches her attention and she gasps at the sight of Doc.
"You, you can help me. Untie me, please. Help me, she's coming." Dawn pleads as Doc makes his way towards her.
"Well, it seems she's running a bit late, is the thing. And, uh, if her Splendidness can't be here in time to bleed you." He pauses, Dawn appears as scared and anxious as she is, realises that there was no way she could persuade him to help her.
"Hey!" he winks, "kid. Wanna see a trick?" he asks jovially. She cannot answer, only stares back at him. Like a magician, he produces a large, shiny knife and holds it up for her to see. Dawn's eyes widen, but she cannot stop the gasp that escapes her lips as she cringes at the thought of being stabbed to death and slowly by the sounds of it.
While below Buffy brings Glory to the brink of death, above the Doc is hell-bent on opening the portal.
"Shallow cuts." He says simply ignoring her crying. "Shallow cuts." He makes another cut and Dawn can't stop the cry out in pain. "Let the blood," he pauses again. "Flow." He looks down at Dawn's feet and can see the blood drip on her bare toes. "Free." He continues.
"Dawn!" Buffy calls.
"Buffy!" Dawn shrieks, gasping in pain, Doc turns on his heel as Buffy confidently makes her way towards them.
"This should be interesting." He muses aloud. Buffy pushes past him, causing him to fall over the edge with a scream.
"Here." She says in a soothing tone. Dawn continues to whimper.
"Buffy, it hurts." She manages.
"I got it. Come here. You're gonna be okay." Buffy coaxes Dawn towards her, but a few drops of blood drip over the edge and almost immediately the droplets meet 'something' unseen and a small circular, growing light appears mid-air.
Leading Dawn off the platform towards the tower's entrance, Dawn pauses and turns to Buffy.
"Go!" Buffy says pushing Dawn forward.
"Buffy, it's started." Dawn and Buffy both turn and see the light of the rapidly growing portal. What they do not see is the havoc the portal is raining upon Sunnydale. "I'm sorry." Dawn's tears make their way down her cheeks. Buffy takes a breath.
"It doesn't matter." She replies simply. Trying to run past Buffy to fling herself into the portal, Dawn is easily contained in Buffy's arms. "What are you doing?" she demands.
"I have to jump. The energy."
"It'll kill you." Buffy's response serious.
"I know." Her reply, hardly above a whisper. "Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it."
"No," Buffy replies, they both feel the sway of the tower beneath them and stumble.
"I have to. Look what's happening." She tries to convince her sister. The rumble of the portal increases in volume as a dragon emerges and they can only watch as it flies away. "Buffy, you have to let me go. Blood starts it and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop." Her logic running through Buffy's mind and she stares at Dawn in anguish and near defeat. "You know you have to let me. It has to have the blood." She continues preparing herself to jump. It is in that moment of clarity that Buffy truly realises the connection.
"'Cause it's always got to be blood," Spike states matter-of-factly as though there are no other answers.
"It's Summer's blood. It's just like mine." Buffy's moment of clarity is confirmed by the voice of the first Slayer.
"Death is your gift."
Anticipating Dawn's inevitable protests, Buffy frowns and turns slowly, in a momentary moment of tranquillity, Buffy quickly turns back to Dawn who quickly realises her plan.
"Buffy no!"
"Dawnie, I have to." She replies simply.
"No!" Dawn protests. Buffy takes her sister gently, holding her gently by her upper arms.
"Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time. Listen." Having said what needed to be said, Buffy lovingly strokes Dawn's face, kisses her cheek while Dawn continues to cry. It is as if the world moves in slow-motion, Dawn watches as Buffy turns away from her and runs down the platform diving off the end into the turbulent portal as though diving into a swimming pool.
Buffy lands in a pile of rubble, concrete, metal poles and posts. The group manages to gather themselves and make their way towards her. Dawn has somehow managed to make her way safely down from the high tower, she almost cannot take in the sight in front of her. Tears still streaming down her cheeks, all she can think is that the outcome is her fault. Unable to move, they stare at her lifeless body in disbelief.
"What are we going to do?" Willow is the first to speak.
"Everything she said," Xander replies simply as he wipes tears from his eyes with the back of his dusty hand. Anya coughs and hangs onto Xander to maintain her balance. Giles kneels and reaches out towards her. Brushing the hair away from her face, he too brushes tears away.
"It's NOT FAIR!" Dawn screams at the top of her lungs as though it will make her feel any better, or that somehow, she is unsure, Buffy will open her eyes. The reality evident, Giles picks up his cell phone.
"What are you doing?" Xander inquires.
"Calling it in," he replies simply after dialing 9-1-1 to report the accident.
Having the others take Dawn back to his flat, Giles stays behind in wait for the ambulance. It feels like a long wait, but he spends the time sitting next to her, stroking her face and hair, quietly chatting away. He hardly notices when the paramedics arrive with their stretcher.
"Oh wow!" one of the paramedics states, not so under his breath.
"It's her." The other says as they make their way to her side, their medical equipment ready to be used.
"I'm afraid, she's gone," Giles states simply. "Whatever do you mean by it's her?"
"We were on duty when her mother passed." The reply while they carefully gather her body and transport it onto the stretcher. "A shame really. She seems rather young." He adds as they make their way to the ambulance, Giles not knowing why, but following.
"Just a moment, please." He pleads.
"Sure." They give him a moment alone with her. Once he kisses her cold forehead, the paramedics artfully cover her angelic looking face with the white sheet. Giles watches as the ambulance pulls away, his Slayer now completely out of commission. She gave so much to them and he began to wonder what they had truly given her in return. Perhaps she has found her piece, he muses staring at the pile of rubble, now bloodstained. Hoping that whatever assistance they had given was enough, Giles finally makes his way towards the parking lot.
Too soon, they find themselves again at the cemetery gathered around the freshly covered final resting place of their beloved daughter, sister, and friend. Holding each other for support, they stare down at the headstone:
BUFFY ANN SUMMERS
1981-2001
BELOVED SISTER
DEVOTED FRIEND
SHE SAVED THE WORLD
A LOT
They take their respective turn laying flowers on the gravesite and then reassemble at the sidewalk to make their way back to Kenzie's flat for an afternoon of celebrating the life of their extraordinary friend.