Giles faced the
window again. "We're not going to do this," he told her.
"There is no
other way."
"There has to
be."
Anya approached him,
her eyes full of understanding. She let her hand trail across his back, wanting
to soothe the tension away, but her next words only made him pull away again.
"There isn't."
"This
discussion is closed. We have an army of Slayers at our disposal."
"Who are spread
out all over the world."
"Including
California. There could be dozens..."
"And we're
going to find them in the next hour and use these untrained girls to storm
through an army of vampires in time to save Buffy from getting her throat slit?
You know that won't work."
He laughed a little
at that. Of course Anya would take the pragmatic view and point out the
preposterousness of his excuses. There wasn't anybody else like her. He studied
her, cupping his palm gently against her face. "This isn't real, none of
it. I've always tried to keep my eyes open and see what needed to be done.
Sometimes it's cost me more than I wanted to give."
"It's what you
have to do again."
"But this time
it's too much. The price..."
"The price is a
woman who lived for over a millennium and who is already gone."
"No."
"Your lives,
yours and Dawn's and Buffy's and Xander's and Willow's and even what's his name
out there - they're short and precious. You know this is the only way."
He couldn't disagree
with her, and he couldn't find his voice to tell her what he was feeling. He
pulled her close and held her. Tears connected their cheeks, yet he didn't know
which of them was the source. It didn't matter. He let his lips find hers and
she was waiting for him, her hands loosening the buttons of his shirt and
caressing the warmth of his body. Hot feelings coursed through him, want and
need and anger and the desire to sink into an abyss of not caring or thinking.
"Anya..."
"Don't talk.
Make love to me."
"I can't lose
you."
"Shh. Come to
bed and we'll think about it later. Please..."
He kissed her again,
and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the soft mattress. She wrapped
herself around him and whispered sounds of love and need against his throat and
chest. He gave in, embracing her promise of sweet oblivion.
*****
"Do we have it
all?" Xander asked.
Willow took mental
inventory of the supplies gathered on the floor. Ground newt's feet,
check. Dithumen ashes, check. Mineral oil, check. "Looks like it.
Everything is the same as when I did the first spell.
"One thing
isn't," Dawn said.
They looked at her
questioningly.
"Buffy,"
she pointed out. "Buffy isn't here."
Xander threw his arm
around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "We'll get her back."
"She's
right!" Willow said, her forehead furrowed in worry. "Buffy's not
here."
"What's the
big?"
"Don't you see?
It could throw off the whole thing. There were six of us - me to do the spell,
four to make up the circle and Buffy in the center. The whole balance will be
thrown off without Buffy."
"There's
Anya," Andrew said. "She wasn't here before, right?"
Willow studied the
floor before them silently.
"He's
right," Dawn said solemnly. "Anya can take Buffy's place."
They silently set to
work, laying out the circle and lighting the candles.
*****
Giles slowly
buttoned his shirt and stared unseeingly at the framed landscape on the wall.
Anya was fussing with her hair at the dresser and nattering on inanely. He
barely noticed.
"It's
time," she said.
He was jarred from
his reverie. She stood before him, fresh and so dear. He took her hand in his
and studied its youthful smoothness.
"Are you
ready?" she asked.
"Anya..."
"Don't give me
that ridiculous lecture about not doing this. They're waiting."
He stood, not
understanding why his body seemed to be detached from the order to stay seated
that his mind had given it. He didn't want to leave this room. Still, his feet
shuffled to the door. Odd, he could feel the carpet. Oh, he'd forgotten to put
on his shoes. That wouldn't do. A proper Watcher didn't perform spells in his
stocking feet. Must return to the sanctuary of the room and retrieve them.
"Don't,"
Anya told him. "They're waiting."
"Of
course."
They moved through
the doorway, Anya holding the door for him. Now see? That was wrong as well. He
was a gentleman and he should hold doors for his betrothed.
*****
The others looked up
at him expectantly. What in the hell did they expect him to say? He walked to
the small table and checked the book. It was already opened to the proper page.
"We, uh, we
thought Anya should sit in the middle, where Buffy was," Willow told him.
"Of course.
Perfect reasoning," he intoned.
"And I'll take
your seat, since you'll be doing the spell," she continued. "I think
everything's ready."
He nodded and lifted
the small jar of oil, carrying it to the center of the circle. He dipped his
thumb inside and knelt in front of Anya.
"What's that
for?" she asked.
"It's... it's
protective. It keeps the subject from falling under the influence of..."
He clenched his fist. He was sitting here describing this as if he weren't
about to send this woman back to oblivion. There was so much more he wanted to
tell her, but his mind only seemed to be functioning in terms of text and
procedure.
He lifted his hand
again. "This will ensure that the spell sets things back to rights. You
weren't here and..." He couldn't continue.
She lifted her hand
to his, urging it toward her face. "Go ahead."
He knew he couldn't do it, even as he touched
his thumb to her brow and gently anointed her. She nodded softly, pride shining
from her eyes. He lingered, wanting to hold her, knowing that there was no time
left to do so. He stood and backed away, finding the book and absently lifting
it, going through motions long ingrained. He was a Watcher. This is what he
did.
"Join
hands," he said.
Willow, Xander, Dawn
and Andrew clasped hands and closed their eyes.
Giles read from the
book, sprinkled the ashes, finished the rest of the text, and then closed the
tome with a soft ruffling of pages. It slipped from his fingers.
"It's
done," he said, turning away.
Willow opened her
eyes and looked to the others, who were also glancing around wonderingly.
Everything looked the same and felt the same. How would they know if it worked?
She caught Xander's eyes and noticed the stricken look there.
"Xander?"
He nodded to the
center of the circle, and Willow felt her breath catch.
Anya was gone.