jedibuttercup

PG-13, B:tVS/Stargate SG-1; 3000 words. Part 6 of my Dawn + Clone!Daniel saga, See For Yourself.

Nick remembered the translation that had provoked his first real conversation with Dawn only the day before, and wondered what they'd have to exchange for this particular piece of knowledge.

Title: See For Yourself, Part 6 - Making the Exchange
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds belong to Whedon and SyFy.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: B:tVS mid-7.15 "Get it Done", Stargate SG-1 mid-season 8, AU
Notes: Part 6 of See For Yourself. Thanks to

beckyh2112 for reminding me about this particular AU!

Summary: Nick remembered the translation that had provoked his first real conversation with Dawn only the day before, and wondered what they'd have to exchange for this particular piece of knowledge.

The problem with the First Evil, Buffy had realized back in the shadowcaster's realm, was that it actually... wasn't. The first. It just liked to pretend it was, to make people feel more helpless and afraid, then savored that fear like a particularly fine merlot. Over the years, a lot of scared people had told ever scarier stories to ramp up the mythology, until pretty soon, it was older than creation, tempted Eve into original sin, and would instantly subjugate all of humanity... if only it had a physical form to do it with.

Really, it was the physical form thing that was the kicker. Yeah, sure, it was ancient and enormous and good at manipulating people ... but it was still formless, and really fixated on a mysterious seal that none of the Scoobies had seen or heard of before that year. Look, ma, no hands! was only really impressive when you were a kid on a unicycle; for the most part, they had to let it have power over them to hurt them directly. Otherwise, it could only act through its minions.

No, it wasn't the first; what it was, was the last. The last of the true demons. It was the only thing that made sense out of all the bits and pieces of origin stories she'd heard.

The Sunnydale Hellmouth was the biggest and best known because it was where Sineya, the First of the Ones, had got her Slay on. She'd killed the First's corporeal form, that ginormous, horned glowy-eyed shape Buffy had seen, years ago. But some of Giles' books talked about its heyday as a time when the line between things that were physically there and things that were only real inside your head was a lot blurrier; when it had fallen, the non-physical part of it had remained to keep working its smoky fingers into every soul it could. The Shadow Men had installed the Seal as an anchor to keep its strongest sphere of activity tied to the place of its mortal end, kind of like Wendy Darling taking a sewing needle to Pan's shadow.

Those same Shadow Men had tried to only show her what was waiting beyond it-- the army of Ubervamps the First had recruited. But they'd just given Buffy the heart, soul, and spirit of a lesser shadow demon in addition to the powers she'd inherited from her First. They hadn't been able to stop her from prying deeper. She hadn't just Seen the source of the Seal... but what she'd have to do to fully close it.

That Joe Boxer's Eye thing had told Giles and Anya that Buffy's resurrection had been the glitch that gave the First a chance to work its way free. The only way that made any sense was if the Seal was tied to Sineya's very essence; to the unbroken chain of the Slayer line. Buffy had kinked that line by returning and reclaiming Sineya's power, not once but twice. If she'd stayed dead after taking out Glory, that would have closed the loophole; but she hadn't, and there was only one way to snip off the loose end she represented now without shredding the line into so many pieces the First couldn't get a grip on it at all. It had amassed enough power that just her death wouldn't do it this time.

Finding Dawnie's new friends in the house when she returned from the shadow realm all demony fresh with that vital info burning a hole in her pocket had not been part of her new plan. But she could roll with it; their strange zap guns would be good backup for Spike in keeping the Bringers from interfering with what she and Willow would have to do, not to mention an added layer of protection for Dawn, and they could hash out the whys and whos of everything when they had the First Evil muzzled again.

"You guys got all that?" she asked, looking around the living room at the core of her team: Xander and Willow, who'd been in it with her from the beginning; Kennedy, the best trained of the also-rans, who had a vested interest in keeping Willow safe; and Spike, who... had a vested interest in her. Even with the unresolved issue of the trigger, he was the second strongest fighter on their side, and Buffy didn't think the First would risk him breaking out of the programming again by turning him against her directly.

"You're that sure this is the right thing to do?" Spike said skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sure that we're all going to walk out of there alive? Or sure that this is the quickest, best option we have to shut this thing down before a lot more innocent people get killed?" She looked back over her shoulder toward the back door and the patch of disturbed earth where she'd buried Chloe the night before. "I think we've got to take the chance."

"No, sure that this is really your idea, and not whatever demony mojo you came back with," he continued doggedly. His jaw was set in a belligerent, eminently Spikish scowl, but she could see the concern lurking behind it in his stormy blue eyes. "You're talking about offering yourself up to the Seal, Buffy. I don't care what the First Slayer said to you; how can you be sure it's not the First Evil, calling you down there so it can set up shop in your body and not just your image?"

Buffy sighed. She could see how he might worry; but she could also See exactly why that wouldn't happen, and it irritated her that she was limited to the medium of words to explain it. "I'm not offering myself to it. It's... it has to do with the fact that the First Slayer bled there too, and laws of, uh, dissimilarity, and... a whole lot of other mystical things I'm not really qualified to explain. You're just going to have to trust me."

"Even if you're right, though, why not just us? Why take Dawn and her friends along?" Xander put in his two cents. "Especially the boys. If their uncles are part of some Initiative-y organization, letting them see what you can really do might just be asking for a cage in your future. You know that, Buffy. At least, before demon you would have known that."

"Before slightly more demony me," Buffy snorted. "Really don't think you're one to be talking, all things considered." After what they'd heard about Cordy, and what they now knew about Slayers? Not a one of Xander's exes hadn't been all or part demon at some point in their lives.

"He has a point though, Buffy," Kennedy frowned. "Why shouldn't your sister stay here? She's not even a Potential."

"In an ideal world? Of course she should," Buffy shrugged. "I'd ask her to take her friends upstairs with Anya and the Potentials and call it a slumber party. But-- for mystical reasons, in some ways, we count as the same person. I can't explain it now-- but I can't take the risk that she might affect the loophole, too."

Spike sighed, then relaxed his posture. "Well. Long as you've thought this through. I'm in. Better we try it now, before we're up to our ears in more Bringers and Turok Han than we can handle."

Xander gave a resigned nod. "I backed you up with nothing better than a rock in my hand once, when you'd just spent months angsting while your boyfriend was killing people, so..." he said in musing tones, then held up a finger as if he'd just had a revelation. "Oh, wait!"

"Xander!" Willow hit him in the arm, shooting an apologetic glance at Buffy. "Of course I'm in too, I'm just-- you know how iffy the magics are for me right now. Do you really think it's a good idea for me to be accessing them directly over the Hellmouth? What if it all goes wrong?"

"It won't," Buffy shook her head. "This is all about me; the power, the weakness, what comes next. You just have to speak its language, frame it as a ritual that'll stick."

"If you're sure," Willow said, then turned to Kennedy.

Kennedy still looked pale and a little wary, the way she had when Buffy had first come back through the portal; Buffy wasn't sure what exactly the story was there, but the Potential Slayer swallowed under Willow's searching gaze, then nodded and reached out to twine her fingers through the red-haired witch's. "If you're in, I'm in."

"Good. Great," Buffy clapped her hands together. "Then let's arm up, and tell the others what's the what."

She turned toward the weapons chest, and began digging through it for her favorite sword.

Time for show and tell? What? Nick blinked at the blonde woman with the three feet of sharp steel in her hand. "Depends on who's doing the showing and who's doing the telling," he answered her, warily.

Buffy Summers had been creepily cheerful ever since she'd walked back through a wall of blue light with black-washed eyes; but there was something more earnestly appreciative in her expression as she grinned in reaction to his comment. It made her shared heritage with her sister a lot more obvious. "If you turn out to be evil, I'm going to be really disappointed, you know; with a smart mouth like that, you fit right in."

"You might be surprised how many dangerous women have said something like that to him over the years," Jon drawled at his side. "And I notice you didn't answer his question."

"Sorry, was that a question?" Buffy raised an eyebrow at Jon. "Either of you boys know how to use a sword?"

Nick exchanged a wary look with Jon. "Some?" he shrugged, echoed by Jon. He'd encountered a lot of primitive weaponry in his anthropological and archaeological studies even before he'd joined the Stargate program, and both of them-- well, the original versions of Jack and Daniel-- had run into a lot more in their trips off world. The Goa'uld had liked to limit their slave worlds' technology as much as they could, resulting in highly uneven tech levels in the various cultures SG-1 had visited through the Stargate.

"Some's better than none," she nodded, "and I'd prefer you have some kind of backup for your zap guns in case they don't work on everything. Weapons chest's in there; pick whatever you're most comfortable with."

That... was not what Nick had been expecting. He threw a wide-eyed glance at Dawn; she seemed equally surprised, but not in a negative way. Whatever her sister seemed to be implying with her offer of a show-and-tell nearly had Dawn vibrating out of her skin in anticipation, in fact.

"Thanks, I think," he said, dragging Jon with him toward a gorgeously hand-carved chest that held a startling range of live, well-cared for edged weapons. He handled several before choosing a gladius-- a Roman-style short sword-- that fit his hand well; he saw several knives disappear on Jon's person before he picked something a little heftier, a hand-and-a-half sword with a mystical symbol etched into the knob on its pommel. To his surprise, Dawn was right there with them, choosing a crossbow of her own; he'd thought Buffy might have been trying to separate her from them again to give her some kind of extra directions, but it was the principal hanging back for a low-voiced conversation this time.

"Fine," Wood finally said, raising his voice again as the teenagers finalized their choices. "I'm the one with the keys anyway; you're not going down there without me."

"Good," Buffy replied, firmly. Then she eyed Nick, Jon, and Dawn again, checking them over, and nodded. "Stay behind me as much as you can. Decapitation or a bolt through the heart will fell just about anything. Anything that doesn't work on, yell for one of us and run. Any more questions?"

"Yeah. Where exactly is this show and tell going to happen?" Jon groused.

"Where else? Under the high school. Ground zero for hell on earth," Dawn answered for her sister, with a grimace.

Somehow, Nick got the feeling she didn't mean that as a metaphor. "You're... serious," he blinked at her.

"Dead serious. Well, live serious," Dawn made a face, then chuckled. "Buffy's the one who's dead serious, and Spike's undead serious, so we're pretty much covered on the serious front."

Jon snorted, then nudged Nick. "Babble at each other later. This, I've gotta see."

For themselves? Nick remembered the translation that had provoked his first real conversation with Dawn only the day before, and wondered what they'd have to exchange for this particular piece of knowledge. Well, only one way to find out.

"All right then. Dawn, lock the door behind you," Buffy said, then headed for the front door.

The march across Sunnydale in the dark reminded Nick of the groups of girls he and Jon had seen leaving the Summers residence night after night over the past couple of weeks; they hadn't understood what the purpose was before, but Buffy's throwaway mention of a 'patrol' earlier made him wonder, now, what other beings' movements they'd missed. Their focus had been on what they'd assumed at the time was a resistance organization formed to fight a group of sneaky Goa'uld, and if it really had been Goa'uld, that would have been fine; but it wasn't, and if his elder self were there, he'd be getting a lecture on making assumptions.

That would have to wait for later, though. For now... he turned on a heel as a bush next to their sidewalk suddenly rustled and shook, then disgorged a man with no eyes thrusting a very sharp knife in their direction.

"Buffy, Bringers!" Dawn called, raising her crossbow and taking a shot as she backed out of its way.

The bolt didn't slow it-- but Nick's sword did as he swung to block the 'Bringer's' knife, and then Jon's blade was there, transfixing the thing through the torso. He brought up a boot to kick its corpse off the blade, then swung to face the next Bringer rushing out of the bushes, leaving Nick to face the third.

The jarring swing of the razor sharp blade through that Bringer's spine threatened to bring Nick's gorge up in his throat; but it did the job, and then Buffy was there, taking Jon's opponent out and then urging them onward.

That wasn't the last fight-- or the easiest-- in the two blocks nearest the high school; by the time they reached the doors, all of them but Buffy had at least one scratch, even Dawn, and several of them were covered in Bringers' bodily fluids, even after Nick and Jon had started alternating sword blocks with zat shots. Nick wished he'd brought peppermints, or Vicks Vapo-Rub, or anything else strong to cut the scent; but he'd smelled worse, and so had Jon. They closed up the gap between them as Principal Wood unlocked the doors and let them into the halls, protecting each other's backs as always; only this time, Dawn was between them, and neither Sam nor Teal'c were there to back them up.

"Where to now?" Nick called to the front of the group.

"Basement. Keep close; the walls have a way of moving around down there, it's creepy," Xander called back.

"Are we going to need a spool of thread?" Nick quipped, meeting gazes with Dawn.

"Nah; the guy that built this was no Daedalus. Buffy and Principal Wood know where we're going. And Spike practically lived down here for awhile," she shrugged, smiling crookedly.

"And of course she speaks your language," Jon gave an exasperated sigh.

"Speaks the man who also got the reference," Nick pointed out, taking the opportunity of the momentarily lull in the fight to wipe the blood from his blade with the hem of his shirt.

"Down here." The principal led them to a staircase, then waved them all down, gaze lingering suspiciously on Spike, and then Jon and Nick as they filed by one by one.

The basement seemed straightforward to Nick at first, despite the Labyrinth reference, but he saw Jon's frown deepen as they passed through room after room, as if it threw off his directional sense. Then the floor ahead of them abruptly opened up into a wide expanse of dirt, dipping at the center to expose a round, circular shape like a sewer cover of evil. It was marked with a pentagram and several arcane symbols, including a goat's head.

"Fascinating," he muttered. "This is the thing we're here for?"

"The Seal of Danzalthar," Dawn nodded. "Uh, Buffy, what now?"

Buffy's gaze had gone black again at some point; she didn't answer Dawn directly, just turned to the friend who'd opened the portal earlier. "Showtime," she said. "You know what to do?"

Willow wrung her hands. "I think so. You and Dawn start off; I'll follow you in Sumerian, then Latin."

"And the rest of us'll hold off anything that comes to interrupt," her girlfriend said, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Right," Buffy replied, then stepped over to the pit and waved her sister to her, before drawing her blade across her hand and squeezing her fist above the seal.

Dawn balked, voice rising in alarm. "You said it wouldn't need Summers blood!"

"Sorry. But it's just a few drops," Buffy assured her, then raised her voice. "So it can't ignore me when I say: I renounce all claim to the Line of Sineya; to the Line of the Ones! To the Slayer!"

A roar went up; the room lit with strange light; and more eyeless men, faces carved with strange symbols, poured into the room.

Nick swallowed, then dragged his gaze away from Dawn, now shakily cutting her hand, and readied his zat'nik'atel.

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