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Chapter 6
An hour later, Bra’tac watched as the tiny feminine warrior was lead by Hammond of Texas through the large gymnasium toward him. As soon as she stepped through the door, power such that he’d never felt before flooded, filled the air and he almost swayed backward, pushed by the weight of her strong presence. It was overwhelming, suffocating. How could such a small body contain such radiant energy? And yet, he recognized that there was something foreboding about her power, as if it originated in darkness. Bra’tac tensed. He could not sense a Goa’uld presence or any conscious connection to the darkness within her. It was as if she were unaware that her strength came from something evil. She would be a formidable enemy, he thought. If only she were Jaffa… Next to him, Teal’c whispered, “Do you see, Master Bra’tac? She is everything we said.” “Most impressive…” he agreed slowly, as he noticed her studying the room without drawing attention to herself. At once he realized that she was looking for potential weapons, alternate escape routes, and assessing him and the three Jaffa apprentices he brought with him. “Kree Teal’c!” Bra’tac muttered softly, “Do you see that even now, when she is at rest, she prepares for battle? She appears at ease, and yet she is attentive to the smallest...” Interrupting their conversation, General Hammond took his last step a few feet away from them and announced, “Master Bra’tac, please allow me to introduce Buffy Summers. She is from Sunnydale, California. Here on Earth.” Then he turned to Buffy, “Buffy, this is Master Bra’tac.” Buffy began to extend her right hand in greeting, but the gruff old warrior fisted his and crossed it over his chest in salute. “Buffy of Sunnydale, it is an honor to meet you. I am told that among the Tau’ri, you are known as the Slayer?” Buffy offered him a genuine smile, as he lowered his hand to grasp her forearm. “That’s me, Buffy the Slayer. It’s nice to meet you, too.” Then, she slid her hand down his arm and took hold of his hand. “This is how we say ‘hello’ on Earth. My Watcher... my teacher, Giles, told me that in ancient Rome, warriors would offer their sword hand as a sign that their intentions were peaceful.” “Is that so?” Bra’tac asked General Hammond while smiling indulgently at Buffy. The general nodded. “It is.” Gesturing to the Jaffa behind him, Buffy asked, “Who’s this?” Well done, little Slayer, Bra’tac thought. Determine if there is an enemy in your midst. With a small grin, he stepped aside and inclined his head. “Buffy the Slayer, these are my current apprentices: Ry’ac, son of Teal’c; Ul’rac, son of Norec; and Jaal’c, son of Ber’ac.” As their names were called, the three young Jaffa saluted her as Bra’tac had done. Buffy reached out and shook their hands in response. After the introductions, General Hammond turned to Buffy and mentioned, “Bra’tac was hoping for a chance to determine your skill level before you leave, in order to help further your training while you’re in the Land of Light. He has agreed to take you on as his only student for the few weeks that you’ll be away.” Buffy shook her head and then addressed Bra’tac. “That’s not necessary. I usually only train for an hour or two a day and I wouldn’t want to interfere in anyone else’s training schedule…” Incredulous, Bra’tac interrupted, “What do you do with the remainder of your time, Buffy the Slayer?” Buffy shrugged noncommittally. “During the day I go to school, spend time with friends and my mom. At night, I slay.” For a moment, silence reigned as the Jaffa visitors absorbed what she had said. Taking the opportunity to excuse himself, General Hammond mentioned, “Well, I think that you’re in more than capable hands, Buffy. If you all will excuse me, I need to get back to work.” Bra’tac’s students drew closer as the general departed. Ry’ac asked, “How can a warrior improve adequately if training is not conducted day and night, Buffy the Slayer?” Something sad passed over Buffy’s face. “Just call me Buffy… And I don’t know how other people train. I didn’t start training until I was fifteen…” Confused, Bra’tac addressed Teal’c, “How can this be?” “Buffy inherited her strength and skills from the Slayers who went before,” Teal’c answered. “According to the Tau’ri legends, each generation’s Slayer is their greatest warrior against evil. When one Slayer dies, the next is called forth to battle against the demons of this world. It is a mystical gift and each Slayer’s birthright.” All of the apprentices stared at Buffy in awe. Buffy looked away and shifted her weight onto her left foot. It was obvious to Bra’tac that his newest charge was uncomfortable, so he distracted the group by suggesting, “Perhaps we should begin now, Buffy th… er… Buffy?” Without another word, Buffy turned to her right and stepped onto the mat. She tucked the black tshirt more securely into the olive shorts she had been given by Sam and began some simple stretches. “Who do you want me to take on first?” she asked, “Teal’c and Ry’ac? Or maybe just your students?” Bra’tac smiled warmly. Despite her sullen disposition a few moments before, the little slayer was utterly focused on the task at hand. “If you think can offer a challenge to a Jaffa warrior of Teal’c’s strength and experience, and he agrees, that is the only test of skill I need to see today.” Swiftly, Teal’c bowed his head in acceptance, and assumed his place opposite Buffy on the mat. Before they could begin, Bra’tac asked, “Surely you will not use your staff weapon against an unarmed opponent, Teal’c?” Teal’c returned to the edge of the mat in order to give his staff weapon to Ry’ac, but Buffy rushed, “No, it’s fine. He can keep it.” Bra’tac raised an eyebrow at her comment, but conceded. “Very well, you may begin when ready.” Buffy and Teal’c circled slowly, each looking for an opening. Suddenly, Teal’c whirled his staff weapon around, but Buffy ducked just in time and it passed over her head. Stopping his staff in mid-swipe just as it spun over her head, Teal’c lowered it to meet Buffy’s middlle and brought it back the way it came. In the blink of an eye, Buffy leapt up somersaulting over Teal’c’s head. As her feet touched the ground, she pivoted and kicked Teal’c in the lower back. However, knowing that a rear attack was coming, Teal’c turned away from her kick so that her foot connected with his hip bone, rather than his lower spine. As he stumbled forward under the weight of her blow, he arced his staff upward, nearly catching her chin. Buffy thrust herself toward the ceiling, kicking his solar plexus with both feet. Teal’c flew backward several yards and landed on the hard concrete floor. Shaking his head, Teal’c stood and moved back into the fight. Buffy jumped up as he tried to take her legs out from under her with his staff weapon, and slammed a right cross into Teal’c’s left cheek, followed quickly by a left upper cut that sent him spiraling back to the floor. His staff weapon skittered across the dull grey concrete. Teal’c began to rise again, faltered, and then stood and resumed his position opposite a waiting Buffy. Suddenly, Bra’tac shouted, “Hold.” Buffy nodded and backed off, looking to Bra’tac for further instructions. Teal’c cocked his head to one side, “Have you seen enough, Master Bra’tac? Are you now prepared to travel through the chaapa’ai with Buffy to the Land of Light?” Bra’tac smiled appreciatively at the young girl in front of him. A Tau’ri warrior such as Buffy could play a key role in the Jaffa resistance, if only as a symbol of achievement, a sign of what a freed people could produce. Yes, Bra’tac decided, he would speak to Buffy about it someday, and perhaps she would journey with him to the Jaffa refugee camps on a mission of hope. “Indeed, I am, old friend. Indeed I am.” An hour later, Buffy trailed behind Daniel, Bra’tac, and his students into the gate room. As the man behind the computer terminal declared that chevron seven was locked, a mass of swirling liquid churned within the circle at the end of the platform and burst forth, twirling several yards into the room. Buffy was startled to say the least, but she clenched her teeth and kept her face a cool mask of serenity. Finally it receded, falling flat, placidly waiting for her to pass through. “Are you prepared, Buffy?” Bra’tac whispered, as they began ascending the metal ramp. “Can I touch it?” she asked, and Daniel answered, “Sure,” from up ahead, thinking that she was referring to the gelatinous event horizon. Buffy strode past him, her confident gait belying her inner turmoil. She turned her head and looked back at the two marines stationed near the wall on the opposite side of the gate, under the window. Without warning, she leapt from the ramp to the right side platform and laid her hand on the cold metal disk as if it were a touchstone. For a millisecond, she allowed herself to absorb strength from the solid ring. Then she hopped off the ramp and faster than Daniel had ever seen anyone move, Buffy ran through the sliding doors at the exit. She made it past a few people in the hallway, but just as the elevator doors closed behind her warning sirens flashed and General Hammond hollered over the loud speaker, “Buffy Summers is attempting another escape. This is not a drill. Seal the exits. Containment only - do not use deadly force. Repeat, do not shoot to kill.” Suddenly, the rapidly moving elevator groaned to a stand still. Buffy leapt up and wrapped her fingers around one side of the maintenance access in the ceiling and shoved its door out of the way. After pulling herself up on top of the elevator, she began climbing the ladder up the shaft. She had no idea which floor would lead her out, but instinct took over and she climbed and climbed until she thought her arms and legs would give out. Intuitively, she selected level 3, reached over and separated the elevator doors with one hand and swung herself into the hallway. Again she ran as hard as she could, shoving accountants and administrative personnel out of her way until she found a door ironically marked, ‘STAIRS’. Just as she extended her hand to test whether or not the door was locked, she heard someone behind her click open a zat, and shout, “Halt!” Buffy tilted her head back so that she was staring at the top of the door. For a moment she toyed with the idea of testing the speed of the weapon, but she had been shot by one already and it hurt like hell. Swearing under her breath, she pivoted and faced the panting man behind her. “Colonel O’Neill. Fancy meeting you here,” she quipped. Jack grinned, “Uh-huh. Step away from the door, Summers.” “Alright,” she agreed, “but I’m not going through that thing downstairs.” Jack smirked and waved her back toward the elevator with his zat. Thirty minutes later, Buffy found herself on the ramp again. “Hello painful, disfiguring death, nice to meet you,” she muttered, then she walked right into the gaping unknown. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Land of Light November 9 5PM Daniel never knew that someone trying their best to ignore him could be so damn sexy. Not that Buffy was giving him the silent treatment. Not at all. She was far too subtle for that. Instead, she would greet him when she saw him at breakfast, answer his questions efficiently, and fill the rest of her day pursuing the company of other people. She seemed to have a dizzying amount of conversation for everyone but him. Especially for Bra’tac’s Jaffa apprentices, who were equally enamored of her and seemed to be able to talk of nothing but the Slayer. The young men were enthralled by Daniel’s story of how she killed two Goa’uld-demon hybrids in one night, and begged for details every time they saw him. When Buffy was alone with him she was pensive, evasive, and during their week together she had taught him a great deal about her. For example, Buffy was as stubborn in her grudges as a Sicilian in the middle of a blood feud, and she was as much an expert in the art of emotional war as she was a consummate hand to hand fighter. Daniel had no ideal why this was so attractive and compelling. He’d never met anyone who was so resistant to his attempts at charm. He and the other members of SG1 had charmed people from the Abydonians to the Unas, but never before had he fought so hard to be liked. Hell, he thought, he was a likeable guy. Everybody liked him. Why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t Buffy stop trying to get back home? It amused and fascinated him, the way she tried to escape nearly every day. She hadn’t gone so far as to confront or attack anyone, but after her morning workout with Bra’tac and the boys, she took long walks over several miles for no apparent reason. Of course, she explained it away as a deep-seated need to patrol, but Daniel was dubious. From the perimeter of the village, through the dark forest to the gate, she traced several different paths, some more direct than others. And everyday, he followed. At the beginning, she could shake him fairly easily, but soon he came to know the woods almost as well as she did. On the first day, he was surprised to find her leaning against the DHD next to the gate and beside Dr. James Malvory of SG-7, chatting amiably, pretending Daniel hadn’t just followed her through almost ten miles of dark, dense foliage. It wasn’t until he came closer that he realized what she was doing. Dr. Malvory and his team were exiting P3X-797 after a survey of the temple, palace, and outbuildings. Dr. Malvory was obviously a little smitten with Buffy, as he didn’t realize that she was carefully watching him input the coordinates into the DHD. After the scientists trudged through the gate with their equipment, she turned to him and smirked. “You think that’s funny, don’t you?” Daniel asked provocatively. A small snort erupted from between Buffy’s lips and she turned them inward between her teeth to keep her laughter at bay. As soon as she regained control of herself, she shrugged and offered him her best innocent look. “I so don’t know what you’re talking about, Dr. Jackson. I was taking a walk. I got lost. I heard a loud noise, and now here I am.” “Mmm-hmm,” Daniel nodded. “While I’m sure that’s the absolute truth,” he drawled sarcastically, “you wouldn’t mind if we posted a couple of marines at the gate just to be on the safe side? And maybe since you’re patrolling, you wouldn’t mind if I walked back to the village with you, would you?” Buffy waited a beat, then suggested, “After you.” After a few minutes, Daniel reminded her, “You know, you won’t be able to make it safely through the gate at home without a GDO and a code. They’ll close the iris.” Buffy glanced at Daniel ironically. “Don’t delude yourself, Dr. Jackson. Giles’ promise that he’ll look after my mom and my friends is keeping me from leaving. Nothing else. When I’m ready to go home, I’ll do whatever’s required to make that happen.” For a moment, he was stunned by her ferocity. Finally, he asked, “Is it really so terrible here?” “It’s really so terrible there,” she stated firmly. “That’s why they call it the Mouth of Hell.” Looking back, he should have known; he should have realized the pressure she was under. They all should have known. But they allowed themselves to be distracted. At one point, Daniel had even gone so far as to ask Bra’tac, whom she seemed to greatly admire, if he would try and talk Buffy out of attempting to escape. But it didn’t do any good. She seemed to revel in the challenge of trying to avoid him during their walks and Daniel had to admit that he was enjoying himself as well, at least until this morning. In the wee hours of the morning of their ninth day together, he woke to Buffy screaming. It was the most mournful, desperate sound he’d ever heard and it propelled him from deep sleep to his feet in seconds. Still in his boxers and t-shirt, Daniel had raced toward her room. As soon as he opened his door, he saw Bra’tac approaching from down the hall. They reached her door almost simultaneously, but Daniel fisted the knob, turned it, and pushed the door inward. Buffy was in a miserable state, crumpled in a fetal position next to her bed, sobbing. Shocked and sorrowfully appalled at how apparently little they had done to take care of her psychologically, Daniel began to enter the room, but Bra’tac took his arm firmly and forced him back out into the hall. “Do not,” Bra’tac whispered into the cold night air. Then, nodding absently, he continued, “She has seen many horrible things and those things haunt her mind, yes, but she is strong. She is a great warrior, worthy of our respect. Do not shame her with coddling.” “I can’t just leave her there on the floor!” Daniel insisted under his breath, gesturing to her open door. Bra’tac nodded once more, this time in affirmation. “Very well, do as your conscience bids you.” A slow sadness filled the older man’s eyes and he swiftly turned away and walked back down the hall. But before he reached his door Bra’tac called softly over his shoulder, “She is not a child, Daniel Jackson. She has not been a child for a very long time. Do not expect her to thank you for your interference.” Daniel lifted his hand tiredly as if to say, ‘point taken’, then dropped it, and slowly crept back in to Buffy’s room. She was still on the floor, lying on her side with her face and body turned away from him. Daniel knelt down and shifted Buffy into his arms. Carefully, he stood, watching her face for signs of waking. But now she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, cradled close to him. She had a tiny, faint crease from her pillow running from her temple to her ear. Several freshly wept tears that had gathered in the corner of her right eye slid down her cheek, emphasizing the lines where other tears had already fallen. Daniel turned and sat down on the bed with her in his arms, but she didn’t move. He brushed her tangled hair back from her face with one hand and used the hand at her back to press Buffy more tightly against him. He chastised himself silently. He had never thought of her as anything other than indestructible. It never occurred to him that she might re-experience in her sleep the slaying she had done, the dances with death she survived every night. Daniel eased her backwards with him onto her pillows and stretched his legs out beneath her covers. She stirred briefly, her face nuzzling against his neck. For what seemed like an hour he held Buffy, her soft breath pulsing against his skin. Thinking of nothing, listening to nothing but the riveting off-beat pounding of their hearts, he comforted her. He forgot who he was and who she was and allowed himself to feel needed. Then wretched and cruel reality shoved him out of the gentle delusion he had wrapped around himself. She spoke, and her voice sliced through him like a knife from his throat to his gut. Softly, Buffy whispered two syllables strung together to form a single name, a question, and Daniel remembered that he was nothing to her, that he could never be anything to her. “Angel?” she hesitated drowsily, as if she knew better than to expect a response, even in sleep. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to wake her, but he felt that he should answer. By some base weakness of his own Daniel was forced, compelled to give her everything she required to feel safe, so he denied his name and muttered against her cheek. “Yes,” he whispered. Daniel waited. Terrified that she would wake and see that he was not the man she sought, he held his breath. Then, she stirred again and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I love you,” she sighed, and in that moment he knew without a doubt that Buffy spoke the truth for both of them. Previous Chapter Fire and Water...Menu Next Chapter
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