by AntigoneUnbound » Thu Aug 21, 2003 10:41 am
GODS SERVED AND ABANDONED
Part 43
(Shuyaku, there’s a little nod your way in here.)
Disclaimer: Willow and Tara? No, I don’t own ’em. Have you talked to that has-been Joss Whedon? Yeah, the one whose series have all tanked.
*****
“So we’re going to an honest-to-God Scooby meeting? Words fail me, and I’m an English teacher.” Beverly was gingerly applying another ice-pack to the purplish bruise that presently occupied approximately 60% of the left side of her face.
“And I don’t have a thing to wear,” added Tanya. “Left my chiffon in Dallas.”
Beverly, despite the strenuous objections of three very forceful women, had insisted on being up and about the next day.
“Can’t sleep my life away,” she said matter-of-factly. “Especially when there’s ever so much going on in the world today.” So Tanya had loaded Bev, her ice packs, and several bottles of pain killers into the rental car and driven to campus.
Shortly after their arrival, Giles had phoned to update them about the pint-sized apostle they had captured while in Glory’s penthouse.
“The little wretch keeps insisting ‘the great Glorificus’ is on her way to save him and if we know what’s good for us, we’ll release him immediately.”
“And since when have we known what’s good for us, much less done it?” Willow mused.
“Yes, well, everyone was quite shaken after yesterday’s adventure, so we made an early evening of it. We plan to resume questioning today.”
“Where did he sleep?” Willow asked, thinking Giles had perhaps kept the creature tied to a chair all night.
“Oh, I bundled him up nice and snug and plopped him in the tub,” Giles replied.
“Isn’t that where Spike slept last year?” she queried.
“Yes, I’m thinking of opening up a little bed and breakfast in my bathroom. Anya seems to like the tile.”
“Well, I’d like to be in on the interrogation, and I suspect Tara would as well. She was pretty upset by what happened to Beverly.”
“I should imagine,” Giles murmured. “Yes, by all means come over. I’ve already spoken to the others, including Xander and Anya, and they’ll be here shortly after five. Until then, I’m gagging Mister ‘Glory will avenge my mistreatment’ so that I can continue my research in relative quiet.”
As soon as Willow hung up the phone and summarized the conversation, Beverly invited herself to the gathering. Tanya’s reaction to this, while lacking subtlety, was certainly compelling.
“Like hell you will,” she exploded. “Honey, less than twenty-four hours ago, you were being held hostage by a Hell God. Couldn’t we just take one day and go to the zoo; maybe check out the boutiques?”
“As if you need more shoes,” Beverly retorted. “Tanya, c’mon—this is big stuff. I wanna hear what the little shit has to say.” Tanya had finally relented, but only after Beverly had agreed to take a brief nap before they left. The four had fallen into an easy conversation, tacitly agreeing to a respite from the horrors at hand. After about half an hour, Beverly had curled up on Tara’s bed and fallen promptly asleep.
“So bring me up to speed on this cast of characters,” Tanya sighed, resting her hand protectively on Beverly’s leg. “I don’t want to be remiss in my historical context.”
“Um, OK,” Willow began uncertainly. “Well, Buffy’s the Slayer; Dawn’s her sister; Giles is Buffy’s Watcher. Giles hasn’t dated anybody seriously since Miss Calendar was killed by Buffy’s boyfriend Angel, who’s usually a good vampire but turned bad after deflowering Buffy. Giles did have sex with Buffy’s mom on the top of a police cruiser, but that was because they’d eaten this band candy that turned all the adults into adolescents. Even though that was supernatural, we’re pretty sure he loved Mrs. Summers for real; he hasn’t totally been himself since she died. Let’s see…Anya is an ex-vengeance demon who lost her powers after inadvertently summoning my doppelganger from an alternate universe, who was actually a vampire—all evil and skanky.”
“And kinda gay,” Tara added.
“And kinda gay—right. Anyway, she and Xander have been together for a couple of years. I’ve known Xander since we started kindergarten together.”
“She had a raging crush on him for about ten years,” Tara added, with a not-so-slight roll of her eyes.
“Well, yeah,” Willow admitted reluctantly. “But once we actually did something about it, it sorta killed the magic of the fantasy; and besides, I really did love Oz and I wanted to be with him. So Oz forgave me, although Cordelia--she was this five-alarm diva who somehow ended up in our little cadre--never forgave Xander. Of course, Oz pretty much forfeited all claims to righteous indignation when I caught him with Veruca, who was another werewolf, not to mention a total ho-puppy. Anyway, getting back to Xander…he doesn’t have any particular powers, but he tends to forget that. He’s loyal, though, and he’s brave, especially considering he’s about the most limited of all of us in pretty much every way.” With that pronouncement, Willow finally came up for air.
Tanya was looking at her, Willow suspected, much as she might a particularly interesting but as yet unclassified life form.
“You realize,” she finally smiled, “that all of you will need major psychiatric intervention by the time you’re thirty.”
“Oh, of course,” Willow nodded. Turning to Tara, she said, “Remind me to make sure that my first job has good mental health benefits. Yours too,” she added, “although I think I’m wound up a little tighter than you.”
Beverly awoke at four-thirty, splashed some water on her face, and led the contingent out to the car.
“Scooby-Dooby-Do, where are you? We got some work to do now,” she crooned.
“Baby, I love you,” Tanya said warmly, walking out into the late afternoon sun. “But you need to end that travesty right now before mothers start pulling children back into the safety of their houses.”
*****
As they neared Giles’ door, Beverly nudged Willow. “Twenty bucks says Anya can’t shock my girl speechless.”
“You’re on,” Willow whispered.
Buffy and Dawn were already there; barely five minutes later, Xander and Anya ambled through the door, not bothering to knock.
“Oh my God, Xander, it’s a Black person,” Anya cried, clearly delighted with this new element. Beside her, Xander turned not black but rather a vibrant shade of crimson.
“Yes, but I’m not out to my family, so I’d appreciate you keeping quiet about it,” came the easy reply. “I’m Tanya, Beverly’s partner.” Across the room, Willow discreetly slid a bill into Beverly’s outstretched hand.
“Humor—a staple of human social interaction,” Anya nodded. “Xander keeps trying to teach me about it, but he’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is.”
Tanya grinned. “Well, don’t be too hard on him. I think it was Mark Twain—or maybe e. e. cummings—who said that analyzing humor was like dissecting a frog: you can do it, but the frog tends to die in the process.”
Watching all of this, Willow suspected that Tanya had taken an immense liking to the ex-demon. She was also friendly with Xander, and the exchanges between Tanya, Dawn, and Buffy were far less strained than they had been the day before.
Nothin’ like surviving mortal danger to bring people closer, Willow mused.
Dawn edged slowly up to Beverly, who winked at her and draped an arm over her shoulders.
“How are you?” Dawn asked, her voice small.
“I look worse than I feel,” Beverly replied easily, but Willow was certain this wasn’t true. “I figure that as long as I don’t run into any more alleys on ill-advised good Samaritan urges, I’ll be fine.”
“Wait a minute,” Buffy broke in. “You’re saying you meant to be there? You ran in of your own free will? God, if you were watching that in a movie, you’d be screaming at the hero, ‘Don’t go in there!’”
“Yeah,” Beverly said sheepishly. “I’ve been getting a lot of that.”
“I think it took courage,” Dawn said, and Willow wondered if perhaps the Key had a thing for both of the Maclay women.
“Oh God, don’t encourage her,” Tanya protested, but she was grinning at Dawn as she said this.
“So can we see the little sack-cloth suck-up?” Beverly finally asked. Her voice was casual…studiously so, Willow thought.
“Yes, of course,” Giles replied. He stepped out of the room, returning moments later with a very short man—to use the term loosely—garbed in a long, tattered robe. His nose was hooked to the point of deformity; one could easily lose sight of that, however, in view of his truly horrific skin condition. His hands were tied behind him, and a gag rendered his stream of invectives unintelligible. Giles plunked him unceremoniously into a desk chair, then loosened the gag.
“—and so I warn you: release me or suffer devastation beyond your worst nightmares.”
“Listen, Little Lord Clearasil,” Buffy interjected, her tone unimpressed, “I’ve battled a vampire Master, a Mayor who turned into a giant lizard, and truly agonizing menstrual cramps. You’re gonna have to do better than that.” She walked slowly over to the chair and towered over him. “Now let’s start with the basics: what’s your name?”
The little minion squared his jaw and intoned, “I come from a long and venerable line of servants to the great Glorificus. My father served her, as did his father before him. My lineage boasts no peer.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Xander nodded impatiently. “And at socials in Hell, your name tag says, ‘Hello, my name is…’?”
“Binky.”
Profound silence fell over the group as they considered this. After a moment, Buffy asked incredulously, “Your name is Binky? What did dear old Dad answer to—‘Poppy’?”
Their captive looked up at her defiantly. “And you’re going to avert an apocalypse with a name like ‘Buffy’? Glass houses, Slayer; glass houses.”
“Wonderful,” Giles sighed. “We have with us tonight Buffy, Binky, Anya, and Tanya. Filming for ‘The Tele-Tubbies Battle a Hell-God’ will commence post-haste.”
“You cannot make me speak, misguided as you are. Your reputation precedes you, Slayer—you do not inflict pain on those who cannot fight back.” The smirk on his face made Willow want to skip negotiation and go straight to whup-ass.
“And do you know my reputation, little man?” Tanya’s voice was far too calm to bode well.
“You were with the others yesterday. We haven’t been properly introduced.” Still the infuriating sneer.
“Oh—well, my name would be Tanya, and I would be someone who hasn’t yet settled on a moral code. I’m considering all my options, of course, but presently I’m leaning toward vigilantism. I tend to favor sharp objects, and I will slice you once for every time you stall.” The smile never left her face.
“Tanya, Sweetie—we still haven’t settled that assault charge back in Dallas,” Beverly cautioned. “Of course, what with that guy not having a tongue or fingers anymore, testimony might be a problem.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” The smirk was gone, replacing by faltering bravado. “Slayer, this isn’t how you do things. You wouldn’t let her.”
“You’re right,” Buffy sighed. “I gotta intervene….Tanya, you shouldn’t.”
“But I want to.”
“OK.” Turning back to the trembling creature before her, Buffy shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”
“What’s wrong with you people? What about taking the higher ground?”
“We realized we’re all afraid of heights,” Xander replied, as the others nodded. Tanya took another step toward the shirking figure in the chair.
“Stop! I’ll—I’ll tell you whatever you want. Just don’t let her near me.” The voice held none of its earlier defiance.
As Tanya stepped back and slid her arm over Bev’s shoulders, Willow heard the Protector murmur, “Nice Foxy Brown impersonation, Babe. Very large with the butch.”
“So…Binky,” Giles began. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about Glory.”
“Starting with the ritual.” Dawn’s voice was flat.
Binky looked side-long at her. “The Slayer’s sister…Aren’t you a little young to be witnessing such evil goings-on?”
“Aren’t you a little tied up and scabby to be taunting other people?” came the quick retort.
Well, go Dawnie!
“I wanna know about the ritual, and how the Key figures into things,” Dawn said. “She only has this one chance, right? One chance to use the Key.”
“That is correct,” Binky replied sullenly.
“And if she doesn’t find the Key before the clock strikes midnight, Cinderella gets kicked out of the ball, never to return,” Dawn continued. “Is that correct too?”
“Yes,” the minion said through gritted teeth, or whatever filled his mouth. “But this is all heresy, and you will pay for your sacrilege.” At Tanya’s first step toward him, he shrank back in his bonds.
“See how intimidating I am?” she murmured to her partner.
“Yes, dear, you’re frightening the wretched little inter-dimensional toady just right to bits,” Beverly replied dutifully.
“OK, so if the window of opportunity passes, what exactly happens to Glory?” Giles asked.
“In that case, the great Glorificus would lose all power. She might still have consciousness, but she could not take form, and she would have no hope of regaining her rightful throne.” Willow could see that Binky was practically choking on the words.
“And what happens to the Key and the Protectors if Glory’s stopped?” Dawn’s voice held no trace of fear, but Willow knew that they had all asked themselves that very question at one time or another.
Binky only stared at the ground. Tanya took another step toward him, and this time Willow knew that there was no bluff involved.
“Answer that question right now, little man,” she said, her voice practically a hiss.
Finally, Glory’s sycophant met her gaze. “In the astoundingly unlikely event that Glory does not find the Key, and the moment of her triumph passes…the Key and any surviving Protectors will go on with whatever pitiful lives they have created.”
Beverly, clearly not one for restraint, whooped her joy, enduring the resulting pain with a grin. Tanya just sank back against her, resting her head lightly against Bev’s shoulder.
Willow looked at Tara, trying to imagine themselves in such a scenario: knowing that Tara could very likely be killed by the force she was created to stop, yet uncertain that she would live on if the threat were extinguished. The very thought was painful.
Dawn, of course, didn’t have the luxury of showing her relief. Instead, she simply crossed her arms and nodded. Buffy, currently standing behind the minion’s chair, allowed herself a huge grin as she looked at Dawn and quickly wiped her eyes.
“OK, Binky, let’s move on to Round Two,” Willow said, feeling an uncharacteristic swagger in her soul at the recent news. “What was Glory doing in Ben’s apartment?”
“More to the point, what was she doing in his body?” Beverly amended. A chorus of voices greeted this question, all of which were delivered in the key of disbelief.
“Wait a minute,” Tara said, holding up both hands in an attempt to quiet the group. “Aunt Bev, we called Ben when we remembered your reaction to him. He stalled Buffy about getting together, at least at his place, so Willow hacked into the hospital files and got his address. When we went there, we heard yelling and crashing inside so we basically busted down the door. We saw you and a bunch of these guys; no sign of Glory or Ben.”
“That’s because Glory morphed into Ben, who then basically wrung his hands a lot and finally apologized before leaving the scene.” Bev explained this patiently, as if unsure of her audience’s mental capacity.
“You actually saw him take over her body?” Xander’s voice held more than a touch of doubt.
“I didn’t really see Glory that much because she hovered at the back of the room the whole time she was there. Remember, I have this weird repulsion thing where she’s concerned. Anyway, she’d been slapping me around in various ways for a little bit, but I never lost consciousness. All of a sudden, I hear a phone ring and then her voice gets all wonky—”
“Could you perhaps clarify your adjectives?” Giles asked tactfully.
“Wonky—as in, possessed of a distinct element of the unusual or the bizarre,” she replied, casting a bemused glance at the Watcher.
“Ah, yes…wonky.”
“Anyway, after a few seconds I don’t hear her voice anymore; I just hear this scuffle at the back of the room and the next thing I know, I hear Ben’s voice. It took me a minute to place it, but it was him. He starts walking toward me and at first I thought he’d come in through some other door and I hadn’t heard him but then I get a look at him and I see he’s wearing Glory’s dress.”
“Ben was wearing Glory’s clothes? OK, so maybe he’s a transvestite, but what does that have to do with Glory?” Buffy’s brow was furrowed in confusion.
“I didn’t say he was wearing a dress,” Beverly explained, frowning. “I said he was wearing her dress; as in, the one she had been wearing not five minutes before. If I remember correctly, it was a lovely little Vera Wang number.”
“So Glory steps out of the room and Ben takes that opportunity to borrow her clothes? How fortunate for him that they fit so well,” Giles nodded slowly.
Beverly finally gave vent to her exasperation. “No, my beloved vegetables…He didn’t borrow her clothes; he didn’t sneak in while she was gone; he is Glory, or at least they share a body. I know it’s an elusive concept, but I thought you could all stretch that far.”
Behind her, Binky was chuckling.
“What’s with the inappropriate laughter, Spanky?” Xander demanded.
“Binky.”
“Whatever. What’s so funny?”
“You. You can’t see the truth because the great Glorificus has ensured that you can’t. Just one of the many glimpses of her most blinding omnipotence.”
“Except that Our Lady of Skank’s little illusion doesn’t work on me,” Beverly interjected. “Why?”
The minion turned sullen. “I do not know. You have some heretical ability to withstand at least some measure of Glory’s power.”
“Fine; OK,” Beverly sighed. Turning to Giles, she asked, “Hey Watcher Man—you keep any note cards around here?” As he nodded toward the desk, she said, “This should just take a minute.” The group watched as she pulled out several index cards and scribbled hastily across them. Then she stood, pulled an equal number of paperclips from a holder on the desk, and walked up to each of them, fastening a card to their shirt sleeves. “Honestly,” she muttered, “do I have to do everything around here?”
Willow, who had watched all of this unfold with an unfamiliar—and quite terrifying—sense that she was just a bit slow on the uptake, looked down at the card affixed to her sleeve: GLORY IS BEN AND CONVERSELY. BELIEVE NOW, GRASP LATER.
Huh. Never saw that one coming.
“OK,” she said aloud. “So Ben and Glory share the same body. Does that mean Ben’s a god as well?” She desperately hoped not.
“Well, to hear that tramp Janza talk, you’d think so,” Binky sniffed. “Jinx, too, come to think of it…But no, he’s not a god. Ben is the mortal that Glory was damned to be confined to. She must share his physical being.”
“So then,” Giles murmured, peering at his index card like a child who had just been placed in one of the slower reading groups, “Glory is basically a captive to Ben.”
“Glory is captive to no one,” the outraged minion spluttered, “and certainly not a mortal. Ben should be grateful for his wondrous fortune…to be so close to Glorificus; to share so intimately her body and soul.”
Willow arched one eyebrow. “Seems like somebody’s got a crush on a Hell God,” she commented. Beside her, Tara stirred uncomfortably.
“If he starts getting…excited, will you poke my eyes out? You know I can’t handle that stuff.”
“Don’t worry, Baby—he’s got a robe on; I don’t think we’d know.”
“So who’s the majority stock-holder?” Anya asked. “Who makes the decisions about the long distance company?”
Binky’s uncomfortable silence gave them their answer.
“And do each of them know about the other?” Tara asked.
“Yes, and far from being proud of his role, Ben wishes to separate himself from Glory; ‘free’ himself, to use his words, and live out his life as one mortal helping others.”
“Through his medical career,” Buffy mused.
“What happens if Ben dies?”
Silence fell over the group. No one seemed able to look at Giles, who had put forth the query in an even, controlled voice.
“The man asked you a question,” Tanya said, glaring at the creature in the chair who was struggling to avoid meeting her gaze. “If Ben dies, does Glory die, too?”
The quavering little minion looked aghast. “You…you cannot mean to say that you would kill a mortal, an innocent.”
Giles answered steadily, “We like to know all potential courses of action. Killing Ben would not be our first choice, but weighed against the lives of untold billions of other beings, in other dimensions…We would be remiss not to think of it.”
“I gotta say, Binky, I’m not crazy about the idea, but Giles is right.” Beverly’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Besides, that whole ‘innocent’ thing is a little suspect: Ben had a chance to help me, to talk to us about all of this, and he chose Door Number Two, which for purposes of edification I’m labeling ‘Chicken-Shit.’”
“Wait—Ben’s involved with Glory?” Xander’s voice was incredulous.
Without a glance in his direction, Giles grabbed Xander’s arm and hoisted it in front of his eyes. “So while we’d prefer to spare Ben, we are prepared to sacrifice him to save everyone else from Glory’s destruction,” the Watcher concluded evenly.
“And screw his medical career,” Tanya interjected suddenly. “If the man really wanted to be a man, he’d sacrifice himself.” As the others turned to look at her in surprise, she continued insistently, “I mean it. If you knew that inside of you there was someone else who had the power and the distinct inclination to bring suffering and death to every living creature, and that the only sure way to stop her was to end your own life, wouldn’t you do it? You’ve all risked your lives goddess only knows how many times; I don’t believe for a minute that you’d risk everyone else’s.”
An oppressive silence, thick and heavy, fell over the room.
Would I? Would I have the courage to end my own life if I knew it was the only sure way to avoid a literal hell on earth for everyone else? Her heart squeezed with pain.
Could I willingly leave Tara?
She looked at her beloved, who was gazing back at her. Willow suspected she was pondering the same question.
You would if you knew it was the best way to save her, came the sudden, sure answer.
After a long silence, Binky apparently decided that he was feeling brave again. “You sit here, making your doomed plans. But when Glory comes for me, you will know the full scope of her wrath.”
Giles gazed at him, a faint half-smile creasing his face. “An interesting point, that. Let’s review the night’s events, shall we? You put up a bit of token resistance, only to crack like the frailest of eggs at the mere suggestion of pain. You then proceed to divulge all sorts of fascinating information regarding Glory, her connection to Ben, her very existence…information which we will most assuredly use in planning our attack. All of which begs the question, then: Do you really want Glory to find you?”
It seemed to Willow that Binky had grown distinctly less homesick as he listened. Giles reached for the phone. “Let’s just call her up right now and ask her to come and get you, shall we?”
Binky, hardly tan under the most generous of lighting, paled visibly. “Well, of course, Glory could never doubt the sincerity, the unwavering strength of my loyalty. It might, though, be best if I were to submit to captivity for just a bit longer…to gather useful intelligence that I could present to the great god.”
“Wait a minute,” Tara interrupted, looking askance at the creature before her. “Now you’re saying you want to hang out with us? Limited mortals such as ourselves?”
“Well,” Binky fumbled, his voice quivering, “I have heard Glory speak highly of your culture’s Buffalo wings.”
“We’ll be sure to order some without delay,” Giles replied dryly.
“Let’s reinstate the gag order, drag this guy back to the bathroom, and map out some strategy,” Xander suggested.
“I agree,” Buffy nodded. As Giles moved toward him, Binky piped up, “Might I request a new gag? The old one is rather…distasteful.”
“Oh, but that would diminish the suffering you’re enduring for the great Glorificus,” Giles said cheerfully. “Can’t compromise the martyrdom.”
As the minion was taken from the chair and hauled back to the bathroom, his garbled protests echoing down the hall, Willow looked back at Tara. This time, though, her partner was looking at someone else. Following her worried gaze, Willow saw it fall on Dawn, who no longer seemed even slightly relieved. If anything, she appeared more troubled.
What’s going on in that head?
*****
|To Be Continued
Edited by: [url=http://pub106.ezboard.com/bthekittenthewitchesandthebadwardrobe36671.showUserPublicProfile?gAntigoneUnbound[/url] at: 8/21/03 1:15 pm
.
at: 8/19/03 9:45 am
at: 8/21/03 9:12 pm
So more tomorrow...
shuyaku
) I really loved the rest of their QT...and so I, like the other fabulous kittens,wait with anticipation at the further demonstrations of your genius and supply you with a reiteration of what I've said before: you're...
good.