by AntigoneUnbound » Tue Sep 09, 2003 2:13 pm
GODS SERVED AND ABANDONED
PART 46
Disclaimer: THINGS I OWN: ’93 Saturn Coupe; 6 cats; 2 ball gloves; a sense of what’s important. THINGS I DON’T OWN: Willow and Tara; a failed TV pilot; the inclination to overestimate my own creative genius.
*****
In Tara’s opinion, the 15-minute drive to the Magic Box was fourteen and a half minutes too long.
“Do you think the others have figured it out?” Willow asked, her brow furrowed anxiously.
“From what I’ve seen, I’d vote ‘yes’ on Giles, ‘maybe’ on Buffy, and ‘no’ for the others,” Tanya replied, gripping Beverly’s hand on the gear shift. “And if Giles did figure it out, he couldn’t tell you because none of you hip southern California kids have cell phones. Blows my mind.”
Tara didn’t reply; she had thought it somewhat odd herself, on more than one occasion, but had been reluctant to make an issue of it.
“Are we completely sure this is it?” Beverly asked, catching Tara’s eye in the rearview mirror.
“I think so,” she answered, silently willing her aunt to disregard all but the most important traffic laws. “I don’t see how it can’t be. The day opened with rain--tears without sorrow--and it’s supposed to rain all day. That alone is so unusual in this region that it’s suspicious.”
“I should have figured it out sooner,” Willow said angrily. “I mean, I wake up, it’s raining, I comment on the rain…and then I skip off to class like Cousin Marti, cheerfully working at the Kwik-Serve after barely graduating high school.”
“You have a Cousin Marti?” Tara asked softly.
“We don’t talk about her much,” Willow muttered out of the side of her mouth.
Moments later, the four of them tumbled out of the rental sedan and pounded on the door of the Magic Box. A large “Closed” sign was hanging crookedly in the window.
“What if he’s not here?” Willow asked, looking worriedly at Tara. Within seconds, though, they heard footsteps from within and then Giles had opened the door and stood aside to let them in. A quick glance at his face told Tara that the Watcher had also solved the first part of the prophecy.
“I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner,” he muttered, ushering them back to the library section of the store.
“Yeah, let’s all spend lots of time beating ourselves up about that,” Tanya interjected. “That always leads to good things.”
“Point taken,” he nodded, giving her a reluctant smile.
“When did you figure it out?” Tara asked, shrugging out of her jacket.
“Early this morning, after the second customer had remarked on the weather, right on the heels of the first customer having done so.” He shook his head. “I suppose I’m still in something of an English mentality where weather is concerned--rain hardly shocks me. But then I realized that it should do so, especially rain of this kind and of this duration.”
“Have you talked to Buffy?” Willow asked, taking a seat beside Tara and reaching for her hand.
“The man doesn’t have me on speed dial for nothing,” came the reply from behind them. Buffy was standing in the doorway to the training room; her right hand clutching a sword, her left resting on Dawn’s shoulder.
She doesn’t know whether to attack or defend.
“Hey Dawnie,” Tara called softly. “How you doing?”
Dawn’s smile carried not a speck of humor. “You know that feeling you get before the biggest, scariest things you have to do? Where you’re terrified of what could happen, but you also know that it’s almost over and you won’t have to worry about it anymore? Multiply that times about ten.”
Tara thought that the teenager looked almost nauseous. Instinctively, she held out her hand. Dawn stepped forward and took it quickly, looking at Tara with a fierce, quiet desperation.
“We’ll keep you safe,” Tara said simply.
Whereas Dawn looked terrified, Buffy looked as though she wanted to rip the store apart just to keep from exploding.
“So what happened?” Willow asked her best friend.
“Giles called me at about 9:15. As soon as we hung up, I went to school and picked up Dawn.”
“Uh, Buffy,” Willow interrupted with obvious hesitation. “Do you think that was the best thing to do? I mean, I totally get wanting to have her near you; I just wonder if it’s good to--you know…have her near you.”
Tara almost expected Buffy to lash out at Willow for asking; thankfully, though, the Slayer had apparently struggled with the question as well.
“I know,” she replied slowly, moving into the room to take a seat next to Dawn. “Part of thought I should keep her at school, as if nothing’s out of the ordinary, although the day would’ve passed even slower than it already has. But then I was afraid that Glory would be desperate and might kidnap her or something to try to force us to tell her who the Key is.”
“Irony of ironies,” Beverly commented, grinning at Dawn, who managed a slightly more credible smile in return.
“In the end, I decided to pick her up and come here. We’ve been hiding out ever since, basically trying to convince Time to pick up the pace a little.” Buffy reached out and smoothed Dawn’s long brown hair over her shoulder.
“Do Xander and Anya know?” Willow asked.
“No, not yet,” Giles replied, taking a slow sip of his tea. “We actually decided to use the phone as little as possible, although I honestly don’t see Glory being patient enough to master the intricacies of phone tapping.”
“What about Binky?” Tara asked suddenly. “Does he know anything?”
“No, he isn’t aware of this,” Giles quickly assured her. “He’s still in my bathroom, securely tied with only enough flexibility to graze on a waffle, smothered with syrup and eaten with his fingers. Honestly, the little wretch made the most appalling noises…”
“And there’s been no sign of Glory?” Beverly asked.
“Nothing,” Giles shook his head. “I closed the store, because I thought it might throw her off if she thought we weren’t around. So far, it’s been just the three of us and now you.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Dawn murmured, looking at Tara. “Makes me feel safer.”
“Even though I’m not much in the fight department?” Tara asked with a small grin.
“We’ll let Buffy take care of the butch stuff,” Dawn replied, nodding at her sister. “You’re in charge of the more subtle things.”
“As frightening as all of this is,” Giles was saying, “I really do think we’re in a very good position. It’s almost four o’clock, and Glory is no closer to the Key’s identity than she was two weeks ago.”
“OK, so do we have any ideas about when the window of opportunity closes?” Beverly asked, glancing around the room.
“We now know that the day of the ritual will start with rain and end with rain. From what I surmised, Glory can conduct the ritual during any part of this day, until love’s eye looks upon her.”
“We still don’t know what ‘love’s eye’ refers to, though,” Willow said in frustration.
“But all we have to do is keep her away from the Key for the rest of the day, right?” Tanya asked.
“I dunno…That’s way too vague for me,” Buffy replied, shaking her head. “I wanna know what the second part means, so when I finally exhale, I’m not looking over my shoulder.”
“I agree,” Giles murmured. “The more precisely we can ascertain the ritual’s closing, the more confident we can be in our plans.” He waved loosely at the pile of old books scattered about the room. “I’ve been researching all day, but to no avail.”
“Well, we were all thinking in terms of emotional metaphors before,” Tara pointed out, “and it turns out we were way off base there. I think we need to be very careful about our assumptions this time.”
“Indeed,” Giles nodded. “Love, and love’s eye, may have nothing at all to do with the emotion of love.”
“Above all,” Buffy interjected, “we keep the Key as far away from Glory as possible. That’s our main objective, right?”
The nods of assent that greeted this assertion were cut short by a harsh clanging as the shop door was slammed back against the wall.
“OK, I am sick of this!” Glory’s voice was equal parts fury and petulance.
For Tara, the next ten minutes passed in a second, even as a part of her watched events unfold in slow motion from a great distance.
“I’ve tried bargaining; I’ve tried cajoling; I’ve tried everything except a wrist corsage and candy,” the hell god continued. “But patience has never been one of my virtues--heck, I don’t even know what my virtues are--and we need to get this show on the road.”
“You mean, your time’s running out, don’t you?” Beverly asked, stepping forward.
Glory recoiled almost instinctively. “You…God, I’ve had enough of you to last a lifetime, which, considering I’m a god, is really saying something.” Her voice was thick with loathing.
“Now that hurts, Glo,” Beverly said, shaking her head. “I thought we were really connecting, there at the end. I mean, the brutalization definitely brought up some trust issues, but I think we could’ve worked through those.”
“Get out of my way,” Glory practically hissed, although Tara noticed that she maintained a healthy distance from the Protector.
“What are you even doing here, Glo?” Beverly asked. “Shouldn’t you be out canvassing the city? If I’m not mistaken, there is something of a time crunch here.” And then, with seemingly utter nonchalance, she began to whistle the theme song from ‘Jeopardy.’
Glory’s eyes narrowed to slits. “How do you know about that?”
Giles stepped forward, though he remained behind Beverly. “We mortals aren’t quite as provincial as you think we are,” he murmured. “We’ve been tying our own shoelaces for centuries now.”
Glory clenched her fists in impotent rage. She glanced around desperately, as if trying to figure out a way to get past Beverly. She was accompanied by six of her minions, but it was clear that she had little faith in their fighting ability.
“Give me my Key,” she shouted, grabbing a flask from one of the shelves and hurling it against the far wall. The smell of lavender filled the room.
“That’s a really nice scent, Giles,” Beverly commented, turning to the Watcher with a nod. “Remind me to buy some of that before we head home.”
“Consider it my treat,” he replied, giving a courtly half-bow.
“Give me my Key or I bring this whole place down on top of you.” Another bottle crashed onto the floor.
“First of all, I really must insist on some recompense for this mess,” Giles said evenly. “In the words of American consumerism, ‘You break it, you bought it.’ And with regard to your threat, my dear woman, that’s simply not a compelling argument. If you do locate and use the Key, we all die anyway. It’s very much six of one, a half-dozen of another, don’t you think?”
Glory pulled herself up short from her ranting, and turned to look at them. Her gaze lingered on each person in turn, and when she spoke, her voice was practically a purr. “But it doesn’t have to be like that,” she murmured. “If you help me get home, I could make sure that all of you live happily ever after. I refer you to my earlier comment regarding eternal life,” she added.
“Is that true?” Tara started at the sound of Dawn’s voice beside her. “If we give you the Key, you’ll keep--you’ll keep us safe?”
“Dawn, no!” Buffy almost shouted. “Don’t believe it, not for an instant.”
“But of course I’ll keep my promise,” Glory insisted, looking wounded at the slight. “It’s such a small price to pay for such a huge favor.”
Tara watched in desperation. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she suspected she wouldn’t be able to hear Dawn say, “It’s me.” She fully expected Buffy to clap her hand over Dawn’s mouth.
The Slayer obliged her by doing so. “Dawn, I can’t let you sacrifice an innocent,” Buffy hissed. “Especially not for a promise that this bimbo will never keep.” Dawn struggled against Buffy’s restraint, but clearly had no chance of succeeding.
“Oh, well…guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way,” Glory said airily, and Tara thought she saw the Hell god glance toward the back of the room.
Following her gaze, Tara turned to see a short, robed figure standing in the doorway of the training room. He had gained entrance through the back door, and now looked at his master adoringly.
“For you, Glorificus,” he said softly, and then raised his cross-bow and fired.
Tara had instinctively leaned forward to shield Willow, but her beloved was not the target. She heard the bolt whiz past her, and looked up to see her aunt staring wide-eyed at Tanya.
“I’m sorry, Baby,” she whispered.
Tara knew that Tanya had screamed; she had seen her open her mouth as she dropped to her knees to pull Beverly close to her. But Tara hadn’t heard a sound; all noise had ceased, just for a moment, as she took in the sight of her aunt lying crumpled and bleeding on the Magic Box floor.
And then chaos erupted, as Glory threw back her head and laughed with delight.
“Oh my Hell God, I feel like a brand new woman!” she cried, clapping her hands. She strode toward the group, gathered around the table in a tight knot except for Tanya, who was desperately trying to stem the flow of blood pouring from Beverly’s wound.
Fury…it was fury that she was feeling, and she had never felt the likes of it before.
“Incendiere,” she cried, only dimly aware that she was saying the word.
But Glory wasn’t even singed by the orb of flame that Tara had hurled at her. Smiling, she deflected it with a flick of her wrist. “Ooh--look who’s gone all vigilante!” she laughed.
When Beverly had been shot, Buffy had released Dawn and now stood in front of her. Tara watched as Dawn tore her eyes from Beverly’s inert figure, looking back at Glory with hatred in her eyes.
“You bitch,” she cried, taking a step toward Glory. “You want your Key, come and get it!”
“Dawn, no!” Willow shouted in desperation.
“Out of my way, little girl,” Glory said dismissively. With the barest nod of her head, she sent Dawn flying up against a counter. Tara heard the glass crack under her weight.
“OK, Slayer--let’s cut to the chase. One more time: where’s my Key?”
Tara’s mouth had gone dry; even if she had known what to say, she couldn’t have said it. Buffy stood dumbly in front of Glory, then glanced toward the door leading into the training room.
“Think you can outrun me, Blondie? I'll be standing in front of you before you’re half-way there.”
“Oh most magnificent One,” cried the minion who had shot Beverly.
“You’ll get your reward later,” she cut him off, barely sparing him a glance.
“But you must look--”
“Not now, you greedy little skank!”
“Glorificus, the sister!” he finally shouted. “Look upon her!”
Glory paused, just the barest moment, and then turned slowly to see what everyone else had already seen: Dawn was cut, badly, and her blood was spilling out onto the counter. As it pooled, a bright crimson, a faint glow began to emanate from it, hovering slightly above the counter. As they watched, it shimmered and turned from red to a deep, cobalt blue; and then it changed, once more, into a glittering, emerald green.
Dawn’s eyes were wide with terror. Tara thought that her own heart would surely crack open with her dread.
“My, oh my, oh my,” Glory whispered. “Little sister’s not as old as she looks, is she?”
With a harsh cry, Buffy launched herself at Glory, who threw her off with seeming ease. “Protect her!” the Slayer called out, but the others had already rushed toward Dawn.
“No!” Glory shouted. “It ends here!” With the barest wave of her hand, they all went flying away from Dawn, crashing into the walls.
Tara’s head was ringing; she could barely make out Glory seizing Dawn by the wrist and pulling her toward the door. She watched as Buffy hurled herself once more at the Hell god, who if anything seemed amused by her efforts.
“Nice try, Slayer,” she laughed, gripping Buffy by the throat and lifting her off of the ground. She smiled sweetly.
“Dawnie won’t be home for dinner.” And then she threw the Slayer against the wall and was gone.
*****
TO BE CONTINUED
I've taken my pills and I'm all better now
say it ain't so 
.
make the world go round 