by AntigoneUnbound » Fri Aug 15, 2003 2:53 pm
GODS SERVED AND ABANDONED
Disclaimer: I’m making so much money off of this endeavor that I just bought Rhode Island. Or maybe not, since I don’t own these folks, except for Beverly and Tanya, who are exceedingly not happy with me right now.
*****
Part 41
*****
“So at the risk of getting personal, do you two have an ‘Understandable Indiscretion’ clause?” Tanya asked, wiping pizza sauce from her chin.
“Um…having a hard time matching the noun with the adjective,” Willow replied hesitantly.
“Oh, we’re not talking random flings,” Tanya hastily assured her. “I mean, specific—albeit completely unattainable—women. If by some miracle you ended up with the chance to sleep with them, you’d be forgiven for doing so.”
As Willow and Tara looked at each other with uncertainty, Tanya continued, “For me, it’s Halle Barry. If she shows up and says, ‘Hey Tanya—wanna make with the hot sex?’ I get to go for it. Oh, and Charlize Theron. Bev…let’s see, I think she went with Sandra Bullock and maybe Ashley Judd.”
“Sounds like a fun game,” Tara acknowledged, until she felt Willow’s eyes fall upon her with the force of a bludgeon. “At least, fun for other people who aren’t me. It’s not so much my thing.”
Tanya laughed; it was a deep, rich sound that Tara liked immensely. She drew some comfort from the fact that her aunt’s partner hadn’t lost her sense of humor. She watched Tanya glance first at her watch, and then out the wide restaurant window.
“How long does it take a person to put money in a meter? We only parked a block away.” She looked at Tara, who saw nascent fear emerge in the dark eyes across from her, felt it slide across the table into her own heart. There was a brief silence, and then all three women had pushed back their chairs and were heading for the door, oblivious to the manager’s angry shouts.
Moments later, it was clear that Beverly wasn’t on her way back to the restaurant; wasn’t at the car; wasn’t anywhere that they could find her. Tara felt dread slinking along her veins until it threatened to drown her from within. As Tanya spun to look at her, she saw terror and rage and something else—a fierce and furious determination. She held Tara’s gaze for several seconds, her breathing shallow. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.
“How do we find this bitch?” she muttered.
*****
“So Bev—how do you like my not-even-remotely-humble abode?” Glory, who just moments ago sounded as if she were about to have her minions decapitate the woman in front of her, had abruptly turned agreeable, even engaging.
Girlfriend needs a mood stabilizer, Beverly thought dimly. Where does a god go for psychiatric services?
Aloud, she replied, “It’s nice, Glo. Plush, yet just this side of garish.”
Glory laughed, delighted. “I’m so glad you like it! Especially since this suite will be your last stop on the subway o’ Life.”
“No time for that pony ride?” Beverly asked.
“’Fraid not,” Glory answered, and her voice sounded almost regretful. “But we can move the torture from room to room, so you can sample all the amenities.”
“How about the bathroom?” Beverly suggested.
“How about the name of the Key?” Glory countered.
*****
“Tanya, wait—we don’t know where Glory is,” Tara said reluctantly.
“Then let’s find her.” Tanya’s voice was calm and collected and absolutely chilling.
Tara looked at Willow in anguish. Was this really happening? Had her aunt really been snatched away from them in broad daylight?
She knew the answer to both of those questions, even before she registered Willow’s gaze, a look filled with both fear and compassion.
“We’ll find her, Baby,” Willow assured her, in that voice that told her that no matter how Big the Bad, Willow would never let her face it alone.
Tara held onto her hands and drew a deep breath, then turned back to Tanya. “I think we should find the others,” she said simply.
*****
“You know, Glo, we could have some difficulty with the torture bit.” That’s it, Maclay…Keep it light. This chica doesn’t want to fuck you up beyond recognition; at least not yet, not before she gets her info.
Wonder how she’ll take the news that she’s not getting her info?
“And what might the problem be?” Glory asked, in the same solicitous tone.
“Well, I don’t exactly advertise this fact—I mean, in the world of education, a certain discretion is called for—but I’m really into the ‘S’ part of ‘S&M.’ I mean it—the more it hurts, the giddier I get. Could make for a long and ultimately frustrating experience for you.”
“Is that right?” Glory asked, her crossed arms barely visible in the dark recess.
“Oh yeah,” Beverly enthused. “If you really wanna inflict some damage, I’d suggest a glass of Merlot and a warm bath with sandalwood foaming gel.”
“Really?”
“Definitely. It’s hurting me to even say the words.”
Tentatively, like a squirrel considering a run across an interstate highway, a voice piped up from Beverly’s right.
“Please forgive my most presumptuous and mind-numbingly stupid interruption, Thou Eternally Scrumptious One, but I believe the Protector lies.”
“You think so, Einstein?” Beverly flinched as a vase shattered next to the toady who had just spoken. “Boy, nothing gets by you, does it?” Glory took a quick step toward her, and then halted, teetering slightly. “What the hell is it about you?” she muttered weakly, stepping back as far from Beverly as she could.
“I dunno,” Beverly shrugged. “A lot of women fall all over themselves to get close to me.”
“Damn it,” came the low hiss. “Why is this so hard? All I wanna do is get back home, prop myself up on a few eternally suffering souls in front of a nice roaring fire, and spend some quality time with my peeps; my two buds; the ones who spit me out into this little slice of suburban hell. I’m so close to the Key I can practically feel it; you know who it is and you won’t tell me; and before long, that humanity-infested twin of mine is gonna show up and want the remote.”
OK, didn’t know that…
Wonder what else Her Royal Insanity would like to share with the group?
“Glo, you oughtta give this realm a chance. What’s so bad about it?”
She heard Glory slam a fist into the étagère beside her, sending expensive curios flying against the wall.
“What’s so bad? What isn’t? The noise; the mortality; the smells; the humans.” Beverly could feel two baleful eyes glaring at her. “And look at you—you’re not human, and you’re going to die for them?”
For Tanya? About a thousand times, if needed.
“But what about your sister? If she’s human, doesn’t she at least bring a wee smile to that sad face of yours?”
“Sister? What the…?” Then a harsh, grating laugh barked out of the shadows. “Oh, you’re talking about my mortal coil!” Glory’s voice was heavy with disdain. “Lemme tell you something, Bev…Opposites do not attract, ever. My brother, for want of a better word, is as dedicated to saving humans as I am to eating them for breakfast.”
Brother?
*****
Within 45 minutes, Tara, Willow, and Tanya had been joined at Dominic’s Pizza Den by Giles, Buffy, and Dawn. Willow had conveyed the urgency of the situation as explicitly as possible without naming Glory or the Key by name. Introductions had been hasty and strained, particularly where Dawn and Tanya were involved.
“You say that Beverly left to put more time on the meter, and after a few minutes you became worried?” Giles’ expression conveyed his own concern.
“Right,” Willow nodded.
“But if it was only a few minutes, they couldn’t have gone too far, right?” Buffy asked, looking at Giles.
“I don’t know that that really applies here, Buffy,” the Watcher countered regretfully. “We don’t know that Glory is constrained by typical parameters such as speed.”
“Except that I bet Glory wasn’t there; not in the alley, anyway,” Tara put in suddenly.
“Why is that?” Giles looked puzzled.
“Because Glory can’t be around Bev without getting a little woozy, remember?” Tara replied.
“That’s right,” Willow joined in quickly. “She’d have to send her scabby little sycophants to—to do it.” She stopped abruptly, watching Tanya’s face at this last part.
“And we have no evidence that Glory’s minions have any particular powers,” Giles said thoughtfully. “So perhaps she was taken somewhere close.”
“I can’t really see any of those crusty little half-pints pulling away in a ’95 Civic,” Buffy mused. “And you say the rental car wasn’t touched?”
“Nothing,” Tara concurred, looking at Tanya. The other woman’s silence was beginning to worry her.
“Tanya, is Beverly strong? Could she have put up a struggle; made it difficult for them to…well, to take her?” Tara could see that Giles hated asking the question.
But Tanya’s jaw only tightened for a moment before she replied, “She’s tough, I know that. But I guess it depends on whether they took her by surprise, and whether they—whether they used any weapons.” As she said this last part, Tara could see her swallow hard, trying to keep her voice steady.
Dawn, she realized, hadn’t spoken at all. She suspected that Buffy and Giles had tried to discourage the teenager from accompanying them, to no avail. She knew that Dawn had taken an instant liking to her aunt; more to the point, she was fairly certain that Dawn was already carrying a heavy burden of guilt. Beverly’s kidnapping would surely worsen that.
“So do we fan out?” Willow was asking. “Start from here and work outwards, looking for possible living quarters? There’s a cyber-café on the next block; I could pull up the street plans and rule out some places, save us some time.” Tara could practically see her girlfriend shifting into problem-solving mode. Tanya, by contrast, appeared to be shifting into vengeance mode, judging from the fury that practically radiated from her.
“That might well be our best option, Willow,” Giles assented.
“Tanya, I know you must be crazy right now, but remember, Glory’s not gonna want to hurt her. Bev has something she needs.”
Tara halted abruptly as she was reaching out to Tanya. Hurt…Bev, hurting…Her head hurting so bad, so suddenly…
“Ben,” she practically shouted.
*****
“OK, so I may be way outta line with the personal questions here, but you have a brother?”
“You’re not going to try some family therapy thing are you? Tell me that communication is the key to any good relationship?” Glory’s voice was bored, and Beverly knew that that was a bad sign.
“So Glo and the bro aren’t close?”
Glory’s laugh sounded anything but humorous. “Beverly, Beverly…Methinks you’re stalling.” Turning to one of her toadies, she said conversationally, “I think we should start the persuasion techniques now, Jinx.”
“Gladly, Most Curiously Strong One,” came the eager reply. “What would you have us do?”
“Hmm…I think to start, we’ll go with something distinctive but not too extreme,” Glory mused.
“Oh God, not the Merlot!” Beverly screamed.
Glory chuckled. “You got some brass ovaries, girl.” She paused, and then added, “I’ll have to soak them a few hours before I eat them.”
*****
“Ben? What’s he got to do with this?” Giles asked, perplexed.
Tara hastily recounted the chance meeting two nights ago, and Beverly’s inexplicable reaction.
“So you think Ben’s involved with Glory somehow?” Buffy’s voice was skeptical.
“I don’t know,” Tara shrugged. “But there’s no denying the fact that her headache was severe and the fact that it was perfectly synchronized to his coming and going.”
“He gave me his number, too—remember?” Willow said excitedly.
Tanya looked hard at Willow; Tara could see the effort it was taking for her aunt’s partner to keep it together. “Get him on the phone,” she said simply.
As Willow began to rummage through her bag for Ben’s information, Giles glanced at the front section of a Sunnydale Prism that had been left on the table to their right.
“Hullo, what’s this?” he murmured, retrieving the paper. “‘Gathering of Robed Horsemen Draws Citation,’” he read. Scanning the article, he explained, “It appears that a patrol car happened upon a large group of men dressed in black robes, loitering in the woods outside of town. Apparently, they travel by horse,” he concluded.
“Think they have anything to do with this?” Buffy asked.
“I don’t know. According to the story, they were all served with citations for creating a disturbance and failure to pick up their animals’ droppings. They’re being held for further questioning.”
“Wow…Stealth, not so much an option when horses get involved,” Buffy murmured.
Tara had been watching Dawn during this exchange. She sensed that the girl was close to tears. Finally, she reached across the table and took Dawn’s hand in her own.
“Dawn, Sweetie, it’ll be OK. We’ll find her,” she said softly.
“Yeah, Dawnie—you know our motto: A day without mortal peril is like a day we never experience.”
But Dawn wasn’t looking at either of them. Instead, she was staring at Tanya.
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered, her voice tight with misery.
Tanya didn’t insult Dawn by asking “What for?” She only sighed, and shook her head.
“I know that if it weren’t for me, Beverly wouldn’t be in danger,” the teenager continued, ignoring Buffy’s warning glance.
Tanya looked at her for a long moment, then dropped her head into her hands. Tara wondered if she were crying, but when the older woman looked up again, her eyes were dry as she gazed intently at the Key.
“Dawn, I’ll be honest with you—when I first heard about all of this, I hated you.” Dawn flinched at the words. “I didn’t even know you,” Tanya continued, “but I hated what you meant to our lives; I hated the thought that Beverly could die because of you.”
“Hey—enough with the ‘H’ word, OK?” Buffy interjected, her voice laced with hostility.
“Let her talk,” Dawn muttered. “I’d rather hear the truth than a bunch of reassurances I don’t believe.”
“Tough girl,” Tanya murmured. “Good for you.” She rubbed her hands across her eyes as if trying to erase an image from her mind. Then she looked back at Dawn. “Thing is, Girlfriend, I suddenly realized that if it weren’t for you, Beverly wouldn’t even be here; at least, I don’t think she would. So it’s kind of a Catch-22, you know? Beverly could die to protect the reason she was created.” She turned, staring out the window for a moment, then turned back to Dawn. A rueful half-smile crossed her lips. “And then I get here and I meet you and you’re all of what—fifteen?—and you’re worried sick about my baby, and Tara and Willow obviously think you’re the bee’s knees, and I don’t hate you…I just want Beverly back. So I’m sorry if my social skills aren’t on their A-Game, Dawn, but don’t blame yourself, OK? Because I don’t.”
Dawn swallowed heavily, and then nodded. She chewed her lower lip for a moment, and then said so softly that Tara had to strain to hear her, “I’ll do anything it takes to get her back, Tanya. I promise you.”
Suddenly, Willow gave a muted shout of triumph. “Got it! ‘Ben Dover—234-0126,’” she read.
“His name is Ben Dover? That’s gotta have some issues attached to it,” Buffy muttered.
“Let’s see what he knows,” Tanya said decisively.
“What do we say?” Willow asked, her fingers poised over the keypad of her cell phone. “‘Hi, Ben. Say, are you involved with a Hell God? Just wondering.’ Not much nuance.”
“Buffy, you talk,” Tara instructed. “Tell him you need to see him.”
“Why me?” Buffy asked, but her question was too purposefully innocent for Tara to grant it any credence.
“Because he’ll be more responsive to you, and you know it,” she replied. “Ask him if you can come over to his place.”
“What if he’s at the hospital?” Giles interjected.
“Then try to talk to him in person; tell him you’ll come over later, when he’s done, and see if he’ll give you the address. That may even work better—we can check the place out while he’s gone.”
“Damn, Tara—there’s more spy girl to you than I knew,” Buffy replied admiringly. Tara watched with faint amusement as Buffy unconsciously settled her face into Subtle Flirtation Mode. “OK, here goes.”
*****
My left hip…That doesn’t hurt. Just concentrate on your trusty left glute, Maclay, and you won’t be so upset about that blood pouring out of your face…
Such positive self-talk was interrupted by the harsh ring of a phone. She tried to lift her head, but her view of the Hell God was obscured even more by the blood that ran down over and into her eyes. Her hearing, though, was still good.
“Damn it, Benjamin, not now!” The voice was as harsh as it had been for the past hour, but now it was also tinged with frustration. Beverly could hear a struggle emanating from the shadows at the back of the room.
Who the hell’s she fighting? I never passed out; I know nobody came in.
After several seconds, the scuffle seemed to subdue, and then she heard nothing. Even the minions had been silenced, it seemed. Finally, a slender figure emerged from the shadows.
Who’s the guy in drag?
*****
“Hi—is this Ben?” Buffy’s voice bordered on breathless.
Tara caught Willow’s eyes across the table. They had compared notes before with regard to Buffy’s somewhat split personality where men were concerned. Demon-slaying warrior by night; occasionally dippy Valley Girl by day.
“Oh, good—I’m so glad I caught you. Are you at work right now?”
Buffy gave a quick shake of her head to the others. “Well, I hope it’s OK that I called you…What? Oh, Willow gave me your number…Yeah, I kinda asked her for it.”
Now Tanya had joined in with the raised eyebrows. Glancing over at Dawn, she muttered, “If you’re into guys, Dawn, take notes.” She gave the Key a small grin.
“I was wondering if I could stop over…Yeah…Well, I need to talk to you. About what? Oh—uh, about…about my spleen.”
Her spleen? Better than STD’s, I guess…
“Yeah…Oh, I just have a couple of questions…Plus, I’d like to see you. Yeah…Is this a good time? Oh? Why not?” Her glance to the rest of them conveyed her suspicion at his response.
“OK…What about later? Oh—you have a double shift? Well, I guess we won’t be getting together, will we? Tomorrow night? Well, that might work…What if I come over to your place?”
My God, if this guy isn’t involved with any of this, he’s gotta think Buffy’s the easiest thing since falling off a log.
“Dinner at Antonio’s? I dunno…I may need to take action on my spleen before then. I’ll get back to you.” So saying, she hung up abruptly.
“OK, guys, Ben definitely does not want me to see his place. Either he’s got a crazy wife locked in the attic, or something else is going on. Will, can you hack into the hospital files and find his home address?”
“Consider it done,” Willow replied, speaking literally—she had started the task when Buffy was still on the phone. “Dover, Benjamin K. Lives at 228 Delgado.” She looked up hopefully. “That’s only a couple of blocks from here.”
“Let’s go,” Tanya said, in a voice that left little room for debate.
*****
Don’t pass out, Maclay. Whatever just happened, Glory’s not happy about it, and this may be your only chance to get out of here.
She could barely make out the shape of the person approaching her.
Where's Glory? And why is this guy wearing her dress?
She tried to focus on him; tried to form words. The closer he came, however, the more she hurt. Blood was streaming down over her face, blurring her vision; she was already in worse pain than she had ever imagined; and now it felt as if her very brain were about to explode. She dimly recognized it as a different kind of pain…She had felt that before—when? Recently, wasn’t it? Nausea rose up in her at the force of it; she fought to hold onto consciousness.
Two nights ago—that was it. When she met that guy…Ben, wasn’t it?
She heard him take another step toward her and knew that she would pass out with the pain. Through the roaring in her ears, she dimly heard a voice from her left beseeching, “You must leave, Most Rippled Muscular One. You must allow Glory to return.”
“No…No, I have to help her. Help me untie her, you scabby little wretch.” Beverly recognized the voice, though now it held none of its previous friendliness. She heard an agonized sob wrench from someone nearby; with an almost-detached surprise, she realized that it had come from her.
“Please, Your Illustrious Symbiotic Handsomeness…The great Glorificus will be most displeased if—” The pathetic voice fell silent abruptly, only to resume with greater urgency. “Someone approaches, Sir. If you will not allow Glory to return, you must leave at once.”
“No—no, I should stay and just get this over with, right now…one way or another. Maybe it’s not too late.” Through her agony, Beverly could hear the desperation in his voice.
“Do you really think that, Most Ambivalent One? That you can explain all of this to anyone—even the lovely mortal who just called—and they would understand? Of course not. Go, Sir, if you still refuse Glory her home. We will take care of this one.”
Oh, well shit.
But the sabers piercing her brain had stilled, just a little bit, as Ben stepped uncertainly away from her.
“I’m—God, I’m so sorry,” he finally whispered, anguish thick in his retreating voice.
Seconds later, she heard the door burst open. By now, her eyes were completely useless, coated with her own blood. But she knew it was Tanya; knew it even before she heard the choked sound of her own name called out in the voice that had first serenaded her years ago.
“Bev—oh God, Baby.”
She tried to warn her; tried to tell her that there were still enemies in the room—albeit extremely short and poorly dressed ones. But she couldn’t speak. Her tongue was too thick within her mouth and she wasn’t totally sure how she was even breathing at the moment.
“Buffy!” She recognized Willow’s voice. “Scabby minion, two o’clock!”
Bev could hear the sounds of a quick and decisive struggle. From her left, she thought she heard several creatures scurrying off, hoping to avoid their cohort’s fate.
At that point, she stopped worrying much about what else was going on because Tanya had reached her and was pulling frenetically on the ropes that held her.
“Baby—just hold on, OK? We’ll get you out of here. You’re safe now, Sweetie.” The words tumbled out in an anguished sob.
“Here—hold this li’l fella, Giles. I think he’s gonna be a big help to us in the near future.” Beverly could hear Buffy shove the vanquished and now-groveling Assistant to the Hell God aside and dart over to her. Within seconds, the ropes were untied. Beverly felt herself floating off, almost as if she now knew that she could afford to; that she was finally safe. She watched herself fall into Tanya’s arms; watched the strong arms encircle her and pull her into a gentle but fiercely protective embrace.
The last thing she remembered was the sound of her own voice saying, “I’m in big trouble for this one, aren’t I?” and Tanya’s soft, sweet laughter, threaded with her tears, spilling down over her soul as she finally let go.
*****
To Be Continued
*****
Well that was interesting and a funny mention of Y'all. I like Tanya already, her crack about video's was funny and well she gets points for maybe inspiring a Willow and Tara videotape *drools*. 
. No matter what Tanya says though she making Bev's work a lot more difficult. A extra person to be protected and who might very easily be used to pressure Bev. Would have been much better if Tanya was far far away. Remind me to lecture Beverly about going into dark alleys alone, thats too stupid to even think about given that she KNOWS there is lots of trouble around.
I loved it.
...looking forward, am I, to the next installment.
