Unrequited Love II; A Slightly Slashy Sequel

For Megan, bass player, future rock legend and fellow Dogma fan. Without her this plotbunny would be dead; she encouraged me to keep writing after my initial panicked email; 'I've got a really odd Dogma-slashbunny, what do I do???'

Rating; R; slash (Bartleby/Loki), violence, language, placenta. Forgive my lack of medical knowledge; I originally based parts of the scene in the wood on the delivery of a foal before I managed to find a book with details of human childbirth, (I'm a biology student, ok? Humans sooo not my specialty) so if any of the details are wrong for humans, forgive me, and please, by all the gods don't try to follow my vague instructions. For those who are curious about equine pregnancy, consult Black's Veterinary Dictionary for enlightenment J

Disclaimer; Dogma not mine, all characters not mine etc ad nauseum.

Warning; Flame me and I'll flame you back. Be told.

Remember kiddies, those who can, write slash. Those who can't, flame those who can.

OK, so this is my idea of what a 'Dogma II' should be like, minus the slash. Well to be honest, I'd love it if Dogma II included slash, but you can't have everything, and I doubt Ben Affleck and Matt Damon would go for it, somehow. Sigh

Metatron was wandering Heaven, pondering on what had occurred over the last few months. After the whole 'plenary indulgence' fiasco, Loki the ex-Angel of Death had been restored to angelic status as a reward for his repentance, but had been banned from leaving Heaven, and banned from trying to contact his friend Bartleby, who had been placed on Earth as a human, and had his memory of his time as an angel wiped. God, in his –her- infinite wisdom had felt that it panned out neater that way. Better story all round. However not everything was hunky dory in the kingdom of Heaven.

Metatron sighed. Loki was watching Bartleby again. Shaking his head, the Seraphim walked over to Loki, and tried to pull him away from the pool of water he was watching his friend in.

'Come on, Loki. Leave it for now.'

Loki beat at the Voice with his hands, crying 'You sick fuck! Look at what you're doing to him! Look at him!' Sighing, Metatron peered into the pool. The sight that met his eyes was indeed pitiful.

It was night, and Bartleby was tossing and turning in his bed, whimpering, whispering Loki's name, and the words 'I'm sorry' over and over. Finally he curled up in a foetal position, moaning. His dreams were haunting him.

The dreams were the one flaw in the 'stick him back on Earth' plan. Apparently God couldn't do anything about his subconscious. And his subconscious was wracked with guilt about his attempt to destroy the universe, and the murder of Loki.

Loki was railing against the treatment, following Metatron as he started to walk away.

'He's on a cocktail of anti-depressive drugs, he goes to fucking therapy three times a week, he's joined every group the Catholic Church has just to feel like he belongs somewhere, and he still feels cut off from everything, and he still feels guilty. Let me go talk to him!'

'Loki, he wouldn't remember you. It'd scare him out of his mind-'

'You're torturing him, and he doesn't even know why! He doesn't remember anything, except when he's asleep, and then it all comes back to haunt him! It's sick, it's torture! Hasn't he paid his debt? Let him come home! Or at least let me go join him.'

'Loki, this is selfish of you. You only want to go back because you fancy him.' Loki gaped.

'You do know he's tried to suicide four times, don't you? Let me tell you what happened; the first time he tried to shoot himself. Fortunately the mailman spotted him through the front window and made him put the gun down. The second time, he tried to OD on painkillers. Only someone rang him on the phone and he collapsed while trying to get then to hang up, and they called 911. The third time he tried to step in front of a bus. Driver managed to swerve. Amazing coincidence, that. Thousand to one chance, they said at the hearing. The last time, he went direct and tried to slit his wrists. Again, the mailman managed to save him. Now I don't know about you, but that suggests a fucking conspiracy to me! Too many neat coincidences. Let me go back, I'll look after him!'

Metatron wouldn't look at Loki. 'He's safe enough.'

'You're having him followed, aren't you?' said Loki accusingly.

'You don't understand, it's for his own good. We can't have him dying-'

'I fucking knew those weren't coincidences. He's "dying" by fucking degrees down there and all you can do is watch him!'

Metatron lost his patience.

'Look, Loki. God has decreed that he stays there, and you stay here, and never the twain shall meet, as the poet has it. So bloody well stay put and SHUT UP!'

He walked away.

Bartleby, or rather, Ben Gregory, as he was now called, sat in church, eyes hungrily following the minister as he went about his usual business. Ben knew there was a God, he just knew it. But there was something wrong somewhere. He didn't feel it like he should. Thinking maybe it was something to do with participation; he'd joined everything the Church offered. As the recession of faith ended, he got up and put his coat on. He'd agreed to meet the Right-for-Lifers down at the abortion clinic this afternoon. That was one of the groups he wasn't too sure about, but it was worth a try, right?

That afternoon, kitted out with placard and picture of dead foetus as per spec, he assembled with his fellow Catholics at the clinic. Every time they thought someone was watching they started shouting and chanting. Ben felt slightly ridiculous. A heavily pregnant woman walked past them, and they raised a cheer for the mother-to-be, until she started walking towards the abortion clinic.

'Murderer!'

'You're not fit to have a baby!'

'Whore!'

She ignored them, with an ease born of practice. The thwarted Right-For-Lifers grabbed her, jostling her.

'Hey, back off!' she shouted, trying to make her way out of the throng. She pushed at Joe, one of the leaders of the group. Biiig mistake. He pushed her right back, and she fell heavily. Ben started. That was going too far. He wasn't going to have anything to do with beating up women. Shoving his way through, he picked her up by the arm and, bulldozing his way through the little crowd, tearing off the stupid placard as he went, he got her out and away from them.

'Thanks,' she said, dusting herself off. She looked up at him and smiled, until a spasm of recognition wrenched her face and she yanked her arm away from him.

'You!'

'What? Look, are you ok lady?'

'Stay away from me! Come back to try again, have you? Nobody left to kill in New Jersey, so you come here?'

'Hey, easy lady, I haven't killed anyone-'he reached for her arm to steady her, as she was dangerously close to over balancing. She jerked away from him

'You dickless bastard! Where's your friend, the mass murderer? Busy plotting genocide somewhere else? God, I thought you were dead. I so hoped you were dead.'

Ben was genuinely puzzled. He became more puzzled when two fists flew out of seemingly nowhere and clobbered him on either side of his head.

'Hey!'

'Fuck off, Big Bird! Go back to where the hell you came from!'

Two guys were standing next to the woman, helping her up.

'Shit, you all right? Did that dead bastard try anything?'

'No, I'm fine.' The woman stood up, flanked by the two guys. They all stared threateningly at him.

'All right, leaving now.' said Ben, backing away rather fast, rubbing his sore head.

'Yeah! And don't you come back!' As he left, Ben thought he heard the mouthy guy say

'I thought he was dead?'

Ben walked back to his apartment, feeling lost. They'd seemed to know who he was, they thought he was dead, and they obviously weren't all that keen on him. Unlocking his door, he headed straight for the medicine cabinet and downed a handful of pills. He felt the need of them.

Azrael eyed his minions. There weren't many of them to eye, but he gave them a damn good eyeing anyway. And sighed. The Stygian Triplets looked back at him rather vacantly. The Golgothan just stood. They were all he could get. The Powers of Hell had been keeping rather a close eye on him these days, and not many other demons would have much truck with him. The Triplets were easy to manipulate, however, and the Golgothan just liked to kill, and didn't get much opportunity these days, what with all those cameras out there just waiting to get a snapshot of a seven foot tall monster made of faeces.

'Right. The plan is fairly simple, so I would appreciate it if you lot would at least try to comprehend. The woman, Bethany. You need to kill her. You have failed to do this several times, don't ask me why. It should be a reasonably simple task, even for dimwits such as yourselves. She is a mortal, Last Scion or not, and will fall to conventional weapons. She has no power. She is however being guarded by the two little idiots she picked up along the way last time. With a little luck, none of our other 'friends' will show up. So I need you to be quick and discreet.' The demons looked blankly at him. He could just see them thinking 'discreet? Huh?' He sighed. 'Careful. Now go.'

There was a problem in Heaven. In a word; Azrael. Again. How one fallen bloody Muse managed to cause so much trouble was completely beyond Metatron, but nevertheless, he was summoned into Her presence, and the situation was 'brainstormed.'

'You're sure?'

God contrived to indicate that She was indeed sure. Metatron looked severely troubled. 'What are we going to do?'

God raised an eyebrow.

'All right, all right. Suggestions. Well, the only people we've got who've dealt with him before are Bethany, those two little stoners, and Serendipity. If he can get out of Hell again, past all the guards they set on him after his last little escapade, he must be stronger now, and so we'd need more firepower.' Metatron pondered.

'I think we're going to have to send an angel. One who doesn't mind a bit of combat. And you're going to hate this idea, but the best person for that is Loki.' Metatron waited for a response. God did indeed hate the idea.

'Arrgh! Do you mind! I may not explode when you talk to me, but still! No, look, he's the only option! All the other angels are sodding conscientious objectors.'

She looked at him questioningly.

'Bartleby? You want him involved?'

Pause.

'Well yes, he'd be helpful, he does know Azrael's modus operandi rather well, and lets face it, he was always the brains of the duo, but still-'

Pause.

'Yes I know Loki on his own couldn't think his way out of a paper bag, but considering Bartleby's history-'

Pause

'I'm sure he's penitent, but he's now human. And he and Loki, well, they might get distracted. How're we going to be sure they won't get, um, sidetracked?'

Pause.

'Oh no! I'm NOT going to babysit-arrgh! Stop! Please! Ok, ok, I'll go!

Metatron stomped off, inasmuch as it is possible for an angel as exalted as the Metatron to stomp.

'So, what are you two doing back in Illinois? Not still looking for John Hughes?' said Bethany.

Jay threw Silent Bob a filthy look. 'Nah. A dealer guy we know up this way got himself convicted. Said we could have his stash when he went inside. We thought we'd drop in and see you on the way back. Looks like we got here just in time, too. That fucking Bartleby shit trying to get you again. You sure you're ok?'

'I'm fine.'

'What were you doing here anyways?'

'I was walking to the clinic to see Liz, before I got jumped by those idiot Right-for-Lifers. Funny thing is, he pulled me out before I got trampled.' Bethany looked thoughtful.

Silent Bob looked at Jay. Jay nodded.

'Silent Bob and me are going to hang around. Make sure he don't come back.'

'That's sweet, really, but-'

'No buts.'

Bethany sighed, and let them lead her down the street. At least Jay hadn't tried to hit on her yet. She wondered vaguely why.

Metatron trudged off through Heaven, looking for Loki. Not that he really needed to look. He knew exactly where the other angel would be.

'Loki!'

'What?' Loki didn't look up from the pool.

'You're not going to believe this, but you've got to go see Bartleby.'

'You're right. I don't believe it.'

'Look, Azrael's back. He's after Bethany and the sprog. You, me and your boyfriend down there have to go and see to it that he doesn't get near them.'

Loki looked around. The tired expression on Metatron's face told him that it was true.

'But you said he wouldn't remember me . . . '

'It shouldn't take long to reawaken his old memories. He's only been 'Ben' for a few months. Just go down and talk to him; he'll remember you. I'll follow you down-'

Loki dematerialised.

'-in a few minutes.' Metatron sighed. This day just wasn't getting any better.

It was too much. No longer. First the Right-For-Lifers attacking that woman (and why? They were supposed to be in the right, but attacking a pregnant woman, in fact, attacking anyone was wrong, it was so wrong.) and then the woman's reaction. What had he done that hurt her so much? One thing was clear; he wasn't going to stay here any longer, not when he could do so much damage without even knowing it. No-one would miss him. He didn't have a girlfriend, or siblings, his parents had died years ago. No-one would care, and he'd be free.

Ben walked to the kitchen and opened a drawer. There he pulled out a paring knife. He'd spent ages once, sharpening it to a razor edge. And now was the time to use it. By the light of the moon he rolled up his sleeve, and took a deep breath. He brought the knife down, but jerked it away again at the last moment. He slid to the floor, and gritted his teeth, drawing the knife lightly across his wrist just once, not cutting any arteries, as an experiment. As he watched the blood seep slowly down his arm, there was a thudding noise in the gloom. He paid it no attention

Loki landed in the shadows of Bartleby's house. He looked up from straightening his clothing, to see Bartleby sitting hunched up against his kitchen bench, staring at his bare arm. There was something dark trickling down it . . .

'Bartleby, no!' Loki ran to where his friend sat, hypnotised by the blood.

'Who the hell-'

'No time! Fuck, what do I do? What do I do?' Loki wailed frantically, tearing strips off his clothing to tie round Bartleby's wrist.

'What in God's name are you doing in my house?' asked Bartleby, shoving Loki aside and picking the knife up again.

It shouldn't take much to awaken his old memories, Metatron had said. He's only been 'Ben' for a few months.

'Bartleby, it's me. Loki. Look at me! Tell me you remember me.'

'I don't have a clue- wait. You're the guy from my dream-'

'You remember your dreams?'

'Not usually I don't, but . . . you're the guy I-'Staring in horror, Bartleby dropped the knife with a clatter. Loki took the opportunity to try and bandage the bleeding wrist. 'I . . . I . . . Oh God! What did I do? What did I do?' Bartleby buried his head in his hands, wracked with sobs. Loki could guess why.

'Bartleby, it's ok. I'm ok.'

'Who's Bartleby . . . I'm, I mean, I was Bartleby. And you're . . . Loki . . . Oh God . . .' moaned Bartleby, grief stricken.

'You still are Bartleby. Come on man, snap out of it.' Loki grabbed his friend's shoulders, trying to look into his face. Suddenly Bartleby pushed him away and grabbed the knife once more. Loki knocked it out of his hand.

'That's not the way-'

'I've got to! It's the only way I can be free! I've got to!'

'No, Bartleby, you don't! You've got me!' Loki lifted Bartleby's face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. Desperately he began to kiss his friend's face, half kisses, whisper kisses, gently trying to ease Bartleby out of his misery. Eventually Bartleby could stand the teasing no longer, and he grabbed at Loki and kissed him, properly. They shifted position until Bartleby was in the warm circle of Loki's arms, sat against the cupboards on the cold lino in the kitchen, the moon shining on their faces. And it was at this moment, when they were locked into their first truly loverly embrace, that Metatron chose to materialise.

'If I may interrupt this very romantic scene,' he began 'we do have a Scion to save. Two of them, in fact.'

Loki was still wrapped around Bartleby. He glared belligerently at Metatron. 'Jesus, you do pick your moments-'

'Save it, lovebirds. We've got to go.' He stalked out of the room. The other two followed him.

'What's he talking about?'

'Bethany. Pregnant. Azrael trying to kill her. We've got to stop him.' said Loki quietly.

'Where is she?'

'Just around the corner from you, actually,' came Metatron's voice. 'Now will you two hurry up?'

Loki reached out and took Bartleby's hand. They smiled at each other.

'And I saw that!'

Bethany was sat in a chair in her lounge. Jay and Silent Bob were sitting on the sofa. Jay looked abashed. He'd spilt his big secret. Bethany was having a hard time adjusting.

'You're what?'

'I'm gay. I'm gay! Anybody got a fucking problem with this? OK, I said it, happy now?' Jay said sourly to Silent Bob. Silent Bob nodded.

'You're kidding me, right?'

Silent Bob shook his head.

'See, after what that Apostle guy said, I got thinking. And then this sad bitch here tries to set me up with his cousin.' Jay glared at Silent Bob. 'and you get the picture.'

Bethany was slightly incredulous.

'Dude, I told you she wouldn't get it! Look, I thought you'd be glad I'm not tryna get into your pants no more!'

'I'm . . . very happy for you. Um.' She just had to ask. 'So, are you two . . . you know?'

'Shit no! We're strictly friends. You think I'd fuck him?'

'Sorry.'

There was a knock at the door. Making her excuses, Bethany went to get it.

'What the hell-'

'Hello Bethany.'

Jay and Silent Bob looked at each other. They reached an agreement and went to the door. Metatron, with Loki and Bartleby behind him, stood at the door.

'It's them! Shit, we're busted!' said Jay frantically.

'Ah. My favourite little stoner. Why don't you shut up and we'll come in and explain things-'began Metatron.

'Neither of those two is getting into my house.' said Bethany implacably.

'Right. Well, in that case, here's what we do. I come in, and these two go somewhere else.' Metatron looked at Bartleby and Loki. He raised an eyebrow that they just knew meant 'And you two behave yourselves.' Without a word they both wandered back down the street.

'There's a playground just down the street' he called after them. 'Now may I come in? You do trust me, don't you?'

'Since you turned up with those two, I'm not so sure.'

'Oh give over! Look, here's the deal. Azrael's back. We're here to make sure our interests are not compromised.' He looked meaningfully at her swollen stomach.

She clutched at her belly 'You think he's after me?'

'You and the baby.'

'You'd better come in.'

'Finally.'

'So where do those two come in? I thought they'd died.'

'They did. But God gave Loki back his wings in reward for his attempt to stop Bartleby, and She sent Bartleby back to earth, sans memories, to live as a human. Don't ask me why. I think maybe She thought it sounded more mythical that way. Anyway, when She found out that our little horned friend was back on the job, She sent me to recruit Loki. Loki's the only angel who'd take on a job like this.'

'A job like this. . . .you're going to kill Azrael? Can he be killed? I thought Silent Bob had done a pretty good job.' Silent Bob nodded his thanks.

'Silent Bob just sent him back to Hell. Oh, he destroyed the body, but the spirit remains. Takes an angel to kill something from the astral plane, and the only angel we've got who knows anything about killing is Loki.'

'So why Bartleby?'

'Cos Loki's not exactly the brightest cookie in the jar and we needed some brainpower. And frankly bribery was the only way to get Loki to agree to come.' Metatron fidgeted. 'A word of advice about Bartleby; he's rather fragile at the moment. Loki triggered his memories; let him remember being an angel, and unfortunately that means remembering the 'plenary indulgence' incident as well. Including the bit where he murdered Loki. That's giving him some problems, seeing as he and Loki are as close to being an 'item' as an angel and a human can be.' Bethany looked stunned. Metatron rolled his eyes. 'You can't tell me you didn't suspect it.' She nodded. 'Look, I have to tell you this so there're no . . .  misunderstandings . . . later on. Just remember; reminding him of his spirited attempt at genocide would not be a good move.'

Down the street, in the playground, Loki and Bartleby were sat at a picnic table, talking.

'So, any ideas? About the whole Azrael situation?' asked Loki.

'Well, the actual dispatch, from what I understand, is your job-'began Bartleby, working through it logically. 'But he didn't go direct last time, so we're probably going to have to deal with minions this time too- what was that?'

'What?'

'That . . . buzzing noise . . . '

The buzzing noise sounded again. Loki picked it up first. 'Sounds like roller blades.'

'Why would someone be blading down the street at this time of night?' He looked at Loki. Loki was looking straight past him.

'Um, Bartleby? I think the minions we're going to have to deal with are here.'

Bartleby swung around. The Stygian Triplets looked back at him. Without prelude, they rushed towards the two seated figures, sticks lowered into an aggressive pose.

'Bartleby, get out of the way!' shouted Loki, shoving his friend aside before hurling himself off the seat in the other direction.

'It's ok, we can take them down-'

'No, I can take them down. You're mortal. Stay the fuck away from them! They'll kill you, man!'

'I'll be fine-'

A Triplet's stick came thudding down on Bartleby's shoulder, slicing through the thin sweater he had on. Bartleby gasped and dropped to his knees, but had the presence of mind to grab the stick and break it. Loki, unfazed by the blows inflicted on him, shoved the Triplet into the bushes at the edge of the playground, comatose, and turned to the next one. Bartleby steadied himself and rose to his feet, catching a second Triplet by the back of his hoodie and cracking his head repeatedly against the picnic bench. The third Triplet was drawing Loki further and further away from his friend. When he judged that the angel was far enough away, the Triplet put his head down and put on speed, thudding into Bartleby's back and sending him down, out cold on the concrete. The two remaining Triplets, one much bruised and bloodied from Bartleby's treatment, set about beating the unconscious human. Loki rushed up a moment later, grabbed both of them by their shoulders, smashed their skulls together and dumped them in the little stream that bordered the playground, before picking his passed out friend, throwing him over his shoulder (a difficult feat, considering Loki was a good bit shorter than Bartleby) and running like hell for Bethany's house.

Not bothering with formalities like knocking, he kicked the door open (not just for dramatic effect; his hands were busy trying to prevent the very unwieldy Bartleby from falling off his shoulder) and lay his friend down on the floor. Frantically he slapped at Bartleby's face and tried all the other time-honoured methods of waking up someone who's been knocked unconscious.

'Bartleby! Shit, Bartleby, wake up man, wake up!'

Hearing the commotion, Bethany, Metatron, Jay and Silent Bob trooped out into the hallway just in time to see Loki grab Bartleby's shoulders and pull him into a rough sitting position, shaking him. 'Come on man, wake up! Fuck it, wake UP!'

Bartleby opened his eyes and blinked slowly. 'Lo-'was as far as he got, because Loki, relieved, threw his arms around Bartleby.

'You bastard! You complete and utter bastard!' He drew back, and then seized Bartleby again and kissed him with total abandon. The assembled audience were slightly taken aback.

'At least someone's getting some action.' said Jay. Silent Bob rolled his eyes.

'I should get beaten up more often.' said Bartleby when he managed to disentangle himself.

'You shit! What the hell did you think you were doing? I told you to stay out of it!'

'And in other news,' Bartleby stood up with some difficulty, Loki still apparently surgically attached to him. 'I think Azrael may know where we are.'

Metatron raised an eyebrow. 'And what makes you think that?'

'Oh, the small matter of the Stygian Triplets beating the shit out of me.'

'Ah. Yes, well, I think we can safely say that counts as a clue. Look, Bethany, get some things together. We're going to have to leave. Now.'

'Where do we go?'

'Somewhere the Triplets can't.'

'Somewhere with grass – no concrete. They won't be able to roller blade on it, at least.' said Bartleby, wincing as he took a few steps forward.

'There's a big park near here.' said Bethany, putting her coat on. She shooed Jay and Silent Bob out of the front room. 'Come on, let's go.' Metatron said, herding them all out of the door. 'Now, where's this park?'

'Too far to walk. We'll have to drive.' said Bethany, leading the way to her car. 'And before you ask, no, you can't drive.' she added to Jay, without turning her head.

'No fair!'

They piled into the car, Bethany at the wheel, Metatron in the passenger's side, and the other four in the back, squashed together.

Bulleting down the road, Bethany looked in her wing mirror, and caught a flash of movement at the edge of the road. A moment later, first one, then another, then finally all three Triplets pulled out directly behind her into the road. They sped up.

'Shit, they're on our tail! How the hell can they be that fast? I'm doing eighty kilometres an hour!'

'Azrael's giving them a little assistance, I'd guess. And my advice is to step on it.' said Metatron. 'How far from this place are we now?'

'Not far.'

Suddenly Bethany threw the wheel over, and the car skidded into a right hand turn, sending all the four back seat passengers colliding together onto the one on the corner.

'Jesus Christ lady!'

'Hey, do you mind?'

'I'm trying to get us there as fast as possible!' said Bethany defensively, leaning heavily on the accelerator. They flashed past a sign saying 'Park'

'In one piece?'

Bethany failed to answer as she threw the car into a space, and slammed on the brakes. Metatron was first out of the car, his speed belying his appearance, and grabbed Bethany from the driver's seat.

'Come on, come on missy, let's go' he hustled her into the park, trailing Jay and Silent Bob, Loki and Bartleby. The buzzing rolling noise alerted them, and Metatron, without even turning around, simply swung Bethany up into his arms and sped off, leaving the other four to face the Stygian Triplets. Each little group eyed the other. The Triplets couldn't get much further without taking their skates off, and they didn't want to take their eyes off the enemy. The 'enemy' i.e. our brave heroes also didn't want to take their eyes off the Triplets, mainly because the idea of a ballistic hockey stick in the back was not attractive, and so an impasse was reached. Until a scream rent the air

'Shit, that's Bethany!' said Jay, breaking the silence and running off disjointedly into the trees, followed closely by Silent Bob. Bartleby and Loki looked at each other, looked at the Triplets, and reached a silent decision. They ran too. The Triplets attempted to follow, but were halted by their footwear.

'What's going on?' panted Loki

'I dunno, but do you want to be the one to say you didn't get there in time? She screamed; that's all we need to know!' yelled Bartleby back at Loki as they pounded between the trees. The screaming was getting louder and more frequent, and was intermingled with squelches.

'This way!'

They skidded through the vegetation and came to rest in view of a strange sight. Bethany was lying on the ground, doing the screaming. Bob was sitting next to her, holding her hand in a vague way, and looking highly worried. Jay appeared to have passed out. And at the edge of the tiny patch of space that had been found, the Metatron was battling furiously with . . .

'Shit! The Golgothan!'

'You never said a truer word.'

'This is not the time for jokes Bartleby!' screamed Loki frantically.

'That's rich, coming from you!' yelled Bartleby back.

Loki growled, exasperated. He pointed at Jay. 'What's up with him, why isn't he helping?'

Bob contrived to show that his friend had passed out.

'What the fuck for?'

'Because . . . he looked . . . at me . . .' said Bethany breathlessly.

'And what's up with you?' asked Loki, rather unwisely as it turned out.

'She's giving birth, idiot!' said Bartleby, kneeling down and taking a look. And turning rather green. Bob nodded understandingly. Bartleby squared his shoulders. 'Ok, does anyone here know how to deliver a baby? No. Right. Fine. OK, no problem . . .'

Loki was also looking a little green. Metatron suddenly gasped; he'd been hit in the stomach by a particularly large, um, missile. 'My suit!' he moaned. 'Right, that's it, you overgrown dog turd, you'll pay for that one. . . '

'Loki, go help Metatron!'

Loki made to do so-

'Hey there boys and girls.' came a cold, precise and intensely cynical voice. Azrael stepped into the clearing, immaculate in a cream summer suit and a panama hat. He straightened his lapel theatrically.

There was a moment of shock, punctuated only by a groan from Bethany. Azrael's expression changed to triumph. 'Aha, it looks like my package is on the point of arriving.' He strode over to where Bethany lay, only to be interrupted by a businesslike elbow in the gut from Bartleby.

'You're not getting anywhere near her, or the baby.' said the former angel determinedly, squaring up to the Muse. Azrael raised a sarcastic eyebrow before slamming a fist so hard into Bartleby's stomach that he flew backwards.

'Oh really? You might have been able to do something when you were angelic, Ben- 'and the name was used as a barb '- but this time you're a human, and no-one even has so much as a holy nine iron in their hands.' Azrael bent over Bethany, anticipating the leg that came flying towards his face and deftly breaking it. 'That goes for you too, sweetheart.' he said mock-kindly, watching the agonized expression on her face.

However he didn't foresee Loki grabbing him from behind in a headlock and yanking him to his feet, hauling him as far from Bethany and co as possible.

'Bartleby, you stay OUT of this- 'he yelled as Azrael flipped him over his shoulder and brought a foot down hard. But Loki rolled out of the way and jumped back to his feet again, dealing the Muse a couple of vicious jabs to the face before ducking under his arms and attempting the headlock again. Azrael ducked. They circled each other warily.

Bartleby and Bob dragged Jay's oblivious body close to Bethany's and tried to face down the Triplets, who were tramping closer. And that was the scene; Metatron and Golgothan engaging in the most disturbing version of mud wrestling since, um, ever, Loki and Azrael locked into each other's vicelike grips, and the tiny gaggle of mortals attempting to out stare the Stygian Triplets. Bartleby and Bob were having no luck; the Triplets edged closer, and closer. Bartleby looked at Bethany, who was undergoing another heinous contraction, up at the encroaching Triplets, and then at Bob. Bob returned the gaze, and understood what Bartleby wanted to do. He nodded. Suddenly Bartleby ran straight towards the Triplets, screaming as fearsomely as he could and waving his arms. They piled into him. Bob focussed his attention on Bethany, not that there was much he could do.

A groan escaped Bartleby as a Triplet caught him in the solar plexus. Loki's head whipped round. 'Bartleby-'he managed, before Azrael kicked him, hard, and he sank to his knees.

'Aww, isn't that sweet? The pair of you make such a nice couple.' said Azrael, repeatedly thudding his knee into Loki's side. 'Too bad you'll never get that happy ending.' He grabbed Loki's hair and wrenched his head back, glaring in triumph into the angel's eyes. Loki glared back, and slammed his elbow into Azrael's kneecap. The Muse grunted, something went crack, and he flopped over, balance lost for a moment, just long enough for Loki to regain his feet.

Bob was still with Bethany. After another agonizing contraction, she managed to sob out to him 'Bob . . . something's wrong. You've . . . got to take . . . a look . . .'

Bob crawled round to Bethany's legs. 'I can see feet.' he said, habitual silence forgotten in the urgency of the situation.

'No . . . head?'

'Feet.'

Bartleby, surrounded by Triplets, caught this exchange. He tried to yell something, and then had to duck speedily to avoid a hockey stick. Quickly he grabbed the stick and used it to fend off the Triplets for a moment. 'Its breech!' he managed to scream out. Azrael at the same time shouted 'Forget the mortal, grab the Scion!' The Triplets started out for their new quarry, abandoning Bartleby and the hockey stick. He ran after them, throwing the stick aside.

'Grab the feet!' he yelled to Bob. 'Pull on its feet! It won't get out by itself!' He sped up, passing the last of the three Triplets. Bob had hold of the baby's ankles.

'Don't pull too hard! Bethany, push!' For a few months, Bartleby had been a nurse – that was the profession that God had implanted in his memory. If he concentrated, he could think back to that fake life. He passed the second Triplet. The baby was emerging. Bartleby put on one last spurt of speed, passing the first Triplet in line, and scooping the baby out of Bob's hands, he kept running, through the trees, on and on, hearing the sounds of his pursuit; Triplets and Azrael, through the blood pounding in his ears – and his feet kept running, but suddenly there was no ground underneath him, and he and the baby were falling, falling through the air, and his memories told him that he had wings, but when he tried to straighten them, they weren't there, of course, he was human now, and the ground was rushing up at an alarming rate, some kind of excavation here, not too deep, but deep enough that he knew he wasn't going to walk away from this one, the ground was too close – and then a jerk on his shoulders, there was no rushing any more, just a feeling of almost weightlessness, and limbs he had  partially forgotten flexed, his wings! He had his wings! He flapped them frantically, trying to gain height, get away from the uneven floor below him. Looking down he saw the pursuit stop abruptly at the edge of the pit and stare down in wonder, then up at him, hearing the swish of feathers through air, and so stunned by the sight of Bartleby aloft that they failed to notice Loki sprinting up behind them. Azrael turned at the last moment, but too late to defend himself, and with a businesslike twist, Loki broke his neck, dropped the already disintegrating body, and advanced towards the Triplets, fury in his eyes. Bartleby, Watcher abilities miraculously restored, realised that Loki hadn't seen him flying, had only heard the yell that escaped him as he plunged over the edge of the pit.

He thinks I've died . . .

'Loki! Up here!' he called, cradling the baby carefully. Loki looked up.

'Bartleby! I thought you'd - '

'Look out!' A Triplet raised his stick to deal a blow to Loki's head - but one of the others grabbed it, and pulled it back through the tear in the dimensions that it had made. Loki ran off into the trees, chasing the last one, which hadn't made it through the portal. Of the Golgothan nothing could be seen. Slowly, however, through the trees came Bob and Jay, carrying Bethany, with Metatron, his suit beyond all repair, bringing up the rear.

'My baby!' cried Bethany, holding her arms up. Unwilling to leave the sky – how had he forgotten how good it felt to fly? – Bartleby nevertheless descended, folding his wings. He handed over the messy bundle of flesh.

'Is it a boy or a girl?' asked Jay.

'I, I don't know' said Bartleby with some chagrin. 'I never thought to check.'

'It's a boy.' said Metatron, and he smiled; a rare occurrence. 'Any thoughts on names, Bethany?'

'I'm not sure.' she said distractedly, gazing down on her son. 'I was thinking-'

But the name she was about to suggest was lost when Loki came pounding up the track they'd made, waving a battered and broken hockey stick in his hand. He collided with Bartleby, unable to stop himself or slow down. The two of them collapsed into a crying, kissing heap on the edge of the pit. Metatron, Bethany, Jay and Bob exchanged glances, and smiled.

'I was thinking' Bethany started again 'maybe Ben?'

The End