iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 2: A Little Dinner Conversation

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iGuess by now you know iDon't own iCarly. If not, then iDon't.

Just so's we're iClear.

Hyuk!

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Chapter 2: A Little Dinner Conversation

For a brief moment, everyone was stunned, shocked expressions on their faces. Then Grif made a bit of a choking sound. "Uh, uhm, U-uncle, that, that was, perhaps an unfortunate, and, and even misleading choice of words…."

"But no less true. I mean that in no vulgar sense. Here, Miss Shay. Sit here, by me. We've much to discuss, you and I."

Carly sat. She couldn't get over that she was sitting right next to an actual angel. Not even a little bit like the pictographs and paintings. Sitting next to Jemiah was like sitting next to a living thunderbolt.

"You are wondering," he suddenly said, "why I have insisted upon this meeting. And so early in your relationship—at least, in your relationship as it currently is. All that will be revealed." He nodded to Maggie and Gryphon. "I sense the same confusion in the both of you.

"But what will transpire here tonight will reverberate down through the Ages of Man, and may well affect how those Ages pass. Nor am I being overly melodramatic. If anything, I am understating the case." He turned to Carly. "Miss Shay. What do you think of my nephew? Not as an angel, nor as a man, but as…himself?"

Carly thought. Maybe she was getting used to all the shocks this evening. "I'm not sure I know what you're asking."

"To put it another way, now that you know of his true nature…now what?"

Their food arrived. They took a moment to begin eating, and Carly wasn't overly surprised that there was no alcoholic drinks offered. Somehow the idea of a drunk angel was both funny and terrifying, at the same time. (Could angels even get drunk?) The food itself seemed to be a kind of quiche, of a superb quality. The word "heavenly" came to mind…

Right then, Carly made a decision. She wasn't about to be cowed by these beings…Uncle Jemiah especially. Maybe he was trying to psych her out or something…well, it wasn't gonna work. She wouldn't let him scare her.

After all, what was the worst he could do to her?

Ah, well, scratch that.

"To return to my question," Jemiah rumbled, "It is very much the right time to ask it. Soon, you will return to your apartment. Your friend Sam will ask you how your evening was, how your date went. She doesn't know anything about the tiff you two had, nor its—for you, startling—conclusion. What will you tell her? You, who share all with her?" And here he again gave Carly a look that seemed like a physical force.

What, indeed, would she say? Sam could easily be there, waiting for her when she returned. What would she tell her? "Well, see, Sam, it's like this…Grif's an angel—no, not a Hell's Angel, a—no, that's not the name of a rock group he's in, he's a—no, not that, either! Will you please just sit still for a minute! I'll explain everything! He and his whole family are angels, like, like with wings angels, angels that fly in the sky, and he's decided to remain here, Earthbound, the only partially-Fallen angel in existence, to be Earth's personal guardian angel…." Yeah, that made for a really great start. She was having a hard time wrapping her own mind around all that, and she'd been there.

But even scarier was the part of the above rough draft that she felt compelled to put in for some reason: "Oh, and I might'a kinda got engaged last night."

Holy crap.

Er, maybe Good grief would make a better expostulation.

"To return to my question, young Miss Shay…what I ask you is what you will be, what you have been, asking of yourself. I believe humans occasionally refer to it as a consequences sort of question. 'What have I gotten myself into?' sort of question."

"I…see. I think. So you're asking…am I serious about this? Am I in this for the long haul? The duration, so to speak?"

"As you say, the duration. Regardless of what that duration may be."

"Alright." She shot a quick glance over to Grif. He was watching her, and his expression said, be careful, Carly. "I'll put it to you this way: I think I'm in it for keeps. Is that what you want to know?"

"And yet," rumbled Jemiah, "'twas not long ago that you dared to express amusement at his choice of hobbies."

"That was then."

"And what has changed since?"

Carly lifted her head, looking Jemiah in the eye. She found she had to work at it, but she did it. "I've changed. I took a look at the sort of person who'd do that, and decided I didn't like that sort of person. And I was the only person who could do anything about that.

"Sometimes we have to make a mistake in order to realize that it is a mistake. And sometimes…sometimes, we get the chance to correct it. It's called growth."

For a brief moment, Jemiah held her gaze, and it seemed to Carly that she could see a huge light shining behind and throughout him, a visible, palpable Power shining through him, like the sun shining through a thunderstorm. There was moment when it seemed that the mortal world and everything in it was so very ephemeral, like images reflected on smoke: nothing but fleeting images that are there one moment, then gone the next, with only the Eternal remaining. Then the moment was gone. "Well spoken," he said. "Well spoken, indeed." He turned to his plate. "I would charge you to remember those words." Carly gulped silently. What had just happened? She stole a quick look at Gryphon and Maggie. Grif smiled and nodded encouragement; Aunt Maggie also smiled, twirling her glass of iced distilled water.

She couldn't deny the reality that Uncle Jemiah had spoken of. What was Grif, to her? Husband material? Was she ready for that? And yet…and yet, how could he be anything less, after all they'd been through? "I know, sir, that there'll be many things we'll have to talk about, Grif and I. But…" And here she cast a thoughtful look at him. "Somehow I get the impression there's something more you wanted to bring to my—our—attention. Or am I wrong?"

Now Uncle Jemiah actually smiled. "There is. May I compliment you, nephew, on your taste? The one you love has an extraordinarily sharp mind."

"Thank you, Uncle."

"Which she will need. Now, Miss Shay: to the purpose of this dinner, of which there will be others: you know of Gryphon's true nature. Even in his current, semi-Fallen state, he is still of the Host of the Dominion, the Lordships, Second Highest in all the angelic spheres. How much of his identity will you share with your friends?"

After a moment, Carly nodded. This had actually been on her mind, fleetingly. But she'd need all her wits about her, because she was essentially on a kind of trial here, to determine her worthiness. "I understand your concerns. I saw, when Aunt Maggie—er, I'm sorry, Maggie, I didn't mean to use a too familiar term-*"

"That's quite alright, Carly."

"Anyway, I saw in there about how, in the past, angels had been mistaken for gods, and worshipped. And I sorta saw some of why this shouldn't be….or did I?"

"If you saw that, in most human religions, control is the key, then yes, you did. All human religions exert, or attempt to exert, some sort of social control over humans. Most of the time this is no bad thing.

"But in some cases, it can become one. Much innocent blood has been shed in the name of religion. And, it should be noted, this control is intended to work both ways."

"Uh, say what?"

"Consider. Those in the religious hierarchy control those underneath them, socially, with threats of punishments and promises of rewards. Well and good; most social systems here in the mortal world work in much the same way. One can hardly expect anything radically different from any people trapped in such a cycle of time.

"But it is frequently presumed that those worshipped either need or enjoy being worshipped. So those in control of said worship may seek to extend their control to those above them: the very beings or Being they claim to worship. By withholding said worship—or by other means-if certain conditions are not met.

"There is a human saying: something for something, nothing for nothing. Left to itself, this saying can lead to untold misery."

Carly thought hard. Unnoticed, Grif and Maggie exchanged glances. "Sooo….what you're getting at is…me or someone trying to take advantage of…of Grif's powers? Get him to do things?"

Jemiah steepled his fingers before him. "You needn't be offended; it is a legitimate concern. Also you. Someone may wish to take advantage of your relationship with him. Should knowledge of who and what he is become commonplace, you could find yourself in danger. Considerable danger."

Gulp. Considering the stakes…angelic power…that kind of power at someone's, some mortal's fingertips… She nodded. "Yeah—uh, I mean, yes, sir. The whole 'secret identity' thing, I mean, fictional super heroes. Except now it's real, isn't it? And, and way more than… But how much do I tell them? I mean, I tell Sam everything…and Spencer's my brother…Freddy I could maybe keep in the dark, but…"

"But if you do not 'come clean' with all your friends, when, not if, this matter becomes known, they will want to know why you did not tell them to begin with. And would they be right to wonder?

"They might ask what kind of a friend you were, not to trust them.

"And they, too, may be targeted, in an attempt to exert some control over Gryphon. Nor would ignorance necessarily shield them.

"You see, these rules such as we have were not put into place for no reason, or simply because we loved making up rules just to make others miserable. Quite the opposite. There is a very good reason why things are the way they are. But things…are no longer the way they were." And for a brief moment, Jemiah's air of invincibility softened somewhat, and Carly could see the shadow of someone who'd seen the results, the horrendous results, of bad decisions, bad decisions made at the cosmic level. "And decisions made tonight will affect Ages yet to be."

Grif saw Carly back to her apartment. It had been an evening, and Carly felt like her brain had been given a radical workout. There really were only two options: tell no one, or tell just a chosen few, cross your fingers and hope for the best. "I'm sorry, Carly. I feel like I've dragged you into a real mess." The two were still in formal dress; the storm outside was fading, but it was approaching midnight.

"Grif, you didn't 'drag' me anywhere. I went where I went because I wanted to. So don't even get me started." She bit her lip. "But your uncle's right. I don't suppose you'd happen to have any, like, angelic advice to offer?"

He shrugged. "I've never heard of this sort of thing happening. I mean…we, we just never…you know."

She sighed, and led him over to the couch. Sat beside him, and pulled her legs up under her, her arm propped on the backrest. She was still in the gown Aunt Maggie had conjured up for her. In the back of her mind, she wondered how she'd explain to Spencer—or any of them—how she came into possession of a dress worth more than the entire apartment they lived in. "Yeah, that'd make it too easy, I guess. I guess I'll just have to think about it."

He stood up. "Well, I should be going. You're tired, and tomorrow's a school day. So…see you later?"

She stood up in front of him, putting her arms around him and drawing him into a kiss. "You know it."

Back at Chez Lounge, Uncle Jemiah was still sitting in his seat. Another tuxedo-wearing person came in and stood by Jemiah. "How did it go, sir?"

"Better. Better than I had any right to expect." He sighed, a look of discouragement touching momentarily upon his granite-like features. "Ages come, and Ages go, Jalial. Another Age approaches even as we speak.

"I sincerely hope it will not be an Age such as the last one."

To be continued…