iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 13: Old Friends
…
Nope, still don't own…oh, you remember.
…
Chapter 13: Old Friends
Spencer noticed Jillian watching him. In truth, Carly had to admit, it would be hard for anyone with a set of XY chromosomes to not notice the demon girl. But knowing what she knew about her…. "Who's this, Carly?"
"Uh, her name's, uh…"
Jillian stuck out her hand in his direction. She ignored Sam completely. "I'm Jillian. And you're…Carly's brother? She didn't mention anything about you."
"Uhm, right." Spencer was pretty clearly hypnotized by Jillian's attention to him. "Are…are you a friend of Grif's?"
"She's my…uh, distant, er, cousin. Here in town for a few days." This sounded forced; Carly knew why. It went against an angel's basic nature to lie.
But Jillian also looked just a tad nauseous. "Extremely distant cousin. Very distant. In fact, I can't tell you how far apart we are." She didn't have any trouble lying.
"Yes, Jillian's staying here while she's in town." He turned his gaze on Jillian, who pretended not to notice. "Which won't be long."
"Oh, well, in that case, you have to come with us! Ever been bowling?"
"Actually, no. Sounds like fun."
Grif pulled her over to one side. "I thought you agreed no tricks?"
"How is this a trick? I mean, he was courteous enough to ask! I haven't done anything!"
"You were going to."
"How do you know? Actually, I wasn't. But don't you think it's in keeping with your promise to keep an eye on me? After all," she glanced away, a mischievous look on her face, "There's no telling what naughtiness I might get into, all alone here and unsupervised."
"Right. Which means, I'll have to stay here to-*"
"And, besides, he invited me personally. What am I supposed to say? That you won't let me go? Won't he wonder why? For that matter, I wonder myself."
Grif thought furiously. Something told him this was the beginning of trouble, but he had to admit, she had a point. "Alright. But I saw the way you were eyeing him. Leave him alone."
"Have you forgotten you've got my promise to not try anything? And besides, I can't collect souls. I'm not allowed. Remember?"
"Grif?" Carly edged over. She could guess what the whispered conversation was about, and about the direction it was probably taking. Grif was, angel or not, a bit of a softie. And Jillian struck her as a skilled negotiator. "Grif? Is this…a good idea?"
He sighed. "Probably not. But I…maybe it won't be World War III." He turned back to Jillian. "Don't make me regret this. Remember, you need my validation, or the Black Throne will throw everything they've got at you."
"I got it, already! Now, let's go! I can't wait to see how this 'bowling' is played!"
On the way over, Sam leaned across to Carly. "Who is she, Carls?"
"Er, like Grif said, a distant cousin. Her, uhm, arrival here was totally unexpected, so she doesn't have, like, a place to stay or anything. Grif offered to let her crash on his couch. He doesn't have a guest room, you know."
Sam looked at her, her eyes narrowing. Why wasn't Carly telling her the truth? They'd been together for so long, she already knew her friend was lying, at least partially.
Well, sooner or later, she'd get the truth.
The bowling alley was only half-full, so they had their pick of the better lanes. Jillian and Spencer got a lane to themselves, so Spence could show her how to bowl. Carly wondered if he really thought he was fooling anybody.
As for Jillian, this was a new experience. Demons' natural (or, more accurately, supernatural) abilities didn't include the ability to bowl well, and none of Jillian's future selves had ever really gotten into it, so she didn't have that to draw on. Spencer took it upon himself to show her proper stance, how to grip the ball, the angle of the throw, etc. She was, of course, a very quick study, and before long, had the basics of the game mastered. But she pretended to be clumsier than she really was.
"No, you're stance is off a little. Here, I'll show you." Spencer came up behind her, with Carly looking on nervously from their alley, and got right behind her, moving her hand over the ball into the proper grip…and shaping her body into the proper stance to put just the right spin on the ball. Of course, he had to practically touch her, spoon-fashion, to show her this…
Carly got more and more nervous.
"How goes it over here?" Grif casually walked over during a brief break the others were taking. Nothing in his voice betrayed any hint of worry.
"It goes great, cuz! Thanks, Spencer! This is fun!" She laughed. "Now, what was that way of holding the ball you showed me a minute ago?"
"Uh, Spencer? Could I have a word with Jillian? Just a moment?"
"Oh, uh, okay. I could use a break, myself."
Grif drew a clearly disappointed Jillian over to one side. "What are you doing?!"
She actually had the nerve to look surprised. "Why, I'm learning how to bowl, of course. Spencer's a really good teacher." She cast another glance over towards Carly's brother, who was gulping out of a sports bottle. Her look had nothing to do with the normal appreciation one shows a good teacher. She saw Grif's look. "I'm not using any powers or anything. You'd know if I was. He just wants to show me how to bowl. How can that be wrong?"
Grif thought. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind what the demon girl was doing, but what to do about it? Spencer was attracted to her, and she was encouraging that…but in a perfectly human way. He couldn't, according to the very rules he'd laid down, object to that. "Don't hurt him. In any way."
"What? Me, hurt him? Never! I just…wanna have a little fun. Just like a human would. Nothing wrong with that, surely!"
While they talked, Carly sat with Sam in their alley. Freddie had been unable to join them, and Sam was feeling the loss, though she'd sooner die than admit it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wished Devlin would "just happen" to wander in…but this really wasn't his type of sport. Hm. Maybe she should give him a call?
But while she sat there, she decided it was time to have it out with Carly. "When you gonna tell me the truth, Carls?"
"Huh?"
"About Jillian. There's way more to her than you're telling me. So, while we've got a moment, spill."
Pause. "Do you believe that Grif's an angel?"
Now it was Sam's turn to think. "Not sure. Okay, that paper test was convincing, I admit. But-*"
"No buts, Sam. I'm tired of buts. Either you believe he's an angel, an angel from a place that might as well be heaven, or this whole past few months has been a delusion, and you're in a hospital somewhere, in a thorazine coma, dreaming the whole thing. So choose. Choose now."
Sam backed up a little. She'd never seen Carly so…determined. So sure. "Okay. I…believe. As you say, it's either all true, or none of it's true. Okay, so let's say I'm in. Now. Is Jillian another angel?"
Carly sighed. "No, just the opposite. She's a demon."
"A demon."
"Yes."
"A real demon."
"Yes."
"Like, a demon from Hell type demon?"
"Again, yes."
"She doesn't look like a demon."
"What's a demon supposed to look like?"
"Uhm. Good point. What's she doing here?"
"Grif rescued her from the Darkness."
"That horrible place you told me about? I thought that was supposed to be Hell."
"No, Hell's a different place. The Darkness is actually worse."
"I thought demons and angels were, like, enemies, or something."
"They are. That's the problem."
Sam studied the scenario before her. "She's sure makin' a play for Spencer."
"And, of course, like any other man, he totally doesn't see it."
"And she's, what? Out to, to get him, in some way? Take over his body?"
"Doesn't work like that. But she may be after his soul."
Sam gasped. "She can do that?"
"She says not. But Grif seems to be altogether too nervous for her to be completely harmless."
"So….what now? What do we do?"
Carly sighed. "Now, nothing. Just get through the evening, and get her back to Grif's apartment, and hope her people come and get her soon. The sooner they do…" She glanced over at Spencer and Jillian, who were sitting just a little too close together for Carly's total comfort.
….
{{Nephew}}
{{Yes, Uncle Darian?}} Devlin was busy tidying up some accounts for the Committee on Mergers and Acquisitions. He was a natural at this.
{{It would seem that your errant…associate has managed to get herself in the midst of a problem, yet again.}}
{{You don't mean Jillian, do you? Not her! That demon's trouble, no matter how you look at it. I thought she'd been demoted to lava field guard?}}
{{I do and she was. But she somehow managed to find her way into the Darkness, only to be pulled out of it by none other than your target Sam's best friend's boyfriend, who just so happens to be Gryphon Stryder, Earth's self-appointed guardian angel. She's having to stay at his place until we can reclaim her. That is, assuming we decide we even want her back.
{{I don't suppose I have to tell you how this complicates matters.}}
Devlin groaned and squeezed the bridge of his nose, hard. He honestly didn't see how things could get more messed up. {{That little screw-up. If she costs me Sam's soul, I swear I'll….I don't know, but I'll think of something. What do you wish me to do about it?}}
{{For the moment, nothing. We are in the midst of conferring with the Black Throne to see precisely what we'll do. This…affair does not appear to have resulted from any wrongdoing on her part, and may even have had the beneficial effect of alerting us to an intrusion into our universe by the Darkness, so we can scarcely blame her for that. But, as you say, she's trouble. If she gets a look at you, she'll immediately know who you are, would deduce your goals and intentions, and probably seek to blackmail you with that information. So that is something you'll need to factor into your plans.}}
{{Indeed it is. Well. I had intended to tell Sam the truth anyway, before long. Perhaps this is as good a time as any. That will leave me free to drag that little imp back to the lava field where she be-*}}
{{You'll take no action until I hear from the Black Throne. That may mean an alteration in your plans of seeing Sam, however, since she and Carly are so frequently together. And now, of course, Carly's angel boyfriend. If he sees you in Sam's mind, he'll suspect something. And if he sees you in person…}}
Devlin sighed, a very human gesture. {{I understand, Uncle. I shall await your instructions.}}
Back at the bowling alley: The gang had finished up their match, and were relaxing in the refreshment stand. Jillian found herself wishing for some more of that angel stuff with real ingredients. Though this wasn't bad.
Just to annoy Grif, she sat right by him and Carly, with Spencer on the other side. "Well, I can't say when I've had more fun, cuz," she said, winking at Grif, whose eyes promised retribution. She wasn't worried. "Thanks, Spencie. I've never bowled before."
"'Spencie'?" asked Carly, her eyebrow arching upward.
"Oh, just a pet name I have for your brother. You don't mind, do you, Spencie?" Spencer looked like he was ready for the collar and the leash.
The tension between Jillian and Carly grew perceptibly. Jillian loved every second of it. But then, she saw someone, just getting ready to head out….someone she knew. "Pardon me a moment," said Jillian, "Which way's the restroom?"
Over by the door: a well-dressed man in his late sixties was making sure his granddaughters' jackets were buttoned up, and had fastened their shoes correctly. The youngest was a cute blond girl, with a head of curly hair, and a tomboyish attitude. "Aw, grandpop! We know how to tie our shoes!"
"Just making sure." Then he called for a cab, it being rather late.
"Hey, Roger," said a familiar voice behind and beside him.
He turned. It couldn't be….but he'd remember that voice if he lived to be a thousand. "Jillian? Jillian? Is that you?"
Her smile was almost bittersweet. "Yeah. It's me."
He was flabbergasted. The last time he'd seen her was nearly fifty years ago, yet she hadn't aged a day. Well, of course not, he mentally kicked himself, her kind don't age. "I….what…I mean…." He couldn't think where to begin.
"Who's this, grandpop? She's pretty."
"Uh, this is an old friend of mine, girls. Jillian? You…you're looking great…"
"Thanks." She glanced down at her feet. "About what happened…I got…intercepted. Things didn't go well for me, and, well, I got demoted. So I couldn't come back for you. Sorry about that."
"Oh. I…wondered, but, of course, I had no way of, of knowing. Are…are you alright?" She saw the look in his eyes. Still something there, after all this time.
"I'm fine." She glanced at his granddaughters. "But things are different for us both now. Now I can't collect…you know. And I know you've moved on."
"Uh, yeah. I, I have." He hesitated. This was kinda awkward. "Well, I, uh, have to get the girls back. Their mother will give me He—*, uh, I mean, give me grief if I don't get 'em in by bedtime."
"Yeah. Well, just wanted to let you know…I remembered."
Now he smiled his own bittersweet smile. "You know what? Maybe that's what it's all really about, anyway. Somebody to remember us, after."
Maybe it is.
She followed them out into the street, at a distance, the cool night air caressing her cheek. Forty-seven years…he'd almost been her first.
Then she saw the scarred up minivan pulling in closer. Her own vision, like Grif's, could determine far more than mere photon interference. She could see into the souls of the men in the van. A kidnapping attempt?
Oh, Home, no. "No, you don't! He's mine!" And she stepped out into the street and gave the van a perfectly timed kick…
With a resounding booom, the van lifted off the ground as though a bomb had gone off beneath it, flying across the street, turning over and over, crashing into the side of the Savings and Loan building on the far side. The men inside were still alive, but they wouldn't be going anywhere under their own power anytime soon.
She gave a stunned Roger a push. "Go on, get your girls to safety. Go." She saw then off into the cab, then turned as the first police car arrived. She slipped back into the bowling alley, unnoticed.
Rejoining the group at the refreshment stand, she was rewarded by a suspicious look from Grif. He glanced out toward the street, turned back to her with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. She knew he'd scanned and perceived the incident outside. Probably give her grief when he got her alone. Ah, so what else was new. "Well, I suppose we'd best be going," he said, getting up. The others followed.
"So soon?" Jillian pouted. "I was just starting to have fun."
He leaned closer, and whispered. "You have much more 'fun' like that, and the mortals will call out the military. They might, anyway." He turned to the others. "Follow me."
Leading them out into the street, Carly and the rest—except for Jillian—stared and rubbernecked at the van, still on its side on the far side of the street. An ambulance had pulled up, and the medics were busy using the "jaws of life" to prize open a door. The police had formed a cordon around it.
Grif led them down the street. Nobody seemed to notice them; in fact, they passed right through the middle of the crowd without anyone so much as looking at them.
Grif's apartment: Sam and a reluctant Spencer had excused themselves, with Carly telling them she'd join them back at the apartment shortly. "Okay," Grif said, addressing Jillian, who was seated on the couch. "What was that all about?"
"What, don't you know? I thought you angels had that, like, special sight."
"We do. Who was that man you went up to?"
She sighed. "His name's Roger Talltree. Forty-seven years ago…he was nearly my first soul. That's who. And those were his granddaughters with him."
"I see. And you just went up to speak, huh?"
"Well, yeah. What's wrong with that? He was nearly my first! That's…important to us. But I guess you couldn't know that."
"Drawing attention to yourself…."
"Would you really rather I'd let somebody put the snatch on his grandkids? C'mon. Cut me some slack here."
"Grif, I hate to say it, but…" Carly didn't want to take sides in this, but she found herself actually siding with Jillian, at least with her stated intentions.
I'm actually siding with a demon from Hell against my angel boyfriend. Talk about messed up.
He calmed down, however. "To be honest…I can't condemn your actions. I just wish you'd been a little less….obvious."
"Trust me, nobody saw anything they'll believe. Except Roger, of course. And…and I trust him." She looked down at her hands in her lap, her expression unreadable.
"Alright. Well, Carly, I guess I'd best be getting you home. Jillian, you've the run of the apartment, but don't leave. I'll stop by Chez Lounge and get you something to eat on the way back. Remember what I said about the rules."
"Okay, okay, already. Geez. I got it the first dozen times." After they'd left, she picked up the remote for the TV, and, bored almost to tears, flicked through the channels, for lack of anything better to do.
She came across a zombie marathon, 28 Days Later, World War Z, and George Romero's classic Night of the Living Dead, shown back to back along with its many sequels. Immediately, she perked up. "Oh, good. The comedy channel."
To be continued….
