Author's Note: Thank you to all of you awesome folks who reviewed!

To MissMelysse: Thank you :). I may have moved on, but I never forgot this- who could?

To wee-me: He would still love her if she was decapitated! And yes, between us, Lydia hasn't gotten much slack ;)

To Kawaii Usagi Chan San: Thanks! I hope to post this up at pretty regular intervals.

To mywickedlyweirdnature: Sorry about the cliffies. But, not sorry! Heh heh heh...

To Doormouse: Thank you :D The stock room thing made me laugh, girl.

They had come upon him without warning.

Truthfully, he hadn't been paying attention, crowing over his latest prize for the home he now shared with Lydia. She adored pretty things (although she often made him take them back), but this was truly a treasure for a goddess. Light scintillated off the surface the bowl like sunshine over clear, rippling water, which in fact was what the bowl was made of. It danced in his hands. Now that he thought about it, it was the treasure of a goddess, though he was sure Oshun wouldn't miss it. Well, pretty sure. She would almost certainly be distracted by the tiger in her bathroom.

A crack sounded like snapping glass all around him. Before he knew what was happening, the bowl dropped from fingers suddenly numb with a binding that he was not quick enough to thwart. The last thing he heard was the delicate explosion of crystalline water shattering against the flat concrete ground. The last thing he saw was the shimmering light of a wormhole that he hadn't opened. Then, silence. Then, darkness.

When he woke, he could feel a cool wash of air on his face, tinged heavily with cigarette smoke. He opened his eyes, but could see nothing besides a faint haze that felt like a hangover. Except it wasn't a hangover, since he didn't remember enjoying himself at all.

"Where'm I?" His throat felt like he had gargled with rusty bottle caps. Maybe it was a hangover?

"Not where you want to be." He knew that voice well, but something was different. The normally harsh, heavily sarcastic tone of his former partner was subdued. He peered around and discovered Juno sitting in a straight-backed chair not a foot in front of him. Their knees were touching, even. She was smoking, and she scowled, but somehow he knew it wasn't directed at him this time. "You've been sequestered."

He squeezed his eyes shut, and then tried to rub them, but found he couldn't move his hands. He settled for rubbing his nose against his shoulder. "Who by?" He knew already- it would take some pretty powerful Juice to knock him out, if he did say so himself. But he was a masochist- he just wanted to hear the name.

"Barnabas, as if you didn't already know, you idiot." That last was said with vitriol, and he winced out of long practice. She stubbed out her cigarette on a new one, and took a long drag on it. "You really are the dumbest ghost I know."

Betelgeuse didn't contest that. "What'r the charges?"

Juno gave him a wry look. "I don't suppose you remember the "Mackerel Incident?" His lips twisted up in a war to suppress a grin. "Or the time with the poor people in Dharavi, when all the thread in the factory turned into spaghetti?"

"He was exploiting those poor people!" His face was a mask of injured righteousness. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Or the time with the llamas?"

Betelgeuse scowled. "Okay, okay, so I may have made a few 'incursions' into his business practice. Big deal! He's an assh-"

Juno covered his mouth with a finger. "My point being that he has a moderately legitimate right to imprison you until time of trial..."

"This isn't about that, and you an' me both know it. He just needed an excuse so he could keep me locked up long enough to do what he's always intended to do."

"Well, you gave him no shortage of excuses!" Juno looked as if she was angry enough to smack him, but then subsided.

His thoughts went to Lydia. It must have shown on his face, and Juno replied to his unasked question.

"I'm going to meet with her. I don't know what to tell her, but she's frantic, of course." Juno scowled even more deeply- she had many layers of wrinkles to make use of, but she had to be getting toward the bottom. "But you wouldn't be thinking of that, would you... how vulnerable she is, or how determined she is to come after you? When you began this little affair?"

Betelgeuse winced, and then visibly shriveled under her continued invective. He couldn't think of a single idea in his defense. Lydia was vulnerable. "They got to her already, didn't they? That's why she didn't Call me- she couldn't." His voice tapered off. "I just played right into his creepy little hands."

Juno sighed. "It was the price of Clara's freedom, your true name. Once Barnabas knew that she had learned it, it was only a matter of negotiation of terms- a few bribes here, a few assassinations there. And then, once he got it, he Exterminated her, of course. I guess that's one problem down. What were you thinking, letting her go still knowing your Name? You have got to be the dum-"

Betelgeuse turned his head, looking pathetic, and Juno subsided. She must feel really sorry for him, he realized. She never missed a chance to tell him what she thought of him. "Tell Lydia to go to Oshun. That's the safest place I can think of." He regretted the tiger now, but a person couldn't go around his whole afterlife collecting favors and never spending them. Juno nodded, resigned.

"If you ever get out of this, she's going to skin you."

"Who, Oshun or Lyds?"

Juno contemplated him. "Both, I imagine." Letting that sink in, she reached over and kissed him on the forehead. "You'll be the end of us all. What would Amaterasu think?"

He peered up at her, uncomprehending, and then felt the weight of something drop into his pocket. "I have no idea," he admitted. She backed away from him then, and sighed.

"I'll be in touch, but frankly there's not a single lawyer in the entire Netherworld who will defend you against Barnabas, if you manage to survive until the trial." With that, she turned and walked out, the small door clanging shut behind her.

"Gee, thanks!" He listened to her clipped heels on the floor fading, and then added, "That was sarcasm!" All sorts of dark thoughts in his head, Betelgeuse stretched carefully and managed to slide a hand inside his coat pocket, fingering what felt like a glass disk. One side was smooth, but the other was matte. He puzzled over it, and then realized what it was- a small mirror that could be stitched into clothing. He pondered this latest development, and was comforted a small amount that at least Juno had a plan. She had a long history of getting him out of hot water. That much practice had to be good for something.