"Any news from the dream team?" Beth inquired, letting an open book slip from her fingers and slam to the table. The Great Search for a Way to Free the Godly Maeaonis had begun, and they were off to a rousing stop. Just about every book they had that was as old as dirt was about as helpful as dirt.
Nadja jumped when the book landed, shooting Beth a dirty look. "Is that what we're calling them?" she asked, flicking a page, her eyes only roaming over the words, but not actually reading them. Behind her, Maea paced the floor, occasionally glancing at the metal bands on her wrists and staring out the window. "And no. Zack still hasn't said anything about the pizza."
"This is what we get for sending him with Daniel," Beth said. "That boy can't pick a topping to save his life and Zack isn't decisive enough to just get Italian or something."
The floorboards creaked as Giles came back into the room, phone in hand. "Willow just called," he announced as he entered the room. Buffy, who'd been watching Maea moving with a bored expression, finally perked up.
"What'd she say?" she demanded, crowding Giles almost immediately.
Sighing, he stepped around Buffy, coming to perch himself on the table where Beth and Nadja were sitting. "Both she and Andrew have been in communication with Drogyn," he began.
"Who?" Nadja asked.
"He guards the Deeper Well," Maea stated, finally stopping her pace. "Of what use is he?"
"The Deeper Well?" Nadja asked, her head now looking back and forth between the two.
"The Deeper Well is where numerous earthly gods were confined within coffins following their demise," he explained. "Drogyn the Battlebrand has been tasked with guarding it."
"I do not wish to simply stick my brother in a coffin," Maea pointed out.
"I thought the whole point was to kill him," Nadja remembered.
"The coffins don't mean they're dead," Beth told her. "They're more like…sleeping pods."
"The gods can be brought back from their confinements," Giles added.
"And I wish for Roth to never come back," Maea said.
Growing somewhat irritated, Giles pulled his glasses off his face. "The Deeper Well is the closest understanding we have to confining a god."
"But Maea isn't out of commission entirely," Beth pointed out.
"That is true, but that only means the magic binding her is far weaker," he explained. "Only one god to our knowledge has left the Deeper Well."
"And if we figure out how that worked, we can free Maea," Beth concluded. "Can we ask them?"
Maea snorted. "You want to ask an Old One something? You're better off forcing a feral cat into voluntarily taking a bath. Your time would be better well-spent."
"Illyria is the only one who has ever been released," Giles reminded them.
"And she's on an inter-dimensional journey right now," Buffy added.
"Meaning you have no idea where she is," Beth translated. "Doesn't she think Dad is like her pet or something? Doesn't she know you have to feed pets and stuff? Shouldn't she visit to check up on him?"
Buffy made a face. "I'd rather she not, actually. I'm taking care of him just fine."
"If we may move on," Giles asked dryly.
"Illyria's release was pre-ordained, set up by her followers long before I ever arrived on this plane," Maea stated. "Whatever magic they used to plan all of this is no doubt very old."
"It's a start," Giles told her. "Without it, we have nothing else to go on. And after the research I have done looking into your brother, I am starting to believe you may be the only being capable of defeating him. He is—to say the least—dangerous." He turned to Buffy, a concerned look on his face, "I do not think it would be best for you to engage with him."
"I defeated Glory, didn't I?" she rebutted. "How hard can he be?"
"Much," Maea answered.
"She's correct," Giles agreed. "Glory was a hell-god. Virothan is…something else entirely."
"Both are immortals with heads too big for their bodies," Buffy said in return. "They don't sound that different to me."
"Glory was confined to a human body. She was inherently weaker in that form," Maea explained. "And hell-gods are usually an inferior sub-species of gods. What do you think drives them to run such terrible places? It's a damaged ego."
"Virothan will be, without a doubt, the hardest challenge you have ever faced," Giles told her gravely before turning to Beth. "And you—you've never been up against anything like this. James wouldn't have stood a chance against Virothan and he managed to drug you."
"Hey! He pulled the rug out from under me!" Beth protested. "I totally could have kicked his arse if he hadn't played dirty."
Giles' face was blank. "That does not bring me any comfort," he stated.
"Besides, it's Maea who's supposed to do the final show-down with Virothan," Beth reminded him. "We're just here to take on his very mortal army."
"Speaking of an army," Nadja cut in. "Are we bringing in the slayers?"
"I am prepared to send as large a troupe as we can afford," Giles answered. "Unfortunately, an irate god does not mean everyone else stops trying to destroy the world."
"He's just the one who's most likely to succeed," Beth deadpanned.
"Unfortunately so," he muttered.
"His approach draws nearer," Maea said. "I can feel it."
"Well, as long as Virothan doesn't get in before this weekend," Beth said. "I've got a season finale this Sunday evening, which I am not missing for the world."
"We're back!" Zack announced, coming into the library with boxes of pizza, Daniel right behind him. "Sorry we took so long. Daniel debated the merits of fruit on pizza."
"I came to the decision that pizza was meant to be savory, not sweet," Daniel stated.
"So you didn't get me pineapple?" Nadja whined, standing up. "I specifically asked for that!"
"It was an executive decision," Daniel told her.
"So, any headway?" Zack asked, coming to sit on the armrest of Beth's chair. Normally, had Spike been in the room, he'd have been on the opposing wall. But with it just being Buffy, he felt safe to sit beside his girlfriend. There might have even been a smile and some sneaked looks from the mom.
"No, more back-and-forth on how screwed we are," Nadja said, pouting as she looked at the pizzas. She let the lid of one drop before turning to Giles. "In your own professional opinion, how screwed are we?"
"As the Americans say, totally," he retorted.
"All the research in the world only focuses on containing a god," Beth told him. "For obvious reasons, they have very little concern with freeing one."
"Someone somewhere must have," Zack hypothesized.
"They have, but it was planned years in advance," Nadja answered.
"Talking trillions," Beth added.
"And she was of this plane," Maea tacked on. "Illyria's situation is different from mine. Glory's is as well. She herself was never able to even free her constraints entirely. I am not of this world, no matter how long I have been here."
"So, we'd need something from your home world then," Zack realized. "I'm guessing you didn't bring like a necklace or something?"
"No," she said, glaring at him.
"Just trying to help," he murmured, throwing up his hands.
"Do we even have something here to kill him?" Nadja asked. "Because right now we're looking at a brick wall in terms of freeing you. Would it not just be best to find some underground bunker to hide in and wait until we can come up with a real solution?"
"People of my kind can only be killed in a very limited way," Maea stated.
"A weapon made for a god," Buffy answered and she nodded.
"I only know of one and you already have possession of it," she finished.
"We do?" Beth asked, perking up. "What's—oh, you mean the scythe? But that's just a slayer scythe. It's never been used by a god."
Maea smiled. "A godly weapon does not need to be utilized by a god," she explained. "It only needs to be made by one."
"You know of the origins of the scythe?" Giles inquired, interest coloring his voice.
Maea shrugged. "It was a story told to me when I was a child. It was considered a rumor, but it was of great intrigue, so it was oftentimes repeated. You see, where I am from, our weapons are connected to our strengths. In my case, that is very literal, but it means that our greatest source of power is where we excel—it could be intelligence as easily as it could be kindness or a sense of humor."
"Ah, look Zack, they could even make a weapon for you," Nadja joked.
"There was a story about a great warrior who fell in love with a mortal," Maea continued. "He saw her battling against her greatest foe and he was immediately captivated."
"By her own strength?" Buffy asked.
"No, by her perseverance," Maea corrected. "Slayers are strong, but even more than that, you fight despite great odds. Your love for humanity and your desire to fight until your last breath is what makes you strong. It was why I worked with Yuki all those years ago. I was captivated in the same way as he had been. Though I could not forge a weapon as he had, I stayed beside her, hoping my strength could be hers. I should have known better."
"So this god-man made the scythe?" Beth inquired.
"No, I believe someone else did," Maea told her. "But he made it for her, in the same fashion his own weapon was forged and as mine was. He gave it to her, as he knew he could not always be there to make sure she was safe. It was meant to protect her. But as I had, he did not fully understand the nature of a slayer. Until rather recently, they were not meant to live long."
"Tell me about it," Buffy snorted.
"When he returned to her plane, she was dead, and the weapon was gone," Maea finished. "See, I think what he did not know was that the power of a slayer—the very thing that attracted him and from which the weapon was connected to—is the essence that connects all slayers across time and space. You can use the scythe because it was made to be used by a slayer, not a single person."
"And you say this is all a story where you are from?" Giles asked.
She nodded. "A fairytale," she agreed. "It was a love story my mother told me and my brothers before bed. We had no reason to believe it true. It is forbidden for a god to love a mortal. It was some illicit affair to us, truly a sign that love could transcend all boundaries. It was not until last year that I realized that even if the story was made-up for our entertainment, there was some truth to it. The scythe is real and it could very easily be used to kill my brother."
"And what about your own weapon?" Daniel asked. "You mentioned you had one."
The question brought an agitated look onto Maea's face. "It was taken from me when I got these," she told him, lifting her arms. "Abe stole it from before he bound me. I assume to be more of an ass than he already was."
"Could you use the slayer scythe to fight him?" Nadja asked.
"Not very well," she decided. "While I could assist Beth in using it against Baba, alone I could not wield it to its full potential. While it may be a god weapon, it is not connected to me. It's why the both of you can feel a sense of ownership to it, while I cannot."
"Well could I then unlock its full potential?" Buffy asked. "I know you want to kill your brother, but I just want to take him out quickly, before he leaves a crater here or something."
"I'm not sure," Maea admitted. "While it is a slayer weapon, you are still not a god. And besides, the slayer essence is now spread out through hundreds of girls. I don't know what sort of effect that could have."
"I can imagine that would be detrimental for its use," Giles mused. "We could still try, could we not?"
"I could attempt to assist Buffy in using it," Maea offered.
"Hey, what about me?" Beth whined.
Buffy laughed. "After your run-in with Abechius, you think I'm letting you anywhere near either of them? I'm your mother, don't be ridiculous. I'd ship you back to Scotland if I thought I could."
"What, all the other slayers can fight, but I can't?" Beth complained.
"I didn't say I was going to," her mother said. "While I may want it, I know that you're a slayer, like me. I can want to keep you away with all of my heart and all of my instinct, but I know it would kill you to not be there. The least I can do is keep you away from the bigger kids, alright?"
"Your mother is the best option," Giles reasoned. "She's the longest-lived slayer and she has experience dealing with matters like this. Whether you like it or not, you are still only in field training, Beth."
"I'm almost done!" she pointed out.
"Only once I assess you, and not a moment before," he corrected and she huffed, sinking back down into her seat.
"Hey, Beth, can I talk to you for a moment?" Zack asked.
"Uh, sure," she said, not moving up from her seat.
He glanced around the room. "Privately?" he added and she sighed.
"Shoo, go have your lover's moment," Nadja told her. "Business is happening here."
"Fine, I'm getting up," she grumbled, following Zack out into the hallway. He came to a stop beside the stairwell, probably what he thought was an acceptable distance from the rest (it probably was, although she still wasn't entirely certain of how well Maea could actually hear). She was set to tease him about wanting to have a private moment with her, but the look on his face made her think a jab wouldn't be well-received.
"What's got you?" she asked, reaching out to rub his arm. "I mean, I know it must suck since you just got back and with this whole Virothan thing, we haven't had much 'us' time—"
He shook his head. "It's not that," he told her.
"Well," she huffed, trying (and failing) to not be hurt by that. "I like spending alone time with you, but I guess some of us—"
"That's not what I meant," he told her mildly. "I just wanted to say—look, I know you're all gung-ho about this upcoming fight with Maea's brother, and I wanted to say to you to be careful," he told her, exhaling loudly after he said it, like some large weight was lifted from his shoulders.
Frowning, and offended, she responded, "Excuse me? What, like I'm not careful normally? I will have you know that I am the most careful person in the world. And furthermore—!"
"That's not what I meant," he interrupted irritably. "I know you can be careful, Beth. You were trained by two people who are most invested in your livelihood. But I also know you sometimes act like a loose cannon."
She paused, head tilted, deciding if she even had the grounds on which to disagree. "Can't argue with that, seeing as my dad says that quite often, and he knows a loose cannon when he sees one," she finally relented.
"I've just got this bad feeling about all of this," he confessed.
She studied him. "What kind of feeling? Like a gut feeling or more premonition-y?"
"I don't know," he admitted, reaching up to run his hands through his hair and make it even more disarrayed. "Ever since you told me about all this, I've sometimes had these dreams. I don't know if they're real or just stress, but they freak me out, Beth. Sometimes you just get hurt, but sometimes you die. And I can't do anything to stop it."
"I'm not going to die, Zack," she told him quietly, taking a step closer and wrapping her arms around him. He leaned into her, resting his forehead on her shoulder. Quite a feat, seeing how much taller he was than her (so maybe she was on her tippy toes. You do what you gotta do). "I know this all seems so scary, but we've got this. It's not just going to be me out there. I've got my whole team with me, not to mention an army of slayers. It's going to be fine."
"How can you say that?" he mumbled.
She chuckled. "Because sometimes I get feelings too. And something tells me that I can be calm about all this because it's all going to work out. Why do you think I so fervently believe that we're going to free Maea? Because I've got a feeling, just like you do."
He sighed, taking a step back and standing up straight. He reached out to hold her hand though, squeezing it tightly. "Then just to ease my paranoid mind, promise me that you'll be careful. Listen to your mom, do as your dad says, and don't do anything that's risky."
"I promise," she assured him. "Sure, I talk big, but I'm not excited to get thrown around like a ragdoll by Abechius again any more than anyone else is. Even less since I'm the one who gets the bruises."
"So all that talk really was bravado," he said with a small grin.
"Oh yeah. If I never have to see Abechius again, it will still be too soon," she told him. "Did I tell you he wanted to keep me as a pet? Can you say creepy?"
Frowning, he said, "Now I wish I had the strength to sucker punch him."
Laughing, she reached up again to give him a slow kiss, one she was regretful to end. "Now that you got your worries off your chest and I've assuaged them, can we go back to the library?" she asked, giving him those dangerous "Summer eyes" as she tugged on his arm, pulling him back toward the library.
Hesitantly, he nodded, allowing himself to be pulled along. Her face glowed with confidence, a beautiful sight, one he wanted to believe. But he couldn't. In his mind, he could still see the vivid scenes of Seattle in ruins, and Beth disappearing into a gaping hole. Were they really dreams, or were they those fated visions Giles had searched so strongly for all those months ago?
-.-
Beth grunted as her back slammed into the wall, Margaret keeping her arm up against her throat, cutting off some of her air supply. Not enough to choke her, but enough to make a point. Beth quickly twisted her body so she could jam her knee into Margaret's side, enough to loosen her hold. She then shoved her back before aiming a fist at her face. Margaret blocked it easily, before trying to come around and put Beth into a chokehold. Before, they would have been at each other's throats, putting as much of their slayer strength into throwing one another through the wall. This time though, they kept it nice and clean, using force without causing any great injury. There wasn't even anyone around to watch them too, who could have forced them into being nice to one another. Giles had already assessed one of their sparring matches, so this one was actually just for fun. A weird thing for Beth, as things with Margaret before could never have been described as "fun."
"Time!" Margaret shouted right after Beth swept her feet out from under her, sending her to the ground. She took in gasping breaths as she tried to regain regularity.
"Didn't see that coming, did you?" Beth asked, lending out a hand to help Margaret up. She hesitated before taking it. While there was no doubt that the animosity between them had settled down (growing up and all that), there was still some hostility that sat on the back burner. They had no big problem working with one another, but they were hardly what some would call amicable. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that.
"I forget you go for the legs," Margaret replied.
She shrugged. "It's something my dad taught me. In a fight, the last thing you want to do is be on the ground. That's usually where the loser is."
Margaret made a small noise of agreement. Stretching out her arms, she began to move around the perimeter of the room. Beth watched her closely, since she looked like she wanted to say something.
"So you fought Abechius," Margaret finally stated, not once glancing over at Beth.
She sighed inwardly, but it wasn't irritably. She figured Margaret would have questions, ever since she heard about it. She also knew that Margaret was a bit put-out, since she'd missed the mini-boss battle and all that. Beth wasn't entirely sure where the envy came from, seeing as she got her ass kicked by the God of Cads. She'd think Margaret would be laughing at Beth, claiming she herself would have defeated him. Of course, that was still a possibility. Maybe Margaret had been waiting for the perfect time when they were all alone to finally bring it up.
"I did," Beth agreed. "Well, maybe not fought so much as I tried to hit him and then he would throw me."
Margaret smirked at the comment. "Did you hit him at all?"
"He blocked most of my punches," Beth informed her. "A few got passed, but it was like hitting a bowl of Jell-o or something. Sure, you made impact, but did you really do anything in the long-run?"
"You know, we had one class where we talked about gods and stuff," Margaret began. "They'd talk about your mom with Glory and the Old Ones and all that. Some of the girls would brag about how they could take down a god, just point them in the right direction. It was stupid though. Gods aren't like demons; they don't go down as easy."
Beth studied her for a moment, a thought blooming wildly in her head. "Are you scared, Margaret?" she finally asked, keeping her tone neutral. The last thing she wanted was for Margaret to get defensive, especially since she was pretty sure they were deep into unchartered territory right now.
Margaret shrugged. "My dad's a hunter. He always said that fear was what kept some of his prey alive. They'd get skittish and run, leaving the bullet for another."
"Abechius was all talk," Beth told her, sitting down on the mat, legs crossed.
"He tossed you. Twice," Margaret reminded her, no scorn in her words. "You were in recovery for three days."
"Okay, that's because my parents are like the worriest of all people," Beth told her. "I get a splinter and they want to put me in a bubble."
She snorted in amusement. "They care about you," she reminded Beth. "Besides, it's not like what we do isn't dangerous. This—this coming battle—that's dangerous. Some of us could die."
Beth thought for a moment. "So?" she asked. "A lot of the times I go out there, I think sometimes I could die. It doesn't take a giant to bring us down. It takes a mistake. And I make a lot of mistakes."
"You're taking this all very easy," Margaret commented ruefully.
She shrugged. "I come from a line of death, being a vampire and all. Maybe it's in my nature."
"It's in your nature to kill," Margaret corrected without thought.
"What's in yours then, Slayer?" Beth retorted. "To die?"
Margaret didn't respond immediately, fingering the quarter staffs sticking out of their box. "Abechius let you live this time. Do you think he'll be as merciful the next?"
"To be honest, Virothan is more of a problem than he is," Beth admitted. "He's the one I don't want to meet on a battlefield. But I also took out a guy who didn't even manifest on this plane, so who knows what I'm capable of? Look, Maea's going to do all the heavy lifting. We're fighting his army, which I have been assured is very mortal and therefore very killable."
"You've got a lot of confidence in all this," Margaret muttered.
"Yeah," she agreed. "I don't know. Something about this feels like it's supposed to happen and that everything is going to be okay, you know? Do you ever getting a feeling like that, like what's going to happen next is all going to work out?"
Margaret thought for a moment. "I remember feeling a sense of right when I became a slayer," she replied.
"Well, sort of like that, except this is more of an event," Beth told her. "I just feel like whatever happens, happens, and that it doesn't matter what we want, this is how it's supposed to go."
"So what you're saying is that if we lose astronomically, rest assured because that was supposed to happen?" Margaret asked dryly.
"I don't think we're going to lose," Beth told her. "I have a good feeling about that."
Margaret sighed heavily, coming to sit down beside Beth on the floor. "You're too weird," she stated, an amused glint in her eyes.
"I haven't exactly led the most normal of lives," Beth replied blithely. "You know, once all of this is over, we will be the most badass slayers in our graduating class. None of them will have fought a god and his army during their field training. Aren't you glad you came here?"
Margaret snorted. "Maybe," she said. "I'm still thinking about that."
"Well, I think it's better," she decided. "A lot more freedom. If you haven't noticed, Mr. Wells isn't the most…supervisory of Watchers."
"That's putting it lightly," Margaret said. "Sometimes I think even when he's here, his mind has gone."
"Oh, it more often than not has," Beth told her. "Especially if my dad's there."
Margaret let out a bark of laughter which she quickly covered. She caught eyes with Beth though, and the both of them dissolved into giggles.
They were pulled from their Watcher-beating by the sound of the basement door slamming open, busy feet hurrying down the steps. Beth stood up quickly, as did Margaret, just in time to see Andrew coming hurtling down the stairs.
"You're back!" Beth greeted, surprised by his sudden entrance.
Andrew, wide-eyed, stopped dead at the bottom on the steps, his wild gaze flicking back and forth between the two of them. "You're here," he said. "Together. Unsupervised. And no one's dying."
Beth exchanged glances with Margaret. "Very astute of you, Mr. Wells," Margaret commented.
"Incredibly observant," Beth agreed, nodding her head.
"When I was told—your mom said—the both of you—here!" he stammered, looking flustered.
"We were practicing," Beth explained. "There's an army coming to Seattle. Haven't you heard?"
"Yeah, though we needed some extra practice," Margaret added.
"But you're—you're… getting along." He hissed the last past, like he was saying something dirty to them. Or maybe it was just taboo. With the way they acted before, it might as well have been.
"Oh, we're over that," Beth said.
"Allies now," Margaret informed him. "Did you come down here just because of that?"
"No!" He said, suddenly getting defensive. "Willow and I found something. We think we have a way to free Maea."