420 - Flail - See, They Return - dragonyphoenix - BtVS

[dragonyphoenix.livejournal.com]

Title: See, They Return
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 420 - Flail
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: A bunch of gods show up in Sunnydale
Note: unedited, unbetad, total first draft of a story
Note: Written for a prompt of flail at Taming the Muse and a prompt of returning at Giles Shorts.

Buffy looked around Restfield Cemetery. “Plenty of graves but nothing undead,” she muttered to herself. Turning she caught Giles yawning. Great, even he was bored. “Giles, with Glory being some kind of a hell-god and all, do you really think I should be spending my time patrolling. And anyway, this cemetery is, well, rather dead.”

“Buffy, with all the stress you've been under protecting your sis … the Key and throwing yourself against a god, I believe it's essential you get back to the basics, to something you know how to handle.”

Buffy heard a sound, a whup of something small flying in the air. Without thinking she raised her hand to grab it. Two cords whipped into her hand and the third, the one she'd grabbed, was drawn out of her fist as if it'd been yanked away. Buffy turned to see a guy, well not a guy since he had the head of a dog, one with really big ears, but man his human body was buff and he wasn't wearing much other than some cloth that wasn't a towel but it was wrapped around his waist. His weapon seemed to be … “Is that a whip?”

“A flail,” Giles replied. He sounded flustered. It was kinda weird. Giles never sounded flustered.

“And that would make this what kind of demon?” she asked.

“A god, actually.”

“A god. Another one.”

“Er, yes.”

“A god with a dog's head?”

“A jackal's head, actually.”

The dog, jackal, god, whatever, spoke. Buffy didn't get the words but she was pretty sure it wasn't dog-speak. “Giles?”

“He's telling us to leave. Anubis is the protector of graveyards. Apparently he thinks we're desecrating this one.”

“Desecrating? I'm protecting the graveyard. I'm keeping it free of vampires. That's got to be of the good, right?”

“I'll, ah, try to explain.”

Giles didn't get a chance to explain because the big jackal-headed creepy guy started in again.

“He's not concerned with vampires because he's already gotten their souls.”

“Gotten their souls? Are you sure he's not some kind of demon?”

“Of course I'm certain. Anubis weighed the hearts of the dead ...”

“You're not helping your case here, Giles. He's sounding more and more like a demon. And hey, how'd he know we were talking about vampires? He can understand us but can't be bothered to speak English, is that it?”

“Buffy, an ancient Egyptian god is wandering through Sunnydale. I'd like to offer the suggestion that patrolling and vampires should not be our primary concern at the moment.”

Buffy walked straight up to the god and tilted her head up to look him in the face. “I protect the graveyards. When vampires rise they did their way out of the graves. If I stake them, they can't make any more vamps to dig their way out of graves.”

The jackal-headed guy spoke again.

“He's given us permission to leave. I think we should take him up on that offer and return to The Magic Box.”

“Research?” Buffy asked.

“Research,” Giles confirmed.

Buffy followed Giles out of the cemetery, muttering to herself. “Some protector. Thinks it's okay to leave dug out holes in fresh graves.”

They'd made it to the main drag when a woman rode past, not in a car or on a motorcycle or even on a bike. No, she rode past on a horse. Giles stopped and stared after her. “Oh good Lord.”

“Giles? Share.”

“It's not my area of expertise but the style of the tunic and cloak, I'd say they were Celtic.”

“Meaning?”

“Given that we saw an Egyptian god in the cemetery, I believe the horse rider may have been a Celtic goddess, um, Epona. If I'm correct, this could be much worse than I'd first imagined.”

“So I'm thinking we should get to the shop ASAP?”

“Um, yes, right.” Giles started walking again.

The Magic Box was still open. Giles used to shut it well before sunset, to customers at least, but Anya had insisted people living on a Hellmouth would need last minute, meaning late night, spell supplies which they could sell at a great profit. After the first few nights, she'd told everyone she'd been right, discussing how much they'd made by staying up later in excruciating detail. Willow's question, wouldn't she have sold the supplies the next day if the shop had been closed, had led to a barrage of comments on how dead people, well dead humans anyway, didn't buy anything. “I”m protecting the innocent citizens of Sunnydale and making a profit.”

“Good, we've made it,” Giles said as he held the door for Buffy. “We'll call Willow and Xander and get started with the research.”

“I'm thinking we don't have to do quite that much calling.” Willow and Tara were already seated at the table to the back of the store.

Willow jumped up from her seat. “Giles, I ...”

“What did you do?”

Anya spoke up before Willow could answer. “She called up a whole bunch of gods, that's what she did.”

“How many?” Giles asked.

“Well, I was just going for the one. I thought that if we were dealing with a goddess we could get another goddess to take her on and so I worked out a spell to manifest Gaia because I figured as the earth goddess she'd be really down on the earth being sucked into hell and all but, um, the spell was a bit more, er, general than I'd imagined.”

“I brought her Book of Shadows,” Tara said, her voice barely audible from across the room.

“What?”

Anya put her hands over her ears. “Willow, if you're going to shriek, please do it far, far away from the store. Giles can't afford to pay for shattered glass.”

“I can't what?”

“Well, you can,” Anya added, “but it would mean less profit, which would be bad.”

“The Book of Shadows,” Buffy said. “Destroying it should break the spell.”

Willow's head turned back and forth between Buffy and Tara. “We can't. That's all the magic I've learned.”

“Willow, honey, there are gods walking around Sunnydale. These are powers far beyond anything you've ever encountered.”

“Which is why they could help us with Glory.”

“But what if these gods start influencing the human population?” Giles asked. “We could end up with Dionysian maenads tearing men to shreds.”

“I think Willow's right,” Anya said.

“What?” Buffy heard herself ask.

“We need help fighting Glory. She's a god. We need a god. Willow shouldn't have invited in so many gods, but we should use them to defeat Glory before we destroy Willow's spell book and send them all away.”

“What if Diana's grove appears right off the street and some man walks in and Diana sends her hounds to tear him to pieces?” Tara asked.

“That's it,” Buffy decided. “We're getting rid of the gods.”

“But, well, at least let me Xerox the pages first,” Willow said.

A winged chubby fat sort of kid, carrying a bow and arrows, appeared in mid air. Buffy shoved Giles out of the way as the kid shot an arrow at him. “Ow,” Giles called up from the floor.

“Giles? What is it?”

“Er, Cupid,” Giles said. “Don't let any of the arrows hit you or, well.” Buffy glanced down, taking her eyes off of the Kewpie doll for just a moment. Giles was blushing? “Lets just say that it'll make the spell that caused you to fall for Spike look like a lark.”

Like a bird? Buffy decided not to ask. Ducking behind the counter she came back up with a broom. “Great, I'll keep him busy, you destroy that book.”

Buffy took a swing. The fat kid flew up higher and put another arrow to the bow. “Oh no you don't.” Buffy swung the brook and caught the arrow in the handle. “Great, let's just make my only weapon less aerodynamic.”

“Frog's eyes,” Buffy heard from the back. “We need a frog's eye.”

“Buffy,” Anya called out. “The frogs' eyes are on that shelf, just to your right.”

“Oh, sure,” Buffy said, swinging the broom at the fat flying kid. “I'll just get right on that.” The swing went wide, crashing against a shelf of, uh, magicky stuff, sending glass jars shattering against the floor and spilling all over the place.

“Oh, thanks,” she heard Willow say. “One frog's eye.”

“The center is dark,” Giles called out. “Centrum est obscurus. The darkness breathes. Tenebrae respiratis. The listener hears. Hear me!”

Buffy kept swinging, focusing on the fat flying kid. An arrow or two got through but she didn't think they'd hit anything. Suddenly, with a pop, the god vanished. “Is that it?” Buffy asked. “Gods all gone?”

“I, I think so,” Giles said. “But we seem to have another problem.”

Giles was holding a very determined Anya, one who had an arrow in her arm, at bay.

“Rupert Edmund Giles, give me many orgasms. Now!”

“Er, what?” Buffy asked.

“I think it's Cupid's arrow,” Tara said. “The love spell.”

“And that didn't go away with the fat flying kid?” Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. “Apparently not.”

Buffy pulled Anya off of Giles. “No, no, I need him,” Anya said, reaching out toward Giles.

“You start researching,” Buffy said. “And I'll keep Anya at bay.”