Gamefic: Making Arrangements, Part XI.
Title: Making Arrangements.
Rating: R.
Fandom: Covenant of the Slayer/Healy Compound.
Synopsis: What started as a simple assignment got damn complicated when no one was looking. From Watchers to Slayers, from sneak attacks to brain washing, with a side order of talking mice, thinks are going to get worse before they get better. Originally written for ceolyn, for the first Valentine's Day round of Iron Author -- the one in 2006 -- but it fetched up a bit on the 'longer than intended' side of things. As so often happens. You can find part one here, part two here, part three here, part four here, part five here, part six here, part seven here, part eight here, part nine here, and part ten over here.
We're finally done. I may weep from the joy of it all.
***
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
Samuel Coleridge Taylor was, in many ways, a man -- and monkey -- of simple desires, simple impulses, and simple needs. He liked football, even if he wasn't playing all that regularly anymore. He liked coffee. He liked watching television, providing he got to do it without a Greek chorus of Healy teens shouting at all the characters about how they'd be having more fun if they had more weapons. He liked swinging around in trees and from buildings, and was frequently saddened by the fact that he'd had to wait so long before he learned how much fun that was. And he liked Jerry.
In fact, if you really wanted to get right down to the heart of the matter -- if you wanted to make two lists, one titled 'Things Sam Likes' and one titled 'Things Sam DOESN'T Like' -- Jerry would factor heavily in both lists. The number one slot, actually. Only while the number one slot on 'Things Sam Likes' would read simply 'Jerry', the number one slot on 'Things Sam DOESN'T Like' would read 'People Hitting, Kicking, Attacking, Or Otherwise Hurting Jerry'.
Normally, Kim ranked pretty high on the 'Likes' list. Normally, Kim wasn't acting out the best parts of 'Slayers Gone Wild, Part V' in the middle of the floor. Given the circumstances, it wasn't really all that surprising that the overtired, underfed, seriously over-stressed monkey-man began wading his way through the fray towards the pair, simian lips pressed into a thin, grim line.
"Hiya, Sammy!" said Kim, with great good cheer. She flashed him a smile, dodging another of Jerry's wild roundhouses before knocking the darker Slayer's head against the floor. "I was wondering when you'd show up here! You wanna take over the beating?"
"Hands off," Sam snapped, and lunged for her.
Kim had always lived her life by the Healy creed, which included such useful tips as 'conditioner is for everybody', 'in a pinch, your underwire will make a functional garrote, unless you're below a C-cup', and 'always assume that your allies are going to attack you, and be completely prepared to take them down'. She'd had a fully functional plan for taking out Sam Taylor since the day Jerry called her and said 'I think I'm in love with a monkey demon'.
None of that changed the fact that Sam, when riled, moved at roughly the speed of your average bullet train. Or the fact that Sam, upon seeing his fiancee's head being treated like a basketball, was definitely riled. He didn't so much 'hit' Kim as 'impact', much like a satellite plummeting back to Earth after a catostrophic systems failure. Kim went flying.
Groaning, Edward covered his eyes.
"Dammit, Sam, you're attacking the wrong Slayer!" shouted Kim, just before he slammed her into the wall, wrapping his tail around her throat, and she found herself with much better things to worry about. Like breathing.
"Eddie!" cried Carmen, as she brained another Council Slayer with her makeshift hockey stick. "Who am I supposed to be attacking now?!"
"I don't bloody know anymore," Edward replied, shouting to make himself heard over the din of flesh hitting flesh, metal hitting metal, and Kim hitting monkey. "Anyone who looks like they need attacking! Just--" The rest of his statement was lost as he was forced to dive to the floor, narrowly avoiding a punch to the face.
"DON'T YOU HIT MY BOYFRIEND!" shrieked Carmen, beginning to wade her way through the fight, swatting anything that attempted to swat her out of the way.
Jerry, meanwhile, had bounced back to her feet, displaying that curious resiliancy that only seems to manifest itself in small children, puppies, vampire Slayers, and, of course, the terminally stupid. Given her current mental state, Jerry stood a reasonable chance of qualifying on all four counts; it was, perhaps, only natural that she was already up again, looking around with wide, bewildered eyes. Now that no one was actively attacking her, she was showing no inclination to rejoin the fight. Edward noted, as he ducked again, that she was very nearly posing -- stomach tucked in, chest heaving in a deeply unnerving manner, like she thought the cameras were rolling on her all the while.
"Fucking bastard's turned my baby sis into Misery Chastaine," he muttered, before shouting, "Oy, Kim! You haven't beaten the brainwashing out of her yet!"
"Busy now!" Kim shouted, in an unintended imitation of Sam's earlier declamation on the train. "Fightin' off my best friend's goddamn monkey! For fuck's sake, Sam, put me down!"
"Why were you hitting my fiancee?!" demanded Sam, shaking her for good measure.
Before Kim could answer, Leonard and his trio of trainees came running into the hall, following Suzy, who skidded to a stop and declared, loudly, "See? They're fighting in the halls!" Leaf, Lucy and Salila were only a few steps after them, having fallen behind as Sam ran to the rescue, forcing them to navigate the rest of the way by following the source of the greatest noise.
When Jerry spotted Leonard, she lit up like Disneyland's Main Street the week before Christmas. "Oh!" she exclaimed, in an operatically piercing tone, and tossed her hair back in a carefully calculated cascade of red-brown curls before spreading her arms, crying, "Oh, Leonard!" and flouncing over to throw her arms around him. "Oh, darling, I was so worried that you'd been swept into this dreadful brawl!"
"...oh my God, I may be sick," said Kim, in a tone of utter horror.
Sam dropped her.
For all that Kim Healy's figure was the envy of girls all around the Wisconsin pageant circuit -- and beyond, to the extent that some of the West Coast girls had faced her once, gone crawling home to Mommy's plastic surgeons, and come back for round two boasting suspiciously familiar-looking anatomical attributes -- it had a few failings. A lack of proper prosterior padding was one of them. "Ooooow!" she shouted, as Sam's ignomious release dropped her onto her insufficiently protected hiney. "Samuel Taylor, just because your honey's gone and gotten herself supernaturally lobotomized, that's no reason to go around behavin' like a Watcher!"
"Normally I'd take offense," muttered Edward.
Under normal circumstances, even Sam's somewhat atrophied sense of self-preservation would have goaded him into apologizing to Kim, under the reasoning that a Healy who's just been dropped is a Healy that's at eye-level with your groin, and probably both angry and armed. At the moment, however, all Sam's natural reactions were smothered under a veil of absolute disbelief.
Leonard, meanwhile, was being faced with problems of his own -- namely Jerry, who had wrapped herself around him like a particularly clingy straitjacket, and was doing her best to kiss away all the bruises he hadn't actually received during the fight he wasn't actually involved in. Lucy was staring, wide-eyed, which at least had the somewhat positive effect of keeping her from moving into the path of any of the Slayers who were still interested in hitting. The battle was dying by inches. Several of the larger Slayers were sitting on top of Evie, immobilizing her. Anna had a pile of girls that she'd managed to knock down, but was more interested in gaping at Jerry's public displays of affection than she was in making sure they stayed down. Carmen, having reached Edward, was simply standing there, mutely stunned.
"Eddie?" she asked, in a small voice. "Is this an evil spell?"
Shooting a poisonous glance at Mister Davies, who was struggling to pick himself up off the floor, Edward replied stiffly, "I certainly can't think of a better way to describe it."
"But...aren't evil spells supposed to break when someone kisses you?"
"I can't say as he's actually kissed her yet," said Kim, analytically, as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Mostly, she seems to be doin' all the kissing, while he stands there lookin' like an incubus with its leg stuck in a bear trap."
Despite her firm resolve to stay quiet and thus avoid an attack from the crazy people, Pam found herself asking, "How do you know what that looks like?"
"Uncle Harry's never so much learned to mind his step in the back forty."
"Your uncle's an incubus?" asked Anne.
"Yup," said Kim. "And his wife says most of the old stories, you didn't break the spell with a kiss, you broke it with a--"
"Jerry?" interrupted Sam, in a very, very small voice. It fell into the noise of the remaining fight like a lunch bell ringing in a crowded kindergarten. The Slayers still standing left off their attempts to bludgeon each other, turning to face what now appeared to be the world's saddest monkey. Oblivious to the look on her actual fiancee's face, the ensorcelled Jerry continued to smother Leonard in kisses, which now seemed loud enough to sound like gunshots. "Jerry, why are you kissing that man?"
The question, small and meekly asked as it was, was still enough to break Salila out of her own startled fugue. The London Slayer started to storm towards Jerry, a murderous expression in her narrowed eyes. Leaf grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to a stop.
Expression twisted with raw, unthinking fury, Salila whipped around to face her, hissing, "Let. Me. Go."
"Why, so you can get you skull cracked open?" Leaf demanded. "That is not an effective conduit for your anger! Try rhythmic breathing and rational debate!"
"I'll try rational debate with her corpse, how's that?" Salila said, trying to shake Leaf off.
Anne and Sophie exchanged a glance and nodded. Moving with the sort of unison that comes only from years of training or true understanding, they stepped over to Leaf and Salila, where Sophie put one hand on Salila's right shoulder and the other on her right elbow, while Anne, still burdened with the unconscious Linda, joined Leaf in holding down her left side.
"That's enough of that," said Anne, genially enough. Leaf shot the pair a grateful look, and Anne nodded to her. "Hello, miss. You know what's going on here? Only I don't think guessing is really going to work so good."
"They broke my Watcher!" shouted Evie, finally squirming free of her captors. She would have lunged for Mister Davies again if Anna hadn't grabbed her. Finding herself caught by the substantially larger Slayer, she was forced to settle for spitting at him, glaring daggers. "Make him put her back like she was right now!"
"Watcher?" said Sophie, looking bemused. "Which one's the Watcher?"
"The one trying to kiss the face off the guy you came in with," said Anna.
"HAIL THE INAPPROPRIATE DISPLAY OF PUBLIC AFFECTION! HAIL THE INEVITABLE GETTING OF THE HOSE-OR-A-ROOM!" shouted the mice.
This was, once again, enough to derail almost everyone for several seconds.
"Mice shouldn't talk," said Anne, finally. "That's just freaky."
Carmen stared at her. "You have super powers and this is like Hogwarts for the Type-A, and there's a man who looks like a giant monkey, and you have a problem with the talking mice?"
"Is somebody going to turn a pumpkin into a carriage?" Sophie asked. "Never could abide squash."
The Cinderella parallels of the situation were, thankfully, promptly upstaged by Sam, who covered the ground between himself and Jerry in several fast, unsteady steps, grabbing her shoulder with one long-fingered hand. "Jerry? Jer, you can stop now, you don't have to fake it anymore, we're here to take you home--"
"Oh, hello," said Jerry, turning away from the visibly relieved Leonard and offering Sam a vapid, glossy-eyed smile. "Have we met? Oh! Oh, my, sir, did you realize that you happen to be a monkey? Look, Leonard, look! A monkey! Oh, it's the most cunning little monkey I do believe I've ever lain my eyes upon! Leonard, Eddie, did you see the monkey?" Her smile faded, replaced by a scrunchy-faced look of perplexment. "Oh, my, but monkey, you do seem to have lost your adorable little hat. However shall you caper at the wedding without an adorable little hat?"
"Ain't a jury on the planet would convict him now," said Kim.
"Yes, Geraldine, I see the cunning little homicidal monkey," called Edward, before dropping his voice and asking, "For killing which one of them?"
"Oh, I'd say he could take his pick, really."
Sam, meanwhile, was staring at Jerry, his own expression managing to surpass hers for sheer confusion. "Did you just call me a 'cunning little monkey'?" he asked. He sounded even more bewildered than he looked.
"Oh!" said Jerry. "Oh, my, I am so dreadfully sorry, wherever are my manners? I'm Geraldine Harrington." She pressed one hand against her still-heaving bosom, fingers splayed wide, displaying her engagement ring.
The confusion faded from Sam's expression immediately, replaced by something new: cold, raw fury. "Where did you get that?" he demanded, grabbing for her hand. "That isn't the ring I gave you!"
"Mister Monkey!" snapped Jerry. She wasn't as fast as Sam -- nothing human really could be, not even a human who also happened to belong to the Chosen However-Many meant to defend the world from the forces of darkness -- but she'd been training with him for a very long time, and even if her conscious mind had forgotten, her reflexes remembered. She yanked her hand back before he could do much but grab her fingers, and slapped his hand away with the full brunt of her Slayer strength. His wrist promptly went numb. Sam barely noticed. "How dare you put your...your...your grabby, horrible paws on me?! Leonard, I do demand you defend my honour as your betrothed!"
"Oh, yes, Leonard, please, do defend her honour," said Edward, dryly. "After this day, we could use some entertainment."
"Five dollars on the monkey," said Anna.
"...you," said Sam, turning his attention from Jerry to Leonard. "You did this."
Leonard had been feeling like he had somehow been marooned in a bad BBC 1 comedy ever since he got onto the train. The feeling was only growing with each passing incident, and was now accompanied by the horrifying conviction that it was being directed by Russell T. Davies. He had the distinct feeling that when you were praying for the Daleks to show up, it was already too late...and yet, at that particular moment, he would most definitely have taken an invasion of Daleks over a Singari demon with murder in its eyes. Especially considering that his actual fiancee was just feet away, being restrained, barely, by three Slayers who might well decide to release her at any moment.
"Me?" he said, unable to prevent his voice from cracking. "I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything at all! We already talked about this! She and I! In the garden! When she was calling and leaving disturbingly explicit telephone messages for I-assume-it-was-you!" Edward groaned, putting a hand over his face. "I said I didn't want to marry her!"
"You said what?" demanded Jerry, turning to face him, eyebrows raised high.
"Huh," said Kim.
"Huh?" echoed Carmen.
"S'just that she actually sounded like her for a second there," said Kim, thoughtfully. "Which means--"
Pulling back her hand, Jerry decked him.
Leonard went down like a sack of bricks. "Yup," said Kim, with some satisfaction. "She's still in there."
Before she could say anything else, Salila uttered a shriek of gutteral rage, shrugging Leaf, Sophie and Anne -- and by extension, Linda -- off like so many paper dolls before lunging for Jerry. The brain-blasted Slayer barely had time to squeak with surprise before she went down in a frenzy of pummeling fists and kicking feet. And just like that, the battle was back on, with everyone hitting whatever seemed to be most in need of hitting.
It was, perhaps, inevitable that it was into the dead center of this vast, incomprehensible fray that Leo, Iggy, and Courtland teleported.
"All right!" said Leo, beaming with seemingly total unconcern for the fact that he was probably going to get his skull crushed like an egg at any second. "Now where's the bacon?"
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
Iggy really couldn't have put words to what she expected to find in England, had anyone ever bothered to ask her, which no one ever had. The England she knew was the land of Shakespeare, Kenneth Branaugh, Harry Potter, and illegal downloads of 'Doctor Who' and 'Torchwood'. Jerry and Evie had assured her repeatedly that England possessed many noteworthy qualities in addition to being the birthplace of modern literature and bad science fiction, but as their examples mostly centered on chocolate, sports figures, and a shop called 'Forbidden Planet', she'd never quite believed them. Regardless, she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to find when she finally got the opportunity to visit the United Kingdom...
...but a giant X-Men-style 'two teams enter, one team leaves' brawl definitely hadn't been at the top of her list.
"Oh, hey, Iggy!" said Carmen, with a strained, short-lived smile for the trio. "Courtland! Leo! Wow! You're here!" A tall, dark-skinned Slayer swung a club at her throat. Carmen parried with a sweep of her makeshift hockey stick. "Only this is maybe not the best time? We're in the middle of something right now."
"Does this mean no bacon sandwiches?" asked Leo, sounding deeply disappointed. On the other side of the fight, Evie's head whipped around, and she went ploughing through the crowd, scattering startled combatants in all directions as she slammed into the perplexed-looking teleporter, flinging her arms tightly around him. "Oh, hey, Evie. Hey, I got us here in one piece!"
"And it only took eight tries," added Courtland, before yanking Iggy out of the way of a somewhat over-enthusiastic Slayer. "Hey! Watch the witch, dummy! You break her, you bought her!"
"Leo they broke my Watcher!" wailed Evie.
"They did what?!" demanded Iggy, horrified. "Edward?!"
Grimly, Edward pointed towards the other side of the fight. Unable to stop herself, Iggy turned to look, and stared.
Jerry and Salila were circling each other, their raw fury enough to keep the other combatants from approaching them any more closely. Leonard was crumpled on the floor, Leaf and Lucy doing their best to get him up, while Sophie and Anne supported the slowly-waking Linda. Sam was just staring, with the most bleak expression Iggy had ever seen on the Singari's face. The smaller, darker of the two Slayers looked very nearly as distraught as he did, while Jerry...Jerry was practically glowing, her anger not distracting her from the vital business of squaring her shoulders, thrusting out her chest, and generally posing for a camera no one could see but her.
"Now see here, my good woman," she was saying, in a brisk tone that was probably intended to come off as no-nonsense, but really made her sound like the lead character in a badly-directed period romance. "I do understand the enchanting web that a handsome, well-to-do man from a good family line can throw over the help, but your behaviour here is simply shameless. I don't know what you hope to achieve by stealing my beloved away from me, but I assure you, in the end, common sense and proper breeding will reassert themselves, and we shall be reunited."
Kim made a gagging noise.
"You bitch," snarled Salila, and lunged for Jerry's throat.
Look of misery not changing, Sam reached out and grabbed Salila by the back of her collar, wrapping his tail around her hands and tying them together. "I don't know what's going on here," he said, miserably, "and I don't know why Jerry is calling me a 'cunning little monkey', although I really, really wish she'd stop, but even if she's just dumped me for the guy on the floor there, I can't let you hit her. It's against the good boyfriend code."
"Dumped you?" said Iggy.
"Cunning little monkey?" said Courtland.
"Who's that guy trying to sneak out the back while you guys kick the crap out of each other?" asked Leo.
Once again, the fighting stopped to allow all parties involved to turn their attention towards a single point -- in this case, Mister Davies, who had risen from his place on the floor, and was heading towards the end of the hall.
"HAIL THE THWARTED ESCAPE AND THE INEVITABLE KICKING OUT OF THE CRAP!" rejoiced the mice.
"Hail," agreed Anna, cracking her knuckles.
"Now, ain't that just like a Watcher?" drawled Kim. "Sorry, Eddie."
"Right now, I take positively no offense at any terms you might choose to use for my former associates," said Edward, dryly. "In point of fact, when we return to North America with my sister -- who will be accompanying us whether she likes it or not -- I may be putting forth a motion to change the term used for the local branch. 'Watcher' sounds too much like 'wanker' for my tastes."
"Now, silly, we've already got a local word for 'Watcher', doesn't sound damn near as much like 'pompous assholes that brainwash my best friend'."
"Oh? And what would that happen to be?"
Kim smirked. "Healy. Sam, the fella that Leo just pointed out? He's the one that went and blasted Jerry's brain to mush." A small smile curved the corners of her mouth upwards. "Sic 'im."
Later, most of the Council Slayers would swear that they hadn't seen, quote, 'the giant monkey-man move'. Even the people who were used to Sam and how unnaturally fast he could be when he had the proper motivation found themselves unable to follow his trajectory, as he abruptly released Salila, leaping for the wall, rebounding off the side of a heavy bookshelf, which began to topple, and used the momentum to slam, feet-first, into Mister Davies's back. The senior Watcher found himself once more on the floor, this time pinned by two hundred pounds of angry monkey.
The bookshelf finished its fall in total silence, scattering its contents across the floor. The freed Salila took two steps forward and slapped Jerry across the face, before bursting into tears. Jerry reeled backwards, then -- with a look of utter contempt for the smaller Slayer -- turned to reach for Leonard, asking, "Darling, are you all right?"
Leonard slapped her hands away. Loving, supernaturally-enhanced concern turned into confusion, then betrayal, as Jerry, too, burst into tears.
"Wow," said Leo, looking around, eyes wide. "These Watchers sure know how to party."
*
Ithaca, Wisconsin, The Healy Compound.
*
"Katherine?"
"Yes, mama?"
"Where'd that dog-boy go? We're havin' bacon sandwiches for lunch."
"Oh, the scary witch-girl that Kim brought home grabbed him and said he had to teleport her and her boyfriend to England so they could hit some Watchers. 'least that's what Bobby said, and he was playin' catch with Leo when she did it."
"Oh. I suppose that means he won't be wanting lunch, then."
"Probably not, mama."
"All right, sweetheart. Go wash up."
"What kind of bacon?"
"Lembir demon."
"Oh, boy!"
Pointlessly convoluted plots may be masterminded by the Watchers Council and foiled by angry monkeys, but at the Healy Compound, life goes on.
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
Peeling Sam off Mister Davies had been substantially more difficult than scattering the Council Slayers. Most of them had little to no field experience, after all, and as Pam put it, once it had been established that really, Edward was a genuine, non-evil Watcher who just wanted his sister to be returned to her normal, deeply-snarky state of mind, "We don't mind fighting the forces of evil, but giant monkeys, hockey players, beauty queens, and talking mice make it all just a little bit too weird for us."
Sam, on the other hand, had little to no inclination to be dissuaded from throttling the life out of Mister Davies, a conviction which only grew every time he glanced at Jerry's tear-streaked face. He didn't like seeing Jerry cry under the best of circumstances. Seeing her cry because she was hopelessly in love with another man? One who didn't want her? Really wasn't doing much to help his mood.
"Sam, sugar, you gotta get off the nice Watcher now, so's we can take him back into his office and ram bamboo slivers up underneath his fingernails," said Kim gently, putting her hand against the back of his neck.
Lucy, who had been trying to staunch the bleeding of Leonard's nose, looked up with visible alarm. "I do beg your pardon?"
"Don't worry about it," said Anna. "I mean, you people've what, wiped the mind of a girl who used to be a part of the Council? No matter what we do, we'll still be the civilized ones here."
"Whore!" spat Salila. "Stupid American whore! Take your traitor and go home!" Sam glowered at her. She returned the expression, her own tears causing her mascara to run in heavy lines down her cheeks. "Don't you look at me like that! None of us asked you to come here!"
"We were offering you an alliance, you little cow," said Edward, in a tone made dry and heavy with exhaustion. "All right, ladies and gentlemen: I have had quite enough of this. You girls -- what are your names?"
"I'm Anne, and this is Sophie," volunteered the largest of the remaining non-American Slayers. "The crazy one over there communing with your talking mice, that's Linda. She'll probably decide they're unhygenic in a few minutes, so I'd be braced for that if I were you."
"I'll take that under advisement," Edward replied. "I assume you're new arrivals?"
"Just picked up from Heathrow."
"Excellent. Then we can be reasonably sure of getting an impartial opinion from you. Now. Given what you've seen of the situation, what do you think is going on?"
"Not a damn clue, but it's better'n Neighbors," volunteered Sophie. Carmen and Evie turned to eye the Australian Slayer, who shrugged. "You lot're weird. Still, it's a sight better'n the crap they were showing on the plane."
"The boy with the bloody nose was betrothed as a child to the crying brown-haired girl, who's currently under a fairly elaborate mind-control spell that's supposed to become permanent on her wedding night, only he thought she was dead and he was always a little scared of her family, anyway, so he went and fell in love with someone less likely to kill him in a fit of pique, and now he doesn't want the first girl, but that's all right, because she wouldn't want him either, if she were thinking like herself. She wants to marry the monkey. And all the rest of you are her friends, and you came here to stop her from marrying someone she wasn't in love with," said Linda, placidly. Every head turned towards her.
"God help me, I'm gonna regret asking this, but how do you know, sweetheart?" said Kim.
"The mice told me."
"Oh, good," said Carmen, with visible relief. "The normal way."
"This is all well and good -- and confusing and weird, so I guess it's status quo -- but it's not making Jerry any less Stepford-ized," Courtland said. "She keeps tossing her hair. It's seriously creeping me out."
"You could beat the brainwashing out of her," Leo suggested. Sam growled. Leo put up the hand not occupied with stroking Evie's hair in a comforting, entirely not-taking-advantage-of-jailbait where the Watchers could see manner, saying, "What? It works."
"Already tried it," Kim said, walking over to tug on Sam's shoulder. "Up, Sammy. You gotta get up. We can't fix Jerry if he's dead."
Sam turned a bleak face towards her, asking, "What if you can't fix Jerry at all?"
Kim's mouth thinned to a hard line. "If Jerry can't be put back to her normal sort of broken, I let you kill him."
"Not. A. Word," cautioned Eddie, shooting a look towards the Cunningham siblings.
"Wasn't going to say one," said Leonard, putting a hand on his sister's shoulder and using it to lever himself to his feet. Turning a hard look towards Mister Davies, he offered his other hand towards Salila. "Fix this, sir. If you're half the Watcher you've always told me I was obligated to be, fix this."
"Geraldine?"
Putting on a theatrically brave face, Jerry turned wide, dewy eyes towards her brother, and breathed, "Yes, Edward?"
Eddie winced. It was necessary, but in her current condition, even necessary deception felt uncomfortably like endulging in a battle of wits with the congenitally unarmed. "Do you want to get married, Geraldine?"
"Oh, yes, Edward! Yes, I do!" Jerry clasped her hands to her heaving breast. "Oh, whatever must I do?"
"It seems that Mister Davies has betrayed the Council. Have you ever heard of a love spell?"
"Oh, my!" Jerry's eyes went wide and round with shock. "You mean he's influenced the passions of my dearest beloved?" She shot a poisonous glance towards Salila.
"The girl wasn't involved, sugar," Kim hastened to said. "But yeah, there's a love spell makin' things a little trickier than they ought to be. Now, if you can just help the monkey here with gettin' the bad Watcher into the office, we can see about getting it broken."
"And then can I be married?" asked Jerry hopefully.
"Yes, dear," said Eddie. "One way or another, I suppose you can."
"Oh! I shall help, and gladly!" Jerry came flouncing over, tears forgotten as she bent to take Mister Davies by the arm. "Come, cunning mister monkey! I shall forgive you all this silly brawling if only we can have my proper engagement restored!"
"Your words to God's ears," Eddie muttered, and followed maid, monkey, semi-comatose Watcher, and Wisconsin beauty queen into the Head of Council's office.
They closed the door behind them.
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
The remaining inhabitants of the hall -- Carmen, Anna, Evie, Leo, Leonard, Salila, Lucy, Leaf, Sophie, Anne, Linda, Iggy, Courtland, and, of course, the mice -- stared at the closed door for several moments before turning to regard each other with varying degrees of recognition, suspicion and dismay. It was, perhaps, only natural that it was Courtland who broke the silence first, demanding, "Somebody wanna tell me what the fuck is going on around here? The version that doesn't come from a bunch of talking demon mice that think my girlfriend's some sorta religious figure because she fixed my transmission?"
"HAIL THE REPAIRING OF THE GODDAMN THING THAT WON'T WORK!" rejoiced the mice.
Courtland jabbed a finger towards the rodents. "See, that's what I'm talkin' about. Can I get the Cliff's Notes version for the guy that wasn't even supposed to be here today?"
"And can I get a bacon sandwich?" asked Leo. Evie eyed him. He shrugged. "What? Iggy said I could have ten bacon sandwiches if I teleported her and Courtland to England. Either this is England, or Disneyworld built a new area at Epcot, and either way, I'm supposed to be chowing down on Porky Pig by now."
"If you'd all just follow me to the cafeteria, I think we can get things cleared up," said Leonard. He was making no move to dislodge Salila from his arm, although he kept wincing and touching the side of his head, and his nose was continuing to bleed freely, despite Lucy's best efforts. "Bacon and exposition for all."
"Are all Watchers like this guy?" asked Leo, with a broad grin. "'cause if they are, I so don't get why you guys quit."
"No," said Evie hotly. "Most Watchers are big stupid-heads who brain-melt my Watcher!"
"But...Evie, you call your Watcher a big stupid-head all the time."
"That's different!"
"Everyone!" The sound of Leaf raising her voice was unusual enough to get the immediate attention of everyone who knew her, and their sudden expressions of bemused attention were enough to quiet the rest. "Everyone, please. There's been enough violence and bad vibes around here today. Let's all just go to the cafeteria, have a nice cup of tea, and wait while Edward takes care of things."
That seemed to be the tipping point that everyone had been waiting for. The group gathered itself, and turned, with a minimum amount of grumbling, to follow Leonard down the hall towards the cafeteria.
Carmen moved to walk alongside Leaf, eyeing her curiously. "You really think we should just be sitting and drinking tea?"
"No," said Leaf, with a thin, entirely un-Leaf-like smile. "I think we should be taking this place apart, one brick at a time, and then throwing them at people. But that would be unproductive and bad for karma. So I'm going to have a nice cup of tea, instead."
"Oh," said Carmen, mystified.
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
*
Basingstoke, England, Mister Davies Office.
*
Mister Davies awoke to find himself looking straight into the cheerful, slightly lunatic eyes of Kimberley Alice Healy, titular heir to a legacy that began when her several-times-great-grandmother kicked a Watcher in the testicles for daring to put an unwanted hand on her elbow. He rather promptly wished that he hadn't.
Glancing around the room as much as his inexplicably limited range of motion would allow, he found himself with a rather severe dearth of allies. There was the Harrington boy, scowling darkly, with his idiot sister behind him, preening in the reflection cast by a good tenth-century Orb of Ocypete. A baleful-looking Singari demon rounded out what he could only assume was the crew assigned to torture him, dangling by its tail from the ceiling fixtures. He took a moment to wonder, academically, whether the chandelier could actually stand up to being dangled from, then dismissed the thought as irrelevant. Repair bills aside, the fact that he couldn't move was substantially more worrisome.
"If you're operating at full mental facilities, which you ought to be, you'll have just started asking yourself why you can't move," said Edward Harrington, in a voice that was all the more chilling because it was so effortlessly calm. "You'll be moving on to wondering how we were able to defeat your Slayers, when we were so patently out-numbered, and when you had every resource at your disposal. After that, well, I assume you'll be heading straight towards planning your escape. So if we can just skip all that nonsense and get straight to the part where you realize that you don't have an avenue for getting out of here, admit defeat, and tell us how to break your little parlour trick love spell, we'll all be much happier."
"An' if that idea doesn't suit your fancy," Kim offered, with substantially more cheer, "we can give you to Evelyn Mason. Poor little lamb's in quite a state since her Watcher forgot who she was. She could use a way to work out her agressions."
Even through the growing conviction that he was probably going to die, Mister Davies found it in him to utter a short, sharp bark of laughter. "Watcher? I'm horribly sorry. I wasn't aware that we had any Watchers suffering from amnesia."
"No?" Kim cast a meaningful look towards Jerry, who had moved on to finger-combing her hair while the Singari looked on longingly. For a brief moment, the look seemed to be one of...no. Absolutely not. Mister Davies shoved the thought forcibly aside. Perverted and debased by the Americans the Harringtons might be, but no scion of a centuries-old Watcher family would ever stoop so low as that.
"Absolutely not," Mister Davies replied. "I believe the exact words of the individual in question were 'hate you, hate the Council, taking my Slayer'? She left us. We did not raise our hands against our own."
"No, you raised them against the diplomatic representative of a foreign power seeking an alliance," said Edward, rather more sharply than he intended. They might have the current head of the Watcher's Council tied up and propped against his own desk, but that wasn't going to mean a damn thing if the man had meant it when he called his spell 'unbreakable'. "Bad form. Return her to her original condition, if you would be so kind?"
"Much as my current circumstances genuinely compell me to go along with you, I'm afraid that I can't," Mister Davies replied. "Geraldine?"
"Yes, sir?" the Slayer chirped, turning to face him, then pouting prettily as she remembered that she was supposed to be angry with him.
"Geraldine, my dear, what have these people told you about what's going on?"
"Oh!" Her brow wrinkled with the obvious effort of thought. Her frown deepened. "They said you'd done a dreadful thing, sir. A love spell that was responsible for my not being able to married properly."
"I see. Well, my dear, I promise we'll do our best to get that cleared right up, but first I need to ask you a very important question. Will you promise to answer just as honestly as you can? It's very important."
"You will, sir? Oh, thank you, sir!" Jerry positively twinkled, causing Kim Healy to make a gagging gesture, which she dutifully ignored. "I'll do anything, sir."
"Well, dear, these people are saying that the spell was cast on you. That without it, you wouldn't want Leonard at all. You'd want to run off to America, and pretend to be a Watcher, while running about without guidance of the Council. Now, my dear, if that were true...would you want the spell reversed?"
Jerry's mouth had become a small round 'o' of horror. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, dear! Oh, no, sir, I'm happy as I am, sir! I'm loyal to the Council!"
"You see?" If Mister Davies had been able to gesture towards her, he would have done so. As it was, he had to content himself with smirking smugly. "She has no interest in going back with you."
"You bastard," said Edward, staring at him. "You didn't."
"Oh, no, son, I'm afraid I did."
"Eddie?" asked Sam, uncertainly. "What did he do to Jerry?"
"He's caught her in Moebius spell!"
Kim looked horrified. Sam just looked confused.
"A Moebius spell?" he asked. "Is that like a Moebius strip? He's gonna turn her into construction paper?"
"A Moebius spell," said Eddie, darkly, "is a recursive sort of effect. It can't be broken unless she wants it to be broken."
"And I don't," said Jerry, staunchly. "I like my life."
"Can I kill him now, Eddie?" Kim asked. "It'd be fun. I wouldn't even have to break a nail. My manicure can stand up to anything."
"We're not barbarians, Kimberley," Edward said. "If we're going to kill him, everyone gets a turn."
Sam dropped down from the ceiling, landing without a stumble. "You can't like your life," he informed Jerry, almost pleading as he started to walk towards her.
"Why in the entire world not?" she asked. "It has everything a girl could need to be truly happy!"
"Yeah, but it doesn't have me," he said.
"You?" Jerry laughed. "As if there's anything you could do to make me happy?"
"Oh, there's something," said Sam, and -- again with that impossible, inhuman speed -- he wrapped his tail around her waist, yanked her close, and kissed her.
*
Basingstoke, England, Council Estate Cafeteria.
*
"I think they're gonna explode," said Carmen, sounding awed.
"I think I'm gonna explode just from watching them," said Courtland.
"I think we should be hitting something," complained Anna.
"HAIL THE BACON SANDWICH EATING COMPETITION!" rejoiced the mice.
Ignoring the chaos around them, Suzy and Leo, having finally found adversaries worthy of their individual levels of skill, continued to eat.
*
Basingstoke, England, Mister Davies Office.
*
"EEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUEW!" shrieked Jerry piercingly, shoving Sam away. "Monkey cooties! Demon cooties! Demon-monkey cooties! Get them off me!"
"There was a time I would have paid to hear those words," muttered Edward. "Samuel, I'm afraid this isn't Sleeping Beauty, you can't kiss her back to sanity."
"Kinda too bad," said Kim.
"No, really, that's my baby sister, it's not too bad at all," said Edward. "You people already owe me sufficient therapy."
Sam glanced away from the time-consuming business of keeping Jerry from hitting him -- a feat accomplished largely by tying her wrists together with his tail, then holding her as far away from him as possible -- and demanded, "If that won't work, what will?"
"Oh, good Christ, Sam, you're chafing my bloody wrists!" snapped Jerry.
Every head in the room (save for Mister Davies's, which remained safely immobilized by Kim's Merit Badge-winning knots) whipped around to stare at her. The vapid expression was already back in place...but they'd all heard it crack.
"She sounded like herself when she was hittin' me," noted Kim.
"...they've built a persona that doesn't know how to contend with socially unusual rage," said Edward, slowly. "Samuel, I don't believe I'm about to say this."
"Say what?" asked Sam, worriedly. "Please don't tell me to kill my fiancee, I already told Mom we were getting married."
"Sam, I need you to annoy Jerry until she turns back into a real person." He paused. "I suggest you start by throwing her out that window."
"WHAT?!" snapped Mister Davies.
"What?" asked Jerry, blinking.
"Oh," said Sam. "Okay."
As the shards of glass finished bouncing across the carpet, Kim leaned out the window and shouted, "You two crazy kids have fun destroyin' the countryside, and come home sane, y'hear?"
"You're a Healy," snapped Mister Davies. "What do you know about sane?"
"Oh, that's easy, silly," twinkled Kim. The levity faded quickly, replaced by a homicidal calm. "Sane has all the knives."
*
Basingstoke, England, Council Estate Grounds.
*
Jerry kept shrieking for a disturbingly long time after Sam picked her up and pitched her bodily out the window. Sure, a little screaming was sort of par for the course -- gravity always seemed to come as a surprise, even though it was a law of nature and everything -- but Jerry had always loved to go swinging with him. From practically the day they met, as soon as she stopped waiting for him to turn on them and sell them out for a bag of peanuts, she'd wanted to swing. So having her clinging to him in hysterics was a little disorienting. Also, and even more disorienting, she was entirely soft under her clothes. Not that he was trying to feel her up or anything, but with her clinging to him that way, well, a guy notices things, and what he was noticing was that she didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. Somehow, that was worse than all the rest of it. Even worse than the 'cunning monkey' crack. Well. Almost worse.
"Dude, stop screaming," he said peevishly, catching hold of a dangling eave and using it to hurtle them both towards a nearby tree. "You're breaking my concentration. Do I have to drop you?"
Jerry shrieked louder.
"Have it your way," Sam said, and let her go.
In practical terms, Jerry fell less than ten feet before he grabbed her again, using her momentum to swing them back towards the rafters. In terms of sheer volume, she fell for about eighty decibles. "What are you, the sound tech from Spinal Tap?" he asked, wincing.
"I am not a football, you insufferable heathen!" Jerry snapped. "Stop slinging me around like...like..."
"Like what?" Sam demanded, and dropped her again. This time, he let her almost hit the ground before he dropped down and caught her, swinging them up to the roof, where he allowed her to struggle out of his arms, feet sliding on the shingles. "Well? Like what?"
"Madman!" she shouted, and swung for him, her look of frustration only deepening as her fist failed to impact with anything but air. "Hold still! Fight me like a man!"
"You're the one who taught me to never stand still during a battle, Jerry," Sam said, spreading his hands. "Slinging you around like what?"
"I NEVER TAUGHT YOU ANYTHING!"
"You taught me everything! Slinging you around like what, Geraldine Harrington?"
"Gw--" Jerry started to answer, then caught herself, looking at him miserably. "Don't make me. Please. I don't want to. Don't make me."
"Don't want to what, Jer?" he asked, stepping towards her. She didn't shy away.
"I don't want to know. I don't want to be what they say I was."
Sam managed a faint, hopeful smile. "But I love who you were. Caltrops and all. Slinging you around like what?"
"Gwen-bloody-Stacy, as well you know," Jerry snapped. The vacancy was fading from her expression, rapidly. "Freefall is only fun when I'm prepared for it, you inconsiderate buffoon! I--"
"You've always been more of a Mary Jane to me," Sam said, and then there was no room for further conversation, on either part.
The Council Slayers watching from the grounds below found it quite educational, even if most of them had never considered a prehensile tail as a prerequisite in a boyfriend before.
*
Basingstoke, England, Mister Davies Office.
*
When Sam swung back in the window with Jerry tucked under one arm, he was surprised to see Mister Davies untied, sitting primly in his own desk chair, with Edward and Kim flanking him.
"And if you'll just sign here," Edward was saying, "we'll agree not to make you stand trial for an act of war against the American Council."
Kim looked up, eyebrows raising. "She sane yet?"
"I think so," Sam said, and glanced to Jerry. "Jer?" He paused, frowning. She was pressing a hand against her temple, face screwed up in concentration. "Jer, please don't break again, I don't like throwing her off buildings."
"Where did she get that ring?" Edward asked.
Sam and Kim both looked to the engagement ring glittering on Jerry's hand. Then, before Mister Davies had time to say a word, Sam yanked it off, flinging it into the air, where Kim shot it. The 'diamond' shattered into dust, falling to blend into the carpet, and Jerry passed out. Sam caught her before she could smack her head on the floor.
"Better," said Kim, approvingly, and turned back to the pair of Watchers. "Now, where were we?"
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estate.
*
Geraldine Harrington woke up in a large, four-posted bed with ruffles around the edges, in a room with rose-patterned wallpaper. She pushed herself up to her elbows, scowling at her surroundings in bleary dismay, only to find herself pulled back down as what felt like a rope tightened around her waist. Glancing down and to the side, she saw the slumbering form of Samuel Taylor, who had finally, after crossing half the world, been allowed to get some goddamn rest.
Smiling through her headache, Jerry let herself settle back to the bed, curled up against him, and closed her eyes.
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estate.
*
"So," said Leonard, rubbing his neck with one hand.
"So," Jerry agreed. Her own hands were occupied; one with holding her duffle, and the other with holding Sam's currently human hand. "I suppose this is it, then."
"You really don't have to go," Salila said, through gritted teeth.
"I rather think I do, actually," Jerry corrected. "I've promised Sam a tour of the family estate, and Leaf's taking Anna and the mice to Chedder for a tour, and Evie, Leo, and that lot are heading into London to terrorize the theater district. Edward, Carmen and Kim can handle the rest of the negotiations. We're figuring on no one trying to brainwash a Healy."
"That's because they all assume we don't have brains," said Kim, as she sauntered up. "You sure you two'll be all right?"
"Positive," said Jerry, and held up their tickets. "It's a straight train."
"An express," added Sam. Leonard had the good grace to look ashamed.
"Well, then," he said, "I suppose you must be off."
"Yeah, we must," said Sam, and all but dragged Jerry off towards the gates.
She didn't fight him at all.
*
Bristol, England, The Harrington Estate, Much Later.
*
"Jerry?"
"Mmmm?"
"Remember that message you left me?"
"Yes..."
"Want the reply?"
"...oh."
All things considered, this was substantially easier on their phone bills.
Rating: R.
Fandom: Covenant of the Slayer/Healy Compound.
Synopsis: What started as a simple assignment got damn complicated when no one was looking. From Watchers to Slayers, from sneak attacks to brain washing, with a side order of talking mice, thinks are going to get worse before they get better. Originally written for ceolyn, for the first Valentine's Day round of Iron Author -- the one in 2006 -- but it fetched up a bit on the 'longer than intended' side of things. As so often happens. You can find part one here, part two here, part three here, part four here, part five here, part six here, part seven here, part eight here, part nine here, and part ten over here.
We're finally done. I may weep from the joy of it all.
***
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
Samuel Coleridge Taylor was, in many ways, a man -- and monkey -- of simple desires, simple impulses, and simple needs. He liked football, even if he wasn't playing all that regularly anymore. He liked coffee. He liked watching television, providing he got to do it without a Greek chorus of Healy teens shouting at all the characters about how they'd be having more fun if they had more weapons. He liked swinging around in trees and from buildings, and was frequently saddened by the fact that he'd had to wait so long before he learned how much fun that was. And he liked Jerry.
In fact, if you really wanted to get right down to the heart of the matter -- if you wanted to make two lists, one titled 'Things Sam Likes' and one titled 'Things Sam DOESN'T Like' -- Jerry would factor heavily in both lists. The number one slot, actually. Only while the number one slot on 'Things Sam Likes' would read simply 'Jerry', the number one slot on 'Things Sam DOESN'T Like' would read 'People Hitting, Kicking, Attacking, Or Otherwise Hurting Jerry'.
Normally, Kim ranked pretty high on the 'Likes' list. Normally, Kim wasn't acting out the best parts of 'Slayers Gone Wild, Part V' in the middle of the floor. Given the circumstances, it wasn't really all that surprising that the overtired, underfed, seriously over-stressed monkey-man began wading his way through the fray towards the pair, simian lips pressed into a thin, grim line.
"Hiya, Sammy!" said Kim, with great good cheer. She flashed him a smile, dodging another of Jerry's wild roundhouses before knocking the darker Slayer's head against the floor. "I was wondering when you'd show up here! You wanna take over the beating?"
"Hands off," Sam snapped, and lunged for her.
Kim had always lived her life by the Healy creed, which included such useful tips as 'conditioner is for everybody', 'in a pinch, your underwire will make a functional garrote, unless you're below a C-cup', and 'always assume that your allies are going to attack you, and be completely prepared to take them down'. She'd had a fully functional plan for taking out Sam Taylor since the day Jerry called her and said 'I think I'm in love with a monkey demon'.
None of that changed the fact that Sam, when riled, moved at roughly the speed of your average bullet train. Or the fact that Sam, upon seeing his fiancee's head being treated like a basketball, was definitely riled. He didn't so much 'hit' Kim as 'impact', much like a satellite plummeting back to Earth after a catostrophic systems failure. Kim went flying.
Groaning, Edward covered his eyes.
"Dammit, Sam, you're attacking the wrong Slayer!" shouted Kim, just before he slammed her into the wall, wrapping his tail around her throat, and she found herself with much better things to worry about. Like breathing.
"Eddie!" cried Carmen, as she brained another Council Slayer with her makeshift hockey stick. "Who am I supposed to be attacking now?!"
"I don't bloody know anymore," Edward replied, shouting to make himself heard over the din of flesh hitting flesh, metal hitting metal, and Kim hitting monkey. "Anyone who looks like they need attacking! Just--" The rest of his statement was lost as he was forced to dive to the floor, narrowly avoiding a punch to the face.
"DON'T YOU HIT MY BOYFRIEND!" shrieked Carmen, beginning to wade her way through the fight, swatting anything that attempted to swat her out of the way.
Jerry, meanwhile, had bounced back to her feet, displaying that curious resiliancy that only seems to manifest itself in small children, puppies, vampire Slayers, and, of course, the terminally stupid. Given her current mental state, Jerry stood a reasonable chance of qualifying on all four counts; it was, perhaps, only natural that she was already up again, looking around with wide, bewildered eyes. Now that no one was actively attacking her, she was showing no inclination to rejoin the fight. Edward noted, as he ducked again, that she was very nearly posing -- stomach tucked in, chest heaving in a deeply unnerving manner, like she thought the cameras were rolling on her all the while.
"Fucking bastard's turned my baby sis into Misery Chastaine," he muttered, before shouting, "Oy, Kim! You haven't beaten the brainwashing out of her yet!"
"Busy now!" Kim shouted, in an unintended imitation of Sam's earlier declamation on the train. "Fightin' off my best friend's goddamn monkey! For fuck's sake, Sam, put me down!"
"Why were you hitting my fiancee?!" demanded Sam, shaking her for good measure.
Before Kim could answer, Leonard and his trio of trainees came running into the hall, following Suzy, who skidded to a stop and declared, loudly, "See? They're fighting in the halls!" Leaf, Lucy and Salila were only a few steps after them, having fallen behind as Sam ran to the rescue, forcing them to navigate the rest of the way by following the source of the greatest noise.
When Jerry spotted Leonard, she lit up like Disneyland's Main Street the week before Christmas. "Oh!" she exclaimed, in an operatically piercing tone, and tossed her hair back in a carefully calculated cascade of red-brown curls before spreading her arms, crying, "Oh, Leonard!" and flouncing over to throw her arms around him. "Oh, darling, I was so worried that you'd been swept into this dreadful brawl!"
"...oh my God, I may be sick," said Kim, in a tone of utter horror.
Sam dropped her.
For all that Kim Healy's figure was the envy of girls all around the Wisconsin pageant circuit -- and beyond, to the extent that some of the West Coast girls had faced her once, gone crawling home to Mommy's plastic surgeons, and come back for round two boasting suspiciously familiar-looking anatomical attributes -- it had a few failings. A lack of proper prosterior padding was one of them. "Ooooow!" she shouted, as Sam's ignomious release dropped her onto her insufficiently protected hiney. "Samuel Taylor, just because your honey's gone and gotten herself supernaturally lobotomized, that's no reason to go around behavin' like a Watcher!"
"Normally I'd take offense," muttered Edward.
Under normal circumstances, even Sam's somewhat atrophied sense of self-preservation would have goaded him into apologizing to Kim, under the reasoning that a Healy who's just been dropped is a Healy that's at eye-level with your groin, and probably both angry and armed. At the moment, however, all Sam's natural reactions were smothered under a veil of absolute disbelief.
Leonard, meanwhile, was being faced with problems of his own -- namely Jerry, who had wrapped herself around him like a particularly clingy straitjacket, and was doing her best to kiss away all the bruises he hadn't actually received during the fight he wasn't actually involved in. Lucy was staring, wide-eyed, which at least had the somewhat positive effect of keeping her from moving into the path of any of the Slayers who were still interested in hitting. The battle was dying by inches. Several of the larger Slayers were sitting on top of Evie, immobilizing her. Anna had a pile of girls that she'd managed to knock down, but was more interested in gaping at Jerry's public displays of affection than she was in making sure they stayed down. Carmen, having reached Edward, was simply standing there, mutely stunned.
"Eddie?" she asked, in a small voice. "Is this an evil spell?"
Shooting a poisonous glance at Mister Davies, who was struggling to pick himself up off the floor, Edward replied stiffly, "I certainly can't think of a better way to describe it."
"But...aren't evil spells supposed to break when someone kisses you?"
"I can't say as he's actually kissed her yet," said Kim, analytically, as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Mostly, she seems to be doin' all the kissing, while he stands there lookin' like an incubus with its leg stuck in a bear trap."
Despite her firm resolve to stay quiet and thus avoid an attack from the crazy people, Pam found herself asking, "How do you know what that looks like?"
"Uncle Harry's never so much learned to mind his step in the back forty."
"Your uncle's an incubus?" asked Anne.
"Yup," said Kim. "And his wife says most of the old stories, you didn't break the spell with a kiss, you broke it with a--"
"Jerry?" interrupted Sam, in a very, very small voice. It fell into the noise of the remaining fight like a lunch bell ringing in a crowded kindergarten. The Slayers still standing left off their attempts to bludgeon each other, turning to face what now appeared to be the world's saddest monkey. Oblivious to the look on her actual fiancee's face, the ensorcelled Jerry continued to smother Leonard in kisses, which now seemed loud enough to sound like gunshots. "Jerry, why are you kissing that man?"
The question, small and meekly asked as it was, was still enough to break Salila out of her own startled fugue. The London Slayer started to storm towards Jerry, a murderous expression in her narrowed eyes. Leaf grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to a stop.
Expression twisted with raw, unthinking fury, Salila whipped around to face her, hissing, "Let. Me. Go."
"Why, so you can get you skull cracked open?" Leaf demanded. "That is not an effective conduit for your anger! Try rhythmic breathing and rational debate!"
"I'll try rational debate with her corpse, how's that?" Salila said, trying to shake Leaf off.
Anne and Sophie exchanged a glance and nodded. Moving with the sort of unison that comes only from years of training or true understanding, they stepped over to Leaf and Salila, where Sophie put one hand on Salila's right shoulder and the other on her right elbow, while Anne, still burdened with the unconscious Linda, joined Leaf in holding down her left side.
"That's enough of that," said Anne, genially enough. Leaf shot the pair a grateful look, and Anne nodded to her. "Hello, miss. You know what's going on here? Only I don't think guessing is really going to work so good."
"They broke my Watcher!" shouted Evie, finally squirming free of her captors. She would have lunged for Mister Davies again if Anna hadn't grabbed her. Finding herself caught by the substantially larger Slayer, she was forced to settle for spitting at him, glaring daggers. "Make him put her back like she was right now!"
"Watcher?" said Sophie, looking bemused. "Which one's the Watcher?"
"The one trying to kiss the face off the guy you came in with," said Anna.
"HAIL THE INAPPROPRIATE DISPLAY OF PUBLIC AFFECTION! HAIL THE INEVITABLE GETTING OF THE HOSE-OR-A-ROOM!" shouted the mice.
This was, once again, enough to derail almost everyone for several seconds.
"Mice shouldn't talk," said Anne, finally. "That's just freaky."
Carmen stared at her. "You have super powers and this is like Hogwarts for the Type-A, and there's a man who looks like a giant monkey, and you have a problem with the talking mice?"
"Is somebody going to turn a pumpkin into a carriage?" Sophie asked. "Never could abide squash."
The Cinderella parallels of the situation were, thankfully, promptly upstaged by Sam, who covered the ground between himself and Jerry in several fast, unsteady steps, grabbing her shoulder with one long-fingered hand. "Jerry? Jer, you can stop now, you don't have to fake it anymore, we're here to take you home--"
"Oh, hello," said Jerry, turning away from the visibly relieved Leonard and offering Sam a vapid, glossy-eyed smile. "Have we met? Oh! Oh, my, sir, did you realize that you happen to be a monkey? Look, Leonard, look! A monkey! Oh, it's the most cunning little monkey I do believe I've ever lain my eyes upon! Leonard, Eddie, did you see the monkey?" Her smile faded, replaced by a scrunchy-faced look of perplexment. "Oh, my, but monkey, you do seem to have lost your adorable little hat. However shall you caper at the wedding without an adorable little hat?"
"Ain't a jury on the planet would convict him now," said Kim.
"Yes, Geraldine, I see the cunning little homicidal monkey," called Edward, before dropping his voice and asking, "For killing which one of them?"
"Oh, I'd say he could take his pick, really."
Sam, meanwhile, was staring at Jerry, his own expression managing to surpass hers for sheer confusion. "Did you just call me a 'cunning little monkey'?" he asked. He sounded even more bewildered than he looked.
"Oh!" said Jerry. "Oh, my, I am so dreadfully sorry, wherever are my manners? I'm Geraldine Harrington." She pressed one hand against her still-heaving bosom, fingers splayed wide, displaying her engagement ring.
The confusion faded from Sam's expression immediately, replaced by something new: cold, raw fury. "Where did you get that?" he demanded, grabbing for her hand. "That isn't the ring I gave you!"
"Mister Monkey!" snapped Jerry. She wasn't as fast as Sam -- nothing human really could be, not even a human who also happened to belong to the Chosen However-Many meant to defend the world from the forces of darkness -- but she'd been training with him for a very long time, and even if her conscious mind had forgotten, her reflexes remembered. She yanked her hand back before he could do much but grab her fingers, and slapped his hand away with the full brunt of her Slayer strength. His wrist promptly went numb. Sam barely noticed. "How dare you put your...your...your grabby, horrible paws on me?! Leonard, I do demand you defend my honour as your betrothed!"
"Oh, yes, Leonard, please, do defend her honour," said Edward, dryly. "After this day, we could use some entertainment."
"Five dollars on the monkey," said Anna.
"...you," said Sam, turning his attention from Jerry to Leonard. "You did this."
Leonard had been feeling like he had somehow been marooned in a bad BBC 1 comedy ever since he got onto the train. The feeling was only growing with each passing incident, and was now accompanied by the horrifying conviction that it was being directed by Russell T. Davies. He had the distinct feeling that when you were praying for the Daleks to show up, it was already too late...and yet, at that particular moment, he would most definitely have taken an invasion of Daleks over a Singari demon with murder in its eyes. Especially considering that his actual fiancee was just feet away, being restrained, barely, by three Slayers who might well decide to release her at any moment.
"Me?" he said, unable to prevent his voice from cracking. "I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything at all! We already talked about this! She and I! In the garden! When she was calling and leaving disturbingly explicit telephone messages for I-assume-it-was-you!" Edward groaned, putting a hand over his face. "I said I didn't want to marry her!"
"You said what?" demanded Jerry, turning to face him, eyebrows raised high.
"Huh," said Kim.
"Huh?" echoed Carmen.
"S'just that she actually sounded like her for a second there," said Kim, thoughtfully. "Which means--"
Pulling back her hand, Jerry decked him.
Leonard went down like a sack of bricks. "Yup," said Kim, with some satisfaction. "She's still in there."
Before she could say anything else, Salila uttered a shriek of gutteral rage, shrugging Leaf, Sophie and Anne -- and by extension, Linda -- off like so many paper dolls before lunging for Jerry. The brain-blasted Slayer barely had time to squeak with surprise before she went down in a frenzy of pummeling fists and kicking feet. And just like that, the battle was back on, with everyone hitting whatever seemed to be most in need of hitting.
It was, perhaps, inevitable that it was into the dead center of this vast, incomprehensible fray that Leo, Iggy, and Courtland teleported.
"All right!" said Leo, beaming with seemingly total unconcern for the fact that he was probably going to get his skull crushed like an egg at any second. "Now where's the bacon?"
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
Iggy really couldn't have put words to what she expected to find in England, had anyone ever bothered to ask her, which no one ever had. The England she knew was the land of Shakespeare, Kenneth Branaugh, Harry Potter, and illegal downloads of 'Doctor Who' and 'Torchwood'. Jerry and Evie had assured her repeatedly that England possessed many noteworthy qualities in addition to being the birthplace of modern literature and bad science fiction, but as their examples mostly centered on chocolate, sports figures, and a shop called 'Forbidden Planet', she'd never quite believed them. Regardless, she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to find when she finally got the opportunity to visit the United Kingdom...
...but a giant X-Men-style 'two teams enter, one team leaves' brawl definitely hadn't been at the top of her list.
"Oh, hey, Iggy!" said Carmen, with a strained, short-lived smile for the trio. "Courtland! Leo! Wow! You're here!" A tall, dark-skinned Slayer swung a club at her throat. Carmen parried with a sweep of her makeshift hockey stick. "Only this is maybe not the best time? We're in the middle of something right now."
"Does this mean no bacon sandwiches?" asked Leo, sounding deeply disappointed. On the other side of the fight, Evie's head whipped around, and she went ploughing through the crowd, scattering startled combatants in all directions as she slammed into the perplexed-looking teleporter, flinging her arms tightly around him. "Oh, hey, Evie. Hey, I got us here in one piece!"
"And it only took eight tries," added Courtland, before yanking Iggy out of the way of a somewhat over-enthusiastic Slayer. "Hey! Watch the witch, dummy! You break her, you bought her!"
"Leo they broke my Watcher!" wailed Evie.
"They did what?!" demanded Iggy, horrified. "Edward?!"
Grimly, Edward pointed towards the other side of the fight. Unable to stop herself, Iggy turned to look, and stared.
Jerry and Salila were circling each other, their raw fury enough to keep the other combatants from approaching them any more closely. Leonard was crumpled on the floor, Leaf and Lucy doing their best to get him up, while Sophie and Anne supported the slowly-waking Linda. Sam was just staring, with the most bleak expression Iggy had ever seen on the Singari's face. The smaller, darker of the two Slayers looked very nearly as distraught as he did, while Jerry...Jerry was practically glowing, her anger not distracting her from the vital business of squaring her shoulders, thrusting out her chest, and generally posing for a camera no one could see but her.
"Now see here, my good woman," she was saying, in a brisk tone that was probably intended to come off as no-nonsense, but really made her sound like the lead character in a badly-directed period romance. "I do understand the enchanting web that a handsome, well-to-do man from a good family line can throw over the help, but your behaviour here is simply shameless. I don't know what you hope to achieve by stealing my beloved away from me, but I assure you, in the end, common sense and proper breeding will reassert themselves, and we shall be reunited."
Kim made a gagging noise.
"You bitch," snarled Salila, and lunged for Jerry's throat.
Look of misery not changing, Sam reached out and grabbed Salila by the back of her collar, wrapping his tail around her hands and tying them together. "I don't know what's going on here," he said, miserably, "and I don't know why Jerry is calling me a 'cunning little monkey', although I really, really wish she'd stop, but even if she's just dumped me for the guy on the floor there, I can't let you hit her. It's against the good boyfriend code."
"Dumped you?" said Iggy.
"Cunning little monkey?" said Courtland.
"Who's that guy trying to sneak out the back while you guys kick the crap out of each other?" asked Leo.
Once again, the fighting stopped to allow all parties involved to turn their attention towards a single point -- in this case, Mister Davies, who had risen from his place on the floor, and was heading towards the end of the hall.
"HAIL THE THWARTED ESCAPE AND THE INEVITABLE KICKING OUT OF THE CRAP!" rejoiced the mice.
"Hail," agreed Anna, cracking her knuckles.
"Now, ain't that just like a Watcher?" drawled Kim. "Sorry, Eddie."
"Right now, I take positively no offense at any terms you might choose to use for my former associates," said Edward, dryly. "In point of fact, when we return to North America with my sister -- who will be accompanying us whether she likes it or not -- I may be putting forth a motion to change the term used for the local branch. 'Watcher' sounds too much like 'wanker' for my tastes."
"Now, silly, we've already got a local word for 'Watcher', doesn't sound damn near as much like 'pompous assholes that brainwash my best friend'."
"Oh? And what would that happen to be?"
Kim smirked. "Healy. Sam, the fella that Leo just pointed out? He's the one that went and blasted Jerry's brain to mush." A small smile curved the corners of her mouth upwards. "Sic 'im."
Later, most of the Council Slayers would swear that they hadn't seen, quote, 'the giant monkey-man move'. Even the people who were used to Sam and how unnaturally fast he could be when he had the proper motivation found themselves unable to follow his trajectory, as he abruptly released Salila, leaping for the wall, rebounding off the side of a heavy bookshelf, which began to topple, and used the momentum to slam, feet-first, into Mister Davies's back. The senior Watcher found himself once more on the floor, this time pinned by two hundred pounds of angry monkey.
The bookshelf finished its fall in total silence, scattering its contents across the floor. The freed Salila took two steps forward and slapped Jerry across the face, before bursting into tears. Jerry reeled backwards, then -- with a look of utter contempt for the smaller Slayer -- turned to reach for Leonard, asking, "Darling, are you all right?"
Leonard slapped her hands away. Loving, supernaturally-enhanced concern turned into confusion, then betrayal, as Jerry, too, burst into tears.
"Wow," said Leo, looking around, eyes wide. "These Watchers sure know how to party."
*
Ithaca, Wisconsin, The Healy Compound.
*
"Katherine?"
"Yes, mama?"
"Where'd that dog-boy go? We're havin' bacon sandwiches for lunch."
"Oh, the scary witch-girl that Kim brought home grabbed him and said he had to teleport her and her boyfriend to England so they could hit some Watchers. 'least that's what Bobby said, and he was playin' catch with Leo when she did it."
"Oh. I suppose that means he won't be wanting lunch, then."
"Probably not, mama."
"All right, sweetheart. Go wash up."
"What kind of bacon?"
"Lembir demon."
"Oh, boy!"
Pointlessly convoluted plots may be masterminded by the Watchers Council and foiled by angry monkeys, but at the Healy Compound, life goes on.
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
Peeling Sam off Mister Davies had been substantially more difficult than scattering the Council Slayers. Most of them had little to no field experience, after all, and as Pam put it, once it had been established that really, Edward was a genuine, non-evil Watcher who just wanted his sister to be returned to her normal, deeply-snarky state of mind, "We don't mind fighting the forces of evil, but giant monkeys, hockey players, beauty queens, and talking mice make it all just a little bit too weird for us."
Sam, on the other hand, had little to no inclination to be dissuaded from throttling the life out of Mister Davies, a conviction which only grew every time he glanced at Jerry's tear-streaked face. He didn't like seeing Jerry cry under the best of circumstances. Seeing her cry because she was hopelessly in love with another man? One who didn't want her? Really wasn't doing much to help his mood.
"Sam, sugar, you gotta get off the nice Watcher now, so's we can take him back into his office and ram bamboo slivers up underneath his fingernails," said Kim gently, putting her hand against the back of his neck.
Lucy, who had been trying to staunch the bleeding of Leonard's nose, looked up with visible alarm. "I do beg your pardon?"
"Don't worry about it," said Anna. "I mean, you people've what, wiped the mind of a girl who used to be a part of the Council? No matter what we do, we'll still be the civilized ones here."
"Whore!" spat Salila. "Stupid American whore! Take your traitor and go home!" Sam glowered at her. She returned the expression, her own tears causing her mascara to run in heavy lines down her cheeks. "Don't you look at me like that! None of us asked you to come here!"
"We were offering you an alliance, you little cow," said Edward, in a tone made dry and heavy with exhaustion. "All right, ladies and gentlemen: I have had quite enough of this. You girls -- what are your names?"
"I'm Anne, and this is Sophie," volunteered the largest of the remaining non-American Slayers. "The crazy one over there communing with your talking mice, that's Linda. She'll probably decide they're unhygenic in a few minutes, so I'd be braced for that if I were you."
"I'll take that under advisement," Edward replied. "I assume you're new arrivals?"
"Just picked up from Heathrow."
"Excellent. Then we can be reasonably sure of getting an impartial opinion from you. Now. Given what you've seen of the situation, what do you think is going on?"
"Not a damn clue, but it's better'n Neighbors," volunteered Sophie. Carmen and Evie turned to eye the Australian Slayer, who shrugged. "You lot're weird. Still, it's a sight better'n the crap they were showing on the plane."
"The boy with the bloody nose was betrothed as a child to the crying brown-haired girl, who's currently under a fairly elaborate mind-control spell that's supposed to become permanent on her wedding night, only he thought she was dead and he was always a little scared of her family, anyway, so he went and fell in love with someone less likely to kill him in a fit of pique, and now he doesn't want the first girl, but that's all right, because she wouldn't want him either, if she were thinking like herself. She wants to marry the monkey. And all the rest of you are her friends, and you came here to stop her from marrying someone she wasn't in love with," said Linda, placidly. Every head turned towards her.
"God help me, I'm gonna regret asking this, but how do you know, sweetheart?" said Kim.
"The mice told me."
"Oh, good," said Carmen, with visible relief. "The normal way."
"This is all well and good -- and confusing and weird, so I guess it's status quo -- but it's not making Jerry any less Stepford-ized," Courtland said. "She keeps tossing her hair. It's seriously creeping me out."
"You could beat the brainwashing out of her," Leo suggested. Sam growled. Leo put up the hand not occupied with stroking Evie's hair in a comforting, entirely not-taking-advantage-of-jailbait where the Watchers could see manner, saying, "What? It works."
"Already tried it," Kim said, walking over to tug on Sam's shoulder. "Up, Sammy. You gotta get up. We can't fix Jerry if he's dead."
Sam turned a bleak face towards her, asking, "What if you can't fix Jerry at all?"
Kim's mouth thinned to a hard line. "If Jerry can't be put back to her normal sort of broken, I let you kill him."
"Not. A. Word," cautioned Eddie, shooting a look towards the Cunningham siblings.
"Wasn't going to say one," said Leonard, putting a hand on his sister's shoulder and using it to lever himself to his feet. Turning a hard look towards Mister Davies, he offered his other hand towards Salila. "Fix this, sir. If you're half the Watcher you've always told me I was obligated to be, fix this."
"Geraldine?"
Putting on a theatrically brave face, Jerry turned wide, dewy eyes towards her brother, and breathed, "Yes, Edward?"
Eddie winced. It was necessary, but in her current condition, even necessary deception felt uncomfortably like endulging in a battle of wits with the congenitally unarmed. "Do you want to get married, Geraldine?"
"Oh, yes, Edward! Yes, I do!" Jerry clasped her hands to her heaving breast. "Oh, whatever must I do?"
"It seems that Mister Davies has betrayed the Council. Have you ever heard of a love spell?"
"Oh, my!" Jerry's eyes went wide and round with shock. "You mean he's influenced the passions of my dearest beloved?" She shot a poisonous glance towards Salila.
"The girl wasn't involved, sugar," Kim hastened to said. "But yeah, there's a love spell makin' things a little trickier than they ought to be. Now, if you can just help the monkey here with gettin' the bad Watcher into the office, we can see about getting it broken."
"And then can I be married?" asked Jerry hopefully.
"Yes, dear," said Eddie. "One way or another, I suppose you can."
"Oh! I shall help, and gladly!" Jerry came flouncing over, tears forgotten as she bent to take Mister Davies by the arm. "Come, cunning mister monkey! I shall forgive you all this silly brawling if only we can have my proper engagement restored!"
"Your words to God's ears," Eddie muttered, and followed maid, monkey, semi-comatose Watcher, and Wisconsin beauty queen into the Head of Council's office.
They closed the door behind them.
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estates.
*
The remaining inhabitants of the hall -- Carmen, Anna, Evie, Leo, Leonard, Salila, Lucy, Leaf, Sophie, Anne, Linda, Iggy, Courtland, and, of course, the mice -- stared at the closed door for several moments before turning to regard each other with varying degrees of recognition, suspicion and dismay. It was, perhaps, only natural that it was Courtland who broke the silence first, demanding, "Somebody wanna tell me what the fuck is going on around here? The version that doesn't come from a bunch of talking demon mice that think my girlfriend's some sorta religious figure because she fixed my transmission?"
"HAIL THE REPAIRING OF THE GODDAMN THING THAT WON'T WORK!" rejoiced the mice.
Courtland jabbed a finger towards the rodents. "See, that's what I'm talkin' about. Can I get the Cliff's Notes version for the guy that wasn't even supposed to be here today?"
"And can I get a bacon sandwich?" asked Leo. Evie eyed him. He shrugged. "What? Iggy said I could have ten bacon sandwiches if I teleported her and Courtland to England. Either this is England, or Disneyworld built a new area at Epcot, and either way, I'm supposed to be chowing down on Porky Pig by now."
"If you'd all just follow me to the cafeteria, I think we can get things cleared up," said Leonard. He was making no move to dislodge Salila from his arm, although he kept wincing and touching the side of his head, and his nose was continuing to bleed freely, despite Lucy's best efforts. "Bacon and exposition for all."
"Are all Watchers like this guy?" asked Leo, with a broad grin. "'cause if they are, I so don't get why you guys quit."
"No," said Evie hotly. "Most Watchers are big stupid-heads who brain-melt my Watcher!"
"But...Evie, you call your Watcher a big stupid-head all the time."
"That's different!"
"Everyone!" The sound of Leaf raising her voice was unusual enough to get the immediate attention of everyone who knew her, and their sudden expressions of bemused attention were enough to quiet the rest. "Everyone, please. There's been enough violence and bad vibes around here today. Let's all just go to the cafeteria, have a nice cup of tea, and wait while Edward takes care of things."
That seemed to be the tipping point that everyone had been waiting for. The group gathered itself, and turned, with a minimum amount of grumbling, to follow Leonard down the hall towards the cafeteria.
Carmen moved to walk alongside Leaf, eyeing her curiously. "You really think we should just be sitting and drinking tea?"
"No," said Leaf, with a thin, entirely un-Leaf-like smile. "I think we should be taking this place apart, one brick at a time, and then throwing them at people. But that would be unproductive and bad for karma. So I'm going to have a nice cup of tea, instead."
"Oh," said Carmen, mystified.
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
*
Basingstoke, England, Mister Davies Office.
*
Mister Davies awoke to find himself looking straight into the cheerful, slightly lunatic eyes of Kimberley Alice Healy, titular heir to a legacy that began when her several-times-great-grandmother kicked a Watcher in the testicles for daring to put an unwanted hand on her elbow. He rather promptly wished that he hadn't.
Glancing around the room as much as his inexplicably limited range of motion would allow, he found himself with a rather severe dearth of allies. There was the Harrington boy, scowling darkly, with his idiot sister behind him, preening in the reflection cast by a good tenth-century Orb of Ocypete. A baleful-looking Singari demon rounded out what he could only assume was the crew assigned to torture him, dangling by its tail from the ceiling fixtures. He took a moment to wonder, academically, whether the chandelier could actually stand up to being dangled from, then dismissed the thought as irrelevant. Repair bills aside, the fact that he couldn't move was substantially more worrisome.
"If you're operating at full mental facilities, which you ought to be, you'll have just started asking yourself why you can't move," said Edward Harrington, in a voice that was all the more chilling because it was so effortlessly calm. "You'll be moving on to wondering how we were able to defeat your Slayers, when we were so patently out-numbered, and when you had every resource at your disposal. After that, well, I assume you'll be heading straight towards planning your escape. So if we can just skip all that nonsense and get straight to the part where you realize that you don't have an avenue for getting out of here, admit defeat, and tell us how to break your little parlour trick love spell, we'll all be much happier."
"An' if that idea doesn't suit your fancy," Kim offered, with substantially more cheer, "we can give you to Evelyn Mason. Poor little lamb's in quite a state since her Watcher forgot who she was. She could use a way to work out her agressions."
Even through the growing conviction that he was probably going to die, Mister Davies found it in him to utter a short, sharp bark of laughter. "Watcher? I'm horribly sorry. I wasn't aware that we had any Watchers suffering from amnesia."
"No?" Kim cast a meaningful look towards Jerry, who had moved on to finger-combing her hair while the Singari looked on longingly. For a brief moment, the look seemed to be one of...no. Absolutely not. Mister Davies shoved the thought forcibly aside. Perverted and debased by the Americans the Harringtons might be, but no scion of a centuries-old Watcher family would ever stoop so low as that.
"Absolutely not," Mister Davies replied. "I believe the exact words of the individual in question were 'hate you, hate the Council, taking my Slayer'? She left us. We did not raise our hands against our own."
"No, you raised them against the diplomatic representative of a foreign power seeking an alliance," said Edward, rather more sharply than he intended. They might have the current head of the Watcher's Council tied up and propped against his own desk, but that wasn't going to mean a damn thing if the man had meant it when he called his spell 'unbreakable'. "Bad form. Return her to her original condition, if you would be so kind?"
"Much as my current circumstances genuinely compell me to go along with you, I'm afraid that I can't," Mister Davies replied. "Geraldine?"
"Yes, sir?" the Slayer chirped, turning to face him, then pouting prettily as she remembered that she was supposed to be angry with him.
"Geraldine, my dear, what have these people told you about what's going on?"
"Oh!" Her brow wrinkled with the obvious effort of thought. Her frown deepened. "They said you'd done a dreadful thing, sir. A love spell that was responsible for my not being able to married properly."
"I see. Well, my dear, I promise we'll do our best to get that cleared right up, but first I need to ask you a very important question. Will you promise to answer just as honestly as you can? It's very important."
"You will, sir? Oh, thank you, sir!" Jerry positively twinkled, causing Kim Healy to make a gagging gesture, which she dutifully ignored. "I'll do anything, sir."
"Well, dear, these people are saying that the spell was cast on you. That without it, you wouldn't want Leonard at all. You'd want to run off to America, and pretend to be a Watcher, while running about without guidance of the Council. Now, my dear, if that were true...would you want the spell reversed?"
Jerry's mouth had become a small round 'o' of horror. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, dear! Oh, no, sir, I'm happy as I am, sir! I'm loyal to the Council!"
"You see?" If Mister Davies had been able to gesture towards her, he would have done so. As it was, he had to content himself with smirking smugly. "She has no interest in going back with you."
"You bastard," said Edward, staring at him. "You didn't."
"Oh, no, son, I'm afraid I did."
"Eddie?" asked Sam, uncertainly. "What did he do to Jerry?"
"He's caught her in Moebius spell!"
Kim looked horrified. Sam just looked confused.
"A Moebius spell?" he asked. "Is that like a Moebius strip? He's gonna turn her into construction paper?"
"A Moebius spell," said Eddie, darkly, "is a recursive sort of effect. It can't be broken unless she wants it to be broken."
"And I don't," said Jerry, staunchly. "I like my life."
"Can I kill him now, Eddie?" Kim asked. "It'd be fun. I wouldn't even have to break a nail. My manicure can stand up to anything."
"We're not barbarians, Kimberley," Edward said. "If we're going to kill him, everyone gets a turn."
Sam dropped down from the ceiling, landing without a stumble. "You can't like your life," he informed Jerry, almost pleading as he started to walk towards her.
"Why in the entire world not?" she asked. "It has everything a girl could need to be truly happy!"
"Yeah, but it doesn't have me," he said.
"You?" Jerry laughed. "As if there's anything you could do to make me happy?"
"Oh, there's something," said Sam, and -- again with that impossible, inhuman speed -- he wrapped his tail around her waist, yanked her close, and kissed her.
*
Basingstoke, England, Council Estate Cafeteria.
*
"I think they're gonna explode," said Carmen, sounding awed.
"I think I'm gonna explode just from watching them," said Courtland.
"I think we should be hitting something," complained Anna.
"HAIL THE BACON SANDWICH EATING COMPETITION!" rejoiced the mice.
Ignoring the chaos around them, Suzy and Leo, having finally found adversaries worthy of their individual levels of skill, continued to eat.
*
Basingstoke, England, Mister Davies Office.
*
"EEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUEW!" shrieked Jerry piercingly, shoving Sam away. "Monkey cooties! Demon cooties! Demon-monkey cooties! Get them off me!"
"There was a time I would have paid to hear those words," muttered Edward. "Samuel, I'm afraid this isn't Sleeping Beauty, you can't kiss her back to sanity."
"Kinda too bad," said Kim.
"No, really, that's my baby sister, it's not too bad at all," said Edward. "You people already owe me sufficient therapy."
Sam glanced away from the time-consuming business of keeping Jerry from hitting him -- a feat accomplished largely by tying her wrists together with his tail, then holding her as far away from him as possible -- and demanded, "If that won't work, what will?"
"Oh, good Christ, Sam, you're chafing my bloody wrists!" snapped Jerry.
Every head in the room (save for Mister Davies's, which remained safely immobilized by Kim's Merit Badge-winning knots) whipped around to stare at her. The vapid expression was already back in place...but they'd all heard it crack.
"She sounded like herself when she was hittin' me," noted Kim.
"...they've built a persona that doesn't know how to contend with socially unusual rage," said Edward, slowly. "Samuel, I don't believe I'm about to say this."
"Say what?" asked Sam, worriedly. "Please don't tell me to kill my fiancee, I already told Mom we were getting married."
"Sam, I need you to annoy Jerry until she turns back into a real person." He paused. "I suggest you start by throwing her out that window."
"WHAT?!" snapped Mister Davies.
"What?" asked Jerry, blinking.
"Oh," said Sam. "Okay."
As the shards of glass finished bouncing across the carpet, Kim leaned out the window and shouted, "You two crazy kids have fun destroyin' the countryside, and come home sane, y'hear?"
"You're a Healy," snapped Mister Davies. "What do you know about sane?"
"Oh, that's easy, silly," twinkled Kim. The levity faded quickly, replaced by a homicidal calm. "Sane has all the knives."
*
Basingstoke, England, Council Estate Grounds.
*
Jerry kept shrieking for a disturbingly long time after Sam picked her up and pitched her bodily out the window. Sure, a little screaming was sort of par for the course -- gravity always seemed to come as a surprise, even though it was a law of nature and everything -- but Jerry had always loved to go swinging with him. From practically the day they met, as soon as she stopped waiting for him to turn on them and sell them out for a bag of peanuts, she'd wanted to swing. So having her clinging to him in hysterics was a little disorienting. Also, and even more disorienting, she was entirely soft under her clothes. Not that he was trying to feel her up or anything, but with her clinging to him that way, well, a guy notices things, and what he was noticing was that she didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. Somehow, that was worse than all the rest of it. Even worse than the 'cunning monkey' crack. Well. Almost worse.
"Dude, stop screaming," he said peevishly, catching hold of a dangling eave and using it to hurtle them both towards a nearby tree. "You're breaking my concentration. Do I have to drop you?"
Jerry shrieked louder.
"Have it your way," Sam said, and let her go.
In practical terms, Jerry fell less than ten feet before he grabbed her again, using her momentum to swing them back towards the rafters. In terms of sheer volume, she fell for about eighty decibles. "What are you, the sound tech from Spinal Tap?" he asked, wincing.
"I am not a football, you insufferable heathen!" Jerry snapped. "Stop slinging me around like...like..."
"Like what?" Sam demanded, and dropped her again. This time, he let her almost hit the ground before he dropped down and caught her, swinging them up to the roof, where he allowed her to struggle out of his arms, feet sliding on the shingles. "Well? Like what?"
"Madman!" she shouted, and swung for him, her look of frustration only deepening as her fist failed to impact with anything but air. "Hold still! Fight me like a man!"
"You're the one who taught me to never stand still during a battle, Jerry," Sam said, spreading his hands. "Slinging you around like what?"
"I NEVER TAUGHT YOU ANYTHING!"
"You taught me everything! Slinging you around like what, Geraldine Harrington?"
"Gw--" Jerry started to answer, then caught herself, looking at him miserably. "Don't make me. Please. I don't want to. Don't make me."
"Don't want to what, Jer?" he asked, stepping towards her. She didn't shy away.
"I don't want to know. I don't want to be what they say I was."
Sam managed a faint, hopeful smile. "But I love who you were. Caltrops and all. Slinging you around like what?"
"Gwen-bloody-Stacy, as well you know," Jerry snapped. The vacancy was fading from her expression, rapidly. "Freefall is only fun when I'm prepared for it, you inconsiderate buffoon! I--"
"You've always been more of a Mary Jane to me," Sam said, and then there was no room for further conversation, on either part.
The Council Slayers watching from the grounds below found it quite educational, even if most of them had never considered a prehensile tail as a prerequisite in a boyfriend before.
*
Basingstoke, England, Mister Davies Office.
*
When Sam swung back in the window with Jerry tucked under one arm, he was surprised to see Mister Davies untied, sitting primly in his own desk chair, with Edward and Kim flanking him.
"And if you'll just sign here," Edward was saying, "we'll agree not to make you stand trial for an act of war against the American Council."
Kim looked up, eyebrows raising. "She sane yet?"
"I think so," Sam said, and glanced to Jerry. "Jer?" He paused, frowning. She was pressing a hand against her temple, face screwed up in concentration. "Jer, please don't break again, I don't like throwing her off buildings."
"Where did she get that ring?" Edward asked.
Sam and Kim both looked to the engagement ring glittering on Jerry's hand. Then, before Mister Davies had time to say a word, Sam yanked it off, flinging it into the air, where Kim shot it. The 'diamond' shattered into dust, falling to blend into the carpet, and Jerry passed out. Sam caught her before she could smack her head on the floor.
"Better," said Kim, approvingly, and turned back to the pair of Watchers. "Now, where were we?"
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estate.
*
Geraldine Harrington woke up in a large, four-posted bed with ruffles around the edges, in a room with rose-patterned wallpaper. She pushed herself up to her elbows, scowling at her surroundings in bleary dismay, only to find herself pulled back down as what felt like a rope tightened around her waist. Glancing down and to the side, she saw the slumbering form of Samuel Taylor, who had finally, after crossing half the world, been allowed to get some goddamn rest.
Smiling through her headache, Jerry let herself settle back to the bed, curled up against him, and closed her eyes.
*
Basingstoke, England, The Council Estate.
*
"So," said Leonard, rubbing his neck with one hand.
"So," Jerry agreed. Her own hands were occupied; one with holding her duffle, and the other with holding Sam's currently human hand. "I suppose this is it, then."
"You really don't have to go," Salila said, through gritted teeth.
"I rather think I do, actually," Jerry corrected. "I've promised Sam a tour of the family estate, and Leaf's taking Anna and the mice to Chedder for a tour, and Evie, Leo, and that lot are heading into London to terrorize the theater district. Edward, Carmen and Kim can handle the rest of the negotiations. We're figuring on no one trying to brainwash a Healy."
"That's because they all assume we don't have brains," said Kim, as she sauntered up. "You sure you two'll be all right?"
"Positive," said Jerry, and held up their tickets. "It's a straight train."
"An express," added Sam. Leonard had the good grace to look ashamed.
"Well, then," he said, "I suppose you must be off."
"Yeah, we must," said Sam, and all but dragged Jerry off towards the gates.
She didn't fight him at all.
*
Bristol, England, The Harrington Estate, Much Later.
*
"Jerry?"
"Mmmm?"
"Remember that message you left me?"
"Yes..."
"Want the reply?"
"...oh."
All things considered, this was substantially easier on their phone bills.