154 fic: Shelf Life (3/3)
Title: Shelf Life - part 3
Author: Beer Good (beer_good_foamy)
Prompt: 154: The Trial (and a few other modernists)
Fandom: Buffy s5-ish, w/crossovers
Characters: Ensemble
Word Count: ~1675
Summary: You take one Magic Box, one brand-new shelf of fiction, one spell gone slightly wonky, and suddenly our heroes find themselves fully booked. Geddit? Booked? Well, you will.
Book The Third: In Which There Is No Justice
Someone must have been telling lies about the Scoobies; they knew they had done nothing wrong, but that morning they were arrested.
"Under arrest for WHAT?" Buffy demanded of the two men, dressed all in black, who had suddenly appeared in the Magic Box to give them the news.
"That is something we are not allowed to tell you," one of the men replied in a tone that suggested it was the most absurd idea he'd ever heard. "If I were you, I wouldn't waste time with pointless questions, you'll need to prepare your defense. In the meantime," he looked around the Magic Box, "have you considered selling this place? After all, once you're convicted, it won't do you any good anymore, and you're going to need money for a good attourney. We'd be happy to take the store off your hands for a reasonable sum before then."
Giles sighed deeply as Buffy went on arguing with the arresting officers.
"So let me get this straight. We're all under arrest?"
"That's what we said, Miss S."
"And you won't tell us what we're accused of?"
"We cannot."
"And if I ask to see an arrest warrant...?"
"It will be taken as an admission of partial guilt. After all, if there is an arrest warrant, then there must have been a crime, and if you suspect that your name might be on the arrest warrant, then you must have had something to do with it." The man smiled patiently. "And you really don't want to get on our bad side, either. Right now, we're the best friends you have. So, about this place -"
"No. No way. You're getting out of here right this second, and if you think you're bringing us in with you -"
"Oh, you misunderstand me. We are not here to place you in custody, simply to inform you that you are under arrest. You are free to go anywhere as long as you report to the proper court at the proper time for your hearing. Failure to report for your hearing will count as an admission of guilt."
"And how will I know -"
"Naturally, turning up at the proper court at the proper time will count as a partial admission of guilt since in knowing which court is handling your case, you're admitting that you know what you're guilty of."
"But we're NOT guilty. Of anything."
"Of course not, Miss S." The man winked at her, raised his hat and left together with his colleague, who stuffed his pocket with various magic trinkets on the way out.
Everyone stood there, dumbstruck. "OK," Xander finally said, "what the h-"
"We're in The Trial," Giles sighed with that special tone of voice he reserved for impending apocalypses.
"But that's ridiculous," Xander said. "The spell that threw us into a bunch of books before threw us into the books. We're in Sunnydale now." He checked the window to make sure. "Yup, Sunnydale. So how can we be in... which book did you say?"
"The Trial, Franz Kafka's final novel, in which the protagonist Josef K is arrested for a crime he hasn't committed. He's never told what it is he's accused of, he's never given a trial, he just keeps understanding less and less until at the end -"
Anya interrupted him. "So what sort of moron would accuse somebody of doing something and not tell them what it is they're accused of? I know a little something about justice, and that makes no sense at all. It's stupid. What's the point?"
"That's what literary scholars have been debating since the 1920s. And the fact that we're still in Sunnydale is probably a sign that not only is the spell still active, but it's starting to break down the walls of reality... or possibly that The Trial is such a vague and still very relevant work that its setting isn't very important."
Willow shrugged. "So, what's the big? We just find this Joseph guy, give him a happy ending, and problem solved."
Giles sighed. "I'm afraid it's not as easy as that. You see, there is no happy ending in The Trial. That's pretty much the point of it; there is simply no way through it that could conceivably end happily, no choice he could make that would get him off the hook. Everything is stacked against him, everyone who claims to try to help him knows as little as he does, and ultimately it can only end in pointless death."
As if on cue, the little bell above the door jangled as a professionally dressed woman stepped into the store and walked up to them. "So... you're them? Huh. Have to say, you're pretty much what I expected."
"Um... can I help you?" Giles asked.
She smiled, crocodile-like. "It's the other way around, Mr Giles. My name is Lilah Morgan, I'm from the lawfirm of Wolfram & Hart, and I've been hired by the Watcher's Council - who are very disappointed in you, by the way, and want you to know that neither you nor your Slayer have ever or will ever live up to their expectations, no matter what you do - to represent you in this trial that you've gotten yourselves into."
"We haven't -"
"Now, there are three ways I could try to defend you. I could go for an acquittal, which of course only works if you're innocent, so that's out..."
"But we are innocent!" Dawn protested.
"Of what?"
"Of... uh..."
"Would you mind if I conferred with my colleagues, Miss Morgan?" Giles ushered the others over towards the back of the store. "You see what I mean. I dare say we're, uh, screwed."
"Huh," Buffy said and looked at the big table, where the ingredients for Willow's and Tara's amazonian kindlich spell still sat. "Or we could just break the spell once and for all."
"...Or we could just break the spell once and for all," Giles agreed after thinking about it for about four seconds. "There's just one problem."
"I know what you mean," Tara nodded. "It's not done yet. The spell needs to run its course."
Xander didn't agree. "Look, we're about to be executed by the German government -"
"Czechoslovakian government, actually," Giles interjected.
"- Czechoslovakian government. I honestly couldn't care less if the precious little spell has run its course."
"I agree," Buffy said. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Well..." Tara walked over to the bookshelf and pointed at the books. "So far we've gone from classical literature through early modern, and right now we're up to modernism, and the newest book here came out last year... If we break the spell now we'll probably get out of The Trial, but there's a good chance we'll have all the remaining works dumped on us all at once. P-probably not permanently, but until the magic dissipates..."
"ALL of them?" Buffy groaned.
"At least up to post-modernism. We might be safe after that."
Everyone glanced over at Lilah, who was thumbing through a huge stack of what had to be legal papers with a look of gleeful anticipation that sent shivers down their spines. Buffy turned back to the table. "Right. I say we take our chances with the bookshelf. After all, how bad could it possibly be?"
***
The following hours provided an interesting answer to that question. Giles wasn't much help; having decided the situation required a cup of tea, he made the mistake of dipping a madeleine cookie into it and then sat motionless for hours, lost in memories - which was probably for the best, since it meant that only Dawn had to suffer through Jay Gatsby bragging at length about how much more impressive his own library was. Willow, who had been secretly nursing a geeky hope that the boat she suddenly found herself on would be taking her to the Shire, was dismayed to find herself heading up the Congo instead to find Mr Kurtz. Anya lost herself in a long stream-of-consiousness monologue about sex, which would probably have embarrassed Xander if he hadn't been distracted by the icky - and ultimately very gratifying - situation of catching Humbert Humbert making a pass at Dawn and beating the crap out of him. Tara was nearly driven insane by a band of lunatics including an infernal-looking man in a tall hat, a talking cat, and a very naked woman. Meanwhile, Buffy lay in a trench, ducking gunfire and watching for butterflies. And so on and so forth.
Eventually, the magic dissipated and everything started returning to normal. The bookshelf had tipped over, its contents spilled all over the Magic Box floor, and they all lay panting in front of it when the back door opened and Spike walked in.
"Blimey, you people are lazy. It's barely dark outside and you're already asleep? If this is what passes for fighting evil these days, I'm almost embarrassed."
"SHUT UP, SPIKE." The vote was unanimous.
He chuckled softly to himself as he looked around, noticing the pile of books and went over to pick one up. "Oh. Orlando. I remember this one, it's the one where the bloke turns into a wo-"
ZAP.
"Um... Will?" Buffy asked, staring in dismay at Spike. "Was it supposed to do that?"
"That was probably the last of the magic. I hope." Willow winced. "Spike? Are you feeling OK...?"
"Oh, I feel just... smashing," Spike cooed, stretching her long, womanly legs. "And I've a newfound appreciation for the unfair role of women in society, too."
"Um... do you think we should turn him... her... back?" Tara reached for the spellbook on the table.
"Why?" Buffy mused. "I mean, it's not that big a difference, really."
"Also, I don't know about you, but I've had enough books for one day," Giles moaned.
"Yeah," Willow agreed. "Spike? Is it OK if we get back to you tomorrow...?"
"Oh yeah," Spike agreed, feeling her new body. "No hurry at all."
And the twelfth stroke of midnight sounded, and all was well that ended well.
Author: Beer Good (beer_good_foamy)
Prompt: 154: The Trial (and a few other modernists)
Fandom: Buffy s5-ish, w/crossovers
Characters: Ensemble
Word Count: ~1675
Summary: You take one Magic Box, one brand-new shelf of fiction, one spell gone slightly wonky, and suddenly our heroes find themselves fully booked. Geddit? Booked? Well, you will.
Book The Third: In Which There Is No Justice
Someone must have been telling lies about the Scoobies; they knew they had done nothing wrong, but that morning they were arrested.
"Under arrest for WHAT?" Buffy demanded of the two men, dressed all in black, who had suddenly appeared in the Magic Box to give them the news.
"That is something we are not allowed to tell you," one of the men replied in a tone that suggested it was the most absurd idea he'd ever heard. "If I were you, I wouldn't waste time with pointless questions, you'll need to prepare your defense. In the meantime," he looked around the Magic Box, "have you considered selling this place? After all, once you're convicted, it won't do you any good anymore, and you're going to need money for a good attourney. We'd be happy to take the store off your hands for a reasonable sum before then."
Giles sighed deeply as Buffy went on arguing with the arresting officers.
"So let me get this straight. We're all under arrest?"
"That's what we said, Miss S."
"And you won't tell us what we're accused of?"
"We cannot."
"And if I ask to see an arrest warrant...?"
"It will be taken as an admission of partial guilt. After all, if there is an arrest warrant, then there must have been a crime, and if you suspect that your name might be on the arrest warrant, then you must have had something to do with it." The man smiled patiently. "And you really don't want to get on our bad side, either. Right now, we're the best friends you have. So, about this place -"
"No. No way. You're getting out of here right this second, and if you think you're bringing us in with you -"
"Oh, you misunderstand me. We are not here to place you in custody, simply to inform you that you are under arrest. You are free to go anywhere as long as you report to the proper court at the proper time for your hearing. Failure to report for your hearing will count as an admission of guilt."
"And how will I know -"
"Naturally, turning up at the proper court at the proper time will count as a partial admission of guilt since in knowing which court is handling your case, you're admitting that you know what you're guilty of."
"But we're NOT guilty. Of anything."
"Of course not, Miss S." The man winked at her, raised his hat and left together with his colleague, who stuffed his pocket with various magic trinkets on the way out.
Everyone stood there, dumbstruck. "OK," Xander finally said, "what the h-"
"We're in The Trial," Giles sighed with that special tone of voice he reserved for impending apocalypses.
"But that's ridiculous," Xander said. "The spell that threw us into a bunch of books before threw us into the books. We're in Sunnydale now." He checked the window to make sure. "Yup, Sunnydale. So how can we be in... which book did you say?"
"The Trial, Franz Kafka's final novel, in which the protagonist Josef K is arrested for a crime he hasn't committed. He's never told what it is he's accused of, he's never given a trial, he just keeps understanding less and less until at the end -"
Anya interrupted him. "So what sort of moron would accuse somebody of doing something and not tell them what it is they're accused of? I know a little something about justice, and that makes no sense at all. It's stupid. What's the point?"
"That's what literary scholars have been debating since the 1920s. And the fact that we're still in Sunnydale is probably a sign that not only is the spell still active, but it's starting to break down the walls of reality... or possibly that The Trial is such a vague and still very relevant work that its setting isn't very important."
Willow shrugged. "So, what's the big? We just find this Joseph guy, give him a happy ending, and problem solved."
Giles sighed. "I'm afraid it's not as easy as that. You see, there is no happy ending in The Trial. That's pretty much the point of it; there is simply no way through it that could conceivably end happily, no choice he could make that would get him off the hook. Everything is stacked against him, everyone who claims to try to help him knows as little as he does, and ultimately it can only end in pointless death."
As if on cue, the little bell above the door jangled as a professionally dressed woman stepped into the store and walked up to them. "So... you're them? Huh. Have to say, you're pretty much what I expected."
"Um... can I help you?" Giles asked.
She smiled, crocodile-like. "It's the other way around, Mr Giles. My name is Lilah Morgan, I'm from the lawfirm of Wolfram & Hart, and I've been hired by the Watcher's Council - who are very disappointed in you, by the way, and want you to know that neither you nor your Slayer have ever or will ever live up to their expectations, no matter what you do - to represent you in this trial that you've gotten yourselves into."
"We haven't -"
"Now, there are three ways I could try to defend you. I could go for an acquittal, which of course only works if you're innocent, so that's out..."
"But we are innocent!" Dawn protested.
"Of what?"
"Of... uh..."
"Would you mind if I conferred with my colleagues, Miss Morgan?" Giles ushered the others over towards the back of the store. "You see what I mean. I dare say we're, uh, screwed."
"Huh," Buffy said and looked at the big table, where the ingredients for Willow's and Tara's amazonian kindlich spell still sat. "Or we could just break the spell once and for all."
"...Or we could just break the spell once and for all," Giles agreed after thinking about it for about four seconds. "There's just one problem."
"I know what you mean," Tara nodded. "It's not done yet. The spell needs to run its course."
Xander didn't agree. "Look, we're about to be executed by the German government -"
"Czechoslovakian government, actually," Giles interjected.
"- Czechoslovakian government. I honestly couldn't care less if the precious little spell has run its course."
"I agree," Buffy said. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Well..." Tara walked over to the bookshelf and pointed at the books. "So far we've gone from classical literature through early modern, and right now we're up to modernism, and the newest book here came out last year... If we break the spell now we'll probably get out of The Trial, but there's a good chance we'll have all the remaining works dumped on us all at once. P-probably not permanently, but until the magic dissipates..."
"ALL of them?" Buffy groaned.
"At least up to post-modernism. We might be safe after that."
Everyone glanced over at Lilah, who was thumbing through a huge stack of what had to be legal papers with a look of gleeful anticipation that sent shivers down their spines. Buffy turned back to the table. "Right. I say we take our chances with the bookshelf. After all, how bad could it possibly be?"
***
The following hours provided an interesting answer to that question. Giles wasn't much help; having decided the situation required a cup of tea, he made the mistake of dipping a madeleine cookie into it and then sat motionless for hours, lost in memories - which was probably for the best, since it meant that only Dawn had to suffer through Jay Gatsby bragging at length about how much more impressive his own library was. Willow, who had been secretly nursing a geeky hope that the boat she suddenly found herself on would be taking her to the Shire, was dismayed to find herself heading up the Congo instead to find Mr Kurtz. Anya lost herself in a long stream-of-consiousness monologue about sex, which would probably have embarrassed Xander if he hadn't been distracted by the icky - and ultimately very gratifying - situation of catching Humbert Humbert making a pass at Dawn and beating the crap out of him. Tara was nearly driven insane by a band of lunatics including an infernal-looking man in a tall hat, a talking cat, and a very naked woman. Meanwhile, Buffy lay in a trench, ducking gunfire and watching for butterflies. And so on and so forth.
Eventually, the magic dissipated and everything started returning to normal. The bookshelf had tipped over, its contents spilled all over the Magic Box floor, and they all lay panting in front of it when the back door opened and Spike walked in.
"Blimey, you people are lazy. It's barely dark outside and you're already asleep? If this is what passes for fighting evil these days, I'm almost embarrassed."
"SHUT UP, SPIKE." The vote was unanimous.
He chuckled softly to himself as he looked around, noticing the pile of books and went over to pick one up. "Oh. Orlando. I remember this one, it's the one where the bloke turns into a wo-"
ZAP.
"Um... Will?" Buffy asked, staring in dismay at Spike. "Was it supposed to do that?"
"That was probably the last of the magic. I hope." Willow winced. "Spike? Are you feeling OK...?"
"Oh, I feel just... smashing," Spike cooed, stretching her long, womanly legs. "And I've a newfound appreciation for the unfair role of women in society, too."
"Um... do you think we should turn him... her... back?" Tara reached for the spellbook on the table.
"Why?" Buffy mused. "I mean, it's not that big a difference, really."
"Also, I don't know about you, but I've had enough books for one day," Giles moaned.
"Yeah," Willow agreed. "Spike? Is it OK if we get back to you tomorrow...?"
"Oh yeah," Spike agreed, feeling her new body. "No hurry at all."
And the twelfth stroke of midnight sounded, and all was well that ended well.