Summary: Just a daft plot bunny that bit me and wouldn't let go. I'll apologise in advance.
God sat, chin resting on her hand and sharp elbow digging uncomfortably into her thigh, disconsolately tossing pebbles one after the next into the Pool of Determination at her feet. The air above it, indeed the air all around her, still resonated from the surging outflow of power she had released when the final result of her children's machinations had become clear. Those same children were now in full retreat, concealing themselves from her rightful wrath, leaving her, yet again, to pick up the pieces.
What she still couldn't understand, after all these years of planning and manipulating, was how they'd managed to screw up so impressively.
She sighed, tossed another stone and swapped hands to ease the circulation in her leg.
Six years ago they'd come to her. "Now," they'd said. "Now, mother, progenitor, creator. The time is right. The conditions have been met. Now, is the moment."
And, having examined the situation for flaws, she had determined that her children's words accurately described conditions. The humans in that dimension were not adjusting; that much was painfully clear. They were well on their way to mutual oblivion and planetary destruction, and though it may take another millennium or so for them to reach it, now was as good a time as any to proceed.
So she'd handed over the reins and left them to it. After all nothing could really go wrong, could it? It was a simple matter - just a battle between good and evil played out on one of the ephemeral canvases that some called worlds. She'd kept a close eye on them in the beginning, from a distance - not wanting her children to think she didn't trust them - and everything had been going so well.
The Slayer's line was split allowing her First born to rise and build an army. And as the years passed by, the current encumberants were slowly isolated from everything human until all they desired was peace from their burden.
The Mother and Father were created and in turn had come together to allow her other child to enter the world.
Finally, the Champion's resolve was tested at every turn, creating the ideal mental state for his final submission. He was being brought to that fine point of balance where his decision would determine the final result of the battle; a decision he would reach under the influence of her children.
In a couple of years that dimension would either be another hell, to be pressed into the service of her First born, or complete, trapped like a bug in amber, frozen into a simulacrum of life and peace. Whichever was not her concern. The important thing was that it would no longer *be* her concern, because frankly she had grown bored with it. It consumed too much of her time, like the world of perpetual Sundays that, when one of it's denizens came up with the concept of a work ethic had prevented all but the most perfunctory glimpses of her children's games in recent years.
And what had she returned to? Chaos, that was what. Absolute, unrestrained chaos. Slayers multiplying out of control, both her children defeated. And why? Because her First born thought one humanoid looked good with his shirt off!
God growled in disgust. Honestly. Children.
Their debriefing had proved enlightening to say the least. Jasmine, as her daughter had been named, had planned well. She was little, if at all to blame for what went wrong in the end. By all her calculations Angel - THE vampire with a soul - should have been her Champion. She was to give him the amulet and he would have stood beside the Slayer, Faith, in the Final Battle, above ground. Then, and only then, would the amulet have tapped into the creature's soul and destroyed demon-kind forever in that dimension. Having burnt the beast from his body, Angel would have been reborn, truly a creature of light and raised his mate, Jasmine's birth mother, from her slumber. Then as the Holy Triumvirate, Father, Mother and Son, they would have led that world into eternal peace and prosperity.
But things had started to go wrong, so fast and so, so badly.
Instead of returning to LA when her sister slayer rejected her for previous misdeeds to become one with Jasmine's love and take down the traitor, Faith had been forgiven and stayed in Sunnydale. Forgiven! And why? Because something had slipped under her daughter's radar.
And that same something had decimated the plans of her First born. Instead of falling into despair and following the trail of breadcrumbs into failure that her child had so carefully placed along the route, the other Slayer had rejected her Champion and selected another.
How had he managed to escape their notice? Five years ago he'd been the Slayer's enemy. Even one year ago he had shown little sign of moving beyond his baser nature. Then he upped and got himself a soul! A demon getting a soul! Talk about coming out of left field. Unthinkable.
Her children had requested advice at that point and God had gladly obliged, after all such an ideal opportunity may never arise again.
"Deflect him," she'd said. "Between you, you have love and loneliness as your weapons. Hit his most vulnerable parts. Deflect him, break him, neutralise him." Then she'd returned to sorting out work ethics and Sundays. Big mistake.
Sure, her First born had spent the best part of six months playing with the creature, priming him to abandon the Slayer at the last but had still failed to remove him from the game.
God snarled in frustration. Could she blame her children? Yes, she could. And would.
The boy should have been used to raise the first Turok-han. His blood would have been adequate for the task, and the damaged vampire would have been driven away and eventually destroyed when either peace or terror stalked the surface world.
The true Champion should have had his day. Either standing at Jasmine's side as the Protector, bringing peace on earth or being killed by the Destroyer rendering the amulet useless and unleashing hell for all eternity.
But no, her First born preferred the other one with his shirt off!
Thus the Slayer had learned forgiveness and love for those who had wronged her. She had allowed her sister back into her heart.
Thus the vampire had learned to believe in himself and had shared his gift with the Slayer. In turn, she had shared it with others and broken the chains that bound her.
Thus the true Champion, they had spent so long preparing, never had his day.
All those years of planning destroyed by a moment's distraction.
The last stone left her hand at high velocity and skimmed across the surface of the pool, rebounding from the far edge and returning to rest by her foot.
God released a tired sigh. Maybe it was trying to tell her something. That this wasn't over.
With suddenly renewed resolve she reached out and grabbed up the red telephone that resided next to her right hand.
Too right this wasn't over. The sneaky bleached punk had caused this mess so it was up to him to sort it out, however long it took and there was only one person who could make that happen. Someone with more power than she could ever hope to wield.
She pressed the hotline button and waited for the call to connect, all the time running through what she would say.
At last the call was picked up and God asked, "Have you seen the mess?"
"Uhuh."
"Something has to be done. I don't care how you do it, just bring him back and make him fix it."
"Could be a problem."
"I said I don't care. You owe me one, remember."
There was silence from the other end of the line and then a small sound of resignation and acquiescence.
God sighed in relief. She hadn't wanted to cash in the debt, but honestly things couldn't be left the way they were.
About to hang up, a sudden panic gripped her. "Hang on!" She snapped into the receiver. "One more thing before you go. For goodness sake, Joss, whatever you do, don't let him take off his shirt."
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