fandomtownies | Friday Night on the Beach

After leaving Tara and Shane, Beka went hunting. She hadn't seen Crowley, or felt him. But he wasn't interested in her. She'd been corrupted. Nothing to mess with.

No, instead the bastard tormented innocents like Tara. Victims.

She'd find him. She'd find him and then she'd... What exactly? It wasn't like she could stop him.

Not a problem for now. Now she just had to find him.

It didn't take long. When he wasn't in the park, something led her to the beach. Either the feel of him, or the memory of him sitting, looking at the water.

"Crowley," she said as she stepped onto the sand.

What do you want, pet? To come be a thankless brat like all the rest? To get some thrill from the demon, and leave to make the choice of the damned? Or did you need a cigarette that badly?

Beka was taken aback by his manner. It lacked all of the subtlety and slickness of their last meeting. If anything, she'd say he sounded...distressed.

"What's wrong with you, Crowley? Someone kill your ducks? I'm here because you're messing with Tara and I want you to stop."

[He snorts] Snookums hasn't hurt but one duck, Beka. [He pulls out two cigarettes and lights one, holding the other for her.]

The Witch needs to mind her own business. I'm not...messing...with her. She needs to stop seeing what she ought not see. It makes humans lose their minds the first time. She's seen my angel and I twice now.

Not entirely sure why other than that there really wasn't anything she could do to him, Beka took the cigarette and settled herself nearby on the sand.

"The Witch, as you call her, is my friend. You've hurt her. Whether intentionally or not. She's...different than the rest of us. You know that. I know you do. If she's not strong enough to see, then don't show her. Please?"

Then she leaned forward, cigarette to her mouth, and asked, "Light?"

[He snaps the lighter open and puts it to the end of her cigarette] We don't show her Beka. She keeps walking in on us. It's none of her business and she simply seems to have impeccable timing. Both times we thought we were being perfectly discrete. We are gentlemen, poppet, not some sinful, lecherous, clandestine lovers. And besides, Tara is the one who encouraged us...

I imagine from now on we'll have to hide ourselves away like it's something shameful we do. Just to protect poor little miss can't stay away. [He drags deep]

Beka inhaled, looking at him thoughtfully in the infernal glow of the ember. Twice already tonight, he'd called her by name. Why? "Thank you, Crowley." She acknloweded the light with a nod, then pulled back to blow the smoke away from them both.

"I'll admit that walking in on people while they're having sex - or whatever you and Mr. Phale do that passes for the same - is unfortunate timing. It might even be considered rude. But isn't punishing her for it a bit extreme? Why not just lock the doors?" Beka shrugged, but her tone was not unsympathetic when she said, "I'm sure she doesn't mean for you to hide away."

I'm not punishing her, pet. [He turns and looks at her, except those damn glasses hide so much] I got angry...very angry...but I left. I walked out. That's what Dr. Phil says is acceptible, right? Now I just have to go back and explain to the angel how it is that I reacted so harshly. I think...

[his lips press together, pucker, and move from side to side...as if he's contemplating telling something private]

I think no one here understands my job and it's becoming more and more difficult to do it in the way I am accustomed. For centuries I sat back and took the credit for your inventive cruelties. Here, I actually have to work at temptation and corruption. Work at it, can you imagine? And those I don't have to work for are already so far gone they are comfortable to me, Beka. Now, no one appreciates the opportunity to be tempted to prove their good. They seem to seek me out to be tempted so they can say "ooh, Crowley did it" People's lack of responsibility makes me retch. Time was you took on the blame of the entire community. Did you know that, poppet?

And yet again with the name, and now he'd told her something that sounded very personal. Like Angelus, he played games, but this didn't feel like a game. It felt like...pain.

She took a long drag off her cigarette, then blew out a plume of smoke. "I think you should tell Mr. Phale. If he's an angel, then maybe he can help Tara? Maybe he can undo what you did when you were angry. That would make it better, wouldn't it?"

What she needed, she reflected, as she took another hit, really, wasn't a cigarette. Not for demon-confessional. "I wish I had a flash to offer you a drink, Crowley. It sounds like you need it." It'd worked with Bel. And while she was at it, what was it with demons baring their...whatever...to her anyhow? "I've heard of the concept of scapegoating, if that's what you mean. It's always easier to blame someone else." She knew that was inadequate. "I'm...sorry?"

[His shoulders begin to shake, and he drops his head to his chest. His entire begins to shake and there follows a terrible rasping hiss. He's laughing. He's laughing harder than he's laughed in a long while. When he finally calms down--]

You don't need to be sorry for anything. I'm not confessing to you, pet, despite what the others do with you. I'm simply trying to explain to you...I didn't do anything to the Witch. Not like before, and even that was an accident.

[He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a flask. He opens it and pours some into his open mouth, his lips not touching it at all. Offering it to her--]

Tara has many things wrong with her dearest. I am the least of her problems. She's been insane, dead, and a dy--lesbian. Her past is a lovely and intricate web of pain and horror. I don't need to do anything to her, precious. She's as broken as can be.

Wondering why he didn't drink direct from the flask, she took it from him. She drank carefully, unconcerned about the contents - he wouldn't poison her, of that she felt certain, because it would be uncivil - but wary of the flask itself.

"Tara's good. She tried to choose good. She didn't blame you. Even defended you to...another. Shouldn't that be enough?" Beka said after awhile. "I don't understand what you do very well, but I'd think someone more ... not good, or more morally ambiguous, would be more interesting for you."

But dearest Beka, those who are closer to Grace have farther to fall...they are more prized. Those who could go either way litter the pits of hell, and most are there from a lifetime of wrong choices. To bring down the Graceful, that's an accomplisment. It's why Lucifer is the Morning Star. Prat that he is, he was very convincing at the time. The great Temptor.

And Tara isn't good, poppet. Don't be fooled into thinking that. Tara is innocent, Tara is naive...but she isn't good. She's no more good than you, not really.

Beka nodded. "Innocent. Better word. Still. I hate to see her hurt more."

She took a quick hit off the cigarette, then plowed ahead. "I 'litter the pits of hell'. Not a flattering image. Apt, but not flattering. Yet, you seem to like me. Why?"

Because, sweet girl, although your kind litter Hell, it is you who has the real chance. If I were to tempt you, and you resisted, then you move closer to Heaven. The farther i can push you toward Heaven, then when I do ultimately corrupt you, your fall is that much sweeter. However, if I fail, you go where I never can, and there is a satisfaction there too, albeit less. Do you understand?

"Not entirely. No. I can't honestly think what you could tempt me with. Not here in Fandom, anyhow."

~~I am not sweet!~~

No?

[He turns and looks at her over the tops of his glasses. He looks into her eyes. Slowly, he lights another cigarette, and offers her the case. His gaze pierces through her, even in the dark.]

Your soul tells me you love wisely and well. I could tempt you...with Belthazor. Your best friend, isn't he? You love him more than most anything. I think I shall use him...yesss.

[He waves his hand in the air, which could be an incantation, or simply a spastic fit...it's unclear.]

Buffy had called Phoebe not long before, asking if she'd seen Beka recently. Neither of them had, and since it was getting late, Belthazor went out to take a look for her himself. Once he was out in the town he could sense a demon on the beach, one he wasn't familiar with. And where there was a demon, of course there had to be Beka. So he shimmered to the beach.

Beka looked from Crowley to Bel, or the image of Bel.

"Nice trick," she said, a little shakily. She took another drink from the flask, let the liquor burn in her throat and steady her. "Nice trick, nice offer. No."

[if his eyes would have been visible, she would have seen them widen in surprise. The rest of his face didn't change though, and what lies behind the Foster Grants...

Quick thinking was part of the job description, and the torment, either way, was intoxicating.]

You...don't love him then? He's nothing at all to you but a toy? A plaything? You feel nothing for Belthazor?

[if his eyes would have been visible, she would have seen them widen in surprise. The rest of his face didn't change though, and what lies behind the Foster Grants...

Quick thinking was part of the job description, and the torment, either way, was intoxicating.]

You...don't love him then? He's nothing at all to you but a toy? A plaything? You feel nothing for Belthazor?

Beka shook her head. "I didn't say that."

The image of Bel hung back, almost as if it waited for her answer.

"Of course I love Bel. He's...the only person who knows everything." Her voice might've quavered a bit when she spoke, but then she lifted her chin and looked where Crowley's eyes ought to have been, were it weren't for the glasses. "He's not mine. Phoebe is like a sister, and they are soulmates. You'll have to find something else to tempt me with. This, I can resist."

"I didn't say that." (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fandomtownies/295045.html?thread=11804037#t11804037)

But you can't ressit him, pet. I know. It's not the lust. Nor the wrath, and you don't even covet him. You simply...need him. He makes everything better. Easier.

[His tone softens and has a faint buzz to it, almost like honeybees swarming on a full comb] It's good to not go through this world alone. I know this, dearest, I understand. Everyone needs a friend...but we still call it love, this feeling you have. Isn't that right, Beka?

Her stomach felt warm, like the liquour had gone straight to it. Crowley's words washed over her, coating her thoughts, encouraging her. It seemed the easiest thing in the world to nod, to say: "Yes. Of course I need him. I can't imagine what I'd do without him."

Belthazor had watched the exchange between Beka and the demon for a few moments, confused. Finally, he spoke: "Beka, what the hell is going on here?"

Beka's head cleared abruptly. The image of Bel wasn't an image. It was Bel.

Ah hell.

She shot Crowley an irritated glance, while trying to formulate her thoughts. "Bel? What are you doing here?"

"Buffy called Phoebe looking for you," Belthazor said. "Since it was late and you weren't home I came out looking for you. Mind introducing me to your friend and telling me what's going on here?"

"I knew letting Buffy fall for me was a bad idea," she grumbled under her breath. "Come and sit. This will take awhile."

She pulled her own cigarettes out of her jacket pocket, took one for herself and offered them to the men. While she did, she introduced them. "Bel, this is Crowley, the original serpent from the Garden of Eden, according to Angelus, and so far Crowley hasn't denied it." She nodded to Crowley.

"And this is Belthazor, which I assume you know, since you took credit for conjuring him." Her tone is more dry than bitter, but she's not exactly happy.

"Garden of Eden, huh?" Belthazor said. "That'd be impressive if it's true." He took one of the cigarettes and conjured a fireball to light it. "So why am I the hot topic of conversation?" he asked.

Don't doubt me, boy. I have no reason to deny my accomplishments. Of course, I won't relinquish the ones I was blamed for but didn't do...that would be tacky.

[He lights his own since it's clearly become a smoke-on-the-beach party.]

And we're talking about you because she dared me to. She wanted a temptation, and you were the first thing on her mind, so I chose you out of her pretty little head.

Beka sighed and drew her lighter from her pocket, since it probably wouldn't be a good idea to ask Bel just now. After she lit the cigarette, took a long drag, and wished she was dead, she glared at Crowley.

"First, I didn't dare you. I just said I didn't know what you'd find to tempt me with. Second, Bel was on my mind because Ethics was rough today, and we'd been talking. I worry about him, so, of course he was on my mind."

She turned to Bel. "Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong."

He took a long drag off his cigarette and slowly let out the smoke. "So, I didn't just hear you say 'of course I love Bel. He's the only person who knows everything'?"

Of course you would hear that.

"No. You did hear that." She sucked in a lungful of smoke. Held it 'til it burned, then tipped her head up and blew it out in a long slow stream. "You missed the rest of it. Where Crowley said the words 'best friend' and before that when I said you and Phoebe were soulmates."

Weary now, she sought his gaze. "I do love you. But not like Phoebe does. You're..." She shrugged one shoulder, a wry, self-mocking grin appearing on her face. "The only person who knows everything."

"I caught that, too," he murmured. Louder, he went on, "So why are you chatting with a demon in the middle of the night about temptation?"

It's tempting to talk to me. [He stares out at the ocean and blows smoke in the cold breeze.]

"And do you try to tempt everyone?" Belthazor asked.

Do you feel left out, boy? [He smiles softly] I tempt who I feel like, when I feel like. My dear Beka and I have chatted before and I was a perfect gentleman. Tonight, I felt like it. She's never in any danger...although you may be one of these days. One day she'll kiss me and come straight for you. [he looks at Beka over the tops of his glasses again.] Although she'll probably find Angelus the path of least resistance.

"Whoa. Stop it, boys. I've been caught between demons already once this past week, and I've got no interest in being there again."

She pointed her cigarette Bel's direction. "You, don't. I don't need your protection here. I appreciate it," she said softly, "but I don't need it. I came after Crowley on another matter to do with a friend. We were talking, hypothetically. He just demonstrated what he could do. I walked right into it."

Then she took a quick hit off her cigarette and rounded on Crowley. "And, you. I'm not planning on kissing you. But if I did, and it inspired lust, damned straight I'd go to Angelus." She winced, then shook her head. "He'd probably think it was fun."

Fun...that would be the least apropos adjective, but it will do for now.

Beka arched an eyebrow at him. "Under different circumstances, I might ask what you meant by that. Right now? I honestly don't care," she said without heat.

"I just want this over with."

Still not completely understanding what was going on, Belthazor said in a low voice, "I'm inclined to agree."

And you're surprised that I love you? "Let me say goodnight to Crowley, then we should go, before we get busted for being out after curfew."

"All right," Belthazor said, keeping a wary eye on Crowley.

"Maybe coffee next time, Crowley? It'd be much more civilized." She smiled, not unpleasantly. After all, he'd done her a favor in a way. Bel knew now that he mattered and she couldn't take it back.

I would love to my dear. And may I extend my invitation to you to come visit me at the hotel. I could give you a night of luxury for you and a guest. My pleasure.

Goodnight my sweet. Please see that Tara is well. And perhaps take her to Mr. Phale. That might be a good idea. I shall make myself scarce.

Goodnight, Belthazor. You have impeccable timing. I hope your Phoebe enjoys you as much as others do. Pity what you will do to her.

[He rises and walks down the beach to the hotel, smoke trailing behind him.]

Bel tensed, growling curses under his breath. He'd taken a few steps toward Crowley before Beka caught up with him and blocked his path.

"Bel, don't. You saw what he did to me. He's trying to piss you off. It's what he does. Let it go."

Belthazor glared at Crowley as he walked away. He'd find out what the hell the demon meant by that later. For now, he and Beka should get back to the dorms before the police tried to pick them up for breaking curfew.

"For now," he agreed, holding out his hand to Beka. When she took it, he shimmered them back to the dorms.

Friday Night on the Beach

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