Disclaimers: Joss owns all the BTVS characters, I own the rest. I make no claim to his, and he makes no claim to mine.
Date Stamp: Miss K, aka Kitty wrote this 24.12.01
Title: I thank Marilyn Manson for the title. I don't own it, he does. His songs are fascinating. He's very naughty, I wish he was my dad.
 
 
Faith's POV
 
Slayers Do Christmas XXXIV - Antichrist Superstar
 
'So, you're God, Dis is an Angel and Lucy's the Devil. Don't people have to be dead to be Angels?'
 
I mean, they do right?
Dis is dead?
What?
Nah-uh, she's not dead, she would have told me!
 
'She couldn't tell you, look, Faith, you need to speak to her about all this. I'm sure she can explain it all a lot better than I can. I gloss over too much. Dead, alive, all the same really.'
 
How did she know what I was gonna say?
 
'I can read your mind. It's terribly easy. Oh, I don't mean your mind's easy, I mean minds in general. I'll stop it if you want, put you at ease a bit more.'
 
'Yeah, if you don't mind, sort of like everything being private up there. So, call me crazy, but I don't think you're in SunnyHell, sorry, Sunnydale for a tour of the municipal buildings.'
 
'You'd be right. Oh, you want more, I'm so out of practice having to explain myself. I'm going to leave this one to Dis, again. We'll need Buffy here as well, it sort of concerns her.'
 
I stare at her for a minute.
She doesn't look like God.
Shit, Faith, what does the big G look like?
This is freaky, because I didn't even think he, shit, she existed!
 
'I'll call B, get her over here...'
 
She holds her hand up to stop me.
She's a freaky woman, not sure I like her.
Did she hear that in my mind?
Does this make me an antichrist or something?
Fuck, I'll deal with it when anything God Squad rolls up.
 
'I'll get Buffy.'
 
She snaps her fingers, there's some massive flash of light, then B's standing in front of us.
Woah, man, what a freaky assed talent.
Bet she doesn't have to ride public transport.
Faith, she's God, like she'd need to ride the buses.
 
'What the... ok, have I fallen down and hit my head? Did I sleep walk here? Are you all real? Faith, what's going on?'
 
'B, you better sit down, we've got something to tell you.'
 
'Did my cookies and milk get laced with Rohypnol, because I don't remember...'
 
'B, sit down, please?'
 
She gives me this, "you better explain" look, but sits down next to me anyway.
Explain?
Not sure if I can, 'cause it definitely helps if the person telling the story actually understands it all first.
 

Discord's POV

 
Where is it?
I did bring it... ok, here it is.
Less panicking, Dis
Chill out, and get back upstairs before Elle spooks everyone out!
I drag a suitcase out of the trunk of my car, and get back upstairs.
If Elle's prodding Faith or checking her eyes, I'm going to go mad.
I push the door open... Buffy?
For craps sake, can't I leave the room for five minutes?
 
'No, you can't Dizzy. Now come and tell your girls what's going on, I can't listen to Buffy's thoughts any longer, I'm on over load, she never stops!'
 
Faith suddenly starts laughing and jabs Buffy in the ribs.
 
'Even your babble spaz's God out, I warned you about it. Wait up, does this mean it's worse in your head? Ok, that thought's more frightening than being in a coffee shop, arguing over donuts, while the Devil was outside.'
 
'God? What are you talking about Faith? Have you been on the cocktails again, oh that was me, have you been on something that's made...'
 
I put my case down, and watch as Buffy's pauses, her eyes narrow and she looks at Elle.
 
'Elle?'
 
'Yes Buffy.'
 
'Are you...? Don't worry. Will someone tell me what's going on. There's me, getting ready to have a shower, before Demon Spawn Dawn hogged the bathroom, and then some twister came and sucked me up and dropped me here. Talk about glad I still had my clothes on! Explanation anyone?'
 
Go on Dis, tell them, spill it.
Crap, I really hate doing this.
It always ends up with me waffling on about Heaven and Hell and battles and shit and...
 
'B, Elle's God, Discord's an Angel and that Lucy chick, in the coffee shop, was the Devil. That's a mind fuck, huh?'
 
Or you could let Faith do it.
Buffy's staring at Elle, and I swear, she looks like she wants to poke her with her finger, to check she's real.
Please, Buffy, please, don't start Elle thinking poking's ok.
Took me long enough to get her out of that habit.
 
Faith gets up, smoothes her leathers off and points to the kitchen.
 
'Anyway, Dis, I need to talk to you in the kitchen. Back in a minute, you want anything to drink, either of you? B? Ok, you keep staring at Elle, I'll bring you a diet coke.'
 
Shaking her head, I follow her into the kitchen.
She turns round, looks at me, then punches me, straight in the face!
Talk about smart!
Has she got rings on or something?
 
'That, Dis, is for not telling me you fuckin' died! What am I, a spare wheel? No, I'm your cuz, man, blood! You don't die on family without telling them!'
 
What's she going to do when she hears about Dawn, beat me to death with a tyre iron?
Crap, she's got a powerful swing.
I smile and give her a hug, picking her up off the floor.
Not too tight though, Dis, you crush her, and Elle will make her an Angel, and she'll be able to kick your ass from here to... well, the other side of Heaven.
 
'Dis, let me go, I'm pissed at you! Dis! Alright, I'm not mad at you, put me down, shit, thanks. Don't like my feet swinging about, gives me the freaks.'
 
I ruffle her hair and she punches me in the stomach, not hard, just friendly.
No, I take that back, she broke one of my ribs.
It'll fix itself in ten minutes, don't get all uptight, Dis.
 
'You know, I wanted to tell you about the dying stuff, Faith. I did, but it's not how it works. I have to keep to the rules, you know, with it being Heaven and all.'
 
She leans back against the counter, lights a smoke up and stares at her boots.
Faith can look pretty adorable sometimes.
Guess it helps that I know she's not 100% of the bad ass she makes out she is.
 
'How'd you die? When d'you die? Shit, there are like, a thousand questions going round my head. You're dead?'
 
'Sort of.'
 
'Are you dead or not?'
 
'Both.'
 
'Dis!'
 
'I'm technically dead, but as an Angel I'm sort of alive; sort of. It's a whole heap of complicated, Faith. When did I die? Four years ago. Was working, de-bugging some rich bitch's house, her husband thought I was a burglar and shot me. They covered it up, dumped me in the river. I went to Heaven, Elle gave me the chance to become one of her soldiers, sort of like, um, an Angel of Vengeance. You know, you reap what you sow, don't do bad shit, it comes back on you, that deal. Anyway, I said yes, my first real job, after a couple of years of proving myself, was to come back and toast that rich bitch and her husband. Don't want bad people roaming round killing and maiming. This is what I do. I take out murderers, rapists, politicians. There are only a few of us on the Vengeance section, and there's too much work. Anymore questions?'
 
'I thought Angels were Angels. Wait, I mean, I didn't know you could become an Angel. Thought you just were one, and that was it. Like, either you were around when the big G made everything and you got your wings, or you weren't, and you didn't. The journey from my mind to my mouth's kind of going via the garbage bin at the moment. This isn't making much sense.'
 
'No, I know what you mean. There are loads of different types of Angels. You've got your real ones, like you said, the ones who were made when Elle sorted everything else out. Then you've got people like me, who work their way up. You know, start making coffee and doing the photocopying, and after a few years get promoted. I got my wings, here I am now.'
 
'You're really dead?'
 
She's still staring at her boots and I want to say; sorry, I meant to tell you, I'm still here for you.
But it all seems so fucking empty.
I know she's upset, can sense it.
And I know what she's going to do next; walk out.
 
She pushes off the counter, walks past me and I hear the front door slam.
 
And I can't even call on divine inspiration to help me, because I am divine inspiration, and I don't know what to do.