Author's Note- This is in response to a writing group that I'm a member of--The Guild of the Fantastic Quill--Friday the 13th Challenge. The prompt words used were "Frigg" and "witch." And my luck subject is obvious.
Disclaimer- I don't own Angel. It all belongs to Joss.
“Make it go away!” Cordelia Chase shouted, her short brown hair bobbing with her movement.
She dove behind the reception desk of the hotel as another chair came flying in her direction. Meanwhile, Winifred Burkle—her own brown hair braided back—was busy hiding behind a large, square column, with her was infant Connor in his basinet.
Another roar and the large, Viking-looking woman standing in the middle of the hotel lobby hurled another chair, this time at Fred. The blonde-haired, rather large Norse woman’s roars were matched only by Connor’s wailing.
“Ssh, ssh, it’s okay…” Fred said, rocking the basinet as much as she dared. To Cordy, she shouted, “I don’t know how to make her go away! I’m not a witch!”
Another roar. This one was followed by the shattering of a glass ornament somewhere behind Cordy. With a growl, Cordy answered back.
“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you attempted this spell in the first place
Fred dared peek around the column. Her eyesight came to rest on the large, blue amulet that the Viking woman appeared to be guarding, lying on the floor. The same amulet that Fred had used to summon her. The woman was roaring and raging nonstop, waving a battle-axe over her head.
“Mere mortals!” she boomed. “How dare mere mortals summon me!”
“But you’re the goddess of childbirth, Frigg,” Fred tried to reason with the Norse goddess. “We just wanted you to bless Connor today!”
Frigg gave another roar that sounded closer to a screech and hurled a glass ornament at Fred, who squealed and ducked back behind the column. Cordy sighed.
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” she said.
“Because you thought it was a good idea too!” Fred called back in between trying to get Connor to be calm.
Today was Friday the thirteenth. Fred had aptly noticed this and had mentioned as much to Cordy—away from Angel and the rest. Fred had convinced her that, once Angel and the rest of the guys left to complete their latest job, that she could cast a spell, calling on Frigg to bless Connor. With all of Angel’s enemies out for the poor boy, he couldn’t afford such an unlucky day as Friday the thirteenth.
As it turns out, goddesses don’t like to be summoned by mortals…for any reason.
“Aaaahh!” Cordy screeched in annoyance. “Make her stop roaring!”
“Maybe if we get to the amulet and break it, it’ll send her back!” Fred called back.
Cordy, from her placed ducked down behind the desk, nodded once. She was going in. She dove out from the desk, keeping herself hunched over, and ran behind the circular red chairs. There, she stopped and waited for an opening. However, Frigg had seen her and presented her with none.
“What are you doing?” Fred called, able to actually see Cordy now.
“We need that damned amulet before Angel gets back! He’ll be pissed!”
Fred nodded. She peeked around her column again, and, seeing that Frigg was busy hurling various items at Cordy, ducked around towards the blue amulet. However, her sneakers squeaked on the floor, calling the Viking goddess’s attention to her. With a cry of “aiee,” Fred ducked back behind the column just in time to not be hit by Frigg’s latest hurled object.
Connor was crying so hard from the racket that he was turning red. Fred sighed.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
No sooner had the words left her mouth, the doors to the hotel opened, and Angel—followed by Lorne, Gunn, and Wesley—entered.
“What the hell is going on?” Angel demanded as soon as he had taken in the scene.
Frigg turned her attention to Angel, lobbing a chair at him. Cordy’s eyes widened.
“Now!” she shouted.
Fred lost no time. She dove, landing right on top of the amulet. Hurling it as hard as she could, the blue stone landed against the reception desk, shattering to dust. Frigg faded into her own dimension with an angry cry of defeat.
Angel and the group at the top of the stairs—all of whom had ducked out of the chair’s way—now descended, looking around at the debris left by the goddess. They only stopped when they had reached Fred, who was still lying on the floor. Cordy, for her part, made her way over to Connor to pick him up. He stopped crying almost instantly.
“I repeat,” Angel began, “what the hell is going on?”
Fred and Cordy exchanged a look. Then, Cordy shrugged, giving Angel a not-so-innocent smile.
“Well, you know. It’s us on Friday the thirteenth. Isn’t that explanation enough?”
Angel looked at the two girls. Then, with a shrug of his own, he nodded. Fred sighed and rested her head on the floor, a small laugh escaping her lips.
“What luck,” she muttered.