Chapter 3
The Master
Day three in Lima, Ohio, and Buffy has already been sent to see a therapist. Okay, so Ms. Pillsbury wasn't a therapist, but she was close enough, with her concerned doe eyes and wall of pamphlets. Buffy squirmed nervously in the polyester chair opposite the guidance counselor.
"Buffy, I know how hard it can be to transfer to a new school, not to mention a whole new town, but given time, you can learn to adapt," said Ms. Pillsbury, who blinked nervously when Buffy didn't reply, "How are you finding Lima?"
"It's... okay."
"Have you made any friends?"
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. Can I ask why I'm here?"
Ms. Pillsbury pursed her thin, pink lips and turned the pages of a paper folder with a miniature pair of tongs. Buffy eyed the strangely familiar hunk of paperwork. Is that... Is that my permanant record? she thought, panicked.
"We just feel concerned that you're having trouble adapting at McKinley."
"I'm not! No trouble. No trouble at all."
"Because you seem to have quite a reputation at your school in Los Angeles."
"Well, I may have gotten in trouble once or twice-"
"You burned down the gym."
"I know. But nothing like that will happen here! I promise."
Ms. Pillsbury laid her huge eyes right on Buffy, keeping her lips closed tight and serious. "You attacked Quinn Fabray last night."
Buffy could feel the color draining from her face. Great, she thought, Just great.
"That was a misunderstanding-"
"Quinn's not pressing charges, thankfully. She's not angry, Buffy, she's concerned."
"I'll bet she is," Buffy muttered.
"She came to me to suggest you and I have scheduled sessions. She's worried about your well-being Buffy, and so am I."
Buffy gritted her teeth. What did Quinn Fabray have against her, anyways? Sure, she pinned her to a wall yesterday, but that had been an honest mistake. It felt like Quinn was trying to maintain Buffy's rep as an abysmal one since they met.
"So, Buffy, I'd like you and I to have a chat, every day, during free period."
Buffy sat up straight, mouth opening in protest, but she couldn't seem to think of a solid argument for why she shouldn't have to see the school guidance counselor on a regular basis.
"But... I have... glee club."
Ms. Pillsbury looked surprised. "Glee club? Well... I'm sure we can work around that," she said, when she suddenly looked up to her doorway, eyes lighting up, "Will!"
Buffy turned around to see Mr. Schuester poking his head in the doorway, grinning dorkily.
"I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Oh, no! Not at all!"
Buffy dropped her head to the side and gave Ms. Pillsbury an 'are you serious?' look, but she didn't even notice. All eyes were on 'Will'.
"Good. Can I steal Buffy from you?" he said with his crooked smile, tweaking the counselor's heart like he knew he could.
"Of course!" she said, her eyes wider than they usually were, if that were possible, "You probably have some glee club business to attend to."
"Glee...?"
"Because I joined glee club. Remember?" asked Buffy, widening her eyes knowingly.
"Of course," said Mr. Schuester, nodding, "Yeah, Buffy. Our little performer."
"Okay, well, I'll talk to you another time, Buffy, and we'll work out a schedule," said Ms. Pillsbury as Buffy stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
"Great," she replied through gritted teeth, following Mr. Schuester out of the room.
xxx
Rachel smacked the front page of The Daily Lima down on the choir room's grand piano.
"What's this?" asked Buffy.
Rachel rested her hand on the waist of her pink and gray argyle sweater, as if Buffy should already know. "Four people turned up dead last night," she said, looking grave, "...They were drained of blood."
Everyone looked at each other. Classes hadn't started yet, and Mr. Schuester, Buffy, Rachel, Kurt and Mercedes were alone in the choir room. Is this some sort of meeting? wondered Buffy.
"Now that we know what's really out there, I say we tell the state authorities. They need to know," said Rachel with a tone of finality, hands on her small hips.
"No. They wouldn't be able to handle it even if they did know," said Buffy.
"But you handled it," said Mercedes, leaning against the piano, "You saved my life. Don't you think the police can handle it if you can?"
Buffy sighed and stared at the ground. They would never understand.
"Buffy's a slayer. The chosen one. Don't tell anybody," said Mr. Schuester.
Okay, maybe now they understand.
"Will!" Buffy exclaimed, hitting her teacher on the arm.
"Slayer...?" Rachel repeated, confused.
"The chosen one?" asked Mercedes.
"Will?" said Kurt, raising a finely plucked eyebrow.
"Yeah, a slayer," said Buffy, "I kill vampires. I'm kind of... superhuman."
"That explains a lot," says Kurt.
"That's... amazing," said Rachel, clearly in awe.
"It sucks, actually, but it's what I have to do. So I'm going to find Jacob. On my own."
"But we can help-" said Rachel.
"No, you can't! I'm forbidding it."
Rachel's jaw dropped, scandalized. "You can't tell me what to do!"
"I just did!"
"Girls, girls..." said Mr. Schuester, raising his hands half-heartedly.
"Do you know where to start looking?" Mercedes asked.
Buffy bit her bottom lip. She didn't, and it showed. Rachel smiled smugly.
"Well, they're probably in the sewers," said Buffy.
"The sewers?" asked Kurt.
"Yeah. Vamps, they like to stay in dark places. Nothing fancy. Crypts and stuff. So to avoid the sun, and other people, they tend to travel through the sewers."
"Then that's where we should go," Rachel said, obviously bent on taking the lead.
"Don't you get it? There is no 'we'! I'm the slayer, you're not," said Buffy.
Rachel's mouth turned down in a glaring frown. She was struck with the feeling of inadequacy. It was new to her and she didn't like it.
"I'm not too eager to be facing sewer monsters, but I still want to help," said Mercedes, peering at Buffy with her glittery brown eyes, "I need to."
"Mercedes is right," Kurt chimed in, "We have to help. If you hadn't shown up yesterday..."
He trailed off, looking a little green.
"Well, you can help me," said Mr. Schuester, "If Buffy needs to get into the sewers to save Jacob, than we'll need blueprints of the underground tunnel system, to find an entrance."
"How do we get those?" asked Rachel.
"Well, we could call up the city council-"
"We so don't have time," said Buffy.
"Guys, I think I know a way," said Mercedes.
xxx
Crouched in a corner of a mausoleum with her back against the wall, Santana watched a cockroach crawl in circles on the filthy concrete floor. Her full attention wasn't on the bug - her mind was elsewhere, circling the details of last night over and over again. There was that final moment. She couldn't remember completely, but she could almost recollect how it felt to one minute be close to death and the next to be at your peak of clarity. She only had one thing on her mind: pleasure. Nothing else mattered and there were no consequences. Blood, sex, adrenaline. It was all she wanted, all she needed, and there was no other emotion or worry or responsibility in her way.
The first thing she saw in that moment - that moment when she became a goddess - was Brittany. That Aphrodite who was always so close but so far away. Before, Santana was held back by the pressures of society. What would my parents think? What would people say about me? Would she even want me? But none of that mattered now. Santana wasn't apart of any society; she didn't need to be. She belonged to the night, and the night bore all possibilities. And if Brittany didn't want her? Then screw her. Santana could have any one she wanted. And in those first few minutes she didn't know whether to kiss Brittany or to kill her. The fiery burn in her throat made her decision much easier. She sank her teeth into Brittany's buttery skin and drank. And boy was her blood refreshing. In it was some sort of intoxicating spark of electricity - That's so Brit, Santana had thought, and when the girl's eyes rolled back and she became limp, a voice in the back of Santana's mind told her, That's enough. You'll want her for later.
And with the arrogant demeanor Lopez women just naturally had, Santana went to her mother's mini bar and made herself an Orange Blossom martini before she left the house in a sexy low cut leather dress and wreaked havoc on Lima. Santana was subtle, though. A Lopez was never sloppy. She'd snatch away a boy or a girl around the corner of a dive bar, soaking up not only their invigorating blood but their alcohol, too.
It wasn't until she was behind a crypt, sucking the life out of that little Jewish dweeb from celibacy club, when she felt it. Something, filling her heart and making it whole, and suddenly, everything came back to her. She didn't feel like a goddess - not anymore, or like she belonged to the night. She felt like she belonged to no one and this whole night had been a mistake, every drop of blood she drank, every life she took, Oh God, what have I done? she started to think. She felt her sharp fangs and her cold skin and her heart that no longer beat. She was still a vampire. So why, all of a sudden, did she feel so human? So wrong and guilty and scared. "Make it stop," Santana whispered, still clutching on to the boy. She looked down at him and he didn't reply. He was pale - drained. Santana dropped him like hot coal and ran, just short of the exit gates, until she remembered she couldn't go home.
Brittany, she thought, guilty and terrified. She couldn't go back. Not after what she did to her best friend. The sun was starting to rise, and the no-consequences-Santana was gone with the night. Now she had to deal with the aftermath. And how did she deal? She crouched in a dirty crypt behind a stone grave and let her thoughts consume her. What else could she do? Right now, she couldn't really care about herself. You deserve this, she thought, staring at the dust and dirt under her feet, when she heard a footstep. Jumping up with her lightning fast reflexes and bearing her teeth, she twirled around to see ... Mr. Ryerson?
"Whoa, Nelly. Down girl," he said, grinning in amusement, showing off one pearly white incisor.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? This is my territory, Senorita."
"Oh. Sorry..."
"So Shaquille told me he sired a pretty young thing, but never would I have thought, Santana Lopez. Bane of my existence. If you weren't stripping the spirit from my glee club, you were stripping the clothes from my theater kids."
"I should go-"
"Oh no, please stay. We saw how you left that nasally kid for dead last night."
Santana looked at her feet, a ball building in her throat. She did, didn't she? She drained Jacob of his blood and left him to die. She couldn't imagine how scared he must've been. And yet she could. She felt it. His fear had been like crack to her, until it wasn't. Until everything she did made her sick.
"Don't worry. We took care of him. Your sire got dusted by that blond tramp, so our coven's down one, and the Master needs as much help as possible."
"No, thanks."
"No thanks?" Mr. Ryerson started to laugh, his diamond studded glasses falling down the bridge of his nose, "No one says no thanks to the Master."
"Well, I'm saying no thanks," snapped Santana, "Just leave me alone."
Mr. Ryerson's expression quickly turned unpleasant and unamused. "Tonight is the night of the Harvest and our Master will walk once more. Stand rogue and see how far you get under the rule of the Master and the pending doom that is the opening of the Hellmouth."
"Whatever," Santana sighed, taking about as much notice of him as she did of the old ladies who would show up on her doorstep demanding her to find Jesus.
Mr. Ryerson frowned sourly. "You don't wish to serve the Master, you don't belong in here," he said, and with pure force shoved her out of the crypt.
She hissed as she felt the sun fall on her skin, and she threw her body at the door, but Mr. Ryerson was already locking it. Santana fled around the corner, in the shade behind the mausoleum. She sank to the ground and held her head in her hands. She though that cold, dusty crypt was what she deserved. Turns out, she doesn't deserve even that.
She knelt down and sat on her legs, only to suddenly be shocked by a burning feeling on the back of her calf. She whipped off one of the knee high black boots she'd stolen from her mother's closet and out fell a necklace. Santana leaned down and looked closer at the chain. It had a cross on it - real silver. Santana sighed, annoyed, as she spied the cross shaped burn mark on the back of her leg. Her parents were devout Christians - it was just like her mom to keep a cross in one of her shoes. Santana picked it up by it's chain and held it at arm's length. She hadn't even begun to consider the impending doom that was Hell, if ever she were to die. That's what I deserve, she thought to herself, staring at the cross as it dangled mockingly on it's chain, side to side as the breeze blew by.
xxx
Buffy didn't know how she didn't see it before, but Rachel Berry was kind of... terrifying. Not that Rachel hadn't proven to be friendly and helpful if not controlling and abrasive, but on stage, Finn's looks of terror were all too understandable. Rachel sauntered and shimmied closer and closer to the poor oafish boy as they sang You're The One That I Want. It looked less like flirting and more like Rachel was closing in on her prey.
Buffy could just imagine whipping out her stake if she ever bumped into Rachel in a graveyard one night. Speaking of my stake, thought Buffy. She'd gone back home last night and searched everywhere for Mr. Pointy. Sure, she had a few extras lying in the secret compartment of the chest at the end of her bed, but she couldn't find her stake, the one she had from the get go, that her first watcher gave her back in L.A. That stake was kind of a security blanket. Now, she'd lost it, and every seemed to be going awry.
Being a slayer wasn't even supposed to happen again, and here she was, with half the world knowing about her secret identity. OK, so half the world was a bit of an exaggeration. The only people who knew were Mr. Schuester, her watcher, Rachel, Kurt, Mercedes, and now some kid named Artie. Mercedes had urged Buffy this morning to let her friend Artie get the blueprints for the underground tunnel system online because he's such a computer whiz, but Buffy had been reluctant.
"No, I do not want yet another person finding out. This is supposed to be a secret identity. As in, no one knows about. And now over half of glee club has assembled some vampire slaying squad!" she'd said this morning.
"Buffy, what's one more person?" Kurt had said.
"And he can help us. Don't you want to find Jacob?" Rachel had said.
So Buffy was guilted into letting some kid named Artie help her. She didn't like it.
"Buffy?"
Buffy looked up. At some point during New Directions' rehearsal she'd zoned out, staring into the depths of the gray polyester auditorium carpet.
"Yeah?"
Mr. Schue sat down beside her in the front seat. "You're going to have to perform with us at some point."
"Yeah, about that. I only joined glee club to get out of having to talk to Ms. Pillsbury every day-"
"Why do you have to talk to Emma every day?"
"She thinks I'm a delinquent. I burned down my old gym and I attacked Quinn Fabray-"
"You attacked Quinn Fabray?"
"It was a misunderstanding! I thought she was a vampire. Anyways, now I'm forced to see the school therapist and, b-t-dubs, it makes me super nauseous to hear you call each other 'Will' and 'Emma', so can we just stick to Mr. Schuester and Bambi?"
"Right ... " Will trailed off as someone leaned over Buffy's seat, and Buffy turned to see a pretty, young-looking Asian girl with royal purple eyeshadow lining her eyes and lacy gloves over her black polished fingers. Buffy was surprised to see her; she thought she would've already noticed a girl who dressed so distinctively on her first two days of school. How did she manage to fade into the background so well? Buffy eyed her black lace Lolita dress.
"B-B-Buffy?" she stuttered.
"Yes?"
The girl smiled warmly. "A-Artie is r-ready for you. He has the b-blueprints in the c-computer room," she said, ducking her head shyly.
Buffy's face fell. How many people know about this? she thought, shooting Mr. Schuester a pained expression, but she got up and followed the girl.
"What's your name?" asked Buffy.
"T-T-Tina."
So that made her list of people who knew about her secret identity longer. Mr. Schue, Rachel, Kurt, Mercedes, some guy named Artie and T-T-Tina.
xxx
Graveyards were so much less daunting in the daytime. With her hands on the tunnel blueprints in the pocket of her leather jacket, Buffy stalked through the cemetery. From what Artie could tell, one of the entrances was in the graveyard.
"How are you guys so cool with all of this?" she'd asked them as she stuffed the blueprints in her pocket.
"Well, it kind of makes sense," said Artie, taking a stake from his messenger bag and handing it to Buffy.
"Mr. Pointy!" she cried.
Artie and Tina shared a small smirk, making Buffy blush.
"Sorry."
"I-I always knew v-vampires were real," smiled Tina.
"You did?" asked Buffy, skeptical.
"Well, I didn't know. B-but I believed."
Buffy nodded. If only people didn't rationalize everything and just believed, Buffy wouldn't have to keep her identity a secret. Buffy thought about that as she searched the graveyard for some hidden entrance. What if she didn't have to fight alone? What if she could tell her mom? Than everyone would know how much Buffy really goes through. They wouldn't just assume she was some disturbed delinquent.
For some reason, it hit Buffy right then and there. The crypt! All her other thoughts floated away as she set on her path to the crypt she fought those vamps last night. Of course, it all made sense. Sandy Ryerson didn't just disappear into thin air. He disappeared into whatever secret entrance was hidden in the mausoleum. This one, Buffy thought as she stepped up to the familiar crypt in the center of the cemetery. Buffy eyed the rickety door. One impressive chain and padlock was wrapped around it. They sure don't want somebody getting in, thought Buffy, when she heard someone clear their throat.
Buffy whipped her head to the side where a girl was peeking around the corner of the crypt, hidden in the shadows.
"Santana?" Buffy asked quietly. She looked different. But, she couldn't be...
"Buffy?" Santana asked, perplexed, "What are you doing here?"
Buffy looked at the locked door of the crypt, reluctant to answer. Just one more person who thinks she's a freak.
"Do you know how to get in?" asked Buffy.
"They really don't like me dropping in."
"Why not?"
"They really don't like me."
Buffy pursed her glossy lips. Something was going on, but both girls had seemed to decide that if Buffy didn't ask about Santana, Santana wouldn't ask about Buffy.
Buffy jumped back, twirled and karate kicked at the door, the lock falling off with ease. Santana mouth fell open a little, but she knew not to ask.
"They said something about a harvest. On the Harvest, the Master will rise. Or something," said Santana.
Buffy nodded, not allowing her face to screw up into confusion. 'Cause as much as she wanted everyone to think she knew what she was doing, she had no idea what was going on most of the time.
"Take this," said Santana, lifting her arm to reveal a chain dangling from her fingertip with a silver cross at the end of it.
"Thanks," said Buffy, taking the chain and tying it around her neck.
"Seeya," Santana said quietly, slipping back away around the corner of the crypt.
Buffy could barely see in the distance of the underground tunnels. She should have known these things would be dark, but what could she do? She stepped ahead, further and further into the tunnel, quiet on her pink Converse. Buffy stopped, frozen still as her ears pricked up and she heard clicky footsteps. Ugh, she thought, What vampire has the gall to walk around in heels with the slayer around? Buffy sprung into attack mode when she felt something bump into her from behind. She spun in a defense stance with her fists up, prepared to fight.
"Buffy, it's me!" Rachel Berry squeaked like a mouse, holding up her hands, her big tartan Anthropologie bag hanging from the crook of her small elbow.
"Rachel, what are you doing here?" Buffy hissed, head swiveling around to make sure no vamps heard her little surprise guest.
Rachel pulled her purse tight and lifted her chin up, prepared to give a speech. "Buffy, I, Rachel Berry, know more than anyone what it's like to have a certain destiny, and mine is hard enough to fulfill with my own willpower, but the one thing I can not imagine is to have your destiny handed to you from birth and to have to fulfill all on your own. That's why, as your best friend, I've turned to my selfless side, giving you the privilege you've never had before of an extra helping hand, lifting a load off your small shoulders and paving the way-"
"Yeah, okay, whatever, just stay close and don't get in my way," snapped Buffy, turning back into the tunnel and moving forward. Rachel followed, a little taken aback. After all, she was only trying to help. To ease the burden of Buffy's certain future.
Only Buffy didn't see it like Rachel did. All she saw was a short, big-mouthed girl who needed to be the center of attention absolutely everywhere. Buffy doesn't need help. What she needs is for everyone to leave her alone. And best friend? She met the girl two days ago. Then again, out of all the people Buffy met so far in Lima, Rachel seemed to like her best. Does that make her her best friend? Regardless, Rachel was here, and that was just another thing Buffy had to deal with. That and the clicky sound of her heeled penny loafers.
"Did you have to wear those heels?" Buffy hissed, turning her head.
Rachel smiled triumphantly. "I have another pair in my purse!" she said, not hesitating to throw her heels in her bag and slip on a pair of Tory Burch metallic ballet flats.
"I'm glad to see how prepared you are," Buffy grumbled sarcastically. Just how long was Rachel thinking of going patrolling?
"Jacob?" said Rachel.
Buffy strained her eyes and saw Jacob slumped against the wall of the tunnel a few feet ahead. Buffy and Rachel rushed to him in their flats, Buffy bending over to lift the boy up.
"Jacob, are you okay?"
"I am so not okay," said Jacob, looking nervous, his voice wavering, "They said they wanted to use me as bait."
"Great," mumbled Buffy, "Let's get out of here."
"I know a quicker way out than the way you came," said Jacob.
"Take us there," said Buffy, and Rachel followed quickly behind as Jacob led them further and further into the dark abyss of the Lima underground tunnel system.
"Is this really quicker, Jacob?" asked Buffy after they ventured into the tunnel for about five minutes.
Jacob stopped a little halfway. "There," he said, pointing ahead, both Buffy and Rachel bumping into each other as they struggled to take the lead.
"Would you stop it?" said Buffy.
"Stop what?"
The girls' little argument was cut short as they turned towards the tunnel to hear growling echo through the narrow shaft, and sure enough, a pack of vampires were closing in on them from up ahead.
"Run!" said Buffy, knowing she couldn't stop a pack of vampires that big with Jacob and Rachel to take care of, but as the girls turned around, they sharply inhaled at the sight of Jacob Ben Israel leering over them with his eyes glowing red and bearing sharp fangs.
"Jacob..." Rachel murmured innocently, marveling sadly at the transformation of her once weak and pathetic schoolmate. She would've stayed and been eaten by Jacob and the vampire coven that sired him if Buffy wasn't there, spotting another tunnel to their left.
She took a strong grip of Rachel's arm and dragged her down the tunnel, to a door that was left ajar. Rachel stumbled into the small square room, whimpering as her eyes trailed around the small space caked in grime. With the vampires rushing after them, Buffy tried with all her slayer strength to shut the large metal door, and she did, but the pack of vamps were throwing their bodies at the door from the outside. Even with Buffy's strength, it wouldn't hold for long.
"What do we do?" shrieked Rachel.
As it appeared, the girls were stuck in this small dead end room until the vampires grew tired and left. Which they never would.
"There!" Buffy said, back to the door as she pushed it against the hungry vamps, pointing to a ladder on the wall of the other side of the room. Rachel turned around to see the rungs of the ladder built into the wall, and her eyes led up until she saw it led into a manhole in the ceiling. With no hesitation, Rachel ignored the rust and the grime on the ladder rungs and climbed it anyways, with a little difficulty in her ballet flats and her green houndstooth skirt. She stuck her small hand up and pushed on the manhole lid, shifting it only a little with her minimum strength.
"Rachel, hurry!" cried Buffy, her back aching under the pressure of the metal door.
Rachel pushed with all her might until the lid shifted, making a hole big enough for her to get through. She crawled through the hole and hoisted herself up onto the road just outside of the suburbs at the edge of the cemetery. She blinked in the broad daylight and made sure no one was around to see the strange sight.
Buffy rocked forward as the vamps on the other side almost busted through. "1...2...3," she muttered under her breath before breaking into a small run, leaping onto the ladder and climbing up the rungs with great speed. She could hear the metal door busting open and the vamps pouring in below her. She stuck her head up through the manhole and was about to hoist herself out when a clammy hand grasped her ankle. She was tugged down a little, her fingertips gripping the pavement above ground until another pair of much warmer hands rested on her wrists. They were Rachel's - Rachel's hands pulling her with all the strength she had, which wasn't much. But it was enough. Rachel pulled and Buffy lifted her own weight until her ankle was out in the sun and the vamp's hand burned, and pulled away back into the darkness.
Buffy quickly closed the lid back on the manhole, and let her eyes adjust to the bright sun before she looked over at Rachel who was just as covered in dirt and dust.
"Thank you," said Buffy, breathless.
"Of course," Rachel said quietly, brown eyes still on the manhole, unsettled.
xxx
Sandy, Jacob and the others knelt on the mound of rocks. Jacob winced, but the rest of them were used to the dents of small pebbles on their knees.
"So blondie got away again?"
The all trembled on the spot. Just the Master's voice was enough to send fearful shivers down their spines.
"She traipsed in, fell for the Jew-bait, even brought her juicy little Yentl friend with her. And you still didn't catch them. Is this a coven of vampires or a coven of vampwusses, because I'm starting to think I should just hire the Care Bears to do my dirty work. Answer me!"
The vamps shook at the Master's yell.
"Master, the slayer is strong, and resourceful-" said Sandy
"I've heard the slayer speech, Liberace. She better not get in the way of my Harvest."
"She won't, Master," Sandy whimpered.
"Good. 'Cause I've been sitting on this throne of rock since the 90s and I have a bed sore on my bottom that looks like a rotting apple."
The Master kicked back in her throne made of rock, leering at her minions kneeling just beyond the force field she was imprisoned in since the 90s.
"The Harvest is tonight, and you'll be my vessel, Pink Dagger."
Sandy's eyes lit up at the opportunity.
"I will not let you down, Master."
"And make it a big show, will you? I don't want my revolution to go unnoticed."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Master."
"Good," she said, shaking back her cropped blond hair, "'Cause after tonight, I'll be the cock of the walk, and once again, the only thing that will strike fear in the hearts of the residents of Lima, Ohio is the name Sue Sylvester."
xxx
Emma looked up and couldn't contain a smile.
There was something about the way Will Schuester walked, so carefree in his vests and his sneakers, with the bronze curls on his head bobbing up and down. He caught her eye as the two walked towards each other in the abandoned hallway of McKinley High. He smiled. Oh, that smile. Emma could look at it for days. So honest and cutely crooked.
"Hey, Emma. What's up?" he asked.
Emma melted. She lived for the way Will Schuester said her name.
"Oh, nothing, Will. Just going home. How are you? How's glee club?"
"It's uh, it's good. Well, we need six more members to compete, but, the kids, they work so hard," said Will, looking through the small window on the choir room door. The kids were still in there, with exception of Finn.
"Oh, they're still here? School ended an hour ago."
Will bit the inside of his cheek. "After school rehearsal."
"Right. Great. You're so dedicated."
Will shrugged, smiling crookedly. "I was gonna take them to see this other glee club perform at Carmel High on Saturday. I was actually wondering if you'd want to accompany me. As a chaperone."
Emma's hazel eyes lit up. "I'd love to!" she exclaimed.
"Great," smiled Will, "Well, see you there."
"And then Buffy's holding down the door with all her might while the vamps throw their bodies against it, and you can just hear them snarling on the other side of it, and I look around and I thought I was about to have panic attack because there was no way out, just four walls-" says Rachel, aflutter with emphatic hand gestures. A natural storyteller.
"Until I see these ladders on the other side of the wall leading up to this manhole, and I'm like, 'Rachel, over there!'," Buffy accounts, matching Rachel's passion for the story. She never imagined recounting her experiences as a slayer to her friends - to anyone. It was fun.
"And I leap on as soon as I see the steps and Buffy's still holding back the vampires when I get to the top, and I push-" Rachel mimmicks pushing with both her hands splayed out in front of her, "Those lids are heavier than you'd think."
"And by this point the vamps are just about ready to bust right through."
"And I lunge and push the lid and it opens just enough for me to get through, so I climb out, and then it seems to bright compared to the tunnels."
"And then I leap onto the ladder and the vampires have busted through the door, and as soon as I'm almost out, one grabs my ankle! It probably would've pulled me back in if Rachel hadn't grabbed my hands and pulled me out."
Rachel blushed with faux modesty. "You would've done the same for me."
"Wow. You guys are like s-superheros," stuttered Tina, her laptop balanced on her lap.
"That must have been so scary," said Mercedes.
"It was. It was the most exhilarating day of my life," Rachel grinned.
"So Jacob is a vampire now?" asked Kurt.
Rachel and Buffy's faces fell. They'd been so caught up in the recount of their crazy vampire encounter, they'd forgotten that they'd lost Jacob to the dark side.
"You tried your best," said Mercedes, resting a hand on Buffy's shoulder.
"Didn't do a lot of good," sighed Buffy.
"Hey, guys," said Mr. Schuester, closing the choir room door behind him.
The glee kids were huddled together around the plastic chairs, Tina typing away on her laptop.
"So, what do we got?" he asked, sitting up on Brad's piano.
"Other than a coven of vampires who know the slayer's in town? Squat," said Buffy, "But Tina's researching."
"What are you researching?"
"Buffy t-told me about the H-Harvest. I'm j-just trying to f-find out what it means," stuttered Tina, her head down as she searched for the phrase.
"The Harvest? Where'd you hear that?" asked Mr. Schuester.
Buffy squirmed in her seat. Maybe she wasn't thinking straight, and maybe she'd come to regret it, but she didn't want to tell anyone that she saw Santana yesterday. She had a feeling Santana didn't want anyone knowing where she was. The slayer certainly didn't want the girl spilling to all of her cheerleader friends that she'd seen Buffy skulking around the graveyard.
"I heard some vamps talking about it."
"I didn't hear them saying anything like that," said Rachel.
"Uh, it's because I was holding the door. They were talking about how tonight's the Harvest and the Master will rise."
"The Master?" said Mr. Schuester.
"Uh, yeah. Does that mean anything to you?"
Mr. Schuester rubbed his hands on his jeans. "Well, maybe. When I started teaching, there was this story about how one of the old teachers went on vacation and came back a vampire, wreaked havoc around Lima. Apparently there was no slayer around then, so no one could stop her. She would turn others and force them to her bidding and call her the Master."
"So what happened to her?" asked Artie.
"She tried to open the Hellmouth. A portal to Hell. But instead she triggered an earthquake that buried her, and the Hellmouth with her."
"I f-found something," said Tina.
"What is it?" asked Buffy as the whole gang moved to huddle over Tina's small laptop.
"It's a W-Wiccan forum, t-talking about the H-Harvest," stuttered Tina, under the stare of everyone in the room, "It s-s-says that th-the H-H-H-"
"I'll read it," said Rachel, lifting Tina's computer and holding it on her own lap, "The Harvest is a night that comes once a decade, where the Master's Vessel can drink the blood of the innocent and through the Vessel the Master will gain power to escape her prison. And apparently the Vessel has this symbol."
Rachel turned the laptop around to show everyone a picture of a symbol that looked like it belonged on a car hood.
Buffy furrowed her brow. "I know that symbol."
"Do you know where you saw it?"
Buffy looked harder, and sighed in defeat. "No. But I just dust anyone sporting this look and we're good to go, right? No Master to have to deal with."
"That sounds about right," said Mr. Schuester, rocking back and forth in his cream colored sneakers.
"Where do you suppose they'll be tonight?" asked Buffy.
"Probably Breadstix," said Kurt, filing his nails. He looked up from his cuticles and the others were staring at him with an 'elaborate, please' look. "Well, because everybody goes there after school. It's a hot spot for young blood."
Buffy nodded. "He's right. Breadstix it is. Meet me there in an hour. I need to go home first."
"For what?" asked Mr. Schue.
"For weapons."