Somehow (I'm still not sure exactly how) Willow managed to talk me into helping with decorations for the parent/teacher conference. Buffy was there to work on it too, complete with overalls and armed with a paintbrush and a can of paint.

I'd managed not to get smudged with it so far, but then again I was standing as far back from the sign I was painting as I possibly could be, and tapping the tip of my brush on it every once in a while. I was a reluctant volunteer, I must say.

Buffy was complaining about a girl named Sheila, who had been supposed to help Buffy with decorations, but had bailed and no one could find her. Apparently she did this a lot. I think she was what known as a 'problem child'. What I thought was odd was that Buffy was also supposed to be considered a problem child, that's why she was here.

I suppose from the faculty's standpoint, she was: she skipped class, she sometimes got into fights, she was late, etc. But she was hardly a delinquent. I suppose her reputation had carried over mostly from her old school.

Which had burned down…

"You know," Willow's voice intruded on my thoughts, "she likes to go this really cruddy bar, the Fish-Tank."

"What a promising title." I murmured, still tapping away with my bush.

"It's as bad as it sounds," Willow assured me, "there's raids and…'other stuff' that could make you tardy."

Buffy sighed in defeat and shrugged. She seemed distracted today. I'd been assuming it was about having to help decorate, but now I had a feeling it was for something else.

"Hey," she said, "could you guys help me cram for French tonight? I don't want our teacher telling Mom I'm an imbecile."

"I thought we were going to the Bronze tonight?" Willow said, "Because you thought Angel might show?"

"I do wish he'd learn to use the bloody phone." I said, finishing my dabbing and putting the brush down, "It'd be much more convenient for evening-planning. It's been centuries since it was invented, you can't not know how to use one."

Buffy giggled in agreement as Xander, who'd been wondering around, trying to look busy but had yet to even wet his paintbrush, came up, of course more than ready to shoot the idea down immediately.

"If he does come he'll meet some other nice girl," he said, "studying comes first." He over-enunciated the last three words and waved his dry paintbrush in emphasis. He'd lost the debate before it'd even begun, however.

I had to teach him the power of wording, some day. Starting off with "he might meet some other girl" was not the way to make a girl in love not want to see the object of her affection.

"We're going to the Bronze." Buffy announced.

See?

"I can study," she said, trying to convince herself it sounded like, "and party, and do parent/teacher night, and make my mother proud as long as it doesn't involve-"

Ah. Perhaps I needed to teach her how not to tempt fate. Fate will more than gladly rise to take the bait every time and it's never a pleasant experience. Poor girl. She didn't even get to finish her sentence when I caught a whiff of tweed in the air, leather shoes striding across the tile floor, and then heard Giles call Buffy's name.

"-fight vampires." Buffy finished, tensing.

I looked over to watch Giles approach and tensed up myself when I saw Ms. Calendar was with him. We'd mostly agreed to just leave each other alone, but sometimes we couldn't help but be forced together. For the most part we were civil but…

Mercy but I hate rude children.

"There's nothing in the Chronicles about an extraneous lunar cycle," Giles was saying to Ms. Calendar as they approached. I frowned and tilted my head to listen better. I wasn't sure that I'd ever even heard of an extraneous lunar cycle. The moon doesn't just go off by itself on a new cycle.

"The Order never properly calculated the Mesopotamian calendar," Ms. Calendar argued, "Rupert, you have got to read something that was published after 1066."

"Very funny." Giles muttered grumpily.

"What's the up, guys?" Xander asked, finally starting to paint something. I turned to him and frowned in confusion.

"What's the up?" I repeated, "Is that a new greeting?"

Xander shrugged and nodded whilst Buffy and Willow shook their heads. Ah, 'twas a colloquialism of Xander's. Of course.

"Well, Miss Calendar has been researching," he corrected himself, "well, surfing on her computer and she's - well, according to her calculations- well-" he stopped, fumbled a bit, looked at Ms. Calendar, looked at me, then looked at Buffy.

"This Saturday is the night of Saint Vigeous ."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Vigeous?" I repeated, "Giles, are you certain?" He looked at me an nodded solemnly. That was a name I'd not heard in a very long time. In fact I'd almost started to the think the Crusade of Vigeous was a myth, used to bolster vampires' ego or give them a power trip.

Buffy looked between us and smirked.

"Let me guess," she said, "he didn't make balloon animals."

"He led a crusade," I said, turning back to her, "of vampires." I looked back at Giles, "I read of that. It was before my time, but only just. The areas that were attacked were still under reconstruction when I was born."

Xander whistled softly as Giles took up the narrative.

"They swept through Hedessa, Haran, and points east." He said.

"And they didn't leave much behind." Ms. Calendar stated.

"Entire villages and towns disappeared if they didn't have walls," I said, even if they did have walls the town would be decimated."

"Well, I have parent/teacher night tomorrow," Buffy said, completely nonplussed and not impressed a bit with Vigeous.

"I'll see what I can do about Saturday." She finished.

"You're being a tad flippant, don't you think?" Giles reprimanded in a quiet, urgent tone, "This is serious."

Buffy blinked at him.

"And getting kicked out of school is laughs a plenty?" she said.

"You know what happens when-" Giles began, leaning forward…into the paint. He grimaced and pulled back, looking in disdain at the yellow coating on his hand. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a paint-rag and tossed it to him.

"-you let your life get in the way of your slaying." He finished, rubbing the paint off.

"Okay," Buffy sighed, "if the slaying doesn't get me expelled then the banner-making won't get me killed, okay? Just please let me get through this week." Bless her dear heart, she sounded tired.

"This Saturday is going to take a great deal of preparation." Giles argued.

"We'll managed it, Rupert." I told him, "We always do." I looked at the two children, "We'll assist, correct?"

Willow nodded while Xander grinned and said: "I'll whittle stakes!"

"And I can research stuff." Willow said.

"I'll help research and run through some fighting exercises with Buffy when she has free-time, whilst helping her remembering French verbs." I offered.

"And while I'm whittling, I'll whistle a jaunty tune!" Xander added.

I rolled my eyes and groaned while Buffy looked at him in bemusement.

Giles cleared his throat, struggling not to roll his eyes.

"Yes, well, your help will be greatly appreciated," he muttered, "when it comes to fighting, however, you will have to fight alone, after all you are the Slayer."

Principal Snyder cleared his throat loudly behind us. I had smelled him approaching but I hadn't thought him close enough to overhear us. Giles wasn't taking that chance, however.

"Sla…ves." He said, "You're all slaves!" he said, "Slaves to the…uh…television."

"Yes." Ms. Calendar agreed a little too quickly.

"Yes," Giles said, "young people these days…uh, shall we go?"

"Let's." Ms. Calendar agree, sauntering off with him in a hurry. I almost giggled, but managed to keep my composure and start dabbing at the blotch Giles had left when he had leaned into the paint. Principal Snyder marched up to us, I could practically feel the animosity sliding off of him in waves.

I often felt something similar from retail workers.

I couldn't blame them, but Snyder needed to calm down.

"You wouldn't be helping Buffy in Sheila's place, would you?" he asked in a tone one would use for children. I ignored him and continued painting. He always chose to ignore me so I wasn't too worried about it.

"No!" Willow exclaimed, while Xander repeated the word a little less forcefully and dropped his paintbrush nonchalantly.

"We're hindering." Willow said.

"She ditched." Snyder said, nodding in satisfaction. He took a deep breath and sighed almost in rapture.

"I feel an expulsion coming on." He said, almost grinning. I frowned as I put the finishing touches on the pain and straightened. Of all the people who were most emotionally and mentally suited for this job…it was not Snyder.

"Actually," Buffy said, "Sheila's been helping us for hours, she just, uh,"

I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke, cheap booze, raging hormones, and just the slightest hint of stale vomit. I looked over my shoulder as a little female child shuffled into view. Well, I say, child she was of an age with Buffy, but she had dark shades on and moved painfully slowly.

Hungover.

"-got back." I finished Buffy's sentence for her.

Buffy whirled around while Snyder jerked a bit in surprise and peered suspiciously at me, trying to place me.

"Oh!" Buffy said, trying to cover her surprise as quickly as possible, "Oh, is there no more teal in the art room?" she asked, scurrying up to the very baffled looking Sheila.

"I know you wanted everything to be perfect," Buffy said, "but let's just go with what we have."

Snyder didn't look convinced, but Sheila was here, and he couldn't disprove what Buffy had said, so I could see him resigning himself to not executing an immediate expulsion. It was like watching a child trying not to cry after not receiving a promised ice-cream.

"Just make sure everything is perfect," he said, "on Thursday."

With that, he cast one last glare around at our group, though he still looked baffled by me, and then stalked away, muttering angrily to himself.

"Thanks for covering for me." Sheila said, her voice dry and tired sounding. I could smell the cheap beer on her breath from where I was standing. Then again, I would, wouldn't I?
"Guy's a serious rodent." She added.

"No problem." Buffy said, coming back over to the table.

Willow and Xander were already moving away, now that Sheila had arrived. Right, we had work to do. The painting was all but done, there were just a few more smaller signs to take care of. Surely Buffy and Sheila could handle that?

"Come to the library when you get a free moment so we can study." I told Buffy. I smirked.

"Nous avons beaucoup à pratiquer." I said. She stared at me blankly, confirming my statement.

"We have much to practice." I supplied. She swallowed.

"Oh." She breathed weakly.

Poor dear, it can't be easy to juggle so many things all at once. And we still had to go to the Bronze tonight. Or, she did, anyway. I wasn't sure I really wanted to go. I wasn't exactly itching to see Angel, not because I disliked him so much, per se, but just because I had a feeling he'd turn up at some point or another even if I didn't go.

And I wasn't in a mood to be around people. Of course, that could be said of me at any given moment, but I really didn't feel like hanging around a place full of loud, thrashing kids who had no idea what damage was being done to their eardrums.

Then again, maybe I needed a night out?

We'd have to see.

(Okay, so, little edit here, I totally messed up the date for parent/teacher night in the previous chapter, woops! So, there might be a bit of tweaking here to compensate for that so I'm sorry if there's a bit of confusion! Also, I'm having trouble deciding if I want to have Margery go to the Bronze or wait until Spike attacks the school so if you've an opinion about that do not hesitate to share! Thanks for reading and again, sorry for the confusion, I forgot there was a bit of a gap until the parent/teacher night)