"So any luck with our mysterious cases of disappearing?" Nadja asked at lunch the next day.

"I wish. Anything would be good right now," Beth sighed, poking her green beans forlornly.

"Even someone disappearing?" Nadja asked.

"Well, okay, maybe not that," she responded. "I just wish I could access police files or something! I have an aunt who can, but she's in Scotland and would probably frown upon my illegal behavior."

"You just told me she could break into police records. Frowning upon it seems hypocritical," Nadja pointed out.

"Yeah, but I don't think she's ever done it. I just meant that she could, if she really wanted to."

Beth glanced over the grounds to see a bunch of girls crowded around the back fence, seemingly admiring the ivy leaves that covered the metal chain link. She tilted her head and frowned. She didn't think ivy could be all that intriguing.

"Why are those girls wearing pants?" Beth asked, realizing what had originally caught her attention. She knew pants couldn't be worn by the girl students. If they could, she would've already been wearing them (high winds were no fan of hers). She looked down at her own pleated skirt and frowned. "I want pants."

"Those are seniors," Nadja enunciated like it meant something. At Beth's blank look she added, "You know, top of the food chain? They rule the school? Think they're all big and bad?"

"I thought that was the sophomores," Beth asked, trying to remember her high school TV shows.

"They think they're all hoity-toity yeah, but they know they're really not. Seniors think they're cool so ergo, they are."

"It's still against school policy," Beth stated somewhat grouchily.

"Well, it's not like they'll get kicked out or anything. They'll just wear the pants even if they're told not to, so the teachers don't really care."

"Well, I want to wear pants," she muttered under her breath before adding in louder voice, "And what are they doing over there anyway?"

"Probably talking to their boyfriends," Nadja supplied. "My cousin says there's always a group of boys over there at lunch too."

"Your cousin?" Beth questioned, her interest piqued.

"Yeah, the one who picked me up yesterday? He drives me to school and all. He makes me walk all the way over to his car after classes just so he can talk with his stupid friends. He's a jerk. And a Junior. He thinks he's pretty cool too, but let me tell you, he is such a nerd."

"Is that a bad thing?" She thought of Mr. Wells, the absolutely epitome of nerdom who was currently working a six-figure sum and bringing together a nice collection of Star Trek memorabilia. He even had some actual models from the show.

"Only if you think you aren't. He's a major science geek. He wants to major in engineering at like MIT or something," she explained dismissively.

"MIT is nice," Beth hedged, not quite sure if Nadja was insulting her cousin or simply stating a fact.

"It is, plus it's really hard to get into, but his parents are gaga over him and his stupid brain," she grumbled.

Ah, there it was. The hint that finally gave Nadja away. She was envious and feeling a tad bit ignored. Beth knew that feeling well. Despite her above average strength, she had always been jealous of the Slayers. When she had been younger, she used to watch them sparring in the gym, exchanging blows and hits, never once backing down. In fact, each hit seemed to fuel them as they only fought back even harder. Beth herself was not a weakling with no tolerance for pain, but she sure didn't have the endurance of the other girls. Even her father, lacking the super-healing with his vampiric strength, still seemed to keep on coming. Of course, her mother had suggested more than once when she thought Beth wouldn't understand the implied meaning that maybe Spike liked getting hurt. She didn't know why her mother danced around the topic; it only made sense to Beth that a guy who had spent over a century as a vampire—a fangy package carrying raping, murdering, and pillaging all under the same wrapping—would be a bit of a masochist.

"Some people are just really good at certain things. Everyone has something they're good at," Beth assuaged.

"Like you and sports?" Beth blinked at the slightly hostile tone. She herself had never thought she was ever better at something than another. She had spent most of her life in castle of girls who had been picked especially because they were much better at things than anyone else (hello sacred calling). Her own mother was the Slayer. Her aunt had once been an all-knowing ball of energy capable of tearing down walls between dimensions. Her father was once a vampire who went out and won his own soul, something he was never, ever supposed to want to have in the first place. Inferiority complex was up Beth's alley.

"I suppose so," she responded, not wanting to aggravate Nadja further by making her feel like Beth was trying to be unnecessarily modest, "but we're always surrounded by people who make us feel like less than what we are. Listen, my uncle is the dopiest guy you could ever meet. He's not really all that special, you know? He's normal, like you. But he used to help my mum save the world all the time. He fought demons and vampires and assisted in more than his fair share of apocalypses. He didn't have superpowers and he couldn't injure a fly even if he wanted to. But if it wasn't for him, the world would've ended years ago. He's pretty extraordinary, if you ask me."

"This sounds like a pep talk," Nadja grumbled slightly.

She sighed, trying to explain, "What I'm trying to say is that you may not think you offer anything. You might not think you're cool or awesome or spectacular or any of those synonymous adjectives. But you don't have to have some unique skills to be important. My uncle is a contractor. He fixes tables and repairs walls when my little cousin puts a dent in them. But he's done so much for this world, and nobody will ever know."

Despite her wants, Nadja smiled lightly. "You sure do make people sound important. You have a point, I guess. Maybe it'll just take me longer to figure out what I'm supposed to do with my life. Sometimes I just feel pressured to be the best. Like maybe if I was smarter or funnier or more creative, I'd be liked more."

Beth shrugged. "I don't think I'd like you more just because you have some great skill. You're one of the first real friends I've ever had, and I like you for that."

Nadja ducked her head out of embarrassment. "Oh, you flatter me so. I'd like to meet your uncle though. He sounds pretty cool."

"Just don't ask him about his yellow crayon story, because once he gets going, he won't ever stop."

Nadja laughed, tilting her head back in the process. Beth smiled at her, joining in on her laughter.

"Hey, if you're not too busy this weekend, you think you'd want to go to the movies with me?" Nadja asked shyly once she stopped laughing.

Beth grinned. "I'd love to. I'll ask my dad for some money."

She shook her head. "Not necessary. The theaters are family-owned here, and my family owns them. I can get in for free."

Beth's eyes widened. "You can see any movie you want for free?"

"Yup. And I can invite friends along too," she added. "Kalder Theaters. That's me. Nadja Rayna Kalder."

"Okay, that's really cool," Beth breathed. "I'm really glad I'm your friend."

"What? So now you like me because I can get you into the movies for free?" she teased. "What about that whole 'I'd like you even if you were as fun as dirt' speech you just gave a few minutes ago?"

"I like perks. There's nothing wrong with sweetening a deal."

"Alright, got me there. Here, I'll give you my address and you can come by my house at one on Saturday. We can spend all day at the movies if you want."

"Do we get free popcorn?" Beth asked hopefully.

"And candy. And soda. And arcade tokens."

Beth couldn't help herself. She threw herself at Nadja and collected the small girl in a hug. Thankfully, Nadja hugged back, though not without letting out an amused snort.

"Think of it this way," she said. "You allowed me access to cool books and I'm allowing you access to free movies. I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."

-.-

Beth watched the minutes tick by on the clock in eighth period Friday afternoon, patiently awaiting the weekend. Not only did Friday signify the start of sleeping in and no-uniform days, but also the arrival of her mother. Somehow it had slipped her mind to ask her dad when her mother's plane came in, but Beth gave little mind to it. After all, Friday was only so long.

Her biology teacher continued to drone on about something or another (maybe cellular respiration?) as she kept her eyes trained on the clock. Yes, only three more minutes and then she was home free! Of course, only to be fair, the Universe had to make those three minutes span the time of twenty, but patience was virtue. And unlike Spike, she had patience.

Two minutes. Okay, never mind, she took that back. She lacked patience like the Sahara lacked rain. Maybe she could learn a thing or two about meditation from Willow.

"Now," Mrs. Cobb finished, "I want you all to read chapter three by Tuesday. You have the whole weekend to do it, so I don't want to hear any complaints." She heard groans anyway, because, honestly, who did homework on the weekend? Beth had, but that was before she had friends and thus plans to go spend the day at the movies with them. That was old Beth. This was the new and improved Beth.

Finally, the bell rang, and they were all excused to trample others in their attempt at a quick exit of the school building. She hurried to her locker to collect her stuff before hurrying down the stairs to find her dad's car. She caught sight of Nadja walking across the grass towards the boy's school, no doubt to get her ride from her cousin. Beth smiled and waved at her friend as she passed.

Nearing the parking lot, she scoured the area for her father's black Corvette. She didn't find it, but she did find a little red Buick with a blonde leaning against the hood.

"Mum!" she squealed, running to Buffy regardless of her audience. Buffy's face broke out into a wide grin as she embraced her daughter, picking her up off her feet and swinging her around. It didn't matter that Beth was nearly her size, this was her daughter and dammit, Buffy was going to hug like she was three again.

"Oh, I'm so happy you're back!" Beth told her with a huge grin once her mother finally put her down on her own two feet.

"What? Was your father not enough for you? His presence was lacking?" Buffy joked.

"I need more girl to make him embrace his more feminine side," she replied. "And new car. When'd you get this?"

"Gorgeous, right?" Buffy asked. "I bought it online and just picked it up today after your dad came and got me from the airport. I wanted my own car."

"Can I drive it?" she asked.

"When you get a license, you can," Buffy responded in a motherly tone.

She pouted. "Oh, but it's so pretty and new!"

"Which is why you're going to wait until you have a license. I'd like to keep it that way," Buffy informed her. "Now, whaddya say we jump in and go home to wake your dad? I think I left him sprawled out on the couch."

She snickered. "He had a late night again. He was dead on his feet when he dropped me off at school this morning."

"Well, he's used to it. Ex-vampire after all. So tell me all about school."

-.-

Beth was still talking animatedly with her mom when the two walked in the door of their home. She wanted to know how everyone had been since she left and if anyone missed her. Apparently Mr. Wells had gone scavenging for a new TV buddy. Buffy told hrt that she had a gift from Willow in her bag and she could hardly wait. She had a keen interest in magic, ever since she saw the cool tricks her Aunt Willow could do with just a flick of her finger. Of course, the story of how she released all the slayers was also a great selling point. Only cool, magical gifts ever came from Aunt Willow, even if they were met with her father's disapproving look. Spike could be such a spoilsport.

"We're home!" Beth called, seeing her dad laying out on the couch, one foot propped up on the armrest, the other boot down on the floor, with one arm over his eyes and the other thrown over the back of the couch.

"He looks funny," Buffy commented, coming into the living room to see.

"Dad," she called, crouching down next to him. "Wake up."

His eye shot open to look directly into hers. "I see your mum went an' got you," he mumbled, sitting up and trying to smooth down his hair. It was futile as a few errant curls had gotten free and were now wreaking havoc on his image.

"Yeah she did."

"Did you tell her that you made a friend?" he asked.

"She did," Buffy responded. "I nice girl named Nadja."

"And we're going to the movies tomorrow!" Beth added with a giddy smile.

"That you are, pet," he agreed. "You want to drive her, love, or should I?"

"I want to sleep," she answered. "I am majorly jet-lagged. It doesn't matter how often I fly in planes; I can't sleep on them! It's terrible! But I get Bethie on Sunday. We're taking a girl's day to go shopping and get our nails done!"

Beth smiled. "Yeah, major mondo girl's day. Lots of new clothes and shoes and other things. Like accessories."

"Going to burn a hole in your mum's wallet?" he asked with a lazy smile.

"Well, she'll help," Buffy replied. "You can take the girl out of the valley, but you can't take the valley out of the girl."

"Mm, least I won't have to carry the bags," he murmured, standing up and stretching.

"Bethie," Buffy began, eyeing her husband. "Why don't you go up and do your homework so we can go out for dinner tonight? I think we should celebrate now that the whole family's moved in."

Pointedly ignoring her mother's look directed at Spike, she headed upstairs, slamming her door behind her.

He looked from the direction Beth had gone to his wife. "Tryin' to get rid of her already, hm?" He asked, sauntering over to her. "Still not done with me yet? Not even with this afternoon?"

He made a move to wrap his arms around Buffy and pull her up against him, but she held him back with a firm hand on his chest. "Oh, Mr. I-Think-With-My-Other-Head, I have important matters to discuss with you."

He pouted, something she only ever saw him do when she turned him down for sex. "Like what?" he asked, sounding very much like a child whose favorite toy was taken away. And considering what he had been expecting ,that comparison seemed a bit too on the nose.

"Beth told me about the disappearances happening at her school," she stated plainly, trying to wait until he told his story before she actually got angry.

He groaned. "She went to you now? Look, I went around an' asked some locals and they told me nothing I could use. Mos' wouldn't even talk to me."

"I don't blame them. You look like a no-good punk when you go out. Or, considering your age now, some guy who sells kiddie porn."

He glared at her. "I changed clothes. Still wouldn't tell me anything. The few who had anything to say laughed at me for asking! Even the demon bars had nothing. 'M still looking around, but I've got nothing Buffy. Nothing."

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "I guess it's a good thing I'm here then. Maybe they'll talk to me."

"You'd get access to police files and records. I've said it before and I'll say it again, 'm just a guy with my ear to the ground," he stated.

"Maybe it is just some high school horror story for new kids, but I don't want Beth to feel like we don't believe her. If she does hear something, I want her to feel comfortable telling us. Considering all that went down at my high school, it wouldn't surprise me that Beth's is hiding something sinister," she explained.

"'M not shooting down her search, I only told her I have to focus on other things until I have more proof that these disappearances have something behind them."

She smiled. "Okay then. That's all you can do right now."

He looked over at Buffy with a slow, simmering smile. "So, can I welcome you home all proper like now?"

She rolled her eyes, but her expression was teasing. "You already did that earlier."

"An' now I'd like to do it again."

Up in her room, Beth pulled her headphones out of her bedside table as she heard her mother's shriek of laughter, followed by a low moan. She'd take Johnny Rotten over that any day.

-.-

Beth peered out the window of her father's car, silently reading off the house numbers as Spike drove slow enough for her to see them.

"Nice neighborhood," he noted. "S'big."

"Her family owns the movie theaters. I imagine they're kinda rich," she responded off-handedly.

It truly was a pretty nifty looking neighborhood. The houses were decently sized with large front windows and porch lights that looked more like something she had seen at the castle in Scotland. Some had wraparound porches while other sported tall pillars along the entryway. Most were made of brick or stone and were at least two stories tall. The lots were large and spacious in lightly wooded area, only a few miles from the woods. Some even had lake access, a trait Beth was far too envious of. She wanted to live in a house with lake access.

"Why didn't we live here?" she asked petulantly. "Doesn't mom make like a heckuva lot of money?"

"Yes," was her father's one worded response.

She huffed. "I think it's the one on the end there," she said, pointing to the house on the corner. It was a large house with a circular driveway dotted with tall bushes and surrounded by a lush, green lawn. The house was made of stone with wooden beams along the front entrance to create a small porch. To the side was a detached garage where Beth could see a red Prius and a large black Ram truck spattered with dirt, its gargantuan presence dwarfing the smaller, more eco-friendly car.

"Somebody goes mudding," she stated. "Is that actually a thing?"

"What?"

"Never mind. This is her house. Pull up here and just drop me off," she commanded.

"'M going in to meet her parents," he told her.

She whipped her head around to look at her dad as he parked the car. "You're not serious, are you? Why? Why do you feel the need to do that?"

"They're taking you to the movies. I jus' want to introduce myself to them. Sure they'd like to meet me," he reasoned, trying to make her look like the unreasonable one.

"Well, for the love of me, don't introduce yourself as Spike," she pleaded. "That isn't a question I want either one of us to be forced to answer."

"Got another name," he reminded her.

"One you never use besides on official forms," she retorted.

"Jus' get out of the car."

She did as he asked, stepping out and shutting the door behind her. "Remember, you are William. Don't even add the Bloody. It wasn't funny when Xander forged your paperwork, and it isn't funny now."

"William T. Bloody," he muttered. "Git."

They walked up to the house side by side. They stopped in front of the door and she reached to ring the doorbell. A pleasant looking woman in her forties with wavy brown hair and olive skin opened the door.

"Oh, you must be Beth and her father," she greeted with a warm smile. "I'm Vera, Nadja's mother. Please, come in."

They did just that, stepping into a wide living room. The room was colored in cream with accents of chocolate brown and red.

"'M William," Spike introduced himself to Vera, still keeping a strong hold onto his cockney accent. Beth knew it was fake, as fake as his punk persona. At least he had worn a color that wasn't black.

"Nice to meet you, William. I'm happy to see that our daughters have been getting along quite nicely. After Nadja's last friend, I was worried she would have to spend her first year of high school without any company."

He smiled. "Can say the same for Beth here. 'M glad to know she's got a friend."

Beth rolled her eyes at their small talk.

"Nadja, your friend is here!" Vera called up the stairs located on the other side of the archway. And my goddesses, what a staircase it was. Wide with tiled steps and shiny wooden banisters on either side before splitting left and right to reach the second floor. The chandelier above it was magnificent as well.

"Can you say Gone with the Wind?" Beth muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, but I'd rather not," Spike responded with a repressed grin.

From the right, Nadja came hurrying down the steps, taking two at a time. "You're here!" she called, smiling at Beth before noticing Spike's presence.

"Uh, hello. Nice to see you again, Mr. Summers," she said.

Spike smiled but didn't bother to correct her.

"Well, I best be going then. Have fun you two. And Beth? Call me when you're done, alright? Your mum might come by an' pick you up," he said. "Her mum just got back from Scotland an' has a real nasty case of jet lag," he explained to Vera.

She nodded her head. "Well, it will be a pleasure to meet Mrs. Summers as well. Have a good day, William."

Spike gave one last hug to his daughter, looking a bit too misty eyed for her comfort. She rolled her eyes, practically pushing him out the front door before he broke out into happy tears about his daughter having a friend that wasn't the slightest bit connected to her crazy, demon-filled life. No, Jackie did not count, and he would be sorely disappointed to find that out.

"Well, Nadja, if you need me, I'll be in the kitchen. You two can go over to your Uncle's house anytime when you want to leave. Zack is available to drive you," Vera told her daughter before walking through the double doors to their right.

"My mom's a chef, if I haven't mentioned that. She does a lot of experimental cooking on her days off," Nadja explained. "We can go now unless you wanna check out my room."

"Your house is pretty amazing," Beth complimented. "Your bedroom as big?"

Nadja grinned, tugging at the bottom of her peasant blouse. Beth was relieved to have the weekend to wear anything she wanted and Nadja seemed to agree, sporting her loose blouse, shorts, and more jewelry than was allowed by the dress code. Beth admitted to herself that Nadja did look nice compared to Beth's heavy boots, faded jeans, and her off the shoulder grey shirt with the ripped collar. Beth began to realize maybe she embodied her father's punk style more than she was happy to admit.

"I like your necklace," Beth commented on the leather-bead-and-feather accessory.

"I have an aunt that is a part time dance teacher, part time jewelry maker. I don't think I've ever bought a single piece of jewelry," Nadja decided.

Once upstairs, she led Beth down the hallway to her bedroom. She swung open the double doors to allow Beth to gawk.

Nadja's room was as spacious as Beth imagined it would be, with a connecting door to her bathroom and French doors leading to a small balcony. The walls were a deep shade of green and the floors and rich brown wood, overlapped with carpets of vibrant and numerous colors. Strings of paper lanterns hung along the tops of the walls along with patterned blankets and monochromatic sheets of cloth. The bed was pushed up against one wall and the desk and dresser another. Two large bookcases occupied the stretch of wall between the balcony and bathroom doors. All in all, it felt very in-touch with Nadja's natural style.

"I like it," Beth told her with a grin. "Can I have you decorate my room?"

She laughed. "Can I see your room?" she asked.

Beth smiled. "I'm going shopping tomorrow with my mother and you just gave me some great ideas for style."

"I redecorated recently. I used to be with the whole pink and prim look that's normal for girls because my mom decorated it, you know? And we went all out with the pretty little princess look. But I wasn't feeling it, so I thought my space needed a makeover," Nadja told her.

"Tell me about it. My room in Scotland was pretty small, but I also had it real girly-like. Also my mum."

"I think our mom's should get together and cry about us growing up and finding our own style," she suggested jokingly.

"Oh, don't give my mother that opportunity," Beth sighed. She walked over to the bookcase, inspecting the titles. Nadja had a lot of books of needlework and plant identification, but also on herbs and meditation.

"Are you Wiccan?" Beth asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Uh, kind of," she replied, fidgeting. "I know some people think it's weird and all, but that's weird, you know? We know about demons, but practicing magic is strange? Hello, talk about stupid."

Beth smiled. "I'm cool with it. My aunt's a Wiccan. I'm used to it. You know any spells?"

She sighed. "No, I wish. I don't really have the skill for spells, unfortunately. I can make mixtures and stuff, but that's less magic and more so soothing herbs and healing crystals. You should see my grandfather though. He is wicked powerful."

Ah, let's introduce him to my aunt, Willow. She once tried to destroy the world because some psycho nerd-man killed her girlfriend. Yay, I'll bring the chips and dip.

"Really? Is it just him or your whole family?" Beth asked.

"My whole family's pretty in-touch with magic. It's the men who really practice though, which is so sexist, mind you. Just within the last two generations there have been many women in my family practicing, but it's still basically a boy's club. We have these biannual get-togethers with this like 'Spirit Circle' or whatever baloney name they call it, with a lot of chanting and energy-binding. It's boring if you're not involved though, but I like the fire. We make s'mores," she finished.

"Sounds cool," Beth responded. "My dad's got a strict ban on magic. He doesn't like me learning it. He thinks I'll kill someone, I think."

"A bit dramatic of him, huh?" she asked with a smile.

Not if you knew my teacher.

"Ah, you're a fan of classic rock," Beth noted when she skimmed through a few CDs on Nadja's bookcase. "You know they have online streaming, right?"

"Yeah, but I have a really old stereo so CDs for life," Nadja rebuked. She glanced down at her wristwatch, making a decisive frown. "It's past one so I think we can go bother my cousin now and make him chauffeur us. He gets his gas for free, so he can't complain."

"Alright. What's his name again?"

"Zackariah. We all call him Zack though, unless you're his mom and you're disappointed in him," she explained, closing the door to her bedroom behind them. "He lives a few streets over so it's a short walk. We'll cut through my backyard though."

Beth dutifully followed her back down the stairs and through the dining hall and kitchen. They passed Vera, who smiled at the girls while she chopped vegetables. Beth hoped that she would have the opportunity to use Nadja's family's kitchen. It was bigger than her own and full of lots of shiny equipment. Maybe she could convince Nadja to do an official Beth Bakes Day. If Spike liked them, then maybe Nadja's parents would too.

Out in the backyard, Nadja skirted around a large fire pit and walked past an in-ground Jacuzzi. She followed a stone path through a small garden before coming to the gate door at the end of her yard. "Ladies first," Nadja said, opening the gate and holding it for Beth.

On the other side of the fence was a dirt path that led down a hill to another street with more houses. A few rows over and Beth could see the lake through the trees. She wondered if Zack's family lived on the lake.

"Okay, try not to trip, this hill is pretty steep," Nadja warned. Beth was attentive to her footwork as the two made it down the hill through the high grass and rocky terrain. She nearly tripped over a jutting stone, but caught herself at the last moment. So much for being the daughter of a graceful slayer.

At the road, Nadja kept to the sidewalk, passing several streets, and looming closer to the lake.

"Does Zack and his family live on the water?" Beth finally asked.

"Yeah. They have a boat too."

Beth's eyes widened. She didn't know if Zack was even a person she wanted to associate with, but she wanted in.

They finally reached their destination in front of a bungalow-styled house with the square porch and triangular roof. It was a dark grey color with navy blue shutters. On the right was an open garage door from which loud, metallic banging noises came from and occasional swearing.

"He's in the garage," Nadja said with a wave of her hand. "Probably working on some boy's project."

Beth nodded, not that she understood what a "boy's project" was. She only ever had friends that were boys and the term was lost on her. What did that say about her? She couldn't even call it an "American thing." Both Mr. Wells and Jackie were American!

"Zack!" Nadja called out as they neared the garage. "Zack!"

Another swear before somebody stood up with his back to the girls. He turned around suddenly and his eyes widened.

"Ah, uh, hello," he said awkwardly, moving his hands about in a nervous fashion. Zack was a tall guy, maybe a few inches taller than Beth's own father. He was lean, though not very muscular with dark hair that stood up in gravity-defying strands. All in all, he looked like what Beth would dub a "Sophisticated Nerd." No doubt Mr. Wells would have griped that he wasn't dorky enough for the title. Zack was cute, in that awkward, I-Still-Can't-Decide-Where-To-Put-My-Hands kind of way.

"You are?" he asked, his question directed at Beth. Even though she was the only one he would ask that question, it took her a second to respond (silly Beth, he knows who Nadja is!), too busy caught up thinking about what Mr. Wells would be saying right about now.

"I told you," Nadja answered for her, dragging Zack's eyes away from Beth, though he looked regretful to do it. Great, did she look like a hoodlum? People had told that to her before. Teacher-people mainly, but still people. She was used to the gawking Zack was giving her though, but that didn't make her feel like she was under a microscope any less. "My friend was coming over to go to the movies with me? Yeah? You remember what your Beebee Vera told you?"

He frowned, stealing another look at Beth. "Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively at Nadja, who looked peeved, before turning his full attention to Beth again. "What's your name again?"

"Beth. I go by Beth." And she also wanted to tell him to take a picture, it'd last longer, but he was her ride and she didn't want to be rude. Oh wait, she wasn't a doormat.

Right before she could open her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of his incessant staring, he laughed. "Okay, really? You hang out with my cousin? You know she's lame right?" She realized this was an attempt at a joke, but she liked Nadja. More importantly, Nadja liked her. This was an unprecedented event. No girl ever liked Beth, not unless she was obligated due to real or purposefully-structured family relations. Or Spike was within earshot.

"Well, I'm pretty lame myself then," she responded with a shrug.

He grinned. No, that was exact opposite response she wanted, goddammit, was that boy stupid?

"Well, just let me change and then we can leave. Nadja, don't touch anything." And with those parting words, he was gone through the door, into his abode to find clothes and hopefully shower. The garage smelled like oil and gasoline.

"I don't think I like him," Beth admitted to Nadja.

"Why, because he's lame? Because he totally is. It's okay to say he is. I'd agree with you," she promised.

"He kept looking at me," Beth complained with a pout.

Nadja observed Beth without a word and it bothered her. Was there something she was missing? "Yeah, he was total gawker-boy. It's rude to stare. He should know that," Nadja finally agreed, though she had a weird tone to her voice.

"I won't have to see him often, will I?"

"Less than me, you lucky dog you. But sometimes. He's kind of the person who drives me to lots of places," Nadja told her regrettably.

"As long as he doesn't do the staring anymore," Beth decided.

"Unfortunately, no promises there. I'll talk to him though, and by talk, I mean taunt. Here, let's go wait by his car."

Zack came out the front door a few minutes later, car keys in hand. "You want to sit up front or back by your friend?" he asked Nadja.

"Like I'd want to sit next to you. You won't even let me pick the music," she griped, taking a seat beside Beth in the back. Wow, his car smelled like clean things. He father's car, despite everything, still smelled of stale alcohol and sometimes sex. She didn't mention that last part to him. But she knew. She always knew.

"So, you're new here, right? Nadja mentioned you came from England or something?" he asked as he started the car and pulled onto the road.

"Scotland," she corrected, looking out the window instead of at the rearview mirror where she'd meet his eyes.

"You're Scottish?"

"Does she sound Scottish to you, dilo?" Nadja snapped.

"Ooh, somebody's testy today," he snickered. "What? Can't a guy get you know your friend?"

Nadja grumbled something unintelligible.

"I'm not Scottish," Beth told him. "My parents worked there."

"Oh cool. So you're military then?"

"Not exactly."

"Her mom's the Slayer," Nadja told him, sounding smug despite the fact that it wasn't her mother.

"Wait, your mom's a slayer?" he repeated.

She nodded. "Yeah. Pretty tough too. She's the Slayer, actually. The one with the whole made all the baby slayers."

"Well hot damn," he whistled.

"And her dad's a demon hunter," Nadja added. Hey, leave the bragging to Beth thank you very much.

"You got one hell of a family there, don't you? Guess Bellevue's about to get a lot safer now. You know any karate moves?" he asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.

"I was taught alongside all the other potentials," she explained. "My dad also showed me some street moves and kickboxing. I'm pretty well-versed in all things fight-related."

"Okay, so if there's this kid I need to collect money from—?"

"She's not a for-hire mobster, Zack," Nadja cut in with a well-executed roll of her eyes. "She's not going to scare the cash out of Nick for you."

"It was a hypothetical question. I have morals. I would never deliberately cause pain to another individual, not even for monetary gain. So, about my question?"

Despite herself, Beth let out a small smile. For whatever reason that had made Zack stare at her, it didn't seem to be because he saw something different about her. Though she was beginning to think he thought of her as a hoodlum. He was asking her to beat people up, for goddesses' sake!

"'Slayers are taught to exercise their strength over vampires and other demons who are not protected under the law, thus outside of police persecution. Any person or persons believed to be engaging in supernatural or simply illegal activity are to be reported to the appropriate authority figure. A slayer is not to deal with the matter on her own,'" Beth recited.

"Eloquently put. A little wordy. A simple 'no' works too. You should tell the Council that. Save some money on ink."

"They're British. They wanted to sound stuffy and bossy," Nadja said with a slight groan.

"It's true," Beth agreed. "And the guy who runs the whole show really gives a new meaning to 'stick up his arse.'"

Beth looked over to see Zack smiling at her through the rearview mirror. She couldn't help but smile back. Okay, maybe she could like Zack, as long as he didn't engage in anymore one-sided staring contests. Didn't he know that was weird?