By all rights, a click at the front door like the one that occurred at 3 am that morning should have been enough to rouse any woman who had as much experience with life's little nasties as Buffy had, much less a slayer.  One can only assume that such a trying evening, topped off with Spike's little emotional outburst, was responsible for her sleeping right through it.  The world class snoring coming from the master bedroom was surely the work of mischievous poltergeists, not her, and certainly had nothing to do with it.  None the less, she didn't rouse until the screaming started.  Buffy grabbed her robe and rushed down the hall to discover the source (of all evil!!! Just kidding.) of the racket.

"Ok, no.  My boss is not standing in my guest bedroom about to assault a potential.  Not happening, nope."  Buffy had quite a bit of practice at lying to herself (see above, Spike) but it just wasn't going to cut it this time.  For her boss most definitely was standing in front of her, nursing a black eye she could only assume came from a hysterical Kennedy's fist.  First things first, "How the hell does somebody sneak in past fifteen of you!" Buffy exclaimed, directing her outburst at the girls who had assembled behind her in the time it took for her to process the most recent curveball life had decided to throw at her.  A distinct lack of response followed.  "And what the hell is going on?"

"Stalker."  Kennedy answered in a deceptively calm voice.  "I thought it was him earlier, but this is definitely the insane stalker that's been following me the past couple years.  Very insane.  So insane, in fact, that you should ignore everything he says and kick him out.  Immediately.  Or sooner, sooner works too."

"Now wait a second," Wood began, only to be interrupted by Buffy. 

"Stalker.  Right.  Ok, everybody back to bed now.  Not you, Spike.  Willow, you stay too.  Everybody else, bed, now.  Move."  The girls didn't look thrilled, (I mean, have you considered the gossip quotient of this event?  Potential slayers they might be, but they were still teenage girls.) but slowly lumbered off, clearly thrilled and eager to return to their oh so comfortable sleeping bags.  Buffy continued to bark out orders.  "Spike, do me a favor and scrounge up some hot chocolate, I think we're gonna be up a while.  Willow," she switched to a soft whisper, "you handle Kennedy; Principal Wood," she continued in her normal voice, "I know you're my boss and all, but since you just broke and entered into my house, I think I can skip the formalities and ask what the hell you're doing here."

It was good to know that she could still intimidate someone, as evidenced by Wood's uncomfortable squirming under her fierce, if somewhat sleepy, gaze.

"Well, you see," suddenly, he straightened up, "I am, fair lady, Robin Goodfellow, more likely known to your fair self as Puck, thanks to the ever imitable bard."  Buffy swung her head towards Willow with a distinct look of 'huh?'. 

"Um, think Hermes for the Celtic set."

"Ok, not really helping, Willow," a near exasperated Buffy hissed.

"Well, you know all the big European faery god types; Puck's like the messenger/prankster."

"Not another god," Buffy ground out; there was only so much one girl could take, and her last encounter with a god hadn't exactly ended well.

"Not a god, most certainly," Puck spoke up, "merely a simple player on the stage of Fey.  You see," and here he made himself comfortable on Kennedy's bed and settled into grand orator mode, "many years, around 18, ago, the Seelie court, in whose service this most humble being is, were in quite a tussle with the Unseelie court.  As the good Queen Titiana had just given birth to a lovely baby girl (and it should be noted that the rumors of the fair folk's difficulty conceiving is quite true; this was a near miraculous event), it was decided the child should be sent to earth, to keep her safe from certain unsavory types.  She was placed in the care of two of the kindest, gentlest, and richest folk you could imagine."

"What?" he looked wounded at the sight of arched eyebrows around the room, including Spike's, who had returned bearing the promised cocoa. 

"The High Court does have standards, you know.  Anyway, about two years ago, a tentative peace was declared, and I was sent to retrieve the wayward child.  I found her, and explained the situation, but the Princess ran off and I've been chasing her since.  And now," he finished grandly, "I have found her again and will be most happy to return her to the care of her royal parents, who have been fretting most dreadfully at her reluctance to come home."