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I'm British, so's my spelling. Live with it.
By Marcus L. Rowland
IV
We piled into the Slayer's Jeep and drove out to Sunnydale High. It looked different to the school I remembered. Modernised, a lot more concrete, and a lot less attractive. Same evil Hellmouth feel to it though.
"So..." I ask, "what was wrong with the old school, that they had to knock it down and build this bunker instead."
"We kind of blew it up," says Xander. "Had to, to stop the Mayor ascending as a giant demon snake."
"And they rebuilt it on the same site? Were they crazy?"
"Go ask City Hall. My guess, the bastards thought it'd be cheaper than rebuilding the school from scratch. At least the Hellmouth isn't under the library any more."
"Where is it then?"
"Under Principal Wood's office," says the Slayer.
"And where are the trophies?"
"Just outside the office."
"Wonderful," I say, "how come you know your way around so well?"
"I work here as a student counsellor."
"So no trouble with you being here?"
"No... Willow, Dawn, if anyone asks I'm picking up a couple of case files, you've just tagged along with me because we're going to the Mall afterwards."
"Okay," says the girl. "Sid had better keep quiet though."
"No problem," I say. "I'll just dummy up." Everyone groans, it's the way I tell them. Xander finally finds the keys, switches off the alarm, and lets us in.
The place is quiet... too quiet. Feels like someone or something is deadening the sound. Could be magic, or the influence of the Hellmouth.
"You do your detailing," says the Slayer to Xander, "We'll check out the trophies."
"Okay. Shouldn't take me long, I'm just measuring up for some extra benches in the computer lab." He heads off one way, we go in the opposite direction.
"Here we are," says the Slayer a couple of minutes later. There are four cases, all of them crammed with trophies and a lot of them are statues. Finding the right one will be a bitch.
"Willow, do you and Dawn want to try this, I think you're better at this game than I am."
"Okay," says the redhead, and takes me in her arms. She has to be a mind-reader, because she immediately says "Look down my blouse again and it's matchstick time."
"Moi?" I say.
"Don't push your luck, short and flammable," says the Slayer. Dawn just giggles.
"Let's start with cases," says Willow. "Is it in this case?"
"Nope."
"This one?"
"Nope."
She keeps going, and soon we've ruled out all four cases.
"Okay, I'm obviously asking the wrong questions. Is it in the school?"
"Uh.. No."
"Was it once in the school?"
"Yes."
"I've got it," says Dawn, "Was it in the old school before it was destroyed?"
"Yes."
"Is there a trophy here that replaced the one that we're looking for?"
"Yes."
"Willow, can you narrow it down again?" asks the Slayer.
"Sure.."
We found the right one just as Xander got back:
"Is it the cheerleading trophy third from the right?"
"Yes, gorgeous, that's the one."
"Finally, thank the goddess. Xander, you hold him for a while, he's drooling on my arm."
"I don't have spit to drool, Red, but if I did I'd drool it for you."
"Some people just don't change," says Xander. "Which one did you say?"
Willow says "The cheerleading trophy."
"That one's new, you can see that the metal isn't worn from cleaning."
"We think it's the replacement for one that was damaged in the fire or the explosion. It's the original that we're going to have to find."
"Yeah... Hey, look at the list of winners on the side."
The Slayer finally takes an interest. "Mabel Clarke. Judith Wu. Catherine... oh crap. Catherine Madison. Amy's mom, the wicked witch of the West. Or is that the East?"
"I just remembered something about the original trophy," says Xander. "One time Oz and I were talking about cheerleaders, and I remember he said that there was this one trophy that had eyes that seemed to follow him around."
"We never did find out what happened to Catherine's soul..." says Willow, in a sort of hollow voice. "Sid, is it trapped inside the original trophy? Like you were trapped in the dummy?"
"Uh... yeah, it is."
"All we have to do now is find it," says Dawn, then pretends to act surprised when everyone glares at her.
To Be Continued