Disclaimer is in part one As usual I own nothing.

This and that.

"This is so not what I wanted for the rest of my life." Buffy walked into the office Xander was setting up for himself, and took a seat. Her eyes took in the battered gray metal desk, graffiti carved chairs, green metal filing cabinets and the Mac Plus that sat on top of it. "Not very high on the food chain are you?"

"Huh," Xander squeezed out from behind the filing cabinet. "Oh Buff, didn't see you come in, and what's this about a food chain?"

"Oh nothing," said Buffy, gloomily. "Just thinking that the Watcher's first pick is stuck in the basement."

"Well, I am the custodian, at least officially." Xander took a seat and swung hi feet on top of the desk. "Where would you expect the janitor to have his place, if not the basement."

"Well, I thought there would be more books, you know. The Watchers jam on books."

"Which is true. When have you ever seen Giles out of range of a book." Xander grinned. "Besides, Willow's got this terrific library thing going, with Giles avid help, so there's no need for me to have another. Also, I rather think a library won't figure much in my job description."

"Which is what? You haven't been very sharing on the details."

"Which would be because they never told me. Not really, so I was thinking of bringing it up at the next scooby meeting, which would be tonight." Xander paused and decided to change the subject. "When you came in, you said something about this not being what you wanted for your life."

"Hey, I thought you said you didn't see me come in."

"Which is true, but I did hear words. Muffled words but words. So spill, what was it you wanted for the rest of your life?"

"Buffy shrugged, "less slaying, less Council, more freedom."

"You did release all those Slayers. That's gotta help."

"Yeah, and handed them over to the Watchers. I hoped that I could at least free them from that."

"Some of them won't need Watchers, some of them will." With a thud, Xander's boots hit the floor, and he pulled a file out of a bottom drawer.

"Jasmine Fuller." Xander passed a glossy picture of a tallish girl with black ponytail and leather clothes, across the desk to Buffy. "Sixteen, ran with gangs most of her teen life. See, take have seems to be her motto, something she backed up with her fists." Xander looked at the dossier. "Jasmine had taken a fancy to a jacket a younger girl was wearing, and was negotiating the transfer when Willow did her thing with the mojo. Girl's still in the hospital. Fortunately, Jasmine was as shocked by what she did as was the witnesses and didn't struggle when the cops got there. Jasmine is in court today, facing some years in juvie, which she would go to if the Council hadn't sent in a lawyer to make a deal with the Judge and the D.A. Jasmine pleads not guilty, she faces trial, maybe as an adult which could mean serious jail time. She pleads guilty and the Judge is convinced of her remorse, she finishes her schooling here, gets tons of community service, and we get to guide her down the right path."

"So, we get the hard cases. The one with attitude."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Who better to help them? We've already been through the fire."

"I guess." Buffy got up and left, leaving Xander to whatever he was doing when she'd first entered. Which he was about to do when the phone rang.

"So, who's coming." Collen waited beside the front door of the red brick school building flanked by Caridad and Bridget. An approaching cloud of dust was rapidly approaching.

"Jasmine Fuller," said Xander. "Now, she's likely to be confused with an attitude, not necessarily a good thing. Be nice."

The assorted Slayers looked at Xander as if he'd grown a third head, and Buffy grinned from her position, leaning against a wall.

It wasn't long before a black and white police car baked to a halt, and a police officer, a man dressed in a trey suit emerged.

"Mr. Harris." Grey suit aproached the young man." "I'm Mr. Wellman, the lawyer. As you know, the deal was accepted and Jasmine is, er, in the car. But, before we can hand her over, so to speak, there are formalities and papers to sign."

Formalities and paper signing over, Mr. Wellman walked over to the car and opened the left rear seat door. Allowing a tall girl to get out.

"Your name, it is Jasmine?" Caridad was the first to address the new comer, after the black and white had driven off with the police officer, who really hadn't said very much of anything, and Mr. Wellman, a broad smile plastered on her face. "It is a beautiful name, I think."

"Then you can have it," Jasmine told her. She shouldered her past a now frowning Caridad, muttering. Caridad stood thinking.

Then moving fast she caught up to Jasmine and spun her around. "You call me a SPIT? That is not being very nice, I don't think."

Jasmine stared back with widened eyes. Then the eyes narrowed, and she broke Caridad's grip. "I called you a SPIC, girl. Now why don't you wander off somewhere. Don't talk to me until you've learned to speak English." Once again, Jasmine turned her back and started to move away.

This time she landed on her back, staring up at an annoyed Caridad, who clearly informed her that her back was not wet.

"Girls," shouted Buffy. She shot an annoyed look at Xander, before shouldering her way through the growing crowd of excited Slayers. "That's enough" She got in between the two.

"Did you not hear what she was saying to me," demanded Caridad.

"I heard and I'll deal with it." Buffy glared at the girls. "Find an elsewhere to be before I find one for you."

The girls scattered, leaving Buffy to help Jasmine to her feet.

"Get your stuff together," growled Buffy.