Yay! Storyness. Goodie. I'm sure everyone of you reading this was just waiting with bated breath for me to update [she typed sarcastically]. I'm not even sure anyone's reading this at all. Except for the seven people who cared enough to review. Or were bored enough, don't know which. But one's a friend, so that doesn't really count (not that I don't appreciate it, DM. Just, you know, strangers better). Anyway, don't own people, slavery wrong, blah blah blah. I don't even think there's any rude language in this chapter, so it's sort of like G or something. Not even any of that thinly~veiled innuendo so common in B/S. [She typed smugly].
~Star Mouse
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"So. A Slayer died today, as per prophesy, and of all the millions of young people of the female sort, all over the world, the one that gets called happens to also be the bringer of said prophesy, who happened to be in this very building." Xander said, leaning back. Sometimes the Scooby club explanations got so rambling and jumbled he felt the need to summarize. Sort of like verbal cliffnotes, for those of you not paying attention. It was, like, a public service, or something.
Nods all round. Okay, so maybe *he* was the only one who had trouble keeping up, then.
It was a while later. The sky was going dark, or at least a little pink around the edges. Dawn had arrived, and had been promptly sent out for donuts and pizza. Xander was just glad he had finally graduated from Donut Guy status.
"I hate to celebrate, but hey," he said, sitting back up, "Gotta be feeling good about the not~deadness of Buffy."
Said Slayer nodded. The other Slayer was pretending to read a book, while actually watching Spike from under her lashes.
"Yeah," Buffy replied. "I know what you mean. I mean, I'm glad I'm not dead, but at the same time I have this feeling, like I'm thumbing my nose and saying 'Better you than me.'" She made a little wrinkly~nose face. "It's ooky."
And that about summed it up. The group gathered around the table shared an awkward moment of silent mourning for the hero they had never met; a soldier lost in the line of duty. It was broken when Giles walked over.
"Well, it's confirmed. I finally got through to someone who knew something. They wouldn't tell me anything earlier, but since these ...unfortunate events... came to pass, they have semi~elevated me to the 'Need to Know' list. Damn idiots," he added, glowering at his former co~workers.
He looked up, and coughed. "Um, sorry. A few hard feelings on that front, I'm afraid. Anyway."
He sat down at the table, in the empty chair next to the one Spike was ...occupying. Sitting was too strong a word, he felt. More like sprawled in. Edging away from the slouching vampire, he continued.
"I got back on the line with Thomas Ingle. He admitted the existence of the other two Slayers. And one, a Pujha Pari, in Bangladesh, was indeed called in as deceased by her Watcher earlier today."
Giles paused for a moment, privately mourning the loss of a warrior, simultaneously rejoicing that she was not his to mourn. He shifted and cleared his throat. "Apparently, she defied the council, sort of similarly to the way you did, Buffy. That would explain the prophecy's wording."
Buffy nodded. "So I'm not lined up to die just yet. That's a good, I guess."
Willow nodded emphatically. "Yes! Very *definitely* of the good."
Spike rolled his head round on the seat back, to face Giles. "So is there actually anything to research, then?"
Giles shrugged. "It seems that most of our questions on that front have been answered. However, we still need to figure out what to do about you."
There was silence, and then Birdy jumped, when she realized that everyone was looking at her. "Heh. Talking about me. Okay. Um, what *do* you plan to do with me, exactly?"
Buffy didn't hesitate. "You're staying at my house. That way we can train you up, and you can pitch in around the hellmouth. It'll be fun."
Birdy's eyes darted back and forth. What was with these people? She was a total stranger, and they were totally taking her into their confidence. She was starting to see why the blonde Slayer had died three times.
Giles cleared his throat. "Um, Buffy..." He glanced at Birdy, who offered up a weak smile. "No offence, you understand, but we really have no basis on which to trust you." He turned back to Buffy. "I can't say I really recommend opening your home to her like this. Not until we know more."
Buffy shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous, Giles. She's a Slayer. Judged virtuous or whatever by the PTB, or something like that. She wouldn't try to do anything bad to us."
"*Coughcough*Faith*Cough*"
Buffy turned to glare at Xander. He looked up innocently. "Oh, sorry."
"We're not discussing this. Birdy stays at my house. End of conversation." Buffy gave a sharp nod of her head. She pretended to miss the way Spike rolled his eyes, even though she felt a jab of nearly physical pain at the silent insult.
Willow looked at Birdy, then Buffy. "Um, okay. But she's kind of sitting right here, you know. With us. Have you even asked her if she wants to?"
Buffy's stance faltered. "Oh. Right. Sort of skipped that part." She turned her brightly smiling countenance on Birdy. "Wanna stay at my place indefinitely, while you figure out the Chosen One thing?"
Birdy had to smile. This was...nice. "Yeah. That sounds good. And, for what it's worth, Mr. Giles, I'm not going to kill anyone."
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"I'm gonna *kill* you!!"
Dawn bounded down the stairs. When she got to the fifth from the bottom, she vaulted the rail, cutting the corner into the dining room. "Gotta catch me first, you sick fiend!" she called. She sidestepped around the table and skidded into the kitchen. Around the counter, at the door--
She stopped short. Due to the hand clenched around her shirt collar. Birdy leaned in close, scowling menacingly. She thrust a hand, palm up, in front of Dawn's face.
"Give."
Dawn sighed, and relinquished the lip gloss. Birdy clenched her fist around it, and then let go of Dawn's collar and patted her head.
"Good Dawn."
Dawn ducked out of the contact. "You're getting good at the Slayer thing, you know. The stealth... The speed... The mean-big-sister~yness."
Birdy smiled. Dawn smiled back. Birdy really was pretty. The Scoobies had gotten used to the scars, now, so that the horrible reminders of a past they didn't know kind of blended into the background.
"Well, what can I say?" asked Birdy, twirling the gloss. "It's been a month. I've got to be learning *something* by now."
"Oh, you totally are!" Dawn assured her, hearing the undertone of self~frustration. "You're, like, as good as Buffy now, with the fighting. Really."
"I had considerable training in the martial arts when I was younger. Your sister had to learn from scratch. I'm just building on what I already knew."
"Whatever. It's good for you guys to have each other to spar with. She doesn't really have anyone else around here to train with. We're all with the not~Slayer strength."
"Spike--"
"Egh," Dawn cut her off quickly. "Not a good idea. Don't get me wrong; I *love* Spike. Kiddie crush and best Big Brother figure ever. Only slightly in the "1984" sense, 'cause he stalked Buffy for a while- neeever mind." At Birdy's knit~brow confusion, she hurried on. "But things are kind of awkward between those two. They have a history, sort of, and... I dunno, I just get the feeling that if they tried to spar, the doors would open on one fresh corpse and a pile of dust."
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If my pathetic plea wasn't enough for you to figure out that I really want reviews, well, I'm not sure I *want* YOUR reviews... [She typed, worriedly].
~Star Mouse