A/N: I haven't done this yet, so this is a thank you to everyone who's reviewed this story. Special thanks goes to McKay1 who's reviewed almost every chapter. It's noticed and appreciated!

Dear Quint,

I'm still in London, and it's a great city, but it's not all I thought it would be. I haven't even seen a ballet yet (or been invited to audition for one). I'm working really hard, though. I can't tell you any details now, but hopefully I'll be able to someday.

Your friend,

Jessi

I knew my postcard to my sort-of-boyfriend Quint sounded pretty lukewarm, but I was too depressed to summon up much enthusiasm. I had been training as a Slayer for almost a week now, and I still hadn't gotten any Slayer powers. Nor had anyone observed me training and noticed how talented I was.

I was keeping up with my barre practice, just in case the Slayer thing didn't work out, but nobody had seen me at that and invited me to a London audition, either. Worst of all, the stupid exchange rate meant I didn't even have enough money with me to go see a ballet at Covent Gardens. (I even got desperate enough to try to borrow some from Claudia, but apparently she was getting paid in some kind of weird gold coins that the ticket agencies don't take).

This was not how my vacations were supposed to work.

I'm nothing if not dedicated (you can ask my dance teacher about that), so even though I was depressed about my lack of progress, I refused to give up. I knew from all those fantasy novels Mallory and I read that it's usually when you're most discouraged that the fairy godmother shows up to grant your wish. I don't think there was anyone more in need of a fairy godmother than me those days.

I kept my training a secret from the BSC. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about being a Slayer; discretion is usually part of what's being tested in situations like these. Besides, the other girls were so wrapped up in their own projects, that it wasn't very difficult. Nobody batted an eye when I told them each morning that I was off to find Mallory. Well, Kristy did, but it was less batting an eye than it was rolling both eyes and lecturing me about my responsibilities. That's pretty much reflexive for her, though, so I didn't pay much attention.

After our first couple of days at the Academy, I fell into a routine. I started each morning with my ballet practice – it kept me flexible and limber. Besides, I could do that in Angel's apartment and nobody would be surprised if they caught me at it. When Kristy got up, I trained with her. She was always doing something to stay in shape for the Krusher's and that junior slayer squad she had founded. Why she needed to stay in shape to work out with three year olds was beyond me, but I've found with Kristy it's usually better not to ask.

By the time Kristy and I had finished our workout, Angel had finished making breakfast. He made breakfast every morning. He seemed to think it was part of providing for us properly. Honestly, I thought it was a little strange, especially since he never ate any of it. Hello, we're thirteen (well, except for me) and dibbly responsibly baby-sitters . We can grab a bowl of cereal by ourselves.

I shouldn't complain as it was actually very sweet of him, but the meals were pretty awkward. Probably because I was so focused on my Slayer training, thirty minutes every morning of listening to Mary Anne and Kristy and Claudia chatter on about their own projects was just painful, especially since I couldn't mention mine, and double especially since theirs were going so much better than mine.

Especially Claudia. Was I the only one who had noticed that she was selling her fashion designs to evil demons? Weren't we supposed to be on the other side? Sheesh. You wouldn't think you'd have to be a Slayer to work that one out.

Anyway, after breakfast I snuck off to a quiet practice room where I had hidden the weapons I borrowed from Angel. Kristy and I had found his storage closet while he was out one evening, and I had come back later that night when everyone was asleep to borrow a sword, a dagger, a crossbow, and a quarterstaff. He had so many, I was sure he wouldn't notice, and besides, I'm sure he'd think it was Kristy anyway. (She claims she's training her kids with Nerf weapons, but we all have our doubts).

I spent the rest of the morning running drills I from the books I'd borrowed from the library (really late at night to make sure Mary Anne wouldn't see me), and I usually spent the afternoon reading up on demons and magic. Just so I have a well-rounded Slayer education. Actually, I'm really good at demonic languages – I suppose that's not surprising, since I'm good at human languages too.

I stuck to my routine for a week, and even though it was dull, I refused to give up hope. I was getting a bit better with the crossbow after all.

On our seventh day in London, however, everything broke down. I was working through a staff routine I had found in an old book, and I was doing pretty well, if I do say so myself. Maybe I didn't have the power of a Slayer, but my dancer's training helped me remember the moves and execute them gracefully. I watched myself in the mirrored walls as I worked, making small corrections to the position of my feet and arms.

I was deep into the exercise when the sounds of giggling coming from outside the room disturbed my concentration.

"We can't use the library, Kerry," said a cheerful, girlish voice. "The Watchers are always clustered in there for a conference."

"Well, what about an empty practice room? Nobody ever uses that one on the end," another girl answered.

The one on the end was mine, and the girl was right; nobody else had come in since I started using it. I decided I'd play this one straight – there were too many Slayers here to know every one on sight. They'd come in, see I was practicing, and go find another room without disturbing me. At least, I hoped.

The giggling drew closer. I concentrated very hard on my staff exercises, pretending I didn't notice, and I kept going even when I heard the door open behind me.

"Jessi?" asked an astonished voice behind me. I spun around, and there, in the center of a crowd of seven girls, was Mallory.

And she was wearing leather pants.

Mallory stared at me for a moment, and then her face relaxed. "Oh, you're doing some sort of dance thing, aren't you? No problem, there are other rooms." The other girls nodded, and then headed out the door. Mallory turned to follow them.

"Wait!" I shouted after her. Who was this girl? "How're things going? How's training? How're the other Slayers?"

"Oh, they great," she said casually, "just wriggle." Wriggle? Why would Mallory be using a stupid word like that?

"Well, do you want to hang out? Maybe we could spar. I'm practicing the quarterstaff." I knew I shouldn't have said that. It was violating the secrecy ban. But all of a sudden, I was desperate to find some way to belong in Mallory's world. She looked so adult and so distant (like "far away", not "chilly"). For the first time ever, I felt like the immature one.

"Wait, you mean that wasn't a dance move?" she asked, laughing. "But Jessi, you're not a Slayer. I'd demolish you. Anyway, the girls and I, we're the Super Slayers Club, and we have a Top Secret Meeting," she giggled and covered her mouth, "Oops, I shouldn't even have told you about it."

I couldn't take it anymore. The last week of constant practice and stress and worry. I was working so hard, and Mallory had new friends and a little clubhouse. I just snapped.

"How dare you!" I shouted, "You come in here with your new clothes and your new friends, and you think you're better than me? You think I can't do you in any day of the week at anything I choose? You think it shouldn't be me standing there in your place?" I ran out of breath and things to say and stopped abruptly, panting. I'm not used to this; usually in the BSC we leave the screaming to Kristy and Dawn.

I was expecting Mallory to yell back, to tell me I had no right to underestimate her and that I was arrogant and mean and a horrible friend. I deserved it, I thought.

But instead she just looked at me, and then rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine." She picked up a smaller staff from the corner of the room that I had used in my earlier practices. "Just to the first fall, though. I really am late."

Her casual tone just gave me an inexplicable urge to slap her. Instead, I lunged at her, trying to figure out how I could apply those drills to a real fight. Mallory held back, looking bored.

I lunged again, and she spun around, so she was facing away from me, and then flipped backwards, over my head, and landed behind me.

Before I had time to react, she had hit me from behind, just hard enough to knock me over and send my staff skittering across the floor. I sat there, too stunned to move.

"Really, Jessi," Mallory said with another eye roll, "you're a good dancer and you're good at, you know, sign language and stuff. Really, there's no need to try your hand at Slaying, too."

She walked past me, towards the exit. Right before she reached the door, she turned and added, "Listen, I'm pretty busy right now, but we really should hang out next week or something. I'll get your number from B." Before I could respond (not that I had any response to make), she was out the door.

I had never been so humiliated in my life. Stupid girl, I thought, too caught up in your fantasies of being a Slayer to pay attention to the fight she had already shown you. Convinced that you were the one with the destiny.

I felt tears run down my cheek, and I wiped them away. I never cried.

But this was different; it was like my purpose had been stripped away. Like I would have felt if, a few months ago, somebody has told me I could never dance again.

I wondered if there was something I could do, some way to prove to Mallory and everyone else, that I still mattered. I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes, stored my weapons in the room's little closet, and headed for the library. It was time to go see Mary Anne.