Mutant Enemy Television, Inc. owns pretty much everything within the Angel/Buffy universe. My use is in no way meant to challenge any established copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned or any other copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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VI – Learning Life's Lessons

Janna had almost forgotten about her encounter in the woods until Jack Derry bumped into her in the hallway between classes. "Watch it," Janna groused as she pushed the football team's running back away from her. Jack was thrown off balance and bounced off the lockers, drawing the gaze of every student within twenty feet.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" he asked angrily, as if Janna had deliberately set out to embarrass him.

"Sorry," she muttered absently, setting her eyes on the floor and rushing off to the safety of Mrs. Herzog's trig class. Have to be more careful, she reminded herself. She was still getting used to her strength and far too often found herself doing something to attract undue attention. Even worse than the unwanted attention was the unpleasant reminder of what she was and what occupied her time once the sun went down. Her pace quickened as she raced toward the benign familiarity of the classroom.

Janna marveled at how happy she was in trig that morning, just relaxing in the reasonable certainty that math would forever remain a non-contact activity. Unless Slayer powers start including a built-in calculator, there's nothing that should happen in here that'll draw stares, she assured herselfAs Mrs. Herzog's voice dropped into its characteristic monotone drone, Janna allowed her mind to wander.

Predictably, the first topic that leapt to mind was the encounter in the woods. Two huge frickin wolves – or werewolves – and my Watcher guy can't even tell me what the hell they are. Like how hard could that be, anyway? Seems to me I was never seein' stuff like vampires and werewolves or whatnot before 'being called,' so it can't be like there're demons hiding in every shadow. So how come is it that this supposed expert can't even decide whether this is some kind of cursed wolf, or true wolf, or whatever it was he was talking about?

Her doubts about Xander's ability brought another thought to mind – Graham. Now he's the one who should be watchin' me, Janna decided. While Xander's instruction was often bogged down in dry academic theory and rote memorization of trivial facts, Graham offered her the chance to let loose and hit stuff, to really enjoy the perks of the job, so to speak. It hadn't taken Janna long to realize that while any two-bit clown with an above-average I.Q. could learn all he needed to about the occult, only a Slayer could work over one of the baddies that Xander spent so much time teaching her about. Unfortunately, that conclusion had led to a great deal of friction between her and her Watcher.

The routine was always the same – he explained that she should learn everything she could so that she would be prepared. Then she asked why that was even an issue since, after all, she had him for the book learning. As she sat in class she started to replay the most recent episode of the ongoing debate.

"You don't take your instruction seriously enough," Xander said in his ever so patient voice. It was his voice that really set her off more than anything else. If only he would just yell at me the way he wants to, that would be okay. But instead he just stands there all patient and Obi-wan-ish. It's sorta irritating.

"You don't take the combat training seriously enough," Janna retorted. "What good is it to know fifty ways to kill a Gabashar demon if I don't have the strength to punch through its scales?"

"Gabashars don't have scales," Xander countered, still calm. "They have thick fur and a habit of spitting venom in the eyes of attackers. If you didn't know that, you'd end up blind. Speaking as someone who's already half-way there, let me assure you that blindness is a handicap that cannot easily be overcome by physical training."

"Okay, forget the Gabashar," Janna had quickly said, hoping to undue the damage she had done to her own cause when she'd thrown out the name of a demon she knew nothing about; her own argument had provided Xander with all the ammunition he'd needed for his response. "What if it was a chameloid?"

"A chameloid was the shape-shifting alien that broke Kirk and McCoy out of the Klingon penal colony of Rura Penthe in Star Trek VI," Xander muttered wearily. "I'm sure you mean a chamolind. We read about them just two nights ago, and if you can tell me how a chamolind demon killed a Slayer in 1732, I'll let you train with Graham for the rest of the night." Then Xander's ever-so-patient expression melted away into a cocky, one-eyed grin that made Janna want to hit him.

"In 1732?" Janna asked, almost furiously. "You've got to be kidding. What kind of question is that?"

"Think of it as Final Jeopardy," Xander said, his smile becoming more amused with every passing second. "Get it right, and you get to come back tomorrow... but enjoy doing whatever you like as our reigning champion today."

"Fine," Janna growled. She thought back to their studies two nights earlier, trying to remember anything about a Slayer being killed. She remembered something about one being crushed in the coils of a naga, but she was certain that a naga and a chamolind were not the same thing. She decided to try a different strategy – recalling what a chamolind looked like. If I can remember what they look like, I'll probably give myself a huge clue as to how one killed a Slayer. She had just about brought the picture into her head when Xander broke her concentration by humming the Jeopardy tune. "Do you mind?" Janna groused. "I'm trying to think here."

"Try saying that next time you get into a scrap with a Sinthar demon and you're trying to remember whether knocking it into a pool will melt it or cause it to temporarily double its strength," Xander responded. "I'm sure it'll back off long enough for you to compose your thoughts."

"I got it," Janna said confidently, remembering seeing a picture of a scorpion-like demon in one of the books. "The chamolind poisoned the Slayer."

"Ah, you remember the picture with the tail," he said with a nod.

"Yup."

"But you apparently didn't read the caption, did you?"

"Huh?" A sinking feeling hit Janna's gut just then.

"In the third – and longest – of the chamolind's seven growth stages, the demon has a tail that generates electricity; it's pretty similar to an electric eel, actually," Xander muttered. "Except, of course, that it can generate far more current. A chamolind can arc electric bolts up to three meters long from its tail. If you fought a chamolind and kept clear of the "poisonous tail," you'd probably end up getting fried, instead. Just like the unfortunate Slayer in 1732. Now would you prefer starting with anatomy of demons in the tesseract family, or should we maybe cover basic incantations?"

"You need a hobby," Janna grumbled.

"I already have one," Xander said with a satisfied smile. "I collect comics."

"Color me shocked," Janna muttered. "I think maybe we should get you a girlfriend." Something in Xander's face dropped at her words, and Janna was amazed to find how guilty she felt. "Let's just start with incantations," she said quickly, hoping to avoid any further awkwardness. She had filed that little tidbit away, though, for future reference.

When the bell knocked her out of her reverie, she found herself amazed that she really couldn't remember a word of what Mrs. Herzog had said. She stopped off quickly at her locker to trade her trig book for her copy of Hamlet, and plodded off to English class, hoping that Mr. Simmons would spare her the humiliation of being called on again. He had already made her feel terrible about not knowing why it was such a big deal to Hamlet that he shouldn't kill the king while he was praying; Janna could just imagine what kind of questions she might be asked about the conversation between Polonius and Laertes, or whatever it was that they were supposed to have read the night before.

"So guess what?" Simone asked as she came up behind Janna, almost startling her enough to scream.

"Enough with the sneaking up on me," Janna griped before answering.

"Fine, but guess what?"

"What?" Janna finally asked. She knew it was her supremely uninterested tone that caused Simone's face to drop slightly. If there was one thing Simone loved more than anything else, it was finding out something before anyone else did. Janna loved her friend to death but had always found that one character trait more than slightly annoying.

"Someone's got the major hots for ya," Simone gushed.

"Oh yeah?" Janna answered, trying to make herself sound interested. She figured it was the least she could do – she owed her friend that much. "Who is it?"

"Dave Riordan."

"And that's supposed to interest me?" Janna replied. If she were to devote all of her time and energy to ranking every single guy in the school, she doubted Dave Riordan would even make the top twenty. While most girls were more than willing to admit he was probably one of the hottest guys ever to walk the streets of their town, he had enough baggage to sink a cruise ship. First of all, he was poor. Janna hated to think of herself as materialistic or snobbish, but she also couldn't bring herself to be thrilled about the prospect of going out with a guy who lived in a thirty-year-old trailer in the middle of the woods. Not to mention the fact that his mother was the walking epitome of the alcoholic, small-town slut, though maybe that wouldn't have happened if Dave's father hadn't been killed by the mob ten years earlier because he had a habit of gambling and not paying his debts. Then, of course, Dave's older brother just happened to be the All-American perfect guy... until he decided one night that he should try drinking like his mother and then enjoy the thrill of driving the back-roads without using his headlights. Dave's uncle – the sheriff – had tried to cover up that most recent family scandal; but if there was one thing small towns were good at, it was using the rumor mill to get right to the heart of any interesting story.

"So you're not interested?"

"Somebody's just got their wires crossed or something," Janna muttered, finally stopping to turn toward her friend. "When was the last time Dave did anything social? I mean anything? He's a total recluse... even the other weirdo recluses in the school don't have any interest in him. Besides, I've never even talked to the guy. Dave being interested in anyone – especially me – is just about as farfetched an idea as I've ever heard." Janna took a moment to make sure Simone was still listening – she had a habit of shutting out just about everything as she watched guys in the halls – and continued only when she found her friend's eyes still gazing in her general direction. "You know what? This reminds me of the time Keith Carter convinced you that there really is a Great Pumpkin, just because there's a cartoon about it."

"Well, he was pretty convincing," Simone countered. "I mean, look at the whole thing with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. There're cartoons about them, too. How can you blame me for believing it?"

"It's not exactly like Santa and the Easter Bunny are real, either, just because there are cartoons about them," Janna pointed out. "And besides, this was just last year."

"Oh, sure... use the whole 'being old enough to know better' argument. Don't forget I was a bit drunk at the time."

"Granted."

"Anyway, what if it's true? About Dave, I mean... not the whole Great Pumpkin thing."

"Not interested," Janna said flatly.

"He's cute."

"Then why don't you go out with him?"

"I'm not the one he was asking about."

"I've got enough going on right now," Janna commented, deciding then and there that she wouldn't get involved with anyone until she got the whole being a slayer thing under control. "I don't think it would be a good idea."

"It's a great idea," Simone countered. "And if you're worried about people talking, don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but after that party where you went a little nuts, and now with you working at that magic shop and pretty much getting all lone-wolf on your friends lately... well, I think most people wouldn't find you and Dave too surprising and all. I mean, sure, Dave's weird... but nowadays, so are you."

"That's a comfort," Janna grumbled as she walked into English. She was struck speechless by the realization that, once again, she found the safety and familiarity of the classroom to be a welcome relief.

To be continued…………………………………………