Joyce was up early, but when she came into the kitchen she was surprised to find her daughter up and making breakfast already.
"Hi honey. You're an early bird today...?"
"You know me," Buffy tried (and failed) for cheeriness, "anything to catch a worm... uh, not a real one of course." She'd slept for 12 hours, but hardly looked like she'd gotten any rest.
"Buffy... you know, you don't have to go to school today. I've taken the day off, you can phone in sick if you just want to stay home and talk."
"I appreciate it, Mom, but I'm OK, really, I just want to get back into the swing of things again."
"Then at least let me make you some real breakfast. You don't have to leave for another hour."
And this is where Buffy slipped. "I can't, I have to meet with Principal Snyder before classes start."
Her mother immediately stiffened up and grew concerned, with an upgrade to 'upset' lurking around the corner. "Buffy, please tell me you're not in trouble with the school again. We've had to move once already, I really don't think I could –"
"No, Mom. No. Absolutely not. Please, just trust me. It's... you know what Snyder's like. He's going to yell at me for skipping last period yesterday and that'll be it. I promise."
Buffy hadn't really had time to do her hair this morning, just tied it back, and one strand hung across her face. Joyce reached out and pushed it behind her ear, sighing sadly. "You're growing up so fast, Buffy... just promise me you won't do it too fast, OK? You know you can tell me anything."
Buffy nodded, knowing she really couldn't.
Buffy was right on time for her meeting with Principal Snyder, but she still had to wait outside for half an hour before his secretary sent her in – time well spent staring into the gray wall of the Principal's office and mulling over the past two days. When she was allowed to go in, his office was crowded; besides Snyder himself, Buffy also found herself being regarded – much like a curious animal in a cage – by a well-dressed but wrinkle-faced man in his late 50s and a muscular younger man with piercing eyes whom she, under other circumstances, might have found good-looking. Snyder didn't introduce them right away, just pointed to the chair in front of his desk. She sat down.
"Now, Summers, I appreciate that the last two days have been hard on you and I'm prepared to cut you some slack. But in the future, I will not tolerate tardiness."
"Tardiness? I wasn't late, I've been here for –"
"And don't change the subject." He leaned back. "Now, here's what's going to happen. Since your training so far has obviously been inadequate, you'll be spending the next few weeks getting proper guidance. Obviously, this is going to take up a lot of your time."
"What about classes?"
"I'm sure you'll find some time for those too. If you don't, let's just say that in my school non-attendance – for the right purpose – can be overlooked. As long as you do your duty as a Slayer, I'll see to it that you get a passing grade in every subject. Judging from your previous academic record, that's more than you deserve." The older man in the black suit cleared his throat, and Snyder fidgeted in his chair. "Right then. I suppose it's time you meet your new trainers. You'll be expected to do as they say at all times – of course, they'll be taking their orders from me, as will you. This," he pointed to Suit Guy, "is Rutherford Sirk, who will be tutoring you in history, mythology, magic and all those things. And Jeremiah here," he indicated the younger man, "will work on your physical abilities. We will help you do what you want done, Summers: we will help you stop Angelus. But on our conditions. This isn't a game. Do you understand?"
As if he needed to point that out. "Yes."
"Then here's the final condition – for now. I would strongly suggest that you stop this nonsense of including your friends in your mission. I'm sure you'll agree with me that the only thing that's doing is putting them in unnecessary danger."
"But-"
"No buts. We are here to help you, Summers. Not them. Enough people at this school have died because they got to close to you, don't you think? You can't look after them while you're fighting, and I would really like for you to keep them out – otherwise I will. And that includes not telling them about our arrangement. Are we clear?"
Buffy was ashamed of herself when she agreed, but she knew he was right. This was going to get dirty, and it was her fight. Not the others'. As soon as she had put Angel down, she'd make it up to them.
After first period, the scoobies reconvened in the rec area – minus Buffy, who was still a no-show. Oz had taken advantage of his senior privileges to take a quick run downtown and see that Joyce's gallery was closed, and the mood was pretty subdued.
"So," Willow tried, "I guess her and Mrs Summers have taken a mother/daughter day. That's gotta be good... right? I mean, she probably really needs to talk to someone... someone who cares about her..." Oz stroked her hair, and got a smile for it.
"She just needs to have a good cry, and she'll be here tomorrow bright and early." Xander, of course, was Solution Guy. "In the meantime, what was it we said yesterday about patrolling? If Buffy is out, we should at least do a sweep. The four of us can handle a vamp or two. And if we run into Angel... we'll make Giles proud. OK?" Everyone nodded. "Right. Sundown at the cemetary, then. Bring any weapons you're comfortable with."
As everyone walked back to their lockers, Oz took Willow aside. "She's not cutting us off, Will. You know that, right? She needs time."
"Yeah." Willow put on her brave face. "I just wish I could see her... she must be hurting."
In a training room in the back of the school gym, Buffy was hurting, though not necessarily in the way Willow imagined. Battle training with Jeremiah turned out to be completely different to training with Giles. He'd said he wanted to start out by testing her fighting abilities, but this wasn't a polite exercise against someone three times her age; this was an all-out battle, fists and kicks all over the place. With Giles, she'd always held back, but Jeremiah went all out and they were almost evenly matched. What he lacked in strength, he made up for in agility and martial arts, and for every hit she landed she got one in return. It felt... good. Getting to beat someone up, taking a few punches herself – hard, physical, sweaty, painful. Every muscle in her body was working and it felt more real than anything of the past few days. She just wished he'd stop talking... even if it did make it easier to hit him.
"So, Buffy, you've got Angelus against the wall. What do you do?"
She dropped down faster than the human eye could follow, swept his legs and slammed her fist into his chest. If she had had a stake in her hand that would have been the end of him, vampire or not. He laughed and tossed her off him, getting to his feet in one movement.
"Good! That's good, Buffy! Except that's not what you did, is it? What did you do?"
They faced off again, Buffy jumping around him trying to find a weak spot. She found it, slipped in and easily ducking his attempt to grab her, she threw him halfway across the room. When he got back up, she got him with a karate chop right over the neck – pulling back at the last fraction of a second so she didn't kill him, just grazed him. She could have taken his head off. A vampire would have been dust. And again, that laugh.
"Perfect! But you didn't do that. I said," he faked a left and threw a right that caught her in the jaw, "what did you DO? Angelus had already killed, he killed again, he's killing as we speak! He killed your watcher, Buffy, WHAT did YOU do to stop him?"
Alright, you asked for it. Furious, Buffy put all her strength into one mighty kick against his groin. Jeremiah sidestepped her with almost inhuman speed, caught her foot and used her own momentum to flip her flat on her back. She gasped in pain as she pulled a muscle in her calf.
"You let your emotions guide you." He aimed a kick at her, and she barely managed to get out of the way. "You went for the hurt, not the kill." His fist caught her in the shoulder as she jumped to her feet, she got all her weight on the injured leg and cried out. "You acted like a schoolgirl," he kicked her legs out from under her, "getting revenge on her cheating boyfriend!" He flipped her over, twisting her arms behind her back. "Guess what, Buffy? You're not a schoolgirl, and Angelus didn't just invite the wrong girl to the prom. You're the Slayer. You need to be the Slayer every day," he twisted her arms even further, the pain shooting through her, "every hour, every fucking SECOND if you're going to beat him. Are you ready for that?" He shifted, trying to get a better grip, and she slammed the back of her head into his face. Getting up, she kicked him in the chest, sending him flying. He looked up at her, wiped the blood from his nose and grinned.
"Whaddyaknow. You got potential, kid. We just might make a Slayer of you yet." He got up, obviously in some pain but still smiling. "I think that's enough for one day – Sirk will want you for a couple of hours, and that Slayer healing should have you in shape by tonight. Hit the showers."
Willow walked into the computer room, turning to face the class and the empty seat where her best friend should have been. "Hi. Principal Snyder asked me to fill in for Ms Calendar... until the new computer science teacher arrives. So I'm just gonna stick to the lesson plan she left."
Working with Rutherford Sirk was almost as painful as the morning's training had been, except not physically. At first his neat appearance and English accent had seemed almost comforting, as if he were Giles' older brother or something, but that had gone away the first time he answered her in a sarcastic tone that let her know exactly what he thought of her. For much of the afternoon, she sat parked at the big table in the library as he went over Giles' books and notes, mostly muttering to himself and shaking his head at things he read. Any question from her was met with an icy glare that made her feel like an insect. Occasionally he'd toss out a quick question about some demon she'd never heard of, and roll his eyes when she failed to give the correct answer. Eventually, he started lecturing in a dry, matter-of-factly hostile tone. Four hours later she walked out knowing everything about Angelus, every monstrosity, every perversity, everything Giles had not wanted her to know. She felt grateful; it made it easier, and she was sure she would never have figured it out by herself.
"OK. The important thing is not to panic. I think." Xander tried to sound sure of what he was saying.
"You sure?" Cordelia looked at him. "Because from where I'm standing, panic is looking like a pretty good plan."
The gang had gotten as far as the first cemetary, where they found themselves surrounded by half a dozen vamps and backed into a corner by the fence. Xander and Oz were holding out crosses, but the vampires were closing in and there wasn't anywhere to run. Willow was frantically trying to load a crossbow that was obviously designed for someone much stronger. Things were not looking good. One of the vamps stepped forward, signalling the others to attack – only to turn into a cloud of dust as a stake rammed into him from behind. Within seconds, two of the others followed suit; the rest fled, leaving the gang to stare at the Slayer who stood panting before them.
"Geez, Buff, it's good to see you! We thought you were -"
Xander's greeting was abruptly cut off, and any thoughts of hugs and thanks were quickly forgotten as they saw the cold fury in her eyes. "What the HELL are you guys doing here? Are you trying to get yourselves killed? You couldn't even handle these guys, what if Angel had showed up?"
Willow tried to explain. "We just thought..."
"You thought what? That you could take Angel on?"
"That we might help you. That's what we do, remember? We miss Giles too, but..."
"And it would be a great help for me to have four more funerals to go to this week!", Buffy snapped. Then she calmed down a little, but still kept her distance. "Look, I promise you, I am going to get him for what he did to Giles. But until I do, I need you to stay out of this. It's way too dangerous. Angel isn't going to stop at anything to hurt me, and he knows how much you guys... I can't lose you too! Do you GET that? Go HOME." Buffy turned and walked off, leaving her friends to stare in disbelief after her.
Xander looked to Cordelia. "Right. Panic it is."