Jerrie slipped into the basement room he and Cass were sharing. He paused when he saw her laying on the bed, looking worse by the day. He sighed very quietly before moving over and sitting on the edge of the bed. Running his hand gently over her forehead and through her dark hair, he waited for her to wake up.

"Ah," she said, voice sounding far off. "I was dreaming," and she sounded like she might still be.

"Of what, pet?" he asked quietly.

"Beautiful things," she hummed happily. "We were in Paris. You had a branding iron..."

He smiled a bit at that, rising, "I brought you something." Jerrie slipped out of the room briefly.

She clapped her hands, but the motion was faint. "It's not my birthday, is it?"

Jerrie dragged Mac, bound and gagged, back into the room. He grinned, "Not quite, but close. Your sire, my sweet."

"Macavity?" she asked happily. "The one that's supposed to make me all bright and shiny and new again?" They had finally managed to translate the stolen books.

Jerrie tossed Mac to the side, not giving a damn how he fell, or where for that matter. "The one an' only. Now all we need is th' new moon t'night. Then he'll die an' you, Princess, will be fully restored." He grinned, joining her on the bed, "My black goddess. My ripe, wicked plum. It's been-"

"Forever," she finished, kissing him hard for along moment before drawing back. "Can I have him until then?" she pouted.

Jerrie drew back from the kiss, nearly scowling at that request. He looked toward Mac, visibly irked by that idea, but he finally nodded, "Alright, you can play. But don't kill him, pet. He mustn't die 'til the ritual."

"Of course not," she said, leaning over to where Mac's eyes widened slightly. He was bound and gagged but his concern was evident. "If you'd bring him to me? To keep me entertained until I can paint the streets red?"

"Whatever you say, pet." Jerrie sighed, getting up and moving over to yank Mac to his feet and pull him over to the bed so Cass could reach him.

She grinned happily, moving over to Mac and leaning over him so her hair hit his chest. "We're going to have fun, you and I," she crooned.

Jerrie let go of Mac, scowling but slipped out of the room to go check on the preparations for the ritual.

o.o.o.o

Mistoffelees glanced around the library, rubbing his eyes again as he listened vaguely to the conversation going on around him between the Slayers and Cori. Coricopat was leaning against one of the tables as he spoke, "Kendra, I've conferred with your Watcher, Mr. Zabuto. He and I agree that until this matter with Jerrie and Cassandra is resolved, you two should work together."

Grids' lip curled slightly at that, "Oh, that'll be a treat."

Ignoring Grids, Kendra addressed Cori. "You believe Jerrie is attempting to restore this Cassandra to health then?"

"Yes. That would be the dark power your Watcher referred to, as far as we can tell. Cassandra is not just evil. She's also quite mad. Restored to her full health there is absolutely no telling what she might do."

"Then we shall simply stop Jerrie," Kendra declared.

"Good plan! Let's go! Charge!" Grids couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"Griddlebone," Cori's tone was weary, but held enough of a reprimand that the teen sighed.

She turned to the other slayer, "It's a little more complicated than that, okay, John Wayne?"

The watcher nodded, "Yes, I'm afraid it is. Jerrie has called out the Order of Taranta to keep Grids out of the way."

"The assassins?" for a moment Kendra actually looked impressed. "I have read of them in the writings of Dramius."

Coricopat looked at her in a bit of surprise, "Really? Which volume?"

"If my memory serves, it was six, sir," she replied. To the side Mistoffelees perked up, flipping through the books he had out in front of him quickly, having sworn he'd seen something about Dramius around four that morning.

"How do you know that stuff?" Grids just looked at Kendra, like she'd grown another head.

"From my studies," she replied, confused by the question.

"So...you have a lot of free time, then," Grids assumed.

"No," she replied, still confused. "I study because it is required. The slayer handbook insists upon it. I'm surprised you don't know it."

"There's a Slayer handbook?" Mistoffelees asked, glancing up in some surprise.

"Handbook? What handbook? How come I didn't get a handbook?" The blonde turned to Cori who shook his head.

"After meeting you, Griddlebone, I was quite sure the handbook would be of no use in your case."

"What do you mean - "it would be of no use in my case?" What's wrong with my case?"

"Is there a t-shirt too we should know about?" Mistoffelees asked, giving Coricopat a long and offended look. He was offended on behalf of Grids, and if there was a Slayer handbook... there could be so much information in it. That Cori already knew, granted, but that they could have been using too.

Cori looked from one to the other, shaking his head slightly, "Believe me, the handbook would not have fit this situation."

Mistoffelees' mouth twisted, still put out but he went back to flipping through what he hoped as volume six of Dramius, holding the book up in front of his face.

Coricopat frowned at that, but turned back to Kendra, "Perhaps you could show me the bit about the Order? I have to admit I haven't ever been able to get through Dramius fully."

"It is difficult," she smiled at the watcher. "All those footnotes." Mistoffelees made a face at her over the top of the book, as if footnotes were no match for him.

Grids grimaced, muttering, "Welcome to planet pocket protector."

Coricopat glanced at her, "Grids, Principal Snyder came snooping around for you."

Her eyes widened, "Oh God, the career fair."

"You'd best make an appearance, I think."

She grimaced but nodded, "Right." Mistoffelees set the book down, as if sick of it already, moving over to Grids and standing near her.

"Excuse me," Kendra said. "Do you mean to say Grids is a student here?"

Cori nodded slightly, "Yes."

"And you allow this? Surely, I'd imagine she's a cheerleader too then," Kendra huffed.

"Actually she gave up cheerleading," came his reply. "It's rather a funny story actually."

Kendra stared at him for a long moment in shock.

"Well..." He shook his head slightly, "Let's go find those volumes then shall we?" The librarian glanced at Misto and Grids, "You two should be headed toward the career fair I believe."

Mistoffelees nodded, not looking entirely pleased but he hefted his bag and turned to leave. Grids' lip curled again, but she exited the library without another word. Mistoffelees followed quickly. "Grids," he called out.

She stopped, waiting for him, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay? I mean, obviously not. But, what's up? We tried to call you last night."

"I...went where I felt safe. I went to Mac's," she answered quietly.

He paused for a moment before linking his arm through her's. "That makes sense. Though, next time, if possible it would be nice to get a call or something. I don't think Tugger slept last night," he paused for a moment. "Speaking of which, where the hell is Tugger?"

She gave him a sheepish glance, "I'll call next time." A frown accompanied her next words, "I haven't seen him."

"I think he went to check out your house," Mistoffelees said with a frown.

Her eyes widened at that, "You mean you two let him go alone? And you haven't heard back from him?"

"I think he took Bomba?" Mistoffelees offered. "I was asleep at the time."

"I should go check on them..." She looked toward the front door of the school and scowled when she saw Principal Snyder there, "Or we wait to see if we hear from them within the next hour."

Mistoffelees ran a hand through his hair. "God. I can't believe I wasn't thinking about that," he shook his head slightly.

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

He blinked at her. "I think I pulled off forty-five minutes over a book?"

"Then don't hold yourself to blame for not thinking of this. If we don't hear from them in an hour I'll sneak out."

He nodded, sighing. "Alright, alright. But first, you have to play the good student, right?"

"Must I?" She sighed, but offered him a bit of a smile to show she was, mostly, joking.

Rolling his eyes at her, he bumped shoulders. "You must."

o.o.o.o

Meanwhile, in Grids' basement, Bombalurina was attempting to wear a track in the floor with her pacing. There was no sure way to tell how long she and Tugger had been trapped in the basement, but they hadn't dared to take the tape off the door's cracks yet.

"Would you please just sit down or at least change your pattern, or something?" Tugger asked. "You're making me queasy, acting like a caged cat."

"Well, you're no more use than a bump on a log, just sitting there," she replied testily. "You should be helping me think up a plan."

"I have a plan," he protested. "We wait, and Grids saves us."

"How will she even know where to find us?"

Tugger gave her a long, hard look. "Bomba, this is Grids' house. I figure she's gonna find us before water becomes an issue."

"What if she doesn't?" She protested, "I'm supposed to just waste away down here with you? No, thanks." The girl started past him toward the stairs.

"Whoa," Tugger leapt up, stopping her. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Checking to see if he's gone," Bomba answered, as though it should be obvious.

"Well, that's brilliant, Sherlock, but what if he's not?" Tugger demanded. "Just gonna let him right on in."

"This coming from the guy who thinks we should stay here and hope somebody else decides to be a hero. Worst case, he's out there and we put more tape down. Forgot I was stranded with a loser."

"Hey, looser I may be but I wasn't the one stupid enough to let worm guy in the house in the first place! That honor is all yours, madam."

"He looked normal!" She protested, "And it was sunny out!"

"So, what, he was supposed to have a neon sign saying, oh look I'm an assassin over his head or something?" Tugger demanded. "All it took was the prospect of free make up and you're eating out of his hand like a stupid dog!"

Her eyes narrowed, "You know what? I'm going. I'd rather be worm food than look at your pathetic face for another minute!"

They were standing toe to toe by then, voices steadily rising. "Then go, I won't stop you!" he snarled, looking down at her and arms thrown wide.

"I bet you wouldn't! I bet you'd just let a girl go off to her doom all by herself!" Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Not just any girl," he drawled, hooking his hands in his belt loops. "You're special."

"I can't believe I'm stuck here spending what are probably my last moments on earth with you!" Bomba looked about ready to slap him.

"I hope these are my last moments, because any more of you and I'm gonna-"

"You're gonna what? Coward!"

"Moron!" he snapped back.

"I hate you!" she snarled.

"Not as much as I hate you," he replied hotly.

There was a pause, their eyes locked. It was hard to tell which moved first, but they were suddenly kissing, Bomba's hands moving to comb through Tugger's hair. Tugger's hands went around her waist in the very moment he registered that they were kissing. It was one of those few kisses that actually feel ground-shaking and shocking and astounding all at once.

And it went on for quite some time. Suddenly, just as quickly as they'd fallen into the kiss, they jumped out of it, staring at each other for a beat.

Bomba glanced toward the door finally, "We've got to get out of here."

"Uh-huh," Tugger agreed and they moved quickly, ripping the tape away from the door. Peeking out, Tugger declared, "He's gone." The pair rushed for the front door.

They were on their way through the dining room, nearly to the front door, when worms started raining down on them from the ceiling. Bomba shrieked, trying to brush them off while getting out of the house.

Tugger stopped and turned back to her, picking up the hose and turning it on to full power, spraying her and getting rid of most of the worms. She shrieked again, but finally managed to dislodge the last of the worms and get out of the way of the hose, bolting for her car, "Come on!"

Tugger didn't need to be told twice, diving for the car. Bomba barely waited for him to get the door closed before pulling away from the curb and heading for the school.

o.o.o.o

Grids looked around the common room where the Career Fair was being held. Her brow arched and she elbowed Mistoffelees lightly, "Don't look now, but that guy over there is so checking you out."

Mistoffelees blinked at her, reaction slowed. "Huh? Who am I not looking at now?"

"Cute guy, to your left, with the guitar case."

Mistoffelees blinked and finally turned, seeing Pounce to the side and offering him a smile before turning back to Grids. "Oh, that's Pounce. I think he's just expressing computer nerd solidarity. Or, appetizer lover solidarity. Anyway, some solidarity of some kind, that's all."

"Right. That's why he's on his way over?" she grinned a bit.

"He," Mistoffelees blinked rapidly, rubbing a hand quickly over his eyes. "Yes?"

Pouncival neared, offering Misto a slight smile, "Hi."

Grids smirked, murmuring a quiet "Told you so" as she made her way toward the law enforcement booth.

Mistoffelees blinked after her, slightly offended and wincing after her retreating back, before turning back to Pounce. "Hey..."

"How're you?" the other boy asked.

"Oh, you know, the usual running off a maybe forty minutes sleep over books, I mean," he stuttered out. "Not that sleeping over books after an all nighter is actually normal, well, more normal than you'd think but it's not like, weekly, well, unless you were Cori then I think it might be but I..." he just about smacked his forehead. "How are you?"

Pounce blinked once and then shrugged, "I'm good." He changed topics to something he would hopefully understand the answer to, "Did you decide? You gonna become a corporate computer suit guy?"

"Oh, no, I think I'll graduate high school first. Maybe even college. I hear college is nice. Very life changing and all that," Mistoffelees replied. He was never staying up all night again if this was any indication.

Pouncival nodded slightly, shrugging a bit, "Sounds like a good plan. I've heard that sort of life changing can be good."

"Good is good," Mistoffelees replied and winced. "Well, what about you? Joining the ranks of black suits?"

"I'm not really a computer person." He considered, "Or a work of any kind person."

Mistoffelees blinked and smiled faintly. "How did you get chosen then?" he asked, tilting his head.

"I sort of test well. Which is cool and all, except then it leads to jobs."

"Well, eventually that might be good?" Mistoffelees offered. "Besides, being skilled tends to be good. Even if you don't want to use it and all."

"This is true, but I figure I've got a while before I need to worry about that. And the band gets enough gigs to work for now," Pounce replied with a tiny lift of his shoulders.

"Right," Mistoffelees nodded. "So, do you have any major ambitions at all?"

"For now? E flat, diminished 9th."

Mistoffelees blinked. "That... might make sense to me running off something like several hours of sleep, but I'm not entirely sure it would," he admitted.

"The E flat's doable, but it's that diminished 9th. That's a man's chord. You could lose a finger," Pounce offered Mistoffelees a grin as he motioned to the guitar case he carried, making his meaning a bit clearer, hopefully.

"Oh," Mistoffelees said, eyes widening and his face relaxed into a smile. "Of course. Well, try not to lose a finger, though I'm sure when you figure it out, you'll be quite manly up on stage doing it."

Pounce chuckled, "Hopefully."

"I mean, music is a nice ambition," Mistoffelees tried.

"It's what I've got right now. How 'bout you? Big plans beyond college?"

"Actually," he paused and laughed quietly, shaking his head. "Not really. I'm probably just trying to survive until then. You know, you think I'd be the type to know my major since I was three, but I really have no idea what I want to do."

"Well, you'll figure it out I bet."

"I hope so," he replied, managing to bite back any more comments about surviving until then.

Meanwhile, over at the law enforcement table, the woman running it glanced up as Grids finally made her way over, gesturing to a sheet. "Sign in. Now that everyone's here, listen up and answer when I call your name." The students neared, Grids sighing, she really didn't want to be here.

The woman went through the list, reaching. "Griddlebone Summers!"

"Here," the blonde half-raised her hand.

Without any sign of what she was doing, the police woman suddenly drew a gun and aimed it at Grids. "Oh for the love of...Get down!" She shouted as she dove for cover.

The woman started firing off shots as the high schoolers scattered. Mostly she was aiming at Grids, but bullets were straying everywhere, including to where an addled Mistoffelees was still talking to Pounce. Pounce startled, "Look out!" He tackled the other teen to the ground, swearing quietly as a bullet grazed his arm.

Grids moved quickly, crawling through the chaos until she was behind the assailant. She grabbed the woman's legs, yanking them out from under her and bringing the attacker to the ground. Calmly the woman simply drew another gun, pointing it at Grid's face, only to have it kicked out her hands by Kendra, who glared down at her.

Mistofflees meanwhile was panicking, pushing Pounce off him and sitting them both up. "Oh god, oh god, there's a gun, not used to guns, are you okay?"

Pounce tilted his head on one side, looking at where his arm was bleeding before clapping his other hand over it, "Huh. Yeah."

Mistoffelees put his own hand over the wound. "It's not deep," he murmured. "And the bullet's not stuck in you, which I think is good."

Pouncival nodded, "It's very...odd. And painful. Huh."

Grids took advantage of the woman's distraction to gather herself and hit her attacker, hard, repeatedly. In response the police woman threw Grids over, and grabbed one of the kids to the side of the demonstration, pulling out another gun and pointing at the boy's chest.

"Don't!" Grids' eyes widened, but she stayed where she was, not wanting to risk the woman pulling that trigger.

The woman dropped the boy at the door, running out, Kendra in pursuit.

"I'd imagine," Mistoffelees managed and looked around. "Oi! Who's calling the hospital already?"

Grids moved over quickly to her friend's side, "I think I saw Jamie Calahan heading for the phone. Are you guys alright?"

"I'm fine," Mistoffelees replied, hand still pressed against Pounce's arm as he looked up. "You?"

She nodded, "That's two." The words were murmured, and she silently hoped they heard from Tugger soon, since the only place she hadn't been attacked yet was her house.

"Was, was that a demonstration?" the boy who had been used as a hostage asked as Mistoffelees swallowed hard.

Grids glanced at Mistoffelees before getting to her feet and nodding, "Yeah...guess so."

o.o.o.o

Grids was perched on one of the library tables a short while later, having given Coricopat an explanation of the occurrences at the career fair, Mistofelees giving his side of it, "She was definitely one of the Taranta gang, Cori. And way gun happy."

He nodded slightly, glancing at Misto, "And this Pounce fellow, he's alright?"

"The paramedics said he would be," Mistoffelees agreed, head shifting around when the library doors slammed open, Tugger and a soaked Bomba entering. Kendra instantly moved in front of them.

"Down girl," Grids said in a tone indicating a complete lack of threat from the new arrivals.

But Kendra had frozen, looking at Tugger who blinked at her. "Who sponsored career day today, the Briths Soccer Fan Association?" he asked, looking back to Cori and his friends. "Because someone trashed that place."

"We had a rather violent visit from one of the Order of Taranta," Cori explained.

"Ah, everybody okay?" Tugger asked. "Because that being said? We have had a visit from the king of freaks of that order, I kid you freaking not. Also, who's new girl?" he added, pointing to Kendra without really looking at her at that point.

"Oh, right, Tugger, Bombalurina, this is Kendra. It's extremely complicated, but she's also a slayer," the librarian explained.

Bomba shrugged, reaching up to wring out her ponytail a bit more, still too freaked out by the bug guy to pay much attention to anything. She barely glanced at the other girl as she sat at one of the library tables, "Nice to meet you."

Mistoffelees arched a brow at Bomba. "Wait, there's another Slayer?" Tugger asked, glancing at Grids. "I knew this whole one girl in each generation was just an attention getter."

"Just say hello, Tugger..." Grids said, shaking her head slightly.

Tugger turned what he hoped was a charming grin on Kendra. "Welcome to Sunndydale, this town will attempt to kill you. But you're a Slayer, huh? I like that in a woman."

Bomba shot him a dark look as Cori spoke, trying to get their attention again, "This assassin you encountered, Tugger. What did he look like?"

Bombalurina shrieked from where she was still running her hand over her pony tail, throwing a dead worm onto the library table.

"Like that," Tugger said simply, though he hadn't missed the dark look from Bomba.

"What is it with you and bug people, Tugger?" Grids asked, picking the worm up carefully.

"This dude as not just praying mantis lady," Tugger protested as Mistoffelees leaned away from the bug. "He was a man made of bugs, not a man who was a bug."

"Huh?" Mistoffelees blinked in confusion.

That caused Grids to drop the worm quickly. Cori's brow rose, "The important thing is - everybody's okay. Still, it is quite apparent that we are under serious attack."

"Yeah," Griddlebone supplied, "These Taranta guys are Uberbad. If Kendra hadn't been there today I would have been toast." She glanced at the other slayer, finally acknowledging that she did need her, at least for now. Kendra returned the look and the acknowledgement.

"I fear the worst is yet to come." The librarian murmured, "I've discovered the remaining keys to Cassandra's cure. The ritual requires her sire and must take place in a church on the night of the new moon."

"The new moon? That is tonight," Kendra said.

"Exactly. I'm sure the assassins are here to-"

Grids cut her watcher off before he could finish his thought, "They need Cassandra's sire? Y-you mean the vamp that made her?"

"What's wrong?" Mistoffelees asked, leaning forward and peering at her expression.

"It...it's Mac. H-he's Cassandra's sire," she swallowed hard.

"Man!" Tugger said, a little too loudly. "That guy got some major neck in his day..." Mistoffelees whacked him hard in the shoulder and Tugger snapped his mouth closed.

Grids barely glanced at them, her gaze fixed on Cori, "This thingy. This ritual. Will it kill him?"

The librarian hesitated, but sighed and nodded, "I'm afraid so."

"Then...we-we have to do something. We have to find the church where this ritual takes place!"

"Agreed. And we must work quickly. There are only five hours to sundown," Coricopat murmured.

"Mac, Mac, Mac," Kendra shook her head. "Our priorities must be Cassandra, not your vampire fling."

"Mac's our friend!" Tugger snapped in Grids' defense. "Except I don't like him. But that's not the point here."

Griddlebone whirled on the other girl, "He's not a fling you bitch. Look, you've got your priorities and I have mine. Right now they mesh. You have two options. You can work with me, or you can get the hell out of my way. Which one's it going to be?"

There was a pause and Kendra finally nodded. "I am with you."

"Good. Cause I've had it. With you and this whole damn situation, but right now you're right we've got bigger things to worry about. I'm fed up to here with Jerrie thinking he runs this place. He's going down. You can attack me, you can send assassins after me . . . that's just fine. But nobody messes with my boyfriend."

Mistoffelees couldn't help but glance at Coricopat at that, before going to the computer. "Well, we only have some forty three odd churches to go through, at a kind estimate, so let's get going."

Coricopat blinked, shaking his head to clear it from Grids' rather vehement speech before looking at Mistoffelees, "Forty-three? That seems a bit excessive."

"It's the Hellmouth," Mistoffelees replied, pulling up information on the computer. "I think the evil vibes make people want to pray harder."

"Check and see if any are currently closed or abandoned," Cori instructed, turning to Kendra and Grids, "The two of you should see to the weapons for tonight." His gaze trailed to Tugger and Bomba, indicating a couple of volumes, "See if you can find your attacker in one of these. I'll go help Mistoffelees as best I can."

"Sure you will," Tugger muttered, moving over to open the top volume. "Let's find police ladies and bug dudes."

Bomba picked up another book, rather than share the same volume with Tugger. Grids motioned for Kendra to follow her as she went and got the weapons out for them to clean and sharpen.

A short while later after working with the weapons, Kendra glanced up. "Do those two, they also know you are the Slayer? Tell me, did anyone explain to you what a secret identity means?"

"Nope, must be in the handbook. Right after that chapter on personality removal," Grids responded, glancing at the crossbow Kendra was holding. "Careful with that thing."

"I am an expert in all weapons," Kendra snapped just as it went off, the arrow hitting Cori's lamp.

Cori's voice could be heard from the main library, "Everything alright in there?"

"Yeah," Griddlebone called back, "It's okay. Kendra killed the bad lamp."

"It," Kendra started to protest and sighed. "The trigger mechanism is different," she muttered before offering quietly. "Perhaps when this is over you can show me how this one works."

Grids considered and the offered her a bit of a smile, "Honestly? When this is over I'm thinking pineapple pizza and teen video fest. Maybe something from the Ringwald oeuvre. That or Disney movies. Not sure which yet."

Mistoffelees, who could hear them through the office door called out, "I vote Ringwald followed by Disney."

Kendra blinked. "I am not allowed to watch television. My Watcher says it promotes intellectual laziness."

"Sounds like a plan," Grids called back. She turned her attention back to Kendra, "And he says that like it's a bad thing?" Kendra nodded quietly.

Outside the office, Tugger cried out in victory. "Ha! Found our bug man," he said, pointing to two pictures, one of the man in his round faced human form, and the other one with him as a man made of worms. Tugger shuddered. "Alright, it says he can only be killed in his disassembled state." He turned to Bomba, speaking as one would to a three year old. "Disassembled, that means when he's broken down to all his worm like bits-"

Bomba scowled at him, grabbing the book from him, "I know what it means, dork head."

Tugger went to grab the book back. "Dork head? By god, Bomba, you slash me with your words, I don't know if I'll ever stop the bleeding." As he tried to get the book back, their hands touched.

Bomba dropped the book, yanking back, with a yelp. Tugger moved back just as quickly with a high pitched sound. They stared at each other for a moment as Mistoffelees looked around the computer screen to frown at him.

"Okay, you two are acting weird for even you guys," Mistoffelees said. "What's up?"

"Nothing!" Tugger said quickly.

"What would be up?" Bomba answered, running a hand over her hair, "So we found the bug guy." Mistoffelees gave them a long look and shrugged, going back to dealing with Churches. Bomba eyed him and then glanced at Tugger before turning to see if she could find anything more about the bug man.