"I…I don't…" For once, Willow didn't seem to know what to say. Her hands flapped uselessly and she stared blankly at Joyce.
Joyce stood and walked over to the desk. "Honey," she said, patting Willow's shoulder gently. "I'm sure finding the server and taking control of Ethan would keep us safe. Do you really need to go that far, though? Why control him? Why not just cut off the signal?"
Willow went so white, Tara thought she might faint. Then the color rushed back until white became bright red. "I still need the server to turn it off!" she snapped. "I need the server and I can't find it. Don't you get it?"
"Calm down, Willow." Joyce wasn't the calm, gentle mother figure this time. Tara now knew where Buffy got her Command Voice. "It isn't any different than the radio-controlled Barbie car Buffy had. You turned it off with the remote – your server – but sometimes I could turn it off by cooking something in the microwave."
She paused and resumed her seat. "We know Ethan will come here," Joyce pointed out. "He's been programmed to find Buffy. When he shows up, can you do what that microwave used to do? Interfere with the signal and shut him off?"
"I don't know," Willow admitted. "I mean, I guess it's possible." She was floundering, all her usual cheerful confidence gone. "If Ethan shows up; if I find something to be your microwave; if we're all still alive…"
Acting as if Willow's response was a ringing endorsement, Joyce smiled. "Good. Now we can help Buffy and Faith get set up. Ideas?"
Tara stared at Joyce, wide-eyed. She might not share Willow's pessimism, but she did realize beating Ethan and all those soldiers wasn't going to be that easy. Silent seconds passed. Giving up on understanding Joyce, she glanced at the rest of the room.
They didn't understand, either.
Giles cleaned his glasses with a handkerchief. Little squeaks emitted every time his fingers moved. And Willow seemed intent on typing an entire screen of the same letter; she stabbed at a one key, over and over, as if it were personally responsible for their problems.
It was time for Tara to step in. Step up. "I…W-We," she stuttered, deciding at the last minute to include Willow in what she hoped would be an acceptable plan, "can't beat Eth-than with magic. There are other things. N-Not real magic." Tara wanted to make that point very clear. "Not lightning bolts or f-fireballs. Maybe a glam-mour or wards."
"You think they're gonna be OK?" Faith asked, interrupting Buffy's intense study of a locker door.
"What?" Buffy turned, giving Faith her full attention. "What...who are you talking about?"
Faith stopped and smacked one palm against the wall. "Angel." The name hung in the air while she glared at Buffy. "He was kinda pale the last time I saw him." With a roll of her eyes, she continued. "Red and your girl. Who the fuck did you think I meant? Get your head outta your ass and pay attention. Will ain't used to this. She ain't good with not having the answers; I told you that."
"Yes, you did." Buffy stepped into Faith's space and poked her in the chest. "I listened. Didn't you hear me tell her she was doing a good job? I even gave you a pat on the back, not that it did any good. What do you want me to do? I know Will doesn't know everything, but this is what we do. We have a plan. A plan that I came up with because I don't want Willow to think she has to do it all by herself. Unless she suddenly decides to sit on the sidelines, this is the way it's always going to be."
Looking at Buffy's finger, resting against her chest, Faith mumbled, "She's scared, B. I don't…I don't like it when Red gets that way."
Buffy sighed and dropped her hand. "Neither do I." It wasn't the first time they'd agreed on something; it was, however, the first time Buffy remembered them on the same side of a Willow-involved issue. "Willow shouldn't be here. None of them should. I mean, my mom? It freaks me out that she even knows about the Slaying. Having her back there…" Stopping the flood of words before she had to actually confront her own fears, Buffy raised her hands in a show of surrender. "All we can do is try to keep them safe, Faith."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." Faith sounded as if she was working to convince herself. "How do we do that?" She looked around the dark, trash-strewn hallway. "Things ain't changed since the last time we came down this way."
"Sure it has," Buffy countered hotly. God, she was sick and tired of making motivational speeches. No one ever helped her stay upbeat about another hopeless situation. "The gang is working on controlling Ethan. They know how to do that!" she shouted.
"And what are we doing?" Faith shouted back. "You said we was gonna set traps. With what? Old posters and some beat up lockers?"
The verbal jab hurt, and it was nothing less than the truth. All they had were the remains of a high school Buffy had already destroyed. On the verge of lashing back at Faith, Buffy froze and saw something she'd never noticed before. Faith was scared, too. Their chances of winning relied on one crazy idea. Willow was struggling. They had Giles and Joyce about to take the fall with them.
Faith was scared.
The realization stabilized Buffy's teetering emotions. "Yeah, that's exactly what we use. Even if we had guns, that's not what we do, Faith." She took another look around the hall. "I know this place better than anyone; that has to count for something. Riley and Ethan aren't going to know that the stairwell near the English classrooms gives you a perfect place to hide and spy – or throw things – at anyone in the hall."
"You think we're gonna be like that kid in the movie? The one that beat up on the guys trying to break into his house?" Laughing, Faith started walking again. "Nice, B. Thought that'd be more my thing. What d'you want to do first?"
Getting into the spirit of the idea, Buffy pointed to a bucket sitting in a doorway. "There are a bunch of bags of concrete back in the science wing. If we mix it up and put it in those buckets, mount them over a few of the doors…"
"Concrete soldiers." Faith resumed walking. "Remember that big hole in the floor by the gym? Bet if we pulled a tarp or something over it, nobody'd see it in the dark."
Dusting off her hands, Buffy raised an eyebrow at Faith. "Did we take care of your doubts?"
"Nah. I ain't ever gonna be all sweetness and shit like you, B." Faith's dimples taunted Buffy. "I do think them soldiers are screwed, though. Either gonna be covered in concrete, laying in a hole, or stuck in a freezer."
"Oh, yeah." Buffy did a victory dance. "Finding that tape recorder was sweet." Riley had been sniffing around her every day in Psych class; he'd follow the sound of her recorded voice right into that walk-in freezer in the kitchen. "You ready to check in with the gang?" The question wasn't necessary. Buffy was honestly surprised Faith hadn't already started toward the construction office.
A tired smirk gave Buffy all the answer she needed, and she braced for Faith's verbal response. "You itchin' to get back to your girl, B? You shoulda said something earlier; that last concrete bucket didn't need two people."
It was the second time Faith had referred to Tara as Buffy's girl. "Don't call her that," Buffy ordered, not sure why the phrase bothered her so much. She stared at Faith, daring her to comment, to push. When no more taunts were forthcoming, she spun and headed for the office. It had been a long day; it was time to settle in and rest. Experience said Ethan and his goons would be there soon, and they had to be ready.
Examining the pile of supplies on the table, Tara allowed herself a small measure of confidence. Willow's bag of magical tricks and the discovery of a surprisingly well-stocked science classroom meant she could cast a few wards. Enough to cover the areas lacking cameras, anyway.
"I think I found your microwave, Mrs. Summers." Willow got up from the desk and rubbed her lower back with both hands. "We're going to have to sacrifice one of Snyder's cameras, though. I found a website that claims you can use a spy camera and a nine-volt battery to disrupt wireless signals?"
No one answered the query; not that Willow appeared to notice. She paced back and forth, talking to no one in particular. "All I have to do is hook up the battery and turn on the camera. Poof! Like staking a vampire. No more pesky signal. Ethan will be back to his normal, creepy self. No more Super Sorcerer."
"Wicked." Faith announced as she and Buffy walked in. "Guess you and me can get home in time for some..." She finished the comment with comically wiggled eyebrows and an outrageous smirk.
Tara giggle, enjoying their continued play.
"Do not, I beg you, say anything more." Giles held up a hand, lips twitching suspiciously. "Willow and Tara have made great strides while you were gone. Sit down and let them explain what they have planned."
Faith nodded, but winked at Tara as she sauntered by.
"We'll take all the good news you have to give." Buffy walked to the table and sat down in what Tara now considered "her" chair.
"Your mom solved our problem with Ethan," Willow said. "I think you need to hire her full time, Buffy. She figured out that all we have to do is block the signal Walsh's computer is sending to Ethan. If you and Faith can get me one of Snyder's cameras, I can use it as a jammer."
Buffy pointed a finger at Joyce. "When this is over, you and I are having a long talk." Then she turned back to Willow. "So you do this jamming thing. Got it. Giles said you and Tara had news, though. What else?"
Hesitantly, Tara picked up the conversation. "I've got a f-few th-things. Magic," she said softly. "I can put up w-wards where th-there aren't cam-meras. Maybe even cast a glamour." Buffy's face scrunched in confusion so Tara elaborated. "A f-fake image. I c-can make the s-soldiers see someth-thing that's not there."
A slow, sinister smile lit Buffy's face. "I have the perfect place for that." She looked at Faith, who echoed her evil expression. "What do you think, Faith?"
"Oh, yeah." Tara shivered at the chill satisfaction in Faith's reply. "Them assholes won't know what hit 'em."