Chapter 79

The Article

"It's official. Puck has a full ride to OSU-Lima. So… I'm happy for him. Really, I am."

Celeste managed a stiff nod across the table from Finn. Blaine had made a reservation for them at Breadstix that weekend, during dinner when they dimmed down the lights and the jazz band played. Celeste had been impressed - she didn't even know you could make reservations at Breadstix, but here she was, on a date with the school's quarterback. She couldn't believe how lucky she'd been when she was set up with Finn Hudson, but she was beginning to realize why he had trouble getting dates. All he'd done all evening was ramble on about that night's football game and how his friend, Noah Puckerman, had gotten a scholarship from the talent scout in attendance.

"He's my best friend and… he deserves it. I guess. I mean, it's not like he's ever had a real interest in going to college but… neither have I, I guess, so who cares, right? He'll go to OSU with a bunch of our friends and I'll just… work in my stepdad's auto-shop, I guess," he continued as he absentmindedly crushed a breadstick in between his thumb and his forefinger and sprinkled the crumbs onto his salad plate.

Celeste cleared her throat, about to tell Finn that she missed out on a cheerleading scholarship because of her neck injury, in an attempt to comfort him, before he interrupted her.

"I mean, maybe deep down, part of me feels that Puck just lucks into everything, you know? It's not like he really worked for this scholarship, right? He's just happy he has it so that he doesn't have to worry about what he's gonna be doing for the next four years. He'll just be partying and playing football until he's twenty-two, which is fine, but I mean, some of us have to work to get where we are, you know, and even then-"

"Who had the macaroni and shrimp?" asked a dark-haired waitress as she turned to their table with a tray of food.

Finn blinked up at her. "Oh, me."

She smiled and laid down their bowls of pasta. "So you have the penne rosa, and the gentleman across the room sent over a plate of calamari."

Finn narrowed his eyes at the plastic basket of food that looked like thick onion rings and peered across the room to see Puck waving at him from a booth, smiling widely as he sat across from a ginger girl in his World Geography class. Finn gave him a little wave and frowned down at the calamari. He didn't even know what calamari was.

"Well, that's… nice. Really classy of him, to send over appetizers like he's… I don't know, some sort of adult who has his life together. I mean, am I overreacting? Am I taking this too personally or is he shoving this in my face? I bet he doesn't even know what calamari is, either."

Celeste was about to tell him what calamari was, but he continued to rant to himself, so she just started to eat.

xxx

"Didn't we do this street already?" Kitty whined.

The two blondes were circling the perimeter of Lima's southernmost area - one could even call it downtown if it weren't slightly less eventful than Wednesday night at Chili's.

"That's the thing about vampires," Buffy said sanctimoniously, "They'll hit up a place even after we've been there. It's like they have no manners."

Kitty sighed as they walked step-by-step, fingering their stakes and listening for something other than the distant thumping of a late night Bronze.

"You've been doing this the longest, I guess," Kitty shrugged.

"I have."

"Maybe too long."

Buffy scrunched up her face as they turned the corner into an alleyway. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Kitty smirked, almost smug. "Nothing."

Buffy stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at the younger girl. "Do you have a problem with me?"

Kitty whirled around the face the slayer, a mocking smile still on her face. "No, I don't. But I have been wondering this whole time what yourproblem is with me, and I think I just figured it out. Either, you're threatened by me, or you're just flat out jealous."

Buffy almost reeled back. "Excuse me?!"

"Did I stutter, Smurfette? You're either threatened that there's a new slayer in town who may or may not steal the title of Strongest, Shortest Blond Bitch out from under your nose, or you're jealous that, I don't know, I'm prettier, funnier, better-"

"Get over yourself, okay? I am not jealous. Sure, I may not fight vampires in the nude or flirt with everyone I meet-"

"Well, maybe you should start, because obviously something in your bottle needs uncorking. Have you even gotten laid one time since Santana?"

Buffy grimaced. "What do you know about Santana?"

Kitty shrugged. "Just what your friends have said. Big love. Big loss. How everyone has moved on except you. I mean, what is this, Twilight? Get over it."

Buffy balled her fists and stared at the pavement beneath them. "I've got an idea. How about I don't hear anything from you, about Santana or anything else in my life, ever again?"

Kitty smirked. "What are getting so worked up over?"

"Why are your lips still moving?"

Kitty barked out a laugh. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"Hardly. Do you really think you could take me?"

Kitty's eyes wandered over Buffy's shoulders. "Yeah, but let's just hope they can't."

She pushed Buffy out of the way and lunged towards two vampires who ran toward them. Buffy fell against a brick building as Kitty got into blows with one vamp and the other started to corner her. Buffy grabbed an abandoned trash can from beside a dumpster and shoved it over one of the vampires heads as Kitty continued to fight hers. As Buffy removed her stake from inside her sleeve, another vamp pounced from behind and lifted her up, throwing her against the dumpster. She kicked out at his face as he neared and Buffy looked up to see Kitty still punching the bloodied, incapacitated vampire.

"Kitty, stake him already and give me a hand!" she called to the other slayer, just as one of the vamps wriggled out from the trash can and pounced on Buffy's back, knocking her stake to the ground.

He wrapped his hands around her neck as she struggled to reach the stake and said, "For Kakistos we live. For Kakistos you'll die."

"Kitty!" Buffy yelled as she continued to reach for her stake, just inches away.

Kitty was still punching out the vampire in a mad rage when Buffy gripped the stake and leaped up in time to stake both vamps on her tail. She grimaced as she turned to the younger slayer, still beating her vampire to a pulp. Buffy grabbed the small blonde from behind and tossed her aside, staking the beaten vamp in one swift motion. Kitty panted and furrowed her brow at Buffy and the now lack of vampires.

"What is wrong with you?" Buffy demanded, getting splinters from gripping her stake so tightly.

"What are you talking about?" asked Kitty.

"I'm talking about you going all Grand Theft Auto on that vampire."

"If vampire cruelty upsets you then you're probably in the wrong line of work," Kitty chuckled.

"I think you like it a little too much."

"I was doing my job!"

"The job is to slay them, not to recreate a scene from Pulp Fiction while I get cornered and almost killed!"

Kitty smirked, smug. "I thought you could handle yourself."

xxx

Kurt had his head bowed over the desk in his bedroom, working through some basic calculus when Quinn knocked on the door.

"Oh, hey, Quinn. I'm glad you came," he said, smiling nervously as he rose from his seat, rubbing his hands against his zebra-stripe jeans.

"Yeah, your dad let me in," she said, closing the door behind her as her messenger bag clanged against her hip.

"I didn't even hear the doorbell," said Kurt, "I'm trying to catch up with this homework Ms. Laurie sprang on us-"

"Can we just cut to the chase?" asked Quinn, her eyebrows knitted, "What do you need my help with?"

Kurt sighed. "Okay, well, you may want to sit down," he said, taking a seat at the edge of his bed.

Quinn reluctantly joined him, staring into the boys' eyes.

"It's kind of a complicated situation, but basically, I need you to remove a piece of my soul."

Quinn bugged her green eyes out at the boy, a stray spike of pink hair falling over her face. "What are you talking about?"

Kurt took a deep breath and relayed all the details of his mother's death, of the Djinn, of his astral dreams and his theory that his mother can't be laid to rest until the rest of her soul is set free.

"I think that if it's pieced back together, she'll be able to go… I don't know. To Heaven. To rest, finally."

Quinn brought her fingers to her temple, her brain on overload. "So, you want me to take the piece of her soul out of your soul and… set it free?"

"Basically."

"Basically? Kurt, you have to admit that this is insane. First of all, how can you know for sure that your mother is in some alternate universe gone awry, and how can you possibly know that taking away your powers will save her?"

"I have to try, Quinn. You don't know what it's like when she asks for my help. I know that something is wrong. Something in her universe is wrong and she needs to… die."

Quinn sighed deeply. "God, Kurt… Do you have any idea what you would be risking? If something went wrong… And how would I even go about… It might not even do anything, or it could make things so much worse. And what would we do with it… It's just a really complicated situation."

Kurt held up a hand, silencing her rambling. "I know it sounds like a lot, but if we take time and look into it, figure out what we have to do… We have to do something. I can feel how tired she is."

"And you're willing to compromise a piece of your soul being damaged in the crossfire? Do you have any idea what would happen to you? Because I don't. What if I lost part of your soul, or all of it! There's no way I could pull this off, Kurt. Why don't you ask Shelby if she can help you?"

Kurt pursed his lips and sat on his hands, looking at the floor in frustration as a look of resolve washed over Quinn's features.

"You did," she continued, "You went to Shelby and she said no, didn't she? She said it was too dangerous."

"She just doesn't want to be held responsible if something goes wrong," Kurt snapped, desperate.

"Oh, but I do? I'll be A-okay messing around with your soul? It's your soul, Kurt."

"No, it's her soul," said Kurt, standing from the bed, his face hot. He was so frustrated he was close to tears. He thought Quinn would be happy to flex her magical muscles. He hadn't noticed she'd become so ethical.

Quinn sighed sympathetically. "I'm sorry about your mom, Kurt, but… it's just too dangerous."

"So what am I supposed to do?" he asked quietly, folding his arms over his button-down.

"Maybe she's happy wherever she is. Maybe your dreams are just… anxiety attacks or something."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You don't understand," Quinn continued, "It's not like me blowing out all the light bulbs. I'd be way in over my head. I could really hurt you."

"It's not like you've never done anything like this. You could have returned Santana's soul, if you'd had enough time."

"We don't know that," Quinn said quietly, through gritted teeth. She didn't like to be reminded of her biggest disappointment. "Besides, we had nothing to lose. I'm sorry, Kurt, I can't."

"Quinn-"

"I have to go help Rachel with her speech, okay? Just… don't do anything stupid."

xxx

"Congratulations, Berry. You've got my vote."

Rachel turned away from her open locker, quietly mumbling to herself the final paragraph of her acceptance speech for election day. It was only a week away and she was barely reaching four hours of sleep a night, between practising two speeches, working on policies, decorating posters, rehearsing for glee club, and for West Side Story, and keeping up her impeccable GPA. She could tell that her friends, and especially Quinn, were getting tired of her determination, but she was so close to being elected, she could taste it.

"Huh?" she furrowed her brow at Morgan Ru, who had strutted up to her in her crisp Cheerios uniform with a crumpled newspaper in her hand.

"I'm voting Israeli this election," Morgan announced proudly, "I was going to vote for that nasally little mob daughter because she promised to upgrade all of the computers in the tech room to Macs, but I like your ideas better."

Rachel raised her thick eyebrows in confusion. "You do?"

"Yeah, I'm not usually one for idealism, but I think you could do something good for this school. At least, maybe when we graduate we could say that our class had the least amount of Lima losers."

Rachel smiled widely, then faltered. "Is this a trick?"

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't apart of some mean prank?"

Morgan dropped a hip and rolled her eyes. "Don't make it weird, Berry. I just came over to tell you that I was voting for you, so if you were going to do something totally lame like send an Edible Arrangement to everyone on your side, you can put me on the mailing list and remember that I don't like melon balls."

Rachel let her smile spread across her face again. "Duly noted. Thank you, Morgan, I'm surprised you'd be so gracious. No offense. Which of my policies was it that interested you so much? Was it the hardwood floors in the Chem lab because full disclosure, you won't be able to wear heels of any kind in there once we take off the linoleum."

"What? No," Morgan wrinkled her nose, "I read your article in the school newspaper."

Rachel's smile faded slightly. "What article?"

"The one your Courtney Love girlfriend wrote," said Morgan.

She raised the crumpled newspaper in her hands and straightened it out to show a picture of Rachel spread across the first page - her at Sectionals in sophomore year, a little more baby-faced, but pretty, in a black dress with a red ribbon, basking in the dim spotlight just before New Directions started their winning routine. The headline read, 'Berry-ing the Competition'.

"What is this?" Rachel demanded, grabbing the newspaper from Morgan's hand, her eyes pouring over the words.

Morgan shrugged. "I only got the dumb paper this week because I thought they would mention the Cheerios since I thought, for sure they would have a front page spread on Friday's game, and our routine was totally on point. But, there you were, your nose front and center. To be totally honest, I only read your article because I was looking for ammunition against you and your lame little glee club, but I ended up actually, for a second, thinking you were kind of… I don't know, cool."

Rachel ran through the article, picking up bits and pieces that showed off her accomplishments, like her glee club trophies, her dance competitions when she was a kid, her hand-made show choir outfits, her success with the school concert in honor of Ms. Pillsbury. It went on and on about Rachel's ambitions to become a star, to study at NYADA and land a role on Broadway. She skipped to the last paragraph, that begged the question to McKinley students about whether they want a future celebrity to remember them fondly or to tell stories about what losers they were on Good Morning America.

"I mean, obviously you're a super nerd and everything, but I figure if you know what it's like to really want to be the best, maybe you'd care more about funding for cheerleading and stuff than Lady Boy Hummel and Arianna Huffington. Maybe with you, the Cheerios could be on Fox Sports again."

Rachel looked back up at Morgan. "Can I keep this?" she asked, gesturing to the newspaper.

Morgan frowned. "Yeah, I was gonna throw it away, anyways. It's, like, fifty cents."

Rachel smiled and closed her locker, swinging her handbag over her shoulder as her eyes remained trained on the newspaper.

"Thanks," she said absently, "I'll send that Edible Arrangement. No melon balls."

xxx

"Maybe you just have to accept that you and Kitty have different styles."

"Styles? This isn't stripes versus polka dots."

Buffy and Tina slowly ambled alongside each other on their way to Homeroom, both girls sipping frappucinos out of Lima Bean cups.

"She's not playing with a full deck," Buffy continued, her ponytail bouncing, "She has almost no deck. She has a three."

"She killed one, didn't she?"

"No, she wailed on one for eternity before I finally put him out of his misery."

Tina sighed. "It sounds like she just got a little carried away. Maybe she's putting all her energy into slaying because she doesn't really have a life in this town yet."

"She doesn't need a life. She has mine."

"Buffy, I think you're being a little-"

"No, I'm being a lot," Buffy sighed in defeat, "I know. But she nearly got us both killed. I mean, they were a serious pack of vamps. Really hell-bent on fighting a couple of girls. The one who almost bit me kept talking about kissing toast. He lived for kissing toast."

Tina screwed up her face in a mix of confusion and concentration. "Huh?"

"Or maybe it was taquitos."

"Do you mean… Kakistos?"

"Who?" asked Buffy, but Tina had stopped walking, standing still a few steps behind.

"Kakistos," she said under her breath and looked back up at Buffy, alert.

Buffy glanced at her classmates flooding into Homeroom as the bell rang, and turned back to Tina. "Is it something bad?"

"It's Greek. It means worst of the worst," Tina said gravely, and spoke closer to Buffy, "It's also the name of a vampire. Legend says that his hands and feet are cloven, like the devil."

The girl dug her phone out of her pocket, where she'd made dozens of note on demonology into ebooks, and begun flipping through, looking for the right passages. Buffy stuck her tongue in her cheek, mulling an idea over.

"So, this Kakistos guy shows up right around the same time my new bestest little sister comes to town," she noted thoughtfully.

Tina looked up from her phone, curious. "You think he and Kitty are connected?"

"Tina, there are two things I don't believe in. Coincidence and leprechauns."

Tina rolled her dark brown eyes. "It's in the realm of possibility that they just happened to come into your life around the same time."

Buffy pouted. "Okay, but I was right about the leprechauns, right?"

Tina paused. "As far as I know."

"Good. I will get Will to contact Kitty's watcher in England, and I'll talk to Kitty. See if Khaki Trousers-"

"Kakistos."

"Kakistos rings a bell… or an alarm."

xxx

Quinn dragged her backpack into Shelby's office, wearing a too-tight pink day-dress that belonged to Rachel, cinched at the waist with a ripped strip of black cloth, her ashy pink hair in disarray.

"What's up?" she asked, nodding once at the guidance counselor.

Shelby looked up from where she was slouched on her leather swivel chair, a lock of her dark hair hanging loose as she peered over a small stack of stapled papers, her forehead wrinkled in concentration.

"Quinn," she sighed expectantly, dropping the paper on her desk and straightening her posture.

"Mr. Schuester said you wanted to talk to me," the girl said, one hip dropped.

"Yeah, have a seat. I was just looking through some college essays," said Shelby, pushing her hair behind her ears.

Quinn rested her backpack against the side of Shelby's desk and took a seat across from her. "You gonna push some college brochures on me?" she asked.

Shelby smirked and rummaged through the papers on her desk. "Maybe. I wanted to talk to you about this."

She found a newspaper page amongst her other paperwork. It was just the front page of the school newspaper, with Rachel's image blazing across the front. Quinn widened her eyes a little.

"Am I in trouble for a stupid article?" she asked, "What's the big deal? Everybody liked it, and Marcie got her date with Puck. It's just a school newspaper-"

"Quinn, you're not in trouble," Shelby laughed, raising a hand, "Don't jump into defensive mode."

Quinn sat back. "Oh. Okay."

"Why didn't you tell me you could write?"

Quinn frowned down at the newspaper. "I can't. I mean… I don't. I'm good at English, but it's not something I announce to people."

"You never thought about being a writer or a journalist?"

Quinn shrugged. "I won a few writing competitions in elementary school but my parents always said that most writers were unemployed, liberal tree-huggers."

"Well, I know you've been on the fence about most of the colleges I've recommended, but OSU-Lima offers scholarships for English majors-"

Quinn scoffed. "Thanks, but I'm not really interested in staying in Lima."

Shelby nodded. "I know, you're thinking about moving to New York with Rachel. Look, I'm not trying to stop you from going, but I think at this point in the year, you really need to think about your future. Not your future with Rachel. You have to think about what you want out of life and how you're going to get that, regardless of anyone else's plans."

Quinn pursed her lips and stared thoughtfully at the surface of Shelby's desk. Truthfully, she didn't spend a lot of time thinking about what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go after high school. She'd been looking at it like a choice between moving for Rachel or staying for Beth. She didn't really know what she wanted to do when she took other people out of the equation.

"And while I have this brochure, you may as well look at the scholarship. See if you'd like to apply," said Shelby, interrupting her from her thought as she slid a thick brochure for OSU-Lima's scholarships across the desk.

"Thanks," Quinn said, taking it, "I'll think about it."

Shelby smiled. "That's all I ask."

Quinn clutched her bag and walked back into the hallway, her eyes scanning the glossy front of the brochure. They tried so hard to make OSU look Ivy league, with red brick and fountains in the courtyards.

"Quinn!"

Quinn snapped her head up to see Rachel bounding toward her in a pair of well-worn black booties, her arms wide open. Quinn grunted as her girlfriend tackled her with a hug, a crumpled newspaper tight in one of her fists.

"Rachel?" Quinn smiled as the brunette pulled back and shook her hair out of her face.

"I read the article," she smiled, "And I've decided that you're the best girlfriend on the face of the universe."

Quinn glanced at the newspaper in Rachel's hand and grinned. "You like it?"

"Of course I like it, Quinn!" Rachel gushed, "The way you talk about me is so beautiful it made me fall in love with myself all over again."

Quinn laughed. "Hopefully it rubs off on everybody else. I really want you to win this thing."

"I think it's working," Rachel said, clenching her fists in excitement, "Morgan Ru said she's voting for me!"

"Morgan said that?" Quinn widened her eyes, "Well, you know, if Morgan's voting for you, all of the other Cheerios are. So, now you have glee club, and the Cheerios, and all of their football boyfriends-"

"Oh, Quinn, this is so wonderful!"

"Yeah, now you won't have to kill yourself with this campaign."

"Oh, there's still plenty of work to do."

Quinn's smile faded. "There is?"

"Of course. Now that the Cheerios see me as a real leader, I need to change all of my policies. I need to find funding for competitive clubs and I need to organize more pep rallies and-"

"Rachel, Rachel," Quinn sighed, waving her hands, "Can't you just chill out, for a second? You've got this."

Rachel nodded. "You're right. Let's go to lunch, somewhere else. Somewhere nice."

Quinn smiled. "Food court at the Lima Mall?"

Rachel grinned, rolling her eyes. "Sure. The food court. My treat, okay? You deserve it for being so supportive."

Quinn shrugged and looped her arm into Rachel's, stuffing her brochure into the side-pocket of her backpack as they walked out of school together.

xxx

"Hi!"

Buffy whirled around in the hallway she had been storming down to see Joe had caught up to her in his leather sandals, a wide smile on his earnest face.

"Joe," Buffy raised her eyebrows, "Hey."

"How are you?" he asked politely, still smiling, eager.

"Uh, fine. Look, I have to-"

"I know, be somewhere else," he said quickly, "Just think of this as my last ditch effort. I realize that any more following you around and I'll be considered a stalker. But I was thinking you, and me, and coffee. Or maybe a Hitchcock festival playing at Lima Fields all this weekend. My parents never let me watch horror movies so now I'm rebelling with some old school thrillers."

Buffy started grinning. "You know what? Come to think of it, I haven't really given a fair chance to Hitchcock. I like what I've seen of him so far so… maybe it'd be nice to see a little more."

Joe smiled even wider and breathed out heavily, like he was relieved. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. I, uh, got you something."

Buffy wrinkled her brow as he rummaged in his knapsack and removed a small pink jewellery box. "Joe…"

"It's not a big deal. I got it at this cool vintage thrift shop downtown. The shop-owner said it signifies friendship. I wanted you to have it."

He handed her the jewellery box and she opened it, her smile falling when she saw the Claddagh ring inside. The heart, hands and crown cast in silver that looked almost identical to the one she hid under her pillow. Her hands went slack at the sight of it and the box fell to the floor, the ring clattering onto the ground.

"I can't," Buffy snapped, as Joe bent down to retrieve the box and ring, "I can't do this."

Joe looked crestfallen as he stood back up. "Okay," he said under his breath, "I get the message."

He walked away, leaving Buffy to stare at the ground on her own, the air on her skin making her shudder.

"Buffy-"

Buffy shook as a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up to see that Sam had approached her, his blond hair falling over one eye as he looked down at her with concern.

"Sam, hi…" she breathed, sniffling, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You look a little… frazzled," he noted, his brow still pulled.

"It's okay," Buffy shrugged, breathing through her nose, "It's nice to see you, though. Outside of glee club."

"Yeah," he sighed, looking guilty, "I know I haven't hung out with the scoobies much lately. I just… I think being your friend might make Mercedes uncomfortable-"

"No, I get it. That's fine. I just… I guess I'm confused. Last year, you said you might be moving. What happened?"

Sam nodded. "My parents moved, but I stayed. I'm actually staying with Puck."

"Really? Why did you decide to stay?"

Sam hesitated, and shrugged. "I didn't want to leave Mercedes."

Buffy opened her mouth, but couldn't think of a reply, a little floored. "So, how fast did you move on, exactly?"

Sam frowned. "Buffy, that's not fair-"

"No, I know. I know it's not, I knew it as soon as I said it. I'm sorry. It's just been so… Look, I have to go. I'll talk to you later, maybe."

"Buffy…" Sam trailed off as she walked briskly away.

She rounded the corner and bumped right into Mr. Schuester, who spilled a drop of coffee from his World's Best Teacher mug.

"Whoa, Buffy, hey," he greeted her, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Really? You look really tired-"

"I am, so just… What's up?" she asked, sighing heavily with her hands on her hips.

"Tina told me about Kakistos."

"Oh, yeah. Did she find anything?" Buffy asked, alert, and happy to have a distraction.

"Not that I know of, but I managed to contact to watchers' retreat in the Cotswolds."

"Did you talk to Kitty's watcher?"

Will sighed. "No, I didn't."

"Well, why not?"

"Buffy, her watcher's dead."