Chapter 87

The Queen

"I am excited to announce this year's homecoming queen is…"

Buffy and Morgan glanced at each other, biting their bottom lips in equal giddiness as the rest of the gymnasium waited with baited breath for Principal Figgins to finish his sentence.

"...Quinn Fabray!"

The girls' faces fell as they, and everyone at the homecoming dance, snapped their heads toward the small table draped in a blue paper where Quinn was sitting. Her eyes were trained on the stage in front of her, incredulous. Rachel smiled proudly, knowingly, and the others widened their eyes and looked at their blonde friend, caught between cheering for her and being completely flummoxed. A spotlight found Quinn at the table and the band started playing a song called 'Homecoming Queen' that sounded a little melancholy for the occasion.

Quinn glanced at Buffy, her eyebrows knitted together, and stood from the table after Rachel's prodding. She made her way through the crowd to tepid applause and reached the stage, where Figgins and his secretary placed a tiara over her blonde updo, fitted a sash that said 'Homecoming Queen '13' over her dress and gave her a plastic scepter to hold. Quinn stared at it in her hand for a moment before looking out at the crowd and giving them a coy smile, which garnered just a little more enthusiasm for her classmates. She met Rachel on the dance floor for the queen's first dance and the rest of the partygoers joined in, some slow dancing and some hopping around to the song's pop rock beat.

"I don't get it," Quinn shook her head.

"What?" Rachel asked, one arm around Quinn's waist, one hand on her shoulder.

Quinn furrowed her brow down at her girlfriend. "Did you do this?"

Rachel smirked. "One of the perks of being co-class vice president is counting the votes for homecoming."

Quinn widened her green eyes. "Rachel! You rigged it? You could get in trouble."

Rachel shrugged. "I've been so preoccupied with the small stuff lately. I'm trying to learn how to see the big picture."

"You know, I didn't need a tiara to make me happy."

"I know. But it's your senior year. I wanted you to have a keepsake."

Quinn smiled warmly down at Rachel, before leaning into her and kissing her pouty bottom lip. She pulled back and said, "I love you."

Rachel's eyes sparkled when she opened them. "I love you, too. Hey, you're coming to New York with me, right?"

Quinn blinked. "Huh?"

"For my interview at NYADA," Rachel smiled, "It's coming soon. Blaine is going with Kurt."

"Oh," Quinn breathed, "Yeah, of course."

Rachel smirked hopefully. "And you can check out NYU. See what the city has in store for you."

"Sure," Quinn nodded and rested her chin on Rachel's shoulder, leaning down into her as the song turned into something sweeter.

xxx

Buffy's red heels made echoes in Santana's suburban luxury condo. She could hear soft thuds coming from the southernmost part of the empty home. The thudding paused when she walked down the hall, but resumed again, and when she'd reached the last room, Santana was inside of it, furiously hitting a punching bag suspended from the lowest point in the ceiling. Buffy hovered near the door, clutching her purse. Santana knew she was there but was taking her sweet time acknowledging it. Buffy cleared her throat and Santana's arms finally dropped down to her sides. She glanced at the slayer, one dark eyebrow raising, in a red sports bra and black yoga pants.

"So, I'm guessing 'Fight Club' was your homecoming theme," she said.

Buffy smirked. The quip didn't carry much of Santana's old fervor - there was a tinge of weariness in everything she said now - but at least she was making jokes.

"I got into a little trouble before the dance. Same old, same old," Buffy shrugged, "Sorry I've been a little M.I.A. lately."

Santana shrugged and took a seat on the couch that was awkwardly placed in the middle of the large, open space. "You're not obligated to come around, you know."

Buffy frowned. "I've just been preoccupied. I've been… running for homecoming queen."

Santana almost smiled. "Did you win?"

"No. Quinn did."

"Surprise, surprise."

"It was, actually. She's a lot different since you last saw her."

Santana frowned down at her lap. Buffy considered walking toward her, sitting down, putting a hand on her shoulder. But she didn't do any of that.

"I don't really care, though," Buffy shrugged, her stomach in knots, "I don't even know why I was running. I think I just wanted to go back to who I used to be before slaying and moving to Lima and… you."

Santana wrinkled her nose and looked up at the slayer.

"No offense," Buffy sighed, "Just, it's already been so hard, coming back to school after everything that happened this year. And now that you're back… I'm glad you're back. I am. But it's hard. I can't tell anyone else because I don't know how they'd react and I don't know where we're supposed to go from here and I guess I just wanted one night where I could be clean and shiny and, well, look how that turned out-"

"Oh, spare me," Santana rolled her eyes.

Buffy stared at her for a moment with her mouth open. "Excuse me?"

Santana stood from the couch and put her hand to her hips, staring at the thick curtains stapled tightly to the windows. "I get that it's been hard for you and I'm glad that you're dating boys and caring about high school and doing whatever you have to do to go back to being Malibu Barbie, including sweeping me under the rug, if that's what you have to do, but I don't need to hear about it."

Buffy balked. "Santana, I didn't mean to-"

"Flatter yourself?" she asked, looking at the slayer, "It might surprise you, but I don't sit around wondering, 'Gee, why hasn't Buffy come around lately?' or, 'I wonder if Buffy has been coping with the fact that I just came back from Hell after becoming evil and killing people.' I killed Ms. Pillsbury and I killed Brittany's dad and I tortured Tina, but no, I hope you're doing everything you can to go back to normal."

Buffy gaped at the vampire, who was glaring heatedly back at her. She was about to apologize again before Santana's brow buckled, her lip quivered, and she burst into tears. Buffy almost dropped her clutch, so surprised that the vampire was crying. Santana put a hand over her crumpled face as she continued to sob. Buffy tossed her purse on the couch and walked forward, putting her arm over the vampire and pulling into a hug, trying desperately to hold her together.

xxx

"Let go. Imagine your world and be in control of it. Imagine the smells. The colors. Imagine what you're wearing. Relax. This is where you belong. You can navigate through the corners of your mind to find exactly what you need. Don't be afraid. Be calm. Be in control."

"I'm bored."

"Shut up. Be calm. Be relaxed. Feel the breath leave your body, in and out. Be at peace."

"This is insanely boring."

"Be quiet."

"I'm going to blow my brains out, right now. I'm going to go into Mr. Hummel Figurine's bedroom, find his sawed-off shotgun, and blow my brains out of my skull."

"Sebastian, shut up!"

Kurt snapped his eyes open. His head had been rested on Quinn's lap, which he felt tense and twitch every time she snapped at Sebastian. He lifted himself up off of where he'd been lying on his bedroom floor and let his eyes adjust to the dim flicker of candles.

"This isn't working," he grumbled.

"Thank you!" Sebastian smirked, "I told her she was going about this all wrong."

"This isn't working because of you," Quinn glared at the boy, "If you'd just shut up and let me work-"

"So you can do what? Get him to astral project over to his mommy so he can ask her the secrets of the universe? Good luck with that."

Kurt rolled his eyes and stood up, padding over to his light-switch beside the bedroom door and illuminating the room. "It's both of you."

"What?" Quinn wrinkled her nose.

"It's gonna be a problem if you guys can't get along long enough for us to spend one hour together," Kurt grumbled.

"No, I'll tell you the problem," Sebastian smirked and took a seat at Kurt's desk, spinning around in the swivel chair so that he was facing the both of them, "It's all about your method. It's very slow-and-steady-wins-the-race. Only, that's just a story we tell children so that they don't go chasing waterfalls, half-cocked. If we want to do this, let's do this."

Quinn rolled her eyes and sighed, still sitting cross-legged on the carpet. "What are you suggesting?"

Sebastian smiled wider. "My youngest aunt got married last year, to an anthropologist. They had a destination wedding, with my grandfather's money. India. It was Hell getting over there, but otherwise, it was great. And, as a plus, I finally had a chance to troll the markets of a different culture. You can get a whole lot more over there and the supply is a lot better, let me tell you that."

"Supply of what?" asked Kurt.

Sebastian leaned back in the desk chair and smiled smugly, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket. He removed his hand, producing a thin metal chain wrapped around his forefinger. At the end of the chain was an ornate, steel triangle with runes cut out of it to show its hollow insides.

"You can't get something like this in any old Ohio magic shop," Sebastian smiled.

"What is it?" Quinn asked, curling her upper lip, using apprehension to mask jealousy.

"Psyche's talisman," Sebastian replied, and then shrugged, "That's what they call it, anyways. There's a Made In Bangalore label at the bottom so whether or not it was actually used by a Greek goddess is debateable. Doesn't mean it doesn't work."

"What does it do?" asked Kurt.

"It acts as a Vessel. Something that can trap loose magical energy. Like souls."

Kurt and Quinn leaned in to get a good look at the triangular talisman, very interested.

"How does it work?" asked Kurt.

"Well, like any other vessel."

"Explain," Quinn said glibly.

"Vessels are living things that can possess magical energy. Like us. Quinn and I use magic. You're harboring your dead mom's soul. One and the same, basically. The theory is that vessels are like sponges. When we use our magical energy, it floats out of us, but with nowhere else to go, it soaks right back in."

"But if I use my powers around the talisman, it'll trap the magic," Kurt said, finishing Sebastian's theory.

"And since the magic is Elizabeth's soul, we have a way to trap it and put it back together," said Quinn.

"Bingo," Sebastian smirked.

Quinn sat upright and quirked her eyebrow at the trinket. "So your idea is to get Kurt to use his powers while wearing the talisman as a necklace and trap his mother's soul in it?"

"Are you still soaking in the brilliance of my plan?"

"Then what?"

"'Then what' what?"

"Then what do we do after we trap Elizabeth's soul? Like, what about the other part of her soul? The part that's missing."

Sebastian frowned. "Well, I don't know. I figured we were taking this step-by-step. We get the powers out of Kurt, then find the rest of her soul, then figure out a way to send her off to the great auto shop in the sky."

"But how do you get the energy back out of the talisman?" asked Quinn.

"What?"

"Well, Kurt will use his powers and the talisman will absorb the soul, but the talisman is an inanimate object that can't utilize the soul, so how do you get it back out?"

Kurt's gaze darted between the two Wiccans. It was a valid question that he never would have thought about asking.

"I… I'm sure we can find a way," Sebastian smirked.

"Maybe we should find a way before we experiment our new shiny toys on Kurt."

"Yeah, maybe that's a good idea," said Kurt, beginning to look uneasy.

Sebastian pursed his lips and gave Quinn a disdainful glare, before turning to Kurt. "Look, we can do this as slow-and-steady as you want, little tortoise, but let me tell you from experience that this is not the way to win the race. You want to help your mom, you've to dive right in."

xxx

"'And on that tragic day, an era came to its inevitable end.' That's it. Are you ready?"

Buffy leaned over a picnic table in McKinley courtyard, her freshly sharpened pencil poised over a practise exam. "Hit me," she said, determinedly staring at Tina, who sat across the way from her.

"Which of the following best expresses the theme of the passage? A, violence breeds violence. B, all things must end. C,-" Tina recited from a thick booklet.

"B!" Buffy exclaimed, filling out a little circle in her Scantron sheet, the dull sun shining on her silver nail polish, "We haven't had a B in forever."

Tina set the booklet down on the picnic table and sighed. "Buffy, you have to read each answer carefully. This is the SATs. You have to do a lot better than you did in the practise tests last year if you want to get into college."

"No pressure," Buffy frowned down at her sheet of paper, "I don't even see why I need to go to college."

"Buffy!" Tina gasped, "Don't say that! Education is one of the most important things in the world."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm ever going to be a lawyer or a doctor or something worth doing, you know? I'm going to be in Lima for the rest of my probably short life, slaying."

"And that's not worth doing?"

Buffy pouted. "It's going to be just me," she said dejectedly, tossing her pencil on the table, "You're moving to England. Everyone else is going to New York. Mike is Harvard-bound."

"Finn and Puck are going to OSU-Lima!" Tina pointed out, enthused.

"Oh, yeah. Me, Finn and Puck, the three amigos," Buffy said sarcastically, "You know, I don't think Puck has ever actually gotten my name right in the three years I've known him."

"Well, this can be your chance to get to know them better. And to make new friends! Besides, you know I'll always keep in touch. I've always wanted to send old-fashioned, hand-written letters, I just never had anyone to send them to. And you're cracked if you don't think Rachel is going to keep us constantly updated on her road to stardom with Facebook posts and emails and pictures. Everything's going to be so totally the same."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at her friend.

Tina shrugged. "Okay. It's going to be completely different. But different doesn't mean bad. We're going to miss each other like crazy, but you can't throw away a rite of passage like this just because it's new and scary. Besides, you're not the only slayer anymore."

Buffy's shoulders lifted and she breathed in deep. "You're right. I can make this work. I can be slayer girl and college girl. I'm so sick of missing these big moments, like homecoming. I made such a huge deal out of it and missed almost the entire thing."

Tina shrugged. "You didn't miss a lot."

"Oh, no? You didn't have fun with Artie?"

Tina squirmed in her seat. "Actually, I didn't end up going to the dance with Artie."

Buffy frowned. "What? Why not?"

Tina blushed. "This is so stupid. I just… I was getting ready that night, before the dance, and I kept imagining Mike dancing with Morgan, and being the homecoming king to her queen, and… God, if I had seen him kiss her, I would have died."

Buffy frowned sympathetically. "You're still really into him, huh?"

Tina shrugged. "I'm trying not to be. But imagining him with someone else hurts so much more than I ever could have expected. And then I kept picturing me, showing up to the dance with Artie. How would that have looked? Like some desperate attempt to make Mike jealous by showing up with my sophomore crush. The last thing I wanted to see was a look of pity on Mike's face. That would have been the worst."

Buffy knitted her brow. "So, to prove you didn't care about Mike, you ditched your plans with Artie, because of how it would look to Mike."

"I told you it was stupid!" Tina whined, "God, Buffy, I'm so done. I just want to be over him now. I thought I was so close, too, but then he came and talked to me at the dance."

"What did he say?"

"He was talking about getting back together."

Buffy bugged her eyes out. "And you said no?"

"Buffy, I don't want to deal with all of this all over again when he leaves for Harvard and I leave for London. I can't do it again."

Buffy nodded. "You're right. How did he take it?"

"He was understanding. He always is. But he needs a friend. He's having problems with his dad."

"Isn't he always?"

"It sounds different now. He says his dad is acting really secretive. Mike thinks he might be having an affair."

Buffy wrung her hands together. "Poor Mike. Does this mean you guys are really friends now?"

"I guess so," Tina shrugged, "I mean, he really needs someone to confide in and just because we're broken up doesn't mean we don't care about each other."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, "I know what you mean."

Buffy mind floated back to Santana and her outburst of tears the other night, just as Rachel came ambling along to their table with a heavy cardboard box in her arms.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, ladies," she said as she let the box thud down on the table.

"What's in the box?" asked Tina.

"Candy," Rachel replied gingerly, smoothing down her sweet pink cardigan.

"Ooh, candy for us?" Buffy asked, reaching for the unmarked box.

"No," Rachel said, quickly slapping her hand down on the box, only to open it up one-handed and produce a thin, generic candy bar wrapped up in red paper, "We're selling chocolate, for theater club. This way, we can pay for supplies for sets and props without dipping into the glee club fund."

"Where did you get all of it?" asked Tina.

"It was a charitable donation from a non-profit organization," Rachel smiled, "They send out these candy bars to public schools all over the midwest in support of the arts. However much we make selling this chocolate, they double it!"

"Where do they get the money?" Tina raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"What am I, chairman of the board?" Rachel snorted, "I don't know how they do it but my dad's a lawyer so if they back out on their agreement, we can sue."

"So everyone in the play has to sell these candy bars?" Buffy asked, wrinkling her nose.

She liked the idea of the theater club and the glee club getting as much funding as possible, but between SAT prep, slaying and Santana, she just didn't have the energy for girl scouting.

"Well, not everyone," Rachel shrugged, "As you know, mine and Kurt's informal interviews at NYADA are this Friday. The two of us, plus Quinn and Blaine, are taking a Greyhound up to New York on Thursday night so we can get a hotel and have the whole big city experience. I've sold a good amount of bars to my dads already, but I'm leaving it up to you two to lead the glee club in selling the rest while we're in New York."

Buffy grimaced. "Why can't we just sell them when you guys get back?"

"The deadline is Saturday."

"Saturday?!"

"It's short notice, I know, but I believe in you guys," Rachel smiled sweetly, "Besides, we stand to get a lot of funding out of this. So don't screw it up."

xxx

Puck strode through the halls in his jeans and white t-shirt, broad shoulders knocking into passing classmates. He reached for the mostly glass door of Shelby's office and despite his hardened frown, his heart picked up just a little when he saw her dark hair falling over one side of her face as she signed the bottom of a piece of paper in her loopy handwriting. He opened the door and knocked half-heartedly at the frame, making Shelby snap her head up in his direction. Her eyes warmed for a second before she remembered she had an appointment with him.

"Puck. Have a seat," she said calmly, shuffling her paperwork out of the way.

Puck took a seat opposite Shelby and leaned back, spread-legged, glancing at the wall.

"You want to tell me why you're in here?" asked Shelby, clasping her hands together on the desk.

Puck shrugged. "Figgins said I had to."

"Mm-hm. And why did he say that?"

Puck sighed. "Because I got caught spray-painting the side of the gym."

Shelby looked tired. "Usually when a kid gets caught vandalizing the school, they get detention. Maybe have to paint over it on the weekend. But Figgins sent you to talk to me because the both of us agreed that this behavior wasn't just against the rules, but a reason for concern."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I spray-paint stuff when I'm bored. It's not new."

"Exactly. This is old behavior. Behavior you would have exhibited when you were a sophomore or even a junior. Not now, after you've been doing so well. Getting a scholarship. Winning homecoming king."

Puck rolled his eyes again.

Shelby sighed. "Puck, what's going on? Why are you acting out?"

Puck kicked out his leg. "I'm just bored. I'm tired of high school and then college is going to another four years down the drain."

"What do you mean 'down the drain'?" asked Shelby.

"I just want to get out on my own. Get my own place and a full-time job. Be the kind of man my dad could never be. I'm sick of feeling like a kid. So I win a dumb plastic crown, who cares?"

"Puck, these are important moments in your life. You're never going to get to be a teenager again."

"Good. Being a teenager sucks. Everyone expects you to act like an adult but they treat you like a child. I'm sick of being treated like a kid."

Shelby smirked wearily. "There's nothing that says 'teenager' more than wishing you were an adult. Puck, have you considered the fact that vandalizing your high school isn't something an adult would do?"

Puck frowned sourly. "Yeah, I know," he sighed, defeated.

"If you really want to be a better man than your father was, you'll stick this year out. Get your diploma. Go to college and experience the kinds of things you'll wish you'd appreciated when you're my age."

Puck just stared sternly back at her. "Yeah. Okay."

Shelby leaned forward, sympathetic. "I know it feels like a lifetime before you're going to get to be the person you want to be, but you'll never be that person if you don't spend this time laying down your foundation."

"So I've heard."

"I'm serious. I want Beth to have a strong father figure in her life and I want that to be you."

Puck perked up at this, the image of his daughter's cherub face appearing in his mind. "Yeah, you're right. Look, I'm sorry about all this. You won't see me back here for the rest of the year, okay?"

"Oh, you know I don't mind your company," she smiled, "Just don't get into anymore trouble."

xxx

Will drew a red circle around a B- and scribbled 'good work' underneath. He'd spent the better part of yesterday evening doing research on Al Motta, coming up short for a criminal record, phone number or even an address. All he had were newspaper articles chronicling Mr. Motta's charitable donations and philanthropic activities. Only now, at lunch, had he decided to hole up in his office and grade quizzes for freshman Spanish that were due later that day.

He shoveled a mouthful of tuna salad sandwich into his mouth as he went onto grading the next quiz. Someone opened his office door. He'd been expecting Buffy but when he looked up, Terri was smiling over at him in her school nurse uniform, crisp white skirt ending just above her knees.

"Terri," he said, surprised, quickly swallowing his mouthful of bread and tuna and sitting back in his chair, resting his red pen down on the slowly dwindling stack of papers, "Can I help you?"

"I was just going to lunch and I wanted to ask if you'd like to join me," Terri said hopefully, smiling as wide as ever.

Will ran his tongue over his wisdom teeth, taken aback by the offer. The two of them had been kinder, friendlier to each other after their tragic summers, but they'd never spent time together outside of school. Not since the divorce, and not voluntarily.

"Thanks, Terri, but I'm way behind on grading papers. I'm just going to eat here."

Terri pouted. "Will, when was the last time you ate a real meal?"

Will hesitated to answer.

"I know what you get like when you're unhappy," Terri frowned, "You don't eat right. You bury yourself in work. Come on, come to lunch with me and eat some real food. My treat."

Will raised an eyebrow and glanced at the miniature photo frame sitting on his desk, of Emma in the botanical gardens, her red hair gathered by the breeze, looking as beautiful as the day they met and the day she died.

"No, thank you, Terri. It's a really nice offer but… I'm busy. And you don't have to worry about me, or take care of me, really. It's not your responsibility anymore."

"I know," she replied, a little crestfallen, "I just can't help but be concerned sometimes."

"And I appreciate it," said Will, smiling crookedly, "How about a rain check?"

Terri smiled and nodded. "Sure," she said, turning a little to leave the room when she bumped into Buffy, who was walking in with a cardboard box under her arm.

"Oh, sorry," the slayer said flatly, looking Terri up and down before glancing at Will, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No. I was just leaving," said Terri.

"You want a candy bar?"

"Huh?" Terri wrinkled her nose.

"A candy bar. We're selling them to raise money for the school play. They're only a buck."

"Oh, sure," Terri shrugged and removed a dollar from the large pocket in the front of her uniform, "Chocolate makes me break out in zits but I can spring to support the arts."

"Thanks," Buffy mumbled, exchanging a candy bar for the dollar and glancing at Terri as she trotted away, "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Will said quickly as Buffy dumped the box on the edge of his desk, "She was just inviting me to lunch."

"Terri the Terrible was inviting you to lunch?" the slayer asked, skeptical, "Did you guys forget about the time she almost got me killed?"

Will pursed his lips. "No, but she's actually been very supportive after everything that happened before the summer."

Buffy looked sheepishly at the floor. "Right. So, what are you working on?"

"Grading papers."

"Did you get anywhere with Sugar's dad?"

"No," Will sighed, "It's like there's no paper trail or legal trace of Al Motta. That's not unusual for a vampire, but his very human wife and daughter make the situation pretty bizarre."

"What do we do about Sugar?" asked Buffy, "I mean, do we grill her about her dad or pretend like nothing's wrong?"

"I don't know right now," Will sighed, "Al Motta has to know you're still alive by now, but so far he hasn't done much else to make sure you don't reveal him. He doesn't seem to be worried."

"Which means we should be worried."

"We should definitely be on guard. Right now, go about your business. Study. Patrol. Basically lay low until we can decide on our next move."

"Alright," Buffy sighed, and glanced at her box of candy bars, "Hey, you want to buy some chocolate?"

Will smirked. "Isn't that kind of redundant?"

"Oh, come on, Rachel's going to expect me to commit harakiri if I don't sell them all."

"So go door to door like the other kids in glee club."

"Will," Buffy whined, "Let's be honest. I'm not like other kids in glee club. I don't exactly have the time or the energy to make a visit to every house in my neighborhood and you don't want me to get a big fat zero on my SATs, do you?"

Will rolled his eyes and took out his wallet.