Chapter 4: Teacher's Pet

March 23, 1997 – Sunday

Club Venus

Club Venus glowed invitingly with its vibrant pink neon lights, casting a warm and welcoming aura that enveloped the bustling street. Buffy made her way back to the bar, her steps filled with a quiet confidence and a sense of belonging. The familiar doorman, recognizing her as a regular, greeted her with a friendly nod, a silent acknowledgement of their shared connection. With a smile, she entered the lively establishment, immediately drawn to the pulsating energy and unwavering acceptance that permeated the air.

As Buffy approached the bar, her eyes scanned the room, seeking the familiar faces that had become her chosen family. Peaches, Shadow, and Rochelle, sitting in their usual spots, turned their heads in unison, their expressions transforming into radiant smiles of pure joy upon spotting Buffy's presence.

"Buffy! Welcome back, darling!" Peaches exclaimed; her voice filled with genuine affection as she extended a hand for a warm handshake.

"Hey there!" Buffy replied, her own smile widening. "It's good to be back."

The bartender, well-acquainted with Buffy's preferences, skillfully prepared her favorite drink—a vibrant and refreshing banana daiquiri. Placing it before her with a knowing smile, he received a nod of appreciation from Buffy, silently conveying her gratitude for his attentiveness.

Taking a seat next to her friends, Buffy sank into the plush cushion, feeling the comfort of camaraderie wash over her. The drag queens at Club Venus had become her chosen family, a supportive and understanding group who embraced her unconditionally for the girl she knew herself to be. It was within these walls that she found the acceptance and love she had rarely experienced elsewhere.

The music throbbed through the club, its infectious beat pulsating with life. Laughter and animated conversation blended seamlessly with the melodic tunes, creating an atmosphere of pure enjoyment and liberation. In this haven, Buffy's worries and battles faded into the background as she immersed herself in the carefree ambiance, dancing to the rhythm of her own authenticity.

Peaches leaned in, the vibrant pink wig framing her face as she spoke. "So, Buffy, any new adventures in the world of slaying?" she asked playfully, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Buffy chuckled, the sound ringing with a mix of lightness and resilience. "Oh, you know how it goes. Vampires, demons, the usual," she replied, taking a sip of her daiquiri. "But tonight, I'm here to unwind and let loose. No supernatural drama, just some good times with my favorite queens."

Shadow raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, we'll make sure to show you a night to remember, sweetheart," she teased, her voice filled with a playful promise.

Rochelle nodded, her warm smile reflecting the depth of her admiration. "You deserve it, Buffy. You've faced so much, and it's inspiring to see you find solace and joy in a place like this," she expressed, her words carrying a heartfelt sincerity.

Buffy's heart swelled with gratitude, feeling the weight of their support and understanding. Club Venus had become her sanctuary—a space where she could freely express her true self, unburdened by fear or judgment. It was a respite from the constant battles and responsibilities that weighed on her shoulders, a haven where she could celebrate her identity and revel in the beauty of her existence.

As the night unfolded, Buffy surrendered herself to the music's enchantment. She danced with abandon, her movements guided by the intoxicating rhythm that filled the air. In the company of Peaches, Shadow, Rochelle, and the vibrant community of Club Venus, she found solace, acceptance, and a temporary escape from the shadows that loomed outside those walls.

In the midst of the pulsating lights and joyous energy, Buffy felt truly alive. Club Venus had become her second home, a place where she was not just the Chosen One burdened with a destiny, but also a girl who deserved to experience the boundless beauty of life. And surrounded by the love, support, and unwavering spirit of her chosen family, she discovered the strength to face whatever challenges awaited her beyond the sanctuary of Club Venus, knowing that she was never alone on her journey.

March 24, 1997 – Monday

Sunnydale High School

"Xander, you've got a little . . ." Buffy said, indicating her chin.

Xander blinked as he wiped at his chin, following her gaze to the spot she had indicated.

Turning her attention back to Dr. Gregory's slideshow, Buffy settled herself at the black Formica lab table that she shared with Blayne Mall, the football star who possessed both brains and decent grades, although not as outstanding as they could have been. For Blayne, sports were his life, and school merely a necessary evil.

With a decisive click, Dr. Gregory switched off the slide projector, allowing the lights to illuminate the classroom once again. As expected, half the students appeared as though they had just been roused from a deep slumber. Dr. Gregory enjoyed using slideshows, not so much for their educational value, but to gauge who among his students was truly engaged. Willow, naturally, was fully alert. Xander, her lab partner, on the other hand, seemed lost in his own world.

To his disappointment, even Blayne, who sat at the table next to Buffy, appeared disinterested. What surprised him, however, was Buffy's attentiveness. Principal Flutie had shared her transcripts, revealing the decline in her grades at Hemery and reports of her involvement in fights. But observing her now, Dr. Gregory could see a genuine thirst for knowledge in her eyes.

Walking down the aisle between the rows of lab tables, he addressed the class, his gaze landing on Buffy. "Now, if you read the homework," he said, noting several students squirming uncomfortably, "you should know the two ways that ants communicate. Mr. Summers?"

Buffy looked up, a smile gracing her face. "Touch and smell," she answered confidently.

A glance at Willow confirmed her approval. "Correct, Mr. Summers," Dr. Gregory acknowledged.

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. The sound of stools scraping against linoleum echoed through the room as students prepared to rush off to their next classes. "All right, chapters six through eight by tomorrow, people," Dr. Gregory called out, his voice rising above the commotion. He turned to Buffy. "Can I see you for a moment?"

As the other students filed out, Buffy remained in her seat, and Dr. Gregory noticed Blayne calling out to a girl in the hallway. "Cheryl, wait up, doll."

Blayne turned to Xander, a smug grin on his face. "Isn't she something? Do you know what a woman like that wants?" Before Xander could respond, he added, "No, I guess you wouldn't." His gaze shifted toward Buffy. "What about you?"

Buffy chose not to answer, letting the football player walk away with a self-satisfied expression.

Xander, ever the loyal friend, defended himself and Buffy. "Something really cutting!" he retorted. Then, glancing at Willow, he added, "Sometimes I just go with the generic insult."

Willow nodded in agreement. "Why pay more for the brand name?"

After a few moments, the classroom emptied, leaving only Dr. Gregory and Buffy. As he gathered the slides for his next class, he spoke to her. "I understand you faced some difficulties at your previous school."

"Well, what teenager doesn't?" Buffy replied, her voice tinged with resignation.

"Skipping school, getting into fights, even burning down the gymnasium," Dr. Gregory mentioned, checking the slides to ensure they were in order. "Principal Flutie showed me your permanent record." Retrieving his reading glasses from the closet, he continued, "I can't wait to see what you're going to do here, but I suspect it's going to be great."

Buffy appeared confused. "You mean 'great' in a bad way?"

Dr. Gregory smiled, using his tie to clean his glasses. "You have a brilliant mind and quick thinking. It's evident in how you're proving Hemery wrong..."

"Because I did the homework?" Buffy interjected.

"The homework," he affirmed. "Yes. If I may ask, why the turnaround?"

"Um, well, to be honest," Buffy confessed, opting to share a partial truth. "Part of the decline in grades was due to my parents' divorce. I was going through a rough time."

"I see," Dr. Gregory responded sympathetically. "If I may ask. How long has it been?"

"Since just before my expulsion from Hemery," Buffy admitted. "But it was a long time in the coming, they fought for almost as long as I can remember."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, patting Buffy on the arm. "I think you will do just fine here."

"Thank you," Buffy said sincerely, a grateful smile spreading across her face.

Returning the smile, Dr. Gregory concluded, "Chapters six through eight."

With a resolute nod, Buffy left the room, ready to tackle the challenges that awaited her.

The Bronze

The sound of a good rock band filled the air, the music resonating with a lively energy that enveloped the room. It wasn't the aggressive thrash or heavy metal variety, allowing Buffy and Willow to engage in conversation without having to shout over the noise.

Leaning in, Willow asked with a serious expression, "So, what happened after bio class?"

Buffy let out a sigh, reflecting on her encounter with Dr. Gregory. One particular aspect of their conversation had irked her. "Flutie showed him my permanent record," she replied, a touch of frustration in her voice. When she first arrived at Sunnydale High, Principal Flutie had assured her that her past wouldn't matter and that she would have a clean slate. Apparently, that promise had been broken. "But he just wanted to praise me for trying to improve my grades. Although he did ask what caused the decline in the first place."

Surprised, Willow inquired, "What did you tell him?"

"I shared a partial truth," Buffy admitted. "I mentioned my parents' divorce and explained that I was going through a difficult period."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Cordelia Chase, strutting confidently towards Buffy and Willow. "Here lies a problem," the brunette cheerleader declared, eyeing the occupied table. "What used to be my table is now occupied by pitiful losers. Obviously, we'll have to burn it."

Buffy clenched her teeth, recalling her initial encounter with Cordelia when she arrived at Sunnydale High. However, she had quickly fallen out of Cordelia's favor when she stood up for Willow. Surveying the well-etched tabletop, Buffy adopted a mock serious tone. "It's a tragic sight. So many memories here. You and Lawrence, you and Mark, you and John. You spent the better part of your 'J' through 'M' here."

Taken aback by Buffy's unexpected response, Cordelia could only make a noise of frustration before moving on.

"Wow, no comeback," Buffy remarked, impressed by the lack of a snarky retort.

Willow leaned in, explaining, "You touched a sore spot. Lawrence dumped her before she had the chance to dump him. It's a touchy subject."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The Bronze, in Xander's opinion, was much more appealing in his fantasies. For starters, there were usually more girls around. However, in reality, the female presence here had one of two drawbacks: they were either taken or associated with Cordelia. And there she was, Her Royal Creepiness, holding court for her adoring subjects at the coffee bar.

Feeling a bit disheartened, Xander decided to approach the stage. He nodded briefly at the guitarist and lead singer, who responded with a disdainful look, treating him as though he were a dead cockroach before turning his attention elsewhere.

Having already embarrassed himself to some extent, Xander sought out Buffy and Willow. He made his way toward the couches near the coffee bar but found only Blayne and one of his fellow jocks, whose name eluded Xander's memory.

"Seven," Blayne was saying. Initially, Xander assumed they were comparing IQs, but then Blayne added, "Including Cheryl. I'm telling you, though, her sister was looking to make it eight."

"Ooh, Cheryl's sister?" the other jock exclaimed, wide-eyed. "The one in college?"

"Home for the holidays and seeking love. But she's not my type," Blayne remarked. "A girl really needs to have something special to catch my interest."

Without thinking, Xander interjected, "Something like a lobotomy?"

"Xander," Blayne sneered, not amused. "How many times have you actually scored?"

"Well..." Xander hesitated, feeling put on the spot.

"It's just a question," Blayne taunted, sporting an evil smile.

"Are we talking about today or the entire week?" Xander replied, stalling for time. He desperately scanned the room for Buffy and Willow, finally spotting them. "Ah, duty calls."

Swiftly, he approached the two girls as they walked. Looking at Willow, he exclaimed loudly, "Babe!" ensuring that Blayne and his sidekick could hear as he casually put an arm around each of them.

"What are you doing?" Buffy questioned, perplexed.

"Blayne had the audacity to question my manliness," Xander informed his only male friend. "I just want to give him a visual."

Willow held onto Xander tightly. "We'll show him."

Xander turned to give Blayne a thumbs-up, but Blayne simply shook his head, aware that Xander had hit below the belt with his display.

"I don't believe it," Buffy remarked.

"I know," Xander responded. "And after all my conquests—"

Before he could continue, Buffy approached a newcomer who had just entered the club. Xander peered into the shadows, noticing that the man seemed to avoid direct light. He appeared tall and remarkably handsome, with short dark hair and an all-black outfit.

"Who's that?" Xander asked, feeling indignant that Buffy knew someone he didn't.

"I think that's Angelus," Willow replied. "At least, I believe so."

"The vampire who warned us about the Harvest?"

"That's him," Willow confirmed. "I'm almost certain."

Even more indignant, Xander muttered, "Well, he's buff! He never mentioned anything about him being buff."

"Are you jealous?" Willow questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"He's my friend, can't I come to Rutherford's defense if needed?" Xander retorted.

"Of course, you can," Willow agreed, understanding Xander's protective instincts.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Well, look who's here," Buffy greeted Angel, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

"Hi," Angel replied.

"I'd say it's nice to see you, but then we both know that's a big fib, Angelus," Buffy retorted.

"I won't be long," he assured her.

Curiosity piqued, Buffy inquired, "So why are you here?"

Angel glanced at her and remarked, "You're cold." Without hesitation, he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

Buffy looked at him in surprise. "Are you flirting?" Then her gaze shifted to the three fresh, parallel cuts on his arm. Concern crept into her voice as she asked, "What happened?"

"I didn't pay attention," Angel admitted.

"To someone wielding a big fork?" Buffy prodded.

"He's coming. Don't let him corner you. Don't give him a moment's warning. He'll rip your throat out," Angel warned, his words carrying a sense of urgency.

"Why are you being so cryptic?" Buffy questioned; her confusion evident. "You said you wanted to help."

"It's... it's complicated," Angel conceded. "I have to go," he abruptly stated.

Before Buffy could utter a response, he vanished, seamlessly blending into the shadows, leaving her standing there, left with more questions than answers.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Xander observed with a mixture of disbelief and anger as Buffy and Angel engaged in a brief conversation. Moments later, Angel removed his leather jacket and draped it over Buffy's shoulders.

Infuriated, Xander couldn't contain his outrage. "What's with him giving Rutherford his jacket?" he exclaimed, his frustration evident.

"I don't think Rutherford likes him," Willow responded tentatively. "After all, he said he wanted to help, and then after the Harvest, Rutherford hadn't seen him again."

March 25, 1997 – Tuesday

Sunnydale High School

Buffy wandered through the quad alongside Giles, recounting the details of her conversation with Angel. As they approached the brick wall, they noticed Willow engrossed in her biology homework, and Xander approaching from the same direction.

"That's all he said? 'Fork' guy?" Giles inquired, seeking clarification from Buffy.

"Yeah, that's all Angelus mentioned: fork guy," Buffy confirmed.

"I'll see what I can find out," Giles assured her as they arrived at the wall where Willow sat just as Xander also reached it. He looked up at the sky. "God, every day here is the same."

"Bright, sunny, beautiful—how ever can we escape this torment?" Buffy said with a roll of her eyes.

The librarian gave her one of his looks, exchanged good mornings with Xander, then went off to bury himself in the stacks.

Eager to share some good news, Xander immediately began relaying it. "Guess what I just heard in the office? No Dr. Gregory today. So, those of us who neglected our science homework aren't as clueless as we appear." He closed Willow's biology textbook for emphasis.

Curiosity piqued, Buffy asked, "What happened? Is he sick?"

Xander shrugged. "They didn't mention anything about sickness, just that he's missing."

"He's missing?" Buffy repeated, concerned.

Xander frowned. "Well, let me think. The cheerleaders were modeling their new short skirts, I kind of got—" Buffy shot him one of her looks, which, annoyingly, was just like one of Giles's, and Xander grew serious. "Yeah, they said missing. Which is…bad?"

"If something's wrong, yeah," Buffy replied.

Perplexed, Xander felt like he had overlooked something. No biology teacher meant a substitute, which should have meant a free period. Why would it be a cause for worry?

Willow, as always, filled in the gaps. "He's one of the few teachers who doesn't suspect Rutherford of any wrongdoing."

Attempting sincerity, Xander replied, "I'm genuinely sorry. I'm sure he'll—Iya huh huh huh!"

Buffy followed Xander's line of sight to see what had distracted him, only to be captivated by a sight that sent her hormones into overdrive. Part of her cursed the reaction of her body, the plight of being a girl trapped in a boy's body. The rest of her, however, couldn't deny the overwhelming attraction she felt toward the woman walking down the quad's pathway.

To Buffy's astonishment and delight, the woman approached her and Xander. "Could either of you help me?" she asked, her voice melodic with a slight hint of an accent, enough to sound intriguingly exotic without being easily identifiable.

All coherent thought abandoned Buffy as her attention fixated solely on the woman standing before her. If asked, she couldn't be certain if she could even recall her own name, either her deadname or her chosen name.

"Uhhh—" Xander stammered.

"Yes," Buffy interjected, barely able to form a coherent response.

"I'm looking for Science 109," the woman continued.

"Oh," Buffy murmured, her mind consumed by the woman's presence. She couldn't recall the location of Science 109 to save her life.

"Um—" Xander added. "I go there every day," he chuckled nervously.

"So, do I," Buffy chimed in, turning to Willow. "Oh God, where is it?"

Before anyone could provide an answer, Blayne stepped into their conversation. "Hi, I'm Blayne Mall. I'm heading there right now. It's not far from the varsity field where I took all-city last year."

"Oh, thank you, Blayne," the woman expressed her gratitude. Blayne proceeded to guide her toward the main building, giving Xander and Buffy friendly pats on the shoulder as he walked past.

"It's funny," Xander commented to Willow, while Buffy nodded in agreement. "How the earth never seems to open up and swallow you when you want it to."

Unsympathetic, Willow wore a smile on her face. "Come on," she said, rising from her spot. "I'll take you both to Science 109. And if you want, one of you can drop breadcrumbs along the way so you both won't get lost if someone asks you for directions again."

"Ha, ha," Buffy responded, her tone tinged with sarcasm, as the three of them made their way to the biology class.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy observed the woman standing at the front of the class. Taking her seat, Buffy watched as the woman, Ms. Natalie French, wrote her name on the blackboard.

As the final bell rang, the class settled down, ready to begin. Ms. French introduced herself, explaining that she would be substituting for Dr. Gregory. Willow spoke up, "Do you know when he's coming back?"

"No, I don't, um—" Ms. French consulted her seating chart, focusing on Willow. "Willow, they just call and tell me where they want me."

"I'll tell you where I want you." Blayne muttered under his breath, catching Buffy's attention.

Curious, Ms. French asked, "Excuse me, Blayne?"

Buffy thought to herself, 'Of course, you don't need to check the chart for him. Just because he walked you to the stupid class...'

"Oh, nothing," Blayne responded quickly. "I was just wondering if you were going to pick up where Dr. Gregory left off."

"Yes," Ms. French replied with a smile that illuminated the entire room. "His notes indicate that you were in the middle of studying insect life." She walked over to the display table and picked up a glass case containing a plastic replica of a bug. "The praying mantis is a fascinating creature, forced to live alone. Who can tell me why—Melinda?"

Melinda stared at the case for a moment before jokingly saying, "Well, the words 'bug ugly' kind of come to mind."

The smile vanished from Ms. French's face, and her expression darkened, momentarily unsettling Buffy. "There's nothing ugly about these unique creatures," she stated firmly. Then, her smile returned. "The reason they live alone is because they're cannibals."

Some students reacted with disgust, but Buffy was too captivated to join in. She found herself entranced by Ms. French's presence.

"It's hardly their fault," Ms. French continued. "It's the way nature designed them: noble, solitary, and prolific. There are over eighteen hundred mantis species worldwide, and in nearly all of them, the female is larger and more aggressive than the male."

Blayne leaned over to Buffy, whispering, "Nothing wrong with an aggressive female." Buffy couldn't help but smile at his remark, but her focus quickly returned to Ms. French, who now held a textbook and began reading from it while walking up the aisle.

"The California mantis lays her eggs and then seeks a mate to fertilize them. Once he's fulfilled his role, she covers the eggs in a protective sac and attaches it to a leaf or twig, keeping them out of harm's way." Ms. French held up the textbook to show the class, but Xander found himself transfixed by her eyes, unable to focus on the picture.

Ms. French continued, "If she has done her job correctly, in a few months, she will have several hundred offspring." Putting the textbook down, she scanned the room, her eyes catching something on the bulletin board. "You know, we should create some model egg sacs for the Science Fair. Who would like to help me with that after school?"

Buffy eagerly raised her hand, noticing that Xander, Blayne, and nearly every other guy in the class did the same.

"Good," Ms. French said, flashing another warm smile. "I must warn you, it's a delicate art. I would have to work with each of you very closely, one on one."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Before Buffy knew what was happening, bio class was over. She drifted through the rest of the morning, then found herself at lunch. It was quite likely that things had happened in her other morning classes, but she was hard-pressed to recall any of them. All she could think about was Ms. French—that, and the fact that she got the third night's slot for the one-on-one session with Ms. French to make the model egg sacs. Blayne, got tonight's slot and Xander got the next night's.

She met up with Xander and Willow at the entrance to the cafeteria, and together they went to greet the midday meal with the usual sense of anticipation and dread.

A sign proudly displayed the latest culinary creation from the graduates of the Sunnydale School of Medieval Torture. Willow read it aloud, her voice tinged with skepticism. "'Hot dog surprise.' Call me old-fashioned, but I don't want any more surprises in my hot dogs."

Buffy smiled faintly, grabbed a tray, and caught a glimpse of her reflection in a stainless-steel napkin holder. Her thoughts, however, were preoccupied with Ms. French.

"I wonder what she sees in me," Xander pondered, his voice filled with a mix of self-deprecating humor and curiosity. "Probably just the quiet good looks coupled with a certain smoky magnetism."

Willow glanced at Xander, puzzled by his remark. Buffy stepped in to explain, knowing that Willow might not fully grasp the dynamics between an older woman and a younger man. "Ms. French," she clarified. "You are probably a little too young to understand what an older woman would see in a younger man."

"Oh, I understand," Willow replied, her tone indicating she was more aware than they thought.

"Good," Xander acknowledged with a grin.

"A younger man is too oblivious to question why an older woman can't find someone her own age and too eager to care about any cosmetic enhancements she might have had," Willow continued, offering her perspective.

"What cosmetic enhancements?" Xander interrupted, ignoring the rest of Willow's commentary.

"Well," Willow elaborated, "you two are young and so terribly innocent." With that, she went off to get drinks, leaving Buffy and Xander alone.

Xander looked at Buffy, his smile lingering. "That, that can do, right?"

"Right," Buffy agreed, though internally, the part of her that was still Buffy Summers screamed at her, urging her to resist her feelings. But the part of her that was Rutherford Summers, continuously reminded her of how attractive Ms. French was.

Before they could proceed with their lunch, Blayne passed by, his tray stacked high with unappetizing food. "Got to load up on carbs for my one-on-one session with Ms. French today. When's yours?" he inquired, directing his question at Buffy and Xander. "Oh right," he shifted his gaze to Xander, "tomorrow," then turned to Buffy, "and the day after tomorrow. You two came in second and third. I guess that's what they call natural selection."

"I guess that's what they call a rehearsal," Xander called after him as Blayne wandered away.

Just then, Cordelia barged in, pushing her way past Willow without any regard for decorum. She made her way into the kitchen, stood in front of one of the massive fridges, and presented a slip of paper as if it were a badge. "Medically prescribed lunch. My doctor sends it daily. I'll only be here as long as I can hold my breath."

Before Buffy could divert her thoughts back to Ms. French, a piercing wail erupted from the kitchen, jolting her attention. Cordelia stood frozen in terror; her gaze fixated on the now-open fridge. In an instant, Xander and Buffy darted into the kitchen, with Willow trailing closely behind.

As Buffy entered, her eyes immediately fell upon the shocking sight that hung within the fridge like a macabre display—a human body. The lab coat draped over the lifeless figure bore the embroidered name "Dr. Gregory" on the chest, while its head was conspicuously absent.

Cordelia's voice trembled with fear. "His head! His head! Oh my god, where's his head?"

After what felt like an eternity, the police were called, the body was removed, and the trio—Buffy, Willow, and Xander—found themselves in the library. Willow appeared dazed, while both Buffy and Xander shared a similar sense of disorientation. Even Giles, typically a bastion of composure amidst chaos, seemed slightly off-kilter.

"Here." Giles handed Buffy a glass of water and urged her to drink.

Buffy accepted it. "No, thank you," she said as she took a sip. Her mind was racing with the unimaginable scene they had just witnessed.

"I've never seen—" Xander began, his words faltering before he attempted to speak again. "I mean, I've never seen anything like—" Once more, he struggled to find the right words to express his shock. Finally, he managed, "That was... new."

Willow interjected with a sense of determination. "Who would want to harm Dr. Gregory?"

Giles shook his head, a solemn expression on his face. "To my knowledge, he didn't have any enemies among the staff. He was a well-liked, respectable man."

"I liked him too," Buffy spoke up, her voice unusually subdued.

"Well, we're going to find out who did this," Willow asserted, her resolve unwavering. "We'll find them, then we'll stop them."

"You can count on it," Buffy added, her determination resurfacing. In the aftermath of witnessing Dr. Gregory's brutal demise, the infatuation she had harbored for Ms. French had faded, allowing Buffy to regain control over her overactive hormones.

"What do we know?" Giles inquired.

Buffy rose from her seat and began to pace, collecting her thoughts. "Not much," she admitted. "He was killed on campus, most likely on the last day we saw him."

Giles furrowed his brow, seeking clarification. "How did you work that out?"

"He didn't change his clothing," Buffy replied, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and observation.

Xander chimed in, raising a question that nobody particularly wanted to confront. "This is a question that no one particularly wants to hear, but—where did they put his head?"

Willow winced at the thought. "That's a good point. I really didn't want to think about that."

Suddenly, Buffy's voice cut through the conversation. "Angelus. He warned me that something was coming."

Giles nodded, recalling the warning. "Yes, he did indeed. I only wish I understood what he meant."

"Same here," Buffy groaned. "For someone who claimed to want to help, he hasn't been very forthcoming."

Giles made his way to the table, where he picked up one of his countless musty reference books. "I've been researching further information about the Master, our local vampire king. There was a vague mention of a vampire who had displeased the Master, resulting in the vampire cutting off his hand as a form of penance."

"Cut off his hand and replaced it with a fork?" Buffy quipped, trying to inject a bit of humor into the grim situation.

Giles shrugged, uncertain. "I don't know what he replaced it with."

Xander looked puzzled. "So, why would he come after a teacher?"

"I'm not certain that he did," Giles admitted. "There was an incident two nights ago involving a homeless person in Weatherly Park. He was practically shredded. But nothing like Dr. Gregory."

Buffy stated matter-of-factly, "Fork guy doesn't do heads."

"Not historically," Giles acknowledged.

"And," Buffy added, "Dr. Gregory's blood wasn't drained."

Xander interjected with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. "So, there might be something else out there? "Besides Silverware Man? Oh, this is fun. We're on Monster Island."

Buffy corrected him, emphasizing their true location. "We're on a Hellmouth."

"Yes," Giles concurred, " unpleasant things do gravitate here, it's true, but we don't know there's anything besides this chap. He's still our likely suspect."

Buffy's inquisitive nature persisted. "Where was that guy killed? Weatherly Park?"

"Rutherford," Giles responded mindful not to refer to Buffy by her chosen name in front of her friends who still didn't know about her transgender status. "I know you're upset, but this is no time to go hunting. Not until we know more. Please, promise me you won't do anything rash."

Buffy reminded Giles of his previous advice. "You told me to trust my instincts, right?" Upon receiving Giles' confirmation, she continued, "Well, my instincts are telling me there's a connection between this vampire and whatever killed Dr. Gregory. They may not be working for..."

"You said to trust my instincts, right?" Buffy's voice was determined as she locked eyes with Giles, seeking his affirmation. As he nodded in response, she continued, her voice filled with conviction. "Well, they're telling me that this vampire and whatever killed Dr. Gregory are connected somehow. They may not be working for..."

Giles interjected, understanding the implications of her words. "Each other," he finished her sentence, a flicker of realization crossing his face. "But one might lead us to the other. Promise me you'll proceed with caution?"

Buffy's gaze hardened, her commitment shining through. "Promise," she agreed, fully aware of the weight of her responsibility.

Weatherly Park

As darkness descended, Buffy slipped on the jacket Angel had given her, preparing for her nocturnal pursuit. The night was eerily quiet, devoid of even a gentle breeze. A slurred voice cut through the silence, startling Buffy to the core. "Shouldn't be out here at night, young man." She spun around to face a homeless man stumbling along. "S'dangerous." He then meandered away under the influence of whatever he had been drinking.

Rounding a corner, Buffy's attention was drawn to a figure sprawled on the ground—another homeless individual, ill-suited for the elements. At first glance, he appeared lifeless, but then his snoring broke the stillness of the night. Uncertain of her next move, Buffy's gaze shifted to a bush rustling in the breeze, only to realize that the air was unnaturally calm. Something was stirring the bush from within.

Driven by instinct, Buffy approached the bush, pushing aside its branches. She discovered that it was a facade, concealing a storm drain. Without warning, a vampire lunged at her from the hidden recesses. Though resembling a typical vampire at first glance, what set him apart were the six-inch-long, razor-sharp claws that replaced his right hand.

With reflexes honed by her Slayer training, Buffy evaded his first swipe, seizing the opportunity to deliver two swift kicks to his lower back. Ducking another strike, she landed two more kicks, punctuating her assault with a powerful punch to his jaw. As he launched a third attack, Buffy seized his arm, expertly employing an aikido maneuver to flip him onto the ground. Before he could recover, she swiftly incapacitated him with another forceful kick.

Suddenly, the intervention of law enforcement interrupted the confrontation. "Hold it! Police!" Several police officers, led by the very same homeless man who had warned Buffy earlier, appeared on the scene. They were on the trail of the murderer and had planted an undercover officer posing as "Homeless Harry." Seizing the opportunity, the clawed assailant managed to flee into the underbrush.

"I heard him—spread out!" yelled one of the cops.

Startled by the unexpected turn of events, Buffy muttered a curse and chased after the clawed vampire, reaching the fence just as he scaled it to the other side. Her attention was abruptly arrested when she recognized the target of his imminent attack—an unsuspecting woman carrying bags of groceries. But what shocked Buffy to her core was the woman's identity. It was none other than Ms. French, the substitute biology teacher.

Locking eyes with the clawed vampire, Ms. French remained unfazed, her expression unchanging. The assailant, visibly terrified, retreated, hastily removing a drain cover and escaping into the depths of the sewer system. Meanwhile, Ms. French calmly turned and continued her leisurely stroll down the street, unaffected by the harrowing encounter that had just taken place.

March 26, 1997 – Wednesday

Sunnydale High School

Buffy entered the library the following morning, just before her biology class. Giles greeted her with a curious look in his eyes. "Did you discover anything last night?" he inquired; his tone slightly pointed.

"Yep," Buffy replied with a hint of excitement.

"And did you encounter someone with a fork?" Giles asked, a touch of impatience evident in his voice.

"More like a massive claw. But that's not the most intriguing part," Buffy continued, her expression growing more animated. "I stumbled upon something far more fascinating than your typical vampire slayer fare."

"Oh?" Giles prompted; his interest piqued.

"You know Ms. French, the substitute teacher for Dr. Gregory?" Buffy asked, her tone filled with anticipation. As soon as she mentioned Ms. French's name, she observed a subtle grin forming on Giles' face. "So, it's a guy thing, huh?" she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

"What?" Giles responded, momentarily perplexed by her comment.

"The reaction," Buffy clarified. "Until I saw Dr. Gregory's body, I had the same grin just thinking about Ms. French."

Giles nodded, understanding dawning on him as he placed a comforting hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Yes," he affirmed, acknowledging the complexity of her situation. "Despite the fact that we both know you are a girl; you still experience the hormonal fluctuations of a teenage boy." Buffy let out a sigh, her eyes reflecting the longing to be the girl she knew she was. "I'm sorry if..."

"It's okay," Buffy interjected, her voice filled with a touch of resignation. "I just have to hold on to the hope that someday I'll have the opportunity for HRT."

"HRT?" Giles questioned, unfamiliar with the acronym.

"Hormone replacement therapy," Buffy responded, clarifying the meaning of the acronym for Giles.

Giles nodded, acknowledging her answer, and decided to shift the conversation back to their original topic. "You were saying something about Ms. French?"

Buffy nodded in affirmation. "Well, I was chasing the claw guy last night, and Ms. French was heading home. The claw guy takes one look at her and runs screaming for cover."

Giles blinked, surprised by the revelation. "He what? He ran away?"

"He was terrified," Buffy confirmed.

"Of Ms. French?" Giles repeated, trying to comprehend the situation.

"Uh-huh. So," Buffy affirmed. "I'm an undead monster that can shave with my hand. How many things am I afraid of?"

"Not many," Giles admitted, "and not substitute teachers, as a rule."

"So, what's her deal?" Buffy questioned, eager to uncover the truth.

"I think perhaps it would be a good idea if we kept an eye on her," Giles suggested.

"Then I'd better get to class," Buffy said, turning and swiftly making her way towards the exit. She had less than a minute before the second bell would ring.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As Buffy hurried through the school hallway, Principal Flutie intercepted her path. "Rutherford, you were there. You saw Dr. Gregory, didn't you?" he asked without preamble.

Considering that Flutie had been present at the scene, whining mostly, while Buffy, Cordelia, Willow, Xander, and the kitchen staff provided their statements to the police, his question struck Buffy as odd. "You mean yesterday in the cafeteria, when we discovered him—"

"Don't say dead," Flutie interrupted. "Or decapitated. Or decomposing. I would stay away from D words altogether. But you witnessed the event, so this way please," he said, gesturing in the opposite direction from Science 109.

"Well, no, I'm going to be late for biology," Buffy protested.

"Extremely late," Flutie agreed, leading her down the hallway. "You have to see a counselor. Everyone who saw the body has to see a crisis counselor."

"I really don't need—" Buffy began, but her words were cut off as Principal Flutie guided her towards the counselor's office.

"We all need help with our feelings," Flutie rambled on, "otherwise, we bottle them up and before you know it, powerful laxatives are involved. I really believe that if we all reach out to one another; we can beat this thing. I'm always here if you need a hug—but not a real hug, because there's no touching in this school, we're sensitive to wrong touching."

He guided her to a bench outside what was typically the school nurse's office, but Buffy refused to sit on it.

From inside, she could hear a voice droning on.

"But I really, really—" Buffy began,

"No," Flutie interrupted once more. "You need to speak with a counselor and begin the healing process. You have to heal."

"But Mr. Flutie, I—" she tried again.

"Heal!" he barked, pointing to the bench.

Defeated, Buffy reluctantly sank into the seat. Leaning back, she hoped that Willow would be observant enough to notice any strange behavior from Ms. French. It dawned on her that the droning voice from inside the office belonged to Cordelia.

"I don't even know what to say," Cordelia was saying, which was obviously untrue. "It was really…I mean, one minute, you're in your normal life, and then, 'who's in the fridge?' It really gets to you, a thing like that. It was—let's just say I haven't been able to eat a thing since yesterday. I think I lost like seven-and-a-half ounces—way swifter than the so-called diet that quack put me on. Oh," she quickly added, "I'm not saying that we should kill a teacher every day just so I can lose weight, I'm just saying, when tragedy strikes, you have to look on the bright side. You know, like how even a used Mercedes still has leather seats."

Cordelia eventually grew tired of her own voice and exited the office. Spotting Buffy, she remarked, "You'll probably need a couple of hours in there. I mean, hey, why turn down free therapy, right?"

Buffy glared at Cordelia. She had heard both sides of the therapy question when it came to transgender individuals. On one side, there were therapists who were supportive and genuinely wanted to assist in the transition process. On the other side, there were those who would rather recommend harmful conversion therapy. As a result, she always felt apprehensive about seeing any school counselor or even the court-ordered therapist for children of divorce.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy entered the counselor's office. She answered the counselor's questions with simple, concise responses and was out of there within five minutes, relieved to have escaped the potentially uncomfortable situation.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy rushed to her biology class, only to find all the students hunched over their desks, engrossed in pop quiz papers. "Oh, great," she muttered under her breath. "A pop quiz."

Two things immediately caught her attention. Firstly, her lab table was conspicuously empty, devoid of any equipment or materials and Blayne was also absent.

But what truly unsettled Buffy was the sight of Ms. French. The substitute teacher stood with her back to the classroom door, which on its own wasn't particularly unusual. However, something caught Buffy's eye—an unnerving movement. Ms. French turned her head to face Buffy, rotating it all the way around without a hint of movement in the rest of her body.

Instinctively, Buffy swiftly maneuvered out of sight from the doorway, her heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and a growing sense of unease. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly amiss. This situation was undeniably bizarre.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

After school, Buffy filled Willow in on the events of her day, culminating in the unsettling revelation about Ms. French's extraordinary neck movement.

Willow, struggling to comprehend, asked, "She craned her neck?"

No, I'm not saying she craned her neck," Buffy replied, her frustration evident as they entered the library. "We're talking about a full-on Exorcist twist."

"Ouch," Willow winced in response.

Recalling another strange occurrence in class, Buffy asked, "Which reminds me. How come Blayne—who worked with her 'one-on-one' yesterday—isn't here today?"

"Inquiring minds want to know," Willow quipped, swiftly making her way to the computer to investigate.

Approaching Giles, who was immersed in a book at the main desk, Buffy inquired, "Any luck?"

"Um, I've not found any creature as yet that strikes terror in a vampire's heart," Giles replied.

"Try looking under 'Things that Can Turn Their Heads All the Way Around,'" Buffy suggested.

Giles seemed taken aback. "Nothing human can do that."

"No, nothing human," Buffy agreed, recalling fragments of information from chapters six through eight. "But there are some insects that can. Whatever she is, I'm going to be ready for her." With determination in her eyes, she ascended the stairs to the library stacks.

Giles couldn't help but ask, "What are you going to do?"

Grinning mischievously, Buffy responded, "My homework." And she disappeared into the stacks. After a brief exploration, she reemerged. "Where are the books on bugs?" she asked Giles, eager to arm herself with knowledge.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy rushed out to the railing overlooking the library, clutching a book about praying mantises in her hands. Excitement radiated from her as she exclaimed, "Dig this!" Her voice echoed through the room. "The praying mantis can rotate its head a hundred and eighty degrees while waiting for its next meal to walk by. Hah!" With a triumphant flourish, she closed the book.

However, Giles and Willow remained unresponsive to her discovery. Buffy tried to rally their enthusiasm, urging, "Well, c'mon guys! Hah?"

Willow absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture she often made when she had something to say but suspected it might not be well-received. "Well, Ms. French is sort of big. For a bug," she offered, attempting to contribute.

"She is, by and large, woman shaped," Giles added, deep in thought.

But Buffy refused to be discouraged. As she descended the stairs, she enumerated her observations. "Okay, factoid one: only the praying mantis can rotate its head like that. Factoid two: a pretty whacked-out vampire is scared to death of her."

Giles began to fiddle with his pen, a sure sign that his mind was working through a puzzle. "If you're right, she'd have to be a shapeshifter, or perception distorter. Well, now, half a mo'," he interjected, his face suddenly illuminating. "I had a chum at Oxford, Carlyle, with advanced degrees in entomology and mythology. If I recall correctly, poor old Carlyle—just before he went mad—claimed there was some beast—"

Willow interrupted their conversation, sounding alarmed. "Rutherford, nine-one-one! Blayne's mom called the school. He never came home last night."

As Buffy walked around the table to join Willow at the computer, Giles inquired, "The boy who worked with Ms. French yesterday?"

"Yes," Willow confirmed. "If Ms. French is responsible for... Xander is supposed to be assisting her right now. He's got a crush on a giant insect!"

Buffy glanced at Giles and added, "Just like I did. Factoid three: she does something to boys that…"

"…makes them feel attracted to her." Giles finished her sentence, understanding the implication.

"I'll go find him and warn him," Buffy resolved. "Willow, I need you to hack into the coroner's office for me."

Curious, Willow asked, "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Autopsy on Dr. Gregory. I've been trying to figure out these marks I saw on his corpse. I'm thinking they were teeth." Buffy pointed to a picture in the mantis book. "And these should definitely be brushing after every meal." She then turned back to Giles. "And you mentioned something about a creature?"

"Oh, yes. I just need to make one transatlantic telephone call," Giles responded, heading toward his office. He paused and turned back, questioning them. "This computer invasion that Willow's performing on the coroner's office; one assumes it's entirely legal?"

"Of course," Buffy replied earnestly, putting on her most sincere face.

"Entirely," Willow echoed simultaneously.

Giles, clearly skeptical, nodded. "Right. I wasn't here, didn't see it, couldn't have stopped you."

"Good idea," Buffy agreed, her sincerity truly evident this time. With determination, she grabbed her new leather jacket and set off to find Xander, leaving Willow to her hacking endeavors.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

After an exhaustive search, Buffy finally located Xander. He wasn't in the biology classroom, student lounge, or cafeteria, and he certainly wasn't in the library, which were his usual hangouts. Determined, Buffy ventured outside and eventually spotted him strolling near the quad.

"Hey," she called out, catching up to him.

He replied with a casual "Hey."

Curious about his encounter with Ms. French, Buffy inquired, "So, how did it go with Ms. French?"

Xander shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, it's a bit demanding being her absolute favorite guy in the universe, but I'll muddle through."

Buffy took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to reveal. "Xander," she said slowly, "she's not what she seems."

With a dreamy expression, Xander responded, "I know. She's so much more."

Buffy felt the urgency to make him understand. "Okay, um, I'm going to have to tell you something about her," she said slowly, "and I'm going to need you to really listen, okay?"

"Okay," Xander said, sounding like he meant it.

"I don't think she's human," she emphasized.

Xander smirked, seemingly unfazed. "I see. So, she's not human, she's...?"

"Technically, a big bug," Buffy explained, trying to convey the gravity of the situation. As Xander's smirk grew into a grin, she hurriedly added, "This sounds really weird, I'm aware, but—"

Interrupting her, Xander adopted a condescending tone she had never heard him use before. "It doesn't sound weird at all. I completely understand. I've met someone, and you're jealous."

Buffy summoned every ounce of self-control to prevent herself from snapping his neck in frustration. "What?"

Xander continued, dismissing her concerns. "Look, there's nothing I can do about it. I know you and she were scheduled for tomorrow. But there's just a certain chemical thing between Ms. French and me."

Aware of the pheromone effect described in her research, Buffy tried to reason with him. "I know, I read all about it. it's called a pheromone. It's a chemical attractant that insects give off."

Xander scoffed, his exasperation evident. "She's not an insect, she's a woman, okay? As hard as it may be for you to grasp, an actual woman finds me attractive. I realize it's no Angelus handing out leather jackets."

Confused by his response, Buffy asked, "What does that have to do with—"

Cutting her off, Xander interjected, "Nothing. It just kind of bugs me."

Buffy stared into her friend's eyes, realizing that convincing him would be futile. He hadn't paid attention to a word she had said, refusing to entertain the possibility that she might be right. He genuinely believed she was jealous and competing for Ms. French's attention.

"I really have to..." Xander's voice trailed off as he abruptly left.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Buffy made her way back to the library. "I am not jealous," she screamed aloud, though her own hormones were attempting to persuade her otherwise.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Giles had mentioned making one transatlantic phone call, but it turned out to be a series of calls. By the time Buffy returned from her unsuccessful attempt to talk to Xander, Willow informed her that Giles was already on his fourth call.

Willow explained that Carlyle, the person Giles was trying to reach, had been relocated to a different psychiatric facility. Night had fallen, and it took some time for Giles to track down the correct institution.

Buffy overheard Giles's urgent voice emanating from his office. "Frankly, madam," he exclaimed, "I haven't the faintest idea what time it is, nor do I care. Now unlock his cell, unstrap him, and bring him to the telephone immediately. This is a matter of life and death!"

"Got it," Willow responded, acknowledging the task. Buffy joined her at the computer, where Willow had retrieved the coroner's report along with distasteful color photographs. Willow recoiled, making a face of disgust, and stepped back from the monitor.

Undeterred, Buffy leaned in closer, her Slayer instincts suppressing any repulsion. She carefully compared the marks on Dr. Gregory's remaining neck tissue with the illustrations in the textbook. "They are teeth marks," she declared triumphantly, "which match perfectly those made by the one insect that nips off its prey's head."

Willow expressed her discomfort. "Okay, I don't like this."

"It's the way they feed: head first," Buffy explained. "Also, the way they mate. The female bites off the male's head while they're—" She realized too late her mistake in being too graphic.

"No, no, no!" Willow objected, visibly distressed. "See, Xander is... I like his head. That's where you find his eyes, his hair, and his adorable smile…"

Realizing the impact of her words, Buffy quickly intervened, placing a comforting hand on Willow's shoulder. "Whoa, take it easy, Will," she said soothingly. "Xander is not in immediate danger. I saw him leave school. He's probably safe at home right now."

Ms. French's House

Xander awoke to a disorienting scene. He found himself surrounded by straw and confined within a solid, uncomfortable cage on a dark floor. As his eyes adjusted, he looked up and came face to face with a colossal praying mantis. The realization struck him—Buffy's words echoing in his mind. "Technically, a big bug." Dread washed over him.

Summoning the courage, he tentatively spoke, "Ms.—French?"

The giant praying mantis responded in the voice he had grown infatuated with, "Please, call me Natalie."

Suddenly, a hand gripped Xander's arm, startling him. "Yaaaah!" he cried out. The hand belonged to someone trapped in the adjacent cage. It was Blayne.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." Blayne muttered anxiously.

Concerned, Xander asked, "Are you okay?"

"You've got to get me out of here, you've got to—she—she—she gets you and—"

Curiosity overcame revulsion, and Xander needed answers. "What? What does she do?"

"Oh God, oh no..."

Driven by curiosity, Xander reached between the bars and firmly grasped Blayne's soiled shirt. "Blayne, what does she do?"

Blayne's words spilled out rapidly, "She—she takes you out of the cage and she ties you up. Then she, like, starts moving and throbbing, and these eggs come shooting out of her—and then—"

"What? Then what?" Xander pressed, desperate for the full story.

"She mates with you."

"She—"

"But that's not the worst part," Blayne interrupted, his momentum building.

"It's not?"

"Have you seen her teeth? Right while she's—right in the middle of it—I saw her do it!" Blayne pointed to a headless body in the neighboring cage. "I don't want to die like that!"

"Blayne, Blayne, calm down. It's going to be okay; we're going to get out of this."

"Do you have a plan?" Blayne asked, his voice tinged with hope. "What is it?"

"Just let me perfect it," Xander replied weakly, realizing he needed to come up with a plan.

Blayne remained skeptical. "Oh God."

Xander sighed and attempted to conjure a plan. He pondered, 'Okay, what would Rutherford do?' After a moment, he thought, 'He'd bend the bars with his super Slayer strength. But that's not an option for me.' Examining the weakened spots on the cage bars, he noticed a glimmer of possibility. Perhaps, just maybe...

For several minutes, Xander exerted all his strength, tugging at a particularly frail bar. Meanwhile, the giant bug, formerly known as Ms. French, shuffled around nearby, preoccupied with whatever insects do before mating. Blayne momentarily shifted his focus from uttering "Oh God" repeatedly to observe Xander's actions. "What are you—? Don't do anything that'll make her mad," he warned.

Ignoring Blayne's pleas, Xander finally managed to wrench one bar free.

"Hey, all right," Blayne exclaimed, a flicker of optimism brightening his expression. "Now I can get out of my cage—into yours." His enthusiasm waned as he frowned. "What'd you do that for?"

Xander raised the freed bar, concealing it behind his back. "It's a weapon."

Blayne glanced at the approaching bug. "I think you're going to need it."

Concealing his growing fear, Xander observed the bug ambling toward them. The colossal insect halted in front of Blayne's cage. Blayne, trembling like a frightened child, crawled through the newly created opening and into Xander's cage.

"He did that! He broke the cage! Take him, not me, take him!" Blayne pleaded, pointing an accusatory finger at Xander.

The bug turned its attention to Xander's cage, where both boys now sat, and used its foreleg to point at Blayne and then at Xander, repeating the gesture.

Confused, Xander inquired, "What's she doing?"

"I think it's eenie, meenie, minie—"

The foreleg settled on Xander.

Swallowing hard, Xander finished Blayne's sentence, "—moe."

Sunnydale High School

Giles hadn't heard Ferris Carlyle's voice in two decades, and it was evident that the passing years hadn't been kind to the old man's sanity. "I understand, Carlyle... Yes, I'll take every precaution... Absolutely, it sounds exactly like the creature you described. You were right all along, about everything... Well, no, you weren't right about your mother coming back as a Pekingese, but... Try to rest, old man... Yes... Ta... 'Bye now."

Hanging up the phone, Giles felt a sense of unpleasantness creeping over him. He briefly rubbed his left arm, as if nursing a slight ache, before returning to the main part of the library where Buffy and Willow awaited his explanation.

"Now, can you finally tell us about this creature?" Buffy inquired impatiently.

Giles nodded, ready to share the knowledge he had gathered. "Dr. Ferris Carlyle," he began, "dedicated years to deciphering a lost, pre-Germanic language. What he uncovered, he kept to himself... until a series of gruesome murders of teenage boys occurred in the Cotswolds. Then he went hunting for it."

"'It' being—?" Buffy pressed; her curiosity piqued.

"He calls it a She-Mantis. This type of creature, the Kleptes-Virgo or virgin thief, appears in many cultures: the Greek Sirens, the Celtic sea-maidens who tore the living flesh from the bones of —"

"You know I am all for research," Buffy interjected, "but Xander could be in trouble. So..."

"Well, basically, the She-Mantis assumes the form of a beautiful woman and then lures innocent virgins back to her nest," Giles explained.

"I can see why that would attract me… I am," Buffy admitted with a smirk. "But Xander's not… I mean, he's probably—"

"Gonna die!" Willow interjected, cutting through the awkward pause as she hurriedly reached for the phone.

"Okay, okay," Buffy said, covering the tension. "So, this thing is breeding, and we have to find and kill it. Any ideas on how to do that?"

"Carlyle suggests severing all its body parts with a sharp blade," Giles replied.

"Slice and dice," Buffy remarked, determined.

"Whatever you do, it must be quick and decisive. This creature is extremely dangerous," Giles cautioned.

"Well, your buddy Carlyle faced it, and he's still around," Buffy pointed out.

"Yes," Giles nodded gravely, "in a straitjacket, howling incessantly day and night."

The sound of the phone slamming down echoed in the library. Willow returned, sharing her findings. "Xander's not at home. He told his mom he was going to his teacher's house to work on a science project, but he didn't say where."

Giles and Buffy exchanged concerned glances. Buffy turned to Willow. "Try to obtain the teacher's address from the substitute rolls. And Giles, you need to record bat sonar quickly."

Giles acknowledged her instructions. "Bat sonar, right." Realizing he lacked crucial information, he asked, "What?"

"Bats eat them," Buffy explained. "A mantis hears bat sonar; its entire nervous system explodes."

"Where am I going to find—?" he began.

"In the video library," Buffy interjected, guiding Giles towards that direction.

Giles first retrieved a handheld tape recorder from his office, one of the many left behind by his predecessor. He found a microtape that he no longer needed, inserted it into the handheld, and proceeded to the video library—a section he rarely visited. Similarly, the students had little use for it, as it mainly housed educational materials for the faculty, including a video on bats, as he discovered.

There was equipment capable of making sophisticated audio recordings from videotapes, but time was of the essence, and Giles had no knowledge of its operation. He located the appropriate tape, noticing with a pang of sadness that the last person to use it was Michael Gregory, and inserted it into the VCR. When the segment on bat sonar played, Giles placed the handheld recorder next to the television speaker and pressed play and record.

Ten excruciating minutes later, he had captured what he hoped was sufficient. Rewinding the tape, he listened briefly to confirm the recording, but then noticed the battery light flashing. Wanting to avoid a power outage during a critical moment, Giles transferred the tape to another handheld recorder.

Returning to the main library, Giles arrived just as the computer printed a piece of paper for Willow.

"Got the address," Willow confirmed, holding up the paper.

"Great," Buffy exclaimed, placing her packed duffel bag on the table. Turning to Giles, she said, "I've got the armory covered. How about you?"

Giles nodded. "Recording bat sonar is something soothingly akin to having one's teeth drilled."

"Let's go," Buffy urged, and the three of them headed toward the exit.

Willow glanced at the paper she had retrieved from the printer. "According to Ms. French's personnel records, she was born in 1907. She's like ninety years old."

Giles responded wryly, "Yes, extremely well-preserved indeed."

Streets of Sunnydale

They quickly located the French residence at 837 Weatherly Drive. Giles parked the car in front of the house, and the trio of Slayer, Watcher, and student stepped out, their mission clear in their minds.

"What now?" Giles inquired as they approached the front door. "We can't just kick the front door down."

"Yeah, that would be wrong," Buffy remarked, poised to do exactly that.

Before she could carry out her impulsive action, the door swung open, revealing a frail old woman adorned in a cardigan sweater and thick, plastic glasses. "Hello, dear," she greeted them. "I thought I heard... Are you selling something? Because I'd like to help you out, but you see, I'm on a fixed income."

Buffy hesitated; her voice cautious. "I'm looking for Ms. French."

"I am Miss French," the elderly woman proudly declared.

"Natalie French," Buffy clarified, "the substitute biology teacher."

"Goodness, that's me," the old woman responded warmly. "I taught for over thirty years. I retired in 1972."

In that instant, everything clicked into place within Giles' mind. The puzzling record stating Ms. French was born in 1907 suddenly made sense.

Realizing the same revelation, Buffy exclaimed, "I can't believe this. She used Ms. French's records to get in the school—she could be anywhere."

"No, dear," the old woman retorted, "I'm right here."

Willow, on the verge of panic, asked, "What do we do now?"

"Abject prayer and supplication would spring to mind," Giles muttered, feeling somewhat perplexed. The notion of someone assuming another person's identity hadn't occurred to him.

Buffy pointed to Weatherly Park nearby and said, "I saw her walking past this park with her grocery bags. She lives in this neighborhood."

Willow moved towards one of the neighboring houses. "I'm going to start banging on doors."

"No, wait," Buffy interjected, grasping Willow's arm. "We don't have time for that."

"We have to do something!" Willow cried; her anguish evident. Giles realized the depth of Willow Rosenberg's feelings for Xander, more than he had previously understood.

"We will," Buffy assured her, grabbing her duffel bag and heading toward the street. She stopped before a sewer cover, dropped her duffel, and produced a length of rope. With surprising ease, she removed the manhole cover, reminding Giles of its substantial weight. "I won't be long," she declared before vanishing into the sewer.

Giles and Willow crouched anxiously by the sewer opening, several minutes stretching out in agonizing anticipation, despite Giles' watch indicating only a brief passage of time.

"Come on, Rutherford," Willow muttered impatiently.

Then, a recollection struck Giles. The one-handed vampire had taken to living in the sewers. Did Buffy intend to employ the vampire, the so-called "claw guy," as an insect Geiger counter?

A commotion arose from the bushes behind them, capturing Giles' attention. As he rose to investigate, Buffy emerged from the foliage, accompanied by a tall, long-haired vampire whose hands were bound behind his back. Upon seeing Buffy clearly for the first time, the vampire exclaimed, "You!"

"Me," Buffy responded with a smile, seizing him from behind and forcefully pushing him down the sidewalk. "Come on, come on, where is she?"

Giles, following behind with Willow, observed that his suspicions were confirmed—vampires could sense the true nature of the She-Mantis.

"Which house is it? I know you're afraid of her, I saw you. Come on, come on!" Buffy pressed on, her urgency mounting.

They passed by one of those tiresome American split-level houses with a white picket fence, and the vampire abruptly tensed.

"What?" Buffy prodded. "What is it? Is this the entrance to her house? Is this it?"

The vampire remained silent, turning away. Giles caught a glimpse of fear etched across the vampire's face, which surprised him.

Buffy dragged him closer to the house, remarking, "Better than radar." The vampire cringed even more.

The house stood enveloped in darkness, save for a solitary light emanating from a small cellar window.

Giles glanced back at the vampire just as the vampire finished using his prosthetic hand to slice through the rope that bound him. "Look out!" he exclaimed simultaneously with Willow's cry of "Rutherford!"

The vampire lunged at Buffy, who skillfully evaded his attack. Unfortunately, her dodge caused her to stumble and fall on the front lawn. The vampire advanced toward her, and she crab-walked backward until she bumped into the fence.

Giles contemplated whether he should intervene, but before he could decide, Buffy swiftly seized a slat from the fence, snapped it off with fluid motion, and employed it as a stake to dispatch the vampire.

As the vampire disintegrated into dust, Buffy rose to her feet, sporting a triumphant smile. "Coming?" she asked, gesturing towards the house.

Ms. French's House

The enormous insect, its form resembling that of a mantis, opened the door to the cage, gesturing for Xander to come out. With the purloined cage bar hidden behind his back, Xander cautiously inched his way out, his feet leading the way. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he muttered, his voice filled with apprehension.

As soon as he drew close enough, Xander swung the bar at the mantis, delivering a powerful blow. In one swift motion, he leaped up and sprinted towards the stairs. But before he could reach safety, one of the mantis's forelegs tripped him, sending him crashing onto the stairs with a bone-jarring impact. The creature swiftly grabbed him by the torso with its other foreleg, effortlessly lifting him up. Xander found himself pinned against a wall; his body secured by leather straps.

A sense of impending doom washed over him as Blayne spoke up. "Oh yeah, here it comes," he remarked, a note of macabre anticipation in his voice.

"What? What's happening?" Xander frantically inquired, though part of him hesitated to hear the answer.

"How do you like your eggs, bro, over easy or sunny-side up?" Blayne taunted.

"Eggs? She's going to lay some—?" Xander's voice trailed off, his mind struggling to comprehend the horrifying truth. The mantis seemed to be smiling, an eerie sight that sent shivers down his spine. He didn't think bugs were capable of such expressions.

Leaning in closer, the mantis spoke in Natalie French's voice, whispering, "Kiss me."

Struggling fruitlessly against his restraints, Xander desperately pleaded, "Can I just say one thing? Help! Help!"

As if in response, the small window overlooking the front lawn shattered, and Buffy climbed in with determination. "Hey, over here!" Blayne called out, trying to catch her attention. "Hello? In the cage?"

Buffy disregarded Blayne and focused on the mantis. "Let him go!" she commanded, reaching into her bag and retrieving two cans of bug spray. With swift precision, she attacked the former Ms. French with both barrels, releasing a putrid odor that filled the air. Though the smell was nauseating, to Xander, it was as fragrant as roses. The giant bug retreated into a corner, temporarily disoriented.

"Help me?" Blayne continued to wail. "Help me!"

"Get them out of here," Buffy instructed, finally acknowledging Willow and Giles, who had followed her through the window. Willow rushed to open the cage while Giles worked to undo Xander's straps.

Buffy, wielding a handheld tape recorder inexplicably, held it aloft like a samurai sword. She pressed the play button, and Giles's voice began speaking. "—extremely important to file, not simply alphabetically—"

Confusion clouded Xander's mind as the tape played, but before he could question it, Buffy hit the stop button, exclaiming, "Giles?"

"It's the wrong side," Giles called out, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Suddenly, the mantis screeched and lunged at Buffy, knocking the recorder out of her hand and sending it skittering under a refrigerator. Giles immediately went after it. Xander, in the midst of the chaos, grabbed the bug spray cans.

The mantis focused its attention on Buffy, who deftly evaded its attacks. Xander positioned himself in front of Buffy and sprayed the mantis with bug spray, though it only mildly annoyed the creature. It turned its aggression towards him, and Buffy forcefully pushed him out of harm's way.

With the mantis momentarily distracted, Buffy managed to land three kicks, giving herself some breathing room. Seizing the opportunity, Giles lunged at the mantis from behind, wielding the recorder. He pressed play, unleashing a piercing, ear-screeching sound that filled the air. The mantis writhed in agony, its movements erratic and its screeches piercing.

Understanding dawned on Xander as Buffy explained, "Bat sonar makes your whole nervous system go to hell." She reached into her bag, retrieving a massive machete. "You can go there with it."

Xander watched, a mixture of revulsion and elation, as Buffy took the machete and unleashed a flurry of hacking and slashing upon the giant mantis. Within seconds, the floor was strewn with fragments of the creature's dismembered body.

As Buffy stood, dusting herself off and pocketing the tape recorder, Giles remarked, "I'd say it's deceased."

"And dissected," Willow added, her voice tinged with triumph. Xander noticed that she had successfully freed Blayne from the cage.

Concern etched on his face, Xander asked Buffy, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, her smile conveying no hard feelings.

Preparing himself for a five-course meal of crow, Xander said, "Just for the record, you were right, I'm an idiot, and God bless you."

"I was under her spell for a while too," Buffy added sympathetically with a small grimace at the memory of the mantis making her feel for a while like a boy instead of like the girl she knew she was inside.

Turning his attention to Giles and Willow, Xander expressed his gratitude. "And thank you guys, too."

"Yeah, really," Blayne said. He sounded a bit more together than he had in the cage.

"Pleasure," Giles responded with a smile.

"I'm really glad you're okay," Willow said, moving closer to Xander. "It's so unfair how she only went after virgins."

Xander blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I mean, here you guys are, doing the right thing—the smart thing—when a lot of other boys your age—" Willow's words trailed off as she realized her mistake.

Blayne straightened up and interrupted. "Flag down on that play, babe. I am not—"

Giles smiled and said, "That's the She-Mantis's modus operandi —she only preys…"

"Giles," Buffy interjected, shaking her head. "Don't finish that sentence."

Blayne pointed at each of them, his tone defensive. "My dad's a lawyer. Anybody repeats this to anybody, they're going to find themselves facing a lawsuit."

"Blayne," Xander interjected firmly, "shut up."

"I don't think it's bad," Willow chimed in, a smile playing on her lips. "I think it's really—"

"Willow!" Buffy interrupted, her voice firm. "Don't."

Xander bent down and retrieved the machete Buffy had dropped, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.

Willow's eyes widened at the sight of the blade, and she quickly assured him, "Certainly nothing I'll ever bring up again."

With a contented smile, Xander moved towards the hanging egg sacs. Methodically, he swung the machete, hacking and slicing the sacs into ribbons. It was the most enjoyable thing he had done in weeks.

March 27, 1997 – Thursday

The Bronze

Angel materialized next to Buffy; his presence as silent as a whisper. "I heard a rumor there was one less vampire walking around making a nuisance of himself," he remarked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"There is. I guess I should thank you for the tip, Angel," Buffy replied, her tone filled with both gratitude and wariness.

He offered her a half-smile, his gaze meeting hers. "Pleasure's mine. And thank you..."

"For?" Buffy inquired; her curiosity piqued.

"For not calling me Angelus," Angel responded, his smile widening, revealing a touch of vulnerability beneath his stoic exterior.

A surge of conflicting emotions washed over Buffy. Part of her yearned to deliver a swift blow to his jaw. Yet, at the same time, another part of her desperately wanted to lose herself in the warmth of that captivating smile.

"Well, anyway," she said, breaking the momentary silence, starting to remove the jacket he had lent her. "You can have your jacket back."

Raising his hand in a gentle gesture, Angel halted her movements. "It looks better on you," he declared softly, his eyes tracing the outline of the collar. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Buffy standing there, staring after him.

Buffy's gaze lingered on the spot where he had vanished long after he had disappeared from sight. "Oh boy," she murmured, a mixture of uncertainty and longing echoing in her voice.