Chapter 2:
Reaping the Harvest.
Cordelia Chase was, like, not having a good night!
It started off well enough, though Harmony was a no-show, and that girl better have been sick, or something, but not, like, morning sick, because who had time to be preggo nowadays, but the Bronze had been it's normal legit self, as far as a tiny place like Sunnydale could get, until some complete freaks turned off the lights, a dude with some serious facial wiggyness getting on stage announcing, "There is no cause for alarm. Actually, there is cause for alarm. It just won't do any good."
And they'd brought out the door guy, who always let Cordelia and her friends in for free, cause he knew they classed up the joint and were what made it the place to be, and the jacked, ugly dude with a shitty-looking triangle scar on his forehead bit out the door guy's throat!
Like, who does that!?
And then people had tried to leave, because, like, fuck that, but it wasn't just him, there were dozens of freaks surrounding them, and Cordelia wasn't just talking about their fashion sense, though, that alone would've been enough to make her scream!
They grabbed people, bringing them up, one after another, and killing them, just, like, a pile of bodies growing, which was, like, so unsanitary!
Thankfully, they were starting with the complete uggos first, and Cordy was surprised not to see Rosen-nerd dragged up, the girl having shown up in a freakin' nightdress looking thing before, like someone's grandma, but of course she'd chosen tonight to realize she wasn't wanted. Either way, that meant that Cordelia was safe, at least for a bit, though, from the way these lumpy-faced eyesores were going, that didn't mean much.
Killing a girl Cordelia remembered failing out of the cheerleader tryouts, which was just one step away from actual cheerleaders, the brunette really started to worry, when a loud, tearing noise came from the front door, like a car crash that didn't end, until the door was just gone, the two freaks who were guarding it turning around, then there was a crackle like a socket shorting out, and they were gone, like, disintegrated and stuff.
And the singing started.
From the doorway, a dude walked in, covered in black armor studded with crosses, and she'd thought he'd had wings, except they were tentacles that glowed blue-white, tipped with long knife-blades.
"Who are you?" the lead freak demanded, scowling, which, with brows that big, was a lot. "An angel? Don't make me laugh!"
But the new guy didn't say anything, just continued walking in, pulling a sword from the air, which crackled with electricity.
One of the freaks tried to jump him, only for the dark knight to stab him through the chest, completely destroying that guy as well, causing the others to pull back a little, as he kept walking towards the guy on stage.
"Get him!" Triangle-Face yelled, but the others didn't move. "Get him, or tell The Master why you have failed!"
That got the freakshow moving, dozens charging the guy who just laughed, jumping high into the air and coming down on a few jerks, tentacles whipping out, stabbing through the psychos, some turning to dust, others quickly covered with glowing blue-white stuff, as the knight fought off thirty, forty of them at once.
"Hey, Cordelia!" a voice hissed, and she looked over to see Rosenberg waving, holding, was that a spray bottle? "This way!"
The popular girl's first instinct was to put the nerd in her place for even talking to her, but, as the singing continuing, it'd ruin her incredibly witty insult, so instead, seeing the loser was pointing for the now open front door, the brunette grabbed the rest of her clique and started heading for the exit, only for another one of those freaks to suddenly be right there.
"Where do you think you're goi-AAAAAH!" the weird-faced woman screamed, as the redhead sprayed the uggo in the face, only for it to start to burn.
"Is that acid?" Cordelia demanded, horrified.
"Holy water," the nerd shrugged. "Works great on Vamps! A little too good," she added with a concerned frown, as the creepo rolled on the ground. "That looks like it hurts."
They both jumped as a glowing tendril shot out, slamming into the downed bitch, dragging her towards the main fight, where the ground was thick with dust, one of the wrapped up freaks deflating like a balloon, the rope that'd covered him unravelling into a strand, showing there was nothing left inside, before it lashed out at another.
"Oh, that's what he meant by it eats them," Willow noted idly, unconcerned by, by that.
"You know who that is?" Cordelia demanded, trying to figure out exactly what she was looking at.
"Huh?" the nerd asked. "Oh, that's Xander!"
Watching the man get dogpiled by freaks, only to throw them all off, turning half a dozen to dust, as his Walkman, or whatever, continued playing, it was kinda lame in a churchy way, but also… "Hot," the Latina remarked.
Beside her, Rosenberg quickly said, "Oh, did I say Xander? I meant, uh, that's someone whose not Xander! Like at al-"
Another freak tried to jump them, the redhead spraying him too, causing the dick to pull back, screaming, only for the new girl to jump off the balcony, landing on it, bleeding from cuts on her arm, her jacket torn, the asshole turning to dust underneath her.
"Cordelia, Willow," Buffy nodded. "Time to leave!"
"Right!" they both replied, glancing at each other, and, was that the new librarian cutting off a dude's head with a sword?
Gnarly.
Cordelia headed for the exit, while Willow ran over to others, hesitating behind one freak, the armored dude, who was maybe the dork, shooting out a line to stab the guy and drag him into the mosh-pit on the dance-floor, but that was, like, not her problem as the popular girl ran for the front entrance, only to get grabbed by another of these asshats, his grip like iron, the guy sneering at her, with a face-full of ick, as he growled, "I think I'll take a meal, to go!" and start dragging her to the side door.
"Help! Help!" she screamed, unable to do anything as she was pulled away from the others, no one coming to her help, when they were going to help the others, which was, like, discrimination or something!
"Let her go!" she heard someone yell, turning to spot her resident stalker, who she was actually happy to see, for the first time in her life. Jesse ran up, and shoving a spike into the dude's chest, but it did squat, the freak rearing back and slamming a fist into the boy's face, sending him flying away.
Thanks for nothing, loser, she thought, as the monster continued to drag her away, but, looking around, she saw that Summers was stabbing monsters in the chest with her spike and killing them, only… she was stabbing them in the other side of the chest.
"H-Hey, Y-you wanna taste me, right?" Cordelia demanded, trying to play it cool, of the monster that was looking away, dragging her towards the Bronze's kitchen, really hoping this worked.
And yes, the butt-faced freak turned to look at her, smiling with a mouth full of pointed teeth, "Oh, yeah, I think you'll be delic-"
Which is when Cordelia grabbed the spike in his chest, yanked it out with all her strength, and then, when the dickbag glared at her and pulled her towards him, she practically fell forward, slamming it into the center-left of his chest instead of the center-right, letting out a yelp as, instead of hitting him, she stumbled through the freak, getting a mouth-full of dust, which, just icksville!
Looking around, there was still fighting, and glancing over towards where Jesse went, she spotted Harmony, who was beating a freak with a metal cross, forcing him away from the boy. God, I knew she had shit taste, but really? Cordellia thought, watching Rosenberg help others get out, along with the Librarian, which… what?
Beyond them the armored guy, who may or may not been Harris, probably was with his dumbass friends here, was still mopping up, while the new girl fought Triangle-Face, having to dodge the other weird-faced guys, getting slammed to the ground, only for the Knight to send out sweeping tendrils that dragged the three others off the stage, just leaving the biggest, baddest, and ugliest one for Summers.
And, as some of the freaks started to head her way, running from the fight, Cordelia decided it was time to leave.
Heading out through the kitchen, she exited into a side alley and ran out into the street, seeing her so called 'friends' looking around.
"Like, OMG!" she spat, as they turned around, fear in their eyes, as there should be! "I can't believe you split on me like that!"
Deborah opened her mouth, but Cordelia was having none of it. "I'm sorry, did I give you permission to talk! Don't even bother, let's dip, tonight's been absolute disaster, and, FYI, you all owe me, even more than you already do!"
"We do?" Cassandra asked, confused.
"Like, totally. I distracted the freaks with my good looks which is what let you all bug out!" the most popular girl in school declared, glaring at the others until they nodded in agreement. "Now let's bounce!" she ordered, striding away onto the street next to the Bronze, sparing a glance back towards the club, seeing the foot-thick metal front door had been ripped off and tossed halfway across the main alley, deep in thought.
Xander, huh?
What exactly are you?
With the Vessel dead, The Master's attempt to break free was stymied, as had originally occurred.
What hadn't originally occurred was the fucking Company of Vampires they'd brought with them. I vaguely remembering there being, like, a dozen, not close to eighty of the fuckers, several of whom Xander had recognized around town as being regular people up to a week ago, which meant they'd brought out the big guns to make sure this worked.
So many that Buffy would've been screwed, and, had I not been rocking an Artifact of Power, we all would've died.
I'd ask 'what changed', but the answer was simple.
Me.
Before, Xander would've been mugged in the graveyard, and Jesse would've been taken, killed, and turned, meaning the Master would've been confident in his own success, and would only send a paltry force. With me eradicating the initial wave, well, they'd upped their game.
Just not enough.
As we gathered, Willow and Harmony weren't hurt, but they were the only ones. Giles had a broken arm, Buffy caught several vamp-claws, and Jessie's face was a mass of purple, the boy bleeding heavily from a ragged cut that curved up his jaw and in front of his ear. Raiding the first-aid kit the Bronze had, I was able to patch him up a little, cleaning and binding the wound. It wasn't the best, but Giles said he'd take the boy to the hospital, along with Harmony and Buffy, the first for moral support, the second for martial protection.
Speaking of whom, the Slayer had been… quiet, and let me tend to her wounds without issue, a jacket left behind covering her ripped up shirt, Giles reassuring us both that she possessed minor superhuman healing when it came to injuries that would have her 'fighting fit' by tomorrow, and also allow the minor injuries to close up without a scar, something that Jesse was absolutely going to get.
On the upside, I'd gotten another fifteen captures, putting me at a nice 33.6 points, and as soon as I dropped Willow off, I was absolutely going to be picking up Mind Defense.
We had almost reached our destination, as I made sure to escort her home, when the girl finally spoke up, the redhead having remained silent the entire way back. "I get why you didn't want us to come."
I didn't respond verbally, just looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
"That was, that was bad. And Jesse got really hurt. And I could've gotten hurt, if you hadn't, hadn't saved me," she finished, shoulders hunching.
Reaching over, I put my arm around her, pulling her to me for a moment. "You did okay," I reassured her, though, from the distressed look she sent me, that didn't work.
"But, okay isn't good. Okay is what you say when you're trying not to say bad, but it's still a four letter word, and four letter words are generally bad, except for bad," she babbled, "which is a three letter word, which is even less than a four letter word, which-"
"Willow," I admonished, gently but firmly, "you didn't do great, but you don't know enough to do great, and if you'd done badly, I would've said so, though I would've tried to be nice about it. You did, well, about as well as I expected, but the problem with combat is that you can't predict how it goes, so unless you're overwhelmingly strong, or smart, which is merely a different kind of strength, there are just too many factors to track. For instance, that was a metric ass-load of Vamps, and way more than I expected, but I could handle it. I didn't manage to keep you all safe in the process, though."
Willow smiled, quipping back, "Is that different than an imperial butt-ton?" Her smile fell, though, as she fully processed what I said. "Xander, it, it isn't your fault Jesse got hurt, or Buffy, and Mr. Giles is an adult, while we're not, so-"
I cut her off with another squeeze. "We're almost adults, it's close enough to count. But, don't worry, I'm not blaming myself. I did my best, and no one's dead or crippled, so this was a win in my books."
"… it could've been that bad?" she asked, voice small.
"Did you see the pile of bodies?" I questioned in turn, several already drained before we entered, including a couple of our classmates.
In my arms, the girl shook slightly. "I tried not to."
Sighing, I stopped walking entirely, turning to hold her fully, and she started to cry, latching onto me tightly. Looking down the street, I saw a man in dark leather eyeing us, and, from my back, expanded black tendrils, tipped with blades, the figure holding up his hands, backing away, then turning and running.
"There, there," I told her, as she clutched onto my shirt, and I gently stroked her hair. "This is the other reason I didn't want you or the others in this. Stuff like that… it's hard to deal with, but something you can get used to."
"And you have?" she questioned, between sniffles.
"Yeah, yeah I have," I sighed. "But I wanted to do so for you slowly. But I was overruled. That said, you didn't freeze, and kept your head in the game, which I'd worried you wouldn't."
That got a desperate, strained laugh from the girl. "With everything you were fighting, I couldn't leave you alone!" she objected.
"While that worked, and I appreciated it, no," I argued. "We have very different power sets right now. Don't compare yourself to me, compare yourself to yourself. If I didn't have my Shroud, I would've died tonight."
Her grip on me tightened for a moment, before, almost whispering, she said, "I could have one too."
"Not yet," I stated, and she went still, as I continued to explain. "You just had a bad shakeup, and this is a decision you cannot take back. You'll bind yourself to me, and while I'm okay with it, I'm not okay with it happening because you were scared. There are other paths to power, you just need to be careful with them. We've got time. I'll be looking into them too. But… not tonight."
The girl didn't say anything, just holding on to me, her face pressed into my shirt.
Wait.
"Are trying to maintain skin contact so I bind you anyways?" I questioned.
"…maybe," she replied, voice muffled.
Rolling my eyes, I retracted my shirt, the girl making contact with my bare skin, stiffening, before pulling back, turning bright red.
"Please respect my decision on this, Willow," I chided lightly.
The girl looked like a kicked puppy, but nodded. "Right. Sorry."
We walked the last bit to her house, and she unlocked her door, turning to look at me, awkwardly stating, "Well, this is me. Um, good night."
Still shirtless, I stepped forward, gave her a hug, and kissed her on the top of the head.
"Good night, Willow," I wished her. "You did great out there, for your skillset, and I'll see you tomorrow."
In response, the girl, wide eyed, made a muted kind of keening noise, somewhere between disbelief and distress, and I realized I probably came on too strong.
"Go inside, Willow."
The girl, still wide eyed, turned and walked into the door.
Reaching past her, I opened it for her, she nodded again, and walked inside. Closing it, a tendril in the lock flipped it shut, and I, shaking my head, started walking home.
Once I was out of sight of her house, I opened up my Company Phone's interface, and spent the twenty-five points to pick up the first level of Mind Defense.
And then let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, as the night suddenly became… calm.
And my newly purchased Mind Resistance started to vibrate.
Pausing, mid-step, as that Conceptual Defense felt like windowpane in a gentle storm, a soft staccato of influences rebuffed by it, I realized that, while my trained mental defenses were keeping out the worst of the Hellmouth's taint from affecting me, I was awash with a panoply of mind-affecting influences, so weak I hadn't even noticed them, when even subtle attempts of sufficient strength would be detected. However, while individually negligible, a river of them could wear someone down without them ever noticing they were being carried downstream.
And I very much doubted that I was the only one experiencing such pressures.
Walking home, slipping my shirt back on, subtly adding defenses to it in case I was jumped, the trip was unfortunately uneventful, no more Loot Pinatas Vampires crossing my path, until I got back to Xander's home, which held nothing but dread to the boy's ghost in my head, but, as I hadn't picked Memoria, his emotions were not my own.
Opening the door, and, yep, both of his parents were watching television, both drunk as skunks.
"Boy! There ya are!" Xander's father slurred, grabbing an empty beer bottle and hurling it at my head. "Gimme another drink!"
Idly catching the bottle, the fat disheveled man's eyes narrowed as he blearily stared at me, greying hair unkempt, as he was, once again, between jobs, same as Xander's mother, both of them in asynchronous cycles of get-rich-quick schemes, working actual jobs, then losing them or quitting to go on belligerent benders until the money started to run out, because there was a constant worker shortage in Sunnydale, except for late-summer-early fall, when all the transplants arrived for the coming year.
And it was Christmas soon, when they both got shitfaced, and half the businesses closed down as even the Hellmouth was effected by that Holy Day, arguments about how it wasn't really the exact date of Christ's birth faltering in the face of the massed belief of millions, so they'd still have their jobs when they sobered up after the New Year.
Getting another bottle of Bud from the fridge, and a wine cooler for Xander's Mom, I wandered back in, ignoring the smell and handed them out, the older woman cooing, "Such a good boy!"
And I felt Mind Resistance ping.
"Least you're good for this, ya stupid brat," Xander's drunken father grumbled. "Now scram, we're busy."
Another ping.
"Don't say that about our son!" the drunken 'mother' argued.
"It's my house, woman, I'll say what I damn well please!" the man yelled back.
And I left them to their fight, heading downstairs to Xander's room in the basement, everything in it low-quality in some way, even his clothing having been thrift-shop fodder, all of it subconsciously chosen to have low resell value, the number of times his parents having ransacked his room for funds to extend their current 'glide' numerous.
Oh yeah, I'm moving out of here, I thought, but I had something more pressing to deal with.
Why had Xander's parents' comments set off my Mind Defenses?
It hadn't happened until they'd made declarative statements about me, at which point the Defense that stopped mind control pinged. So they'd tried to influence me, but… but they hadn't done anything, as I would've detected a spell, especially as BtVS magic was not subtle when it was cast, even if, at a distance, its effects could be. That and, had my parents been mages, they wouldn't bother getting day jobs, that was for certain.
So they'd been…
Wait.
I'd told Willow that, having grown up on the Hellmouth, her capacity for magic was through the roof but… but what made her special?
Well, a number of things, her proclivity for hanging out directly over the Hellmouth one of them, but I had an enlarged magical capacity, as did Jesse, Harmony, hell even Cordelia would be supercharged by living near it, compared to normal people, though, as she lived off in the 'rich people' part of town, she'd, ironically, have less than shlubs like me that were within walking distance of that infernal portal.
Which meant we were all wild mages, after a fashion.
…fuck.
I remembered there was a girl, Macy or something, who was overlooked so much that she turned invisible, and then went on a murder spree. I'd assumed that it was self-inflicted, the girl's own talents turned inwards, but if it was imposed on her by the beliefs of her classmates, well, that was goddamned horrifying, but also, unfortunately, fit the odd form of Grim Darkness that was this dimension, where nothing ever truly changed, and everything was just generally shit.
It was Veiled, seeming to be the same as my home dimension, but in a place where the demonic law firm of Wolf, Ram, & Hart could function perfectly fine, this was not a good place to be.
Which meant that it wasn't just the Hellmouth's influence that would've warped the Scooby Gang, it would also have been each other. While Buffy would, ironically, not be pressing on everyone around her with her expectations, anyone that followed her lead would, and the Slayer herself, while having some resistance to it, would likely also be effected.
It was actually something my Seminars touched upon, and the reason that, in most high-mana locations, everyone started to embody stereotypes, except for young people who hadn't been acted upon by the collective belief of others to the point they were 'locked down', as while you could get teenage heroes, or heroes in their early twenties, hero groups who got their start in their forties were practically nonexistent.
Which also meant, with everyone forcing their expectations on their image of the 'King of Cretins' onto Xander, and now me, without protections I would've slowly warped to fit it.
Fucking lovely.
Yeah, Pocket Apartment can wait, I need more Defenses.
Unfortunately, while I was willing to go fishing for bloodsuckers, they weren't biting.
Might've had something to do with the nearly hundred of them I'd killed at the Bronze.
On one hand, I probably should've captured more of them, but, on the other, I'd been hard-pressed to keep them off Willow, Bufffy, Jesse, Harmony, and Giles, and each capture-tendril tied me down a bit further, distracted me a bit more, and slowed me down when I needed speed.
In theory, I could extend a near-infinite amount of threads and could have wrapped, captured, and sold every Vamp there. In reality, that would require an insane amount of focus, and, even if I just managed to move that many different 'limbs' at once, aiming them all so I didn't send some poor soul to the Blood War would've been exponentially more difficult. A Taylor could've done it, but that girl was just built different, even if she didn't Trigger.
Less fun was the… conversation I'd had with Giles the next morning.
"If you'll pardon my French, what the devil was that?" The old man had questioned. "I was not in a state conducive to inquiry after last night's festivities, but when you stated your, your Shroud had a certain ability to shapeshift, I was expecting the armor, and even the blades, the tendrils were dismaying but not unforeseen, but not the, the…"
"Angel wings?" I questioned, with a smile.
While the Watcher took off his glasses to polish them, Buffy had frowned, "Aren't angel wings all supposed to be all feathery and stuff, like a bleached pigeon, not all tentacle-y and things, like glow worms?"
"That is the common conception of such things," the British man stated, "However, there are some records which suggest the popular envisioning could be off, and that something akin to what Mr. Harris displayed last night might be closer to the truth, 'Wings of Fire' and such, which, to the people of the time, could be what they mistook Mr. Harris' protrusions for."
"They weren't actual angel wings," I deferred. "I can't do Æther, just physical objects only. It was, though, enough of a thematic thing to throw the Vamps off their game, which, well, we needed."
That caused the older man to sigh. "Quite."
"What's the problem?" Buffy questioned, with forced bravado. "We came, we saw, we kicked the Vessel's ass. Vini, Vidi, Vessel-i."
"But Jesse was hurt! And Mr. Giles! And you!" Willow argued.
The blonde winced, "I heal fast. And, and that's why it should be me that makes with the Slayage, and not anyone else."
Harmony, who was sitting next to Jesse, tilted her head in confusion. "Wow, so, like, if we hadn't been there, you could've handled all those Vampires all on your own? Wow!"
It wasn't even sarcastic, which made it all the more cutting, the transfer student crossing her arms and looking away. "I… might've."
"It's why I wanted just us two to handle it," I reminded them. Nodding slightly in respect to them, however, I added, "Though I was surprised by how well you all handled things."
"Well?" Jesse questioned, motioning to the bandages covering a fifth of his face.
"You didn't freeze, like I did the first time I saw something like that," I replied, the sheer unreality of fighting fucking Draugr taking me aback long enough for it to almost sink its blade in my guts, only scoring my fatty stomach instead, and while I sure as fuck didn't win that fight, I'd managed to hold its attention long enough for my teammates to come and save my ass, even if I'd been bleeding from a dozen different wounds and barely conscious by the end.
Not my proudest moment, honestly, and the damn thing had been practically playing with me, but, then again, so did most Vampires when they thought they had 'easy' prey, regardless of the greater tactical circumstance. It was, in fact, about half of why the Slayers worked, as Vampires saw 'young girl' and thought 'I got this'.
"But you guys did good, even with basic gear, and no training. Getting the civilians out was important, and without you a lot more people probably would've died," I told them, Jesse and Willow perking up at the praise, Harmony just blinking in surprise. "I doubt I could've done better, when I first started."
"Really?" the supernaturally enhanced girl asked, frowning. "Because out there you seemed all that and a bag of chips."
"Took a couple Seminars, really helped," I replied, causing Giles to glance at me, and I did need to come up with an excuse for that, only realizing that I'd been letting slip too much after my mind wasn't being fucked with anymore, though, from the amount my Mind Defense was still working, standing here over the Hellmouth, the corruptive influences pushing me to let more slip, I had a feeling I still wasn't perfect with it, as I only had the Resistance level, but I held the worst of the mentally corruptive effects off.
It wasn't even the fun corruption, which gave you superpowers, but, since Corruption Defense cost fifty points a pop, I was okay not getting any of those tasty tasty corruption cookies.
"Honestly, you're a better fighter than I am, Buffy, I've just read more, and have one heck of a boost," I told her, lifting an arm, letting my shirt cover it with black power armor, keeping the top sleeve from forming to show the lengths of artificial muscle underneath. Learning how to make that had been interesting, as the structures weren't exactly biological, since you had to fit your normal arm inside without overstressing it, an all too easy feat when using synthetic musculature.
"You can throw a knife across the room and cut the wings off a moth, the only way I'm going to get a dagger in a vamp is if I reach out to it directly," I continued, growing a small blade from my palm and extending it out on a black tendril, before pulling it all back into my shirt. "Mind you, I'd like to learn how to fight better, but I have no illusions on how you'd kick my ass up and down the hall without breaking a sweat if I didn't have this."
The Slayer considered my statement, a small smile pulling at the side of her mouth, as she gave, "Well, you weren't that bad."
"Thanks," I smiled back, "though I'm definitely going to need to get better. Getting someone to spar with at a supernatural level of physical capability, though, is gonna be a pain."
"Trust me, I know," the blonde nodded, then paused, a sly smirk spreading across her face. "Though it doesn't have to be. If you don't mind gettin' beat up by a giiirl."
I blinked, "Why would I?"
"Cause girls are weak," Jesse added, unnecessarily. Buffy started to frown, but I just gestured at the Slayer, my male friend realizing what after a moment, and adding, unconcerned, "She's different."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Dude, that would generally be true if we lived in the society everyone pretends we do. The supernatural exists. Female demons exist. Hell Goddesses exist. If you take it easy on a female vampire 'because she's a chick', she'll rip your throat out."
Giles cleared his throat, "While a bit confrontational, Mr. Harris is indeed correct. Many feminine members of the supernatural, in fact, use their femininity to get close to their targets before doing all varieties of nigh-unspeakable acts to them. To assume all is at it seems, when dealing with forces beyond the mortal ken, is… unwise, to say the least."
"Sparring would be great. Say, after school?" I asked Buffy, getting a smile and a nod from her, while, to the side, Willow frowned. "And then studying with our resident genius? Trust me, it's easier to get away with things if you're grades are at least decent."
It was a bit amusing, seeing the disappointment flow out of one girl and into the other, happiness making the opposite trip.
"Keeping your studies up, is of importance," the Watcher noted in agreement. "Both your standard schooling, and your education in that which goes bump in the night, to better perform your duties as the Slayer."
"Which we'll be right there beside you for," I added, Willow nodding in agreement, even as Jesse looked pained. More pained.
Looking around at the rest of us got a rueful laugh from the Slayer. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate it."
And then the bell had rung, and we'd had to go to class.
On December 23rd.
Two days before Christmas.
It was really hard to get this place.
Regardless, a sparring session with Buffy helped settle her, as, pulling myself back to Slayer levels of strength, she kicked my ass six ways from Sunday, though I was getting an education in using my newfound strength from someone to whom all of the little tricks came easy as breathing, and, even without Martial Talent, I was still improving.
Furthermore, while the Watcher was… reticent to "Furnish us with tomes involving that which we are not ready to even begin undertaking", when I specifically asked if I could have a guide on everything that could go wrong with magic first, as well as a write-up on how to do a basic, spell-less telekinesis exercise, he'd acceded to my request. Slipping the written ritual into the back of the book, and, what'd'ya know, I had Willow's Christmas Present sorted, along with what Xander had originally gotten her, despite her, you know, not celebrating Christmas, but I literally hadn't been around for Hanukkah, so, good enough.
And, I hoped, giving Willow her 'First Book on Magic', and having it be one that was full of warnings because I wanted to keep her safe would mean the intellectually arrogant girl would actually read the damn thing instead of going 'how bad could it be' and using one of the darkest spells in existence to break her magical virginity with.
Seriously, I knew it likely wouldn't be for another year of dealing with the supernatural and marinating in the Hellmouth's corruptive juices, but I wanted to slap both her and Giles silly over that bullshit, which had then been swept under the rug.
After a long weekend, and a rather nice Christmas where I cooked for Willow, much to her pleasure and surprise, it was back to the grind, and I spent my 'free' day back in the school library, much to Giles' surprise, reading up on the supernatural, and waiting for him to get another copy of the 'How Magic Can Fuck You Up' tome before I did anything else myself, pointing out to him that just because my first foray into the supernatural got me superpowers didn't mean my next one wouldn't summon angry spirits from the abyss or something else equally unpleasant, accepting his not-so-gentle admonishments that I should've had that belief before I performed my first ritual, though pointing out that I hadn't met someone like him that could point me in the correct direction mollified him somewhat.
And then it was another week of school, where I was bored to tears, then hit so hard I teared up, then delved headfirst into tomes that were so freaking flowery I wondered if they were allergic to getting to the fucking point, only to go hunting without running across a single Vamp, heading back to the drunkards, passing out, and waking up to do it again. While I'd gotten more work in with my Shroud, getting better at controlling it like the extra sets of limbs it kind of was, trying to talk to the others was surprisingly difficult, everyone so focused on the now that discussions of possible training and strategies kept getting put off, and, at least for now, I was willing to go along with them, but, sooner or later, I was going to have to have the one thing all teens feared.
A Mature Conversation About The Future.
With that said, honestly, it was kind of pleasant to hear that something else was happening, as that meant I could finally get some more Points. Mind you, it was become someone at the cheerleader tryouts spontaneously combusted, but I hadn't remembered the inciting incident enough to pinpoint the trouble so precisely that I could've realistically stopped it.
"So, this isn't a Vampire problem?" Buffy checked, the whole gang gathered in the library after school, her first brush with a non-bloodsucker related issue clearly worrying her. I mean, I existed, but I wasn't so much an issue as much as a very permanent solution, and one that she'd started to get a 'handle' on with our spars, at least in her own mind, so I clearly didn't count.
It actually, now that I thought about it, seemed to be getting to the point that I should probably up my game a bit, as while I was learning how to handle superior foes, all Buffy seemed to be taking from them was that she was superior.
Flipping through a book he'd taken from his office, Giles absently noted, "No."
"But, it is funky, right?" the Slayer questioned. "Not of the norm?"
"Quite," the Watcher agreed. "Spontaneous human combustion is, is rare and, and scientifically unexplainable. But there have been cases for hundreds of years. Usually all that's left is a pile of ashes."
"That's all that would've been left if it hadn't been for Buffy," Willow remarked with equal parts appreciation and dismay.
I lifted a finger, getting the librarian's attention. "Sounds like magic."
"Mr. Harris, just because you are studying the subject does not mean that every new phenomena that you encounter will be somehow relevant to your newly gained knowledge," the Watcher noted with mild disapproval.
I, meanwhile, rolled my eyes, as I counted off on my fingers, "Happened since ye olden times, unexplainable by science, victim almost always just happens to be alone and away from help so cremation is complete? Tell me that doesn't sound like witchcraft."
"Oh, no, Witches were the ones burned at the stake, not the other way round," Willow corrected, and, yep, there was that mental ping as her idea of me as being less intelligent than I really was, and thus trying to make me so, washed over me, though interestingly less intensely than it had a few days ago. "Wait, I'm learning magic. Does that make me a witch? But I don't want to be staked. Or burnt!"
"But you're definitely a rare one," I smiled at the girl, before turning towards Giles, "But, seriously, witchcraft."
The British man pacing back and forth hesitated, clearly fighting with himself, before admitting, "Your questionable leap of logic aside, yes, while witches were burned at the stake, Ms. Rosenberg, a common witch's hex was to set their opponents aflame, usually involving a ritual to dark powers and a bit of something connected to the person."
"To metaphysical target them, even if separated by distance, somewhere between making a connection with a bit of string and giving a dog someone's scent," I added.
"Indeed," Giles grudgingly noted. "That said, to use witchcraft for something so banal as cheerleading…"
Buffy looked personally offended at that. "There is nothing 'banal' about cheerleading, whatever that means. It's serious business!"
"Yeah, which is why it was either Amy, or her Mom," I commented, everyone stopping and staring at me. "On account of them being witches. Her Mom at least, and she's super into cheerleading," I added.
"I… beg pardon?" Giles questioned, sounding a little lost.
I looked around, "What, did you guys think we were the only supernaturally aware humans here? Like, the mayor's immortal, the magic shop sells actual reagents, there's a demon bar, and I think one the zookeepers is a druid or something? I wouldn't automatically say witchcraft was Amy's mom, but, well, cheerleading."
"Her mom is kind of obsessed," Willow agreed. "Wait, there's a magic store?"
"Yeah, but the place gave me the willies, so we're not going there without Giles, since he knows his asphodel from his angelica, and what they do," I warned her.
"There's a Demon Bar!?" demanded Buffy.
"Yeah," I agreed in turn, "But no way in fuck are we ready to take that out."
"The Mayor is immortal?" Giles questioned.
"Yeah," I sighed, "Unless it's just a coincidence that they're all named Richard Wilkins, look exactly the same, and never seem to age."
"We have a zoo?" Jesse asked.
"Yea-" I started to reply, then looked at him flatly. "Dude, we both went last summer. With Willow!"
The boy shrugged, smiling goofily. "Just wanted to feel included."
"Oh, oh!" Harmony sat up. "We have a Mayor!?" she fake gasped, then grinned. "I wanted to be included too!"
Giles stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. "Thank you for that contribution, Ms. Kendall. That's… something that will require attention. However, to assume it was from a singular known cause, no matter how suspicious, would likely be fallacious. I shall do research, and, in the meantime, perhaps you girls should keep track of Ms…"
"Madison," Willow supplied.
Nodding her way, the Watcher continued. "Ms. Madison's comings and goings."
I shrugged, smiling, "Fine, but I'm going to say I told you so."
Buffy just rolled her eyes. "You do that."
AN: And there we go! This chapter was commissioned by my Patrons, via poll, back in June! A with all of my commissioned works, if you'd like to see where this continues, you can commission a chapter, either through crowdfunding, or commissions, on my Ko-Fi found HERE! I hope you liked it, and you have a good weekend (or week, if you've found this Thread later!)!Last edited: Nov 9, 2025 Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:kraryal, Dhjeeyn, InsanexSilence and 863 others