A bad flu was sweeping through the school, leaving Willow’s computer class half empty. Since Snyder had asked her to take over, she had been following Miss Calendar’s lesson plan and finding no surprises, so it was already fairly easy work that left her time to research and study for her own purposes while still being available to answer questions for the students who remained in class.
It felt uncomfortable at first to go through Miss Calendar’s desk, sorting through papers that had nothing to do with her new responsibilities, but Giles had assured her that it needed to be done and she wasn’t intruding. He himself had been busy making his secret travel plans and packing up Miss Calendar’s apartment to put everything into storage before the Watchers’ Council had an opportunity to snoop.
Now he was gone, standing watch over his comatose girlfriend without leaving any hint about where he had taken her. Willow missed both of them terribly. The entire school felt like a more hostile place without any adults around who were on the Scooby Gang’s side. Snyder was too obviously smug about Giles leaving. Teachers were taking turns filling in as librarian, and any day now some stranger would be hired permanently into the position.
Willow quietly accepted that she was the adult now, for all intents and purposes. She couldn’t replace Miss Calendar, but she could take up her mission. There was a way to bring Angel back, and she was going to find it.
Fortunately, the flu hadn’t hit her yet. It had hit Buffy, though. The Slayer had come into school late today and then tried to pretend she had “more or less recovered,” even though she was rubbing constantly at her nose and looked half asleep at her desk. Willow hoped she knew better than to go patrolling tonight, but Xander had already agreed to come out with her to check on their friend in case she didn’t.
Willow worried about Xander too, though. Ever since Angel’s last attack, he seemed like he had completely lost his sense of humor. He paid no more attention in class than he ever had, but he wasn’t interested in going out and having fun either. Willow sensed he was taking his breakup with Cordelia hard. The two of them were acting polite and distant whenever they couldn’t avoid being in the same room, and it hurt to watch. It also felt very strange to miss having Cordelia around, but Willow was forced to recognize that her former archenemy had become a part of the gang, and that now she had left it.
After dismissing the computer class, Willow headed to the library, hoping to find Buffy and Xander there. Instead she saw Wesley, towering over Snyder as he enthusiastically shook his hand and kept doing it even after it was clear that the sour little man was trying to escape. “Thank you sir, thank you very much,” Wesley was saying. “I’ll strive to do my very best. It’s a privilege to serve--”
“And we’re all just thrilled about it,” Snyder growled, yanking his hand away. “I hope you won’t have any problems or questions.” He turned and stalked out through the double doors.
Wesley turned to face Willow, beaming and practically bouncing on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back like an eager pupil. Willow knew what had happened and knew she couldn’t do anything about it, so she stood where she was and waited for him to finish looking around for a larger audience and say his piece. “Good day, Miss Rosenburg! It seems you are looking at Sunnydale High School’s new librarian. May I help you with anything?”
It felt uncomfortable at first to go through Miss Calendar’s desk, sorting through papers that had nothing to do with her new responsibilities, but Giles had assured her that it needed to be done and she wasn’t intruding. He himself had been busy making his secret travel plans and packing up Miss Calendar’s apartment to put everything into storage before the Watchers’ Council had an opportunity to snoop.
Now he was gone, standing watch over his comatose girlfriend without leaving any hint about where he had taken her. Willow missed both of them terribly. The entire school felt like a more hostile place without any adults around who were on the Scooby Gang’s side. Snyder was too obviously smug about Giles leaving. Teachers were taking turns filling in as librarian, and any day now some stranger would be hired permanently into the position.
Willow quietly accepted that she was the adult now, for all intents and purposes. She couldn’t replace Miss Calendar, but she could take up her mission. There was a way to bring Angel back, and she was going to find it.
Fortunately, the flu hadn’t hit her yet. It had hit Buffy, though. The Slayer had come into school late today and then tried to pretend she had “more or less recovered,” even though she was rubbing constantly at her nose and looked half asleep at her desk. Willow hoped she knew better than to go patrolling tonight, but Xander had already agreed to come out with her to check on their friend in case she didn’t.
Willow worried about Xander too, though. Ever since Angel’s last attack, he seemed like he had completely lost his sense of humor. He paid no more attention in class than he ever had, but he wasn’t interested in going out and having fun either. Willow sensed he was taking his breakup with Cordelia hard. The two of them were acting polite and distant whenever they couldn’t avoid being in the same room, and it hurt to watch. It also felt very strange to miss having Cordelia around, but Willow was forced to recognize that her former archenemy had become a part of the gang, and that now she had left it.
After dismissing the computer class, Willow headed to the library, hoping to find Buffy and Xander there. Instead she saw Wesley, towering over Snyder as he enthusiastically shook his hand and kept doing it even after it was clear that the sour little man was trying to escape. “Thank you sir, thank you very much,” Wesley was saying. “I’ll strive to do my very best. It’s a privilege to serve--”
“And we’re all just thrilled about it,” Snyder growled, yanking his hand away. “I hope you won’t have any problems or questions.” He turned and stalked out through the double doors.
Wesley turned to face Willow, beaming and practically bouncing on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back like an eager pupil. Willow knew what had happened and knew she couldn’t do anything about it, so she stood where she was and waited for him to finish looking around for a larger audience and say his piece. “Good day, Miss Rosenburg! It seems you are looking at Sunnydale High School’s new librarian. May I help you with anything?”
The night seemed colder than it should be, and the ground wasn’t nearly as steady as Buffy liked it. She gave herself a few seconds to lean back against a tree and take a breath. If Angel started a fight right now, he would make short work of her, but he was just as likely to be hanging back and surveying the area to see if she was active before he began hunting. All she had to do was show him that she was here and pray that he didn’t come close enough to get any details. She had stretched the truth when Willow asked about her plan for tonight, which she still felt bad about, but Willow would have wanted her to prioritize her own health over the safety of Sunnydale’s innocent residents. Buffy had made a promise to Giles, and to herself, that she would eliminate the threat of Angel.
She had no idea where her Watcher was now or when he would contact her, but when he did, she dreamed of being able to tell him that it was safe for him to return with Miss Calendar. All would be forgiven; they would never again even have to mention the Cruciamentum.
There was the sound of someone moving near the gate, reminding Buffy that Angel wasn’t the only vampire who might be out tonight. She gripped her stake and took the best stance she could manage in her current state, but succeeded only in frightening Xander, and then Willow, both of whom had apparently been out looking for her.
“Buffy, you promised you would stay home!” Willow cried.
“No,” said Buffy, attempting to slash the air for emphasis but needing the hand to rub her stuffy nose halfway through. “No, ib you lishened to my ‘zact worbing, I said…”
Xander cut in, sounding genuinely angry. “Seriously? You were gonna resort to a grammar technicality? Buffy, your pants are on fire. They’re flaming. Completely ablaze.”
Fully chastened and in no condition to argue anyway, Buffy gave him a miserable shrug. “I haff to.”
Willow and Xander were both silent for a moment, but they were staring at her with crossed arms and reproachful expressions. “There’s another way you could help, you know,” said Willow finally. “Someone needs to check my work.”
Buffy knew what work that was, and it only made her feel more determined to hunt down her enemies. Willow still thought that Angel’s soul could be restored. Maybe she was right, but trying Miss Calendar’s spell again wasn’t worth the risk. “Ib I’m nod allowed to batrol, you’re nod allowed to do majig,” she said, giving the words as much obstinate insistence as she could muster.
“Fine,” replied Xander before Willow could speak. “Classic compromise. Nobody’s happy. Let’s go home.”
Spike was beginning to think that the time to act was getting nearer. Night after night, Angel was in a dark mood, interrogating Drusilla about her visions and then becoming irritated when she had nothing new to report. He would send her out to hunt on her own while he buried his nose in his ancient tomes or cloistered himself in the upstairs rooms that a wheelchair couldn’t reach. If he left the premises at all, it was just after sunset or in the last hours before sunrise, always alone.
What exactly had happened to Angel, that night that he had gone to the Watcher’s house, wasn’t clear. Obviously his soul was still off doing whatever souls did, so his agitation must have come from fear. Spike had overheard enough of his conversations with Dru to gather that the Watcher and his Kalderash woman both were now somehow out of reach, which must have stung for someone as arrogant as Big Bad Angel.
Poor Drusilla was unhappy too, which Spike was less intrigued by and more angry about. He couldn’t let her know his plans yet, but he tried to please her in any way he could, even if it meant letting her infantilize him. That was still better than when she followed Angel up the stairs.
Tonight, though, Angel refused her company, and she came back to Spike and dropped herself into his lap with a petulant whimper. “Do say that you adore your princess, my love,” she implored.
“No man could adore a princess more,” he assured her. With a pointed glance at the ceiling, he added, “Some don’t even try.”
Dru caressed his throat, pouting prettily. “My Angel is about his work. He knows the castle walls mustn’t fall down.”
“That he does. I remember how the game is played. We were the ones who kept the walls up, weren’t we? You and I, before the great ponce came back and made it all about him.”
She rested her forehead against his cheek. “Before the Slayer.”
“It’s past time he did her in. I’m beginning to think he can’t.”
“But he’ll never let me do it for him.”
Spike tried not to show his surprise. Did Drusilla really want to be the one to kill Buffy, or was she just frustrated by Angel’s inaction? Either way, she was unusually lucid tonight, and Spike wanted to see where else this conversation could go. “He can’t stop you if you want to try,” he suggested.
It was to no avail. Dru twirled a lock of her hair and shifted her weight on his legs. “He needs a kill,” she sighed. “If only to remind them of who he is. But not her. Not yet.”
Now that was an idea worth pursuing. Sunnydale could use a bit more chaos while Angel sulked at home. He kissed Dru’s forehead. “Then perhaps there’s something you can help him with after all, my jewel.”
Willow counted it a victory that she and Xander had convinced Buffy to get a good night’s sleep and take a sick day tomorrow, but as far as she could tell, all three of them were as miserable as ever. Xander’s “compromise” hadn’t been remotely fair. Willow was so close to being able to cast Miss Calendar’s spell, and Buffy’s objections to it were much more emotional than they were rational.
Of course, sustaining an argument while Buffy was sick would have been cruel and unusual, so they had simply watched a dumb movie and then Buffy had fallen asleep and they quietly left her house and went home. Xander refused to apologize for taking Buffy’s side, but when they reached Willow’s house he promised everything would work out before giving her a hug and closing her French doors behind him.
The school was still ghostly quiet the next morning. Willow and Xander had a lunch table to themselves and nothing to talk about, until a cautious voice at a respectful distance said, “Hey, um. Mind if I sit?”
Willow looked up and Oz was there, holding a tray, sporting a different hair color from the last time Willow had spoken to him. How long had that been? It felt like months. “Yeah,” she stammered. “Yeah, of course. Sit. Here with us.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” was the first thing he said after settling into a chair and pushing his food too far away from himself to eat. “But I’m…a little worried. About stuff going on.”
“Like what?” asked Xander with an obnoxious blend of sarcasm and apathy. “Vampires murdering people? Being on a Hellmouth is the pits, we warned you.”
Oz ignored him, speaking to Willow alone. “Why did Giles hightail it like that? Who’s the new librarian?”
Willow took a deep breath. She didn’t want to hide anything from Oz, and there was no good reason to anyway. It occurred to her that he didn’t have any classes with Miss Calendar, so he might not have realized she was gone too. “Giles had to hide, to protect his girlfriend…you know, Jenny Calendar. She got hit by some bad magic and she’s with him but she’s not conscious. The Watchers’ Council fired Giles and Wesley works for the Watchers’ Council so we don’t trust him but now he’s going to be listening in on us whenever we’re in the library. I’m sorry, Oz. There’s been a lot going on…”
He nodded, eyes slightly widened, processing everything she had said. “So this Wesley,” he said after a long pause that Xander miraculously didn’t use to interject more cranky remarks, “do we trust him enough to keep a werewolf locked up safe for three nights next week?”
The heat drained out of Willow’s face. Beside her, Xander murmured, “Oh crap.”
“We should talk to him,” Willow decided on the spot. “All of us. Right now.” Ever since Giles and Jenny’s departure, she had more or less forgotten that she too might have a full moon problem coming on. It was oddly moving to realize that, if she was reading him correctly, Oz hadn’t forgotten for a minute.
Buffy woke up to a dark bedroom, still congested and very much alone. Xander and Willow must have left when she nodded off. She rubbed her eyes until she could make out the time on her alarm clock, and did the math to confirm it had been hours since they had been here, with hours left before morning. She didn’t feel like she would be able to get back to sleep, though.
A stack of college applications had been sitting on her bedside table since yesterday afternoon, waiting for her to get bored enough to work on them. Buffy wouldn’t mind the task, except that it was pointless when she knew her only real option was UC Sunnydale. She didn’t know how to frame that decision in a way that Mom would understand, so she hadn’t tried yet, so she was stuck pretending that she was still serious about selecting the right university.
The papers made her think about Angel just like everything else did. A bright future at a distant campus was no escape from him, any more than a sick day home from school was. He was sure to take advantage of every minute that she wasn’t out there to stop him, and although she had to admit that her friends were probably right to insist she recover before she faced him again, she didn’t think they fully grasped the danger that her absence put them in.
Willow was all too likely to break her promise and keep trying to recreate Miss Calendar’s spell. Angel might not know anything about it, but he shouldn’t have known anything about the first attempt either, so it was clear he had his methods. Any minute, Willow might end up in his crosshairs, another victim of Buffy’s reckless love.
Unless… Why wasn’t Angel coming for her directly? He could have easily killed her by now. The last time she had woken up at night like this, he had been sitting on her bed. That kind of obsession wasn’t going to end just because now he was magically barred entry. He wanted something from her. Maybe even more than he wanted her friends and family to die. If she could find out what that was…
Slowly, Buffy pushed off her blankets and got to her feet. Without turning on a light, she stepped to the window and opened it, then knelt so she could look out into the quiet, chilly night. It only took a moment of meditative breathing before she knew, with Slayer certainty, that he was out there. Watching her home from out of sight. Waiting.
