Buffy looked around the room as she and Giles entered. It could be a trap, after all. Two other exits, one to the left and one to the right. Smooth wooden floors, smooth wooden walls — padding on one wall, a stack of pads in the corner, a weapons rack in the other corner, almost as good as her training set-up back home.

Luke was there, of course, and another man who looked a lot like him, only with light-brown hair instead of Luke’s black — and a couple inches taller, with a deeper scowl. To the left, with the taller man, were three girls — one blonde, one brunette, and one with black hair — dressed in loose pants and tight shirts, with tight ponytails and very sharp smiles. They were already sizing Buffy up.

Buffy turned towards Giles and grinned her most vapid smile. “Oh goody,” she chirped. “They brought some girls for me to fight with.” Giles responded with a dry smirk.

On the other side of the room were the guys. They’d been talking to Luke but had stopped when Buffy and Giles walked in and were staring.

One of them had hair like a lion’s mane and a square jaw. He looked worried. From the look of him, Buffy was pretty certain he was more concerned he might hurt her than that she might hurt him. He got a point for being considerate and lost two for underestimating her.

He was with two others, one who was so average that she almost overlooked him completely: average height, just-skinnier-than-average build, dark hair, pale skin, well-groomed. He wasn’t bad looking, Buffy supposed, but he seemed a little too bland for her tastes; the third one was red haired and tan-skinned, with a smile that seemed a bit awkward for his mouth, too big, too toothy. He’d stopped mid-sentence.

“They’re staring,” she chirped at Giles. “It’s not nice to stare at the new girl, is it?”

“Yes, you did, Finn,” interrupted the brunette girl, with a smile that looked too lazy for her all-business posture. “You wanted to see what she’s made of, didn’t you? Or maybe just what you could make of her…”

“Pay no mine to Allyse,” the dark-haired guy continued, although he was flushed a bit. “I’m Finn cy’Luca – someone said you knew the cy’s and wherefores?”

“Yep.” Buffy grinned at him. “I’m Buffy cy’Giles, and this is Giles. Say hello, Giles.”

“Ahem, ah. Hello.” Giles waved at the gathered students.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Finn, like I said. This here is Smitty,” he gestured to the red-head, “Richard, and the Thorne Girls, Allyse,” he nodded to the brunette, “Acacia,” the blonde, “and Massima,” the black-haired girl. “They’re cy’Doug, and that’s Doug, and you met Luke.”

“Hi, everyone. So, you’re supposed to spar with me? Like, all at once or three on one or…?”

“Easy there, midget. You sure think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” The tall blonde woman strode forward. “Tell you what. You start with Smitty there, and then work your way up to the big leagues.”

“Hey.” Smitty looked mildly offended. “Easy there, Cay.”

“Easy.” Acacia smirked at him. “Exactly.”

“Okay.” Buffy strode up to Smitty. “So, weapons or bare hands, what, are we fighting to tap-out or unconsciousness?”

“Are your eyes closed?”

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me three or four or five times…”

“What are you talking about?” Smitty’s voice went high when he was confused, she noted.

“Starey eyes, I vannnt to suuuuck your blaaahd?”

“Oh, you ran in to Dysmas. Nah, we all have different tricks, and that’s not mine. Come on, open your eyes. Let’s make this a fair fight.”

“Big ol’ you against ol’ me?” Buffy smiled sweetly at him. “To knock-out or tap-out?’

“Oh, let’s go with tap-out. You’ve got all these other people to fight, too.”

“Okay!” She smiled brightly at him. Was he cocky or just actually good? She’d have to give him a good work out to see. “And are we going bare-handed?”

“How about escrima sticks? You ever fought with those before?”
“Es-what?”

“These.” He reached out a hand and Finn tossed him four rattan sticks. “You sure you don’t want padding?”
Oh, he was starting to get to her. “You sure you don’t?”

“If you want to be that way. All right.” He took up a ready position on the edge of the mat. “Come at me.”

“Oh, only if you ask nicely.” Buffy got herself ready, felt the weight of the weapons, and attacked.
His style was very traditional. He waited when she dropped a stick (to see what he would do, after he’d tapped her knuckles), so she did the same when she knocked the sticks out of his hands.

And again.

And again.

Finally she stepped back and held up both sticks, not surrendering but not attacking. “You’re not bad. But I’ve got all these other people to fight, too.”

He rubbed his knuckles surreptitiously with his other hand. “You’re fast. I look forward to watching you fight the Thorne Girls.”

That, Buffy figured, had to be the three sharp-looking girls over there. She glanced at Giles, to see if he’d caught the reference.

Giles looked far too unworried. He was leaning against a wall, jacket off, so relaxed she nearly expected him to have a pack of cigarettes rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve, chatting with Doug.

Now that was interesting. Buffy would worry about that later.

“Oh, go ahead, boys,” Acacia drawled. Buffy thought it was Acacia, at least. “Tire her out.”

Buffy noted that. It was a good strategy — if you were fighting a non-BUffy sort of person. It took a lot more than some sticks to tire her out.

Richard the liony-looking one stepped forward. “How about bo staff?”

“Bo? Is that like… oh, here.” She strode over to the rack, replaced her escrima sticks, and tossed Richard the first of two bo staffs.

She checked the weight on the second on, swung it around a few times, and nodded at Richard.

He held back a lot less than Smitty had, but when she let him get a hit in, he still stepped back and didn’t pursue the opening.

“Gentlemen,” she complained, mostly to Giles. “If I were a real opponent that would get you killed in a heartbeat.”

“What,” purred the black-haired one, Massima, “are you saying you’re not a real opponent?”

Buffy parried an annoyed swing from Richard and spared Massima a glance. “I’m not a — fooey, stop that,” she parried another strike, “– I mean, I’m not here to kill you and you’re not here to kill me. That’s a real opponent. This is sparring. And this is like Council sparring, all manners and—” she ducked around behind Richard to tap him on the ass with the end of her stick. “–bowing.”

“Council?” Richard just barely managed to get his stick up in time to parry her next blow. “Are they the ones that trained you? Where did you learn to hit like this?”

Buffy took a step back and jabbed her stick at his heart, stopped just before his chest and tapping very lightly. “Giles trained me. I learned to hit hitting monsters in the streets. Where did you learn to fight?”

“Here.” Luke stepped forward and took the stick from Richard. “They learned to fight here, in a controlled environment, where nobody was going to kill them. The Thornes there, that’s Massima, Acacia, and Allyse, they do monster hunting.”

“Oh, come on, Luke,” Massima complained. “Ruining the surprise.”

“I’ll pretend to be surprised if you will,” Buffy offered. She looked at Luke thoughtfully. She almost never fought someone as short as she was. “What’re we fighting with?”

He tossed her a wooden ax, balanced like a fire ax. She hefted it thoughtfully and nodded.

“I’m not going to fight like my students,” he warned her.

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” she countered. “Ready?”

“Ready. Go.”

This attack was like nothing Buffy had ever encountered. He was fast, he was strong, and he knew his shit. She’d fought elder vampires who were this fast, but they forgot what they were doing sometimes. Not since the Master…

She bounced back a step and stared at him. “Giles?” Her voice caught.

Giles voice was very calm. “He is not what you are thinking, Buffy. He is safe. He is here to test you. So, I’d suggest, pretend the Council sent him and show him what you’ve got.”

Buffy looked back to Luke. She raised her eyebrows at him. “A challenge. All right, let’s do this.”

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The Director leaned forward over her desk. “You were promised to Addergoole at your conception, Buffy. I will do what it takes to make certain all three of you can attend my school without undue concern for your lives or your avocations.”

“Avo-what?”

“Hobbies,” Willow offered, “or, well, things that we do really well but don’t get paid for and, let’s be honest, Buffy, Slaying vampires is something you do really well and definitely don’t get paid for, and the whole back-up thing…”

“You guys do that really well, yeah. And none of us get paid, except maybe Giles, and if they paid him enough, he could afford better suits.”

“I like my suits, thank you very much! And they suit my cover as a high-school librarian. Sunnydale High, I must say, does not pay its staff very well at all.”

“SunnyHell doesn’t pay for anything. I’m not surprised it doesn’t pay you well, G-man. They spent all their money on that…” Xander had a coughing fit. “Never mind.”

“I believe we will be detailing all of the ‘strangeness’ to Director Avonmorea in due time,” Giles assured him. “That is part of the arrangement we’ve made, which includes being certain the three of you can continue to monitor Sunnydale in a manner you find proper, and that, in turn, Director Avonmorea will ‘deal with’ the Council of Watchers who, I’m afraid, most definitely do need ‘dealing with.’” Giles looked far grimmer than Willow had seen him in a long time. “It’s going to be an interesting time, I will say that, but Buffy… as your Watcher and as your mentor, I think it would do you good to come here.” He looked at Willow for a long moment and then at Xander for even longer. “And as your librarian, Willow, Alexander, I cannot stress how good it would be for the two of you. The training you’ll receive here will surpass anything you could be offered out there in the world.”

Willow looked at Xander. Xander was, unsurprisingly, looking at Buffy. Buffy was glaring at the Director.

“Really. You can really ‘handle’ the Council?”

“Not alone, no, but, just as you have Willow and Alexander, I have Michael and Luke, and they will, ah, ‘back me up’ in such a move. We educate teenagers and young adults here. We do not send them untrained and unarmed into battle.”

“Hey! Giles trained me! And I have weapons.”

“Mr. Giles trained you after you had already been in battle, correct? I do not mean to disparage your Mentor; I believe he has done amazingly well with what he’s been given to work with. I could not have done as well. But I do think this Council has done you a disservice, and, yes, I plan to deal with them.”

“I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” Willow muttered.

The Director smiled at her. “It is possible I could arrange something of the sort. So: do we have a deal?”

“I want to meet these fighters, first. I don’t agree to anything without knowing if they can handle their own.”

“I want to talk about the education system more,” Willow put in. “Um, maybe with Professor Valerian?”

“I’m certain Laurel would be pleased to tell you more about our academics.” Was the Director winking at her? No, couldn’t be.

“I wanna know more about the hot tubs… nah, I’ve got nothing,” Xander admitted, “except, uh, why me?”

“The answer to that is long and complex, but the short version for the moment is this: because you are worthy and appropriate for this school.” The Director stood up. “So, we will do this thus: We will walk with Buffy and Giles to the gymnasium, where Luke and Doug are waiting with some students to spare with her. Then we will walk with Willow to meet with Professor Valerian — Laurel — and perhaps with Professors Pelletier and Solomon as well. And then you, Alexander, and I will discuss your interests, and who you might meet with.” She walked out from her desk and strode towards the door, clearly expecting them to follow.

The four from Sunnydale shared a glance, a couple shrugs, and one urging-out-the-door gesture, the last from Giles, who was rolling his eyes at them, and then, with a few more shrugs, followed the Director.

“We built this facility in an old government compound, because we wished it to stay undetected and to remain safe, even in the event of a nuclear attack. We started this project in the seventies,” she explained.

She didn’t look past her mid-thirties, maybe, possibly, a well-preserved forty. “Are you a vampire?” Willow blurted the question out, then slapped both hands over her mouth. “I mrrr…”

The Director turned to her and smiled. “I am remarkably well-preserved for my age, but I do not drink blood and I do not turn to dust when one stakes me, although I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try. We could attempt a church in the middle of the day, if you would like?”

“How – oh, no. You can’t catch me in that trap. That one’s always a trap.” Xander slapped both hands over his mouth. The Director raised her eyebrows at him while Willow and Buffy sniggered.

“I wouldn’t mind that church at high noon idea.” Buffy took a step forward towards the Director. “You don’t smell like a vampire, you don’t feel like a vampire, but you’ve got at least one vamp down here I’ve been told I can’t stake.”

“We’d appreciate it if you didn’t. For one, I do not believe Dysmas would turn to dust, though he would be in a great deal of pain.”

“Most things,” Xander pointed out, in that far-too-casual voice that meant something was about to go wrong, “when you put a stake through them, you know, they just die, not sit there and hurt.”

The Director met his gaze and answered without a flinch. “Many things do. We are not ordinary creatures here, any more than the three of you are.”

“Me? I’m ordinary.”

“Mm. I do hope you will forgive me if I don’t believe you. Here is the gymnasium.” She pushed a swinging door open. “And through here are the training rooms.”

“This is a nice gym,” Willow looked around at the wide space. “No bleachers, though.”

“We are not in the habit of competing in team sports. It would be difficult to explain certain parts of our school sufficiently and I’m afraid it would not really be a fair competition.”

“Oh, we know all about unfair competition,” Xander laughed. “Burning up other cheerleaders, turning the swim team into fish-people…”

“You see my point. If we were to compete with other schools, it would be hard to keep all of that quiet.”

“No cheerleading.” It was hard to tell if Buffy’s expression was a real sulk or put-on, but Buffy was often
like that.

“No, but quite a bit of opportunity to spar with other students who are — if not up to your level — within sufficient reach of your level to offer some challenge.” Regine opened a door in the side of the gym, one of a row of four unevenly spaced. “In here, you can meet with Luke, Doug, and their students. Willow, Alexander, please come with me.”

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The director looked taken aback.

She cleared her throat. “That was unclear of me, which is not my normal modus operandi. I apologize. Sunnydale is a problem in and of itself. There should not be such a portal open yet, and it should not be opening to – this unclear place. That will have to be looked into, and I consider it a vast oversight on the part of this ‘Watcher’s Council’ that it has not been in any depth.” She looked pointedly at Buffy. “You have done, from all reports, an amazing job in a situation where you were sent in under-equipped, under-trained, and far under-supported. Your friends have done an amazing job of backing you up when they had no training and, as far as I understand it, very little access to anything beyond the human. I consider your achievements in Sunnydale to be nothing short of amazing.

“And I would like to offer you both support and some time away from this ‘Hellmouth’ for training and education, for all three of you, and for your mentor as well.”

“Wait, what?” Buffy was staring at the director. Xander was staring at the director. Willow was pretty sure she was, too. “Could you back that up and replay it?”

“Especially the part where we’re doing an amazing job?” Xander put in. “I mean, really, nobody’s ever said anything like that.”

The director cleared her throat. “I would like to offer all three of you two things: support on this ‘Hellmouth,’ and time here, as was originally arranged by your parents some time ago, that is, I apologize, your birth parents, to train, to learn to use the furthest extent of your abilities, and to, ah, have something of a vacation.”

“Nobody can handle the Hellmouth. That’s my job. That’s what I was born for. Chosen for.” Buffy’s voice had gone flat again.

The director let the statement hang in the air for a moment before shaking her head. “I want to make something clear: I am in no way denigrating the skills that you have. From what I have seen and what I have been told, you are an extraordinary young woman. And I do believe that you were chosen, groomed, and trained for this position, and that your skills and innate talents are far above that of an ordinary human. However… I have others who you can train, who are also powerful, who are also strong, who are also durable. And they would enjoy the chance to fight real monsters in a situation where they do not have to hide, because, as it has been explained to me, the environment itself will hide them.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. The ‘Blindness of the Gods,’ as it is called, is particularly strong in Sunnydale. It’s as if there’s some sort of –” he hesitated, no, Willow realized, he paused dramatically, and aimed a look directly at Regine, “–complex Mind Working around the entire city, powered by the Hellmouth.”

“Fascinating.” The Director looked between Giles and the Scoobies. “This is my offer: we will send teams of students and some of my best employees – both Professors and staff – to Sunnydale in rotation, to give them solid real-world experience. While they are doing that, you three will come to Addergoole for our typical four-year program, which will be tailored to your unique needs and skills.”

“‘Real-world experience,'” Buffy interrupted. “You realize this real-life experience can get them killed, right?”

“Of course.” She leaned forward over the desk. Now, her lips curled upwards in something very nearly a smile. “Yes. As is common in the real world. They will be in teams, Buffy, and they will be paired with a skilled hunter. You may be the one girl in all the world called by this particular spell, but there are many, many demon-hunters in the world.”

“Faster, tougher, demon-hunters who can survive a attack by a monster?” Buffy shifted her weight back onto her heels. Willow moved closer, although she didn’t know what she could do to help. “Come on, they didn’t make me for no reason.”

“No. And I have quite a few ideas about why you – and all the others like you – might have been made. I will share them with you once I have more data accumulated, but in the meantime, let me see. No, no-one else that I have ever encountered has ever been as specialized, as naturally skilled, and as directed towards the fight of these particular monsters as you. You – and presumably your sisters-in-Slaying – are very well-designed for this particular task. However, if I send a team of people, say, one with the ability to See those things which are not normally seen, one who is preternaturally fast, and one who is preternaturally strong, along with someone very skilled in the magic of healing – especially healing ‘on the fly’, as it were, especially with the ability to consult with the three of you at the drop of a hat, I believe they can hold the line until you finish your education. In the meantime, you could train others to do the same.”

“I am not training people to send them to die!”

“I assure you, I would not allow you to send people to die, not my people. We put a great deal of effort into the education of our students, and a great deal of money, time, and effort into the recruitment of our staff and professors. But perhaps you would like to spar with a few select people before we formalize our agreement?”

“I hope they brought pads.” Buffy’s expression was dark.

“I’ll be sure to let them know. That aside — if our plan satisfies you, that means that Sunnydale will be protected for your time here and, if you so choose, you could work in rotation with several others while you, for instance, attended college.”

“You’re serious. You know the Council would flip out. They like me being right where they can handle me.”

“This ‘Council,’ well, I believe the phrase is ‘leave them to me.’

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