Nathaniel, Kennedy and Faith were occupying one of the smaller, more private training rooms of Slayer Central, the latter playing spectator to a sparring match between the other two. There were several exercise implements, including a weight set and punching bag, but none was currently being used except for a lengthy floor mat.

The choice of weapon for today was a quarterstaff, which Kennedy and Nathaniel both wielded with no small amount of skill. Being a slayer provided Kennedy with a considerable advantage, however, and it was only through remarkable prowess that Nathaniel managed to hold his own, panting and nearly breathless.

Faith errantly tossed a twenty-pound hand dumbbell back and forth as she watched, occasionally applying a stylish spin or balancing it on the tip of her finger. A particularly fanciful pirouette coincided with an aggressive series of attacks from Kennedy that drove Nathaniel back, but he was able to block each strike.

He paused for a moment to gather his breath. "Very good. Now, let's work on your defense."

"Oh, I think I've had my fill of being defensive today," Kennedy responded, rolling her eyes which earned her an amused snort from Faith. "Hey, no comments from the peanut gallery."

Faith flashed what would probably pass in her world for an innocent look. "Who, me?" She grinned at the other Slayer's level glare and twirled the weight on her index finger by its axis.

Fully recovered and no longer content to wait, Nathaniel begun his attack. If he expected to catch Kennedy by surprise, he was sadly mistaken, as she deftly spun her staff sideways to deflect his thrust. Undaunted, he feinted a strike at her legs and, at the last moment, shifted upwards to her ribcage. This too was avoided.

"Man, what is it about Buffy that just punches all my buttons?" Kennedy questioned, turning to Faith. She continued to block, shift and otherwise evade attacks despite being unable to see them. The clacking of wood didn't impede having a conversation in the slightest.

Faith chuckled. "It's a gift she's got. This big ol' huge yap that don't know when to shut the hell up. They all got it, really. Been more than one time I've wanted to punch your honey right in the— Oh, wait, I did," she smiled somewhat fondly at the memory.

Kennedy raised an eyebrow while, at the same time, stopping an attack to her head.

"Still didn't shut her up," Faith admitted with a shrug.

"Her attitude drives me nuts!" Kennedy nearly growled. She noticed the expression from Faith. "Buffy's. I know she's all lost and everything, but I can see this goin' back to how it was before, with Buffy all shoutin' orders and the rest of us expected to just fall in line."

Faith had removed the four plates from the dumbbell and began juggling three of them, paying as little attention to them as Kennedy did with her attacker. "Maybe," she agreed. "But see, here's the thing with B. Sometimes it seems like she don't learn too quick, an' yeah, maybe she's so self-righteous it makes you wanna scream ... But at the end of the day? She tends to be right. So maybe we should hear her out, huh?"

"Don't tell me you're buying into all this Kodak Moment crap."

"Oh no," came the Slayer's quick reply. "But hey, if she wants to give my classes a ten-minute pep rally once a week, more power to her." Without missing a beat in her juggle, she picked up the fourth plate and added it to the mix. "I want my girls to keep breathin', an' if some fancy word games make that happen, I'm big enough to stand on the sidelines while she preaches."

Kennedy's use of the staff had been shifting from defensive to offensive, not merely parrying blows but making counterattacks. She now moved up another notch on the scale, causing Nathaniel to widen his eyes as he valiantly defended himself while being driven back.

"Great, that's just what we need," Kennedy grumbled, seemingly unaware of her tactical shift, "Buffy 2: The Sequel."

Faith glowered for a moment, but recomposed herself quickly with a small shrug. "Been there, done that, caused some trouble, got a complicated story for my shrink. I'm just smart enough now to know that no matter how much it cuts me up sometimes, B's got a handle on some stuff."

"I'm not letting her push me into the background."

Apparently bored with the mere juggling, Faith began to improvise, occasionally looping a weight under her leg like a basketball player or behind her back. "Fine. So you don't let her. But you gotta do it without throwin' a fit every time she walks in the room, or things're just gonna get worse."

"Yeah, I guess," Kennedy grudgingly agreed, as she finished off a particularly savage series of blows. She held up her staff, waiting for the next attack, but it didn't materialize. What she received instead was the image of Nathaniel on the ground, panting heavily and holding himself up only by his staff. "Oh. I guess we're done," she concluded, a little surprised.

Finishing up her juggling routine, Faith set the metal plates down, reaching out and snatching the staff from the air when Kennedy tossed it at her, catching it solidly in one hand. She glanced around but couldn't easily spot where the weapon was supposed to go. With a small shrug, she casually tossed it aside where it landed on the ground with a clatter.

Together, they headed for the exit. "Thanks for the workout, Nate," called Kennedy over her shoulder. "I feel I've grown as a person."

"Brat," Faith smirked.

Kennedy was nonchalant. "It's a defining characteristic."

They entered the hallway, paying no particular attention to Judith and Sonja who approached from the opposite direction. The two younger Slayers were very amused and excited by something.

"When you're right, you're right," Sonja admitted. "I didn't even know there were that many shades of red in the entire spectrum."

Judith let out a small smile. "The lack of challenge is almost cruel. Is it wrong, having that much fun at a nerd's expense?"

The pair considered the question carefully for a moment, as though it were the age old puzzle of 'is it live or is it Memorex?' "Nahhh," they concluded in unison.

Arriving at a set of large double doors, decorated with delicate carving, Judith finally came to a halt. "This is a place that you'll probably find the most fascinating stop on our tour so far," she prefaced, waiting only a moment before continuing. "Or you'll fall instantly unconscious as soon as we walk in."

Judith threw open the doors and presented its contents dramatically.

"The library," she announced, bowing deeply.

Clearly no amount of effort had been spared in creating a gorgeous home for the countless volumes and resources belonging to the new Council. The room in which they were standing was itself only part of the entire library, a staircase trailing off in the back and leading toward rows upon rows of books. The girls had not seen its template before, but if they had, they would have noticed an uncanny resemblance to the library in the original Sunnydale High, complete with large skylight overhead. The Council's version was much larger, however and lacking in the necessities for a school, such as the book cage. At the center of the room was a line of long tables surrounded by chairs, and off to one side were several computer terminals. Along with the skylight, the huge windows dotting the two outside walls impressively lit the room, which was nearly empty save the two Junior Slayers, and Dawn.

Hunched over a book, Dawn was so thoroughly engrossed that she didn't glance up when they entered. Judging from the tall stacks surrounding her, she had a lot of work to do.

The brunette Slayer noted that her companion's jaw was practically dragging the ground in awe. "Ah, you're in the fascinated category," she observed. "Oh well, takes all kinds."

Wonder clearly etched on her face, Sonja all but glided to the nearest bookshelf, her hand reverently tracing the spines of the volumes housed there. "I've never seen so many interesting books ..." she stated breathlessly. "Mystical histories, demonologies, artifact appraisals ... It certainly beats my Judy Blume collection back home," she grinned. "I think I could spend weeks in here."

"I know when I have a research paper due it sure feels like weeks to me," Judith chuckled.

In a manner entirely unfit for the silence due a library, Giles burst into the room, a book under one arm and cell phone pinned to his ear. Even Dawn was pulled from her studies by the entrance, and she watched expectantly as he crossed to her, still talking on the phone. "That's— Yes, that's incredibly helpful. No, I never would have— Absolutely. Thank you," concluded the Watcher with utmost sincerity.

Decisively, Giles snapped the phone closed and tossed the book he was carrying on top of the one Dawn had been reading. She glanced up at him, alarmed but curious. Judith and Sonja hovered at one side of the room, content to remain unnoticed for the time being as they watched the events unfold with keen interest.

It's magickal!" proclaimed Giles, clearly feeling this was all the information necessary.

"I agree my shirt's nice," Dawn responded, inspecting her garment appreciatively, "but I don't know that I'd go with magickal ..."

Rolling his eyes, Giles explained, "The creature, the one that Kennedy defeated. We've been looking in the wrong places," a sweep of his hand indicated the piles of books surrounding Dawn, "trying to locate a-a known demon with similar features or-or characteristics. But we're going about this all wrong." Giles shook his head at his own shortsightedness. "It's not demon. It's a mystical creature, one created by powerful magicks."

"Oh," commented Dawn very simply with a touch of surprise. Glancing at the legal pad in front of her, she smiled. "Well ... looking on the bright side, I now know everything – and I do mean everything – about the Dyar'on packs. So if we ever decide to break into the demon puppy business, I'm your girl," she grinned proudly before scanning her notes and pointing out a particular line she had written. "Apparently they really, really like Alpo ..."

But Giles was too engrossed in hurriedly gathering together a fresh armload of books from the shelves around him. Rising to help, Dawn took a few steps toward the Watcher, arriving just in time for him to dump another tower of volumes into her arms.

"That's it, you and me have gotta get a new shtick," decided Dawn, her voice muffled by the books toppling into her face as she fought to remain upright.

Lost in his own world, Giles didn't respond. "Come on," he urged, pulling more materials from the shelves, "we'll start cross-referencing these texts with my volumes on magickal constructs."

"You know, this would be so much easier if you'd let me get that database underway."

With a heavy sigh, the Watcher shot Dawn an expression of disapproval. "For the last time, you are not going through my spell books." Situating his burden so as to be more manageable, Giles headed for the exit with Dawn in tow. "Good lord," he muttered mostly to himself, "it's like you were made from Willow, not Buffy."

"Hey, maybe I was made from both of 'em," she supplied cheerfully. "Sort of a Witchy/Slayer love child and oh my god I've just scarred myself into ten more years of therapy."

It was a struggle, but they both finally made it through the library doors and out into the hall. Judith and Sonja watched them leave, then blinked at each other before Judith held up a thin paperback and grinned. "Hey, look. Superfudge."

The Watcher's discovery that the Mogari construct is magickal is undoubtedly a development we will need to keep a close eye on. While I have every confidence that the Circle will be able to block their attempts at tracing the creature's origins, the simple fact is that this creature is their strongest link to us. It was an unfortunate error that the construct tracked its target this close to the Council's headquarters.

The Junior duo continued their tour, passing through the foyer on their way to elsewhere. Had they looked outside, they would have seen Buffy sitting on the front steps, working herself into a Dawn-sized mope.

Xander saw her, however, and approached while eyeing his friend cautiously. There was no doubt that Buffy knew he was there, but she didn't lift her eyes or acknowledge him in any way. "Buff!" he announced happily. "You look like someone stole your Barbie. Someone not-me," the carpenter quickly added. "My Barbie-stealing days are long gone."

"If only it were that simple," Buffy lamented, squinting up at him. "A quick run to Toys R Us and everything would be fine again."

Taking a seat next to the Slayer, Xander sighed wistfully. "I used to think there was no problem on earth that couldn't be solved by Geoffrey." He shook his head with regret. "My world is all askew."

"'Askew'?" repeated Buffy, cocking an amused eyebrow.

"It's a fun word. I recommend using it as part of this balanced breakfast." He drew the word out, savoring each letter like a fine wine. "Assssskeeewwwww ..."

Buffy stared at Xander, seriously contemplating his mental faculties. "You are a very strange man," she concluded.

"Yes," a beaming Xander wholeheartedly agreed. He patted her knee affectionately. "Now we've established our relative sanity levels, tell crazy Uncle Xander what's wrong in Buffyland."

"Eh. I don't know," she dismissed, focusing on her shoes. "I'm not sure I wanna talk about it."

Xander poked her shoulder until she looked up. "Uh-uh, that doesn't work anymore. While you were out, we laid down some new Scooby rules. Rule #11: No More Not Talking. Whenever we don't talk, Bad Stuff Happens. And I, for one, am pretty tired of Bad Stuff Happening."

"I had a fight with Willow," confessed the Slayer. "It was horrible. Too much yelling."

"What about?"

Sighing, Buffy hooked her hands behind her neck and tilted her head back. "It started about Kennedy but I think I can safely say it soon became about a whole lot more."

With a nod, Xander's expression indicated her answer wasn't much of a surprise. "Will's been on this mission since we got here. She's pretty gung-ho about making everything run smoothly, gettin' back to basics, that sort of thing. You leaving kinda put a crimp in that plan. But you're back now," he smiled, "and that's really all that's important. Just give her a bit of time and she'll be okay. You know Will, she can't stay mad at you for more than a week, it's like something hard wired in her brain. She is Saint Willow of the Infinite Forgiveness."

At this the Slayer frowned. "And what is it she's forgiving me for, exactly?" she demanded, a twinge of defensiveness creeping in.

Xander continued in the same tone, refusing to rise to Buffy's mood. "I dunno," he shrugged broadly. "Your last Chanukah presents. Borrowing her shirt Freshman year and never giving it back. Not calling or writing for the past month ..."

Buffy deflated as she backed down. "Okay. Point taken," she grudgingly conceded. "Although it should be known I would never have borrowed anything from Will's wardrobe in Freshman year."

"Maybe not. But I think we could all do with a heaping spoonful of forgiveness for at least one thing or another in recent history, hm?" he asked pointedly.

Nodding, Buffy dropped her head, a little ashamed, but she never got the opportunity to wallow.

"Now, no more mopey face," Xander ordered, clapping his hands together as he rose to his feet. "I think you'll feel better after crazy Uncle Xander takes you to the toy store and buys you anything you want."

Tilting her head, the blonde regarded Xander hopefully. "Anything I want?"

"So long as it's under a dollar," he replied indulgently.

Buffy's lower lip jutted out. "Crazy Uncle Xander's cheap," she complained in her best pouty voice.

Jerking his head toward the building, Xander grinned. "How about we go put that pout to good use and see if we can't get stuffy Uncle Giles to give us the company credit card?"

"Yay!" exclaimed the Slayer, sounding all of three years old as she leapt to her feet. "You're the best, crazy Uncle Xander!"

She wrapped herself around the carpenter's arm and they headed inside together. "I've been upgraded from 'alright' to 'the best' and I'm goin' toy shopping," beamed Xander. "Today's lookin' up."

Hidden from view, the small orange demon poked his head around the corner of the building, gazing intently at the exact spot where Xander and Buffy had just been sitting. Ducking behind the line of hedges near the entrance, despite the fact even at full height he couldn't be seen, he made his way cautiously to the steps and sniffed the air, trying to catch a whiff of something.

After several seconds of intense concentration, he pulled out his notebook, scribbled some notes and then put it away. Scurrying back into the bushes, the demon emerged once more carrying a small briefcase; it was perfectly matched to his size and obviously custom made. He placed it on the ground and opened it, reaching in for a Palm Pilot that was obviously not, since the entire thing was almost as large as his head. Somehow, he managed to balance it in his hand while using an altogether unwieldy stylus, poking here and there and thoughtfully studying the display. Satisfied, he replaced it carefully back in the briefcase and extracted a cell phone. This, too, was a size or two too large, and the receiver end dangled near his chest. Despite this, he used the phone with some skill, calling up a number on speed dial and waiting for someone to pick up, looking every bit like the stereotypical businessman. A very small, very orange businessman.

Finally receiving an answer, he smiled. "Thir?" he questioned, speaking with a decided lisp due to his many, many teeth. "Thith ith Norg, thir. The thurveillanth ith going well. On your okay, we can protheed ath theduled. Yeth thir. Tonight it ith, then. Thank you, thir."

Norg clicked the phone shut, made another couple of entries in his notebook, then packed everything away before slinking into the bushes and disappearing from view.

The library was again almost devoid of patrons, save for one Willow Rosenberg. The redhead was hunched over a book in the exact same spot that Dawn had inhabited earlier. Whatever she was reading may have been quite gripping and suspenseful. Willow wouldn't know because she was too busy doing everything but reading, despite staring at the open pages.

Though agitated and fidgety, she doggedly persevered in the charade of focusing on the book. Settling down, Willow sighed and allowed her eyes to drift over the text for a second before frowning and flopping into another position to reread the exact same line. Many times it appeared as though she was giving up, ready to leave the room and do whatever it was that she obviously felt more like doing, but then her resolve face would return and that would be that. Thus the cycle continued for several long moments, until something snagged her attention and she jerked her head up, noticing Buffy standing there for the first time.

Clearly surprised, Willow gaped and then smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to do or what to say. Buffy returned the smile, but hers was full of excitement, leading the other woman to furrow her brow in confusion. The Slayer bounced on the balls of her feet, grinning like a girl half her age, and Willow noted that her friend's hands were behind her back. Confusion gave way to curiosity, and the witch raised an eyebrow.

Grin still firmly affixed as she thrust her hands forward, Buffy presented a stuffed animal – a plushy Pooh Bear hugged a small plushy Piglet that was hugging him back. An expression of rapt adoration appeared on Willow's face as she beheld the toy. Then Buffy grabbed Piglet and tugged him gently away from Pooh, revealing that Velcro held the two together. Smiling fondly, Buffy presented Piglet to Willow.

Beaming, Willow took Piglet, hugging him tightly as a delighted Buffy watched. The hug lasted for a second, then the redhead got other ideas. She frowned and pointed to Pooh, cradled in Buffy's arms. The Slayer rolled her eyes, but grinned as she handed Pooh to Willow and took the offered Piglet instead. Even more thrilled now, Willow leapt to her feet, a death grip on Pooh in one arm and a death grip around Buffy's neck in the other.

Both laughed as Xander bounded into view, holding up a plushy Tigger and grinning like a maniac. Then he held up a stuffed Owl, complete with spectacles, and indicated beyond the room with his head. Buffy and Willow wore expressions to match Xander's and nodded in absolute agreement.

By this time, Hazel had joined Judith and Sonja, and the three girls walked past the open doors of the library. Sonja appeared to be in some considerable discomfort, and her two companions focused the bulk of their attention on her as they continued down the hall.

"The money part I think I can handle," groaned Sonja, "but I don't see McDonalds becoming anything more than an unwise flirtation."

Judith patted her shoulder comfortingly. "I guess Big Macs are an acquired taste."

"Toldja you should've stuck with nuggets," noted Hazel not unkindly. "There are only so many ways you can mess up mulched chicken bits." All three scrunched up their face as they considered this, coming to a distasteful conclusion. "Other than calling it 'mulched chicken bits', that is," she amended with a sneer.

Pulling a crinkly, half-empty packet out of her back pocket, Judith punched a fresh piece of gum free from its bubble package and popped it in her mouth. Hazel very emphatically rolled her eyes, but the others missed the gesture. With a deep sigh that bespoke of great personal sacrifice, Hazel managed to let the gum thing pass without comment, instead leaning past Judith to address Sonja.

"So, big ball of meat-fat and unknown sauce just lying in your stomach aside, how are you finding everything so far?" she asked amicably.

The blonde smiled with enthusiasm. "Oh, very exciting! Though I admit, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. Everything here is just so ..."

"Crazy?" Judith supplied.

"Yes! I'm trying so hard to learn all that I can about our methods and procedures, as well as get to know everyone, but it's so much! I think I'll need several brains to tap before I have everything mastered." Shaking her head, Sonja did indeed seem to be overwhelmed, and just a tad pathetic, rather like a puppy left out in the rain.

Hazel couldn't help but respond. "Well consider my brain constantly on-tap," she assured the other girl confidently.

I suppose they believe that they are simply being helpful, but I wonder if anyone in this organization fully understands that knowledge is power. Admittedly, the newer girls don’t have anything much to offer besides a way to gauge the general thoughts and feelings of the Slayers here, but a little effort goes a long way, and there’s plenty of opportunity for contact with those in the true positions of power. All you need is to see the ladder for the rungs.

"Just like beer," Judith commented with wonder. "So, is your brain less filling?" She laughed as Hazel took a swing at her, easily dancing out of the way and popping a bubble at her roommate as she did so.

"Speaking of crazy ..." Hazel grumbled to herself.

Judith stuck out her tongue, then sobered as she turned to the newest Slayer. "Seriously, Sonja, I know just how you feel. You can never have too much information, I say. And hey, maybe if we all learn just what the heck we're doing, we can straighten out the insane mess of the world, huh? An army of girls out to vanquish strife and disorder can't be a bad career choice."

Gaping at Judith with mock amazement, Hazel brought her hand up to touch her chest. "I didn't realize you knew so many big words."

"Don't worry, I have a supply of really short ones, just for you," Judith replied, dripping with sweetness.

The acerbic banter couldn't infringe on Sonja's mood in the slightest. She smiled at both girls, gratitude pouring off of her in waves. "Thank you both, very much. You've all been so helpful. I just can't wait to know as much as all of you so I can pass on my knowledge." She smiled, perhaps a little too wide. "I know others are anxious to receive it."