See Prologue for Disclaimer.

Part 3

Sunnydale High, recess.

'Big showup in history class today,' Buffy said as she slid into her usual seat.

'Let hear,' Xander replied distractedly, as he attempted to squeeze a troublesome bit of chocolate goodness from a wrapper.  'My morning sucked.'

'New guy knew more about the armor-stuff than the teacher,' Buffy reported.  'Turns out that good old Kenny the Kiss-up messed up.'

'Kiss-up?' Xander repeated, his face twisted with disgust.  'Nobody´s got that bad a taste.  Not even her husband wanted to kiss up to Ms. I Love Armor.  That´s why they got divorced, or so I hear.'

'She wanted to...' Buffy said, hesitant.

'Reproduce,' Willow supplied, looking slightly embarrassed.  'He didn´t.  Want to.  Her husband, I mean.  Reproduce, I meant.  He didn´t want to.' 

'Who would, other than Kenny?' Xander quipped.  'With her, I mean.  Now, if this were about any other woman, I would of course be more than happy to...'

The cafeteria doors slammed open, admitting Cordelia and her group of admirers, babbling at the top of their voices.  As usual, their entrée made quite an impression on the people already present.

'Except, of course, with that woman,' Xander corrected himself, his voice and expression betraying extreme disgust.  'Nobody in their right mind would want to...'

The doors slammed open again, admitting Cassiel Lack, who looked around, saw a solitary chair and took it.

'New guy from history class,' Buffy reported.  'Knows lots about armor and stuff.  Whatcha think of him?'

'He looks... new,' Xander said.  'But did you notice how he didn´t even look at the food?  I´m guessing he´s a veteran of high school cooking already.  Maybe we should exchange notes.'

'He´s from England,' Willow reported.  'Mr. Flutie said so.'

'Aha, a veteran of English high school cooking!' Xander exclaimed.  'Great.  This´ll open up whole new realms of culinary discussion.  How many chips can you eat before tossing them, for instance.'

'That´s gross,' Buffy reprimanded him.  'Besides, he´s... proper.  Very Giles-esque.  You´d probably have to know him a little better before he´ll talk about tossing anything, and he´ll probably think you´re talking about actually taking something in hand and throwing it.  Until you explain to him, of course.  What are you trying to do to that wrapper?'

'Hm?' Xander said.  'Oh!  I´m just... excavating it.  You know; chocolate out of the wrapper and into me?  But this one must be made of high strength plastic, ´cause I can´t seem to...'

Buffy took the wrapper and tore it in two, dumping it back in his hands.  For a moment, Xander looked down at the pieces of shredded plastic, then shrugged and picked bits of chocolate from it.

'Look at what he´s eating,' Willow whispered furiously.  'Is that what I think it is?'

Buffy glanced over her shoulder and commented: 'Plain bread, no toppings.  Or maybe that a little margarine I see there. And a pear.  Wholesome, healthy, and absolutely funless lunch.  Yuck.'

'Why would anyone want to eat plain bread?' Xander asked in horrified tones.  'It´s not natural.'

'He is English,' Willow said.  'Maybe it´s an English thing.'

'You´ve never seen one of Giles´s late night snacks, have you?' Buffy asked.  'Just don´t ask me about sclumpy, that´s all I want to say.  It´s not an English thing, ´cause Giles is about as English as they come.  And he eats grease and stuff.'

'Then maybe it´s a masochist thing,' Xander shrugged, 'or a vegetarian thing.  Whatever.  If you´re gonna freak out about it, why not just ask him?'

'I couldn´t!' Willow squealed.  'I mean... he´s new, I don´t know him...'

'He could probably use a friend at his new school,' Xander interjected.  'Go on, Will.  In the name of the student fraternity and sisterhood of the world, in the name of common decency.'

'And in the name of curiosity,' Buffy completed the sentence, with a wicked smile.  'Besides, he´s a cuty . Go ask him what his sign is.'

Willow started to object again, but Xander was already starting to nudge her out of her seat.

'Wait, don´t!' she protested.  'Look, Cordelia´s headed for him.  Let´s uh... let´s just watch and have some bad feelings about Cordelia, alright?'

'Fine, and then you go talk to him,' Xander said.  'Our little ambassador of snoop.'

'Here´s the Cordelia windup,' Buffy muttered, as Cordelia approached Cassiel, shaking out her hair.

'There´s the pitch,' Xander muttered, as they heard her voice ring out: 'Hi, my name´s Cordelia Chase.  You´re called Cas, right?  So, I hear that you´re new here.'

'Yes, and you seem to be an incumbent,' Cassiel replied, his voice decidedly chilly.  'And it´s Cassiel, not Cas.'

'And she´s outa there!' Willow giggled.

'This is a definite first,' Xander remarked.  'Let´s see that repeat, Johnny.'

'I heard you really made a mes at History class this morning,' Cordelia said.  'That must have been really...'

'Annoying, yes,' Cassiel interrupted her.  'I can´t abide people who mess up, then try to cover for it, risking other people´s welfare.  Or stupid people.'

Neither words nor tone indicated that Cordelia was included in these two categories, but there was a general feel of contempt about them.  The beauty queen first blanched, then blushed.

But as in baseball, she had to go for third: 'I was wondering, since you´re new in town, maybe you´d like us to show you some of the fun places to hang out.  There´s a club called the Bronze...'

'Thank you, but I´ve seen it,' Cassiel replied.  'Not worth the trouble.  Is that all?'

'Now she´s outa there,' Willow quipped.  'Three strikes.'

'First time for everything,' Buffy shrugged.  'A guy with more brain cells than hormones, who´s under fifty.'

'I resemble that remark,' Xander said in hurt tones.

'Well, if you change your mind...' Cordelia struggled to save face.

'I rarely do.  Good day,' was the reply, and Cassiel returned his full attention to his rather drab and dull lunch.  Cordelia stalked off in a huff, and Xander gave Willow an unexpected nudge.

Jumping up, Willow found herself facing the attention of all the people in the cafeteria.  Like Cordelia, she first blanched, then blushed.  With a pleading look at Buffy, she walked stiff-legged towards Cassiel and tried a hesitant: 'Hi.'

'Hello,' Cassiel replied, looking at her with one raised eyebrow.  'And you are?'

'W... Willow Rosenberg,' Willow quavered.  'Pl... pleased to make your acquaintance.'  She stuck out her right hand, awkwardly.

Cassiel took and shook it with unexpected courtesy.  'The pleaure´s all mine,' he replied.  'Cassiel Lack.  Would you care to sit down?'

'Willow bagged a boy,' Xander quipped.

'More like boy bagged a Willow,' Buffy said.  'She´s not moving.  How about you go over and help her out?'

'Nu-uh,' Xander replied.  'It´s not done for a guy to go up to a strange guy on his first day.  Definite male no-no, you know?  But the presence of several women has been known to please men.  Mentally, I mean.'

'Right,' Buffy said sarcastically.  'And no, thanks.  I don´t think he likes my type.  You saw what he did to Cordelia.'

'You think you´re Cordelia´s type?' Xander asked.  'You are so wrong...'

*****

In the underground lair, the very site of the Hellmouth, the Master opened a volume of ancient knowledge.  Once, the leather had been adorned with golden lettering, but time, humidity, and the fingers of dark creatures had worn all the color from it.

Fortunately, the title had also been written down on the very first page.

'Victims of the Executioner,' the Master said, cherishing every word.  'Victims.  Executioner.  It has such a lovely... doomladen texture to it.'

Lovingly, the Master turned page after page.  There were over three million pages in the volume, which could hardly be carried by one man alone.

Finally, he came to the section he´d been looking for.

'And on the fifth day of the seventh year since the fall of Babylon,' the Master read out loud, 'the Executioner appeared in the place of Shagwèh.  Within the place of Shagwèh, there dwelled the Slayer, and with her the Watcher, and with him a witch of modest powers, all of which were used for the Slayer.

And as the Executioner sought out the witch, so the Slayer rose up before this might and dared it, wielding the Slayer´s blade, carried over from Lemuria.

Before the eyes of the Watcher, the Executioner clove the Slayer´s blade in two, then proceeded to take the head of first the Slayer, next of the witch, and finally his own.

Fire came to the place of their combat, so that Shagwèh is no more, except in the books of man.  And now even those dwindle.'

Shivering with delight, the Master looked to an hourglass.  Still some hours until nightfall.  But soon.  Very soon.

'My good friend,' the Master purred, 'wait until you hear my offer...'

Hideous laughter filled the cavern.

Part 4
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