The school bell rang, signaling the end of the school week!  Friday, that blessed end of toil and harbinger of fun!  Well, at least for everyone except one Buffy Summers.  Clive Whitlock and Coach Cordova had other plans for the Slayer!  Plans which involved a summons to the gym and a long overdue conversation about Watchers & Slayers...

OOC:  Buffy's friends can feel free to tag along!

BJ sighed as she hefted her bag of gear and padding over her shoulder as she checked the time. She had told  Clive and Buffy that she had found a discrete place to work out in. It was an old boxing club that she had gotten on the sly cheap. She wanted to see what the Slayer could do and having that goal in mind meant she definitely didn't want her student tossing world record weights around in the school gym

"So, where are they? I told them I was heading towards the gym 20 minutes after." She growled

Luthien was around, leaning casually on a wall. After all, he figured he'd have to help with pushing her to her limits. He was in his white outfit...apparently a new one he'd just gotten hold of, as the old outfit was slain by the treachery of Gabrielle. Or more specifically, sewer water.

"Patience. They'll show up soon enough."

He wasn't in a hurry. It was enough for him that they were getting down to business at last.

"Yeah, she could be on time for a change. This last minute thing is so old. We need to assess Buffy's abilities so we can help her out. And I'm SURE some others will be along to put in their two bits." She said with a grin. "I know the type of person who gets involved in these things. We tell the kids to mind their business, they'd do it anyway.. instead I imagine some physical training and basic lessons in lore would be better for everyone involved. Care to help me train a handful of highschool students in the fine art of surviving vampires and other things in the shadows of the world? Because I'm quite sure at least TWO of them will show up."

Normally Watchers performed the whole intro the occult and one's destiny speech.  Clive had the unfortunate task of sharing said moment with two others.  Luthien, while he was starting to trust a little had enough floating questions around the man to make the trust shaky at best.  The last sort of thing that should be left hanging around the slayer.  Bonita, whom apparently had run ins with zombies, vampires, and werewolves before was still for all intents and purposes a regular gym teacher, an innocent bystander.  The last sort of person that should be drawn into a situation that could get her killed.  Too late on both those counts.

And now the talk was leaning on preparing kids to help Buffy, although when it came down to it the slayer was as much a youth as the rest of them.  It was a cluster and Clive couldn't help but feel responsible.  But they were better company than the tweed wearing sort that normally dove into these matters.  "Now, now a smile is always more lovely on your face than one of those patented scowls.  Luthien is right Bonita, not everyone was raised with military punctuality.  I am sure your twenty minutes will be Miss Summers thirty."

Outside

Buffy sat on a bench across the street from the gym. She'd actually rushed right over from school. The hallways had been buzzing with all sorts of talk. Of the weekend. Of who was going to what movie. Of who was going on a date with whom. Of being free for two short, sweet days. Buffy had blown past it, singularly focused. Coach Cordova had given her the address, but now that she was here...Buffy was nervous.

Not because she was scared of training, or fighting. But she was scared of what it meant. It meant that she'd be acknowledging, officially, what she'd spent years running away from. That this was all happening. And that terrified the Slayer more than any creature she'd come face to face with. Buffy stared hard at the old gym, as though if she glared hard enough, it would disappear, along with all her problems. Instead, the rundown structure sat there, unyielding, mocking her in its solemness. And so Buffy sat staring at it, trying to work up the courage to cross the street and step through those doors.