My name is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I was sent by the Watcher's Council to Sunnydale California to take over duties as the watcher of a slayer named Faith. She was a dedicated slayer, perhaps too dedicated, and it got the better of her, and she is now a threat. I have also undertaken the duties as watcher to another slayer named Buffy. Buffy is the reason I am here tonight. I am at her senior prom, a dance that is customary for the end of the last year of high school. I am here to chaperone the youths and to watch my slayer.
She has yet to return from her mission, one of which is very dangerous. A young student has planned to unleash a species of canine demon on the dance. These demons are very dangerous, and very similar to werewolves, yet they have been trained to attack formal wear. This gymnasium is full of formal wear this evening.
I stand in my place near the refreshment table with the rest of the chaperones, including Mr. Giles, the watcher who I replaced as Buffy's watcher. I sense that he doesn't like me much, but no matter. I am here to do a job, and I intend to do it. I am a watcher. I watch.
"Well, I must say this is all rather odd to me," I declare to Mr. Giles, motioning to the surrounding room.
"Oh yes," he replied. "At an all-male preparatory they didn't go in for this sort of thing."
" No, of course not," I say. "Unless you count the nights you made the lower classmen get up as girls and watched them ..." I stopped, thinking the better of going to in a place filled with impressionable young people. No need to teach them how to be rebelious. "Dip is tasty, isn't it?"
I look toward the door as a beautiful brunette vision enters the room. I am so struck by her beauty that the crisp I was eating doesnt quite go down the right way. I suddenly start coughing Mr. Giles looks at me questioningly.
"Sauce is hot," I offer, looking at the beautiful girl again. "Very hot."
I leave my post as chaperone to walk to the beauty. "May I say, you look smashing," I say to her, admiring her dress, her hair, and pretty much everything about her.
"It's a start," Cordelia Chase says to me with a smile. She hooks her arm around mine, and we walk towards the table again.
"Cordelia! Wesley! My god in heaven, it's good to see you. How are you both? And details, please," I hear a voice say. I look up and Xander Harris, a friend of my slayer's, is standing before us. If you ask me, slayers shouldn't have friends. They have a sacred duty to perform, and they should do their job.
"Very well, thank you," I reply to the boy, so as not to seem rude.
"Yes, thank you." Cordelia says to the young man. They exchange a few more words that I don't hear. We walk away from the boy and his date, just as the awards ceremony starts. I have noticed that my slayer is back from her mission. She seems to be perfectly fine, so I assume that all has gone according to plan, and that the prom will be safe for the night.
I am uninterested in the award ceremony for the most part, until the end when I hear my slayer's name announced. They have given her an award: "Class Protector." I feel that her identity is in question, and I do not like this award. Although, the award doesn't say "Class Slayer," so I suppose her identity is safe for now. The children of Sunnydale High School surprised me with their acknowledgment of my slayer. And it pleases her, I can tell. The music starts again, and am back at my place behind the refreshment table.
"Mr. Giles," I say to the man standing next to me. " I'd like your opinion. While the last thing I want to do is muddle bad behavior in front of impressionable youth, I wonder if asking Miss Chase to dance would..."
" For God's sake, man, she's eighteen. And you have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone. Just have at it, would you, and stop fluttering about," he says to me, then turns to walk away. I think I noted sarcasm in his voice.
" Right, then. Thanks for that," I say.
I walk to Cordelia and ask her to dance. She accepts, and we dance together to the music. She is a very soft, stunning young lady. She lays her head on my chest, and we just dance.
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