"If I Should Die Before I Wake"
by Gaius Petronius
DISCLAIMER:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that appear on
the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, the WB, Fox
and Mutant Enemy, Inc. I only borrow them, mess with their heads,
make them cry and, every once in a while, torture them. I do lay
claim to the character of Johannes Martel since he is the central
character in an original novel I've been working on now for too
many years.
Spoilers: BtVS season two. Originally written in script format
during the spring of 1998, "If I should die before I wake"
is the sequel to my first Buffy novel, "Carpe Diem."
Rating: PG for violence and language."
* * * * * * * *
"But in the grey of the morning,
My mind becomes confused
Between the dead and the sleeping
And the road that I must choose."
The Moody Blues, "Question," 1970
* * * * * * * *
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."
Anonymous child's prayer
* * * * * * * *
Chapter 5 - A Little Slack
Buffy hesitantly stepped over to the chair in front of Principal
Snyder's desk and sat down. Although she had been through this
routine in his office what seemed like dozens of times before,
she wondered whether this would be the last. Snyder strode to
the rear of his desk, put his hands behind his back and stalked
to and fro. There was an awkward pause.
"Principal Snyder, I can explain what happened out in
the hallway. See, Xander was only . . ."
Snyder held up his hand at Buffy in a gesture commanding her
to be silent as he continued pacing.
"Ms. Summers, your behavior of the past few weeks has
been even more . . . erratic . . . than usual."
Snyder glanced up at Buffy and relished the panic he saw spreading
across her face. It was so rare that he could savor such an obvious
victory in his daily struggles to contain the savage youth of
southern California. It was such a shame that moments like this
one were so transitory. Something always had to interfere.
"Although I have waited in eager anticipation for an incident
of violent behavior on your part so that I may remove your loathsome
presence from Sunnydale High once and for all, unfortunately certain
foolish regulations promulgated by the State Board of Education
require that I conduct a family background inquiry on students
subject to suspension."
Buffy's ears perked. The downward spiral towards her suspension
from school suddenly appeared to come to a halt. There was a wild
card in the deck somewhere and somehow she had it. She listened
intently, realizing that she would probably have to think on her
feet, a skill she had never mastered and hated worse than surprise
birthday parties.
"Therefore, I took the liberty of consulting with Mr.
Giles yesterday," Snyder continued, frustration seething
beneath his cold exterior, "And he informed me about what
happened to your cousin."
Buffy's mouth dropped open. Her mind floundered in confusion
as she struggled to figure out what her Watcher could have possibly
told Snyder.
"Please accept my condolences on his passing . . . what
was his name, uh Jonathan. I can see how it must have been quite
a shock, him dying in an auto accident just after getting back
to Europe. I know you two became close while he was visiting."
Buffy's face displayed a bizarre mixture of shock and relief.
Snyder eyed her change in expression.
"Uh, yeah . . . right," she stammered, "It was
pretty terrible."
"That's why I'm required to cut you a little slack right
now," Snyder said suspiciously as his scam radar signaled
wildly.
"But I want you to see the guidance counselor. She's trained
in grief therapy," he said as he plotted mentally how to
convince the counselor to permit him access to the interview transcripts.
What the hell, he'd just let himself into the office and steal
them.
"Yes, sir," Buffy nodded, waiting for the opportunity
to make a break for it. She then stared down at the floor. Snyder
halted his pacing and leaned across his desk as he glowered directly
at Buffy.
"Ms. Summers . . .? Do you have anything you want to tell
me?"
Buffy looked up at Snyder. She didn't know why she answered
the way she did. Xander of all people always told her to keep
her mouth shut at times like this. Maybe it was the stress of
the past three weeks or maybe the impact of Jonathan's death was
finally settling in and the good memories were just beginning
to get the upper hand like Giles said they would.
"No . . . " she answered slowly with a quite sadness,
"Well, just . . . I miss him."
The impact on Snyder was immediate as if Buffy had tossed a
bomb in front of his desk. Sunnydale High's chief administrator,
for once, was caught speechless. Sincere emotion cut through his
cold armor like a blow torch on poorly cast cheap white metal.
"I'm sorry. I understand," he sputtered and then
blurted out something that he swore he had never said before,
"If you'd like to be excused from class for the rest of the
day . . ."
Buffy stared back in surprise at Snyder. She was equally as
bewildered, first by her confession and second by its impact on
the hard nosed principal. Then she caught sight of the glare from
his balding forehead and saw the glow. He was sweating! She actually
had him sweating. Realizing the magnitude of the advantage she
had suddenly obtained, Buffy quickly decided on another curve
ball.
"That's okay," she said quickly, "I gotta make
up too much history already."
Buffy immediately hopped up to leave the office but stopped
on the brink of the doorway. She turned around to look back at
Principal Snyder and used the sincere tone for one final verbal
assault.
"Thank you," she said softly and her eyes sparkled.
"Go to class, Ms. Summers," he replied, desperately
struggling to retain the cool exterior covering his mounting bewilderment.
Buffy left the office and breathed a sigh of relief as she
ran down the hallway to escape. Back inside, Principal Snyder
crossed his arms on his chest and then ran one hand across his
slick forehead. Somehow she had gotten away. He had the insufferable
Summers girl in the palm of his hand, and she had slipped loose
and gotten away again.
"What the hell just happened here?!" he exclaimed
to himself.
* * * * *
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