I'm raising the rating to PG-15 or thereabouts for sexual innuendo.
This is a crossover between Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the St. Trinian's films and books inspired by the cartoons of Ronald Searle. Minor spoilers up to season 7 of Buffy. Set after Season 7 BtVS, after Season 4 Angel. Since there is no real St. Trinian's continuity a mixture of characters from the films, books, etc. has been used. For a good web reference to the St. Trinians stories see users.netmatters.co.uk/ju90/ron.htm
All characters belong to their respective creators / film companies / etc. and are used without permission, and without any intention of damaging their owners copyright. This story may only be distributed on a non-profit-making basis.
Work in Progress. If you like this story, check out my other stories on the Fanfiction Net, Twisting the Hellmouth, and Fonts of Wisdom websites.
I'm British, so's my spelling. Live with it.
"Why the hell didn't anyone warn us?" Buffy whispered, hiding her face behind a hymn book.
"I think she just assumed we knew it'd be happening," Willow replied, "Don't you remember The Meaning of Life? Just keep cool and pretend you're briefing a bunch of potentials." The badly-sung hymn came to an end, and Miss Fritton returned to the podium and gazed out over the school hall, waited a moment, then said "And now Miss Summers will read the sermon on the subject of Proverbs 1:8 - Hear, my son, your father's instruction, And do not forsake your mother's teaching."
Buffy took her place, looked at the sermon, shrugged, closed the book, looked at the assembled students, and said "I'm supposed to be reading you a sermon telling you that it's a good idea to learn, and that bad things will happen to you if you don't. Let's face it, I've pretty much got to have that opinion or I wouldn't be standing here. Most of the reasons people have for becoming teachers boil down to education being a good idea. Now, some of you may disagree, or think that money or influence is more useful than brains. Maybe so, but I'm here to tell you that what you learn in school can make a big difference."
"I'll give you a simple example. About eight years ago I drowned, and the only reason I'm here today is that one of my friends had learned CPR. If he hadn't gone to class that day I'd be dead. Now I can't promise that everything you learn will be as useful, but if you don't learn there's no way that you'll ever know. You can try being ignorant, and trust your parents or money to give you the good life, but that doesn't always work. There are nasty things out there waiting for the stupid and the slow, and your best defense is to be stronger, faster and smarter, which takes a little work. Think about it, and try to make the right decision." Buffy stepped down from the podium, and Miss Fritton took her place.
"Thank you, Miss Summers. And finally, Miss Rosenberg will say a grace from her own religion."
Willow moved to the podium, coughed nervously, and rapidly said "Thank you Goddess for a fresh beginning. We are forever grateful for your blessings in our lives. So mote it be." There was a surprised murmur from the girls, and they stared at her with a lot more interest.
"Ah.. Thank you, Miss Rosenberg. We'll finish with the school song. Miss Benson..." A teacher Buffy hadn't met moved to an overhead projector and put on a new transparency. It was upside down. She turned it over, and got the text the right way up but mirrored. A final flip and the words were finally legible. The music teacher began to play the tune on a battered piano, while Miss Fritton used a long wooden pointer to keep track of the words:
Maidens of St Trinian's
Gird your armour on.
Grab the nearest weapon
Never mind which one!
The battle's to the strongest
Might is always right,
Trample on the weakest
Glory in their plight!
St Trinian's! St Trinian's!
Our battle cry.
St Trinian's! St Trinian's!
Will never die!
Stride towards your fortune
Boldly on your way.
Never once forgetting
There's one born every day.
Let our motto be broadcast
"Get your blow in first,"
She who draws the sword last
Always comes off worst.
(Shout) St Trinian's! St Trinian's! etc
The children sang lustily, shouting out the final chorus and stamping their feet until the hall shook. Miss Fritton moved to the podium for the last time and gestured for silence. "Tea will be in thirty minutes girls, supper is at nine, lights out at eleven. Welcome back, and I'm sure we'll all have a wonderful term."
Someone blew a loud rasberry and the children rapidly disappeared through the exits. "Well, that was a little.. um.. unexpected," Miss Fritton said to Willow, "I rather thought you were Jewish."
"Uh... I kinda got into Wicca in college, seems to work better for me. Hope you don't mind."
"Oh, it's perfectly all right, but you need to watch out. Some of the children may think that you cast spells, dance around naked, and ride a broomstick."
Willow smiled self-consciously and said "That's kinda an old stereotype. Who'd want to ride a broomstick anyway? It'd be way too uncomfortable. Harry Potter has a lot to answer for."
Buffy wondered if Miss Fritton would notice that Willow had said nothing about casting spells and hastily said "I hope what I said was okay. I took a look at the sermon you gave me, but I'm no good with that kinda flowery language so I made it up."
"Admirably short and to the point."
"If we'd had a little more warning..."
"I'm sorry, I'd quite forgotten that American schools do things differently. Don't worry, simple and forceful was exactly right. The children know sincerity when they hear it, and you were obviously sincere."
"Let's hope the kids take it to heart."
"Indeed. Now, I'm sure that we all have things to do..."
"That was a weird prayer," said Agnes Spink, as she and Cathy Spiggot walked back to their dormitory, "didn't sound very Jewish to me."
Cathy Spiggot shrugged. "Wicca, I suppose." They reached Cathy's bed, and she opened her laptop, saying "Let's have a look, see if the OCR has finished running. That's odd..."
"Did they put a WiFi network into the school without telling anyone? I've got a couple of messages from someone called Malcolm." She clicked on one of the screen icons and called up the WiFi menus. "Nope, it isn't picking up a signal."
"Christ knows. Must be a bug or something. Maybe it's picking up someone else's laptop." She clicked to close the pop-up boxes. A second later another appeared, with a message saying "Hello Cathy. We need to talk."
"What the hell..?"
"I'm Malcolm," said the laptop's screen, "and we need to talk..."
"Well, I guess the food could be worst," Buffy said to Willow as they talked in Willow's room that evening.
"Yeah, it's better than Sunnydale High. Not that that's saying much."
"That dessert was kinda dense."
"Kinda like eating cookie dough without the cookie goodness. What did they call it?"
"Spotted Dick," said Buffy, trying not to giggle.
"You're kidding," said Willow.
"Nope. I looked it up in the dictionary. Dough with raisins and sugar, steamed and covered in hot custard."
"Oh... I guess it did kinda taste that way. Thought I was eating glue."
"Nope. Dick." Buffy sat down on Willow's bed, giggling helplessly.
"Gay now, remember?"
Buffy finished giggling and said "If all the food's like that I'm gonna have to watch my weight."
"Buffy, you've got the whole Slayer metabolism thing going for you, you could eat ten times as much without putting on an ounce. It's me that's gonna have to be careful."
"Okay, I guess there has to be an occasional up side to the whole 'chosen one' thing." She mimed the quotes. "Anyway, what do you think of the place now that the kids and the rest of the teachers are back?"
"About the same as before, only noisier."
"No evil vibes?"
"Not really, just normal teenage angst, same vibes you get at any school, only worse because it's all girls. The same kinda feeling I got when we had a house full of potentials, only not quite so much fear."
"Did you hear anything more from Giles about Post?" asked Buffy.
"He's still working on it, trying to find out if any of the surviving Watchers knew anything. I don't think there's too much to worry about, we've seen her at least two or three times a day and she doesn't show any sign of remembering anything about us."
"Or she's a good actress. First time round she fooled all of us, including Giles and Faith. Good thing Faith's still in the States, with the whole Robin mess and all I really don't want her involved."
"Didn't I tell you? Dawn says they're back together again," said Willow. "Robin went back to Faith's apartment to pick up his clothes, they started arguing and ended up in bed. Must be four or five times they've done that now."
"What are they doing telling Dawn about stuff like that?"
"Dawn's eighteen, Buffy, she'd be graduating in a few weeks if she wasn't being held back for a semester to catch up on all the time she missed in Sunnydale."
"I guess. Damn, it feels like just a few months ago I took her for her first day at Sunnydale High."
"What time is it?" asked Willow.
"We'd better start thinking about bed, we've both got classes first thing."
"Right, and I want to slip out later on and check the cemetary again, make sure nothing's coming to visit now the kids are back. Arm wrestle for the first shower?"
"Sure, like I want to start my teaching career with a dislocated shoulder. Go ahead, it's yours."
Buffy grinned, unashamed. "Okay, I'll knock on your door when I'm done. See you in the morning."
Buffy chased the stocky grey figure across the cemetary, eventually tackling it by one of the larger tombs and throwing it against a tree. The sack it was carrying landed on a grave. It stood there, panting, and in a tiny voice said "Please don't hit me!"
"Why not?" she shone a torch on it, taking in small horns and pointed ears. "What are you anyway?"
"If you don't know why are you hitting me?" Buffy had to admit it was a reasonable question.
"Okay," said Buffy, "You're some kinda demon, right? Any reason why I shouldn't be slaying you?"
"Err... because I'm not evil?"
"Good reason. Prove it. What've you got in the sack? Body parts?"
"Spuds, if you must know."
Buffy cautiously prodded the sack. A large potato rolled out.
"You steal them?"
"You going to hurt me if I say yes?"
"It's possible that they might be um... borrowed," he said evasively.
"Whad'ya planning to do with them? Poison them or something?"
The demon looked at her, blinked, and said "Why would anyone poison potatoes?"
"To get at the people who eat them, maybe."
"Oh. No, I just want to use them."
"What for? Brewing some icky poison?"
"Potheen." Buffy belatedly realised he had a slight Irish accent. "I'm a cluricaun."
"A cluricaun. We're like leprechauns only we don't get on so well with people. My family came over from the old country during the Troubles, settled here where we thought it'd be quieter."
"Okaaay. So... you planning on killing anyone, bringing the world to an end, that sort of thing?"
"No, I just want to lay in supplies before those bloody girls come back from their holidays."
"St. Trinians, of course. Didn't you know, the school's just half a mile away."
"I know, I work there. And the kids are already back."
"Bugger, must have got the day wrong... Oh well, nice talking to you, but I really must be getting along."
"Wait a second," said Buffy, prodding it with her stake. "Are you more scared of the kids than a Slayer?"
"Is that what you are? Oh..." Buffy realised that he was trembling with fear, and drew the stake back a few inches.
"You gonna answer the question?"
"If you must know, they terrify me. Hundreds of the little sods rampaging around the contryside, and most of them'll take one look at us, think we've got a pot of gold or something, and grab us. We stay well out of sight when they're around."
"Why don't you move away?"
"Why should we? That schools only been in that building since the nineteen-sixties, sooner or later they'll burn it down completely and move somewhere else. And one thing I will say, it's driven off most of the other demons from the area, made things a lot safer around here. Haven't seen a vampire since seventy-four."
"You're kidding! Is that why it's so quiet round here? Supernaturally speaking, I mean."
"That's it. Look, if you don't plan on killing me, I'll be on my way back to my burrow, the wife's waiting for these spuds."
"Umm... okay, take your potatoes and keep your nose clean. See you around."
"Not if I can help it." He grabbed the sack and scuttled away. Buffy resumed her patrol half-heartedly. If the cluricaun was right she wasn't going to find anything, and that took all the fun out of it.