Disclaimer: Every character that has been taken from BtVS or AtS belongs to Joss Whedon. Every other character belongs to me.

A/N: This chapter was beta'd by FethingMadScientist, whose absolute patience and writing skills are surprising me constantly. Thank you for making 'Insight' a real story. Without your help, it would be just a bunch of unintelligible ramblings.

***

Los Angeles, 2006

“That went well,” Carrie snorted, jumping on the bed. She bounced a few times, checking its stability.

“No need of getting all sarcastic,” Jenna replied calmly, going through the stuff from her suitcase, “There might have been some shock, a little bit of hostility from that old British guy. But, I wouldn’t complain,” she finally found what she was looking for – a bunch of stakes. “That Fred chick seemed very nice.”

Carrie grimaced, “Oh, yeah, right – some shock. A little bit of hostility,” she mimicked the young slayer. “And my head’s about to explode because of all the positive vibes those people were radiating.”

Jenna gave her a concerned glance, “Do you need anything? A painkiller or…”

“I’m fine,” the telepath sighed, “If I want a painkiller, I’ll take a painkiller. Why do you and Spike treat me like a baby?” she pouted.

“Take a look in the mirror sometime.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Apart from that,” she said, sarcastically stretching vowels.

Jenna didn’t answer, occupied with arranging her slayer tools on the cupboard. Her friend wasn’t the one to argue. Instead she just lay on the bed, silent for a moment.

“And you?” Carrie finally asked, rising a bit from her position and giving the slayer a piercing glare.

“What about me?” Jenna asked, her back still turned to her.

“How are you feeling about all of this?”

“It’s not like you need me to spell it for you,” the slayer mumbled.

“Jenna. I feel,” Carrie sing-songed, “too many bottled up emotions…”

“Get off me, you freak!” Jenna couldn’t suppress the urge to giggle. “Back off, or I’m using my superpowers on you!”

“You do and I’m telling!” Carrie warned.

“Who? That dead guy of yours?” Jenna mocked, finally managing to throw the mind reader off her back. “So not scary if you have seen him watching, ‘Passions’.”

“The bloody preferred term is undead, you silly bint,” Carrie mimicked Spike’s British accent. “And don’t you dare make fun of ‘Passions’! It’s the most soddin’ valuable show on the telly… besides ‘Dawson’s bleedin’ Creek’…”

Jenna was rolling over the floor, laughing hysterically. Carrie couldn’t hold the serious face any longer, and burst into giggles.

Completely lost in the perfectly girlish moment, they forgot about their teenage dignity and started to wrestle like five-year-olds. When Jenna accidentally kicked the blue vase, that was standing on the table, to the floor, they stopped. They looked at the smashed china, then at each other and laughed hysterically.

When she was finally able to speak coherently, Carrie repeated her question, and Jenna’s smile vanished.

“It’s just…” she didn’t know how to explain her feelings, but with Carrie it didn’t matter.

At first, it really freaked the slayer out – the thought of somebody else knowing everything about her. Now, she found it comforting. There was only one rule she had to follow. Honesty. Even if the young telepath could read all her thoughts, and recognize all her moods, she still wanted to talk about her feelings. Talking was important.

So she talked.

“I felt so weak,” she finally confessed. “A-and ordinary. All those people in the lobby, all those girls… You know, I could feel their power. It was totally overwhelming, I didn’t know how to react. For the first time since I’ve had the power, I actually felt powerless.”

Carrie touched her friend’s arm lightly, reassuringly.

“It’s not that I haven’t known about the other slayers… about the rebuilt Council…” Jenna carried on, “But still… With you and Spike it was different. I was chosen. Who am I without that?”

“You’re Jenna,” Carrie replied, smiling fondly, “Who else would you be, Sis”

“Catherine Zeta – Jones?” the slayer responded with a spark in her eyes.

They sat in a perfect silence for a while.

“I’d really like to know what’s going on down there,” Jenna said out of the blue.

Carrie closed her eyes, “It’s hard to tell, sis. I’m getting very mixed signals… and I feel another headache coming. But… It’s just hard to tell.”

***

They were gathered in the study, where all the important meetings were conducted, and the decisions made. The study was Wesley’s kingdom – not that Buffy was surprised. ‘Oh, look at all those pretty, pretty books, neatly arranged on the shelves. And in the cupboards… And on the desk…’

Between those towers of paper knowledge sat Wesley, looking a bit small compared to the volumes, but apparently happy and secure.

Buffy snorted mentally. ‘Watchers’.

She wondered if Wes would ever forgive Giles for refusing to help somebody he cared about. Buffy had no idea who it was. She knew little about the whole case, since her current slayer duties were strictly removed from the rest of the Council’s business. She recalled the earlier fight about that stupid translation. Could Wes’s anger at Giles have been more obvious?

Wesley sat behind the desk. Both Angel and Connor stood on either side, looking like twin statues, arms folded – all tall, dark, and handsome… and brooding. The whole room seemed to be divided in two parts. In the left corner – defending champions of LA – the rest of the AI Team: Fred, Gunn and Lorne. In the right corner – pretenders to the honourable title of Los Angeles’s Heroes – the Scooby Gang: Dawn, Xander, Willow, Giles, Andrew, Faith and Wood; and, of course, her. Although the Scoobies outnumbered their opponents, Angel and his co-workers had the indisputable advantage of familiarity with recent events -

The recent event was leaning casually against the door frame with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, a smirk on his lips, and one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Let me get this straight,” Xander offered, breaking the heavy silence that fell after Spike’s words. “Two years ago, you were playing Phileas Fogg around the States, accompanied by The Pink. A year ago you decided to become a man about town, and terrorize Greenville, California, also known as, ‘ Sunnydale Redux’…?”

“Straight? For who?” Wesley mumbled, “So many years have passed and I’m still having problems understanding his strange manner of speaking.”

Angel’s improved hearing caught the sarcastic remark.

“You think there’s a dictionary?” he gave Wes a knowing glance.

“… Where you just happened to meet a minor version of Buffy. And, Buffy Junior just happened to have no ties to the Council… not only did she beg you not to do this…not to bring her to the Council… she went totally psycho and asked you to train her?”

Spike’s smile broadened, his amusement reaching its height, “No,” he replied happily.

Xander glared at him, “Since when are you all monosyllabic?” he asked suspiciously. “It’s unlike you… You could be the First!” he accused the vampire triumphantly. “You burnt to ashes in Sunnydale and now you appear all ‘New and Improved’…? Anyone touched him since he’s been here?” he turned to people gathered in the room.

Fred, who looked a bit frightened and taken aback by Xander’s hostile behaviour, raised a trembling hand, “A-actually I did,” she said hesitantly. “I – I kinda hugged him… If t-that counts, of course – ”

“Thank you Fred. It does,” Angel cut in wearily, getting more and more annoyed by Xander’s puerility. “Okay, I am aware of the fact that Spike’s not dusty. Even if I knew about it earlier than you did…Get over it, already! We have more important things to talk about! ”

“I also would like to return to the case of this girl, Jenna…” Giles didn’t even bother to let Angel finish.

Points for team Sunnydale, Buffy thought sarcastically.

“…Especially the bit where you meet her, realize she’s one of the slayers and that she’s not under the Council’s tutelage,” the Watcher’s glasses immediately went off his nose to be polished, very faithfully, “and you forget to contact us.”

“Bet you planned all of that. Stalked her to death and all,” Xander mumbled, unfortunately too loudly, “Undead liar guy.”

“Yo, Mr Paranoia, you can shut up now,” Gunn couldn’t hold back any longer, “Damn racists.”

“Racist? I’m a racist now?” the one-eyed man shouted disbelievingly. “You know who a racist is? Somebody that is intolerant towards people who are different. Pause, rewind, volume up – people –”

“Xander, please, this isn’t the right time…” Willow pleaded.

“So you‘re suggesting there actually is a right time for that kind of shit?”

“Hey, watch it,” Faith raised her voice, ready for action, “you’re talking to Willow here. A li’l bit of respect would be nice, Shaft.”

“Taking their side now?” Connor looked at the dark slayer incredulously. “Aren’t they the ones who kicked you out of their precious little circle?”

“You’re talking about things you’ve got no fucking idea about, kid – ”

“And here I thought you were actually cool – ”

“If you have anything against Faith,” Wood chimed in, taking a few steps in Connor’s direction, “you’re going to discuss it with me.”

“Would hate to break it to you, fogey,” Angel’s son gave him a scorning glance, “but I don’t get the impression she’s a damsel in distress. Well, she may be in distress, but sure as hell not a damsel…” he snorted insolently.

Faith grabbed Wood’s arm and stopped him from lunging at the boy, who was now making witty remarks about slayer’s strength and the leash she was keeping Robin on. Xander was calling Connor a hell spawn. Wes tried to calm them down, but when Giles insulted him for working for vampires and defending their unnatural brood, he stood up and snapped back that Giles was nothing more than ignorant. That provoked Dawn’s reaction, which got Lorne’s attention, and brought Andrew into the fight –

Ever heard of the domino effect? When one domino topples, it knocks over the next piece and that piece the next until it brings down the whole neatly arranged construction in no time?

Buffy looked at the adults yelling at each other.

Yep, that was it.

It was strange how indifferent to all this shouting she stayed. She should have joined them, she should have taken someone’s side. She should have quipped once or twice -

- Been the old Buffy.

She couldn’t. She wasn’t one of the domino pieces anymore. When had this happened?

Oh, yeah, right. The big fight. Losing her friends and slayers. Girls. So many of them… And now, there could be nothing more important than them, than keeping them alive. Though she hated to admit it, all of this had broken something inside her. But wasn’t it essential for her becoming the mother slayer, as the girls liked to call her? When they weren’t referring to her as ma’am, that is. And ma’am wasn’t taking any sides. Ma’am wasn’t getting into this. Ma’am was an example to all of them. A symbol of… of all the important, do-gooding stuff.

Have you ever seen arguing symbols?

Nope.

But they… They could quarrel. They could argue. And they were. And it was getting on her nerves. Calling names wasn’t what they were supposed to do now. They should have been asking very important questions about Spike’s whereabouts and his connection to these girls; and the answers should have so taken Buffy’s mind off the word jail-bait, because it was absolutely inappropriate, and irrational and… God he looked good in brown and…

“Shut up!” Angel shouted, “God, don’t you have any shame? How are you going to avert the Apocalypse if you’ve got problems talking to each other?”

“Listen, Dead Boy…” Xander wasn’t going to be shut up by someone who did not have a heartbeat.

“One more word, Xander, and I swear to God I’ll kick you out personally,” Angel growled. Xander stayed quiet, but the look on his chubby face showed just how much he hated obeying the vampire.

“Oh, come on, Peaches,” a mocking British voice broke the silence. “You ruined my fun.”

“Everybody you know at each other’s throats?” Angel paused, “Oh, wait. Sorry, stupid question – it’s exactly your kind of fun.”

“Yeah, well,” Spike sighed, “can’t blame a bloke for wantin’ the gits he hates bloody well dead. Let them kill each other. What do I care?” he shrugged casually and than turned to Connor. “Was voting for you, Forehead Junior.”

“Okay, before you piss off my son,” his grandsire said wearily, “answer the question.”

“And why would I do that, Peaches?” the younger vampire made a hurt face. “Here I am, leavin’ everythin’ behind, hurrin’ through the whole bleedin’ state, ‘cause Fred says y’all are in trouble and what do I get?” he shook his head with disappointment. “A bloody interrogation, that’s what. Expectin’ the Nazis to burst in any minute now.”

“Spike, you were a Nazi,” Angel pointed out matter-of-factly.

“I wasn’t! They got me with this whole ‘free virgin blood party’ gig. And the uniform was bloody fantastic…!”

“Beside the point… And don’t change the subject,” Angel was getting really tired of the constant banter, “How did you meet this slayer?”

“See, gramps, that’s what I was tryin’ to say, but who would listen?” the offended tone was back.

“Spike – ”

“I’m not the first one who met her. It was Carrie.”

***

Greenville, 2005

“Class, this is Carine Johnson,” Mrs. Roberts introduced in a cheery voice the petite girl. Jenna stared for a few seconds at her shiny, pink hair. ‘Wow’… she thought with a bit of respect, ‘She’s got the nerve to dye herself like that? She had the nerve, and parents who were either very tolerant, or… blind.

Personally, Jenna was voting for the second option.

“Carine, dear, tell us something about yourself,” Mrs. Roberts smiled sweetly; but Jenna knew she already hated the newbie. Yep, in this school you could get away with pretty much everything. Alcohol, drugs, cheating, stealing and bulling weren’t a problem- unless you were colouring your hair pink, of course. The principal was calling it caring for the students. Jenna was calling it hypocrisy.

“Hi,” the girl started, in a voice that trembled a bit, “As you have heard, my name’s Carine… But Carine’s kinda stupid, so it’s okay to call me just Carrie… Like the one from Stephen King’s novel… But no worries, I’m not planning on ruining a prom any time soon,” she smiled shyly, hoping they would get the joke.

‘Extreme optimist’, Jenna snorted mentally, ‘since people actually don’t read, anymore.’

Poor chick. They’re going to eat her alive.

Yep, but it was hers, not Jenna’s problem. Jenna could sympathize. And, she was going to, but she so wasn’t a school charity case. She had more important things to do than enlightening the new ones that, here it was against every natural law to be yourself. Okay, very dark scenario, but Jenna knew what she was talking about. She had experience, thank you very much.

She turned her attention to her notebook, listening with only one ear to what the girl had to say.

“… And I moved here a week ago with my… older cousin, w-who’s British and… yeah. A-and that’s all, I think,” she finished shyly.

“Thank you, Carine. Sit down, please.”

‘Oh, look, Mrs. Roberts absolutely disdained the girl’s request to call her Carrie instead of Carine – surprise, surprise!’

“Silence, please! Open your books on the page – ”

And so the torture that was Math began. The newbie – Carrie – took the table next to Jenna. Her reason was obvious – it was the farthest one from the teacher’s desk that was still free. And who’d like to sit anywhere near that old witch…? Apart from Amy Fisher who was a freaking toady?

“Um, excuse me?” Carrie leaned in Jenna’s direction. “Could I – could I take look at you handbook?” she asked politely. “I don’t have one yet – ”

Jenna leaned over, sharing her book.

“Exercise 3, page 56,” she murmured conspirationally. Knowing Roberts, she would make a scene because of Carrie’s lack of preparation to her lesson.

“Thanks.”

Somehow they managed to keep this whole sharing thing from Roberts’s eyes ‘til the bell rang.

“Thanks, again,” the pink-haired girl smiled, when they were packing their things and leaving the classroom.

“No problem,” Jenna beamed back, hoping the new would leave her alone and not –

“Do you, um, know where the next class is?”

‘Shit’, Jenna thought, and then felt a sting of shame when she saw the hurt on Carrie’s face.

“Sorry, you’re probably busy and I’m getting in your way,” she apologized. “I’ll ask somebody else…”

“What? No, no, it’s fine!” Jenna said with an oh-so-very-false smile. “I’ll show you, I don’t have anything important to do – ”

‘Yeah, besides checking my stake and holy water supplies’, she thought nervously – the same memory of the tonight’s patrol was making her all bad moody –

She turned around confused, when she noticed that Carrie wasn’t following her. The girl was standing motionless in the centre of the corridor, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“Carrie?” Jenna called her, feeling that she was starting to freak out. “Are you coming?”

Okay, she had seen many strange things in her short life but this chick was scaring the shit out of her and hey, she was the –

“Y-yeah,” she replied, shaking her head and looking more lucid than a moment ago. “I was just… um… I felt a little bit nauseous, ‘s all.”

– Slayer.

“Oh. You wanna go to see the nurse?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

Wonderful. So, not only did Jenna have to mentally prepare herself for a very scary patrol she was going on, all alone, but she was also forced to deal with a complete nut? You know, being a slayer and a student in the same lifetime really sucked.

Yeah, right. ‘Fine my ass.’

“Let’s go.”

***


Los Angeles, 2006

“… And y’ know, how hard it is to hide bein’ a slayer from people with whom you spend your time?” Spike looked intently at the core Scoobies. “Once, Jenna dropped her bag, and all of her stuff landed on the floor. A stake, among other soddin’ things,” Spike finished, shrugging.

“That is how your… protégée found out about Jenna’s identity, am I right?” Giles inquired suspiciously, “She saw the stake – ”

“… And asked the bleedin’ question. Yeah, somethin’ like that,” Spike chuckled lightly, not thrown off balance by watcher’s obvious lack of conviction. “Come on, Rupes, don’t look at at me as if I killed the cat. They were bloody thirteen. Believe me, not the best age ever.”

“Well,” the other Brit cleared his throat. “I am indeed quite surprised. I would never suspect that a slayer can act in such a careless way. Her duty requires – ”

The vampire laughed.

“… requires absolute devotion – “

“Please,” Spike he cut in, rolling his eyes. “You’re saying that after nine bloody years of being Buffy’s Watcher?”

“Hey!” Buffy protested, not only to the unfair representation of her… unusual behaviour, but to Spike’s dismissal. It was the first time Spike actually mentioned her name, and he did it as if she wasn’t even in the room.

She felt a slight sting of betrayal. But it was really slight. Like, in the slightest of the slightest. Barely noticeable. Probably wasn’t even there. And even if… just for a short second… the shortest of…

“You better buzz off, Undead Junior,” Xander took his friend’s side.

“If I weren’t bloody right, you wouldn’t be sayin’ that, ”the vampire snorted, “’cause you wouldn’t know her, if she had done what her soddin’ duty had required. You git.”

Xander remained silent.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is, that me and Jenna, we met by accident,” Spike said wearily. “And it was a bloody hard time for her, dealing with her newly found slayerness. She had no watcher, no friends… No one she could count on, and the weight of the whole soddin’ world on her shoulders.”

“B-but she wasn’t alone,” Willow said quietly, trying to sound absolutely non-judgmental. “The other slayers… they were somewhere out there, all along. Why didn’t you…?”

“Contacting the Council was out of question,” the bleached vampire said bluntly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean what it actually means,” Spike’s irritation was growing, “Do I have to write it down for you? Jenna didn’t want somebody to bloody watch her.” There was obvious hostility in the glare he gave Giles, “She wanted somebody to help her.”

“You dare to imply that we wouldn’t…”

The Watcher’s statement was suddenly interrupted by a loud pounding coming from the upstairs. Spike raised his eyes to the ceiling. Three, two, one – he mouthed and to everybody else’s surprise they heard a sound of smashed glass.

“They’re dead,” the vampire said dead panned and without any further explanation left the study.