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Emma doesn't have to face Phil that night. She gets home well after he's asleep, and she's far too exhausted to wake him up. And since she doesn't have to be up early- she doesn't have another shift for two more days- she sleeps well past when he leaves for work the next morning.

This leaves her plenty of time that afternoon to get herself worked up. Should she tell him? That resolves fairly quickly to 'yes'. He's her husband, he's dealt with all her parents' Watcher nonsense so far. But how to tell him, she can't not tell him, but she doesn't want him to think she's going back to being a Watcher. Slayers consult with plenty of people when they're active, right? Witches and priests and any of the other Watchers with expertise their own Watcher is lacking. She's not going to leave the girl hanging if she can help, but she's a nurse now. She has to be clear about that.

Should she tell her parents? That causes a lot more debate. Her parents don't know where the Slayer is, and it's upsetting them. And Emma does know where the Slayer is, and she has no desire to be a Watcher herself, so she really should tell them where the Slayer is, so they can arrange for someone to come and step in. But... Emma's kind of upset with her parents, right now. Watcher training is not more important than your daughter, than your daughter's expressly stated plans she made with her husband. And what if her parents insist that she has to be the Watcher, when she has no intention of doing so? She goes back and forth on that one for a while, and decides to get Phil's opinion. (He's her husband, they share, they come up with plans that work for both of them. Wouldn't it be nice if her parents could do the same?)

She briefly comes up with "should she tell the Watcher's Council separately from her parents", but dismisses that one even faster. Same problems as her parents, but her parents would also be upset she went over their heads. If she tells someone, it should be her parents, not the fussy old British men she's only met a handful of times.

And what happens if something happens to the Slayer in the meantime, that having a Watcher could have fixed? Is she responsible?

Emma is very stressed by the time Phil's home from work.
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Phil is familiar with his wife's faces. The one she's wearing when he gets home is the one he has dubbed Kernel Panic Face. He scoops her up in a hug. "You," he informs her, setting her down and poking her nose, "look like you've been working yourself up all day. Spill, babe."

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"Ugh," Emma says with a weary smile. "You know me too well, you know that? ...three guesses who showed up in my ER last night."

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"Kobe Bryant?"

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"What? No!"

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"Well, if it's not basketball, it can't be that big of a deal."

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"You have a problem, you know that? There should be basketball addiction treatment." She sighs and her smile dims. "But actually? The Slayer."

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"What, like the Slayer? Are you serious?"

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"How is this not my serious face."

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"...okay. Point taken. Um. What. But then who's her Watcher? I thought you said there weren't Watchers here, that's why we picked this place-"

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"I know! It is, we did." And the fact they both got jobs here, but Emma decides that point is unproductive at the moment and moves past it. "She doesn't have one. And I don't know what to do. I can't offer to be her Watcher, I'm not a Watcher any more,, but I'm afraid that if I tell my parents, or the Council, they'll insist that I do it, they won't send anyone, and what would I do then? I couldn't just let her die! And what if she dies now, because I should have gotten someone here and I didn't just because I was afraid of my parents, how horrible would that be, I can't-"

Emma's throat blocks up and she clings to Phil miserably. She doesn't know what to do, help, he's good at helping her decide things.
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Well, first step: hair petting. Emma is always calmer when her head is being scratched, so Phil can do that. Conversations with calm!Emma are much simpler.

"Breathe, breathe," he soothes. "It'll be okay. This is not on you, this is the Slayer's job, okay? She'll get a Watcher and she'll save the world sixteen times before breakfast and you'll forget you were ever worried about it." When she's started breathing more like a normal person, he tilts her face up and out of his collarbone. "What'd she say when you asked her?"
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"...asked her?"

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"Emma. Have you been sitting here stressing about the Slayer's Watcher all day and you didn't even ask her opinion?"

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This elicits a sheepish smile. "I was patching her up! She took out two Anet'lov demons, she was scratched all to hell and missing a bite from her arm! I was distracted, okay?"

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"The health care system is doomed," Phil informs her. "Overlooking serious things in the ER, shame on you. But seriously, babe? Go talk to her. She kills demons for a living, she can handle a conversation about the Watcher's Council."

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Emma cuddles up to him, feeling much better. "You're right, you're right," she says contentedly. "I'll talk to her, okay?" She looks up at him innocently. "But more importantly..."

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"Yeeeees?"

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"The head scratches stopped!"

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Phil laughs and resumes scratches, as requested. "Love you, babe," he says fondly. "Even when you're missing the obvious."

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"Love you too."

But Emma gets distracted, unfortunately. She's got shifts the following day, and the day after, and then her coworker goes into labor early and Emma has to pick up her shifts, and then it's suddenly five days later and she's just slept through really the entire day on her first day off because she's so tired. Well, now she's bright and awake, at least, she just slept for- what, fifteen hours? Wow. She was tired, wasn't she.

She knows she has things to do- errands, call her father back, there's laundry to do and dinner to make and Slayers to talk to. But she has just worked twelve hour shifts for five straight days, and she is officially doing that all later.

She curls up in the living room with a book and watches the sunset. It's a nice way to spend a lazy evening.
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The phone rings.

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Emma rolls her eyes. Her father is the least patient man in the universe. She unfurls herself from the chair and grabs the phone. "Hello?"

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"Are, um, are you that nurse, that my sister - Bella - she had that big bite on her arm -?"

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"That's me?"

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"She's - there's something - I think she's poisoned. She won't wake up."

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Crap crap crap crap crap crap- "Um, do you know what it was? What it looked like? Can you see a bite, is it- okay, where are you, I'll go get my car."

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"We're - she's in the backseat of our car in our driveway, I can't carry her, she was conscious most of the way home and then - I don't think anything bit her, I think maybe she touched something or breathed something...? She's not bleeding except from like little cuts - but she didn't tell me exactly -" She rattles off the address. "I tried a spell and it didn't work but I don't know if that's because I'm not very good or - what."

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Of course the Slayer has a sister who's a witch, why am I even surprised- "Okay, stay put, I'll be there soon."

Emma grabs all the books she has on hand she thinks might be relevant- she didn't keep that many, she's not a Watcher, but not being a Watcher didn't mean demons stopped existing, she still has some- and heads for her car. She doesn't need to grab a first aid kit; she keeps one in the trunk.

After some questionably legal driving that only pretended to obey the speed limit, Emma's at the address provided. "Hello?" Drat, she didn't get the witch's name. "Little sister Swan?"
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"Soph," says Soph, and she opens the backseat of the station wagon for Emma. "She's still breathing. Normally, even. I put her on her side? Is that what you're supposed to do?"

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Bella is curled up on her side across the bench, hair in a ponytail, cross necklace on. There are some little scratches on her but no bites or claw marks. There's a messenger bag on the floor of the backseat, half-open, with a crossbow, a plastic bag full of water balloons, and a couple of stakes partly visible.

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"Emma," Emma replies somewhat distractedly. "Nice to meet you, other than the circumstances."

Emma pulls out her first aid kit and gets to examining. Firs things first- Bella might have been poisoned, so the gloves are going on. The larger of the scratches are dressed and bandaged, as long as she's here, but for the most part Bella's unscathed and she can focus on poison-searching. She snorts when she sees the water balloons, but otherwise mostly ignores the Slayer paraphernalia while she searches (except insofar as she has to maneuver around it). It's not like she's surprised Bella has a pile of stakes.

When she get to Bella's hands, she finds a slimy goo between her fingers and jerks backwards. "Okay, bad, bad bad bad. You-" she points at Soph- "no touching your sister. Just in case there's more of this."

She doesn't even remember the name of this particular demon, since they're not all that common, but they're common enough that there's a short note about them in one of her books. She pulls it out and finds the reference; the cure is complicated, but at least it exists.

"Okay, so, she's-" Emma rethinks her decision to explain any of this to a panicked younger(?) sister. 'Your sister will forever be a comatose vegetable without the cure' seems unnecessarily traumatizing. "-curable," she says instead. "It's a stupidly complicated cure, but it is a cure. I might need you to help brew it, though, I've never actually made it before."

Most of her work is nice and straightforward and the medicine already exists. There are, unfortunately, no stores in Sunnydale that stock demon antidotes, and brewing is not a heavily emphasized Watcher skill. At least she has a witch handy to help.
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"I don't know potions - I have a witch friend who knows potions - I'll call her," says Soph, and she pulls her phone and dials Alli.

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"...Soph? What's up?"

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"Bella's been poisoned, nurse says there's a brewable antidote and you know brewing."

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"That is- wait, shit, what? Poisoned? By what, how- actually, no, potion recipe first, just because I have made potions does not mean I can make all potions but I will damn well try."

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Soph thrusts the phone in Emma's direction.

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More witches. Emma feels slightly like she has slipped into an alternate universe. Either from her childhood or her nightmares, she's not sure. Probably both. But she takes the phone. "Hi?"

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"Oookay, you're not a Soph. Whatever. Potion recipe, so I can figure out if the damn thing's even possible?"

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Emma rattles off a list of ingredients and instructions. "You'll have to make it here, it has to be served warm, and unless you know Aramaic I'll have to help for some of the incantations, but I, um. Don't think it's impossible?"

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"Damn, that is a list, that- okay, yeah, I can make it, I don't have all of that but I have a lot of it. One of you come get me? Plus a shopping detour. Magic Box and the grocery store both. And possibly also the hardware store if the grocery store is its usual level of shit."

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"I'll do it," Emma says immediately. Bella's car is not exactly available and it's really not clear to her that Soph is old enough for a license.

"Soph, here-" she digs out an extra set of gloves. "Don't move her if you can help it, but don't let her lie face down either, side or back are both fine. We've got some time, she's not going to decline quickly or anything." Emma gives it a couple of days give or take before she'd have to move Bella to a hospital, but the cure only takes about twelve hours to prepare, so that tidbit can wait until afterwards. "I'm going to get Alli, okay? Just- wait here. Call me if anything happens."

She extracts Alli's address from her and goes to play chauffeur.
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Alli requires reminding of some of the recipe steps when Emma arrives, but she was mostly packed. Her mother makes some brief fluttery objections at the idea of Alli going off somewhere with a stranger late on a school night, but Emma manages to Responsible Adult their way out of it, Alli's not quite sure how but she appreciates it.

They do not wind up needing to go to the hardware store, but they stop for ingredients at both the grocery store and the Magic Box. The Magic Box is in the process of closing for the night, but a combination of Alli's regular customer status and Emma's continued Responsible Adult (Alli giggles a little to see that Emma's put on her ER nurse badge, even) and they're allowed to make their purchases anyway. And then they head for the Swans' house.

Alli promptly starts lugging bags out of the car. "Okay, Soph, potion making class is no longer optional," she tells the other witch. "I have like forty five damn ingredients to get chopped and measured and combined. Help. And! Also! Want to tell me what the hell happened? Because I am familiar with your curfew, dude, it is past your curfew, and what the hell got to your sister that I'm making a potion that's complicated as shit to fix it."
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"She was going into a nest of - of things - she'd been going to wait until she knew more about them but a little kid wandered in. The kid's fine," says Soph, setting up to help chop.

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Alli provides Soph with some spices and the desired quantities thereof. She then gets to work mashing up some weirdly shaped mushrooms from the Magic Box. "Okay, I get the... the... save the kid syndrome shit. I think. But you said she was waiting. Why was she waiting? Why the hell was it Bella in there, she has a cop dad with a gun and a witch for a little sister!"

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"She's, um." Sigh. "She's the Slayer? Also I can do like - four things, probably two under pressure?"

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"Aaaaaand a slayer is what? Other than 'person who slays things,' I get that."

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"The Slayer," Emma says, somewhat automatically (why hello, flashback to Watcher quizzes, how Emma didn't miss you), "is the girl, usually a teenager, who is imbued with mystical powers that help her kill evil creatures. Mostly vampires."

She finishes grinding up some spices in the mortar Alli gave her and starts measuring piles into a mixing bowl, chanting carefully as she combines them. When she's done, she continues. "Except this was not vampires, these were Sonoral Demons, and they happen to be extremely venomous. How she killed enough of them to get the kid out at all is something of a miracle, to be honest. They're hard to kill if you don't know what they are, and that's if they don't poison you first."
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Alli looks like she would facepalm if she wasn't occupied measuring potion ingredients. "Aaaand now I just have more questions. Soph, what the hell is going on. Vampires?!"

Also, who is this lady and how do you know her and how does she know any of this, but since at this point Alli is expecting to be asking questions until Doomsday, she can wait.
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"I did the rose quartz blessing on her. I hope it helped, but - I don't know, she still got poisoned. Alli I barely know more than you do all I know is a couple weeks after we moved in she suddenly wasn't clumsy anymore and then a little later this thing showed up in our bedroom and asked why she hadn't been getting dreams from it and it was all, 'you are the Slayer', and from there it's been - books and me trying to witch it up or figure out why she can't - might as well ask, is that because of being the Slayer, Emma, can Slayers not do spells? - and there's vampires but there's a lot fewer of them now because we have a key to the morgue and just stake everybody who comes through preemptively with little slivers of wood -"

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Emma shakes her head. "Keys to the morgue and holy water balloons. You two are nothing if not resourceful, I have to give you that." She thinks for a moment. "The rose quartz protections aren't really designed for poisons, you'd probably need a different kind of quartz. Smoky quartz is for anti-magic protections and snow quartz is for mental protections, I think? I don't remember the rest."

At Soph's question, she blinks confusedly. "Um. A thing showed up in your bedroom? That's- I've never heard of that, what thing? Slayers as a rule don't become witches, but that's- that's because a lot of it's dark and it's horribly addictive, not because they can't, there are stories of Slayers who've cast spells."
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Alli splutters wordlessly for a second, then settles on looking alarmed. "Okay, and- who are you, exactly? And how do you know this? Magic is addictive, what do you mean, is this like coffee or like heroin or what?"

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"There's- a group of people who know about-" she waves her hands somewhat confusedly, "-all this. They're called Watchers. My parents are both Watchers, so I kinda grew up with it." She hems and haws for a second. "Closest to alcohol, I'd say."

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"Aw, damn, am I gonna - anyway yeah there was a thing. It said it was a Power That Be? Power That Is, I guess, there was only the one of it?"

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Emma stares. Then, in a strangled voice, she says, "Well, no one can accuse you two of having lives that are boring. You had a Power- gods all, when this is over, I need a drink."

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"Not before my potion's done you don't," Alli says fiercely, totally ignoring the origin of the recipe. "Soph, I need those two now, I have to combine them-"

Things are starting to be added to heat. Very carefully and with Emma occasionally contributing chanting, the potion is taking form. Mix, stir, add things, chant, repeat. Emma wasn't kidding about it being complicated.

After about five minutes, Alli dubs the potion ignorable enough that she can return to an actual conversation. "Your life," she informs Soph, "is both wickedly cool and insane as shit. Like, what the hell, man."
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"It seemed annoyed about having to show up? It said that usually there's dreams and Bella didn't have any dreams."

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"Slayers do usually have prophetic dreams," Emma says slowly. "I don't really know why Bella wouldn't. But. Um. Generally speaking? Don't annoy the Powers That Be?"

Emma is making herself an Understatement of the Century award when she gets home. Along with a very strong cocktail.
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"We didn't annoy it. Particularly. More annoyed than it was already by having not given her any dreams."

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Emma sighs. "I didn't mean that time, just- if they show up again. Or something. I know you didn't annoy them on purpose, since you are not currently in a Hell dimension."

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"...Uh..."

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"...Sorry. Not the time. I was just, um." Shocked? Floored? Moderately horrified? The Powers That Be. "Surprised. Breathe, okay? They're not irrational. You'd have to be actively trying to annoy them for them to get actually mad."

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"Yeah, see, that face? That face is my past two hours. Welcome to being me right now."

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"Bella didn't want to tell people."

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"Okay, but that is like- one baby piece. In a world that now has demons and vampires and gods. And the one cool thing is magic and it's apparently addictive. You see where I am maybe not liking today?"

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"Yeah. I didn't know about the addictive thing."

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Alli shrugs, as much as is possible while stirring a potion. "Not your fault. It's just- it's shitty, right? Magic's too cool to stop using." She pulls a couple of vials out of her pocket, chugs one and rolls another in Soph's direction. "Have some Pick Me Up. As long as we're addicted anyway. What's one more feel good potion?"

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"Uh, wow, I feel like I'm in a bad PSA. No thanks? I might not be addicted yet?"

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"...well, now I feel like Devil's Advocate," Emma says with a smile. "Or possibly a hypocrite. That said- Soph, I'm impressed by your restraint and I'm all for avoiding magic addiction, but potion magic is in the making of the potions, not the drinking. Granted, with a few exceptions. But if that's actually a Pick Me Up, it's just going to wake you up a bit."

She speaks the last chant over a bowl Alli offers her, and then looks at the recipe, which has been residing in front of Alli. "Now what?"
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"Of course it's actually a Pick Me Up," Alli says indignantly. "I'm not going to poison her or anything!" But she sighs and adds, "Sorry, Soph, I was kidding. No magic from the already-made potion, promise."

She dumps Emma's chanted-over bowl into the cauldron and turns the heat up. "Now- we boil it for half an hour, simmer it for three hours, and then we get to do that stir every hour thing we all think is deeply shitty. Thus. Pick Me Ups. We can stir in shifts, I guess, but no one here is about to get a hell of a lot of sleep." She offers one to Emma.
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Emma isn't wild about the idea of taking untested potions from a teenager, but she feels like she's sort of gotten herself stuck with it by standing up for the thing in the first place, so she drinks it. And then regards the bottle with appreciation. "Not bad. Careful or I'll take it with me to the hospital for my ER shifts."

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"Is it like actually better than coffee, because we have coffee."

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"It's- basically coffee. It shouldn't make a difference, at least for tonight? But trust me, hospital coffee is not something one drinks willingly."

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"I just make instant and then put chocolate syrup in it."

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"I'm not going to double up-" and the look she gives Alli is full blown I Am A Nurse And Trained Medical Professional Face, clearly meaning and you shouldn't either, "because we all need some sleep. But if you'd rather make yourself a mocha, go ahead."

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"We have an actual coffee machine but I'm not patient enough -" Soph wanders towards the cupboards where the instant coffee lives. "Um, my dad is going to be home in a couple hours."

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"Well, the potion will be done around sunrise. Soooo. Are we explaining or sneaking?"

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"Explaining. But let me answer the door."

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"Deal." She carefully turns up the heat on the potion until it's boiling, stirs it carefully twice in each direction, and then puts down the spoon. It's a metal spoon with a towel around the base- wooden spoons would not like this particular potion, the recipe was pretty clear about that. "Go en-coffee, Soph. We've got about twenty minutes until we have to pay attention to this thing again anyway. Someone set an alarm?"

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Emma's cell phone is volunteered.

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Soph mixes up a coffee and puts chocolate syrup in it and sips.

"She'll be totally okay after the potion?" she asks Emma.
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Emma looks somewhat uncomfortable. "It's- she'll have been having nightmares. I don't know what about, she'll probably be upset. But she'll be fine otherwise."

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"Nightmare poison? Oh my god."

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It could have been a lot worse, in Emma's opinion; it's not fast acting or deadly poison, or a claw through the stomach, or being turned into a vampire (gods forbid). This is fixable. But the ER has taught her that mentioning all the here-are-even-more-horrible-scenarios is never, ever helpful.

"We have a cure, it's brewing, she'll be awake soon. Okay?"
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"Y-yeah."

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"Okay, guys, shifts. Who's taking what? Three hours awake, six asleep? Does that work?"

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"I can do the middle shift," Emma offers. She has lots of practice keeping odd hours, one more night of it won't kill her.

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"I'd better stay up till Dad's home."

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"Well, last shift for me then. Soph, you know the deal, right? Stir twice each direction, one full rotation, every hour. Aaaalso, got anywhere for me to nap while we're waiting?"

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"Is the couch okay? You can take my bed if you'd rather, I'm top bunk."

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"I should probably defer to the adult, or something. Nurse lady?"

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"Emma," Emma reminds her. "And couch. I'd just fall off the bunk."

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"Wicked. Soph, I'm off to attempt some shut eye. Wake me up if you need me, okay?"

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"Same."

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"Y-yeah."

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Charlie is home after Emma and Alli have been asleep for a while.

He blinks at the potion on the table.

"Soph?"
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"Hi - um - Bella got hurt but she's going to be fine I called that one nurse whose number she gave us and also my witch friend and I'm babysitting this potion and it'll be done in a few hours and she'll be fine. She's in the backseat of the car, we didn't want to move her."

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From her nap on the couch, Emma hears the door close and stirs. She's briefly confused by her location, but sorts it out and sticks her head around the door. Soph said to let her talk, so she is carefully quiet in case Soph's not done, but she at least attempts to catch her eye in a sort of 'hi I am kind of backup' way.

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"What happened?"
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"She'd been waiting to go in to a place until she knew more but there was this little kid. The little kid is fine and Bella's gonna be fine."

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Charlie glances at Emma.

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"Physically she'll be fine," Emma confirms. "She had a few scratches but they weren't serious. I patched them up already, no stitches or anything. It's just- for her it'll feel like she slept a while and had a lot of nightmares? It's dangerous if it goes on too long, same as a coma, but she'll be awake well before she'd be in any danger."

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"How d'you know this sort of thing?"
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"There's- a group of people who specialize in this kind of thing. Based in England, for the most part. My parents are both in it, so I grew up with it. Comes in handy, here. We see a lot of this kind of thing in the ER."

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"Good luck that Bella ran into you."

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"Yeah." Emma glances outside towards the car. "Normally the organization sends someone to help her with this kind of thing. They haven't been able to find her. I was going to talk to her about it on my day off, but- well. I guess I can ask her sooner."

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Charlie considers this, then decides he doesn't have anything to say on the subject.

"Wouldn't've been amiss to call me," he tells Soph, "once you had the - potion - going, but you did good, Soph."
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"Thanks," Soph mumbles.

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Emma smiles. Charlie sounds about as excited about the idea of potions existing as she ever did about Watcher lessons.

"You can tell your sister you saved her when she wakes up," she suggests. It's not going to be every day Soph gets to save Bella, rather than vice versa; she might as well enjoy it.
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"I guess. Do you want to take your turn with the potion now or go back to sleep?"

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Emma checks her watch. She's short sleep by an hour or so, but she's up anyway. She knew she was signing up for this with the middle shift anyway. "I'll just stay up, why not. Get some rest, I'll have Alli wake us up when-" she takes pity on Chief Swan and his potion-related uneasiness- "we're done here."

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"'kay." Soph swaps places with Emma and flops on the sofa.

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Charlie pats her on the head. And goes up the stairs. Whether he plans to fall asleep there is anyone's guess.

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Early that morning, Soph and Emma are shaken awake by Alli. "Up, up, up, it's done, I think it worked, it's the right color and everything, come ooon, up!"

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Soph blinks awake. "So - so we can give it to Bella now?"

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Emma drags herself awake, yawning and blinking. That was not enough sleep, she thinks tiredly. "Probably. If it's the right color, that's a good sign-" yawn, "-but let's test it on her hand first. She still has some of that goop between her fingers, it'll evaporate on contact if we did it right."

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Under Emma supervision, the hand goop is tested. It evaporates. Alli beams. "We did it! Soph? You okay with this? Do you want to, dunno, get your dad or something?"

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"I want to wake her up first thing. Better to wake him up when she's already, you know, up."

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Emma measures the correct dosage of potion into a glass and hands it to Soph. "All yours."

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"Uh - okay. She just drinks it? How do I get her to drink it while she's unconscious?"

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"She's closer to asleep. If you're slow and careful she should be able to swallow it."

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"Okay..."

Soph manages to get most of the potion down Bella's throat.
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Bella shudders.

And cracks open one eye.
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Alli is so excited, she made a potion and it worked and she helped save Bella and this is all so cool. But she attempts not to bounce too much, because Soph has been extremely stressed and that seems awfully mean for no reason. But still. Bella is awake, that is a good thing, she can be a little excited. "Bella? Bella, hey, are you okay?"

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"I have an awful taste in my mouth and no idea how I got here."

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"You got poisoned," Soph says, hugging her hard. "I called the nurse and Alli and we made a potion and it's Sunday morning, about eight a.m., did you have awful nightmares?"

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"No, not especially? I had dreams, one of them involved failing dramatically to have exact change while trying to buy an unspecified soda. Was I supposed to have nightmares?"

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"You were supposed to have nightmares," Emma confirms. "But you're also supposed to have prophetic Slayer dreams, and Soph says you got to skip those too, so maybe this is related? But, um. Question for later. You should check in with your dad, he was pretty worried."

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"Oh - yeah. I'll do that."

Bella gets out of the backseat of the station wagon and goes into the house.
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"I'm glad she wasn't having nightmares. I didn't even think of it as maybe skippable like the dreams the Power was annoyed about her not getting."

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"I didn't either," Emma points out. "But better we're surprised that she didn't then upset that she did, I suppose."

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"Yeah. Um, thank you for helping."

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Emma smiles. "I'm a nurse. This is just- slightly unusual medicine."

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Alli snorts. "If you say so."

She is firmly of the opinion that this is witchcraft and as such it's still way cooler than nursing, but since Emma was the one who rescued Bella she will be reserving that opinion.
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"You too, Alli. Thanks."

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Alli shuffles uncomfortably. "Sure," she mutters. "I mean. Wasn't gonna let Bella stay like that."

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"I know."

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Bella comes down the stairs. "So, I assume my limited cover that I still had with Alli is totally blown now. It was nothing personal, I just default to not telling, Alli."

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"Yeah, well, my reaction to Soph's Big Reveal was um what the hell's that so, whatever."

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Emma examines their group dubiously. "Slayers don't usually tell people other than their Watcher, but it's not unprecedented, I suppose," she says. "On which subject- Bella, did you know the Watchers can't find you?"

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"...What's a Watcher?"

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"That's what my parents are. Someone, usually someone old and British, who knows about... all this... and can advise you and train you. There are many books."

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"That sounds... potentially helpful and potentially like I'll want to break their nose after a week. Do I get to go through a selection of old British people and pick one I get along with?"

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"Well, usually there are Watchers near most of the potential Slayer candidates, so you'd already have one. I'm not sure how often this comes up. They might just pick someone."

Don't project opinions, don't project opinions, Bella gets to make her own choices!
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"Wow, that would have been really weird and creepy if there had been an old British person stalking me before I was even the Slayer. What's even the point of that?"

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"Training starts early, mostly. Memorizing demons is boring, but it's better than the alternative when you're charging blind into a nest of Sonoral Demons."

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"...what fraction of possible Slayers wind up as actual Slayers?"

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"Well, I'm sure they don't find all the potential Slayers. But pretty small. Slayers have a pretty small age window for being activated; mostly the girls just get too old."

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"So at any given time lots of old British people are stalking and training various possible Slayers, most of whom will never need it? Unless that's where more Watchers come from is ex-Slayers with lots of memorized demons and no enhanced stabbing skills?"

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"Some of them join up. Some become demon hunters anyway. There aren't very many of either type. Most just- go about their daily lives. Not becoming the Slayer doesn't mean demons cease to exist, it's still useful sometimes. I've patched up quite a few demon bites myself since I got here."

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"Hrm. ...And what is the professional Slayer/Watcher relationship usually like?"

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"...Hmm. Um. Teacher/student's probably not a bad way to think of it?"

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"I'm not sure I want one. I could use a support staff - could I ever - and a tutor wouldn't go amiss, but teachers tend to think it's their job to push..."

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"Well, I won't tell them if you don't want me to. But they're likely to find you eventually. It's worth having an approach planned out." Emma wonders if she can claim memory loss, should her parents ask her why she failed to notice or report a Slayer in her own town. "I'm curious, though. Support staff?"

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"Demon-related information services. Medical attention that's less suspicious than non-you hospital nurses. Legal finagling if I kill something that leaves a humanlike-looking body or somebody pins a vampiric disappearance on me or I get spotted breaking in somewhere for legitimate supernatural purposes - Dad can help with this, but he's not a lawyer and every use of nepotism makes the other cops that much more suspicious. On-call rides to and from demonically infested places. Witching. Keeping me afloat in school if Slaying interferes with doing it the usual way. Hell, cash - it doesn't make sense for the one and only Slayer to have to save up her allowance for a crossbow. If there's lots of old British people in on this, any ten of them could work day jobs and tithe modest quantities so I didn't need to try to come up with some kind of career/Slaying balance once I move out of Dad's house. Since there's only one of me."

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"Demon information, yes. On call rides generally also yes. Medical attention and witching they usually go with a find a helpful local approach. Legal and financial- might be out of their hands, unfortunately. They don't have a lot of power, particularly not outside of England, and no one's managed a successful tithe system yet. I think historically they've been treated as walking talking demon encyclopedias, for the most part."

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"Well, walking demon encyclopedias could come in handy, but... I don't know, maybe I'm being paranoid, but - some of the ways an organization could maintain itself in a position of authority over non-volunteer superpowered teenage girls with short life expectancies who self-replace, over a long period of time, are not A+ best practices?"

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"Paranoia is a healthy Slayer trait," Emma says wryly. "I'm sure there have been problems, no organization's perfect, but they're hardly bedtime stories my parents would be telling me, so I can't trot out specific examples or anything like that. I can say, as someone who has been a young girl around a number of Watchers- they seem to rely largely on British etiquette? We are your elders and are more knowledgeable about demons than you are, respect our age and learning, that sort of thing."

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"I feel like if I got anywhere near this organization I'd want to either collect one non-objectionable Watcher and take them home with me to be my encyclopedia and never interact with the others, or spend a lot of time instituting social reforms. I wonder if I can contact them anonymously."

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Emma chuckles at the picture of Bella running rampant through the Watcher's Council. "I can give you the email address of someone on the Council, if you decide you want to get in touch."

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"That would be swell. Er, I don't stereotype old British people as being particularly cunning hackers, but if you advise me to take stronger security measures while negotiating than 'use a library computer and a new email account' I will."

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"There exist people in the know who are technologically competent, but Watchers are not among them. Library away."

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"Okay. I'll take that email address then."

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Emma scrounges up pen and paper and writes it down. She hands it to Bella. "All yours. Let me know if you have more questions, I suppose? I should get Alli home and get some sleep."

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"Thank you. Very much. I won't keep you longer."

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"You're welcome. I'm just glad you're all right." She did get into medicine to help people, after all.

Emma collects Alli from where she'd fallen back asleep on the Swan's couch, drops her off, and returns home. Time to give her husband a more complete, less text-messaged report, and for the love of everything, get some more sleep.
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And the next day, Bella goes to the public library, opens a brand new email account (her handle is "chosenone", 'cause, why not), and emails the address Emma supplied:

Hello, this is the Slayer. I understand you're looking for me. Should I want you to find me?
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This email causes- not quite a mass panic, but certainly mass fluttering. Extremely confused and somewhat indignant fluttering. The resulting response is somewhat accusatory.

Dear Anonymous Slayer,

We have been looking for you for months! We cannot send you your Watcher to supervise your training and improvement as a Slayer if we cannot locate you. Please get in contact with us as soon as possible so we can evaluate you and assign you a Watcher as efficiently as possible.

Sincerely,
The Watcher's Council
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Dear Watcher's Council, replies Bella at the same time as her first email the next day, unwilling to give more than one bit of information about her schedule. I will be happy to tell you where to find me if, and only if, I am satisfied that this will do me and my projects more good than harm. Please answer the following questions:

1) Who do you want to assign as my Watcher, and how is that decision made?
2) What sort of evaluation do you have in mind?
3) What is the content of your training curriculum?

- the Slayer
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Dear Anonymous Slayer,

You may be assured that the Watcher's Council has many centuries of experience in assigning Watchers. Your evaluation can of course not be discussed until complete, lest the results be contaminated. Additionally, we cannot reveal the content of our training curriculum to an unverified, anonymous account with adequate proof of your identity.

Sincerely,
The Watcher's Council
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Dear Watcher's Council,

Okay then, never mind.

- the Slayer
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The Watcher's Council is initially reasonably unconcerned. Or at least less concerned. With tentative proof that the Slayer is hiding rather than uncalled, efforts are redoubled to find her. Watchers are contacted, with an emphasis on those in reasonably English-speaking countries or where the timestamps of the mysterious emails are within even faintly reasonable hours of alertness. They re-try their initial scrying attempts, hoping for a delay in her calling, or a weakness in her hiding methods; they try a few newer and more obscure forms of scrying. All of them fail.

Efforts are made to trace the emails. This also fails, somewhat spectacularly. The Watcher's Council has no one particularly knowledgeable on technology, and no good leads on how to locate such people; the Venn diagram of "competent with technology", "in the know enough to be told about Slayers and Watchers" and "locatable by the Council" turns out to be one technopagan up in Scotland who is utterly disinclined to work with the Watchers, and even less so when they explain their goal. He sides with the missing Slayer; the Watchers are welcome to find her themselves.

Finally, after a week, they are forced (extremely unwillingly) to admit that they are not infallible, and they may not be able to find this girl without her help. Another email is sent.

Dear Anonymous Slayer,

Surely you understand we cannot blithely reveal Council information to any anonymous account claiming to be the Slayer. What can you reasonably expect us to do that would make you willing to reveal yourself?

Sincerely,

The Watcher's Council
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Dear Watcher's Council,

Is anyone
else telling you they're the Slayer? I could certainly understand your reluctance to believe me if there's competing claims. I actually do not understand why the council feels the need to be particularly secretive about any of the questions I have asked, as the three of them together boil down to 'what do you do with non-volunteer teenage girls once you have found them'. A lack of transparency about what you do with non-volunteer teenage girls once you have found them worries me very much.

- the Slayer
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Dear Anonymous Slayer,

The fact that the Slayer is missing and minimally active is not widely known, but becoming less so. That you are the first to claim Slayerhood does not make you the most reliable. That you find our methods 'worrisome' is suspicious by itself. Do you also regularly demand that your school provide you with your tests before you are given them?

Sincerely,
The Watcher's Council
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Dear Watcher's Council,

Feel free to decide that I'm not the Slayer and that you don't want to Watch me; you aren't selling your usefulness nearly well enough to make me eager to prove myself. Public education in the developed world is subject to considerable regulation, parental and public scrutiny, reform activism, and oversight which I suspect you do not have, and the general scope of tests is known even when the questions are not.

- the Slayer
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This causes the man who had previously been responding to emails to degenerate into a frothing pile of indignation, spluttering about "The effrontery of her!" and "no respect for her elders, none, who does she think she is-" to the point where he is quietly assigned something else to do. The Watchers would like to not lose track of this Slayer again, and driving her away will not help.

Eventually, a replacement is selected, largely by virtue of 'as different from Hughes as possible'. Soon, Bella has a response.

Dear Slayer,

I apologize for the attitude of your previous correspondent, though I do hope you understand his (poorly expressed) caution. Our goal is to help and support you in your goal; to be a source of knowledge and research and training. While I readily admit our initial replies leaves much to be desired, we are genuinely trying to help you. Please know that.

Sincerely,
Tamara Reed
Watcher's Council

P.S. The general scope of the tests is 'kill demons'. Hopefully I haven't ruined the surprise.
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Dear Tamara,

Thanks for replacing the previous Watcher.

I'm definitely interested in engaging help from various quarters, but by the time I found out Watchers existed, I was already underway on constructing my own support system and consider going on with that a viable option. Your plausible advantages of experience and knowledge are only good to me if they don't come with enough personality conflict and wastes of time to outweigh improved speed and accuracy at finding how to kill specific demons or interpret any given prophecy, and I am keenly aware that there are probably people who think that if they don't like the current Slayer they might want to hurry up and get ahold of the next one, so to speak. At present my identity is the only leverage I have as long as I don't want to take up assaulting living human beings, so I'm being cagey.

What do you say to consulting by e-mail for a while?

- the Slayer
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Dear Slayer,

Glad to help. You might consider adding resources to your list; the Watcher library is extensive, and Watchers often have supplemental personal libraries of their own. I understand your caution (and it's a healthy instinct for a Slayer I happen to applaud) but I promise my goal as a Watcher is to help you become a better Slayer. With that in mind, if e-mail makes you more comfortable, I'm happy to arrange a trial run.

Sincerely,
Tamara Reed
Watcher's Council
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Dear Tamara,

Good to know. I'll put this email account on my phone and stop emailing at only specific times of day; this will presumably make me easier to track down, but I think I'm going to extend you enough trust to allow that on the understanding that I don't want to work with you if you turn up or look into the details of my life before I ask you to.

One thing I haven't been able to find much about in the books I've turned up is the existence of people who can't do magic. I've been trying to supplement my Slayer-ability package and gotten no results. Any idea why that might be?

- the Slayer
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Dear Slayer,

I think I can manage that much. As it happens, I find travel tiresome and stressful and welcome the excuse to avoid it.

There's actually a few ways on record for humans to be unable to perform magic. By far the most common is a simple lack of magical power. But we've also been unable to locate you with magic. Have you encountered any other plausible magic-related abnormalities that could be relevant that you're willing to share?

Sincerely,
Tamara Reed
Watcher's Council
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Bella drops the salutation. I also have no prophetic dreams and had to be notified of my calling in person by a Power That Be, and didn't have any nightmares when poisoned by a Sonoral demon.

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A Sonoral demon is a rather obscure demon for a new Slayer to know the name of. And implying she survived the poisoning raises a whole extra set of questions. But Tamara decides it is the course of wisdom to leave these questions be, temporarily. This Slayer brings new meaning to the word 'skittish'.

There are cases on record of humans born with innate mental defenses. There is no precedent of Slayers with such abilities, so I cannot speak to your prophetic dreams, but it's the closest match for the experiences you've mentioned. Does that seem plausible?

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Sounds it. Does this have any other ramifications I should know about?

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It prevents you from performing most known forms of magic, which you seem to already know, which has its pros and cons. It protects against mental effects and sendings; I might have called that an unambiguous good, but I'd be wary of warnings you might miss, if it's interfering with your prophecies. And it protects against magical scrying, which you probably already figured out from my original question, which is also a positive except possibly in cases of emergency.

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What forms of magic might I be able to perform anyway? Is there a good alternative source of prophecies, if we assume the Powers That Be aren't going to show up for everything they might have wanted to tell me?

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The Watcher library has a number of prophecy books on file, of varying degrees of reliability. You are unlikely to be able to cast anything of your own accord, but you are not actively destructive to magic and can plausibly use magic items created by others, such as charms.

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Okay, good. Any prophecies due to be relevant any time soon that I should know about?

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Two that are unreliable enough as to be barely worth mentioning, and one that's more reliable but vague enough that it's considered 'possibly relevant' about every decade. I wouldn't schedule plans around them. But do let me know if you start seeing 'angles with fists of gold', I suppose. Or angels, to adjust for poor spelling.

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Will do.