The Willow Files: Volume 1: Volume 1

Chapter 1

"Oh," Buffy said. "Great. A book."

Willow Rosenberg looked over from her position in front of one of the scanners and smiled when she saw the disappointed expression on her friend's face. Buffy Summers pulled an oversized, ancient-looking book from the crate she'd just pried open and idly traced the carving on its leather cover. Jenny Calendar, the new computer science teacher, had set up several computers and scanners throughout the library. They were a jarring contrast to what Willow had always felt was the old-world charm of the book-filled room.

"I haven't gone through the new arrivals," Rupert Giles told Buffy. He gestured toward where Willow stood. "Put it in that pile -- "

"Here, I've got it." Dave, a shy, bookish kid with thick blond hair, took the book from Buffy and headed back to his terminal. Next to him, a boy named Fritz worked diligently. Fritz was big and sturdily-built with short hair, the opposite of Dave. But like Willow, both were whizzes in the computer world.

"Thanks, Dave." Buffy grinned. "The Willow pile."

"After I've examined it," Giles said absently, "you can, uh...skim it in."

"Scan it, Rupert. Scan it."

The door to the library closed behind Ms. Calendar as she strode in and Willow had to hide her smile at the flustered set to Giles's jaw. If Fritz and Dave were different, then Ms. Calendar and Giles had to be polar opposites, literally repelling each other. Where Giles was like the library, old-world and rather charming despite the tweed-saturation level, Ms. Calendar was young and hip. She might have been thirty, but her hair was dark and cut short, and the way she dressed was a slightly more modest version of the rest of the girls in school.

"Of course," Giles said. His tone was filled with stiff British courtesy, but Willow thought she could hear a touch of venom around the edges.

Ms. Calendar, however, was not put off. "I know our ways are strange to you," she said as she regarded the librarian with patient amusement, "but soon you will join us in the twentieth century...with several years to spare!"

"Ms. Calendar," Giles said archly, "I happen to believe that one can function in modern society without being a slave to the idiot box."