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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.
"Are you really sure about this, Buffy?" asked Giles, looking out of his apartment window at the Cleveland skyline.
"Look, you're the one who encouraged me to get back into college and work for a teaching qualification, and if I say so myself I've done pretty well. But I need some practical experience and so does Willow. We both need at least a semester working in a school."
"But why in Britain?"
"Don't know if you've noticed, Giles, but Sunnydale has kinda an odd reputation in American educational circles. You tell people you've no teaching experience but went to school or college there, they're not too anxious to trust you. But if we can get some experience somewhere else things'll be a lot easier."
"That's right," said Willow. "Besides, it'll give me a chance to visit the coven, get some quality time with them."
"They're really short of teachers in Britain right now," said Buffy, "That's why it's so good, the teaching agency pays for our travel and accommodation, even pays us wages. It's only April through to the end of July, not that big a deal."
"Well, I suppose that if you're determined I shouldn't stand in your way. Things are quiet her at the moment, and it might be a good idea to give some of the other girls more responsibility. What about Kennedy and Dawn though?"
"To be honest, I was kinda hoping that Dawn could stay with you while we're away. You're actually closer to the high school than I am, and you've got that big spare room."
"The big spare room filled with my books and personal belongings, some of priceless antiquarian value, that I only rescued from Sunnydale by the skin of my teeth?"
"Sure. It's about time you got them organised, Dawn can give you a hand."
"Buffy, are you serious?"
"Sure, it'll be good for you. Besides, think how much it'll help me..."
"No... Definitely no... Oh dear lord, do stop pouting... Please... Oh, very well. But if she breaks anything it comes out of her allowance."
"That's great, Giles," said Buffy, hugging him.
"I still need to breathe, Buffy, so please stop breaking my ribs."
"I'll live. What about Kennedy, Willow?"
"Her family has an apartment in London," said Willow, "She was thinking of borrowing it and living there for a few months so that we can get some time together. And of course it'll give us a great place to stay when we hit London for shopping."
"You won't be teaching in London?"
"The agency says most of their vacancies are in provincial private schools, or small public schools, which they say is like private schools only higher class, but either way it'll probably be a boarding school way out in the country. They've promised that we'll go to the same school, so that'll be cool."
"Well, it does sound reasonably pleasant, I suppose. When will you be given the details?"
"Could be any time now. Reminds me, I should check for mail. Okay if I plug my laptop in?"
"Of course, Willow. After all, you arranged to put in the internet connection, it would be pointless not to use it."
"Don't worry, once Dawn is here it'll be seeing plenty of use."
"So long as she doesn't tamper with any dark forces."
"Sheesh, you let one tiny demon escape into the internet... Here we are, mail from Searle's Academic Agency, London. Let's see 'Miss Rosenberg, I'm pleased to confirm that we have been able to arrange places for both yourself and Miss Summers at the same school. In view of the lateness of your application only one school could be found with two suitable places, but I hope that you will find it satisfactory. As discussed you will be teaching science and information technology, Miss Summers will be assisting with sports and physical training. Since the school in question is anxious to fill these posts we have been able to arrange for payment on the band normally reserved for newly qualified teachers, paying approximately $250 per week each after tax. Accommodation and all meals will be provided by the school.'"
"That's very generous for student teachers," said Giles.
"Shush. 'Please note that teachers are expected to participate in sports and other activities on at least one weekend in three.' That isn't so good... I guess it's part of being a boarding school. What else do they say? Umm.. 'On acceptance transport will be arranged; we would expect you to travel during the week of 2nd-5th April, returning to the USA after July 20th. The work permits normally available will allow you to stay in Britain until the end of September, should you wish to remain in Britain for a longer period. We trust that these arrangements blah blah blah' That's odd, they don't actually name the school."
"Are you sure?" said Buffy, "That seems a little strange."
"Oh, it's okay, there's a link to the school's web site. Here we go. Hmm, I wonder how you pronounce that. Giles?"
"The name of this school is kinda odd, what do you make of it?"
"Let's see. Hmm... Oh dear lord. What have you done?" He sat, hard, and took off his glasses and began to clean them furiously.
"It's not that hard, surely. Let's see... Saint Trinian's. That sound right to you, Buffy?"
"Sure. Buffy and Willow, the new American teachers at Saint Trinian's. It has a nice ring to it. Giles, are you okay? Giles?"
"I think he's kinda gasping here, Buffy, get him a glass of water."
On the computer screen, unnoticed, the page had scrolled to the school song:
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
- Sidney Gilliat (to a tune by Malcolm Arnold)
Author's note: This story is based on the St. Trinian's books and cartoons by the late Ronald Searle, with occasional references to the (somewhat less harsh) films that have been made of them. The title comes from School Hymn for St. Trinian's by Robert Graves.
For a good web reference to these stories see users.netmatters.co.uk/ju90/ron.htm