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Summary: After a phone message is accidentally sent to Rachel’s home number, the Sineya Council invades McKinley High seeking justice for one of their own. Ie, the Scoobies take Rachel away.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > GleeJennyAnnFR1326,0085459,8968 Mar 1121 Jul 11Yes

Chapter One

Author : JennyAnn

Summary: After a phone message accidentally sent to Rachel’s home number, the Sineya Council invades McKinley High seeking justice for one of their own.

Disclaimer : Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Glee belong to people much more creative than me. My ownership of them consists only of the DVD purchases I’ve made over the years. Go pester Joss Whedon and Ryan Murphy about any other ownership rights.

Author’s Note : Honestly, I like Glee, but there are a few things that drive me nuts. The bullying, Will Schuester, Finn, and the general cruelty toward Rachel are the first ones to come to mind. The bullying is absurd, Schuester is a lousy teacher who helps a few students at the cost of the others, the Glee Club is ridiculously nasty for a group of bullied students, and Finn is a douchebag. I’m almost sorry to say that, since I know he has a lot of fans, but at best this guy is a complete idiot whose selfishness puts to shame anyone else in the show. I mean, he gets pissed that he gets cheated on, when he’s manipulated others and tried to cheat with Rachel, except he seems to suffer from premature ejac…. Rant aside (because I do understand that it’s slightly more complicated than that), I’m still waiting for someone to step up and point out that this stuff is not okay. But since television seems to promote bullying, I’m gonna have to do it.

It all went down the day after Rachel slipped in slushie after it was tossed in her face and managed to throw everything in her arms into the air before she landed on the floor. It would have ended there, but several of the kids in Glee felt it was necessary to recreate the incident in vivid, mocking detail at the beginning of rehearsal for those others unlucky enough to have missed it. Mr. Schuester ignored it as usual, noting that Rachel was quietly ignoring them and chalking it up to unavoidable teenage drama. Then when he reprimanded the star soprano for not having her music, she picked up her belongings and flew out of the room with a few silent tears on her cheeks. After a few quiet noises that could have been giggles, Santana informed him that when she fell that morning, her music sheets ended up floating in colored corn syrup. He sighed, aimed a half-hearted look of disappointment in the vague direction of the group, and made a mental note to call Rachel and apologize later.

The next morning, however, was different.

“Hey,” Santana hollered down the hallway. The other students turned to look, because the yell was in the direction of Rachel Berry’s locker, and confrontations between them made excellent gossip. But it wasn’t Rachel the Cheerio was yelling at, instead a brunette girl no one recognized shoving the contents of a locker carefully in a bag. “Hey, that’s Man Hand’s locker.”

The stranger failed to look either impressed or intimidated. “Man Hands? Really?” she scoffed before returning to what she was doing and completely dismissing the rest of them.

“Hey!” Santana repeated, grabbing the stranger and spinning her back around. Brittany stopped quietly behind her, long since used to Santana’s antics.


“That’s Man Hand’s locker.”

“Santana, it’s okay,” a familiar voice interrupted. They traced it back to the singer in question, who rushed through the crowded hallway to reach the confrontation, skidding to a stop next to the pair. “This is Dawn. She’s a friend of mine.”

“A friend of yours? You don’t have friends.”

Dawn straightened, her annoyance slipping away into something darker. Santana had already marked her as a threat, because she was gorgeous and a new piece of ass that the Neanderthals at McKinley hadn’t slobbered over yet, but the ice cold anger on her face made Santana wonder if she wasn’t a threat in more physical, violent ways as well. Rachel gulped audibly, searching for a way to diffuse the situation.

Her answer came in an unexpected and unwanted way. Karafsky and Azimio sauntered down the hallway with their daily slushies, and when they got just a little closer, the jock in the lead let the drink fly at their favorite target.

Only it didn’t quite work that way. Two figures zipped in out of nowhere, one grabbing Karafsky by his extended arm and the other slamming Azimio into the lockers. When the motion ceased, no one was prepared to see a hot, preppy-looking blonde kneeling over the downed Karafsky (one of those knees very obviously digging into his testicles) whispering into his ear while a sexy, leather-clad brunette pinned his buddy to the metal walls with one hand at his throat and the other clenching something between his legs. There was an instinctive flinch from every male present.

Santana’s jaw nearly reached her chest. “The hell?”

Any answer was interrupted by Figgins flying into the hallway. “Take your hands off them. Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Hey, Rach,” Azimio’s new best friend called out. “That your principal?”

The blonde looked up just in time to see Rachel’s hesitant nod, then turned furious green eyes on the indignant authority figure. “You don’t move,” she told him. “Once we finish handling this little disciplinary problem that you can’t seem to be bothered with, it’s your turn.”

He swallowed, years of dealing with Sue causing him to instinctively retreat when faced with an irate blonde.

“The hell, Berry.” Noah Puckerman sauntered up, clearly baffled by the sight before him and doing his best not to let it show. “Hire a bodyguard or two?”

Rachel stood a little taller, fighting against the overwhelming nerves and embarrassment. “Noah, meet Dawn, Faith, and Buffy,” she murmured with a gesture at the appropriate figures. “My father works for their organization.”

“Well, they certainly take their employees’ happiness seriously.”

Buffy and Faith were clearly finishing up with whatever they were telling the jocks that was making them look so pale and green. “Understand?” Buffy asked.

Karafsky nodded, but just laid there when Buffy released him, terrified beyond the point of moving. Azimio, on the other hand, lost control of his knees when Faith let him go, sliding to the floor in a shaken heap. Gliding gracefully to her feet, the blonde cast a satisfied glance over the two of them before grabbing a fistful of the stunned principal’s suit jacket and dragging him back to his office.

Before the crowds could dissipate, another commotion began at the other end of the hall. Mr. Schuester raised his voice, arguing with a calm, one-eyed man who ignored him as he continued wheeling the piano –a guitar and several microphones on top- from the choir room toward them and one of the handicap ramps. He paused, a goofy grin on his face. “Got everything, Rach?”


“Rachel? Do you know what’s going on? This man is stealing the Glee Club’s instruments.”

“Actually, he’s not,” Dawn interrupted. “Those were lent to the school by Rachel’s fathers, with the understanding that they would donate them upon Rachel’s graduation. We’re just reclaiming their property on their behalf.”

For someone regularly considered stupid by the people he spent time with, Puck caught on quick. “Berry? Are you leaving?”

Faith apparently found his surprise offensive. “Why wouldn’t she? Her friends and their oh-so-supportive actions?”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Oh, my god, Miss Diva. I can’t believe you went crying to your dads about yesterday.”

“She didn’t,” Faith answered. She pulled out her cell phone, continuing to speak as she hit keys searching for something. “So here we are catching up with the Berrys last night, because Hiram Berry has worked for us for a long time and Dawn, Connor, Anya, and Jordy have been looking to spend more time with Rachel. The phone rings, and we all let it go to the answering machine because we can’t imagine that anyone would be calling with news worth interrupting our night. Then we hear this.”

She turned her phone to face the speaker toward the thinning crowd (by now other teachers had shown and were moving the gawking students toward their appropriate classes), and Will Schuester was horrified to hear his voice pouring out.

“Rachel, this is Mr. Schue. Listen, the rest of the kids told me about your sheet music being ruined when that slushie was poured on you this morning, so I’m sorry I reprimanded you for not having it. You really should have told me instead of just running off. I know some of the kids were making a couple of jokes about it, but I expected more maturity from you. You can’t just run away everything something upsets you or the team makes a joke. Come see me tomorrow and we’ll get you some new copies.”

Rachel looked horrified and ill, and her new friends just looked pissed. “She tried to tell us it was a joke, some sort of light-hearted hazing, but Xander here has enough experience handling bullies that he saw through the ruse.” Faith passed a comforting hand over Rachel’s hair as Dawn spoke. “Of course, those bullies were actually, you know, held accountable for their actions.”

“We do the best we—“

“Save it for someone who doesn’t know better,” Dawn interrupted, getting right in the face of the authority figure she was still young enough she should be cowed by. “Rachel’s a lousy liar. Every time she tried to cover for your ineptitude, she accidentally let something else slip. Slushies, pee balloons, pornographic pictures on the bathroom walls, nasty nicknames, mockery…”

“You have blatant evidence that Rachel is being stalked and sexually harassed by one kid,” Xander chimed in, pointing out one of the things that infuriated him, “that she has repeated filed reports against, and nothing has been done about it. In fact, he’s being fed more info by people who are supposed to be her friends.”

Puck frowned, disgusted at this new information among other things. “I haven’t seen Jew-Fro this morning.”

“That’s because we had him arrested.”

Mr. Schue tried again, allowing his embarrassment and guilt try to pin the blame elsewhere. “Now, I’m not saying Rachel is a liar, but she does have a very dramatic personality and you’re getting all your information from her when she’s upset.”

He should have stayed quiet.

“Actually, we got most of it from MySpace and Facebook,” Dawn informed him. “And did you really just try to defend a pervert who stole her underwear and took pictures up her skirt, over your own student?”

“I didn’t know,” he stammered. “She never came to me about it.”

“Well, why would she? You know, people actually posted pictures of Rachel being bullied?” The protective brunette waited long enough for the Spanish teacher to shake his head. “No? Well, you’re in some of them. She was bullied right in front of you, and you never noticed. Why would she think she could come to you for help with anything?”

For the first time, Will had no answer.

Xander grabbed Rachel by the hand with the excuse of getting the rest of her stuff, like her toiletries from the bathrooms, and with a disgusted shake of her head at the group in front of her, Dawn went back to clearing out Rachel’s locker. Faith stepped forward. “See, the thing is, Teach, we’ve already figured out that you’re, at the very least, crazy ignorant when it comes to the twerps. More likely, you’re one of them. A no-talent loser that’s never getting out of this town and feel like you have to drag her down to make you feel better about the high point of your entire eff-ing life being this singing thing and that’s only if she’s there. You’re petty and vindictive and just wastes of air and spit. You need Rach, and you shits can’t handle that, so you punish her for it.”

“She’s exactly not innocent,” Kurt insisted, violently red at the not entirely inaccurate characterization of their club. “She sent Sunshine to that crack house.”

“Yeah, and where would she learn to act like that, catsuit boy? Where do you think she got the idea to sabotage her competition through cruelty, like giving her a makeover to scare off a boy she had the nerve to like? She screwed up big time, but unlike the rest of you, she’s done her best to make up for it. And you’ve certainly punished her enough for it.” Dawn’s reply pretty much shut up any more protests, just in time for Buffy to come back from Figgin’s office, leaving a weeping principal behind her. “You tell him?”

The gorgeous blonde smiled, a predatory expression that left no doubt to her ruthlessness. “What? That as an American dignitary, I’ve gone ahead and initiated a federal investigation that already has enough evidence to replace pretty much everyone involved in this joke of an educational institution from the school board to the janitors? Yeah, I may have mentioned it.”

Dawn closed the empty locker, tossing the bag over her shoulder and preparing to push the piano. “All done. The truck is this way. Willow’s already collected the Berry contributions to the theater department.”

“All right, let’s blow this joint.” Buffy tossed a brilliant smile in their direction, while Faith slipped a piece of paper with Rachel’s new contact info to Puck as requested. “Have a nice day.”

So, yeah. I just had to get this out of my system. This is the first piece of work I’ve ever posted straight after writing, so please forgive the (numerous, I’m sure) mistakes. Don’t take this too seriously; I know perfectly well that the Glee folks have a couple decent qualities. I wanted to try a Glee/BtVS crossover where they were connected through Rachel’s dads unexplored lives, so I decided that Hiram Berry is really a watcher, kicked out when the old council discovered he was gay and asked to come back by the significantly more LGBT-friendly new council. I’ll probably leave this as a one-shot, though there is the very (very) slim possibility that I’ll add a second chapter detailing the obligatory ‘Rachel come back’ episode where they see how they should treat people. Hope you enjoyed!
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