Who: Beth Holden and Davan Collins What: Study Hall: 101 Ways To Be A Better Slayer When: Week Four, Day Three Where: Beth's favorite conference room, ground floor
Beth had several things spread out in front of her, including a stack of notebooks with color-coded covers, two empty coffee cups, an empty cardboard six-pack carrier, two meals' worth of Chinese take-out cartons, and a pile of books as high as her head.
She was studying; tired of waiting and watching and hoping for her dreams to stop, get better, or explain themselves, she'd gone to see Elena, because Elena was the only Watcher available. After they'd talked, she'd given Beth a list of recommended readings, and so Beth had gone to the library, pulled up every book, portfolio, and document on the list, piled it on a cart, and checked it all out.
Now, she was sitting with her laptop in her lap, poking through a translation of something in the book she was reading, and swearing in the two languages that she was fluent in that she'd never actually bothered to learn Latin. Of course, Latin wasn't exactly one of the languages you could learn from Rosetta Stone, but still, there had to be an easier way than going online every two seconds to translate something word for word.
It also didn't help that she was angry, frustrated, simmering, and short-tempered. The dreams had been interfering with her sleep for nearly a month now, which is why she'd taken matters into her own hands. But a few hours of sleep a night before waking up and not going back to sleep had taken its toll on Beth, and she was honestly ready to break someone's face for breathing in her general direction.
But she was careful of the books, treating them with great care and not slamming them around like she desperately wanted to do. Angel had even forbidden her from mixing it up with Spike, which was the real disappointment. Something about the thought of punching the smug bastard so hard his nose cracked was so pleasing to her she couldn't stand it.
So instead she threw herself into the reading, trying to figure out what in the hell she was dreaming about and why it was so damned unsettling. Music was nothing but a distraction that added to her headaches, and so radio was turned off and Beth was surrounded by silence. At least until she heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and slowing outside her door. "If you're not a fluent Latin speaker, just keep walking," she said, back to the door as she rubbed the heels of her hands over her eyes.