Waiting at a stop light on top of a hill, an exhausted but triumphant smile on her face, Laure looked into the distance at the gleaming towers and spires of Ho State University.

And the billowing clouds of black smoke that surrounded them.

The smile disappeared, replaced by horror.

"All I told them NOT to do was burn the place down," she muttered and floored the Jag through the barely turning green light.

Five minutes later, choking on the noxious smoke being pulled into the car through the vents--open since she couldn't make out a word of the arcane instructions for her new car and didn't know how to shut them off--Laure parked behind a fire engine and slid from behind the wheel.

Waving the smoke out of her face, she gazed admiringly at the several sooty firemen using long, powerful hoses to spray water over what looked to be a garage. Very glad that she hadn't arrived earlier and parked in said garage, Laure strode determinedly towards what a sign proclaimed was the administration building. A small group of women were sitting on folding lawn chairs drinking fruity beverages and watching the firemen.

"Excuse me?" Laure asked the woman pouring drinks. "Can you tell me where the dean's office is? I have an appointment."

"Don't you want to know why the garage is on fire?" Judy asked, handing Laure a drink.

Laure sighed. "Not particularly."

"You must be our new mediator." Judy laughed. "Good luck. Caeryn's office is inside, turn right, then left, big sign on the door."

Laure took a sip of her drink, then wrinkled her nose as a disgusting smell filled the air with a changing of the breeze. "Why does it smell like burned skunk?"

"That would be due to the now dead and crispy ewoks Cal tried to use as a fire extinguisher. I'm Julia, this is Sere, Brenda and Jael. Judy's the one with the booze. Welcome to the nut house." Julia grinned gleefully, then took the telephoto lense that Sere held out to her and returned to the business of capturing the firemen on film.

"Of course. Ewoks as fire extinguishers. It should have been obvious. And Cal would be?"

Jael adjusted her skin tight armor and tried to breathe. "Our padawannabe."

"He tries. He usually fails," Brenda added, a tiara gleaming at a jaunty angle on her head.

"Thanks." Taking a big gulp of her drink and handing the glass back to Judy, Laure entered the building. A rather smarmy man in spotless early nineteenth century black velvet breeches, cutaway coat, crisp, white cravat to his chin offered to fetch her luggage and take it to her room. At her nod and thanks, he thwapped the head of what she had assumed was some hideous lump of dirty laundry and fired orders at him/it.

Shaking her head slightly, Laure headed down the hall, easily finding the dean's office.

Unfortunately, the dean was nowhere to be found. There was a sign on the door that read 'Gone Testing The Other General. Back at Some Point'.

"Lovely."

As she stood there debating over her next move, a woman wearing a 'Kiss the Librarian' t-shirt stalked down the hall towards then past her muttering under her breath. "I just know Darry's going to blame me for the fire and I'll never get another EA." She clutched a battered cell phone in one hand and a multi-pack of 'D' batteries in the other

Laure watched her disappear around the corner, then, from the other direction came a familiar voice yelling "Why are there fire trucks outside?" Following the voice, Laure quickly found herself outside the Clinic just as two half-dressed figures fled through the door. Laure did a double take at the male figure, then shook her head and stepped inside the room.

Darry stood in the middle of her no longer immaculate clinic, watching bits of paper fall from a shredder into a clear trash can. She looked...frazzled.

Laure gaped. "You're wearing a wrinkled dress. I've never seen you in a wrinkled dress before."

Darry turned, flipping her hair in frustration. "Nice greeting. What the Hell took you so long? You were supposed to be here yesterday."

"Spike fried my car with a railroad spike. I left half a dozen messages on your answering machine." Laure gazed around the horrendously decorated room and blanched. "Have you...developed a sudden love of boy bands?"

Snorting, Darry embraced her best friend. "We really, desperately need you or someone is going to end up bleeding really badly."

"So, I see. I couldn't find the dean. Is The General around?"

"Road trip with the freshmen. Lost in Texas somewhere, the last I heard."

Sighing at the depressing thought of no General to welcome her, Laure went over to peek out the window. "The garage is on fire, by the way."

"For once I'm glad I parked behind the building." Darry joined her friend at the window.

"Not much of a view of the firemen from here." Laure craned her neck, trying to see around a very large bush.

"Your office is on the second floor facing that way, come on."

Darry led the way and, as they walked down the second floor hallway, the muted sounds of old Duran Duran reached their ears.

"Who listens to Duran Duran?"

"That would be Dande...and Diebin." Darry shuddered.

"The gal in the catsuit from the Winter Holiday party photo?"

"She's...it's really horrible. She's becoming a wench. She got a perm and has a bow in her hair," Darry hissed in horror.

Laure's eyebrows went up and she thought that maybe she should have skipped that vacation with Spike--Seven Days/Seven Nights in the Trendiest Sewer in Sunnydale--and shown up the week before.

Opening a door, Darry ushered the new mediator into her spacious office full of modern, eclectic furniture and decorated with copies of pre-Raphaelite art, and a very handsome marble bust of a man. Laure nodded in approval and ran her hand over the back of her aubergine leather couch.

Then she sneezed. "Why is my very expensive couch covered in orange fur."

"Tiger."

Rolling her eyes, Laure joined Darry at the window to watch the firemen. They seemed to be wrapping up the actual fire fighting and half of them were stripped down to their cute bulky pants and sweaty white tank tops. The two watched them for a while, then Laure turned to look around her office again and saw that her desk was covered with photographs.

She examined each one, her eyebrows rising higher and higher as she moved from picture to picture. At the sight of Emmy with purple eyebrows, Laure sighed and sank down into her ergonomic black leather chair. "I can see this job is going to take all my skills as a mediator...and a lot of alcohol."

Darry smirked and opened a desk drawer, pulling out a date book. "Yeah, you're gonna need your first appointment, too."

Laure glanced down at the name written in red for an appointment in five minutes. "RB?"

"Rat Bastard."

"And what am I supposed to help Mister Bastard with?"

Darry just grinned wickedly and headed for the door. "I gotta go find Vocab Man. He got away without removing something from my closet. Your bedroom is through there." She pointed to the door next to the gas fireplace with the...was that a REAL Adam mantel supported by caryatids? "Have fun."

Giving her best friend's back and the closing door a perplexed look, Laure began to untape the pictures from the top of her black marble desk, frowning at the horrific scenes depicted on the colored glossies. "These hos really need help."

A knock came on the door and Laure looked up. "Come in."

There were odd clanking noises and the door opened. A suit of armor walked into the office, closing the door behind itself. The visor was shoved up and Laure drowned in a beautiful pair of hazel eyes.

"Oh, my..."

"Lady," the armor murmured in a voice like rich velvet.

Laure grinned. Maybe this job wouldn't be so bad...

End