In a Corner of My Soul: Angel: Gang Colors

[dragonyphoenix]

Summary: Rewrite of season 1 with Giles as the Big Bad.
Note: Many thanks to Gill O for Brit-picking this chapter. She put in far more effort than I had any right to expect and I truly appreciate it.
Note: Thanks to Gill O and Il Mio Capitano for help with terms Giles might use for a police officer.
Note: Since it's been months since I posted, catch-up / header notes can be read at AO3
Master List for In a Corner of My Soul

Willow, for the third time, reviewed the books she'd pulled out for first period. Should she bring two notebooks? She probably wouldn't even use one, but what if she had an idea but didn't have the right notebook to write it down in and lost it forever? As she reached into her locker, a hand darted out and grabbed her wrist. “Xander!”

“Put the books back.”

“But …”

“Willow, we're going to the auditorium. You know, big announcement, new principal, no class this period.”

“But what if there's nothing to do? What if they get started late? Are we supposed to just sit there and do nothing?”

“Yes! That's the whole purpose of auditorium. You schmooze. You snooze. You don't study. Isn't that right Buffy?”

As Willow turned and gave Buffy a little wave, Xander grabbed her books and shoved them into her locker. “Hey!”

“Hi guys, what's up?” Buffy glanced between the two of them. “You're bookless. Why are you bookless? Better yet, why am I not?”

Willow pointed. “See, Buffy's got her textbook and her notebook too.”

“Because we have class,” Buffy replied as if stating the obvious. “You know, that place we go to learn?”

“Or in my case, pretend to,” Xander said.

“Oh, didn't you hear?” Willow asked. “Next period is canceled. We're meeting the new principal. Wait, how did you not hear? It was announced during homeroom. Were you late? What's wrong? Why were you late?”

“No lateness, just meditating in the library instead of being in a homeroom I could actually enjoy. I probably just fell asleep and missed it. Meditating that early? So not my thing. Actually, meditating anytime, so not my thing.”

“Let me take those off your hands.” Xander stuffed Buffy's books into Willow's locker and swung the door shut.

Buffy grinned. “No class. Nice. So, what do we know about this new guy?”

“His name's Snyder,” Willow said. “That's about it.”

“I hear he used to be a prison warden.”

“Xander!”

“Hey, that's what I heard. He was too heavy on discipline for the California penal system and so they made him a high-school principal instead.”

Buffy laughed as they joined the crowd heading down the hall. “You made that up.”

“No, really, I got it from Ted Davis who probably made it up or maybe hallucinated it.”

“Hallucinated?”

“He's a big stoner,” Willow replied.

“Well,” Buffy shrugged. “How bad can he actually be?”

They took seats about a third of the way into the auditorium. “Do we have to sit this close to Cordelia?” Willow asked. “We can probably hear her from here and I sort of prefer not to.”

“What?” Xander's look said Willow was nuts. “She's like three rows up.”

“Two rows and anyway, I like sitting closer to the front.”

The lights dimmed over the seats and brightened on the stage. “Too late to move now,” Buffy whispered.

A short, balding man strode to the podium. “Nice suit,” Cordelia snickered. Willow glared at Xander who shrugged back.

The man waved toward the wings as if calling someone out to join him. Miss Mansfield scuttled over. “Can't we illuminate the seats?” he asked. “If one of those hoodlums pulls a gun on me …” Feedback squelched through the room as Miss Mansfield's hand shot out and covered the microphone.

A bunch of the students started hooting at the stage. “We can hear you.” Someone made a rat-a-tat-tat noise as if firing a machine gun.

The man squinted at the crowd.

“With that lighting, he can't see us, right?” Buffy asked.

He and Miss Mansfield seemed to be having quite the energetic conversation. Throwing her hands in the air, the secretary bolted off the stage. The lighting didn't change but the man started speaking anyway.

“As you thugs may have heard, I am your new principal. You will address me as Principal Snyder. I understand my predecessor wanted to make this school a pleasant experience for you. He wanted to be your friend. Well, that's the kind of liberal, messy thinking that gets people eaten. I do not want to be your friend. The purpose of school is to instill discipline, and that's what I intend to do. If you have a problem with my policies, well, don't because I don't want to hear it.”

Principal Snyder slowly turned his head as if he were scanning the student body. But school's supposed to be about knowledge and learning, Willow thought. He stopped and seemed to be glaring directly at her. Or discipline, that's good too.

Xander, and how could he be ignoring the principal like that, wagged a finger at Buffy. “No more burning down gymnasiums for you, missy.”

“It has come to my attention that Sunnydale is rife with violence: gangs on PCP, drugs hidden in lockers, smoking in bathrooms. This will stop on my watch. From now on, gang colors will be prohibited on campus. You may no longer wear the following: blue, black, green, brown, or purple. Oh, and red accessories are also unwelcome in my school. That will be all.”

The lights rose as he strode off the stage. Cordelia's voice, complaining of course, carried throughout the room but Snyder didn't seem to notice. “I know he didn't say black. How can he expect me to not wear black? It's the most slimming color.”

“And purple,” Harmony moaned. “I just bought the cutest purple blouse.”

“Harmony,” Cordelia interrupted. “What did I say about purple?”

“Uh, that it's slimming?”

“That it's meant for royalty. Who's the queen?”

“You are.”

“Who gets to wear purple?”

“Nobody apparently.”

“We'll just see about that.”

“Okay,” Buffy said. “That was odd.”

“And you two mocked my theory that he used to be a prison warden.”

“You know you can't wear blue jeans anymore, right?” Willow replied.

“What?”

“That's true,” Buffy agreed. “According to the new warden, blue's right out.”

“He's a principal, not a warden,” Willow said.

“In this case, I'm not so sure there's a difference.”