"Miss Kennedy, contemplate a battle against a vampire with you mounted on your bicycle. Or your skateboard or your ice skates. I've taught you to swim... because you never know when a battle will end up in the water."She sat fuming. "And I'm just supposed to supinely let you guide me in all of this? Following by rote anything you try to teach me?" That, Miss Kennedy, is what students do." And yet, there you sit, wondering why Slayers always die! Tell me, Mr. Smarty-pants-Glastonbury, why do you. I continued to shake as I put the key in the door, grabbed my suitcase on wheels and walked in. Beyond the door, the hallway was short. There was a door to the bathroom on the left and a small wetbar on the right. Alan already filled a bucked with ice. There was a large bottom of rum and soda sitting on top. When I shut the door to the room, I noticed a small closet. I left my suitcase there. I walked deeper into the room and found an oversized king bed, balcony doors, and a dresser with a TV. More

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