The wind rushed past the crowds of people as it swept over the streets of southern Los Angeles. From the shade of a coffee shop's awning, Carrie regarded every passing person with suspicion. With what little she had to go on, they were all suspects, as far as she was concerned. She could have passed Isabel's kidnappers ten times today and never known, and the uncertainty was a constant gnawing at the back of her skull. Absentmindedly, she lifted her coffee to her lips, flinching as it burned her. Cursing herself, her attention was grabbed by footsteps behind her, coming closer until they came to a stop.
"Rough night?"
Vincent.
A hoarse voice slipped through her lips. "You know goddamn well what kinda night I had."
"Didn't find them, I take it."
Carrie turned around to face him. "At least I've been trying."
Vincent sighed. "Why do you think wandering the streets of L.A. at night is going to lead you to Isabel? More likely to get you snatched up yourself."
"I can handle myself. And I haven't just been wandering, I've been asking around. Talking to local… groups."
A slight glare formed in his eyes. "Really alleviating my fears here, Carrie." He looked away a moment, groaning in frustration. "Honestly, this is just irresponsible. What if you'd been hurt? I guarantee you, a taser to the chest won't care if you can 'handle yourself'."
Carrie's face swiftly shifted from anger to intrigue. "They used a taser?"
"Were you listening to any of what I just said?"
"Yeah. Did they use a taser?" she demanded.
"Sure looked like it, why?"
Carrie had stopped listening by then. She turned and moved away from him, headed towards the street. Vincent kept behind her, speeding up as she started walking briskly away.
"Are you gonna let me in on whatever you're Sherlocking?" he said, running up beside her.
"Well," she said, not slowing down, "They're criminals. If they have a taser, do you think they want it on a registry?"
"Probably not?"
Carrie swung her hand in circles in front of her as she explained. "If you're gonna be doing crimes with something, you really don't want it traced back to you. So what do you do?"
"Get it illegally?"
"See? You do have one or two brain cells in there," she said. "And I happen to know a guy who works for the best suppliers of unregistered gear in the city."
Vincent ran in front of where she was walking, stopping her dead in her tracks. "Carrie, listen to me. You don't want to mingle with gangsters. There must be something else we can do."
"Would you relax? They don't sell guns or anything, and this guy is fine, promise."
He didn't budge. "Even if he is, this isn't something you wanna get caught up in."
"I'm not 'caught up' in anything! I know a few people." She took a resolute step towards him, getting uncomfortably close. "You don't know jack about my life, man!"
"Does anyone?" Vincent snapped.
"Nobody who's here right now," she replied, quieter than before.
A silence came over the two, deafening to the both of them even as the sounds of cars roared and the flood of people continued rushing past. For a brief moment, it seemed as though time had stopped.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Carrie turned her eyes towards the ground. "Yeah," she muttered.
Without another word, she walked around him and further down the street.
"If you're really gonna do this, I'm coming too."
Carrie didn't react.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'."
They walked in silence from there.
"A gun, Wes!?"
Fred had turned to face Wesley, uncorked emotions rushing to the surface.
He flinched. "What?"
"You brought a gun here," she stated, incredulous.
"We were walking into a potentially very dangerous situation."
"We're dealing with humans, Wes! Not some… ferocious beast or... demon from another dimension. Someone could have been killed!"
His eyes widened, betraying offense. "I brought it as a security measure," he said.
"Really? You sure did start pointing it at Leon pretty quick."
"Angel told us what he was capable of. He's a dangerous man."
"And that justifies threatening murder!?"
He had no response to that.
They stood, staring at each other until their attention was caught by footsteps headed towards them from the side. They turned to find Faith and Gunn, whose faces grew uncertain as they got closer to the pair.
"Did we come at a bad time?" Gunn asked.
"No," said Fred, "We're done here."
His eyes followed her as she passed him. "Woah, what's going on between you two?" He turned to Wesley. "Something happen in the apartment?"
Wesley remained where Fred had left him, staring into the middle distance.
"We met Leon," he said.
"The wizard dude?" Gunn asked, incredulous.
"Are you ok?" it came from Faith.
"Warlock, and yes, for the most part. He let us go."
Faith furrowed her brow. "And now he's…" she gestured for Wesley to finish the sentence.
"Still in the apartment."
She lit up. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's go get him!"
She was in the middle of turning on her heel towards the building when Fred stopped her.
"That's… probably not the smartest idea," she said, her tone much lower than usual.
Wesley took a step forward towards Faith. "We can't fight him. Not like this."
"What else are we supposed to do?" she exclaimed. "He's right there! If anyone can get us to Isabel, it's him."
He sighed. "He doesn't seem the aggressive type, but I don't think he'll hesitate to defend himself, and his magic is more powerful than any of us. We're going to need a different strategy."
Fred cleared her throat and the other three turned towards her.
"I took this from the apartment," she said, revealing the small floral-patterned book that had been lying on the living room shelf. "It looked important."
"Can I see it?" asked Faith.
Fred handed it to her, and she started flipping through the first pages.
"What is it?" Wesley asked.
"It's a bunch of notes. Notes on… demons and monsters, weaknesses, ways to fight them. It's thorough stuff."
Gunn was looking over her shoulder. "Nice handwriting," he commented.
She was too deep in reading to hear him.
She back door opened slowly into the courtyard, and the face of young, wild-haired man cautiously appeared. His nervous look quickly turned to a smile when he saw Carrie greeting him with a dainty finger flutter.
"Well, well. Seems I have a lady over. And mom said I'd never see the day," he chuckled.
"Hey, Sam," she said.
Sam opened the door fully and stepped out into the courtyard. The height difference between the two became very apparent once he wasn't leaning out the door, him towering above her by almost two heads.
"What can I do ya' for?" he asked.
Carrie sat down in front of him on a stubby brick wall enclosing a bit of garden. "I just need to… ask you a couple things."
"I'm getting nervous," he said. "I like you, Carrie, but I can only tell you so much. What's on your mind?"
"I'm looking for someone with a taser. It wouldn't surprise me if they got it from your contacts."
He chuckled lightly and crossed his arms. "That's… gonna be a no go. If I go around exposing their customers, my career won't last into next week."
"It's about Isabel," she said.
He froze up a moment. "Izzy's in trouble?"
She nodded.
"What happened?" he said, concerned.
Carrie stared into the middle distance, not answering. From his station by the wall a few meters away, Vincent stepped forward.
"She was taken. By somebody your suppliers helped out, I reckon," he said.
Sam turned around. His gaze met Vincent's, and they stared at each other with cold eyes. "Who'd you bring?" he asked, looking back at Carrie.
She walked up to stand next to him. "That's Vincent. He works at the shelter with Anne. Good dude, I promise."
Sam looked at him skeptically, then sighed. "If I help you, will you keep your goddamn mouth shut about it?"
"I promise," she said.
He shook his head. "Man I ain't happy about this, but I can't avoid it, if you aren't taking me for a ride."
"I wouldn't. Not about this," Carrie said.
"I know," he said and walked inside, gesturing for her to follow him.
She held out a finger to Vincent. Understanding her, he stopped his approach.
The place was a complete mess. Filling the entranceway were a mismatch of clothes, and in every socket were charger cables leading to nothing. Carrie stepped carefully as she moved towards the office where Sam had headed, nearly stumbling over the items strewn about. He sat in the middle of the small, equally messy office, clicking through windows on his computer. He seemed to hear her come in, but didn't look at her.
"We keep tabs on every buyer through two levels of security," he said. "There's an alias for each, so the rookies can keep track of the deals, and then the real names we've encrypted."
She nodded.
"Let me see…" he typed something with a speed she found almost inhuman, then pulled up a new window. "You're in luck. We've only sold one taser this past month. To a 'Silver Bullet'."
"I don't think the fun spy names will get me very far."
"I know, gimme a sec." He bit his lip as he typed now, every stroke seeming reluctant, and slower than before. He stopped.
"You got it?"
"Yeah." He sighed. "You gotta keep this quiet, okay? Doing this could ruin me if anyone gets wind."
"Cross my heart, man. Nobody's gonna know."
He gave her a few small nods, then spoke. "I don't recognise the name, but it's here. Nasima Farmand, a young local woman, I'd guess someone Mattheo knows." He clicked a few times, and the printer beside him sprung to life. When it was done, he handed her the paper. it carried the name and a picture, but nothing else.
"Fold that up and hide it. If you show that to anyone, I'm at risk."
She did as requested. "Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I have a much better shot at finding Isabel now."
"Just… don't get yourself in any trouble now, okay?"
She eyed him. "You know I can't promise that."
"Alright. Then be out of here before anyone sees you."
She turned and walked out of the office.
"Should we be headed back?" Fred said, but Faith didn't stop her frantic rifling through the pages of the notebook.
"I just…" she trailed off. Then she reached it.
Gunn's eyes widened.
She read it. Then she read it again. Her eyes jumped back and forth, searching for something they never found. She braced herself.
"Slayer," she read, "Human with a demonic presence infused to their soul through ancient dark magic. Exhibit traits such as superhuman strength, a fast rate of physical healing, and magical visions. Not evil, but highly dangerous, often aggressive."
"Oh my god," Fred muttered.
Faith stopped. Her eyes glazed over, then refocused. She sighed. "Likely curable with magic. Avoid killing."
Their eyes turned from the book to her.
"To be purified."
You could hear a pin drop on the street where they stood, but there was only the wind.