A/N: One more chapter after this! If the summary didn't make it clear, this story is meant to slot right into canon. So... please adjust your expectations of how it might end accordingly.

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Spike followed her gaze to where a pair of hulking, pale blue demons in dapper charcoal tuxes were mounting the stairs. Behind them was the most elegant woman she had ever seen, draped in a gown of azure silk that accentuated her assets in a way that made Buffy feel a little shivery. The fact that she was a demon, well over eight feet tall, with lavender skin and delicate silver horns spiraling out of her upswept and perfectly-coiffed ebony hair, didn't diminish Buffy's admiration one bit.

"Whoa," she said, a little breathlessly.

Spike seemed to share her assessment. If he'd been a cartoon character, Buffy was pretty sure his tongue would be lolling on the ground and his eyes the size of dinner plates.

"Wait here," he said, and coughed to clear the catch in his voice. "And no, they're not the ones we're after," he added when she made to protest. "I'm gonna go chat them up, see if our target's inside. Doubt they'll tell me much with the Slayer at my side."

"Yeah, that's all you're after, information," Buffy muttered as Spike prowled across the street towards the trio, the roll of his hips and the wicked smile on his face almost pornographic.

The bruisers moved to block him, a solid wall of muscle that towered over his head. Spike took no notice of them, speaking to the lady in low words that Buffy couldn't hear. The lady laughed, rich and throaty, and her bodyguards stepped aside to allow him to light her cigarette for her. He had to reach way up, but he managed to look graceful and rakish all the same, and Buffy was impressed in spite of herself. There was no question in her mind that despite his ridiculous reject-punk attire, snappy-dressed pencil-thin mustache Spike had definitely existed at some point in the past.

Her admiration waned as Spike's supposed intel-gathering mission went on and on and on, leaving her bored and restless in the shadows. She was about ready to march over there, fed up with being left out, when Spike took the lady demon's hand and kissed the back of it. She inclined her head in regal acknowledgement, and then she floated down the street, guards flanking her. A limousine pulled around the corner in front of her and she climbed in, flashing a long, shapely leg before disappearing into its darkened recesses.

Spike watched the limo drive off before swaggering back over to Buffy.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Proud of yourself, are you?"

He sniffed. "Got the info, didn't I?"

"Sorry, I was too busy being grossed out by your slimy faux-charm act to listen to your little tete-a-tete." Not that she'd been able to hear a word they'd said, no matter how hard she'd strained her ears.

Spike just smiled at her, smug and indulgent, until she said through gritted teeth, "What did you find out?"

"Where the lady will be later tonight." His expression turned even more smug.

"Bully for you. What useful information did you find out? About Tenobit?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, he's down there. Got a few others at his table. Two bodyguards, a slave, and a couple guests. Not sure who they are."

"Slave?"

"These types always have a slave with them. Usually a low-ranking demon of their court."

"So I don't have to worry about a rescue mission."

He shrugged. Not that she'd really been asking him; Buffy had been more thinking out loud to herself. It made for four targets with typical demonic fighting prowess, at least according to what Spike had told her as they'd walked. The guests were an unknown quantity. And that was assuming no other patrons left at the same time as they did.

"Any idea how much longer we'll have to wait?"

Again, he shrugged.

Buffy blew out a frustrated breath. A strategist, Spike was not. Not that she could claim to be any better in that department, but she liked to at least stack the odds in her favor. She leaned her sword against the streetlamp and started across the street to the club entrance.

Spike grabbed her arm. "Oi, where you going?"

She shook him off. "I'm going to go ask the doorman – there is a doorman, right?" When he nodded, she said, "I'm going to ask the doorman if he'll give Tenobit a message. See if we can't lure him outside."

"What sort of message?"

He had her there. Buffy had figured she'd go with her gut and say whatever popped into her head. "Um… Oh, I know. I'll say I'm here to collect the bounty on William the Bloody." She smiled.

Spike narrowed his eyes at her and took a cautious step backwards, away from her. "Yeah, that's a good ruse," he said, emphasizing ruse.

Buffy didn't say anything. It was about time he remembered she was a danger to him too. "Just stay here like a good, quiet little vampire."

The stairwell led down into a large alcove with large, frosted glass doors and gilded handles, and a tasteful sign beside them bearing the inscription The Velveted Unicorn. A doorman manned a small podium to the other side. "May I help you?" he said, eyeing her with distaste.

"Hi," Buffy said in her perkiest, aren't-I-adorable? voice. "I'm here to see Tenobit. Now, I know, I can't come in," she said, cutting off the doorman before he could protest. "But can you bring him a message for me?"

"Lord Tenobit," he said, "wouldn't have any dealings with the likes of you."

"Oh I know, but I promise you he'll want to see me. Just pass on my message. I'm sure he'll be very appreciative." She batted her eyes for good measure.

The doorman sniffed. "What message?" he said stiffly.

Buffy asked for a pen and paper. When the doorman handed them to her, she wrote:

Lord Tenobit, I can deliver William the Bloody. – Anne.

and then folded it in half.

He immediately unfolded and read it, and Buffy had to bite back her indignation. Who did he think he was? He was a doorman, not Tenobit's gatekeeper. She tucked her fists behind her back, to keep from rearranging his snooty doorman face.

"Really? And what proof do you have?"

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Well, I'm not going to tell you, am I? I mean, no offense, but how do I know you won't just steal my information and take the bounty for yourself?"

He eyed her, lips pursed, then said, "If you'd care to step inside."

"Oh no," she said. "I'm not dressed for the occasion. I wouldn't want to sully your fancy club. I'll just –" She waved her hand up the stairs. "Wait for him across the street. Whenever he's ready."

The doorman pivoted, back ramrod straight, and stepped inside.

Buffy ran back up the stairs and across the street, and hurriedly filled Spike in. "So you should hide, I guess," she finished.

"He won't come out alone. If he takes the bait at all."

"Probably not, but maybe he'll leave some of his entourage behind at least."

"You could be right." Spike slipped more deeply into the shadows between two buildings, and then melted out of sight.

Buffy kept her senses wide open, tracking him until he settled in on a nearby rooftop, and then she moved forward into the pool of light cast by the streetlamp she'd hidden her sword behind and waited.

She didn't have long to wait. Within moments, two large, pale-skinned demons clad in some sort of green leather, obviously bodyguards, mounted the stairs. Buffy didn't see any obvious weapons, but the way they scanned the surroundings suggested they took their duties seriously. A scrawny, mostly naked demon with blunt-cut horns skulked after them. The thick leather collar around his neck declared him the slave Spike had mentioned. Holding the slave's leash was a tall, slender demon of the same type, sporting a blood-red suit and long, backwards-curving ebony horns.

Tenobit.

If the Terminator demon he'd sent after Spike hadn't given it away, the quickness with which he'd taken the bait gave Buffy an idea of just how much he had it in for the vampire who'd hurt his son. She felt a small pang of regret that she had to kill him. Paternal instincts were something she couldn't help but admire, even in demons.

The procession halted at the top of the stairs, and Tenobit looked her over with surprise.

"You summoned me?"

Buffy had to strain to hear him, but she didn't intend to close the gap. She wanted him to come to her – and Spike. "Yup. I hear you're offering a bounty on William the Bloody. I can give him to you."

Tenobit chuckled, and guards joined in. "You," he repeated.

"Me." When the demon lord only looked at her, one eyebrow arched in disbelief, she lost what little sympathy she'd had for him. Jerk. "You want to talk terms?"

He shared an amused look with his guards, then shrugged and walked towards her, retinue in tow. "Tell me, little girl, how can you deliver me William the Bloody?"

"Well, I'm stronger than I look."

Spike leapt from his perch above and landed on one of the bodyguards in a billow of black leather, knocking him to the ground, then rolled and came up with his dagger at Tenobit's throat.

"Oh, and did I mention? Spike's already with me," Buffy said, scooping up her sword from behind the streetlamp and decapitating the second bodyguard in one easy swing.

The slave fell to the ground, screeching and clawing at his leash as he tried to scrabble away from them. The remaining bodyguard climbed to his feet with a growl, hands clenching and unclenching. Buffy kept the point of her sword leveled at him.

"William the Bloody," Tenobit said calmly. "What a pleasant surprise."

Spike yanked Tenobit backwards away from the guard, dagger digging into his throat. The slave followed reluctantly, forced by his master's iron grip on the leash.

"You're going to call off the contract. And the bounty," Spike said.

The demon lord laughed. "Vampires. So pedestrian."

"Do it," Spike growled.

Tenobit sighed. "Very well. Dravind, call my lawyer."

The bodyguard, Dravind presumably, reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the latest Nokia, a bright yellow model, to Buffy's surprise and amusement. Of course Los Angeles demons would be more hip than the Sunnydale ones. Dravind poked at the tiny buttons with a clawed finger, and then made to approach Tenobit and Spike.

"Give it to her," Spike said, jerking his head at Buffy. "You stay back."

Buffy held out a hand for the cell phone and then brought it to Spike, who held it up to Tenobit's large, pointed ear while Buffy went back to keeping Dravind at bay with her sword. She could just hear a faint, tinny voice answer, "Wolfram and Hart, how many I direct your call?"

"Holland Manners, please," Tenobit said smoothly. There was a brief wait, and then he said, "Hello, Holland, this is Lord Tenobit."

After a few moments of idle chatter, during which Spike urged Tenobit to get the point by pressing the dagger more tightly against his throat, Tenobit said, "Holland, you remember that little matter I had you take care of for me? With regards to one William the Bloody?" A pause, followed by, "It seems the matter has resolved itself. I would like to rescind the bounty."

"And the contract," Spike hissed.

"And the contract as well," Tenobit echoed. He listened for a moment. "A tip called in from Portland? I dare say it's out of date," he said dryly. His eyes drifted to Buffy. "The Slayer? How interesting. But again, this information is no longer of use to me. Your informant is too late to collect any reward." Again there was a pause, and he said, "Yes, I suppose I should learn how to check my messages. This new-fangled technology… ah well. A lesson for future reference. Good evening, Holland. Give my regards to your lovely wife."

The moment Tenobit finished speaking, Spike dropped the phone on the cement and smashed it under his boot.

"I just got that, you brute!" Tenobit said, and Dravind started forward with a growl before coming up against Buffy's sword.

"Are you sure he called it off?" Buffy said to Spike.

"Yeah, I could hear both ends of the conversation. It was legit."

"There, I've done as you've asked," Tenobit said. "Now how about you –"

He bashed his head backwards, angling a horn to skewer Spike in the face.

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