Chapter 9: The Season Part 4

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, December 13th, 2007

"...and don't worry, General, we've got this," Dr Summers's cheerful voice announced as Sarah followed Chuck down the stairs.

"Ah. Agent Walker. Agent Casey. Mr Bartowski. I've heard you were busy."

Sarah managed not to wince at the general's tone. Yes, this was the nail in her career's coffin. "General." She nodded. "We have a situation here."

"So I was told - by a civilian. A Weapon of Mass Destruction in Los Angeles? And you didn't inform me at once?"

"You lack the necessary security clearance, General," Casey added. He was standing straight, not quite at attention, but close.

"Really." Beckman's expression didn't change, but her tone grew even colder.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Uh… you see," Chuck said, "It really was an emergency, and we're bound to help protect the country from such threats, so we rendered any assistance needed to…"

"...a foreign strike team?" the General finished for him. "Without permission or orders?"

"Hey! We're Americans!" Summers cut in. "Born in California! I could even become president if I wanted to!"

"No one would vote for you," Dr Summers said.

Sarah clenched her teeth. This wasn't the time to joke around! "Ma'am, you're aware of our orders from the Secretary of Homeland Security."

"The order was to leave certain foreign intelligence assets alone."

"Well, we couldn't actually sit around and let someone destroy Los Angeles, could we?" Chuck said. He looked angry, now, Sarah saw. "And as we said, you don't have the needed clearance to know about this."

"As opposed to you, Agent Walker and Agent Casey."

"Uh, yes." Chuck nodded. "Exactly!"

"I'm their superior officer," Beckman spat.

"Yes, but you're not our friend," Summers replied. "Chuck is, and he's vouching for Sarah and Casey, so we told them. And since we have the authority to decide whom we inform, it's all hunky-dory." She beamed at the general.

"So you can tell me," Beckman retorted with a glare at Dr Summers. Just what had the woman said to the general before they had arrived?

"We could, but we won't," Rosenberg said. "No one's vouching for you, after all." The general glanced at Sarah and Casey, and Rosenberg frowned. "They're your subordinates. That means that they can't vouch for you, obviously."

"Well, they could, but we'd have to consider the imbalance of power there," Dr Summers said. "Besides, if you need to know, your superiors will tell you," she added with a rather pronounced smirk.

"They don't like the military," Chuck whispered next to Sarah.

She would have been able to tell without that.

"That aside," Beckman said - through clenched teeth, "I didn't give you permission to let anyone use this facility."

"Hey, Madam General!" Summers stepped forward and stood with her hands on her hips. "Do you really want to make a fuss about us using your secret lair to save the city? Do you realise how stupid your complaint will sound?"

"Complaint? I am the commanding officer of this mission!"

"Oh! So you are planning to punish Sarah and Casey?" Rosenberg said rather than ask. "For saving the city? Typical! Is there something in the water at the Pentagon that turns people into stupidheads?"

"Besides, all we have to do is ask nicely, and you'll get ordered to transfer your base to us for the duration of the 'save L.A.' mission," Dr Summers added.

"Oh! Let's do that!" Summers was almost bouncing on her high-heeled feet. Sarah couldn't tell how she managed. "Do you want to do the honours, Willow?"

"Let's not," Harris said. "We have a mission to focus on, haven't we? We still have to defuse the 'weapon'."

"What?" Beckman blurted out.

"Ah, right." Summers turned back to the general. "Yes, we eliminated the bad guys, but the thingy is still dangerous, so we need to deal with it. That'll take a little longer. So, how about we do our job, you do yours - whatever that is, apart from glaring at people through a TV screen - and we share the base like mature people?" Her smile was anything but mature, in Sarah's opinion.

And Beckman's expression clearly showed that she shared that view. But the general nodded - very curtly. "Alright." The connection was cut without further words.

Sarah closed her eyes.

"Wow, you made her really angry, Dawn!" Summers said.

"Did not! I was all polite-like! It's not my fault she didn't like getting told that she had no need to know - I didn't make their rules!"

This was bad. Very bad. So bad even Chuck noticed. "Will they fire you?" he asked in a low voice.

"If they do, we'll hire you!" Summers announced. Of course, the Slayer would have overheard.

"They won't," Casey said. "Not yet. The Intersect is too important. And they don't want to risk a leak."

"Ah, that is good, isn't it?" Chuck said.

Sarah pressed her lips together. Casey just scoffed.

"Uh… they wouldn't try to kill you, would they?" Chuck said.

"Dead men don't tell tales," Casey said.

"But…" Chuck looked around. "They know this would mean war?"

"Only if they're caught," Casey said with a sneer.

Sarah nodded. That was how things were done by spies. "Plausible deniability," she said.

"We're not playing by those rules," Summers said with a scowl. "We're not spies. And they should know that, after Sunnydale."

Sarah refrained from rolling her eyes. "What matters is that the CIA and the NSA play by those rules. And would you honestly start a war with the USA if Casey or I die under suspicious circumstances, but you had no solid evidence?"

"We can get evidence!" Summers said with a rather feral grin.

"Yes. It's not the safest use of magic, but we can find out whether or not the CIA killed you," Rosenberg added. "I mean, hypothetically - I don't think and, of course, I certainly don't wish that either of you got killed, you know. It's just, should something happen to you, we can check if General Grumpyhead was behind it."

"Letting future employees of the Council get killed without retaliation sets a very bad example," Harris said.

Ah. Sarah narrowed her eyes slightly, then forced herself to relax so she wouldn't show her thoughts. Was that why Dr Summers had riled up the general? To drive Casey and Sarah into quitting and joining the Council more quickly? To make them need protection only the Council could grant them?

Summers didn't seem to be the type to play such games, but the best spies never did. And Summers was the one who took over the Council with her friends, according to Chuck. A bunch of kids barely in their twenties didn't manage such feats unless they were far more skilled at subterfuge than they let on.

"But…" Chuck shook his head. "You can tell the government to keep them in check, can't you?"

"We sure will!" Summers declared.

"But the government doesn't have the best track record when it comes to keeping their spies under control," Dr Summers remarked.

The woman was correct, though Sarah was also aware that many officially unsanctioned missions had actually been ordered by the government. Or at least tolerated.

"But a direct order not to kill us will help, won't it?" Chuck asked, looking at everyone present. Sarah was reminded that he was still somewhat naive when it came to the spy business.

"They won't be killing you, Bartowski," Casey spat. "They need you."

"Uh… only until they have restored the Intersect," Chuck replied.

"And there's Fulcrum to consider," Sarah pointed out. "By moving against us, the Agency would lose a valuable asset in the struggle with that conspiracy."

Casey snorted. "They'll consider us compromised already - barely better than Fulcrum."

And it would make it easier for Fulcrum to launch missions against them and Chuck.

"Why can't the government be reasonable for once?" Summers complained. Sarah almost expected her to stomp her foot. Which would probably damage the floor, now that she thought about it.

"They wouldn't be the government if they were," Harris replied. "It's probably in the constitution somewhere."

Casey growled while the Scoobies snickered.

Sarah didn't feel like laughing.

"Anyway, if we have to, we can take General Grumpyhead to a demon bar," Willow said. "But I'd really prefer not to have her type know about demons and magic. She reminds me of Walsh."

"Ew!" Buffy made a face.

Chuck shuddered as well. He hadn't met the woman in question, but what he had heard about her work. He certainly hoped that Beckman wasn't like that. "But we have to do something!"

"I'll call Giles and tell him to tell Mr Government to tell the general to call off her killers," Buffy said, then frowned. "I didn't forget any 'to's, did I?"

"No, you didn't," Dawn said. "Now go and get yelled at by Giles!"

"Yes… Hey! It's not my fault! I shouldn't get yelled at!" Buffy pouted.

"You volunteered!" Xander said. "No take backs!"

"Yep, B. Shouldn't have volunteered."

"Anyway, get a move on, Buffy!" Dawn said. "We need that problem dealt with since we have to deal with the Lord of Slime."

Right. Chuck winced - after the revelation that the CIA might be sending killers after Sarah and Casey, he had briefly forgotten about the demon beneath the Buy More. "Uh… and how do we do that?" he asked.

"Don't mind me, I'll listen in from the next room," Buffy said as she stepped into the locker room.

"Don't worry, we wouldn't stop on your behalf!" Dawn yelled back.

"Hey!"

"Anyway!" Xander said. "Slime Lord. Solutions?"

"We need to banish him back to his realm," Willow replied.

"The realm of all slimes? Is that a special hell for politicians?"

It wasn't one of Xander's better jokes, but Chuck snorted anyway. Once.

"We don't exactly know. Plinius didn't say anything about it," Dawn said. "But we have testimonies about past appearances in medieval times, and the book supposedly used to summon it. Unfortunately, the Council's copy of the tome was destroyed when the First had the old headquarters blown up."

"Blown up? They used explosives?" Casey asked.

"Some demons will use anything. Adam used magic machine guns," Xander replied.

Chuck was sure there was a flicker of envy on Casey's face when the agent heard about magic guns. "So, we need to find another copy?" Chuck asked, to get back on topic.

"Yes. And in a few days, or we'll have to prepare plan b," Willow said.

"Plan b?" Sarah asked,

"Plan B," Faith said, grinning. "Hit it until it dies."

"It works every time!" Buffy yelled from the next room. "Sorry, Giles!"

"The Lord of Slimes is in the middle of a giant compressed slimeball," Chuck pointed out. "How would you even get into range?"

"We'll find a way," Faith said, flashing her teeth, as she dismissed his concerns. "So… I don't know about you, but I'm feeling hungry and horny."

And that was Chuck's cue to leave.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, December 13th, 2007

Ellie was out of her apartment's door and moving towards them before they had finished parking the car. Yes, she had been waiting for them. Chuck winced before he got out of the car. "Hi, Sis!"

"What happened?" she replied, frowning at him, then smiled at Sarah before he could answer. "They didn't rag you into this… affair… as well, did they?"

"Ah, no," Sarah replied. "I let them use my store, though."

It was technically correct, Chuck guessed - he had been the one to drag her into the supernatural world, not the Scoobies. Unless you count indirect dragging - it had been the Scoobies who had told him about the truth behind Sunnydale's 'weirdness'.

"Good," Ellie said. "They can handle it. They did handle it, I hope."

"Well…" Chuck began.

"What happened?"

"I was about to explain," he replied, a little peeved. Ellie was worried, afraid, but she could let him finish, couldn't she? "Anyway," he continued after a moment, "They stopped a giant slime demon from burying the Buy More." No need to go into details about his own role here. He hadn't done much to speak of anyway.

"That was why the store was evacuated?"

"Uh, it was related - there were some attacks there, too. Morgan and Caridad handled the store."

"And what did you do?"

"I helped Sarah." Once more, technically true. Chuck still felt bad lying to Ellie. But next to lying to her about his work as a spy - or an intelligence asset, to be precise - this was a small thing. More or less.

"Ah." Ellie seemed to approve. "So, the 'situation' has been dealt with?"

"Not entirely. They still need to figure out how to get rid of all the slime that came through a portal before they stopped it."

Ellie laughed at that. "I would suggest buckets. Lots of buckets."

"I could loan them a mop, too," Sarah added with a giggle.

Chuck forced himself to laugh as well.

"That was rather smooth, how you handled Ellie," Sarah told him half an hour later, when they were eating their takeaway.

"Uh, thank you." Chuck wasn't entirely sure - not at all, to be precise - if he wanted to be complimented for lying to his sister. But being told you did good by your girlfriend who was also one of the top spies of the CIA? That felt good. As long as it was honest - but then, Sarah didn't really hold back with criticism during their training, did she? "So… just how bad is the situation with the general?"

Sarah took the time to take another bite out of her pizza, chew and swallow before answering. "I don't exactly know. But I don't think they want to risk losing you."

"If they try to kill you, they'll lose me for sure," he said. "And I think I could tell if it was them thanks to this." He pointed at his temple.

She smiled at that. "It all depends on how Beckman will take the Council's intervention." Another bite. "And speaking of that: How good are the Scoobies at these kinds of politics?"

She was worried - Chuck could tell. He did his best to smile reassuringly at her. "Don't worry. That's being handled by Giles, and he's really good at that. He's an experienced Watcher, and he basically rebuilt the Council, recruiting more Watchers, getting older Watchers out of retirement, that sort of thing."

"That's good to know."

Her smile was a little forced, or so it seemed. Apparently, Chuck hadn't managed to reassure her that Giles would have things in hand.

California, Burbank, The Castle, December 14th, 2007

"...so thanks to Giles' friend's information, we know the book was sold through the Barnes & Sons Auction House - which is a really sexist name, by the way, and they should really change it, I can't believe they get much business in California in the twenty-first century with such a name. What if they have a daughter who wants to get into the family business? Anyway, we don't know who bought the book, and since those sexist relics don't use computers, I couldn't just hack their records to find out. So, we have to use alternate means to acquire the information we need."

"Breathe, Willow," Xander said.

"I am breathing. I couldn't talk if I didn't breathe, could I?"

Chuck wasn't entirely certain if that was a good argument, but he decided to focus on the matter at hand and leave deciphering the mysteries of Willow's talking speed to another day. "You mean we'll have to break in and steal the records?"

"Copy them," Willow corrected him. "There's no need to steal anything - even though that might teach them not to keep all their records on paper, probably in those horrible old-fashioned ledgers."

"Don't let Giles hear you!" Xander laughed.

Willow sniffed. "We'll get him to use a computer sooner or later. With most of our records now in digital format, especially the microfilm copies of the main library we managed to recover, he doesn't have a choice. He will have to adapt."

"Leaving Giles' Luddite tendencies aside," Dawn cut in, "we need to do this quickly. Once we know the name of the buyer, we still need to acquire the Tome of Orean."

"What if the buyer sold it in the meantime?" Sarah asked.

"Then we'll have to find the next buyer," Willow said. "So, there's no time to lose!"

"That's what I said!"

"It bears repeating!"

"Sounds like a standard mission," Casey said with a grin - was it aimed at Faith? Chuck hadn't paid attention to the NSA agent, and he had been actively trying to ignore Faith before Sarah got angry. Had Casey and Faith done it last night? No, Caridad wasn't trying to kill her, so Chuck guessed they hadn't.

"Well, since they handle occult books often, we'll have to expect some supernatural defences," Willow said.

That made Sarah and Casey frown, Chuck noticed.

California, Los Angeles, Downtown, December 14th, 2007

"Welcome to Barnes & Sons, Mr Carmichael. I'm Anna Lopez." The thirty-something woman greeting Chuck and Sarah was dressed well, though only in California would her skirt length have been called modest.

"Thank you." Chuck resisted the urge to add 'glad to be here' - sometimes he still felt as if it were a game when he was on a mission. But it wasn't a game.

"How can we help you?"

"I have recently acquired a few old books in a sale - they came with the house - and since my interests don't cover Latin books, I'm looking to sell them. Your firm was recommended to me by an acquaintance."

"Ah!" The woman's polite smile grew a little. "Our firm has handled such transactions before, to the satisfaction of our clients."

"So I was told." He looked around as they walked over to the desk and flashed.

"Who was it who referred you to us, if I may ask?"

"Ah, an old friend of my late father. Rupert Giles," Chuck replied.

Lopez's eyes widened a little - unless she was impressed by Giles's academic efforts, this could be a hint that she knew about the supernatural. Many auction houses dealing with antiques had had incidents with cursed items, after all. At least Dawn claimed so. "Ah."

"Yes," Chuck went on, "he bought a few old books himself, but said the rest would get better prices if I had them auctioned off."

"I agree." Judging by the woman's smile, she definitely knew about the supernatural and was relieved that Giles apparently had taken care of potentially dangerous tomes. Perhaps they could have simply asked for the name - but then, Dawn had also said that the firm was very discreet. Too discreet.

"Oh, look, Charles!" Sarah piped up. "This scroll here would go so well with the leather couch! It's the same tone!"

"Really?" Chuck made a show of joining his girlfriend and peering at the old map. "Oh, it's a map. How much is it?"

"It's an original map dating by to Vasco da Gama," Lopez said, with a slightly strained smile. "It's not for sale, actually."

"Aw!" Sarah did her best imitation of Harmony - Chuck had to suppress a shudder. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Miss," Lopez replied. "It's not for sale."

"Really? But it would fit our living room so well!"

"Really, Miss."

Chuck cleared his throat. "Ah, so… how about we look at my books?" He pointed at his bag. Carmichael would have dropped it on the next table, but Dawn had warned him against damaging her books. Very thoroughly. And impressively.

"Of course. If you would join me in my office?"

"Of course." That was why they were here, after all. He looked at the back wall and flashed. "Omega Mark 3 Security cameras, linked to a central server," he whispered. "Laser sensors on the vault doors." But they didn't need the vaults.

"Got it," Sarah replied in a low voice as they followed Lopez into her office - which was quite a little larger than Chuck had expected. The woman must have a higher position in the firm than he had thought.

"So…" He carefully put the bag on the table and opened it. "What do you think?"

Lopez didn't quite whistle, but she looked like she wanted to. Badly. "Is that an original 'Ars Naturae'?"

"A what?" Chuck acted as if Dawn hadn't told him about every book.

"One of the earliest surviving encyclopedias," Lopez replied without looking at him. She was pulling on gloves now.

Sarah cleared her throat. "Excuse me. Where is the toilet?"

"What? Ah, down the hallway, left." Lopez answered. "Oh, and a treatise by Newton?"

Chuck smiled and nodded while Sarah sneaked out. She returned ten minutes later, although Chuck didn't think Lopez had noticed anything outside the books he had on display.

He almost felt bad for taking them away again, to 'think this through' after Sarah suddenly started talking about a collection.

"Got it?" he asked as soon as they left the auction house.

"Yes," she replied, raising her bracelet with the hidden camera.

Perfect. Mission accomplished. Like a real spy.

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, December 14th, 2007

"So, now we know that the book was sold to Trevor Martini. An 'independently wealthy' collector of antiques," Willow said.

"Is that a collector, or a 'collector'?" Xander asked.

"The second means a practitioner of magic or a demon, gathering artefacts and other dangerous items," Chuck explained in a whisper to Sarah. She didn't thank him, so she probably had guessed that already.

"If he's involved in the supernatural then he hasn't made any waves in the area," Phil replied. "Neither Caridad nor I have heard the name before today."

"He's also not known in the usual circles competing with us for grimoires and other relics," Dawn added.

"So he might be a legitimate collector of antiques, then?" Chuck asked.

Casey scoffed. "Always assume the worst."

Caridad nodded. "Yes." She handed a plate of hot dogs over to Buffy and went back to make more - which was pretty much the reason this briefing was held in the Wienerlicious, and not The Castle, Chuck suspected, no matter how often Willow claimed they didn't want to provoke Beckman further.

"You're an experienced man, indeed," Faith added with a smile that made Chuck breathe a little more quickly even though it was aimed at the NSA agent. It also made Caridad scowl, he noticed. And Sarah, too. Oops.

He cleared his throat. "So… how do we get the book we need?"

"Well...you're the spies, isn't that what you do?" Buffy replied. "Getting whatever information is needed to save the world. Or at least the country."

"You want us to take the lead on this?" Sarah asked. "Even though there might be supernatural defences in place?"

"Yes!" Buffy said. "Willow has to stay close to the lair so she can renew the spell, and we need two Slayers here to protect her during that time, but you can have one Slayer with you. Should be enough to deal with any trouble."

"I'll go!" Caridad said.

"You're the one with a cover here," Faith said. "And you're known to the spies' bosses. And I've got some experience with breaking into houses," she added.

"I also have experience with breaking in!" Caridad retorted. "And we're going to do it at night, so the store's closed anyway!"

"And General Grumpypants doesn't like anyone of us," Dawn added.

"And I have the most experience working with them!" Caridad said, putting both her hands on her hips.

"Sounds to me that's a reason for others to gain some experience working with our spies here," Faith replied. She was smirking, but Chuck couldn't tell if she was serious or merely yanking Caridad's chain.

"What for? You'll fly out after this anyway!" Caridad sniffed. "It would be a waste of time."

"Oh, it would be anything but a waste of time, I'm sure." The Slayer leered at Casey.

"Faith! We're talking about a break-in, not a…" Buffy trailed off.

"A what, B?"

"You know what I mean!"

"I don't. I'm talking about coordination and cooperation for a smooth experience - even though it might get a little rough," Faith drawled while her grin showed more teeth than some demons.

"I like it rough."

Chuck wasn't the only one turning towards Casey. The NSA agent blinked, probably surprised himself at what he had blurted out.

Faith smiled widely, and, for a moment, Chuck thought Caridad would attack the other Slayer. But then she turned around and stomped out of the store. Phil excused himself a moment later and followed her.

"I guess that means I'm coming with you," Faith said, sounding utterly unrepentant.

"Ah, yes." Casey sounded like he had second thoughts.

"Good. Let's go then - we have no time to waste. In and out and done. Just as I like it," the Slayer said.

Chuck exchanged a glance with Sarah. She seemed to share his bad feeling.

California, Los Angeles, Hollywood, December 14th, 2007

"Have you noticed how many Santa Clauses are around? Even at this time of the evening?" Chuck shook his head. It had seemed that every street had one of them, coming, going, or standing there and asking for donations for something.

"It's the season, Bartowski," Casey replied as he took another turn.

"Boston had more," Faith, who had commandeered the passenger seat up front, added.

"I'm just wondering if that would be a decent cover for a mission. Who's paying attention to Santa? After seeing half a dozen of them in the last half an hour? It might as well act as an SEP field."

"SEP field?" Sarah asked.

"Somebody else's problem," Chuck started to explain. "It's an invention of…"

"The guy who wrote the Hitchhikers Guide!" Faith cut in. "Red made a spell like it, once, but it wasn't working out right. People forgot all about the area, wandered off, then remembered what they were doing and returned… it was a funny loop, but not exactly subtle."

"That sounds like it was a good start," Chuck commented.

"Well…" Faith shrugged. "She would have had to have it mess with memories to work right."

"And?" That shouldn't be too hard, should it? Chuck thought.

"Red doesn't like memory spells."

"Ah." Chuck didn't really got what that meant, but he understood what her tone meant: That the Scoobies didn't like to talk about it. "So… no Santa disguise?"

"We can dress you up as one of his elves," Casey said. "And let the opposition laugh themselves to death."

It wasn't really funny, in Chuck's opinion. Not at all. Faith probably was just laughing because she wanted to sleep with Casey. Not that he would say that, of course. Faith had a reputation for sex and violence, after all.

Ten minutes and another Santa later, they reached their destination - the home of Martini. It was an older villa, different from the current style preferred by the stars du jour. A tall wall and dense garden surrounded a house that would have fit better into an old town on the East Coast. "He really wants that Old Money impression," he commented. Martini had made his fortune as a stock trader in New York.

"Many of the nouveaux riches do," Sarah agreed.

"Discuss the architecture later and focus on the security systems," Casey barked. "Let's split up and do some recon."

They had satellite pictures, and Willow had found a 'Home' article depicting the house shortly after it had been built, but none were up to date. "So…" Chuck nodded across the street. "We'll take left, and you'll take right?"

Casey snorted, as if Chuck had made a joke, but agreed, and they split up.

"Let's hope Faith doesn't distract Casey too much," Chuck commented five minutes later when Sarah and he were observing the back of the house from a hundred and fifty yards away, hidden by some scrubby bushes. Far enough for Slayer hearing to miss his words. So he hoped, anyway.

"He's too professional for that," Sarah replied. She was studying the door in the wall there through binoculars, as was Chuck himself.

He made an agreeing noise. He heard the implied rebuke, too. Focus on the job, not on your team members' social lives, got it. Or Sarah was simply tired of the Slayers.

"Do you think she's really interested?" Sarah asked a minute later.

Perhaps Chuck had misinterpreted her. He cleared his throat. "I don't know. I never knew Faith very well. She wasn't at school with us." And he wouldn't go into details about the reasons for that. "It could be that she just wants Casey because Caridad is interested and Faith wants to show her who's boss. Slayers are big on the 'pack order'." Xander had told him that, once. During the Wolfram and Hart affair, Chuck recalled. When an army of Slayers had descended on Los Angeles.

"'Pack order'?"

"Yes. Dominance plays and such."

"You make it sound as if they're animals."

"Uh…" That was a comparison one should never utter near a Slayer. "Not like that. It's just that they are all highly competitive. Remember Caridad going on about 'poaching' in her town?"

"That sounds like a predator behaving claiming a territory."

"Well…" Best to change the topic. "Perhaps Faith just wants a fling with the guy close to getting testosterone poisoning?"

Sarah snorted at that. Good.

The wall was tall and topped with ornamental but functional spikes. But the garden had grown a little too much and would hide their approach to the house, once they were over the wall. Of course, it would also hide traps and other nasty surprises, like guard dogs.

But Sarah had dealt with such obstacles before. Easily. They wouldn't be much of a problem.

She hadn't dealt with magical defences, though. Those would be tricky. An SEP field… She imagined falling victim to one such spell, wandering around in a confused haze, and pressed her lips together. What could you do against such traps? Lehane had mentioned that Rosenberg hadn't pursued that spell further, but that didn't mean others didn't have similar tricks.

Sarah really could do without her mind being magically controlled - or wiped. The worst was that she couldn't spot any magical traps. She could tell where the cameras and other sensors of the security system were - they had to cover certain angles and she knew how they worked and what they could do, and Martini would have hired competent people to install his security. She could also tell how to circumvent them. But how did you check for magic? She didn't know what rules governed magic, or what limitations it had.

And she hated it.

She keyed her radio. "Back route looks good," she whispered. "The wall's half-hidden by the trees, and the back door has a standard lock. Three cameras, none of them with overlocking areas."

"Amateur hour," Casey commented through the radio. "Front's covered better, but not by much."

"Isn't that weird?" Chuck asked. She didn't have to look at him to know he was frowning in that 'I'm thinking' manner of his. "Shouldn't a man with as much money as Martini protect his home a little better?"

"It's enough to keep out the kind of trash that would actually bother burglarising his home," Casey replied. "And he doesn't have the money to keep out the real pros."

Like top spies, Sarah thought.

"But there wasn't any report of even an attempted break-in in the files we got." Chuck was being stubborn. "And it's not exactly in the middle of Hollywood. So… wouldn't someone have tried, at least?"

He had a point. Sarah pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. Perhaps…

"Could be they break in, but never get out," Lehane said, finishing Sarah's thoughts.

Casey's curse told her that he had come to the same conclusion. "Good thinking, Chuck," Sarah said.

"It doesn't change anything," Casey went on. "We still need to get in, get the book, and get out."

"And we will." Lehane snorted. "We just might get to kill whatever monster the guy's feeding burglars to, too."

She sounded as if she was looking forward to the experience. Sarah didn't approve - adrenaline junkies were the worst partners. The trouble Carina had gotten Sarah involved in the past proved that, though with Carina, it was also her impulsiveness and impatience, of course.

Which, Sarah realised, would fit every Slayer she had met so far as well. Great. "Well, unless we want Los Angeles to be flooded with slime, we need to move," she said. "Meet at our position."

A few minutes later, they were making their way to Martini's backyard by crawling, using he scarce, dry bushes and the larger rocks littering the area as cover. Another sign of sloppy security, Sarah thought - these plants should have been cleared. On the other hand, Martini hadn't even bothered with keeping the area near his backyard from ruining his security…

She reached the wall and pressed herself against it, inching her way to the side until she could see the camera supposedly covering the area. It had a blind spot large enough to stand up in - and Sarah did exactly that. A minute later, the camera was looped. "Done," she whispered into her radio.

"Going in," Lehane replied. Then the Slayer jumped over the wall, easily clearing the spikes. And, Sarah thought as she pressed her lips together, the woman probably has been taking care not to jump too high to be covered by the trees...

"Clear," the Slayer reported at once. "Can't see, smell or sense anything in the garden. Come on over."

Grappling hooks got the rest of them over the wall, though Chuck had to be pushed over by Casey, with Sarah helping him over the spikes. She made a mental note to focus a little more on climbing than running in their training before she had to focus on the mission at hand again.

One camera at the house, and another 'hidden' on the almost over-grown gazebo. Neither posed any challenge. But they weren't the same type. Either Martini had updated his security at one point, or he'd had to replace part of it.

The lock on the back door looked brand new, too. Lehane bent down and sniffed it. Frowning, she straightened, "Smells like a slime demon."

"What are the odds that Martini's corpse is lying in the freak's lair, compressed into a thin paste by tons of slime?" Casey asked.

"Or rotting inside his home, his book stolen by slime demons?" Sarah pointed out.

"Let's find out!" Lehane replied.

Like the cameras, the lock wasn't an obstacle to a trained spy, and Casey had to door open in less than a minute. It opened into a kitchen, though it didn't look like it had been used recently.

But before Sarah could move further, Chuck flashed.

Chuck shook his head, blinking. "Uh, guys… there's a LaserTrack-2000 security system hidden inside the kitchen. Who would install such a system in his kitchen?"

"Someone who wants to catch thieves inside his house," Casey replied, baring his teeth.

"What does it do?" Faith asked. "Shooting lasers?"

"Uh, no," Chuck explained. "It is a sophisticated motion detection system. Very sensitive. Could track a Slayer as well."

The Slayer chuckled. "He must have been very concerned about midnight food runs."

"I doubt that it has a line to the police, but we can't assume that Martini's dead. So we can't risk triggering it," Casey said.

"Let's see how much it covers," Sarah said, pulling a can out of her backpack. She aimed the can at the centre of the kitchen, then pressed the top. The fine mist that started to fill the room allowed them to spot the lasers covering the kitchen - the entire dozen of them.

Chuck swallowed - they had to get past that?

Faith, though, didn't seem to worry. "Nice trick!" she said. "So, how do I turn it off?"

"The controls are usually protected by a code reader," Chuck replied, still, staring at the web of lasers crisscrossing the room.

"Hm." Faith looked at Sarah. "You up for some gymnastics?"

Sarah not-quite-glared at the Slayer, Chuck noticed, as she nodded, baring her teeth. "Yes."

Faith moved through the room like a hot knife through butter. Or something like it. The Slayer dashed forward, jumped, rolled, then jumped again, landing in a crouch next to the door leading into the rest of the house.

Chuck wasn't really watching her, though. He was watching Sarah. The spy - his girlfriend - took it more slowly, moving with precision and timing - and a grace, that, to Chuck looked more impressive than the supernatural smoothness of a Slayer. And she looked great doing it, even though she took half a minute to clear the room. And another thirty seconds to disable the lasers.

"Now where would he keep the book?" Chuck wondered when they entered the corridor behind the kitchen.

"Basement. Bad guys always hide things in the basement," Faith replied, already headed towards the stairs up ahead. She sniffed the air and cocked her head. "Doesn't look like there's anyone home."

"But smart bad guys would try to subvert that," Chuck protested as he followed the others downstairs.

"Most bad guys aren't exactly smart," the Slayer retorted. "And that doesn't look like the man's concerned about his wine," she added, pointing at the sturdy metal door at the bottom.

Once more, it took Sarah less than a minute to pick the lock, then Faith pushed the door open, revealing a room that perfectly fit the 'mad scientist' or 'evil wizard' cliché: Massive tables - some with restraints - cages containing what looked like human remains - Chuck shuddered - beakers, rows of vials and bottles containing weird ingredients, and… no, there wasn't a shelf full of books, actually.

But there was a safe.

"I think we found our cultist leader," Faith said, pointing at something in a cage. Something that looked like a half-formed human. No, a half-formed construct, Chuck realised.

Which was starting to move. As were the others in the room.