Chapter 21: The Stopover

Haiti, Cap-Haïtien International Airport, January 7th, 2008

He was just a tourist boarding a private jet. A rich tourist with a beautiful girlfriend and a bunch of friends who'd had a good time in Haiti and were now returning home. There was nothing suspicious at all going on here.

Chuck kept telling himself that as he walked towards the waiting plane - a Learjet 60SE which had been used last in Jordan to kidnap a Saudi-Arabian businessman suspected of supporting terrorists, the Intersect had informed him as soon as he had spotted it. Chuck really hoped that the CIA had thoroughly cleaned the blood from the floor.

And he really hoped he wouldn't get hit by some sniper. Even though Casey, Sarah and Caridad had told him that no one had managed to follow them to this airport. He trusted them, but he couldn't help feeling as if someone was aiming at him. Or at Sarah. At least, his muscles weren't hurting as much any more.

But he reached the jet's door without being shot, then entered it after Sarah. And sighed in relief as he sank into the first seat he saw.

"You know, any decent rifle will go through that window," Casey remarked as he walked past Chuck.

"What?" Chuck jerked, then glared at the grinning spy. And then pouted when he saw Sarah's smile.

"We're safe," she told him.

"I know. Reinforced windows, even." He knocked on them - the Intersect had told him the specs. But he also knew that they wouldn't stop an anti-material rifle. "It's just…" He shrugged. So much could still go wrong. Like someone shooting the tires of the jet when it was about to take off.

"Relax," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "We'll be in Jamaica soon enough. Where we will have to maintain our cover for a few more days."

"Five more days of vacation!" Caridad cheered from behind them. Slayer hearing, again.

Not that Chuck paid much attention - five days staying at a resort, enjoying the beach and pool, with Sarah… He smiled.

"We have to deal with the dagger and gris-gris, though," Morgan pointed out.

"And the blood sample needs to be transported to a lab," Bane added. "The cooler won't keep forever."

"You can extract DNA for testing from dry blood, though," Chuck told her. "So, that's not exactly urgent." And the more the sample decayed, the less dangerous information would the CIA acquire from it.

"We can call a courier from London for the gris-gris and the dagger," Caridad said, tapping her foot against the backpack on the floor in which said artefacts were currently stored. "That way, we can maintain our cover," she added with a wide, toothy grin.

"Right!" Morgan cut in. "The Council will be glad to take them off our hands."

"And return them to their legal owners?" Bane asked, with more than a trace of sarcasm.

"Yes," Caridad said with a smile.

"Eventually," Morgan added. "After thoroughly examining them - they could be fakes, after all."

"The Intersect identified them, didn't it?" Bane retorted.

"That's only as reliable as the CIA's information," Chuck pointed out.

"It's supposed to cross-correlate so much information, forgeries and fakes will be found," Bane said.

"Trust, but verify?" Chuck tried.

Bane didn't look as if she were buying it.

Their troubles never seemed to end.

Jamaica, Montego Bay, Sandals Montego Bay, January 7th, 2008

"A couple's resort." Chuck smiled as he took in their - his and Sarah's - room. "The CIA has style."

"I actually used a favour," Sarah told him as she turned away from the walk-in closet where she had just stashed their suitcases. "I requested this resort."

"Oh?"

"It came heavily recommended. For honeymoons."

"Oh." His smile widened to match hers. Then he had a thought. "Uh… what about Caridad and Casey?"

"They've got separate beds. They'll manage. They did so on the yacht."

"With ill grace," he pointed out.

"They'll need to work through this," she said. "And it's better they work through this now, that we're done with the mission and out of danger, than next time we have to work together."

That made sense. A little ruthless, but logical. He nodded. "I can see that."

"Good." She flashed an impish smile at him and slowly walked towards him, hips swaying. "I intend to give my all to maintain our cover identity, Mr Smith," she breathed more than she said as she let the robe she had been wearing after her shower fall down to the floor at her feet.

He swallowed. "So do I, Mrs Smith," he managed to say without blushing. Not too much, at least.

She reached him, craning her head slightly as she looked up at him, and he saw the tip of her tongue brush over her lips.

He drew a deep breath, smelling her, and swallowed again. Oh, yes…

Someone knocked on the door. He glanced at it as Sarah hissed: "We're not to be disturbed."

"Chuck?"

Morgan. Oh no.

"We're busy," Sarah snapped.

"We need to talk. It's important. Really important. And I don't have much time."

Sarah's expression almost Chuck wince. But he pulled himself together. "I'm sure it's very important." It better had to be, or he would have words with Morgan. Best friends or not.

She glared at him, then turned and picked up her robe.

He took that to mean that she agreed with letting Morgan come in. Once she was dressed again, of course.

Sarah clenched her teeth while she closed her robe. Of all the times to disturb them, Grimes just had to pick now! If this wasn't an emergency…

But Chuck was already at the door, glancing over his shoulder to check if she was decent, so she flashed an obviously forced smile at him, showing her teeth.

He coughed, then opened the door.

"Chuck! Sarah!" Grimes said as he limped inside. "Good thing I caught you before you went out or something!"

Sarah wanted to wipe his smile off his face. "Yes, a very good thing," she said as she sat down on the bed and crossed her legs."

"Oh…" Grimes blinked. "I didn't disturb you when you were in the shower, did I?"

Chuck coughed again. "Uh, no, no. No one was in the shower." He sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. Sarah leaned into him.

"Good." Grimes nodded, apparently not catching any hint no matter how obvious. "Kirsten's out getting her hair fixed, so I decided to use the opportunity to come and talk to you without her knowing about it."

Sarah nodded. At least now they knew that Grimes hadn't fallen for the spy's charms and lost all reason. "Unless she bugged you," she had to point out, though.

"Err…" Grimes blinked again.

Chuck was already getting the scanner out. "Looks clean," he said after a few seconds.

His friend sighed with apparent relief. "Good, good." He cleared his throat. "Now, the thing I need to talk to you about…"

"Yes?" Chuck asked after a moment.

Grimes cleared his throat again. "I think we need to tell her - Kirsten, I mean - the truth. About the demons, and stuff."

No, Sarah had been mistaken. Grimes had lost all reason due to the other spy's charms.

"What?" Chuck blurted out. "Morgan! You know she's a spy for the CIA!"

Sarah nodded in agreement. "And a spy with a very specific skill set," she added.

"I know that," Grimes claimed. "But we have to tell her before she gets the CIA to start trying to duplicate the 'mind control technique' Lindor used. Unless she knows the truth, she won't realise how dangerous it is. And they might stumble on magic in the process. You don't want the CIA dabbling in dark magic, do you?"

No, Sarah didn't want that. But telling Bane wouldn't prevent that. "Even telling her might not stop her, or convince her to keep quiet," she said. After all, Sarah knew Bane's type. "It might just let her know what they need to do - and that they need to keep their work top secret."

"But we can have Willow keep an eye on the CIA. Well, more of an eye she already is keeping on them. And your dad is watching them, too," he told Chuck.

"Then we can nip any attempt to work with magic in the bud," Sarah said.

"Uh… but she could think that you and Casey were mind-controlled," Chuck pointed out.

"And she already asked me about Chuck's sudden skills with a gun," Grimes added. "I don't think they told her everything about the Intersect."

"They don't trust her." And with good reason, Sarah thought.

"That means she might be willing to trust us - if we show some trust, too. Not without keeping an eye on her, of course," Grimes said.

Which wasn't really showing any trust, of course. "She's been trained to fool people and gain their confidence. It's what she does," Sarah pointed out.

"But she does that anyway, doesn't she?" Grimes looked at Sarah, then at Chuck. "And she's seen too much on this trip. The demons, the zombies, the Vodouist… she'll figure out something; she isn't stupid."

Sarah was aware of that better than anyone else present - as an attractive blonde woman, she had pulled off similar missions as Bane had, if not as often as the other spy. But to tell the woman… and in the middle of their 'vacation'? She shook her head, then glanced at Chuck.

He had that 'deeply focused' expression on his face. "I think you've got a point, Morgan," he said. Sarah struggled not to sigh. "She's trained to find out secrets, so she'll investigate. And we can't explain everything." He looked at Sarah and smiled lopsidedly. "I think we should tell her the truth. It's the best way to deal with this."

Well, apart from Bane having an accident - but the CIA would never believe that. Not even if really were an accident.

Sarah really didn't like this. She gritted her teeth as Chuck pulled her against him, then sighed. "Alright. But we can't organise a demonstration while we're here." She wouldn't let this ruin their vacation.

"Actually, we might be able to," Grimes said. "One of the past Slayers was born in Jamaica, and I think her Watcher retired here. We could contact him for help and see if Caridad can find a vampire on the island!"

She glared at him until he paled and stopped talking. Which took about a second.

Chuck cleared his throat to break the sudden tension - well, Sarah was tense; he could feel it with her arm around her waist, while Morgan was nervous. More nervous than he had been when he started this discussion. "Uh… so, we're in agreement about telling her. What about Casey and Caridad?"

"Caridad is guarding the dagger and gris-gris," Morgan said. "The Council's courier should arrive tomorrow to take them off our hands."

"Not quite what I meant," Chuck said. "What does she think about this? And should we ask Casey?" Technically, it wasn't his secret to tell, but… they were a team, weren't they?

"Err…"

Morgan hadn't asked her, then. "We should talk to her as well. I think." That's what Chuck had done before telling Sarah the truth.

"We need to do that anyway, since she has to arrange the demonstration," Morgan said.

"It's a bit more polite to ask her opinion, rather than to ask her to help us after we've already made our decision," Sarah pointed out.

"And this demonstration needs to be very impressive," Chuck added. "So she won't think demons can be handled."

His friend nodded. "Too bad there's no video from the Initiative. That would show her how dangerous demons are."

"It might also make her think about using demons against the CIA's enemies," Chuck replied. No one needed the Initiative 2.0. As far as he knew, the Council already had to stomp out two similar projects in smaller countries.

"She's too smart for that," Morgan protested. Sarah snorted at that, and Chuck's friend frowned at her. "She is. Really."

Yes, Morgan had a crush. Possibly more, Chuck thought. Well, he had expected that. Beautiful femmes fatales were Morgan's kryptonite.

His own as well, he added in his head and pulled Sarah a little closer. "So, uh… what about Casey?"

"We'll have to get his input as well," Sarah said. "He might have alternatives we didn't think of."

Like shooting her, Chuck thought, then realised this might turn out to be true - Casey tended to see mostly violent solutions to perceived problems.

"Err…" Morgan checked his watch. "Perhaps you talk to them? Kirsten won't take too long at the hairdresser."

And that way, Morgan wouldn't have to weather Casey's angry reaction - the man wouldn't be in a good mood after rooming with Caridad. But it was a sound argument, so Chuck nodded. "Alright."

Sarah sighed. "Then let us get dressed."

"Err… sure, sure." Morgan quickly left their room.

"Sorry," Chuck told her.

"It wasn't your fault;" she said as she stood.

"He means well." Morgan really did. "And I don't think that he realised that he interrupted us, uh…"

She snorted. "He's not the most perceptive."

Chuck wanted to protest, but she was correct - his friend did tend to miss certain cues and hints when he was focused on something. Like the time he had interrupted Chuck's attempt to get a date for the prom with his enthusiastic tale about finishing Final Fantasy Legend II. Well, more like wrecked.

Then Sarah dropped her robe before she picked up a light summer dress and completely derailed his thoughts.

Casey was lying on his bed, reading a magazine - Guns & Ammo - when Sarah and Chuck entered their room. And Caridad was on her bed, sharpening a stake. Or whittling it down - it did seem to be significantly shorter than average, in Chuck's impression. Both the agent and the Slayer were looking at them, and he couldn't help thinking that the two were also making a point of not looking at each other. Perhaps they should have rented two rooms for them...

"Uh… something came up," Chuck told them. "Something we need to discuss."

"Yes?" Caridad asked, cocking her head and dropping the shortened stake on the bed.

He took a deep breath. "We think we need to tell Bane the truth about magic and demons."

To his surprise, neither protested. Casey grunted in what sounded agreement, and Caridad scowled but nodded. "She saw too much," the Slayer said.

"And we can't disappear her without the CIA blaming us for it," Casey added.

"Uh, yes." Chuck nodded. Their quick acceptance had taken the wind out of his sails, so to speak. He had been prepared - psyched himself up - to argue the point. Not, he added to himself as he saw the two were now glaring at each other, to sort out their grudges. "So… should we do it here, or when we're back home?"

"Here," Casey answered at once. "Without a secure line of communication, she can't report any details back to the CIA."

Which meant they would be able to stop her from revealing what she had seen to the general. "We'll need to arrange a demonstration, then," Chuck said.

"No problem," Caridad replied. "I can find a vamp and drag it to… well, some abandoned warehouse or so."

"I think we need to plan a little bit for the 'or so' parts," Sarah said. "Morgan mentioned that there was a retired Watcher living on the island."

Caridad winced, which wasn't a good sign, in Chuck's opinion.

"Sam Zabuto, Kendra's old Watcher," she said.

"Kendra?" Sarah asked.

"The Slayer called between Buffy and Faith," Caridad explained before Chuck could. "She was killed by Drusilla in Sunnydale in 1998."

"Ah." Chuck wasn't sure if he had seen the Slayer. Hadn't there been an attack on the library at the end of the year, or something?

"And that was Zabuto's fault. The guy had sent her to help Buffy stopping an apocalypse, but didn't come along to help her." She scoffed. "He's also a hardass old school Council Watcher - Kendra was raised by him like a robot. She wasn't even allowed to talk to boys!"

Chuck hadn't known that.

"He retired after her death and just stuck to the island, as far as I know. Giles asked him to rejoin the Council after Sunnydale went down the sinkhole, but he told him to get lost." She shrugged. "Not exactly the kind of person to ask for help with this."

Ah. Chuck had been wondering why Morgan hadn't known more about the local Watcher. "Still, it's his home, and he probably wouldn't appreciate it if we started to arrange a demonstration for Bane without his knowledge."

"He wouldn't appreciate it if he knew that a Slayer and a Watcher are here." Caridad shook her head. "We don't need him, either. I grab a vamp or demon, and we use an old warehouse to show Bane the truth." She grinned. "Bet she wets herself."

Hostility towards Bane seemed to be something both Sarah and Caridad shared, Chuck noticed. He shook his head. "We're not exactly set up for that. We don't know the locals, we don't have contacts among the authorities, we don't have a cage or other ways to keep a vampire prisoner, and we don't know which warehouses, if any, could be used without alerting someone. I'd rather avoid causing more trouble."

"I agree," Sarah said. "We should at least contact the man before we start a mission here."

"It's always a bad idea to drop in a situation without local help and intel," Casey added.

Caridad huffed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Chuck sighed as the Slayer frowned and glared at Casey as if he had attacked her. That wasn't very professional; they had a cover to maintain, after all.

He knew better than to say that, of course.

Near Maroon Town, Jamaica, January 8th, 2008

Travelling early in the morning into what looked like a hilly jungle wasn't how Chuck had wanted to start his vacation. Well, technically, his vacation had started last night and had been perfect for the 'couple on their honeymoon' cover identities he and Sarah were using.

"I'm starting to have second thoughts," he said to Sarah, who was driving their rental.

"Oh?"

He looked around. "Not about contacting Zabuto. But about not taking Caridad with us."

"She's meeting with the Council's courier later in the morning," Sarah pointed out. "And I don't think Zabuto would be happy if we not only bring a Slayer along but also two evil artefacts."

She didn't stumble over the word 'artefacts' or otherwise sounded put off by its use, Chuck noticed. Ellie had taken years to stop frowning at having to use a 'fantasy term' when talking about demons and magic. "Good point," he admitted. "But if things go wrong, having a Slayer with us would help a lot."

"I don't think that he'll be stupid enough to start anything," she replied. "We're just paying him a courtesy visit so he doesn't get blindsided."

Chuck hoped that Zabuto shared Sarah's views.

A few minutes later, they entered Maroon Town, and Chuck pulled up the address they had been given, then checked it with the navigation system. "I think it's that way."

Sarah glanced at him as if she didn't agree, but she turned and headed down the street he had pointed out.

As it turned out, he had been correct - well, mostly. They only had to back up once; apparently, the device's software needed an update. But a few minutes later, they pulled up in front of an old but well-maintained house. Not a manor, but big enough for a larger family. An old but equally well-maintained Land Rover was parked in an open garage next to the house.

Zabuto obviously wasn't hurting for money.

They parked a little to the side - on the road, not on the grounds - and got out. After the climatised car, the air felt hot and humid even though it was still a little early in the morning, but it was bearable. And they wouldn't have to stay outside for long, or so Chuck hoped as they walked towards the house.

A tall, slightly stocky man was waiting for them on the porch. He was wearing a white, short-sleeved shirt and long white slacks with sandals. Chuck couldn't see any weapons on him, but he wasn't a trained spy, and the staff leaning against the wall next to him looked like a quarterstaff, not a cane.

"Mr Zabuto?" he asked.

"Who wants to know?" the man replied with a sneer.

Well, they were off to a good start. "I'm Chuck, Chuck Bartowski. This is Sarah Walker," he said. "We're friends of the Los Angeles Slayer."

The man's expression darkened further.

"I parted ways with the Council years ago," he spat.

So, he was Zabuto. He hadn't much of an accent, Chuck realised. But then, according to what he knew, the old Council had been very British and very conservative - any member probably spoke the Queen's English.

"We know," he said, smiling politely and, hopefully, charmingly. "We're not Watchers."

"Then who are you?" Zabuto's eyes narrowed, and he shifted his weight a little.

"Uh, as I said, we're friends with the Los Angeles Slayer." Should he mention that he was friends with most of the new Council? Probably not.

"This is Jamaica, not Los Angeles."

"Yes, of course it is," Chuck agreed. "We're just visiting."

"Visiting."

Chuck nodded. "Yes. A vacation. In the Caribbean."

"Really." Zabuto didn't believe him, that much was obvious. Even though Chuck was telling the truth - at least in Jamaica, they were on vacation.

"Yes, really. But something came up - not here, but before we arrived here. And now, well…" He cleared his throat. "We didn't want to hunt on your turf without informing you."

"My 'turf'?" Zabuto glared at him. "What do you think I am? A gangster?"

"A retired Watcher?" Chuck felt his smile slip seeing the scowl his comment had caused to appear on the other man's face.

"Sir, we're here so we can avoid causing trouble for you out of ignorance," Sarah cut in. "Some demons might blame you for the actions of a Slayer."

Zabuto scoffed. "I haven't been hunting vampires since Kendra's death - in California."

"Ah." Chuck blinked. He better not mention that he was from Sunnydale, then. Although... If Zabuto hadn't been hunting vampires, then who had? If no one had culled their numbers, could they have… "Do you know anything about the local, uh, demon scene?"

"This isn't a big city. There is no demon scene - just the occasional vampire."

"If you're not dealing with them, then who does?" Sarah asked.

"There are a few local fools who hunt the undead, despite my advice."

"Ah. Do you have their number? We want to avoid a misunderstanding. It wouldn't do if they mistook us for enemies," Chuck said, then cringed at the sudden, naked rage on Zabuto's face.

But it seemed Zabuto managed to control himself. "Ask for Jim in the 'Pirate's Eye Bar'. Now get off my property!"

"Thank you, sir," Chuck managed to say before they left the premises.

He sighed with relief once they were back in their car. He was sweating, he noticed - and he didn't think that was purely because of the weather. "That could've gone better."

"We got what we wanted," Sarah said. "Mission accomplished."

"He was more hostile than I expected. It's a good thing we didn't take Morgan or Caridad, I think."

"Yes," Sarah agreed. "Though he knew who was hunting vampires, even though he claimed that he wasn't involved with it."

"He probably was approached by them," Chuck guessed.

"Perhaps." Sarah didn't seem to think that was the explanation. But then, she was a trained spy - she would suspect ulterior motives and lies, wouldn't she?

"Well, we'll find out, I guess, once we visit the bar," Chuck said.

And wondered, privately, if he should be a little more suspicious of others as well.

Montego Bay, Jamaica, January 8th, 2008

Trying out a shirt in front of the mirror in the hotel room, Chuck paused for a moment and craned his neck to check out his back. Did it look a little redder than it should? He had used sunscreen, but he had also gone swimming several times - they had spent the afternoon at the beach - and he might not have been as diligent as he should have been in reapplying it. Well, not to himself, he thought with a silly grin.

"Here." Sarah interrupted his thoughts and handed him a navy blue polo shirt.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Doesn't it clash with the slacks?" There was a reason he wore mainly white shirts and black slacks when he was dressing up, and it wasn't because it was the Buy More Nerd Herd uniform.

"No, it doesn't," she replied with a grin. "We don't want the demon hunters to think we're British, are we?"

He chuckled at that. No, after the talk with Zabuto, they didn't want to be mistaken for British Watchers. "Well, he doesn't seem to be fond of American expats, either," he pointed out.

"That might be due to his Slayer dying where Buffy and her Watcher survived," Sarah said.

Could Zabuto be so petty? It was possible, Chuck decided. The man certainly seemed to be holding and extending grudges. But he thought there was a little more behind it. "Well, there won't be any Watcher, British or American," he replied. Morgan was still on crutches, and that would be a handicap if they had to run. Not to mention that Morgan tended to make a bad first impression, a less than loyal part of him added.

"Nor Bane," Sarah added with a nod as he slipped the polo shirt on. "Let's go before we make the others wait."

It was a little too late for that, Chuck discovered as they reached the lobby - Caridad and Casey were already there, sitting as far from each other as one could and still be considered together. They certainly weren't maintaining their cover as a couple as well as Chuck and Sarah did. "Hey, guys!" Chuck greeted them. "Ready for a night in town?"

Casey glared at him as he stood up, and Caridad huffed.

They could use some work on maintaining their cover as tourists as well, Chuck thought.

Contrary to Sarah's expectations, the 'Pirate's Eye Bar' didn't look like a tourist trap. There were no fake historical pirate decorations, the waiters and waitresses weren't wearing pirate costumes straight from the Halloween discount bin, and the prices were a far cry from the ones in the hotel bar.

The music filling the bar, though, conformed to stereotypes - Bob Marley, loud enough to make conversation without raising your voice difficult. And there certainly were tourists among the patrons. And the bouncer at the door ogled both her and Caridad and missed the pistols and other weapons the group had spread out between the four of them.

All in all, nothing really surprising.

There wasn't a free table - they were a little too late, it seems - but that wasn't a problem. She went straight for the bar, Chuck at her side, with Casey, who'd had insisted that he was fine, as well as Caridad trailing behind them. Good. Sarah preferred to make contact herself.

She leaned against the bar and flashed her credit card to the bartender, then pointed at the price list and ordered four drinks. And when the young man put them down in front of her - he had mixed them with decent speed and skill, in her opinion - she added a generous tip, then bent towards him, so she didn't have to yell. "We'd like to talk to Jim."

He stiffened, and she caught him checking out the entire group instead of staring at her and Caridad's cleavage, as he had done before. And looking at the mirror behind him, to see if they had a reflection she supposed. "Zabuto sent us," she added.

He nodded, though he still seemed a little reluctant. "Wait here," he replied, then turned and headed through a door behind him without waiting for an answer. She turned. Chuck had been almost hanging over her shoulder, so he had caught the exchange. Slayer hearing would have let Caridad overhear them from across the room. And Casey knew how such things went, so they sipped from their drinks and waited.

A minute later, the bartender returned, followed by a guy that would have fit among the waiters in the bar without any trouble. Young, tall and athletic without looking like a steroid abuser. He looked like a local, too. "I'm Jim," he said, then nodded towards the door behind the bar. "Let's talk there."

Not the most subtle approach, but perhaps an observer would assume that they were tourists looking for weed. And Caridad didn't seem to have detected any demons nearby. So Sarah nodded, and they followed the man.

The door led into a hallway with three doors - two leading to rooms, one out back - and stairs at the end. Jim picked the second room, which turned out to be an office filled with a desk and several mismatched chairs and filing cabinets. Jim took a seat behind the desk, then stared at Caridad. "You're the slayer," he said with a heavy Jamaican accent.

So, he had called Zabuto. Or Zabuto had informed him in advance.

Caridad nodded with a cocky grin. "Los Angeles's Slayer, at your service."

"And he's your Watcher," Jim added with a nod towards Casey.

Caridad scowled at once. "No. My Watcher's not here."

"Oh. Sorry." The man sounded honestly sorry, even.

"He's in L.A., not dead," she explained.

"Ah." He nodded in a curt manner. "And what do you want here?"

If he had spoken to Zabuto, he would know. But he might want to check for discrepancies - if he were a trained operative. Which Sarah doubted. He was too young, for one. And he wasn't smooth enough, either.

"We need a vampire or demon for a demonstration," Caridad said, flashing her teeth.

Jim frowned. "A demonstration?"

"Yes. To prove that vampires exist," Caridad went on.

Now the man knew that they had someone with them - or knew someone on the island - who didn't believe in vampires. And that they needed to prove that demons were real. The Slayer was revealing intel that Sarah would have preferred to remain a secret.

"If too many know about magic, the world's gonna end," Jim replied.

So, Zabuto had told them about the Old Ones. Well, he would, of course.

"Yes," Caridad said, rolling her eyes. "But sometimes, people are about to discover the truth anyway, and you don't want them to stumble into a demon lair while they do it."

"I don't think that Zabuto approached you out of the blue to inform you about vampires, did he?" Sarah interjected.

"No, he didn't," Jim admitted. "We met…" He trailed off.

Sarah nodded. He had better instincts than the Slayer but he was still not a trained spy. "We don't want to cause trouble for you by unknowingly interfering with your plans," she told him.

"And would you knowingly interfere?" Jim narrowed his eyes at them. Sarah adjusted her estimate of his age downward; that had sounded like a teenager.

"Only if you're messing with stuff you shouldn't be messing with, or screw up," Caridad said with a toothy smile.

"You think you're hot stuff, do you?" Jim retorted, baring his own teeth.

"I'm the Slayer," she replied, taking a step forward and placing both hands on the desk as she leaned forward.

Sarah sighed inwardly. Caridad just couldn't resist a challenge, could she? "We're not here to mess with you or take over. Something came up during a vacation," she said.

Jim scoffed. "That figures. Of course you don't care about us. The only reason there ever was a Slayer here was because she was born in Jamaica."

Was that what Zabuto had told them?

"That's not exactly fair," Chuck cut in. "The Council has to cover the entire world, and there was only one Slayer until recently. And the Slayer was needed on the Hellmouth to prevent apocalypses."

"Kendra died there!" Jim spat.

"Did you know her?" Chuck asked.

"She saved my life. And then she went and got killed in California. On your orders."

Ah. Sarah slowly nodded. That explained a few things. How Jim knew about vampires, his relationship to Zabuto and his view of the Council.

"We're not the Council," Chuck said. "We're just friends with Caridad." He smiled. "We help her out when things get tough."

Caridad, to Sarah's mild surprise, didn't proclaim that she didn't need help. Instead, the Slayer said: "Kendra died following the orders of the old Council. Things changed since then. They're gone, and we're in charge."

Jim scoffed in response. "Of course you'd claim that. But nothing changed here."

"Hey! Zabuto could've joined the new Council!" Caridad replied. "He didn't want to, so don't blame that on us!"

"I thought you weren't the Council," Jim told her with a sneer. Definitely a teenager, Sarah thought.

"They aren't. I'm a Slayer, duh, so of course I'm part of it!" Caridad returned the sneer and Sarah thought she heard that the desk the Slayer was gripping creak.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Chuck stepped forward. If the desk weren't in the way, he probably would have stepped between the two. "Let's calm down, OK? All we're here for is to find out if we mess up things for you if we hunt a vampire."

"Or more! Not that you could stop us, anyway!" Caridad wasn't helping.

"Stop bickering like little kids over the last slice of cake! There are enough vampires for everyone." Casey spoke up for the first time, but his contribution wasn't particularly helpful either.

Sarah saw that Chuck glared at both the agent and the Slayer, then turn to Jim again. "Please. We really only came here to check so we wouldn't make trouble for you by hunting vampires. So, if you'd point us to a place where vampires usually hunt...?" His smile looked a little forced, Sarah noted, but he was honestly trying.

Jim was still scowling, clenching his teeth for a moment, but at least he didn't pout. "The bloodsuckers like the Buccaneer Bar because the owner doesn't like us."

"Thank you!" Chuck beamed at the other man.

Sarah glanced at Casey. The agent met her eyes and nodded.

So he was suspicious of Jim's motives as well.

"That could've gone better," Chuck said as soon as they had left the bar. "But at least we got what we wanted." And, as Sarah had taught him, that was what counted when you were on a mission.

"It's a trap," Casey replied.

"What?" A trap?

"You heard the kid," Casey snorted. "The bar owner doesn't like them. He either wants to use us to bump off a rival or get payback, or he thinks we can't deal with someone too strong for him. Either way, he wins."

That made no sense. Chuck shook his head. "You make it sound as if Jim's a gang boss." The kid was too young for that. "I didn't flash on him."

"The CIA probably didn't have any information on him," the other man replied. "Or he started only recently. But I know his type. He felt disrespected and wants payback for his hurt ego."

"I don't think Zabuto would be working with a gang boss. Or sending us to them," Chuck said. He looked at Sarah for support.

But she apparently didn't agree with him. "He wasn't very cooperative," she said.

"Wounded pride," Caridad chimed in. "That's why a number of old crotchety Watcher types didn't join Giles - they are too proud to take orders from a bunch of Americans and a Watcher who was fired."

That was… Chuck shook his head. Why couldn't people work together? Demons were a threat to everyone! "So, what do we do?"

Caridad grinned. "We'll go to the Buccaneer Bar, of course!"

Chuck really should have expected that answer.