Usual disclaimers...

The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss (the Great Staker) Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and a whole bunch of people I don't know. The characters from Early Edition belong to TriStar, CBS Productions and another whole bunch of people that I don't know. The City of Chicago and environs are real, but it is understood by everyone that the Chicago in this story is in another reality than the one in ours. I'm not making a dime off this little project.

Rated PG-13 for violence and mild swearing

Part 4

Music, paper thumping against the door, Cat's meowing. Gary rolled out of bed and limped towards his door. He was still stiff and sore from last night's adventure. He still couldn't believe how strong vampires were; or how easily Buffy disposed of them. He hoped the Paper didn't have anything requiring rolling, jumping and leaping, because he wasn't sure he was up to it. He touched his throat, still tender from last night's attack.

He opened the door, and Cat ran into to its food bowl. He unrolled the Paper, and froze. Oh God, this is a thousand times worse than yesterday's news. He stared at the Paper for a moment, hoping against hope that the ink would rearrange itself into news he could stomach. Of course, the headline didn't change - nothing changed unless he changed it. Damn, damn, damn.

He read the front page, feeling increasingly sick. High school students touring Northwestern University's Evanston campus had been slaughtered by, well, no one knew quite what. The officials weren't talking, the accounts of witnesses were incredible. Gary turned to the next page and the horribly long list of victims. He scanned the page until he saw the listing under "Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale CA." There were their names; Willow, Cordelia, Oz, Giles, even Buffy - all dead.

"Meow?" Gary started. Cat looked at him as if to say, "Well, why are you just sitting there?"

"Warn them, have to warn them. How?" Gary grabbed the jacket he had worn yesterday and searched the pockets. Giles had scribbled down the name of the hotel the students were staying at. God, where was it? Business cards, parking stubs, there, there it was.

He grabbed up the phone and dialed. He waited for what seemed an eternity as the hotel desk clerk transferred his call. Three rings, four. Please still be there. Just as he was about to give up, he heard the receiver pick up.

"Good morning," said the proper English voice.

"Thank God you're still there," said Gary. "We have to talk now. Emergency."

"Ah, Mr. Hobson. I take it the news is bad?"

"Really, really bad. Can't explain over the phone, but this is big. I think I need help. You need help. We all need help."

"Of course. Can you meet us at the hotel for breakfast?"

--------------

"This is so unfair. I was going to spend the morning shopping!" exclaimed Cordelia.

To Gary's surprise, this was the strongest reaction he got from the group. The teenagers were plowing through the hotel's continental breakfast like it was their only meal of the day. He put down his untasted cup of coffee.

"How can you take this so calmly?" Gary could hardly get the words out.

"We sorta specialize in apocalyptic prophecies," explained Willow.

"Been there, done that, didn't even get a crummy t-shirt," said Buffy.

"Still," said Giles, "This is clearly serious, and we need a plan. Ideas?"

"It would help if we could get the civilians out of the way," said Buffy. She turned to Willow. "Can you do a little on-line magic?"

"Oh, yeah!" enthused Willow. "I could hack into the university's system and reschedule all the other schools for an earlier appointment."

"Weapons?" asked Oz.

"Hmmm. Sounds like a really big oogly-boogly. We're going to need more than a stake. Don't suppose there's a military base we could raid?" Buffy looked expectantly at Gary.

"Yeah, anti-aircraft missiles work really well on extra large demons." said Cordelia.

God, these people were nuts. "Er, no. Fort Sheridan was closed a few years back."

Buffy and Giles had their heads bent over the newspaper, looking for clues to what was going to kill so many people. There were so many conflicting stories from the panicked survivors that they couldn't be sure of anything, except that the thing was big. Buffy started flipping through the pages. Oz held up a hand, stopping her. He pointed at something on the page.

"Hey." said Oz. "Possible weapons source."

They gathered around him. There was a picture of two men in Highland dress, swords drawn. "Renaissance Faire opens this weekend in forest preserve near Green Oaks. Two sword merchants demonstrate their wares." read Willow.

"Ooh, big sharp, pointy things. Can I have some, Giles?" Buffy sounded like a child in a toy store.

"Well, it looks like we have the beginning of a plan." said Giles. "We will have to procure transportation, go to this place, and see what we can find. Willow will stay here and use her computer to misdirect the other schools." He turned to Gary. "How long will it take us to get to Green Oaks?"

Gary thought for a moment. "About an hour."

"Very well. Off to find a car rental agency then."

"I can drive everyone," offered Gary. "As long as we can be back by two o'clock. The Paper has a few more jobs for me."

It took them little over an hour to find the park. People were unloading vans and trucks, erecting tents and pavilions. A harried looking woman in a park ranger's uniform explained that the fair was still setting up, and yes, they could look around. They wandered around, looking for the two men they had seen in the newspaper. Gary looked at his watch impatiently. So much to do, so little time. This place was a madhouse. Stupid paper. How was he supposed to find the sword merchants and still get back to the city in time?

"Meow?"

"Huh, Cat?" said Gary. The tabby stared at him for a moment, and then ran off into the crowd.

"That way," said Gary, as he followed the cat through the crowd. Buffy caught up with him.

"So, do you always take advice from that cat?" she asked.

"Always," said Gary. "Ignoring him is a really bad idea."

"Kinda like Giles," laughed Buffy.

"Uh, yeah. Listen Buffy, is it true what Giles told me? That you've been doing this since you were fifteen?"

"Yep, regular child prodigy," she replied.

"That's outrageous!" he exclaimed. A few heads swivelled his way. He lowered his voice with effort. "Hell, at least I was over thirty when the Paper showed up on my doorstep."

"Yeah, it sucks to be me," agreed Buffy.

"But, can't you do something about this?"

"Like what? File a complaint with some government agency?"

"Put it that way, well no. But there.." she cut him off.

"Believe me, if I could run away from this, I could. Actually, I tried to, once. Didn't work." she sighed. "Besides, I've had it better than most Slayers. I have friends, and a Watcher who actually does more than watch. What more could a girl ask for, I mean, besides, really killer shoes?"

What's a watcher?" asked Gary, diverted.

"That would be Giles. Watchers are supposed to find potential Slayers and train them. From what he's told me, mostly Watchers, well, watch. Giles tried to do it their way, but he gets into the fight all the time. He's a bit of a rebel."

Gary was going to laugh at that, thinking of the very proper Englishman, until he remembered what happened at the airport yesterday. The expression on Giles' face when he pinned the drunk against the van had been cold, feral, and frankly, rather scary. He said instead, "Their way?" he prompted.

"Council of stuffy British sit-on-their-tails while Slayers do all the work and get killed guys." Her voice was rich with contempt. "Oops, I think we've found our guys."

They had come to a clearing in the crowd. A ring of posts and ropes kept the spectators away from the men fighting in the ring. One was a tall man with a long white beard, the other a short man with a trimmed dark beard. They were both wearing kilts, and they were both wielding long swords, which rang with each blow. They broke off and circled each other. Then there was a flurry of blows, and then it was over. The tall man's sword had been blocked into the ground, it's tip held in the soil by the short man's sword. Seemingly out of nowhere, the shorter man had a small, wicked looking dagger in his left hand, hovering a few inches away from the taller man's throat.

"Sometimes, speed is better than size, wouldn't you agree?" said the shorter man. Several people in the watching crowd yelled their assent. Buffy looked around, and spotted their target. "Oh look," she exclaimed, "Big pointy objects."

She pushed her way to the booth set up next to the fight circle. A short plump woman wearing a plain brown gown was arranging knives in a display case. She looked up at the approaching people and smiled.

"Can I help you?"

Buffy's eyes alighted on something on the display in the back of the booth.

"Oohh! I want that!" she exclaimed.

The woman's smile turned into a grin. "That's the sort of talk we encourage here." She turned around and said, "Which one?"

Buffy pointed. "The big one."

The woman looked puzzled. Buffy nodded, and woman reached for the sword. Gary could see the woman stagger slightly as she took the weapon off its display hooks. Gary leaned over to Buffy and whispered, "That thing must be six feet long."

"Yes," agreed Buffy happily. She reached for the sword eagerly. The woman paused.

"You are eighteen years old, right?"

Yeah, you betcha," said Buffy with a look of total innocence. Giles finally caught up with them.

"I'll take responsibility for it," he stated. The woman looked a bit dubious, but she handed the weapon over to Buffy. "Is there a place she could try it out?"

The woman pointed to the roped off circle that the two men had left. Buffy took the sword and stepped into the ring. She started to swing it experimentally, first slowly and then picking up speed. People stopped what they were doing to watch in surprise as the slight blonde swing the great sword in great arcs and complicated circles. She ended the routine with a leaping stab towards a dummy set up in the ring. The crowd around the circle broke out into applause. Gary could hear Cordelia mutter, "Good way to keep your secret identity secret, Buffy."

Buffy ignored the crowd and bounded back to Giles. "Can I have it, please?" she pleaded.

"While there is no doubt that you can handle the claymore," he said, "please keep in mind that we have to get the items on campus. Perhaps something a bit smaller would be better." Buffy pouted, but handed the sword back to the waiting woman. Buffy and Giles both tried out several more swords. As Gary watched the librarian swing something that the woman at the booth identified (in all seriousness) as a bastard sword, he thought, "I bet he doesn't have a problem with overdue books."

In short order, selections were made and they walked back to the van with their purchases. The woman and two men had offered to help them, but the offer was politely declined. The name of Gary's business was plastered all over the van, and he didn't need anymore attention. Besides several swords and knives, there were some small crossbows and a grappling hook. "What do you need that for?" asked Gary.

"I don't know, yet." answered Buffy. "It just seemed to be a good idea."

He drove them back to the city and left them off at their hotel. They made plans to meet later, and Gary tore off to take care of the various chores assigned to him by the Paper.

End Part Four