Lie To Me, Part 5

(_)(_)(_)

November 3, 1997

An hour before the sun went down, the Scoobies (minus Angel because the sun was still up, but they would meet him after sundown) gathered in the basement. Their mood was grim and determined. For the moment, Billy Ford's somewhat suspicious death was set aside. They had a bigger concern to deal with. Namely a crapload of people who either had no idea about the Sunnydale nightlife or who didn't care.

Either way, none of the Scoobies were on board with so many people courting death. They were arming themselves accordingly. While there were relatively few vampires left in Sunnydale, they were under the control of a clever, capable leader. One that they didn't know how to predict. Would Spike let his Court go after the party goers? It wasn't a risk they were willing to take.

Even if Spike kept his Court away from the party, there was the rest of the demonic population to worry about. Their numbers had not been reduced at all by the establishment of Spike's Court as far as the Scoobies could tell. And while Spike might be able to intimidate and control some of the weaker non-vampire demons if he so chose, they couldn't depend on him doing that. And Spike absolutely could not intimidate or control the demons with middling or higher strength/power levels. So the Scoobies still had that bunch to worry about regardless.

With all that in mind, they were going out in force, and armed to the teeth. Both Cordelia and Mrs. Calendar were joining them. Xander watched Buffy arm herself and was left wondering how the heck she moved at all, never mind freely, given the number of knives, stakes, arrows, and other weapons about her person (including the crossbow).

Not that he was all that much better. He had the double-headed axe he'd kind of fallen in love with strapped to his back, half a dozen stakes stuffed in various places, and three knives. Jon was almost as burdened down with weapons as Buffy, though he'd opted for grenades instead of knives and hadn't bothered with the more specialized weapons. Giles had opted for a somewhat lighter load, carrying 'only' several stakes and one of the other axes. Willow, Cordelia and Jenny all had two stakes a piece and carried crossbows and very large quivers. In their cases, the stakes were more intended for 'just in case' as none of them were quite as good at close-range combat as the rest of the teens.

No one in the group minded a bit. Close-range heavy hitters were required in this business, but long-range combatants were invaluable. Folks who could reliably shoot targets at range meant a lot fewer demons getting close enough to need the personal touch. Which increased the likelihood that the Slayer (and, in the case of the Scoobies, the 'normal human' assistants) would get out of the fight in one piece.

Yeah, the heavy hitters would have to keep an eye on their long-range partners when a fight got up close and personal, but with the Scoobies, there were enough good close-range fighters to manage that without a problem. And at least with Willow and Mrs. Calendar, there would be continued improvement in their ability to fight close-range, lessening the need to protect them.

Whether or not Cordelia would improve depended entirely on whether or not she continued to hang out with them and want to play a part. She was invested now, but no one knew whether or not the Sunnydale Effect would get hold of her at some point. Heck, none of them were absolutely sure that anyone other than Buffy and Giles would remain involved. Sure, Xander and Willow were on the warpath thanks to having lost Jesse, but … that didn't mean much. Not here. People either forgot about or just seemed to not care overmuch about the deaths that happened thanks to the nightlife. So there was a possibility, however remote, that the two of them would eventually succumb to the same effect.

Xander though, was fairly sure that at least he would be immune to the Sunnydale effect. Thanks entirely to the Guide/Sentinel thing. This was Jon's territory now. He was very aware of the danger, and thanks to being a Sentinel, would remain so. As his Guide, it was severely unlikely that Xander would forget or stop caring.

One last check of weapons and they headed out the door.

It didn't take long to get to where the out-of-towners were staying for the day. It didn't take long after they got there for Jon to be utterly, completely horrified.

"What the hell is wrong with these people?" He demanded after less than five minutes of eavesdropping on their conversations.

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Giles said dryly.

"They know about the nightlife. They're here because of it. They want to be turned into vampires." Jon said, his expression and tone, despite his best attempts otherwise, failing to completely express his feelings about the discovery.

He got a multi-voiced, utterly horrified "WHAT!" in response.

"I ain't saying that again. I feel dirty enough having said it once." Jon objected.

"If it wouldn't give us more work than we already have, I would almost … almost … be tempted to leave them to their desired fate." Buffy said. Despite her obvious disgust and horror, it was clear she didn't mean that. "When does the party start again?"

"An hour after sundown." Jon said.

Jon had heard more than that. He'd heard someone mention Ford having organized the whole thing. But he wasn't going to tell Buffy that. At least not tonight. Not right before they had to keep these morons from getting what they wanted. Too big a risk the news would throw her off her game. He'd tell her in the morning, after it was all over.

He'd have to talk to Angel when Angel joined them. Find out how likely Spike would be to go for a bunch of idiots like this in general, as well as if he'd gotten an invitation. Boy, was this going to be fun.

It took most of the remaining time they had until sundown to find the club, which Jon overheard was being hosted in the basement of a warehouse. Unfortunately, that hadn't been much help given how many warehouses there were in town, used or not.

They found spots to stake the area out, then headed for the Bronze, where they'd arranged to meet Angel. He was there by the time they arrived, looking sour and more than a touch reluctant. Jon and Xander shared an eyeroll, but otherwise didn't antagonize Angel.

"We found the club. And figured out what's going on, at least mostly." Buffy said, her nose wrinkling. "They're here to get vamped."

Xander cracked up at the look on Angel's face. Clearly, this sort of thing had happened before, and Angel thought such people were utter morons. "Yeah, that was pretty much our reaction when we found out." He said, for once in complete agreement and harmony with Angel.

"Such groups of people are, unfortunately, fairly common. Especially since vampirism became a popular subject in fiction." Angel didn't quite roll his eyes, but he came close. "Which encourages a romanticized view of what being a vampire means at best, and a totally incorrect view at worst."

"And there will always be the crazy, stupid sorts that know exactly what it means and don't care. Like the serial killer groupies. Those idiots know what being a serial killer is and means, and yet they think such people are awesome." Mrs. Calendar said.

Angel's expression just got more sour. "Let's get this over with."

"Agreed." Came the chorus of agreement.

(_)(_)(_)

Halfway across town, Kendra emerged just as the sun came down to hunt down whatever demons she could find. Unbeknownst to her … she was walking straight into a trap.

With a Court full of not just vampires but other demons, it had been incredibly easy for Spike to set up a situation designed to draw in and then tire out a Council-trained Slayer. He just had his people set up an apparent 'nest' near Willy's.

Where Buffy and company tolerated the bar's existence because it kept at least some demons out of trouble, a Council-trained Slayer would have zero tolerance for any demon of any description, under any circumstances. It wouldn't take her long to discover the large amount of demon activity in the area and try to do something about it.

His own people had orders to engage, but not finish the Slayer … and to not get killed themselves. The demons hanging out at Willy's would do as their natures demanded, whether that was run for the hills or try their best to kill the Slayer. Given the usual crowd there, Spike didn't think any of them would manage the latter. They would, however, tire her out. Leaving her easier prey for him.

That was, of course, if everything went according to the best-case plans. Spike had contingency plans for if Buffy and her cohort showed up, and for the very unlikely case that the Council Slayer didn't take the bait. In the former case, the plan was basically 'run for it'. In the latter, it was 'try again another time'. Though who knew when another situation like this would crop up.

The temporary 'nest' had been set up in an empty apartment over one of the stores across the street from Willy's. Spike himself set up in the apartment across the hall so he could keep an eye on things without getting dragged into the melee before he wanted to be.

Then it became a waiting game. Though Spike would give the Council Slayer this much – she was at the very least competent when it came to tracking. It took her less than an hour to make her way to their little trap.

Better still, she looked a little ruffled, an indication she'd stumbled across at least one demon on her way here. So much the better.

(_)(_)(_)

Kendra was beginning to wonder as to Buffy's (or more probably, Giles') sanity. Normally, a Watcher was informed of a demonic incursion somewhere. They then sent their Slayer to that location (or, if it was far away, traveled there with their Slayer) to deal with the situation. Once the incursion was dealt with, the Watcher and Slayer either returned to their home base, or traveled to the next incursion.

The point being that a normal Slayer got at least brief respites between battles. Usually at least one night due to travel requirements, and sometimes as much as a week if there was extensive travel time and preparation required to deal with the incursion. And the incursions were generally fairly small population wise. A single nest of vampires or one or two other demonic beings at most. The actual difficulty of dealing with the incursion varied hugely, of course.

Buffy (or Giles) had set up camp in a town with hundreds, perhaps thousands of demons of varying descriptions. Kendra could sense them everywhere she went, even if she couldn't see them. And by her own admission, Buffy went out and hunted demons every single night. No breaks, no relief. No respites. And according to what her own Watcher told her, Buffy had been doing this for a bit over a year.

Small wonder she'd been killed, then, however briefly. Such an unrelenting grind would wear down even the best Slayer to ever exist eventually. There was, Kendra was beginning to admit, possibly a very good reason she had a backup crew. However heretical such a thing might be. It was entirely due to them that Buffy had not stayed dead, at the very least. Kendra was still inclined to doubt they had much, if any use, in combat. Unenhanced humans might be able to stand against a vampire minion, especially here, but that was a might. And about the only demon they could do that with. She neither cared about nor truly believed the claims that there were fighting techniques an unenhanced human could learn that would make fighting lower-order demons possible.

Kendra had already run across and dispatched a triad of Tagrats, lower order carrion-eater demons that weren't at all picky as to what sort of carrion they ate. At the size of a big dog and disinclined to attacking living beings, they weren't dangerous to a Slayer unless there was a good-sized pack of them. They had very tough pincers that allowed them to break through the hide and bones of pretty much anything they encountered, but most of their unusual qualities lay in their ability to handle and consume the vast majority of demons and animals. Poisonous/acidic flesh, defenses that weren't disabled by the death of the demon or animal in question, and that sort of thing did little to no damage to Tagrats.

Then Kendra spotted what looked like a bar. She was about to ignore it and continue on when an apparently very drunk demon staggered out of the place. Instantly, Kendra went on the attack, pulling not her stake but one of the sturdy normal daggers she carried. She recognized this particular breed of demon as somewhat hard to kill, but fortunately not one that required a specific method of death beyond either sufficient blood loss, other damage, or hacking off its head.

Across the street and watching out the window for Kendra to arrive, Spike smiled. His trap was sprung. Now to see what came of it.