Disclaimer: Not my vampires, Joss Whedon's vampires and other folks.
Thank you to all the reviewers. Sorry for the delay - paid employment got in the way of fun stuff for a while. Happy Holidays to all and sundry!



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Chapter 5 After Dark
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The alarm clock went off at six, and Buffy whacked it with a groan. Last night had been exhausting, both from a ‘nearly-getting-sliced-to-ribbons’ standpoint and emotionally as well. She and Dawn had finally talked out the situation somewhat on the way home. Buffy acknowledged Dawn’s friendship with Spike. Dawn finally understood that Buffy wasn’t ignoring her; she was just trying to cope with the loss as best she could. By the time they got home both sisters were crying, but they had hugged each other and gone to bed feeling reconciled. Now another day at the Doublemeat Palace was looming, followed by a night of trying to track down the Trio of Assholes. Neither activity sounded particularly appealing to Buffy, but there was nothing for it if she wanted to feed Dawn and get some peace and quiet.
 
The house was quiet this morning, it being Saturday. She quietly resented the fact that the others got to sleep in while she prepared for a day at the local grease pit. Part of her wanted to drag them all out of bed and beat them senseless with the want ads until they got off their dead asses and got stupid jobs too. The rest of her was just too tired and depressed to care. She dressed in her hideous uniform and went downstairs to the kitchen. Nothing in the fridge looked terribly appealing so she grabbed an apple and munched it quickly while she got her shoes on. In ten minutes she was out the door.
 
Doublemeat Palace was annoyingly busy all day, and the manager was one of the ‘drank the corporate kool-aid’ types who insisted on telling her to smile every 2.45 minutes. By the fourth time, Buffy was seriously considering feeding him into the meat grinder. She plastered the fake smile on as best she could, but all she could do was think about Spike. How he had told her this job was beneath her. How he had offered to help them out financially, but she had refused him. When she finally got a break she went out in the alley and leaned against the wall where they had fucked standing up. She had felt just as dead then as now, but then she had had Spike actively trying to pull her back. Now she stood, arms crossed, just staring at the ground trying to gird herself for another round.
 
“Buffy?” She looked up and saw Xander, coming out of the employees’ exit. “Your manager said you were on break. Can… can we talk?”
 
“About what?” she said dully, reverting to staring at the ground.
 
Xander leaned against the other wall and looked at her. “How did we get here?”
 
Buffy shrugged. “Some long twisted route.”
 
“I’m sorry,” Xander said awkwardly. “I’ve been judgmental and barking at you, and I’m sorry. I’ve just been…”
 
“Under a lot of stress, yeah, heard that one,” Buffy interrupted. She fixed him with a piercing stare. “But you’re not sorry for dusting Spike, are you?”
 
Xander was taken aback. “What do you mean?”
 
“You dusted someone who was on our side. Someone whose crime was sleeping with your ex.”
 
Xander frowned. “It was just such a shock. I never expected Anya to betray me like that.”
 
“But betraying her is okay, is it?” Buffy snapped. “Do you think that maybe, just maybe, you might have a leg to stand on if you hadn’t say, jilted her?”
 
“I know that was wrong, okay?” Xander didn’t like the way this was going. He had planned to apologize, Buffy would forgive him as always, they would be friends again, done.
 
Buffy addressed her next remark to the ground again. “He meant something to me. I can’t really… I’m not good with words. But he gave me something I needed, and now he’s gone.”
 
“But don’t we mean something to you?” Xander pleaded. “We’re your friends. He was a demon.”
 
“He was a demon,” Buffy said, looking up and staring Xander down. “He was also my friend. And you turned him into a pile of dust.” With that her voice broke and she shoved past him and crashed back through the door into the restaurant. Xander stared after her with mounting levels of frustration until he threw up his hands and stalked off down the alley.
 
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“I’ll get it!” Willow called. She went to the door to admit Xander to the Summers’ house. Night was falling rapidly, and the group was having a last minute briefing before going out after the Trio.
 
“Hey, Wills.” Xander’s voice seemed to lack its usual inherent joking tone.
 
“You alright?” Willow asked as she shut the door.
 
“Yeah. Just having a hard time with it all.” After being rebuffed behind the Doublemeat Palace by Buffy, he had gone to the Magic Box to try to talk to Anya. The conversation had gone badly, to put it mildly. Anya had wished everything from boils on his penis to the bubonic plague on him, to the point that he was rather grateful that she had given up the vengeance demon gig. A little corner of his mind was starting to come to the realization that he had fucked up, badly, and that it was going to be a long time before some of the women in his life were going to speak to him again.
 
Willow frowned sympathetically at her friend and gave him a quick hug before ushering him into the living room. Buffy was sharpening an axe, more from a need to have something in her hands than any other reason. The effect made Xander swallow nervously before he edged into the room and greeted Dawn and Tara, who were installed on the couch. “So what’s the plan again?” Willow asked to break the uncomfortable silence.
 
Buffy put aside the sharpening stone and stood up. “You two head over to the warehouse district. Drive around, keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I’ll be over by the amusement park.” She tossed the axe to Xander, who nearly dropped it. “Take that. Since you know how to use it,” she added bitterly. She grabbed her coat off a chair and turned to Dawn. “You stay put, understand?”
 
“I got it,” Dawn replied. She wanted to roll her eyes at Buffy’s overprotectiveness, but the cold look in her sister’s eye gave her pause. Buffy had seemed to be in a state of barely controlled anger since she came home from work. As usual, Buffy refused to actually talk about what was going on in her head, leaving Dawn to surmise that she was still upset over Spike in some way. Since Dawn was also still upset over Spike, she had done her homework, helped with chores, and generally tried to make Buffy’s life easier. She wasn’t sure Buffy had noticed, but at least the wrath of Slayer wasn’t directed at her personally.
 
“If either of you finds anything, check in, alright?” Tara requested.
 
“We will,” Willow replied, giving Tara a quick kiss before grabbing her own jacket. “Ready?” she asked Xander.
 
“Um, yeah.” Xander too was struck by Buffy’s cold anger. Although he would have truly liked to make another attempt at reconciliation, he decided that given their earlier conversation the attempt was unlikely to go well. Instead he trailed quietly after Willow, pausing only to leave the axe in the front hallway. They were up against humans, not demons, and there was too much recent history in that particular weapon. He went outside, grabbed a crossbow out of his trunk, and joined Willow in her car.
 
“You alright?” Willow asked as she started the car.
 
“Not sure. Does Buffy seem to want me, like, dead or something? Or was that just me?”
 
“I don’t know what’s up with her today. She came home from work in a bad mood. I thought she was going to chop the cutting board along with the veggies at dinner, and she hasn’t said three words to anyone all afternoon.”
 
“That may be my fault,” Xander admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I went to talk to her at work. She didn’t really want to talk.”
 
“What were you trying to talk to her about?” Willow asked pointedly.
 
“I was trying to patch things up with her, but she wasn’t in a very forgiving mood.” Xander looked out the window, replaying the whole scene. “I just don’t see how she got so close to him without us noticing anything.”
 
“She wasn’t much with the sharing over the last couple months.”
 
Xander stared at his lap. “I tried to talk to Anya again today too. Just not batting a thousand with the ladies today.”
 
They had reached the warehouse district, and Willow pulled over and parked the car. She faced her oldest friend and said, “Xander, I got into a lot of trouble recently trying to get instant fixes. I almost lost Tara for good. You’re trying to do the same thing I was, just without the whole erasing people’s memories thing. They’re going to need some time.”
 
I know,” Xander sighed. “I just… I’m not sure how this got so fucked up.”
 
“I don’t know either,” Willow sighed back. “But right now, let’s look for these bad guys and we can figure out how to sort out our personal relationship tangles after that.”
 
“Probably a good plan.” They lapsed into silence as they began their stakeout.
 
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Buffy herself found that she knew as little as her friends did about why she was so angry. She walked so quickly through the streets to the little amusement park that a jogger would have had trouble catching her. All the while her muscles were tensed, her teeth were grinding slightly, and her brow was creased. Knowing she was up for a fight she tried to relax and focus. But all she felt was rage. Rage at the three stunted little man-boys who had planted those cameras. Rage at Xander for his overreaction. Rage at Willow for dragging her back from heaven to deal with all this crap. Rage at Spike for getting under her skin so deep and then having the audacity to dust. However, she seemed to be saving the largest portion of rage for herself. Over and over she kept thinking, If I’d been faster, if I hadn’t been such a bitch to him, if… if… She shook herself and kept walking, willing herself to focus on the present task.
 
She realized she had reached the target area and slowed down, instinct taking over as she stretched out her senses and listened. Sticking to the shadows, she approached the main ticket booth. Sure enough, there was a security guard there with the manager, both of them looking nervous and impatient. After a minute or two the guard said, “Finally. Maybe we can actually get to go home tonight.”
 
Buffy saw an armored car coming down the street and realized that as annoying as these three guys were, they were pretty smart. The park did a good business, but they closed later, so they were probably on the end of the route. The area around the park was pretty deserted at night, so there would be few if any witnesses. All in all, if you were going to rob someone, this was a pretty good place for it. She tensed and waited, wondering when they were going to show up, and how they planned on overcoming the armed driver.
 
The truck stopped and the driver got out. “Sorry I’m a little late fellas. My partner called in sick and the guy at the last place was taking his own sweet time getting his shit together.”
 
“No worries,” the park manager said amiably. “Let me just give you all my money so we can all knock off for the night.”
 
“Hey! We don’t say ‘knock off’ around here. Told you that,” the driver said with a grin. It was apparently a stock joke.
 
The men loaded four large bags into the back of the truck. The driver scribbled on a clipboard for a moment, then handed it to the manager to sign. “Same time tomorrow?” the driver said.
 
“No, a few minutes earlier!” The manager and the guard waved and laughed as they headed off toward the parking lot.
 
So where the hell are these guys? Buffy wondered as she watched the driver secure the back door and begin to climb into the cab. Then just as the driver slammed the door, she saw a blur of movement from behind a dumpster on the other side of the street. Warren was out in front and he strode cockily to the driver’s side of the truck with a grin on his face. “Sir? Can I help you?” the driver asked warily.
 
“In fact, I think you can.” With a swift movement Warren grabbed the door handle and ripped the door clean off its hinges as Buffy watched in astonishment. Before she could react Warren had grabbed the startled driver by the shirt and flung him out of his seat to land twenty feet away in a crumpled, stunned heap. Warren’s grin grew wider as he bent over, grabbed the wheel well and heaved upwards. Buffy’s eyes widened in shock as the truck tipped over on its side.
 
“Fuck this!’ cried the driver, who had recovered enough to scramble to his feet. The sight of his very large truck being tossed around like a toy overcame any training, and he took to his heels with barely a backward glance.
 
“Piece of cake!” Andrew said gleefully as he made his way around to the back of the truck.
 
“Not so fast, boys.” Buffy had recovered from her shock and was now stepping out of the shadows.
 
“Oh look, guys, it’s Slayer Barbie.” Warren ran his creepy gaze down her body in a way that made her skin crawl.
 
“Show’s over, asshole,” Buffy snarled. “And although I generally have a ‘no killing humans’ policy, I don’t necessarily have a ‘no putting losers in the hospital’ policy.”
 
“Just try it, bitch.” Warren advanced on Buffy with no fear whatsoever.
 
Something is not right here. The thought barely had time to form in Buffy’s mind before Warren attacked with a kick toward her midsection. She moved fast enough that she only caught a bit of the force, but what she did catch nearly knocked the wind out of her. Battle instincts clicked on and she recovered, launching a high kick of her own. Barely moving, Warren caught her foot between his hands and gave a viscous twist, spinning her in the air to land face down, catching herself on her hands. Before she could recover he was on her, delivering a kick to her ribs that left her gasping. She still managed to roll away and struggle back to her feet, just in time to block a punch to her face.
 
“Aww, is the Slayer having an off night?” Warren taunted as he kept advancing, almost casually swinging at her. His blows looked effortless, but to Buffy it felt like being kicked by a horse. Her left arm was soon rendered nearly useless as she blocked four hard blows in rapid succession. A small bloom of fear opened in her mind as she realized that somehow Warren was as strong as she was, but with height and weight on his side.
 
She ducked under his next blow and got behind him, leaping on his back in an attempt to choke him into submission. She got her arm around his neck and squeezed with all her strength, the cords of her muscles standing out with the effort. Warren was momentarily surprised, but then reached behind him with both hands and grabbed her jacket. With a tremendous tug he pulled her loose and clear over his head, slamming her to the ground. He jumped on top of her, pinning her arms with his knees and gripping her throat with one hand. “Any last clever little witticisms, Slayer?”
 
Just then a siren wailed in the distance. “Warren, come on,” Jonathan urged. He had watched the fight with a growing sense of unease. Jonathan had gone along with all of Warren’s schemes to get the orbs that gave him all this supernatural strength. Warren had assured them they were necessary to break into the armored truck. But Warren seemed much more interested in beating Buffy to within an inch of her life than in the money.
 
Warren frowned in irritation. “I guess we’ll have to finish this later, bitch.” Then he landed a blow to her chin that made stars explode in her head, and she blacked out.

TBC