Chapter Four
Enemies, A Love Story

So don't lay another finger on her
She's mine and I still want her
If you put your hands upon her,
You're a goner, a goner
How many people are sick of holdin' it back?
How many people wanna kick some ass?
--Stroke 9


He wanted to scream. But he needed all the breath he could get.
Xander vaulted down the stairs, trying hard not to hear the beast charging after him. He'd run from Oz before, and the little bastard was fast. He rounded a landing as something burst into the stairwell above.
Suddenly, Ozwolf leapt from the first landing, not even bothering with the stairs. He got himself turned around and snarled at Xander, who froze.
"Okay," Xander said. He pulled off the T-shirt as slowly as he dared and tossed it underhand at the wolf. He let out a cross between a bark and a growl and grabbed the garment in its teeth. He immediately started shaking his head violently, tearing it apart.
Xander slowly backed away towards the door; he was almost there when Ozwolf looked up from the shirt's remains.
"Hey," he said soothingly. "It's not me, right? It's the shirt. Grrr. Bad shirt."
Ozwolf took a step closer. Xander's hand closed around the door handle.
"Because, y'know, I certainly haven't been anywhere near Willow lately--"
The mention of her name raised Ozwolf's hackles. He growled louder.
"Stay..." He pressed the handle down. "Stay..."
Ozwolf took another step forward. He glared maliciously at Xander. Xander suddenly yanked the door open, got on the other side, and pulled with all his might. Before he could get it closed, however, Ozwolf's paw jammed into the doorjamb. Xander kicked it once, then twice, and the howling werewolf pulled away.
Xander collapsed against the door and sat down, shivering. Okay. Okay. There's got to be somebody I can call for this. The concierge! I can call--no, no, don't be ridiculous...but if I call the cops, they'll--
"Sir?"
Xander looked up. A bellhop pulling a luggage cart was coming up the hallway towards him. "Sir, are you all right?"
"Who? Me? Sure. Fine." Xander stood. "Listen, maybe you could help me. If, say, a wild animal was loose on the premises, who would you call?"
"What?" The bellhop stared at him. "What kind of wild animal?"
"A wolf."
"How'd a wolf get in here?"
"Hey, buddy, that's the kind of question you ask after the thing's in a cage, you know? Who do we call?"
"Hold on..." The bellhop pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt. "There's some new policy in place ever since this Ledbetter guy bought the place--"
He was interrupted by two hundred pounds of werewolf smashing against the door. The door stood up to the impact, but just barely. Xander and the bellhop looked at each other for a moment. Then Xander started pulling the luggage off the cart and piling it in front of the door.
"Whoever you call, call 'em! Now!"



The phone rang.
A slender arm reached out from beneath silk sheets, picked up the phone and grunted into it. Then it tossed the sheets aside and handed off the phone.
"Lem, honey, it's for you."
"Thanks, baby." Ledbetter cleared his throat. "Ledbetter here."
He sat up.
"What?"
He got out of bed.
"What?"
He pulled on his robe.
"With a plate full of breakfast food?!"
He rubbed his face.
"No, don't worry about it. Let's just get that boy back before he kills somebody. Get everybody on it. Right."
Ledbetter hung up the phone.
"Gotta go, baby. Order yourself some breakfast."
"What's happening, Lem?" the woman asked.
"Animal control problem is all," Lem said. "Nothin' we can't handle."



"I can't handle this," the bellhop moaned as Ozwolf slammed into the door again. The luggage shook with each collision, suitcases falling.
"Look, if there's two of us, we might be able to--" Xander paused. Oz had stopped growling. "Maybe he's calming down."
"Maybe he's eating somebody."
"No, we'd hear the screams." They both backed away from the door. "What's he..."
Then there was another collision, but not from the door this time. Something that sounded wooden broke. There came a scrabbling sound from the top of the door.
"The hell is that?"
"I don't know...is it standing on its hind legs?"
"I don't think so, he's kinda..." A small line of dust fell from the ceiling. "...short." Xander looked at the ceiling.
Drywall ceiling tiles. The kind that could be removed. The kind that hid space above.
"Run," Xander whispered.
"What?"
"He's in the ceiling," Xander hissed.
Before the bellhop could react, a hairy arm shot through the tiles and swiped at them. The bellhop screamed, terrified.
"GO! GO!" Xander yelled, and took off as fast as he could go. He didn't look behind him, but he heard. He heard the tiles collapse. He heard the bellhop's scream.
Most of all, he heard the wolf at his heels.



"So...you smoke?" Spike asked.
Debra, for that was the name of the woman who had brought him his clothes, shook her head dreamily.
"Wow," she murmured as she luxuriated on the bed. "I'd always heard about vampires, but..."
"You did, eh?" Spike smirked. "What've you heard, then?"
"Oh, you know...that you never get tired..." She peered at him. "Um, so why did you call me 'Buffy' there?"
"What?" Spike looked shocked. "I didn't!"
"Yes, you did."
"Look, you daft tart, I would never. Ever. Ever shout out that bint's name during the act."
"Fine. Whatever." The phone rang. It took about five rings for Debra to give in, roll over, and pick it up. "It's for you."
"H'lo? Oh, mornin', Just. What's--there's a what? All right, all right. No, I didn't hear anything, I was a bit occupied--right. I'll just poke my head out."
He tossed the phone back to Debra, pulled on his pants and walked to the door.
"What's going on?"
"Ah, it's Justin havin' me on," Spike muttered. "He claims there's a were--"
He opened the door just in time to see Xander run past, with Ozwolf only a few feet behind.
"--wolf," he finished. "Toss me my shirt, would you, luv?"



He didn't have time to think. Only to react. When he saw the hotel room door open, Xander leapt through it, knocking over a young man dressed in a T-shirt and boxers.
"Hey!" the man cried as Xander slammed and bolted the door. "What the hell are you--" He was interrupted by a terrible howl from the werewolf.
"How are people sleeping through this?" Xander wondered out loud.
"Hey! Hey, I'm talkin' to you, asshole!" the kid yelled. "Whaddaya think you're doing? Get--"
Xander spun and grabbed the kid by the collar of his Big Johnson T-shirt.
"You hear that?" he hissed, jerking a thumb towards the door. "That's a werewolf. He wants to eat me because he thinks I've been messing around with his ex-girlfriend. You want a piece of me too, shitheel?"
The kid blinked and shook his head.
"There another way outta here?"
"Uh...my buddies are in the next room, there's a connecting door..."
"Okay. Okay." Xander rubbed his face and thought. "Here's what we're gonna do."



Oz growled and scratched at the door. The ENEMY was inside, he could smell that. The ENEMY reeked of HER; his MATE had touched this one, and recently. The ENEMY must be defeated. He wanted to KILL THE ENEMY. KILL THE ENEMY. KILL THE--
The door suddenly swung inwards. At the other end of the room, he could see THE ENEMY, taunting him. Rage overwhelmed him; he charged forward, but before he could reach THE ENEMY, he escaped through the second door. He slammed and locked it.
Ozwolf heard movement behind; the other door has slammed shut as well.
Trapped. Like before.
The howl of frustration that followed was the loudest yet.



It was only a minute later that Spike found Xander in the hall. He was sitting on the floor, gasping for air. Sitting next to him were three extremely freaked-out looking frat boys.
"You're not dead," Spike said.
"Check out Mr. Wizard over here."
"Well, excuse me. Last time I checked, there was a bloody great werewolf on your heels."
"Not just any werewolf. It's Oz."
"Oh, him." Spike felt around for his cigarettes. "What's he doing here?"
"Maybe he's here for the Bennett show." Xander tried to get to his feet. "Oh, hey, Matt, Ben, Casey, this is Spike. He drinks the blood of the living."
"Hey," the frat boys said in unison.
"Uh...should you be telling them that?"
"They're fine," Xander muttered. "Question is, what are we gonna do with Ortiz the Dog Boy in there?"
Behind them, unnoticed, a young man walked towards the door. He whistled a happy tune as he felt around for his keys.
"The pound?"
"Funny. I don't know, maybe we just leave him in there until he de-wolfs."
"Uh...we hafta check out at noon," Casey said.
"He can't last that long, can he?"
"I don't know," Xander said. "Maybe if I move away so he can't smell me..."
The young man put his key into the lock.
"Hey, Cole," said one of the shellshocked frat boys. "Where you been?"
"Hooked up, dude," Cole mumbled. "Lemme just get--"
Xander and Spike turned at the same time.
"Don't--"
The door was only open a crack when a paw lashed out and slammed it into the wall. Ozwolf ran through Cole's legs, knocking the boy to the ground, and snarled.
"Plan?" Xander asked.
"Run," Spike replied.



"...and check-out time is tomorrow at noon," the clerk said, handing Buffy and Willow their card-keys. "Thank you for staying at the Aquapolis. Do you need any help with your luggage?"
"Nope," Buffy replied. "No luggage. Speaking of, what are we going to do about that?"
"We'll shop later," Willow said. "Right now, I want to find--" She was cut off as a man rushed up to the front desk.
"Call security!" he cried. "My nephew's in trouble!"
"What?" the desk clerk said. "What's the matter?"
"He--well, I'm not too clear on that, really, but he sure looked worried."
Willow looked at the man. "Rory?"
Rory turned and did a double-take at the sight of her. "Will? What are--how did--"
"What's happened?" Buffy asked urgently. "You said Xander was in trouble. What is it?"
"He...I don't know! He met this kid getting on the elevator, and they seemed to know each other..."
"Shortish?" Willow asked. "Spiky hair? Nice hands?"
"Xander said his name was Oz."
"Where are they?!"



"Is he still--"
"Yes, he's still back there!" Xander screamed as they ran down the stairs.
"If we could just get a few seconds' head start, I could--OWWWW!" Spike screamed in pain as Ozwolf bounded down a flight of stairs in a single leap and swiped at his back. Xander didn't stop. He reached the door and barreled through it.
"You little bastard!" Spike screamed after them. "This is my favorite coat! I killed Edgar Allen Poe in this coat!"
Xander blinked as he ran through a bright, sunlit hallway. They must be near the ground floor now--what did that sign say?
Water Park.
Oz chuffed behind him as Xander made for the double glass doors. He could see the swimming pool just beyond. He slammed into the doors, knocking one off its hinges, leapt over two old men in deck chairs, and dived in.
Oz arrived a moment later, to a chorus of terrified screams by the patrons. He ignored them as they ran by. He sniffed the air. THE ENEMY's scent stopped at the edge of the water. He peered at the water, but couldn't make out one shape from another.
He looked around. Nothing. There were people at the door, watching him carefully and talking into boxes, but he wasn't in the mood to chase them, somehow. He was tired. He lay down and lapped at the water, then shook his head violently. It tasted wrong.
At the other end of the pool, Xander very carefully raised his head above the surface. Oz had his head on his paws now, blinking sleepily.
That's it, Wolfboy, he thought. You have a nice nap. I'm just gonna float here until the guys with the tranquilizer guns show up. He took a deep breath through his nostrils.
And inhaled some water.
And started to cough.
Ozwolf was suddenly more awake. He looked at Xander through rheumy eyes, as if trying to connect the head to what he'd been chasing. Xander found himself backing towards the pool ladder.
Oz got to his feet. Xander dared to take his eyes away for a moment; a few feet behind, stairs, something about a water slide...
Oz was on the move. Xander very slowly climbed the ladder, which was awkward because he was trying to keep his eyes on Oz at the same time. In the background, he thought he saw Spike shouldering his way past the hotel guys. Xander put one foot on the tile floor surrounding the pool.
Oz howled.
Xander ran.



"All right, sir," the man at the front desk said. "We've had reports of a large dog up near the water park. Our security personnel will be there in just a moment."
"Where's the water park?"
"All over, really, but the last we heard, the dog-"
"Wolf," Willow corrected.
"..was near the mouth of the water slide." He pointed at a sign at the far edge of the lobby. NIAGARA! World's Tallest Water Slide!
"Shouldn't we get up there?" Rory asked.
"You don't think..." Willow trailed off as a distant howl worked its way through the lobby.
"Go!" The three of them took off in the direction of the sign.



Okay. Let's review. As if the sheer terror of being pursued by a revenge-crazed werewolf isn't enough, we are now freefalling down a water slide to our almost certain death.
Xander would have responded to his brain, but he was too busy screaming in terror. The multicolored tube of the slide blended together into a sickly purple mess. He was sure he was getting windburn just from the speed.
Behind him-very close behind him-Ozwolf was howling. Good. Serves the little bastard right. He sounded close, though. Xander lay back to try and pick up some more speed. He did so and tried to look behind.
The paw nearly took his head off.
Xander screamed again and lashed out, his fist connecting with wet fur. He did it again, and Oz cried out in pain.
Good.



Buffy, Willow and Rory arrived at the pool just in time to hear the screaming begin. The huge tube ended in a long, shallow pool where the travelers were stopped by the ever-popular wedgie method. As they crossed the threshold, they saw a furry heap explode out of the tube. The tourists either cowered or ran shrieking from the room.
"Come on!" It was screaming. "Come on! You want a piece a' this, you flea-bitten fuck?!"
With a swipe of his arm, Ozwolf sent Xander flying. He impacted with the wall of the pool and gasped, the wind momentarily knocked out of him.
"Not--done with you, you--" He managed to choke out before doubling over in pain. Ozwolf took a step forward in the water, slavering.
"Oz!" Willow cried. "Oz, stop!"
He did. He turned and looked at her.
"Be ready," she murmured to Buffy.
"Oh, I am."
"Okay," Willow said soothingly. "Okay. You're okay, right? Yes you are. Yes you are."
"Hey, I'm fine too," Xander yelled. "You know, just in case anybody gives a rat's ass!"
Willow's tone of voice never wavered. "Xander, I'm trying to get him to change back. If you keep yelling like that, he's going to remember that he was trying to eat you a second ago." She stepped into the water. "So shush."
Oz was now inches from Willow. He sniffed the air almost longingly.
"There you go," Willow continued. "That's a good wolf. A nice, calm wolf. Nice and--"
"AHHHHHH!" The peace was shattered by another body tumbling out of the slide. Oz turned and howled, prepared to pounce as Spike rose out of the water.
"You owe me a coat, you bloody--" Which is more or less when he realized that the room was filled with sunlight. Screaming, Spike ducked back below the water to douse the flame. Oz chuffed and turned back to Willow, still growling.
Things happened quickly after that.
Xander was across the pool in moments, tackling the man-beast. This earned him several bruised ribs as Oz struggled, but it gave Willow enough time to get some distance.
Buffy leapt into the water and tried to find an opening. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be one what with all that Xander on the werewolf's back.
Spike crawled back into the slide and started trying to crawl back up.
And several tranquilizer darts thunked into Oz's back.
And Xander's.



"Xander?"
"Ummmmg."
"I think he's waking up," Willow called out. "Get some juice over here. It always helped Oz when he woke up."
"Here you go, big guy," Rory said.
"Ohhh," Xander moaned. "Not so loud. Where am I?"
"Your hotel room," Buffy said. "You've been out for a few hours. You got tranked."
"Oh." He tried to sit up, then decided to put that off for a decade or two. "Where's Oz?"
"We're not sure," Willow admitted.
"Will?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm gonna kill him."
"Xander--"
"I am so very much going to kill him."
"Just calm down."
"His ass is kicked."
"We'll have to find his ass before you can kick it," Buffy said. "A bunch of gunsels took him away. I was going to smack 'em around, but this big guy came over and started finessing us."
"Lemuel Ledbetter," Rory added. "The fight promoter."
"No, seriously," Xander said. "I'm going to beat him to death."
"Drink your juice," Willow told him.
"With a stick. A pointy stick."
"I'm sorry, sweetie." Willow handed him the glass. "Maybe you need more sleep."
"Maybe." Xander closed his eyes. "Yeah. I'll be able to kill him better if I'm rested."
And with that, he lost consciousness again.



"There was no need for that, you now."
Oz awoke with a start. The cold metal under his skin was, unfortunately, familiar. He was back in the cage. He looked around; it looked like he was in a basement, all concrete walls and exposed pipes. He shuddered; he was naked and covered in gooseflesh. A short distance away, Ledbetter sat in a folding chair, staring at him over steepled fingers.
"Blanket's right behind you," he said in his rumbling voice. Without taking his eyes off the promoter, Oz reached behind and found the flannel blanket. He pulled it over himself.
"What happens now?" he asked.
"Well, that is the question, isn't it?" Ledbetter leaned closer. "I made quite an investment in you, wolfie. If there's one thing Lemuel Ledbetter cannot stand, it's losing money."
"I won't fight for you."
"You don't have a choice anymore." Ledbetter stood. "When you went on your rampage through the hotel, I explained you away as an escaped animal, but now the word's out. Everyone's gonna want to see my new werewolf at the fights." He fixed Oz with a burning glare. "Everyone is going to see my new werewolf at the fights."
Oz said nothing. He was good at that.
"Didn't have to be this way at all," Ledbetter muttered as he folded up his chair and leaned it against the wall. He walked to the door, shaking his head.
"I thought you didn't buy people," Oz called after him.
Ledbetter stopped at the door, his finger on the light switch. He turned and looked at Oz over his shoulder.
"I don't. But you're not really a person, are you?"
He flicked the switch and closed the door behind him, leaving Oz alone, alone with the cage and the darkness.



Xander's eyes opened. He slowly sat up and looked around. Willow was seated on the plush loveseat, watching television.
"Any more juice," he managed to get past his cracked lips.
"Sure thing." Willow reached into the mini-fridge and produced a small bottle, which was the same price as a compact disc. "How're you feeling?"
"Achey." He took the bottle and chugged it. He belched without quite realizing what he was doing. "What's the what?"
"Buffy and Rory are out trying to figure out where Oz is. And I'm watching you."
"So you are." Xander stood up and stretched his back. "Little creep."
"Xander..." Willow rolled her eyes. "Come on. It's not his fault."
"Hmph. I swear, the luck on that guy."
"You call this luck? Do you realize where he's been?"
"Do I care?" Xander opened the fridge and retrieved a packet of peanuts.
"That's just mean!"
"Hey, he caught one whiff of you and chased me all over the hotel, all right? I think I'm entitled to some mean!"
Willow blinked. "That's what set him off?"
"Same as it did before with Tara. The boy has issues." Xander struggled with the packet for a moment, then just went ahead and tore it open with his teeth.
"Great," Willow said miserably. Xander looked at her, trying to figure out how to take that.
"So, uh...how are you?"
"Some circus guy pointed a gun at me."
"What?! When? Where?"
"It was some place on the highway. That's where we found Oz; he'd been caught and turned into some weird attraction."
It took Xander a moment to process that.
"Oz was in a freak show?"
"Don't you laugh."
"Okay."
"It's not funny."
"Okay."
"At all."
"Gotcha." Xander reached out and touched her hand. "But you're...you know, okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah." Willow smirked. "Yeah, between the circus thing and finding my ex-boyfriend menacing my..." She trailed off. "My to-be-determined..."
"You hopeless romantic, you."
"...I haven't thought about Tara all day."
Xander smiled before he could stop. "It's a weird coincidence, isn't it?" he said, trying to cover. "I mean, we were trying to give each other a little space, and..."
"Yeah, yeah, we land smack-dab in the Bermuda Love Triangle." Willow frowned. "Call Ripley."
"What for? There's no aliens."
"Not that Ripley." Willow sighed. "I'm gonna order some food. You want anything?"
"Yeah, you order for me. I'm gonna take a shower."
He waited until the water was running to burst out laughing at the thought of Oz in a cage.



The smell was going to drive him nuts. This was the third bar Rory had been in today, and he was getting a contact buzz from the alcohol in the air. His fingers were furiously playing with the 60 day AA chip in his pocket as he listened to conversations, talked to people, and tried anything to find out where he could see a werewolf fight.
So far, he was coming up snake-eyes. He didn't dare talk to his contacts at the Aquapolis; word might get back to Ledbetter, and then his career would be in the shitter yet again. There were only so many chances in Las Vegas, and Rory had an idea that he didn't have many left.
"Seltzer again," he said to the bartender.
"Sure you can handle it, pal?" the bartender said with a smirk.
Rory glared at him and took the drink. The bartender moved away, lamenting the loss of his tip. Rory looked around, trying to figure out who to talk to next. Did any of these people look like they frequented supernatural battles to the death? This was Vegas, anything was possible...
Then he saw the two women sitting at a booth. They were talking to a man whose crewcut and profile immediately reminded Rory of a cop. Casually, he stood and sauntered over to the booth.
"...so that's when I found Jesus," Laura was saying. "Now, Officer Kolchak-you know what, do you mind if I call you Paul? Paul, the reason we wanted to meet with you is because of the wonderful work you've done with the LVPD Charity Council."
"There's a lot of people eating healthily tonight because of you," Tracy added earnestly.
"Well, heck, ladies," Detective Paul said. "That's my job, collecting for the fund is all..."
Rory grinned. It was perfect.
"...and we think you can do the same for our charity, the Las Vegas Women Against Poverty." Laura smiled as genuinely as she could. "There are so many women in this city who lead lives of desperation, Paul. Women who need monetary help."
Rory could guess which women they were talking about.
"Women who need you, Paul," Tracy finished. "With your fundraising skills, we'll be able to meet our goal in no time!"
"I'd certainly like to be of help," Paul said. "But I must say, I haven't heard of any of these charities here in your references. What exactly is the Fund of the Crippled Mantis, anyway?"
"Oh, uh, we worked for these people who were collecting used wheelchairs..."
"And this fund here, I just don't know if-"
"Sisters!" Rory suddenly cried. He walked up to the booth and bent to embrace Laura, who was sitting on the outside. "How good to see you again! I trust you've been keeping up your good works?"
Laura and Tracy stared back, open-mouthed. Rory relished the feeling for a moment, then turned to Officer Paul.
"They certainly don't like to toot their own horns, but you're in the presence of a pair of living saints!" Rory proclaimed. "Pleased to meet you. The name's Raoul Heem, and I'm with the Sunnydale Coalition for the Physically Unfortunate."
"Oh, uh...pleased to meet-"
Rory whirled back to the women at the speed of lies. "Ladies, I can't thank you enough for all the work you did before you left! Why, do you know, little Sanji's harelip has been completely healed? And it's all thanks to your efforts!"
"Th-thank you," Laura finally said. "Say there, Brother Heem, could I talk to you over here for a moment?" She stood, looking furious.
"She's shy," Rory whispered to Officer Paul. "We'll be right back!"
Laura led Rory a short distance away, glaring daggers all the way.
"Look, pal, just because you got touched for a couple hundred is no reason to-"
"No reason?" Rory snarled. "No reason?! You left me naked and spread-eagled!"
"Oh, like you've never done that to a woman." Laura sighed. "We don't have your money, if that's what you want."
"It's not. I laid it on thick out there because I'm hoping you two can help me out."
"With what?"
"There's a fight going on tonight. Something called Ultimate Underworld Fighting."
Laura blinked. "Okay."
"You get me four tickets, I'll call it square. You don't...well, Ossifer Paul gets something very interesting in his mailbox."
Laura did a slow burn for a few moments before sticking out her hand.
"Deal. Shake on it."
Rory did so, noticing her wrist as he did so.
"And I want my watch back!"



The sight was incongruous; a collection of beautiful people in the basement of a parking garage, all of them being marched down a long hallway into the concrete arena. Buffy, Willow, Xander and Rory, all dressed in their best, were part of the line.
"So what's the plan?" Xander asked.
"We do the split-up thing," Buffy replied in a whisper. "We're going to have to sneak around and find him. Rory, you stay in the stands. If all else fails, I'll just have to rescue him in the ring."
"Do you guys do this kind of thing a lot?" Rory asked.
"No," Willow replied. "Usually it's a lot more dangerous."
At the door, they showed their ill-gotten tickets to a bald man with fresh grease burns on his face. Vin pointed out their seats, and they got a good look at the place. It was set up like a small gladiator arena; there was still a purple blotch on the wall, the last remains of Nozev of the Many Tentacles. The seats were a slight step up from movie theater seats, but not by much.
"What, no cup holders?" Willow asked.
"It looks like there's 'backstage' entrances there and there," Buffy said, pointing them out. "Xander, you take the right. I'll take the left. Willow, there's a concession stand near the back of the theater. Check it out."
"Roger-dodger," Xander muttered. "Be careful."
"You too," Willow said, reaching out for his hand.
"Uh...if one of us runs into Oz, might be better if we don't have your scent," Buffy said.
Xander looked at her. Then, he reached out to take Willow's hand...but she drew it away before he could touch her.
"She's right. Just be careful."
"I'll be careful," Xander said. He turned on his heel and stalked off, his anger growing.



Buffy's method was subtle.
"Hi!" she said as she walked up to the guard to the backstage entrance. "Hey, is this where you keep the monsters?"
"Welllll, we like to call 'em performers," said the shaved-bald black man. "You, uh, interested in that sort of thing?"
"Ohhhh, yeah," Buffy said, grinning. "One of my friends back home, she was into the whole demon-worship thing..."
Willow's method was subtler.
"Excuse me, young man," she said to the guy working the popcorn stand, who couldn't possibly have been a year older than she. She flashed her UCSD card at lightning speed. "Health department. I'm going to have to take a look at your back room."
"Uh...uh..." The boy flushed crimson. "I don't know if...I need to talk to my supervisor."
"Well, I'd go talk to him if I were you!" Willow barked. She smiled as the boy ran off to find an authority figure. She waited a moment, then slipped behind the counter and headed to the back room.
Xander's method was not terribly subtle.
"Hey, buddy, your shoelace is untied."
"It is? Hey, it is! ThaOOOOF!"
Xander dragged the fallen guard out of sight and walked backstage. He stayed to the shadows. He saw something that looked like a pig-man ramming its head against the wall, apparently psyching itself up for the fight. There was a chaos demon skipping rope, occasionally getting it caught in his antlers.
He was mildly surprised to see Spike shadow-boxing. Another vampire stood next to him, watching the show. Xander shook his head and continued onward. He started checking doors; most of them were dressing rooms, now abandoned.
One was dark. He groped for a light switch; the fluorescents fluttered into life, revealing Oz, stalking back and forth inside a huge cage with a blanket wrapped around him. He stopped and stared at Xander.
"So help me God, you wolf out on me and I'll leave you here, you fucker..."
"I'm okay, thanks for asking," Oz said. "Is Willow here?"
"Does it look like she's here? Just relax. I'll bring back Buffy. She'll beat the lock."
"Don't leave me! I don't know when I'm supposed to fight!"
"I'm not gonna stay and hold your hand. I'll be right-"
"Wrong."
The doorway was suddenly filled with Lemuel Ledbetter.
"Now this...this is interesting."
Xander got into a fighting stance. "Back off, pal."
"Very interesting indeed," Ledbetter continued. "Think you can take me, boy?"
"I fight vampires and outrun werewolves. No offense, but I think I handle you."
"I see." Before Xander could blink, Ledbetter had a pistol in his fist. "Are you faster than a speeding bullet?"



Spike was taking a last jog around the backstage when he heard Led's voice down the hall. He approached the open door quietly and listened.
"You're not gonna get away with this!" Xander cried. "I've got friends!"
"I sincerely doubt that," Ledbetter said. There was a clank of a cage door being closed.
"What are you gonna do, kill me? People will come looking for me!"
"Kill you...kill you." There was a long pause. "No, I don't think killing you is the right thing to do."
"A slaveowner with morals." That sounded like whatsisname, the wolfboy.
"Watch it, wolfie. After all, I'm giving you both a chance. Mr. Osborne, you just met your opponent for tonight."
"What?!" they both cried.
"Winner walks. The loser...well, I don't think we'll need to worry about the loser, will we?"


Chapter 5 Coming Soon