Gods And Monsters

Chapter Sixty-six:

"I–I've killed things sometimes." Dawn commented feebly.

Buffy strode into the room, a pouting Andrew in tow.

"I'm not begging." He whined.

"You're like a small dog dancing for snausages." She retorted.

"You don't want me coming along 'cause you think I'm evil."

"He doesn't seem evil, exactly." Vi observed.

Buffy folded her arms across her chest. "He's not evil, but when he gets close to it, he picks up the flavour like a mushroom or something."

"But I'm reformed. I'm like Vegeta on Dragonball Z. I used to be a pure Sayan, and now I fight to for the side of Geku."

Hel frowned. "I don't understand that reference."

Buffy shook her head. "Still not coming."

"It's not fair." Andrew complained petulantly. "Spike just killed people, and he gets to go."

"Spike didn't have free will, and you did." Buffy pointed out.

He sighed. "I hate my free will."

The basement door swung open and Spike sauntered through. "This is where you're all hiding. You ready to go, or what?"

The Potentials greeted him.

Hel stared at floor fixedly, as if examining the tiles.

"Let's go, girls." Buffy instructed. "Grab your weapons."

Rona, Vi, Kennedy and Molly did as they were told and followed Buffy out of the kitchen obediently.

Spike gestured for Hel to take the lead. With a brief smile of appreciation, she proceeded ahead of him. They hung back from the rest of the group, walking side by side, and didn't utter so much as one word to each other. Neither of them felt the compulsion to speak unless they had something to say. They shared the opinion that silence was preferable to banal chit-chat.

Buffy guided the group into a dimly lit, unhygienic-looking bar of questionable standards. It was immediately apparent that the grungy establishment catered to a certain classification of consumer, as the disfigured patrons being served could never be mistaken for human beings.

The Potentials gawked at their foreign surroundings, as did Hel. In the entirety of her existence, the Goddess of Death had never been witness to such a variety of species before.

"This is a bar." Rona laughed.

"Best damn field trip I ever took." Kennedy added, grinning.

"Look, they're all—" Molly began, but was cut off.

"They're demons!" Vi finished for her. "It's a demon bar. It's like a gay bar, only with demons."

One of the patrons at the bar counter stands, swaggering up to Spike. His appearance was similar to that of a walrus, with smaller teeth and long, droopy warts dangling from his face. "Spike! Long time. Nice of you to bring snacks."

"Touch them, and lose your privates." Spike warned.

The demon shrugged off his threat and went on his way.

"I didn't like him." Vi whispered.

"Nice job of blending in, girls." Spike quipped.

"We're a bunch of fifteen year-olds in a demon bar." Rona countered. "How much blending did you think we were gonna do?"

"Look, it's okay." Buffy reassured her. "Usually you come to a place like this, you wanna be seen. You wanna scare someone, or make contact—"

"Or have a strong drink?" Vi suggested hopefully.

"Not usually that." Buffy discouraged.

"You don't drink?" Kennedy inquired.

"Sure I do." Buffy replied honestly at first, but quickly thought twice. "I mean, no. That would be wrong."

"Do they card?" Vi asked her.

"Nope, go ahead." With Buffy's permission, the four girls approached the bar. They were stopped dead in their tracks by her addition of: "Down all the yak urine and blood spritzers you like."

In unison, Spike and Hel smirked as the girls backed away.

"Gross." Vi stated in disgust.

"Got that right. Prices they charge, you could get human blood straight from the body." Spike remarked. When Molly gaped at him, he raised his eyebrows. "Vampire."

"Look, if I come here, it's 'cause I gotta wring some information of something large, scary, drunk, with a room full of friends who don't care much for the Slayer." Buffy explained. "Remember that. Not a being in here wouldn't be glad to rip your throat out."

As if on cue, Clem appeared behind her. "Buffy? Girl, how ya been?"

She spun around, taken aback. "Clem!" She got a good look at his familiar face, the deep wrinkles of his sallow skin sagging. "You look great, so toned." She complimented, embracing him, and withdrew.

Kennedy leaned closer to Rona. "He's ripping out her throat right now." She joked conspiratorially under her breath.