Part 3

After his freshman lecture ended the next day, Angel ignored the hoards of undergraduates that were asking questions about the subject matter and followed the girl that he suspected of being Buffy down the passageway. He just had to provide evidence, to himself and the others that this Beth Winters was in fact Buffy Summers and that he was not delusional.

And when he'd established that he was correct, he'd... well, he didn't know what he'd do. Actually he did, he'd necessitate a justification for her disappearance from his life in particular after she'd proclaimed to love him. But first he had to prove it, he needed evidence and not just what his love-sick heart and head were telling him.

He looked ahead to the suspect in front of him and became aware that she did not seem to be heading back towards the dorm; in its place she was heading off campus. He stepped up his pursuit and in due course he saw her walk onto the grounds of the Sunnydale Motor Inn and head straight to a room in the back.

He was convinced that he had seen an additional shape in the room, one that give the impression of being entirely too male for his liking. So he snuck up to the door and made an effort to eavesdrop on what was going on inside, his inadvertent jealousy superseding his common sense. He couldn't if truth be told hear anything and then without prior notice he had the sensation of falling, as the door was opened.

Buffy was physically and psychologically exhausted; she'd forgotten precisely how dreadful college was. So when she had been dismissed from class, all she'd genuinely wanted to do was head back to dorm and have a lie-down, but instead she'd had to haul ass over to the motor inn to check in with Dave. She knocked and he ultimately let her inside his tremendously small and disheartening room.

"Hey," she said greeting her buddy and partner with a smile she did not feel.

"Hey Summers," Dave replied as he walked back over to his laptop. "Find out anything new?"

"Nope."

"Same here," Dave replied. "Unless of course you believe in monsters and other such things..."

Buffy was all of a sudden awake and paying attention, "Monsters?"

"Yeah. A couple of rookies swear that they saw the killer and he was a monster," Dave told her laughing. “I thought you’d like that – you know being the slayer and all?”

"I thought the Hellmouth was closed," Buffy muttered to herself.

"Hellmouth?” Dave asked her.

Before she had a opportunity to respond, they both heard a sound at the door, apprehensively they both drew their weapons and Dave opened the door. To Buffy's astonishment Angel fell into the room and landed on the floor with a conspicuous thud. To keep cover Buffy hurriedly concealed her weapon down the back of her jeans and put on her ‘Beth’ face.

"Who are you?" Dave yelled as he pointed his weapon at Angel's head.

Angel looked pleadingly at Buffy, "Buff?"

"I think he's one of my professors," she answered. "But my name's Beth, not Buff."

"Buffy, stop it."

"Huh? Stop what. My name is Beth," Buffy replicated with assurance.

Angel threw his hands up in aggravation, "When you're ready to admit the truth, you know where to find me." Then he staggered away, shooting Dave and her dirty looks over his broad shoulders.

Dave closed the door, "Who was that?"

Buffy sighed sorrowfully, "Just an old boyfriend."

Dave looked at her in incredulity, "*You* used to *date*?"

"Yeah, on occasion."

"Special Agent Nun used to date?" Dave asked again as if repeating the question would change the answer.

"Don't look so traumatized, "Buffy told him. “I was a semi-normal teenager." Dave still just stood there. "Now can we get some work done, before someone else dies?"

"Okay," Dave said coming out of his self-induced catatonic state. He looked at her like she was an alien and said, "Buffy the nun dating...."

Buffy just rolled her eyes and picked up the case file, “So monsters? What kind?”

“The morons were kind of vague,” Dave replied. “Something about the little beastie coming out of the shadows before it attacked.”

“That’s not exactly a help...”

“So... we call him?”

Buffy nodded, “Yep. It’s unfortunately Wesley time.”

When Buffy at the end of the day left Dave's room she was thankful to find that Angel was not skulking around the bushes waiting for her. The case was disturbing her enough without her having to make believe that she was someone else twenty-four hours a day.

She started to head back to the dorm, but made a decision at the last second to go and beat some information out of Willie. After all if the killer was a demon or monster, who better to know what it could be than a sycophantic piece of scum like Willie. However when she arrived there, instead of finding a down-at-heel bar; she found a crammed full and dirt-free karaoke bar. She went inside and was amazed; the place had been through some major changes. Buffy took a seat and was instantaneously set upon by a green demon.

"Hello," he said, "And welcome to Caritas. You're new aren't you?"

"Gee, how could you tell?" Buffy replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him. She thought she recognised his species and that he was no real menace to her so she could just unwind.

The green guy ignored her response, "I'm the host. You want information, you have to sing."

"Sing?"

"Yes... after all dearie, this is a karaoke bar," he told her.

Buffy stared at him, "You're an Anagogic demon aren't you?"

"Yes," he replied staring at her, "How did you know?"

"My watcher talked about all sorts," Buffy told him. “Continuously. He never shut-up... still doesn’t.”

"Watcher? You're the other slayer... the missing one."

"I'm not missing," she told him. “I know where I am.”

The Host was instinctively inquisitive as to what was going on. "Why don't you sing?"

"What?"

"Whatever you want too, sweet-cheeks."

Buffy took a deep breath, "Okay then, let’s do it before I change my mind."

Suddenly she found herself up on stage and wished she had run at the mention of singing,  it was bad enough she could hear herself in the shower and now she was going to subject all of the people and demons in the bar to the horrific sounds.

“Put your hands together people for this little girl,” the host said just before he left the stage.

She took a deep breath and plunged in, praying for it to be over quickly and painlessly – for everyone involved.

//There's a man who leads a life of danger
To everyone he meets he stays a stranger
With every move he makes another chance he takes
Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow//

//Secret agent man, secret agent man
They've given you a number and taken away your name//

//Beware of pretty faces that you find
A pretty face can hide an evil mind
Ah, be careful what you say
Or you'll give yourself away
Odds are you won't live to see tomorrow//

//Secret agent man, secret agent man
They've given you a number and taken away your name//

//Secret agent man, secret agent man
They've given you a number and taken away your name//

//Swingin' on the Riviera one day
And then layin' in the Bombay alley next day
Oh no, you let the wrong word slip
While kissing persuasive lips
The odds are you won't live to see tomorrow//

//Secret agent man, secret agent man
They've given you a number and taken away your name//

//Secret agent man//

When Buffy had at length finished the entire five tortuous minutes of her song, she headed over towards the host for her reward. "Okay. What's in my future?"

"A reunion with some old friends," he told her. At the look on her face he said, "They have information you need."

"So I'm just supposed to walk up to them and say, ‘hey remember me I was your friend and I totally bailed on you about a decade ago’."

The host shook his head at her babble, "No. You're expected to wait until the time is right and then make contact with them."

"Lucky me," Buffy muttered sardonically.

The host took pity on her, "I know what will cheer you up."

"What? Besides the allegedly non-operational Hellmouth opening up and swallowing me and putting me out of my misery?"

"How about a free drink?" he offered for the first time ever.

"Sorry, don't drink."

"Smart girl." He leaned in closer, "Don't worry things work out the way they are meant too, no matter what."

End Part

Lyrics:

Secret Agent Man by Johnny Rivers