Disclaimer – I own none of the ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ characters, or the story line of ‘Die Hard’. I just mixed the two together in my head, and voila!

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The plane touched down on the runway after leaving New York for L.A hours ago. There was that usual moment just after landing when you let out that sigh of relief that you've made it in one piece. Out of the window he could see the runway speeding by underneath them, as they slowed to pull into the gate. The only thoughts that had been on his mind for the whole journey were that of his wife. They hadn’t seen each other for months. His job as a New York police officer, and her job as a business woman at the Nakatomi corporation in L.A keeping them apart. They had spoken to each other by phone over the past couple of months, but had never gotten to see each other because of the enormous workloads piled on them by their bosses. How he wanted to just hold her in his arms, stroke her long blonde hair, take in the scent of vanilla that covered her body, kiss her soft lips and hold her forever in his arms safe and loved. The time they had to spend apart was getting harder and he didn’t know if he could carry on with it.

Spike McClane was in his early thirties unbelievably good looking, athletic, with platinum blonde hair. His sharp cheekbones and baby blue eyes that changed with his mood, made his face resemble that of an angel’s. He was dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt, with a silky black unbuttoned shirt over the top of it.

Suddenly a voice next to him roused him from his thoughts of his blonde beauty, “You don't like flying, do you?” The voice sounded like one of those telephone salesmen that somehow know to phone you just when your sitting down to dinner or just about to have a shower. Spike turned and looked at the man next to him. Caught, he tensed, holding his arm rests in exaggerated fear. “No, no, where'd you get that idea?” Spike said, his accent betraying that fact that he was not originally from America. His British accent had stayed with him and had not lost any of its originality in the ten or so years he had been living here. He had been born in England, and had moved to Sunnydale, California when he was twenty, where he fell in love with, and married Buffy Summers. They had their first child, Anne within their first year of marriage, and William, their son was born three years later.

Spike gradually realised the man next to him was still talking to him, but this time had a cheesy grin plastered on his face. “Ya wanna know the secret of successful air travel? After you get where you're going, ya take off your shoes and socks. Then ya walk around on the rug barefoot and make fists with your toes.” Spike looked at the man with mock surprise and tiredness, just wishing he could be out of the plane and on his way to see Buffy. “Fists with your toes?” he replied. “Maybe it's not a fist when it's your toes...I mean like this...work out that time zone tension.” The man was now demonstrating to Spike the ‘toe curling’ that he had decided to describe in detail.

“Better'n a cup of coffee and a hot shower for the old jet lag. I know it sounds crazy. Trust me. I've been doing it for nine years.” The salesman finally stopped talking as the plane stopped. ‘about bloody time’ Spike thought to himself. Passengers rose from their seats and started to take down overhead luggage. Spike followed suit but as he opened the door above, the businessman grew pale seeing Spike’s baretta pistol peeking out from his jacket. Recognizing the look, McClane smiled reassuringly. “It's okay.” Spike reached for his belt and showed him his L.A.P.D police bade, “I'm a cop. Trust me. I've been doing it for eleven years.”

The businessman relaxed and moved off. Spike now wrestled down the biggest Teddy Bear FAO Schwartz had to offer. Balancing it, he moved down to another overhead, taking out a black leather duster and an overnight bag. Barely managing all this, he turned and made his way off the plane.

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At the Nakatomi building, the Christmas party was in full swing. The cork in a bottle of Dom Perignon burst, and flew across the room. In the middle of the room a massive Christmas tree, beautifully decorated stood tall and proud, and cheesy Christmas music filled the room, mixed with the excited, and drunken chit chat of the office workers. A Japanese man, mid-fifties stood on a desk holding up the bottle triumphantly and looked out at an adoring audience of junior executives and office personnel. His name was Joseph Takagi, Senior Vice President. of Sales for Nakatomi, a multinational corporation. As he spoke the crowd fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen...I congratulate each and every one of you for making this one of the greatest days in the history of the Nakatomi corporation...”

Further down the corridor, obviously still at work, an attractive business woman in her late twenties was studying a computer printout, heading toward her office. She had long blonde hair, and green eyes that reflected the Christmas lights all around making it seem as though her eyes were the window to the universe. She was dressed in tight dark jeans, and a black strappy shirt with white lace covering the edge above her breasts. Parker Abrams fell into step behind her. He was in his late thirties and Vice President. of Sales. Well-dressed, with stylish, slicked-back hair, he looked and acted very smooth. “What about dinner?” Parker asked her. She sighed and looked at him briefly but kept on walking to her office “Parker, it's Christmas Eve. Families... Stockings...chestnuts...Rudolph and Frosty...those things ring a bell?” As they reached her office they entered, the name plate on her door read ‘Ms Buffy Summers’.

She placed the printouts down on her secretary's desk as Parker piped up again “I was thinking more of roaring fireplaces...mulled wine and a nice brie...” Buffy ignored the come-on, turning to her secretary. She was quite petite, with shoulder length red hair “Willow it's 6:40, you're making me feel like Ebeneezer Scrooge. Go on out to the party, have some champagne.” Willow slowly manipulated herself out of her seat, revealing how enormously pregnant she was. “Thanks Ms Summers.” Willow said gratefully, then rather worried, “Do you think the baby can handle a little sip?
Buffy eyed her “Will, that baby's ready to tend bar.” Parker still hadn’t given up “How about tomorrow night?” Buffy just pointed to the door. He finally got the message and followed Willow out. Buffy reached for the phone on her desk and pressed speed dial 1.

At home five-year old Anne McClane raced her younger brother William to the phone. Both the children had blonde hair and blue eyes. Anne, won the wrestling match, and answered the phone with a sense of importance. “McClane residence. Anne McClane speaking.” Buffy suddenly smiled. It was the first time she had smiled in a long time, speaking volumes about the person hidden under the tough business exterior. “Hello, Anne McClane. This is your mother.” Anne jumped up and down smiling giddily “Mommy! When are you coming home?!” Buffy sighed “Soon. You'll be in bed when I get there, though.” Anne looked disappointed ”Will you come say 'good night'?” “Don't I always, you goose?” Buffy smiled again, clearly enjoying the sound of Anne’s giggling, “Now put Glory on the line, and no searching the house for presents!” Obviously having already done so Anne smiled innocently as if her mother could actually see her. “I didn't look in the front closet under the steps! Is Daddy coming home with you?” Anne asked her mother. On hearing this William started jumping up and down happily “Yeah! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy…” Then he paused” …and a Captain Power!“ Buffy looked to the floor and started playing with a loose strand of hair ”Well, we'll see what Santa and Mommy can do.” Buffy had so hoped that Spike was coming home for Christmas but upon their last conversation, it was unlikely he would be there, something about a backlog of New York scumbags. She took in a breath. “Goose, put Glory on, okay?

Anne handed the phone to a young Salvadorian woman. She put the phone to her ear, “Hello, Mrs. Buffy. You coming home soon?” Glory asked her. “I'm working on it…Did Mr. McClane call?” Buffy asked their housekeeper. “No ma'am.” Came the reply. Buffy hid a trace of disappointment. She tried to sound confident and hopeful “Well...maybe there wasn't time before the flight. I’ll talk to you later Glory” “Yes, Mrs. Buffy, later”

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Spike was now wearing his leather duster and carrying the teddy and his carry on bag. He walked down the American Airlines ramp and into the terminal. Avoiding one near-collision involving the stuffed animal, an act which drove him into another fender bender, he re positioned the items he was carrying and headed into the waiting area. Family reunions were going on all around him as grandparents greeted their children and grand children, young wives greeting uniformed soldiers. Spike watched, moved by the sight, then looked around the waiting area, just on the off chance his family might be waiting. Instead he spotted a thin, gangling black guy in an ill-fitting chauffeur's uniform. As he waited he drummed a rhythm on a "Nakatomi Corporation" card with S. McCLANE written on it in magic marker. Spike paused in front of him, unsure. “I'm Spike McClane.” The black guy spoke “Robin Wood I'm your limo driver. Hey, nice bag.” He turned and started walking. Spike paced him, still juggling the bag and giant animal. “Robin. Don't you take this stuff?” Spike asked, slight irritation showing in his voice. Robin stopped. “Do I? I'm sorry. You're gonna have to help me, man. This is my first time driving a limo.” He smiled sheepishly. Spike smiled back, “That's okay. This is my first time riding in one.”

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In the limo, both Robin and Spike were in the front seats. Spike seemed a little edgy, “Just kick back and relax, man. We got everything you need: CD, CB, TV, VHS, telephone, full bar.” Robin said cheerily. He looked in the back seat, which was occupied by the bear. “If your friend is hot to trot...I know a couple of mama bears…” He stopped and turned to look at Spike, ”...Or is he married?”
Spike smiled and looked at the ring on his ringer. “Married.” Or at least he still hoped so. The last time he and Buffy had spoken, they had argued about how he never spent any time with them any more, and how he might not be able to come home for Christmas.

Spike tried to get comfortable, scowling as a rustling noise revealed wrappers and empty packets of snacks. He scowled at Robin, who tried to look as innocent as possible. “The girl was off today. Hey, I didn't expect you to sit up front. So, your lady live out here?” Spike was getting tired of Robins constant chatter. “The past six months.” Robin stopped and thought for a few seconds. “Meanwhile, you still live in New York?” ‘Well he’s a bright one isn’t he’ Spike thought to himself. “You're nosey, you know that, Robin?” Spike sighed in exasperation. ”Hey, I'm sorry. When I was a cabdriver, see, people expected a little
chit chat, a little eccentricity and comaraderie, I forgot how stuck up you limo guys were, so excuse me.” This lightened the mood a little, and Spike began to find Robin rather amusing. “It's okay, it's okay.”

As soon as Spike stopped speaking, Robin resumed, “So, you divorced of what?” Spike finally gave up, and decided to answer his questions as briefly as he could. “She had a good job, it turned into great career.” Spike said solemnly. Robin followed almost instantly “But meant her moving here.” “Closer to Japan. You're fast.” Spike said . “So, why didn't you come?” Robin asked. “'Cause I'm a New York cop and I got six months backlog of New York scumbags I'm still trying to put behind bars. I don't just get up and move.”
“You mean you thought she wouldn't make it out here and she'd come crawling on back, so why bother to pack?” Spike grinned, he liked Robin even if he was a little too direct. “Like I said, Robin...you're fast.”

Robin reached down and pulled out a cassette, placing it in the player on the dash. “Mind if I play some tunes?” A hard rap song blasted from the speakers. Spike cringed, “How 'bout some Christmas music?” Robin just looked as cheerful as ever, “That is Christmas music.” He said, while drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and bopping his head along to the beat. Spike gave up as, the Fat Boys of Run DMC doing a revisionist number on ‘White Christmas’ or something blared through the speakers. He gave up, and turned to staring out the window trying to ignore the music, if you could call it that!

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The limo pulled up outside the Nakatomi building. It loomed over them and the shiny windows glinted as they caught the last rays of the setting sun. As Robin stopped the limo outside the front entrance, he got out. Spike let himself out, which was fine because Robin hadn’t remembered he was supposed to do it. They both went to the rear of the vehicle.

“So, you go on upstairs to the party, your lady sees you, you run into each other's arms. Music comes up, you live happily ever after, that it?” Robin said. Spike smiled “It's corny, but I could live with it.” Robin still hadn’t opened the trunk “What if it don't work out that way? Where you gonna stay?” Spike sighed “I'll find someplace.”

He looked up at the high-rise lit by huge spotlights, then back at Robin who still made no attempt to open the trunk. “ Tell you what. I'll pull into the parking garage and wait. You score with your wife give me a call on the car phone and I'll leave your bags inside at the desk. You strike out... I'll get you to a hotel.” He handed Spike a business card with the number on it. Spike took the card. “You're all right, Robin.” “Just remember that when you sign for the tip.” He pointed to the building
“They're paying for it, so don't be shy.” Spike laughed and headed inside.

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Spike walked into the building, and entered the lobby, which seemed deserted. Suddenly a sound in the sterile lobby revealed the presence of a security guard hidden behind a massive desk. Spike walked up to the desk to sign in. He spoke to the guard behind the desk, “Buffy McClane” The Guard pointed to a prominent touch screen computer console, clearly peeved that he was working on Christmas eve. ”Just type it in there.” Spike was confused for a moment, then he moved to the screen. He looked at the who Guard raises his eyebrows as to say ‘give it a try’.

He pressed the letter ‘M’ on the touch pad, and a list of employees with surnames beginning with ‘M’ appeared on the screen. The first screen listed no ‘McClane’, so Spike pressed the ‘next screen’ button. The last few employee’s with ‘M’ surnames came up, but there was no ‘McClane’
Spike was puzzled, and thought for a few seconds, then sighed. Now back on the original screen he pressed ‘S’ and a list of ‘S’ surnames came up. “Jesus Christ” Spike mumbled to himself, running a hand through his slicked back platinum locks as he saw ‘Buffy Summers’ listed under the names. He pressed the ‘SUMMERS, Buffy’ icon and an elevation of the building and then a floor plan of the 30th floor came up with Buffy's office flashing on the screen. ”Cute toy.” Spike said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Yeah. When you have to take a leak it'll help you find your zipper.” The guard said. “Thirtieth floor...” Spike asked “Take the express elevator and get off at the noise.” The guard told him.

Spike nodded and walked off. He move to the elevators, and as he did so his experienced eye took in another security guard patrolling a different area, several high tech cameras and sensors, which are cleverly worked into the decor of the lobby. Spike McClane reacted with bored professionalism, nodding to the guard.
“Lots of hardware...” The guard simply shrugged shrugs. Spike got in the elevator and hit the "30" button, as the doors closed and he started to climb the floors and He rotated his head, getting out the travel cricks. The same thing going over and over in his head, ‘Buffy Summers, not Buffy McClane or even Buffy Summers McClane’.

As he approached the 30th floor a tremendous thumping, throbbing noise could be heard even through the thick steel doors. Spike stopped and listened before he
realised it was the Christmas party. As the doors open the noise filled the elevator and Spike stepped out into the overcrowded floor.

He moved around the edge of the party, gradually spiralling inward. He grabbed a glass of Mimosa champagne punch from a passing tray, sipped it...and scowled. ‘Why can’t they just settle for a bloody simple Jack D. Spotting open beers in
an ice bucket, he tossed the punch into a potted plant, even burying the plastic glass. Sipping the beer, he moves through the dense party. Suddenly he was attacked by people he didn't even know throwing streamers over him.

A woman kissed him on the cheek as does a man who is clearly as pissed as hell before moving on. He shook his head ‘California...’ Finally he found someone who didn’t want to thrown themselves over him. He queried her, the music drowning out what they were saying but she but she nodded all the same, pointing off in some generic direction.

Spike headed that way, cutting around a Christmas tree, losing his bearings. He sees Joseph Takagi, not knowing who he is, but sensing an air of authority about him. He went up to him.” Excuse me, I'm looking for…” But Takagi finished for him “Buffy Summers” Spike was astonished, “Yeah. How'd you know?” Takagi smiled, “I've spent half my life on airplanes, I can recognize someone who just got off one.” He shook Spike’s hand ”I'm Joe Takagi, Mr. McClane. I have...something to do with this company.” Spike laughed “So I've heard.” Takagi smiled, leading the way.

As they approached Buffy's office door, Spike noticed the name there is -- again – ‘Summers’. “Buffy went to the Vault room to FAX some documents...she should be back any...” Mr Takagi stopped as they entered Buffy’s office and saw Parker behind the desk, sniffing something and just as they come in he swept the back of the slick desktop with his hand. Both Spike and Takagi catch on...but Takagi tried to hide
his awareness. Parker tried to come up with an excuse, but did rather a poor job “Ah...hi...I just had to make a quick call, and this was the nearest phone...” As Parker rose from the seat, Mr Takagi spoke. “Parker, this is Spike McClane...” Then continuing with meaning in his voice, Buffy's policeman?” Mr Takagi turned to Spike “Parker Abrams is in charge of International Acquisitions.” Spike shook hands with Parker, he already didn’t like this guy. ”That explains the recent deal with Bolivia.” Spike quipped. Parker reacted, running a checking finger under his nose. “Relax, Parker. I'm off duty.” Mr Takagi was eager to change the subject, and turned to Spike. “Can I get you anything? Food? Cake? Watered down champagne punch?” Spike grinned “I'm fine.” Then looking through the glass he said “You throw quite a party. I didn't know they had Christmas in Japan.” Takagi smiled “Hey, we're flexible. Pearl Harbour didn't work out, we got you with tape decks.”

Spike laughed, god he wished his boss was as funny and laid back as this guy. Buffy was a lucky woman. Parker spoke again, much to Spike’s annoyance. “Actually, it's kind of a double celebration. We closed a pretty big deal today and a lot of it was due to Buffy.

Just then the door opened and Buffy stepped in thinking that it was just Mr Takagi in the room. Spike’s heart leapt when he saw her, it had been too long. “All set, Joe. The contracts went over the wire, and…Spike” Buffy stopped as she saw him, standing there. What was he doing here, and had he been working out?! God he looked good.
The sound of the party drowned out and he felt like he was falling, and he wanted to land next to her and hold her close.
She finally found her voice again “I was hoping you made that flight.” Spike replied quietly “I was hoping you were hoping that.” Buffy laughed and walked over to him. She touched his hand with hers and leant up to place a light kiss on his lips. They both felt the familiar electricity flow through them when their bodies touched.
She stepped back, and Spike looked her up and down. She looked amazing, better than amazing. She was the vision of perfectness to him. How could he have spent so much time away from this woman. Mr Takagi spoke and interrupted his thoughts. “Your wife's made for this business. She know how to drive a hard bargain.” Spike smiled, “Yeah. I remember our first date.” Buffy looked at him and a small smile played on her lips. “Show him the watch.” Parker interrupted, no thought to what was going on between these two people. ‘way to spoil a moment you git’ Buffy though, and smiled internally as she realised how she’d picked up on Spike’s insults over the years. She hesitated. “Go on, show him. “What're you, embarrassed?” Parker turned to Spike, “A little token of our appreciation for all her work.” Parker took her wrist and held it up. Spike smoothly took Buffy’s wrist from Parker’s grasp, and looked at the watch. “Nice, but one of us is three hours out of sync. I think it's me.” He looked at Buffy pointedly. ”Is there a place I can wash up?” Buffy was happy for an excuse, “Sure. Follow me.” Spike followed Buffy into her private bathroom, as Takagi ushered Parker out of the office. Unbeknown to them, things were starting to happen that would change the course or their lives forever…

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An Emory freight truck turned off Olympic Blvd into the underground garage of Nakatomi. It travelled down the ramp and passed Robin's black limo but the drivers seat was empty. Robin was sitting in the back seat hidden from the outside world by the tinted rear windows. He made himself a drink from the bar with the TV on and his rap music blasting from the cassette player, oblivious to the truck passing behind him.
The Emory truck stopped in front of the service elevator on the next level down. As the truck stood inactive, the uniformed driver made a note on his clipboard.

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Spike sat on top of the closed toilet seat, his shoes now removed he was clenching and unclenching his toes. The tension in his body started to actually flow away. “Son-of-a-bitch. It works.” Spike laughed to himself.

In her office Buffy sat on the desk watching Spike remove his duster, and both of his shirts. Her heart lurched in her chest as she saw the muscles under his shirt, well toned, firmer and stronger than she remembered, What was she doing, keeping herself from this man. She couldn’t keep doing this pretending she was ok with the distance that kept them apart. ”What are you doing?” Buffy asked him. “It's a long story. You know, I that Parker has his eye on you.” Buffy smiled. “That's okay...” Spike’s stomach sank, has she started developing feelings for someone else? “... I have an eye on his private bathroom.” Buffy finished and Spike’s stomach returned to its normal position. “So, where are you staying? This all happened so fast I didn't even ask you on the phone.” Spike finished drying his face and stepped to the bath doorway. ” Well, Cappy Roberts retired out here a couple years ago. He said I could bunk with him.” Buffy felt disappointment rip through her.”Oh...Where does he live?” “Ramona...no, Pomona, that's it.” Spike said. “Pomona! You'll be in the car the whole time...Look, let's make this easy. Come home. The kids would love to
have you at the house.” Buffy said. ”They would huh?” Spike asked her. “I would too.” Buffy said quietly. They locked eyes for a instant, an intense moment that
says a lot about how they still feel about each other. Just then a man and a woman, both a little tipsy, opened the door to the office, seeing that it's occupied make a hasty retreat. The interruption temporarily dents the mood. Buffy tries to smile, but for Spike it's the last frustration. “I've missed you.” Buffy whispered “Especially my name. You must miss it every time you write a check. When did you start calling yourself just 'Ms. Summers’'?” Caught, she answered him. “This is a Japanese company, you know? They figure a married woman, she's on the way out the door...” Spike interrupted her, “Sure. It's unnerving. I remember this one particular married woman, she went out the door so fast there was practically a jetwash...I mean, talk about your wind chill factor...” Buffy sighed, ”Didn't we have this same conversation in July? Damn it, Spike, there was an opportunity out here -- I had to take it …” “No matter what it did to our marriage -- ?” Buffy was getting annoyed now. “My job and my title and my salary did nothing to our marriage except change your idea of what it should be.” Spike stepped further into the room. ”Oh, here it comes. One of those 'meaningful relationship conversations.' I never should've let you get those magazine subscriptions –“ Buffy lost it then. “You want to know my idea of a marriage? It's a partnership where people help each other over the rough spots -- console each other when there's a down...and when there's an up, well, hell, a little Goddamn applause or an attaboy wouldn't be too bad.” Buffy took in a breath, then continued quietly. ”I deserved that. I needed that, I needed you Spike.” A tear rolled down her cheek. Spike steps towards her. “I’m sorry I didn’t…” Just then the door opens and Willow leans inside. ”Miz Summers? Mr. Takagi is looking for you...he wants you to say something to the troops...” Buffy looked up at her. “Thanks, Willow. I'll be a second. “ Willow nods and leaves the room. Buffy turned back to Spike “I'll be a few minutes. Wait here –“ She smiles at him. She is about to leave, when Spike grabbed her arm lightly, he ran the tip of his finger under her eyes to wipe away the mascara that had run from the tears. “Don't I always?” She turned and walked out of the room. Immediately, Spike slapped his forehead, contrite. ”Schmuck!”
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The Guard at the front desk notices the Emory truck on his monitor and continues to watch and only half notices a Mercedes pulling up in front of the
building and two extremely well-dressed business men in their late twenties climb out and start up the stairs for the door, and cross the lobby to sign it at the guard’s desk. One of the men, called Theo was animatedly chatting to the other guy, Karl. ”So, Kareem rebounds -- listen, this is a great play -- feeds Worthy on the break, over to A.C., to Magic, back to Worthy in the lane and…” Suddenly Karl pulls out a Walther pistol with a silencer and aims it at the Guard's forehead. Before the
Guard can react he pulls the trigger. Theo yells ironically “Boom...two points!
Theo vaults over the desk , kicking over the dead security guard in the process. Karl moves behind the desk, stepping over a small pool of blood from the Guard. Karl is big, with long blond hair like a rock drummer. Karltakes off the silencer and looks at the video monitor of the Emory truck. Theo, opens his briefcase, takes out a portable CB radio and speaks into it. “We're in.”

The truck driver nods at the security camera as several men climb out of the rear of the van and begin unloading wooden crates by the service elevator.

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McClane looks at all the lavishness around him and picks up a phone by the toilet, while pulling his t-shit back on He opens his wallet and takes out the number Robin gave him. A photo of his children stops him. It's of Buffy, Anne, William and himself in happier days, six months ago, before Nakatomi came calling to Buffy's door. Spike flips it over. On the back in crude but painstaking
hand of a five-year-old it says: WE MISS YOU, DADDY. LOVE ANNE (and in more primitive letters) WILLIAM.
Spike returned the photo to his wallet, and dialled the number.

Meanwhile down in the lobby…
Theo enters the small control room and comfortably sits behind a maintenance keyboard. Whistling a vaguely familiar tune, he typed in some commands and locked down the passenger elevators up to the 30th floor. Then with several more computer commands, he systematically causes, the heavy steel gates to the parking garage to close and the escalators to the garage to come to a stop. Theo finishes typing and disconnects the keyboard and pulls out the wires from beneath the panel.
The doors to a service elevator open to reveal Adam Walsh impeccably dressed, lean and handsome, he steps out into the lobby like he owns the building.
Theo steps to the door of the control room and tosses Adam a computer card
Adam went to the front door and the card over a magnetic plate. An LED blinks and the door locks with a thud. Adam looked out at the street. Appropriately enough, "not a creature is stirring." Century City is quiet.


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An elevator opened revealing ten more men, all armed with Kalashnikov machine guns are carrying canvas kit bags. One of them, Eddie, a rugged American in his twenties, went to the dead guard and immediately began changing into his cloths.

Meanwhile…

Karl took a tool case from the elevator and joined his brother Tony, playfully grabbing him. They head for the basement stairwell as Theo leaves the control room and nods to Adam. Eddie finished adjusting buttons and snapped on his
pilfered uniform, takes his position behind the front desk.

Adam looked down at his watch and seemed pleased. He stepped into the service
elevator with the others and pressed the button for the 30th floor. The entire sequence couldn’t have taken more than sixty seconds.

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Spike was still barefoot, his jeans now rolled up above his ankles. He stretches his toes again and lights up a new Marlboro, before dialling a number on the bathroom phone.

In the building basement Tony stood in front of an intimidating matrix of phone lines – but what he had in mind wouldn’t require a doctorate in Electrical
Engineering. Karl came over, giving his an elder brother a punch on the arm, pointing out what to do. Together they focus on four CPV plastic conduits which run out of the main panel over their heads. Tony nods, opening a case revealing a compact electric chainsaw.

In the bathroom, Spike final managed to get through to Robin. “Hey, Spike, what's the word on you and your lady?” “The vote's not in yet.” Spike replied simply “'Vote's not in yet?' What's that supposed to mean.” Robin asked. Spike sighed. “What do you want, 'All My Children'? We're making progress. After I get my foot out of my mouth, we'll really be cooking, and then I can…” The phone line went dead as Karl cut through all four tubes. Spike gently tapped the phone cradle, but heard no dial tone. Robin looked confused, ”What?...Mr. Mac, you there?” He turned down the music that was blaring away but there is on one on the line. Then he spoke to himself. “Well, call me back, Spike. You got the number.” He hung up and turned the volume back up.

Spike hung up the original phone and then tried the other one on the desk. It, too, was dead.

In the service elevator, Adam and the others approached the 30th floor. As they grew closer, the noise of the speakers grew louder and louder. The men cocked their weapons and braced themselves as the car stopped and the elevator doors open. They piled out and began firing their guns into the air.

In the office, Spike heard the gun shots and screams and grabbed his shoulder harness off the back of the chair, moving quickly to the doorway. He looked down the hall. He could see , two terrorists armed with M-5 machine guns searching the offices on the hall one by one. They opened a door, looked in from the hallway, and moved on quickly to the next.

They were four offices away and moving fast. Spike looked across the corridor and saw the stairwell door, too far to reach without being seen He stepped back, throwing off the safety on his Beretta and braced himself. ‘Shit, shit, shit where’s Buffy?’ He opened the door, peering through a crack and Spike's eyes scanned their weapons...he was totally outgunned, and he knew it. Looking further down the hallway, it was as though he saw everything in slow motion. He saw the swish of blonde hair, and Buffy turned her head back while being forced forwards by some terrorist with a machine gun. Her eyes locked with Spike’s in a desperate last plea of ‘I love you’ before the terrorist pushed her around the corner. ‘God, no Buffy,’

The two terrorists Franco and Fritz reached the office just before Buffy’s and threw
open the door revealing the man and woman who interrupted Buffy and Spike a few minutes before, now in the throes of passionate lovemaking on the desk. The two terrorists smiled at each other, then entered the office. A moment later the man, (trying desperately to pull up his pants) and the woman (buttoning her blouse) were pushed out into the hall and toward the larger group by Fritz. The other terrorist, Franco, went to Buffy’s office and opens the door.

It was...empty.

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Ok so I was watching Die Hard the other day and thought it would be a great idea to rewrite it, Spuffy style. What did you think?

(AN-: if you are reading my other fic, 'Can I Keep You', i have a little more of the next chaoter to write and i will post it as soon as it is done, possibly by the end of today.)

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Spike managed to slip through the offices unnoticed until he reached one far enough away from the chaos that had erupted. He ran to the door that opened out into the corridor. He opened it slightly ajar and peered out along the hallway. He could see two terrorists with machine gun’s guarding anyone’s escape to the lifts. He could no longer see the hostages, could no longer see Buffy. ‘Oh god what if she was hurt, what if she was dying what if she was…’ no he couldn’t let himself think of that. He had to get help. He was outgunned and there was no way he could take them all on by himself. And he didn’t even know if that terrorists who were rounding up the employees were the only ones. When he thought it was safe to go he ran across the hallway and slipped as quietly as possible into the stairway across the hall.

Still in bare feet he padded quickly up the concrete stairs two at a time. He ascended the stairs keeping low. He reached the 31st floor immediately above the main Nakatomi lobby. Spike pushed the door open just enough so that he could see out into the hallway. Theo and Kristoff were wheeling carts of equipment along the corridor. Spike ducked back into the stairwell, and ran up another flight and out onto and unfinished floor, soon to be one large secretarial pool, but only a portion was completed. Half-finished partitions and office furniture in its original plastic wrappings lay everywhere. At one end there were a few lonely finished working areas.

Spike moved quickly to a desk and picked up a phone. It too was out. “Shit...” Spike cursed and looked out the window at: the neighbouring buildings. “Think...” Spike told himself.

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Down on the 30th floor, the employees had been herded to the centre of the room where the desks had been pulled back. Many people were whimpering and crying, obviously scared shitless. Buffy looked desperately around the room for Spike. The last she’d seen of him he had been in her office peering out of a crack in the doorway. Had they found him, was he with the other hostages? Oh god, what if he was hurt, dying or even… she never got to apologise for yelling at him. Would never get to hold him again, feel him touch her body in only ways he could. He could make her shiver just by saying her name. So intent on looking for Spike she didn’t see one terrorist waving her forward. Exasperated, he shoved her towards the frightened employees.

As the employees were bunched together, Parker sought out Buffy. He was clearly scared but tried to fake courage. He patted her hand "reassuringly."

Adam stepped up on top of a desk and looked over the group. He reached into a pocket...several people shrunk away into the walls of the room...but what he came out with was a Bottega Venata pocket notebook. He checked his own scribblings like a dais speaker. Then he spoke ain a soothing, calm voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, due to the Nakatomi Corporation's legacy of greed around the globe, it is about to be taught a lesson on real power. You...will be witnesses. If our demands are not met, however…” he smiled sadly, “…you may become participants instead.” He stopped and checked his note pad. “Now, where is...'Takagi'? Where is
the man who...” Adam smirked “...used to be in charge here?”

Takagi was shoved forward. He was worried but far from cowed. Adam stepped towards him, extending a hand, and spoke quite civilly. ”Mr. Takagi. How do you do. My name is Adam Walsh.” Takagi was confused by his charm. Adam waved politely in the direction of an elevator and with an armed escort took the executive away.

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Spike paused outside the stairwell door to the 33rd floor, he pressed the handle and cracked the door open to reveal a computer floor. The computer machinery droned on under the lights behind plate glass windows. Spike quietly closed the door and moved to another floor, mumbling to himself as he ascended, “32 construction...33 computers...”

In a service elevator Adam, Takagi, Karl and Tony were riding silently. Adam alone
seemed relaxed, whistling a part of Wagner, then he stopped and Spoke to Takagi. “Nice suit. John Philips...London?” Takagi just stared at him speechless. Adam smiled. “I have two myself.” The lift doors opened and Adam exited, followed by Takagi who was pushed out by the other two terrorists. ”I'm told Arafat shops there too...”

In the stairwell Spike started to open the stairwell door to the Machine Floor when a noise above him got his attention. He moved silently up one flight to the roof. Quietly, he cracked the door and looked out onto a Machine Floor on the lower level of the roof.
Three terrorist, James, Uli and Heinrich, were unpacking wooden crates from the service elevator. Spike wasn’t clear on what they were doing but it seemed very military like and ominously defensive. Heinrich pointed up to the ceiling and spoke something in German. The others nodded. Heinrich turned just as Spike closed the door and slipped back down the stairs.

Adam entered a conference room on the board floor. “And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept. For there were no more worlds to conquer” He looked at Takagi. “The benefits of a classical education.”

Adam admired a scale model of a bridge. Behind him were photographs of the gorge where the bridge was to be constructed. Karl and Tony listened as Takagi watched. “It's beautiful. I always enjoyed models as a boy. The exactness, the attention to every foreseeable detail...perfection.” Takagi spoke defensively. “This is what this is about? Our building project in Indonesia? Contrary to what you people think, we're going to develop that region... not 'exploit' it..”
Adam straightened and adjusted his jacket.. “I believe you.” The he smiled with an evil menace. “I read the article in Forbes.”

Takagi was confused. Adam placed a friendly arm around Takagi's shoulders and guided him into the adjacent board room where Theo was busy typing commands into a built-in computer console. “Mr. Takagi, we could discuss industrialization of men's fashions all day, but I'm afraid my associate, Mr. Theo, has some questions for you. Sort of fill-in-the blanks questions actually...” Adam gestured in the direction of the computer screen and Takagi saw…

NAKATOMI CORPORATION.
BOARD WORKSTATION.
ENTER CENTRAL COMPUTER CODE KEY _ _ _ _.

…displayed on the screen. Theo sat fingers poised over the keyboard as Adam walked calmly over to the opposite side and sat down. Takagi stood like the accused at the foot of the table. “I don't have that code...!” Takagi spoke again directly to Adam “You broke in here to access our computer?!? Any information you could get -- they wake up in Tokyo in the morning, they'll change it! You won't be able to blackmail our executives or threaten…” He was cut off by Adam barking him to silence. “SIT DOWN!”

Takagi complied, just as Adam became abruptly compassionate and quiet.. ”Mr. Takagi...I'm not interested in your computer…I'm interested in the 640 million dollars in negotiable bearer bonds you have in your vault.. Yes...I know about them. The code key is a necessary step in accessing the vault..” Takagi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You want...money? What kind of terrorists are you?” Adam smiled, clearly amused ”Who said we were terrorists?”

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Spike exited the stairwell onto the same floor as Takagi, Adam and his ‘minions’. Spike tiptoed along, gun held ready. He could hear the mumble of voices from the conference room and moved slowly towards it.. ‘where the hell were the police, surely the security guards downstairs had witnessed the whole attack on their monitors, unless they were…’ Spike concentrated on making as little noise as possible as he slowly made his way towards the voices.

Back in the conference room, Adam slowly took out his Walther and his silencer. He felt his silencer a moment, as if making a decision, then slipped it back into his coat pocket., then weighing the gun he spoke calmly and directly to Takagi. The code key, please...?” Takagi sat up confidently. “It's useless to you! There's seven safeguards on our vault, and the code key is only one of them! You'll never get it open!” Adam lifted the gun. “Then there's no reason not to tell it to us.” Theo spoke aside to Karl. “I told you...” “It's not over...” Karl replied. Adam gave them both a look like an annoyed schoolmaster before turning back to Takagi. “This is too nice a suit to ruin, Mr. Takagi. I'm going to count to three. There will not be a four. Give me the code.” Adam cocked the gun and aimed at Takagi. “I don't know it! Get on a Goddamn jet to Tokyo and ask the chairman! I'm telling you! You're just going
to have to kill me…” Then Adam spoke a little too quickly “Okay.” His finger tightened around the trigger and the bullet was released from its capsule and shot straight though the object in front of it…Takagi’s skull.

Outside, Spike’s senses suddenly went on high alert as he heard a single gun shot. He looked to the office to see red blood splattered across the glass doors, gravity pulling it slowly down the glass, leaving behind it a red trail of the Takagi’s blood. Spike stealthily crept towards the door and saw Takagi still seated, but the chair flat on its back, blood flowing out into the carpet..
Adam sprang to his feet “We do it the hard way! Tony, see if you can dispose of that.” He said gesturing towards the body. “Karl, you'd better check Heinrich's work up on the machine floor.” Karl, in the midst of handing Theo a fifty dollar bill, obviously not pleased that he had lost the bet as to when Takagi was going to be shot, nodded and got up to leave.

Spike was now outside the door and looked at Takagi’s lifeless form from his hiding place. Suddenly he saw Adam move and tried to retreat further away from the office, in the hopes of not being the next victim of the terrorists. As he did so his gun bumped the underside of the table. The noise echoed through the empty room and reverberated off the walls. The noise sounded a lot louder to Spike than it did in reality, but it was as though his senses were supernatural and every noise was as if it were coming from merely inches away from his ear.

Inside the office Adam heard the noise out in the hall and went to move but not before Karl, who sprung through the door to find the hallway deserted. He checked two adjoining rooms, the first being deserted, the second, locked. Upon finding nothing he returned to Adam “Nothing”. Adam nodded. “See to Heinrich...” He turned to Theo, “Now...you can break the code key...?” Theo looked up at Adam and grinned “You didn't bring me along for my charming personality.” He got up and headed for the elevator and spoke under his breath, “Though you could have…” Adam smiled, confident in his team, and followed Theo into the elevator. 71 INSIDE THE SUPPLY CLOSET - MCCLANE 71

Inside the supply closet Spike slowly let out a breath, his heart hammering against his chest, praying softly, “Robin. Tell me you heard the shot. Tell me you heard the shot and you're calling the police right now...”

Down in the parking lot Robin was on the car phone and the music from the stereo was blasting away. ”I'm working, honey. Working hard. 'Course I'll be by later to pick you up, have I ever lied to you? My boss? He thinks I'm cruising to Palm Springs...”

On the machine level, Adam removed something from his shoulder bag as he and Theo entered the safe room. The huge corporate safe loomed in front of them. Theo placed three kit bags onto a table and rolled up his sleeves. He swivelled a computer console into handy reach and sat down. “How long?” Adam questioned him. “Thirty minutes to break the code... Two hours for the five mechanicals. The seventh lock...that's out of my hands.” Theo replied. “If our plan works...the FBI will get rid of it for us.” Adam said, a sly grin falling across his face. Theo began to type codes and commands into the computer as Adam left the room.

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Up on the 31st floor, Spike paced the room angry at himself. “Why the fuck didn't you stop him? Because, you ignorant sonofabitch, you'd be dead, too. And then you’d have no way of saving Buffy. Think...think, Goddamnit!” Suddenly Spike looked up at the ceiling and saw a sprinkler head. His look dropped to the wall and he saw a small red fire alarm switch by the door. ‘Bingo’ he thought to himself.

In an L.A fire station an alarm began to ring. Quickly firemen ran to their machines as the voice of the 911 dispatcher filled the room. “Main Wilshire units. Two alarm fire at Nakatomi Plaza…” The voice continued as the station doors opened and the fire engines drove out. On the ground floor of the Nakatomi building, a fire alarm indicator light showing which floor had sounded the fire alarm -- suddenly began flashing, emitting short, loud beeps. Eddie, the terrorist in the guard's uniform and who was manning the station, immediately picked up his CB.

Spike stood at window looking Northward for fire trucks. Suddenly he saw the flashing red lights of 4 engines in traffic about two miles away. “Yes! C'mon, baby...come to Papa. I'm gonna kiss your bloody Dalmatian.”

Adam was now in the elevator and riding back up to the 30th floor with Tony, speaking calmly to Eddie on the CB. Call 911, give them the name and badge number on your uniform and cancel the alarm...then disable the system.” He stopped and then looked at Tony, then pressed the talk button again. “Eddie? What floor did the alarm go off?”

Spike stood silhouetted against the window. In the distance he could see another fire truck swing off Santa Monica onto Avenue of the Stars. Suddenly the red light on the first truck went out, then on the second. ‘What! No, no. Bloody hell. Fuck no!’ The trucks slowed and turned down separate side streets, heading for home. “Son of a bitch...” Spike cried.

Suddenly Spike’s extrovert hearing picked up on the elevator mechanics whirring. Just then the elevator bell rang. Spike’s head whipped round and just as the doors opened he dived under a table. Tony slipped into the shadows, his machine gun drawn. He moved from the elevator area until he reached the light switch and flicked it on, illuminating the entire floor. Tony just caught a glimpse of Spike’s legs disappearing from view.

Under the desk, Spike asserted his options. He could see Tony’s feet moving slowly in his direction. Spike looked down the aisle next to the windows which led to a series of cubicles at the other end of the floor and saw a clear path. If only he could make it past Tony.

Tony moved steadily toward the area where we saw Spike. “The fire has been called off, my friend. No one is coming to help you. You might as well come out and join the others. I promise not to hurt you.” Moving more confidently, he stepped up to Spike’s desk, then around it and fired a blast into the space. It was empty. As the sound of the machine gun faded he listened and heard another sound, a noise coming from the other end of the room near the cubicles.

Tony crept toward the noise. Sensing a trap, he moved past each cubicle carefully, checking each office until he reached the doorway of the last one. The sound is just around the partition. He tensed, then span into the cubicle. A radial arm saw span noisily. He moved to turn it off, not realizing that Spike had turned it on to bury Spike’s movements around the room. Spike stepped up behind Spike and shoved his pistol barrel against Tony's temple. “Freeze, Police...don't move or name your beneficiary.” Tony stood perfectly still, watching him calmly as Spike cocked his Beretta. “You won't hurt me.” Tony said confidently. This man had obviously never met Spike before. Obviously didn’t realise that Spike would go to any lengths to save Buffy. “Yeah? Why not?” Spike questioned him. “Because you are a policeman. There are rules for policemen.” Tony replied smugly. “Yeah. My Captain keeps telling me the same thing.” Spike told him, then pistol whipped him across the head. Tony reeled forwards, then swallowed, suddenly very worried. “Let's go.” Spike commanded him.

Suddenly Tony span to the side and Spike fired at him, but Tony was a big man, and his momentum slammed Spike into a filing cabinet and sent his pistol sliding into the hall. Tony grabbed his machine gun and fired it, but Spikes kicked him into the desk. He locked his arms around Tony’s neck in a hold that sent him reeling into the hall. Spike held on, never loosening his death grip on him as they slammed their way through several plastic board partitions. They staggered across the hall into the stairwell door, opening it, and crashed into the stairwell landing. ‘Shit this is gonna hurt’ Spike thought to himself as he saw where their momentum was taking them, and they tumbled down the concrete steps into the wall below.

For a moment, both men lay still, no movement, no twitches, just still as a corpse. The Spike still holding onto Tony’s neck, released it and the man's head flopped sickeningly to the side. For a moment Spike just looked at the dead man. Then, slowly, methodically, he began to search him. He turned all his pockets inside out, looks at his clothing labels, staring long and very hard at a California driver's license with Tony's picture on it. He expertly examined the machine gun when a hissing sound coming from somewhere attracted his attention.

Spike’s senses were now on full alert again. He rose slowly and moved carefully to the source of the sound. He found Tony’s CB lying a few feet away from them. It had obviously fallen from his waist during the struggle. Spike picked it up, a plan formulating in his head.

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Ok, if you read the first chapter I apologise for the TERRIBLE use of past, present, future tense. Hopefully this chapter was more grammatical.

Disclaimer-: I own none of the buffyverse characters or the storyline of Die Hard. I just mixed the two together and voila!

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Spike sat on the bottom steps next to Tony’s lifeless, and now shoeless, body, attempting to tie up Tony’s shoes on his own feet. He stood up and tested out the shoes, but winced in pain because the shoes were too small, so he gave up, sat back down and started to remove the shoes, muttering to himself,
“A million terrorists in the world and I kill the one with feet smaller than my sister.”

He pulled the shoes off and threw them in a nearby trash can. ‘Now what to do with the body?’ He thought to himself and grabbed Tony under the arms dragging him to a secretary’s chair and placing him upon it. Looking up Spike saw a desk and an idea formulated in his head. He scrawled a note on a piece of paper, and took a wooden ruler from the desk tidy, sliding it into his back pocket. His eyes glanced up and around, surveying the area, making sure he was till alone, not wanting to take any chances that one of the terrorists could creep up on him. As he quickly scanned the surrounding floor, his gaze fell on some Christmas decorations and a smile formed on his lips as an even better plan invaded his mind.

After grabbing the necessary equipment and placing it strategically, he pushed Tony’s body on the swivel chair into the elevator and pushed the buttons for the thirty first and thirtieth floors. The doors closed behind him and the elevator started his descent, but after only half a floor, Spike forced the doors open with his fingers and the safety features kicked in. ‘Typical’ Spike thought to himself. ‘The bloody lift will stop if the doors are opened when they aren’t supposed to, but when the building is taken over by terrorists there’s’ no fuckin’ security measures in sight.’
Spike whipped the ruler out from his back pocket and used it to hold the doors open. He placed his hands equally apart and pulled himself up and out of the elevator, out onto the thirty first floor. Once he was out, Spike reached in and removed the ruler, closing the inside doors and setting the elevator in motion again.

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Down on the floor where Adam was holding the hostages, Willow stirred uncomfortably. Buffy inched closer to her friend and soothed her. Willow wasn’t just Buffy’s secretary, but one of her best friends. She had been maid of honour at Buffy and Spike’s wedding, and was their children’s godmother. Willow’s husband Oz was their godfather, and just remembering the happier times gave Buffy a slight more courage faith that they would get out of this. Things had been so tough on Buffy and Spike’s relationship, both of them states apart, and barely getting enough chance to see each other. But now at the thought of never seeing him again, Buffy vowed she would do anything and everything possible to ensure that she and Spike would be the happy couple they once were.

Adam stood in front of the frightened hostages like a harsh camp counsellor in front of the military trainees.
“I wanted this to be professional, efficient, adult, cooperative. Not a lot to ask. Alas, your Mr. Takagi did not see it that way...” a cruel smile formed on his lips
“So he won't be joining us for the rest of his life.”
He paused letting the news of the death of the employees authority figure sink in.
“We are prepared to go any way you make us. When we have achieved our aims you can walk out of here... or be carried out. Decide now, each of you. But remember that we have planned everything to the last detail. We are completely in change.”

As if perfectly timed a ‘ding’ attracted his attention. He turned towards the noise. Fritz whirled around to the elevator, gun at the ready. As the doors opened, his jaw dropped at the sight he saw. Tony’s still and dead body, flopped in a swivel chair, a red Santa hat gaily placed on his head. Adam started walking towards the elevator and yelled
“Get them over there. Schnell!”
The guards quickly hustled the hostages away as Adam crossed to the elevator.
Before being man handled across the room, Buffy caught a glimpse of what was causing so much commotion between the terrorists. The dead body with a Santa hat on his head. A small smile formed on her lips, unseen by anyone else. She knew her husbands capabilities and part of her wanted to laugh out loud at her husband’s twisted sense of humour, but another part wanted to slap him for trying to play the hero. She knew he could handle himself and the look she had seen in his eyes as she had been dragged out with the other hostages told her that he wasn’t just going to sit back and wait until the authorities turned up.

As Fritz stood there confused, Adam came to the elevator with Franco 87-D
Who lifted Tony’s chin and could tell that his neck had been snapped. Seeing a piece of paper folded up in Tony’s collar, he pulled it out and opened it. The note read…

"Now I have a machine gun. HO-HO-HO."

Fritz offered a suggestion,
“Perhaps a security guard we overlooked...?”
Adam lifted Tony's chin again, letting the head flop over and replied thoughtfully,
“Security guard? They're usually tired and burned out old policemen growing fat on a pension...This is... something else.”

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On the roof of the elevator, Spike crouched, staring through a tiny crack at the scene below. He added more information to that he had already written down on the paper.
The first notation was

‘number of hostages: Buffy + 30 odd.’
Then

‘number of terrorists?’

Spike added…

‘3? 1 in Lobby (?) and 2+ with hostages?? Plus ones on roof.’

Below he could hear Fritz slightly spooked voice,
“We have to do something, Adam.”
Adam was clearly not pleased. ‘Ha, serves him right stupid son of a bitch trying to hold my wife hostage’.
“Yes...we have to tell Karl his brother is dead. Tell him to come down.” Adam told Fritz.

Spike wrote more information on his note pad…

‘Adam = leader, Karl = brother. Use this?"

As Fritz called Karl on his CB, Adam looked at Franco. “Franco, you and Fritz take the body upstairs and out of sight. I don't want the hostages to think too much.

Franco and Fritz stepped into the elevator and pressed a floor button. As the elevator accelerated Spike grabbed onto the heavy,
grease-coated cables to keep his balance. His face, feet, arms and hair were darkened from the dirt, oil and sweat. The elevator sped up the shaft, passing the elevator bringing Karl down to the hostage floor and stopped at the machine floor. The doors opened and Spike heard them roll the chair with the body out of the elevator.

Looking up he could see a metal catwalk that ran around the inside of the elevator shaft. Spike pulled himself up onto it and moved around the catwalk looking for a way out, passing an unmarked metal door. Opening it he peered in, total darkness greeting him.

Spike searched through his pockets and took out a quarter, then stopped and switched it to a nickel. He threw it into the void and it was at least a full four seconds before he heard it ‘ching’ and bounce on the concrete far below. He didn’t have to be a mathematics whiz to know it was a long drop. “Fuck that.” He muttered to himself. Spike moved cautiously around a corner and we saw a metal ladder leading up to a door marked PUMP ROOM. Opening the door he stepped into damp room full of pipes and crossed, through to another door. He cracked open the door and peered out seeing the lower level of the roof, open and deserted, a heliport slightly higher above him.

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Down an the thirtieth floor, in Buffy’s office a filing cabinet was flung across the floor, followed by a lamp being flung across the room. Karl was having a major hissy fit over the death of his brother and punched a hole in the plaster wall. Adam went over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“I know what you are feeling. But this is not productive…”
Karl interrupted him shouting at the top of his voice,
“He was my only brother...my only family! I want blood for my blood. We search...now.”
He started to move but Adam stopped him.
“No. Heinrich's team must finish planting the detonators...and Theo needs time on the vault. After the police come they'll waste hours trying to negotiate...that's when we search for this man. Until then...we do not alter the plan.”

“And if he alters it...?” Karl stated quietly. For once, Adam didn’t have an answer. *

Around the corner, the hostages heard the alarm and could sense the agitation among their captors. Parker slid over to Buffy.
“What's happening?” He asked her.
“They don't look happy...something's gone wrong.”
“The police...?” Parker offered.
Buffy shook her head.
“Spike.”
“Spike? Christ, he could fuck this whole thing up...what does he think he's doing?” Parker spat.
Buffy felt an overwhelming need to slap Parker, more than usual.
“How about his job?” She retorted.
“His 'job' is 3000 miles away. Without him, they might let us go...at least we have a chance...”
But Buffy interrupted him quietly
“Tell that to Mr. Takagi.”

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Up on the roof, Spike climbed up to the heliport and leant against the leeward side of a wall surrounding it. Shielded from wind, he pulled out the CB, and turned it to channel nine, and started broadcasting.
“Mayday, Mayday! Anyone! Terrorists have seized and Nakatomi building and are holding 30 or more hostages! I say again…”

In Buffy’s office, the broadcast was picked up over Adam’s radio.
“…unknown number of terrorists, six or more, armed with automatic weapons at Nakatomi, Century City... Somebody answer me, Goddamnit!”

Karl looked almost satisfied.
“The roof. It's the best place to transmit.” Adam told them as they dispatched towards the roof. Spike was unaware that within a matter of minutes he would not be alone, and it wouldn’t be the cavalry joining him.

In an L.A dipatch centre a supervisor weaved her way back from a break towards a dispatcher who was monitoring the call.
“It's the same address as that fire signal” The dispatcher informed her.
The supervisor took over the situation,
“…the false alarm? I'll handle it.”
She plugged in her headset.
“Attention, whoever you are. This channel is reserved for emergency calls only…”
Spike’s voice interrupted her over the radio.
“No fucking shit, lady! Do I sound like I'm ordering a pizza?”

In the service elevator back at the Nakatomi building Franco, Fritz and Karl arrived at the roof.
“No one kills him but me.” Karl informed the others
It was an order and the look he gave the other two backed it up. Karl checked his magazine, slapped it into his rifle as the elevator opened up onto the roof.

Spike moved around the roof, circling the helipad, making sure he had a good enough view to avoid being ambushed. He couldn’t see in all directions at once but he was doing the best he could.

“They've already killed one hostage, and they're fortifying their positions while we're bloody fuckin’ around! Now, send police backup ASAP!”

The condescending, arrogant tone of the supervisor came over the radio. “Sir, I've already told you, this is a reserved channel. If this is an emergency call, dial 911 on your telephone. Otherwise I will report you to the police…”

Spike couldn’t believe this. Why wouldn’t they believe him?

“Fine! Report me! Hey, come down here and fucking arrest me! Send the police. NOW!” He yelled into the radio.

Suddenly machine gun shells ripped into the concrete wall in front of him. The noise was deadening and both the Supervisor and Dispatcher reached for their headsets in pain from the intense sound.

Up on the roof Spike ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Tracer bullets ripped into the wall behind him. He reached the corner and saw the other two terrorists moving toward him. Before they saw him, he leapt down to the next level out of range of Karl.

At the emergency dispatch centre the Dispatcher looked critically at the Supervisor in the sudden silence.

“Ad...have a black-and-white do a drive-by.” The supervisor told her.

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At a convenience store down town a young police man picked up a handful of Twinkies. He was in his early twenties with black wavy hair. He placed the bag on the counter as the clerk smiled.
“Thought you guys just ate donuts.”
“They're for my wife. She's pregnant. If I knew she was gonna eat a dozen at a shot, I woulda bought stock in the company.
The Clerk nodded rang the items up on the till. As the officer paid his belt radio suddenly crackled into life.
“Dispatch to One Adam Ten, over.”
He grabbed the radio, and spoke into it.
“One Adam Ten, go ahead.”

“Investigate a code two at Nakatomi Plaza, Century City.”

“Nakatomi Plaza?” He spoke to himself, trying to place it. As he stepped out of the convenience store he looked up and saw the Nakatomi building on the horizon, in all its glory.

“One Adam Ten, do you copy?”

The officer moved towards his patrol car and spoke into the radio again.
“Roger, dispatch. I'm on the way.”
And he sped away from the store towards the building.

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Up on the roof, Spike ran for his life from Fritz and Franco, unaware that he was being herded around the building toward Karl. Suddenly Spike turned a corner and saw Karl who fired a burst. Spike ducked back before stopping at the exterior door to the pump room he used before. He tried to open it but found it locked from the inside, He aimed his machine gun at the lock and after a burst of bullets he kicked the door open and slipped into the darkness of the room.

Coming quickly out of the pump room, Spike picked his way over the same ground as a few minutes before and opened the door to the elevator shaft. The dimly lit shaft yawned before him as he started back down the ladder to the catwalk, moving along it he stopped dead. The catwalk ended and the elevator was gone.

Karl crossed to open the door to the elevator shaft when suddenly their radio crackled with Adam’s voice “Karl? Franco? Did you catch him?”
“No, but he's in the elevator shaft.” Franco replied.
“Perfect. The elevators are locked off. He can't escape. Just shut him in and return to base.” Adam told him.
Karl yelled angrily into the radio.
“Adam, he killed by brother…”
Adam spoke sternly into his radio,
“Karl, I know you want him, but the police are probably on their way. Maybe we can convince them it was all a mistake, but not if they hear gunshots! If you lock him in he'll be neutralized… now do it! Karl? Karl!”

Karl turned off his radio and Franco and Fritz other terrorists looked at him in stunned disbelief. Karl may have been acting on grief, but it was suicide to ignore Adam. He had made that perfectly clear in the beginning, killing several fellow terrorists to prove his point. Karl did not car and opened the door to the elevator shaft.

Spike overheard enough of this to realise he was in deep shit He backtracked to the air shaft door and pulled out his lighter to get a better look at his surroundings.

On the opposite side of the elevator shaft Karl stepped off the ladder to the catwalk, his own gun held ready.

Spike heard Karl's approach and knowing he had to think fast, looked down at his narrow confines, and then at his gun and its canvas gunsling and metal strap slides.

Quickly, he let out all the slack in the sling. Then he braced the weapon across the outside opening of the air shaft door and lowered himself into the air shaft holding onto the canvas sling with his elbows bent over it like a kid doing a half-asses skin-the-cat on a swing set.

His feet slowly moved down the smooth aluminum walls until they reached the top of the air duct, then dangled in the open space.
He straightened his arms to give him length enough to touch the bottom edge of the duct.

Suddenly he felt something give above him and looked up. The gun was designed to carry a gun on a man, not vice versa. The few inches of extra canvas were sliding through the clips. When they were gone...he would be too.

Karl moved quietly closer to the corner and Spike, now only inches from the bottom edge, arms fully extended, heard Karl on the metal catwalk. Spike’s muscles strained and quivered as one end of the canvas sling slipped through the clip and Spike fell.

He grabbed the ledge of the air duct as he fell and his body slammed into the aluminium wall with an echoing boom. Above him on the catwalk the rifle rattles on the metal outside the door.

Around the corner, Karl froze, unsure of what had made the sound. Spike held onto the ledge by his hands and tried with every ounce of strength in his body to pull himself up into the horizontal duct, clawing for a hold.

Karl rounded the corner and saw Spike’s machine gun lying beneath the doorway. He moved to the small door, shining his light and aimed his rifle down into the air shaft ready to fire… but from what he could see, the shaft was deserted. Moving his light around he saw the air duct. Without hesitation he turned and backtracked to the pump room door.

In the air duct Spike lay exhausted and motionless in the narrow crawl space. He awkwardly fished out the lighter from his shirt pocket and thumbed it on.

The flickering glow showed him this wasn’t no place for claustrophobics. It was a long, long, long dark and narrow corridor full of weird shadows. The far end if there was an end, was black. “Whew...for a moment there I was worried.” Spike muttered to himself ‘So much for the light at the end of the tunnel’ added mentally. He turned out his lighter, and started crawling.

The three terrorists rushed down from the roof in hot pursuit, Karl leading the way through the door. Karl pointed quickly to the left and right where there were a series of rooms. The others checked them while Karl wandered forwards, trigger finger itching. Almost immediately, the others returned.
“Nothing” Franco whispered.
Karl looked puzzled then mentally retraced Spike’s few options. His eyes scanned the architecture, and then suddenly looked up. The ceiling was criss-crossed with air ducts.

He fired a shot into the air duct and Spike froze. Three holes, inches from his face showed how close Karl came to nailing him. Sweat covered Spike’s face, dripping silently onto the aluminium.

Karl listened patiently for sound. Just then the two other terrorists returned.
“Nothing.” Franco informed him.
Karl hesitated for a moment, fighting his instincts before finally turning to go. Suddenly the duct Spike was in groaned slightly under his weight. Karl stopped and looked up at the matrix of aluminum duct work, trying to single out the source of the sound. He stepped back into the room and raised his rifle. Holding it upright he pressed the barrel up into the belly of Spike’s air duct, feeling for the weight of a body.

Inside the air duct Spike saw the indention of the barrel pressing into the aluminum fifteen feet away. There was a pause and another three feet closer. He could hear Karl's footsteps on the concrete, moving slowly below the duct. Silently he moved his hand,slowly drawing his Beretta. The next indention pressed up six feet away. Spike pointed his gun downward and waited for the inevitable.

Karl stopped directly below him. The barrel started upwards and just touched the duct under Spike when Franco returned to the door.
“Karl! Police! Come on.”
Karl hesitated then lowered his gun and left.

Spike heard the door close and lowered his gun and head. ‘That was too close.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Down in the safe room, Theo worked on the barricades that blocked his way to the prize inside. After punching in a few more numbers the screen in front of him read DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED? Theo placed his goggles on his eyes, holding out his hands towards Kristoff like a doctor requesting a scalpel, but instead of a scalpel Kristoff passed him a giant drill.
“You bet your ass I'm gonna proceed.” Theo smiled, turning on the drill.


Outside the Nakatomi building, the street was empty and quiet. A lone police black-and-white pulled out of the shadows of a side street and began a slow cruise toward the Nakatomi building.

Driving alone the police officer stared up at the tower. It seemed calm, its glowing lights matching the warmth of the holiday decorations on the streets. He slowed to a stop and scanned the premises. In the lobby Eddie was sitting, behind the desk. The officer spoke into his radio,
“Guard inside. No signs of disturbance...I'm going up for a closer look.”
He pulled up and exited the car, heading for the main entrance.

Inside, Spike punched out a ceiling vent and dropped down into the machine room. For a moment he stood, still, silent, listening for sounds of movement. The floor was quiet and he crossed to the stairwell.

On the roof, a terrorist walked along the wall and looked over at the police car, one tiny push or a misplaced step would have sent him tumbling over the edge to meet the ground below.

On the third floor, the elevator doors open on Karl, Franco and Fritz. They stepped out onto the darkened floor and moved quickly toward the windows on the Avenue of the Stars side where a terrorist, with a bar rifle had set up a machine gun nest under a half-opened window. Directly below him was the police car. He panned the police car with his weapon, finger on the trigger, clearly hungry for action.

On the thirtieth floor Adam watched from above. He raised his CB, speaking with his usual calm.
“Eddie?”

In the lobby, Eddie picked up his CB, watching the officer coming up the stairs.
“Had a feeling you'd be calling...” He spoke into the radio

Over the radio came Adam’s voice,
“Let him in.”
Eddie was a little startled, but moved quickly.

The trigger happy terrorist on the third floor also heard this, and his eager expression faded. But orders were orders.

The officer tried the doors but found them locked. Eddie came hustling across and unlocked the door with a magnetic card.
“Evening, officer. What's up?”

The officer stepped inside as bland, holiday music filled the room. *
“We got an emergency call that there was a problem here.” He told Eddie

On the thirty fourth floor Spike made his way to the Avenue of the Stars side of the building, entering the board room where Takagi was shot. He went to the windows and looked down at the street and saw the police car.
“All right!” He whispered
He waited, expectant. Five seconds. Ten seconds. But no commotion, no shouting. Frowning he voiced his thoughts,
“Where's the fucking cavalry?”

The officer walked casually across the slick floor, eyes panning the area. Eddie sat casually watching a game on one of his monitor screens.
“We already had that false alarm, you ask me, the Goddamn computers sent you out on another wild goose chase. They been chasing bugs in that system since they installed it.” Eddie lied, then for effect added…
“Oh, shit, come on, I got fifty bucks on you assholes…!”

The officer started to think his time was being wasted.

The silent tension was driving Spike crazy.
“Come on, come on...who's in that car, bloody Stevie Wonder?”
Making up his mind to do something while he could, he lifted one of the big chairs and swung it at the window. The tempered glass only whitening on the first blow.

Up on the roof, the terrorist saw the glass whiten below him and shouted into his mike. Heinrich heard the radio and shouted to Marco who grabbed his machine gun and ran.

Eddie watched confidently as the officer moved through the lobby looking for signs of trouble. Around the corner Uli was there, gun held ready. *

Up in the board room Spike drew the chair back for the final hit when Marco appeared at the door. Spike whipped round but Marco already had his gun up and fired a round at Spike. The bullets ripped into the table top and the chair, and Spike dove down behind the table.

Marco smiled to himself and moved around to the other side of the table, but found no one there. He looked around frantically than squat down beneath the table and Spike lying prone, his pistol trained on him.
“Drop it or you're a rugstain.”

Just then Heinrich stepped into the doorway, and seeing the situation Marco was in yelled…
“Marco, duck!”
Marco dove sideways, but Heinrich still wasn’t quick enough. Spike fired twice and Heinrich dropped dead sprawling in the hallway, his machine gun firing blindly until he hit the floor.

Down on the hostage floor they all faintly heard the gunshots above them and Buffy’s insides lurched. The colour draining from her face. She had no way of knowing whether Spike was alive or dead. She couldn’t react openly otherwise they would figure there was a link between her and the man they all wanted to kill and that would be bad news. All Buffy wanted to do was run from the room and find Spike and take solace in his embrace. But all she could do was sit letting her insides rip apart in silence.

In the lobby, all the officer could hear was "LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW." He stopped just a yard from seeing the armed terrorist, but turned back muttering “Screw this.”

In the board room Marco sprang on top of the huge table as Spike rolled on his back so he could cover either angle but was clear that Marco was in the more enviable position. On the table top Marco slammed in a fresh magazine and smiled.
“Next time… don't hesitate.”
Spike heard the clip being replaced and aimed directly above him, firing twice into the underside of the table. The bullets ripped through the table and Marco dropped down dead onto the floor next to Spike .
“Thanks for the advice.” Spike told the corpse.

In the lobby, the officer moved to leave as Eddie followed him to lock up.
“Sorry to water your time. Merry Christmas.” The officer smiled, and left the building.

Spike rolled out from under the table, crossed to the windows, and looked down in time to see the officer heading for the car.
“Oh, man, please, no…”

Desperate, Spike leant on the glass...which cracked again, on the verge of going. Spike looked over his shoulder at the body of Marco.

In the car, the officer checked in on his radio, unconsciously beginning to hum the music he heard in the lobby.
“One Adam Ten to 6421. We had a wild goose chase on that 436. Everything's okay here. Over.” Waiting for a reply he tunefully murmured “Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the...the uh, dum, de dum's delightful...”

Over the radio came a dispatchers voice “Roger, One Adam Ten. We thought it was a crank call anyway. Clear to code eight.”

“Roger.” He replied into the radio, then put the radio back on the receiver, and the car into gear he begain singing again.
“...let is snow, let it snow, let it snow…”

Suddenly Marco's body crashed onto the hood of his car. The officer yelled terrified.
“Jesus H. Christ!”
He grabbed his radio and cried into it…
“6421, this is One Adam Ten!”

Suddenly a barrage of machine gun fire from the terrorist on the third floor drowned out his call. He ducked and flattened against the seat as bullets blew out the front window covering him in glass.

“Roger, One Adam Ten, please repeat.” Came the dispatchers voice. But the officer accelerated in reverse away from the building, keeping his head low, praying he wouldn’t hit anything as the bullets followed him, digging into asphalt. A half block away his car ran off the pavement and down a slope, finally bouncing to a jarring halt in a parking lot. He sat up and clutched the mike.
“One Adam Ten, under automatic rifle fire at Nakatomi! Requesting immediate backup and SWAT assistance...”

Up in the board room the wind blew into the room and Spike stood framed against the light, his gun held firmly against his body. He looked down at the police car and grinned.
“Welcome to the party, pal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

what did you think?

Disclaimer-: I own none of the buffyverse characters or the storyline of Die Hard. I just mixed the two together and voila!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a TV studio, a police scanner picked up the police broadcasts. A local TV news reporter, Riley Finn was on the phone to his girlfriend.
“Of course I can get us a table, Wolfgang and me, we're like that. I interviewed him...hold on, babe...”
He covered the mouthpiece, after becoming aware of what was coming from the scanner.
“…attention all units. Officer pinned down by automatic weapon fire at Nakatomi, Century City…request assistance…”
Intermixed with the broadcast was the officer’s voice,
“…guys, you want to cut through the red tape? They practically turned this car into Swiss cheese…!
Riley smiled,
“All right...!”
He dropped the phone, picking up another shouting…
“Mary, this is Finn. I want a remote truck and a crew to meet me at the South gate in fifteen minutes...Damn right, fifteen...Where are we going?” He paused, and heard gun shots coming from the scanner and grinned.
“…For an Emmy!”
Riley ran from the room to make sure he was looking perfect for what was to be the biggest broadcast of his entire life, leaving his annoyed girlfriend calling his name on the other phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the Nakatomi building sirens could be heard as the first few police cars arrived. The officer saw them and waved them back pointing to the third floor.

On the hostage floor, Parker leant back and closed his eyes, luxuriating in the sound of wailing police sirens. He looked at Buffy
“I never through I'd love to hear that sound.”

In Buffy’s office Adam, Karl, Fritz and Franco conferred. In mid speech he heard the police sirens arriving.
“All of you, stay at your posts! We knew that police action was inevitable...” an odd smile formed on his lips “...In fact, it's necessary. So let them start their feeble efforts; until them, stay calm. We have the hostages, remember. We are still in charge.”

Suddenly Adam’s radio crackled to life. He picked it up and spoke harshly,
“I told all of you...I want radio silence until further…”

On the thirty fourth floor Spike had a CB radio on, and his cop's notebook out again. He had already upgraded the ‘number of terrorists?’ to "12 minus 3 = 9" and added other information. As he
speaks he took ammo clips the dead men had dropped as well as their sidearms.
“Gee, I'm sorry, Adam, nobody gave me the message. You shoulda put it on the bulletin board. Anyway, I thought you and Franco and Karl and the other boys might be lonely, now that I waxed Tony and Marco and their buddy. So I invited some of the guys from my card game.”

In Buffy’s office, they all reacted, startled as Spike name dropped
“How...how does he know so much about…” Franco stammered, but Adam waved his hand for silence and spoke into the radio.
“Ah, how nice of you to call. I assume you are our mysterious party crasher. You are most troublesome for a...security guard?”

Spike was moving down the corridor noow armed with Marco's machine gun and carrying Heinrich's kit bag. he seems more lethal. Into the radio Spike made the sound of a buzzer that indicates a wrong answer on a game show.
“Sorry, Adam, wrong guess. Would you like to go for Double Jeopardy, where the stakes are double and the scores really change?”
Spike turned Heinrich over and was delighted to find a pack of Marlboro in the man's pocket. He took them and patted the dead man’s face then whispered to him…
“Bad for your health anyway.”

Adam’s voice came over the radio.
“Who are you, then?”
“Just the fly in the ointment, Adam. The monkey in the wrench, the pain in the ass…”
Spike stopped in mid-speech after opening the kit bag Heinrich had over his shoulder when he died. He took out the contents...dozens and dozens of explosive detonators marked “Danger” and a chunk or cello-wrapped plastique the size of an electric razor, and whistled surprise to himself.

In the office, Adam turned off his mike for a moment, and turned to Karl.
“Check on all the others...don't use the radio. See if he's lying about Marco, and find out if anyone else is missing.” *

Adam went back to the CB. Spike smiled at the tell-tale static as Adam’s radio went off and on. He knew what was happening. Now, he started to walk down a corridor, eyes panning from the elevator to the stairwell doors.
“Mr. Mystery Guest. Are you still there?” Adam asked.
“I wouldn't think of leaving, Adam. Unless you want to open the front door...?”
“I'm afraid not. But you have me at a loss -- you know my name, but who are you?” Then Adam spoke scornfully. “Just another man who saw too many movies as a child. Another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne...Rambo... Marshal Dillion.”
“Actually, I was always partial to Roy Rogers. I really dug those sequined shirts.” Spike replied
Then Adam’s tone changed from subtle and calm to harsh.
“Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?”

Spike saw a light blink on the elevator and waited before sending one last message to Adam, for the time being anyway.
“Yipee-yi-yea...mother-fucker.”

Spike entered the stairwell quietly and was gone by the time the search party stepped out of the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karl stepped off the elevator and went through the crowd of hostages to Adam and spoke quietly.
“He wasn't lying about Marco: He's thirty stories down on the street. The other man is Heinrich, and I found his body upstairs.” Karl paused, Adam was going to be pissed about the next bit of news. From Karl’s impromptu silence Adam could tell there was something else.. Karl finally added…
“…And his bag is missing.”
“He had the detonators!” Adam was fuming. He picked up the CB
“Theo. Theo.”

In the drill room Theo along with Kristoff, had drilled two holes in the safe and was working on a third when he heard the CB. He turned off the drill and answered.
“Yo!”
“We may have some problems. How is your schedule?”
Theo moved to his computer screen which showed a schematic of the safe.
“Three down, four to go…”
“Then don't waste time talking to me.” Adam told him.


Suddenly all of the terrorists reacted to a nearby CB transmitter.
“This is Sergeant Xander Harris of the Los Angeles Police Department. If the person who radioed for help on this channel can hear me, acknowledge this transmission...I say again...”

On the thirty third floor Spike responded to the transmission.
“I read you, Harris. You the guy in the car?”

Xander stood in front of his destroyed cruiser and looked up at the building. Behind him technicians, City Power and Light personnel, SWAT officers in protective gear, arrived from all directions and a trailer was being backed into a parking lot.

“What's left of him. Can you identify yourself?” Xander asked.

Adam and Karl listened intently, would he slip up? Buft Spike knew giving them his name would be like strapping a sign to himself saying ‘Shoot Me’ and walking out onto the thirtieth floor.
“Maybe later. Just listen fast because this is a party line and the neighbours are trigger happy. Now here's the skinny: There's thirty or so hostages on the thirtieth floor, with probably 2 or 3 guards to cover a group that size. The leader here is named Hans, and besides the pea shooter he ventilated your car with, they got machine guns and sidearms up the yin yang. On top of that one of 'em had a big enough chunck of plastic explosive to orbit Kate Smith.” *

On the thirtieth floor Franco was panicking.
“We have to find him and shut him up! He's telling them everything…”
Adam shook his head, calming.
“The police are irrelevant. We're waiting for the FBI. Until they *
arrive, we can't finish our work. Meanwhile, let this fool waste time
for the police. Fritz, go help Uli find the bag. We must find those detonators.”

“How many are there?” Xander asked.

Spike thought for a moment.

“Figuring there's at least one to cover the lobby, a couple with the hostages...I'd say they came in with about a dozen...but they're down to nine now, including the skydiver you already met. These guys are mostly Europeans, judging by their clothing labels, and they're well financed and very slick.”

“How do you know?”

“I've seen enough phoney ID's in my time to recognize that the ones they've got cost a fortune. Add all that up and I don't know what the fuck it means, but these are bad ass preps and they're here to stay.”

Everything Spike said about "clothing" and ID's and police jargon, set off a little buzzer in Xander’s brain.

“I hear you...” and on a hunch he added “…Partner. And LA's finest are on it, so light 'em if you got 'em.”

“I'm ahead of you...partner.” Spike responded, thanking whoever was up there watching him that the cop had realised he was one of their own.

“Uh, what do I call you?”

Spike smiled and thought ‘what the hell?
“’Roy’”.

“Got it...'Roy'. Now listen. If you think of anything else you think we need to know, don't be shy, okay? In the meantime I want you to find a safe place and hole-up and let us do our job. Understand?”

“They're all yours, Harris. Good luck.”
Spike turned off his CB and sat against the wall, pulling a cigarette from Heinrich’s pack and lighting it. He took a drag and rested his head back against the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An unmarked police car pulled up across the street from the Nakatomi building and a man in a sport coat climbs out. His face was warm but serious, the very fact that he was the Deputy Chief of Police Operations on a Christmas Eve gives some evidence to his position in the pecking order. His name was Rupert Giles and he moved brusquely past police technicians and went to the forward group of officers.

“Who's talking to them?” Giles asked, his British accent filled with authority.

Xander turned around.
“I am, Sir...Sergeant Xander Harris.”

“Rupert Giles. Well, what have you learned? What do they want?” Giles asked him.

“The terrorists? Don't know, Sir. We haven't heard a peep from them.”

Giles was puzzled. “Then who the hell have you been talking too?”

“We don't exactly know, Sir. He won't give us him name. He appears to be the man who called in the report...he's killed one of the terrorists for sure and claims he capped two others.”

“He claims? Harris, has it occurred to you he could be one of the terrorists, pulling your chain? Or some kind of nut case who…” Giles spoke exhaustibly.

“I don't think so, Sir. In fact... I think he's a cop. Maybe not LAPD, but definitely a badge.”

“How do you know?”

“A hunch. Things he said. Like, knowing how to recognize a phony ID…”

“Recognizing phony ID's? Christ, Harris, he could be a fucking bartender for all we know!”

The arrival of a remote news truck attracted Giles’ attention, and just beyond the barricades the truck slowed to a stop and Riley Finn stepped out and started supervising the positioning of cameras. out, starts supervising the positioning of cameras.

“Oh shit...” Giles sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the thirtieth floor Adam examined building plans at Buffy’s desk. Behind him the TV was on, the sound muted. Adam looked up as Fritz brought Buffy in.

“I...have a request.” She spoke confidently, even though fear for Spike’s life coursed through her veins, as well as an overwhelming urge to shoot the guy in front of her with his own gun.

“Oh? What idiot put you in charge?” He asked mockingly.
“You did.” She replied evenly, and on his look added. “You murdered by Boss. Now...” she waved towards the hostages “They're looking to me. Personally I'd pass on the jab. I don't enjoy being this close to you.”

Adam was impressed by her candor, and she was easy enough on the eyes.

“Go on.”

“We have a pregnant woman out there…relax, she's not due for two weeks, but a marble floor isn't doing her back any good. I'd like permission for her to more to one of the offices where there's a sofa.” Buffy asked.

“No. But I'll have a sofa brought out to you. Good enough?”

“Good enough. And unless you like is messy, you'd better start taking us in groups to the bathroom.”

“Yes, you're right. It will be done.”

He nodded to one of his men, and Buffy was waved to the door.

“Mr. Takagi chose his people well, Mrs...?”

Buffy thought quickly “Summers. Miss Summers.”

Adam nodded, thoughtful, as Buffy left. Suddenly Adam noticed the TV. A slide "SPECIAL BULLETIN" had appeared. This changed to a shot of the Nakatomi building with "LIVE" supered over it. Riley Finn was in front of the camera.

“This is Riley Finn, speaking to you live from Century City... where Los Angeles has joined the sad but world wide fraternity whose only membership requirement is the awesome spectre of International Terrorism...”

In the back of the limo, Robin Wood, flicked through cannels. When he flicked onto the news report of the terrorist attack going on above him that he was oblivious to, he reached for the remote again , muttering,
“What else is new...?”
But as the camera pulled back to reveal the Nakatomi Building behind Finn, Robin became stunned.

“Holy shit...”

“We're told that the situation began some two hours ago when an unidentified party of men took over the building and sealed off all of its entrances and exits...” Riley continued.

Robin was already bailing out of the car, but then he saw the metal gates that had been locked down. He jumped back in the car and poured himself a stiff drink.

“Since all the telephone lines have been cut, the only contact with the building had been through the use of CB communicators which the terrorists brought with them. Strangely enough, so far the terrorists have not communicated directly with the police... but an unidentified man has had several conversations which seem to indicate...”

Robin nearly spilled his drink as he leant over the front seat nearly spilt his drink as he leant over the front seat and turned on the CB.


Outside, men and vehicles moved around, the snap of weapons and breeches could be heard and Xander picked up on this.

“What's going on?”

“What's it look like? We're going in.” Giles informed him.

Xander was flabbergasted.

“Going in...are you out of your mind? There's 30 hostages in there, for all we know…”

“…all we know? We don't know shit, Harris. If there's hostages why hasn't anyone asked for ransom? If there's terrorists, where's their goddamn list of demands? All we know is that someone shot up your car, and it could be the same flake you've been talking to on the radio!” Giles told him.

“What about the body that fell out of the window?”

“Who the hell knows? Maybe he was a stockbroker who looked at the Dow Jones and opted for early retirement!”

“Chief, we're ready.” A member of the SWAT team called Graham informed him.

“I'm coming.”

“Forrest.” Graham spoke into his mic.

“Yo.” Forrest replied

“Begin your reconnoiter.” Graham told him.


Inside the building, sadly realizing that the Marlboro pack had only two more to go, Spike savoured the dregs of his current number, then suddenly becomes aware of the almost eerie quiet. He moved to the window.

Spike could see hints of activity in the darkness, a light flare was extinguished and shadows moved on trailer walls. Spooked, he spoke into his CB.

“Harris? Xander, you still with me? What's going on? Xander?”

Outside, Xander stiffened, and Giles looked at him waringly, shaking his head.

“I'm here, Roy, but I'm, uh, kind of busy. Let's talk later, okay?”

“Xander, what's wrong? Did something…” Then the he realised what was happening and he felt sick to his stomach. If they were about to do what he thought they were about to do, then the terrorists might kill the hostages. The thought that Buffy could die made a cold fear wash over him and he felt like his insides were being yanked out thorough his mouth.

“Oh, God. You're coming in! That's it, isn't it? Christ, Harris, I told you what you're dealing with here…”

“I said we'll talk later, Roy. If you're what I think you are you should know when to listen, when to shut up... and when to pray.”

Hating himself Xander disconnected, watching lights snap on in the parking lot to illuminate the area.

Also hating himself, Spike did the same thing. Pale, he moved to a window to watch what he knew was going to be brutal.

In Buffy’s office, Adam hunched over his communicator.

“They'll be coming. Get ready. Theo, watch the screens. Be our eyes and ears. Wait until they're close.”

In the lobby, Eddie slipped away from the desk, a computer card in his hand. He met up with another terrorist and they moved behind a slit in the wall. Eddie waved his card at the sensor and a metal grid crashed into place. They held their weapons behind it, ready.

All around the building other terrorists moved about, CB’s attached with earphones, weapons ready. While outside, the SWAT team leader moved in SOP style to the door, scanning it carefully.

At the police barracks Graham listened to his CB.

“We're in position.” Forrest informed him.

Graham looked at Giles, who was visibly tense. Giles hesitated, then gave his approval with a nod.

“Go.” Graham spoke into his receiver.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the vault Kristoff drilled away and was rewarded with, the messageFIFTH LOCK DEACTIVATED. DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE?’ Nearby, Theo sat at a bank of monitors. Screen after screen pinpointed all the police activity outside, down to the last detail. Theo smiled and spoke into a throat mike.

“It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, expect for… the four assholes coming in the rear in standard 2 X 2 cover formation.”

Eddie and Uli, took up prone firing positions, using the gaps in the steel partition like gunpoints.

Graham and Giles watched from behind the cover of a police car as the SWAT officers removed a portable welding torch and began cutting their way through the locks.

On the thirty third floor Spike moved painfully to the window and looked out. He couldn’t see a thing because of the lights and whispered to himself “No...”

Suddenly rifle fire sounded from the building.

Giles reacted worriedly.

“They're shooting at them!”

Graham however was perfectly calm.

“It's panic fire...they can't see anything.”

But Xander knew better and muttered under his breath,

“They're shooting at the lights.”

More shots rang out from the building going over the SWAT officers' heads and suddenly the huge dome of one of the spotlights shattered behind Graham and Giles’ head. The glow faded, and a moment later the next light, twenty feet away died too.

“They're going after the lights!” Giles yelled.

The two SWAT officers cutting the garage suddenly looked up as their cover started to disappear.

“Call them back.” Giles told Graham, but he refused.

“No, they're almost in.”

Suddenly the third and fourth lights were shot out and the SWAT men became sitting ducks.

In Buffy’s office Adam spoke calmly into his CB.

“Don't get impatient. Just wound them.”

Eddie and Uli fired, hitting one of the officers in the leg, the second one in the arm.

Graham shouted into his mic.
“
“Send in the car!

An armored car wheeled toward the building and started toward the wounded men.

In the service elevator, two terrorists quickly loaded in two crates onto the service and pushed the button for the 3rd floor. As the elevator started down, they removed an anti-tank gun from one of the crates.

“Well, what have we here. The police've got themselves an R.V. James, Alexander, southeast corner.” Theo spoke into his CB.

The service elevator arrived on the 3rd floor and James and Alexander moved across the room toward the windows with the anti-tank weapon. At the window, they prepared it for use.

Outside the window the armored car stopped in front of the wounded men and paramedics quickly loaded them in from the sheltered side of the vehicle. Alexander quickly sighted on the armored car.

He spoke to Adam over the CB.

“I have them”


“Fire.” Came Adam’s reply.

A blast roared from the third floor window and the shell hit the armoured car. The car pitched forward like a beast whose front legs had been shot out from under it, its front axle destroyed, unable to move. Alexander looked back at James and grinned.

Adam watched from the window and coldly picked up his CB.

“Hit it again.”

Spike could hear everything over the CB and grabbed it yelling angrily.
“Adam, you motherfucker, you've made your point. Let them pull back!”

“Thank you Mr. Cowboy, I'll take it under advisement. Hit it again.” Adam spoke callously.

Spike slumped to the floor below the window, feeling totally helpless. Then he noticed the kit bag.

At the police barricade, Giles and Graham looked on in horror as the armoured car sat helplessly on fire. On the police radio channel they could hear the screams of the men inside.

Graham yelled into his radio.

“Forrest! Rodriguiz!...Report...”

Forrest came through on the radio, shouting.

“This is Forrest. We've got one dead. Everybody's hit. Rodriguiz's bleeding bad. We've got to get the fuck out of here!”

“Rivers, hang on! That's an order! Hang on, we'll get you out.” Graham told him.

In the elevator car, James opened the box of shells and took two and started back across the room.

On the thirty third floor a plastic 208 explosive was sitting on the seat of a secretary's chair with castors. Spike pressed three detonators onto the top then covered the explosive with a typewriter, tying it securely in place with electrical cords.

Spike wheeled the chair to the service elevator, opened the door and blocked them with a fire axe. He looked, and could just see the top of the elevator car thirty five floors below.

Down below James handed the shell to Alexander, who expertly loaded it into the anti-tank gun. Alexander lifted the gun to his shoulder and aimed.

Spike pushed the chair down the elevator shaft and called after it,

“Geronimo...mother-fuckers.

For a long moment there was nothing, then, the shaft was filled with light, then an ungodly roar and Spike was thrown back across the elevator corridor by the concussion wave.

On the third floor the explosion, like a firestorm, ripped across the floor blowing out the machine gun, James, Alexander, shattering windows, sending desks, chairs, phones and typewriters flying.

On the avenue of the stars the police took cover behind their cars. Xander, Giles, and Graham looked like they had seen the face of God as the building rocked from the blast. One officers cigarette falls from his mouth as a desk was sent hurtling across Avenue of the Stars
into the trees across the street.

Down on the street Riley watched in awe.

“Unreal. Did you get all that?”

“Yep” replied the cameraman.

Riley looked at his competitors still setting up.

“Eat your heart out, Channel Four.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How was that for action?! Let me know what you thought. This chapter is dedicated to Sevvy_O, dreamgirl4eva, jenny and reciprocity.

OK, so from what Pari said, i gathered that my storytelling was too much like the actual movie. Well, i'm sorry if that put anyone off, and i will try to make it more Spuffy and less like the movie. The thing is, i've already written the next 2 chapters so i will post those both as one chapter and it will be in similar format to this, ie, not veering from the plot. But by chapter 6 i'll make a BIG change that wasn't in the plot of the Die Hard movie. I hope that will take away the 'P' work that may have been floating about in peoples minds.

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Disclaimer-: Please don't sue me Fox Studios! i only wanted to make Die Hard a spuffy story for us spuffy fans!

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On the thirtieth floor the hostages were shaken and the terrorists guarding them weren’t too sure of themselves either. Only Adam was calm and collected.

“They're using artillery on us!” Franco panicked.

“You idiot, it's not the police...It's him.” Adam told him.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike picked up the CB and spoke.

“Harris? Harris, the guys in the car, did they make it?”

Out on the street Xander watched as the survivors were pulled out of the wreck and to safety.

“Safe and sound, thanks to you. What the fuck was that?” Xander asked him.

“The plastique I found.” Then he asked worriedly, “Is the building on fire?”

“No, but it's gonna need one hell of a paint job and a shitload of screen doors. One spotter say you got two with that blast.”

“Two? Are you sure?”

But before Xander could answer Giles came running up to him.Before Powell can answer Robinson comes running up to him.

“Is that him?”

“Yes sir.”

Giles reached for Xander’s CB.

“Give me that.” The he yelled angrily at Spike. “Now, listen to me, mister, I don't know what you think you're doing, but demolishing a building doesn't fall under the definition of 'help'! There's hundreds of people out here and you covered half of them in pieces of glass…”

“Glass, my ass! Who the fuck is this?” Spike told him.

“This is Deputy Chief of Police Rupert Giles, and I'm in charge of this situation.”

Spike leaned tiredly against the elevator door.

“Well, from up here, it looks like you're in charge of shit, Rupert. I haven't seen such a fucked up operation since the Bride of Frankenstein. Ask the guys in the armoured car if they minded a little flying glass.”

“Listen asshole…!” Giles yelled.

The Spike really exploded.

“Asshole? I'm not the one who just got butt fucked on national TV, Rupert!”

Xander stifled a laugh, and several other authority figures around the car park with radios grinned in shock. Down in the limo, Robin yelled out his agreement.

“Now if you're not part of the solution, stop being part of the problem! Get off the Goddamn radio and put Xander back on!” Spike said. He was taking crap from no one now.

Robin nodded in agreement.

“Tell 'em, Mr. Mac! Tell 'em!”

Spike was still seething and then there was a long pause on the CB before Xander came on again.

“Hello, Roy. How're you feeling?”

“Pretty fucking unappreciated.” Spike told him.

Other officers, including Giles, monitored the conversation.

“Hey, I love you.” Xander told him, looking around “So do a lot of the guys. So hang in there, man. Hang in there.”

Spike was touched. “Thanks...partner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the hostage floor, Adam had wheeled a TV into the room with the terrorists. On the TV, a woman called Gail was reporting from a TV studio on the events at the Nakatomi building.

“...of the Nakatomi building, sources say that the terrorist leader 'Adam' may be this man, Adam Walsh.”

A slide of Adam appeared behind her.

“A member of the radical West German Volksfrei movement. Strangely, the Volksfrei leadership issued a communique an hour ago stating that Walsh has been expelled from the organization and is operating on his own.

Gail’s partner Harvey added, “Obviously, Gail whatever his affiliation, it's safe to say that Adam's terrorist actions in Los Angeles tonight are well, terroristic...”

As the bullshit continued, Parker suddenly stood, and headed towards the terrorist "office". Immediately Fritz moved to intercept him.

“Where are you going?” Buffy whispered.

“I'm tired of sitting here waiting to see who gets us killed first... them...or your husband.”

‘Shit, shit, if he says anything about Spike I’ll fucking kill him’ she mentally cursed.

Parker approached Fritz casually.

“Hi there.”

“What are you going to do?” Buffy asked.

“Hey, I negotiate million dollar deals for breakfast. I can handle these clowns.”

Then he turned to Fritz.

“I want to talk to Adam. Adam! Sprickenzie talk?”

He doesn't wait for an answer but walks straight on as Fritz follows him. Buffy looks on after him, worrying about what Parker would say to save his own ass, and how much of it could hurt Spike.

In the office Adam and Karl were arguing.

“You wouldn't let me kill him when I had the chance…”

“If you'd listened to me he would be neutralized already!”

“I don't want neutral...I want dead…” Karl yelled.

They all turn as they hear a tap on the door.

“Hope I'm not interrupting...?” Parker asked, clearly not caring if he was interrupting or not.

“What does he want?” Adam asked Fritz, who simply shrugged.

“It's not what I want, it's what I can give you. Look, let's be straight, okay? It's obvious you're not some dumb thug up here to snatch a few purses, am I right?” Parker told him.

Karl looked at Parker and then at Adam, as if to say, let me plug this asshole right now. But Hans was either amused or curious or bored enough to shake his head. He turned to Parker and spoke politely.

“You're very perceptive.”

Parker was flattered.

“Hey, I read the papers, I watch 60 minutes, I say to myself, these guys are professionals, they're motivated, they're happening. They want something. Now, personally, I don't care about your politics. Maybe you're pissed at the Camel Jockeys, maybe it's the Hebes, Northern Ireland, that's none of my business. I figure, You're here to negotiate, am I right?”

Adam replied in a condescending tone.

“You're amazing. You figured this all out already?”

“Hey, business is business. You use a gun, I use a fountain pen, what's the difference? To put it in my terms, you're here on a hostile takeover and you grab us for some greenmail but you didn't expect a poison pill was gonna be running around the building. Adam, baby...I'm your white knight.”

Adam spoke dryly. “I must have missed 60 Minutes. What are you saying?”

Parker smiled, knowing the next bit of information he was going to offer would be something they couldn’t refuse.

“The guy upstairs who's fucking things up? I can give him to you.”

Adam’s eyes lit up and he reacted with real interest for the first time.

Down in the car park, Xander heard Spike groan through the CB.

“Roy! You all right?” Xander asked him.

Inside Spike was sitting by an open desk drawer, having just ripped open a package of Twinkies he had found. He grimaced, mouth full, and responded.

“Yeah, just trying to handle some year old twinkies.” He managed to swallow the mouthful, and shook his head tyring to get rid of the foul after taste. He knew he had to eat something to keep up his strength but did these really qualify as food?

“Yucck. What do they put in these things?”

Xander unconsciously began to recite the ingredients to him.

“'Sugar, enriched flour, partially hydrogenated vegetable oil, polysorbate 60 and yellow dye number 5.'”

Spike chuckled into the CB,

“You sound like a man with a couple of kids.”

“Not yet, the wife in working on our first. You got any kids back on the ranch?”

Spike swallowed another Twinkie with a grimace, and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it to a picture of himself, Buffy and the kids in happier days. He smiled at the picture as he remembered how he felt when that photo had been taken, happy, content, then fucking vocations had to come along and screw it all up. As he looked at the picture he vowed that when this was all over and he had Buffy back in his arms he would never let anything come between them. Coming this close to death had made him realise just how much he should be valuing his life. He had an amazing wife who had taken so much and two kids who he loved unconditionally and wanted to watch grow up.

“Two. And I'd sure like to see them swinging on the jungle gym with Xander junior.”

“It's a date. You buy the ice cream.”

Spike laughed, staring at the photo when suddenly another voice bedie Xander’s came over the radio. It was the cruel and malicious voice of Adam.

“Touching, cowboy, touching… Or should I call you Mister McClane? Mister officer Spike McClane of the NYPD?”

‘Shit’ Spike cursed mentally. How much did they know. Fuck, fuck, if they knew his name, they might know Buffy was his wife…then he remembered the sign on her door which listed her as ‘Ms Buffy Summers’. Earlier he had been pissed at that fact, but now he was thanking god for it.

Outside in his trailer, Riley heard Spike’s real name spoken over the CB and wroted down the name handing it to his assistant.

“Get on the phone to our New York affiliate...move, move!”

Xander heard this too and signalled an Aide who wrote down the name too.

Spike fought with all his strength to stay calm.

“Sister Teresa in third grade called me Mr. McClane. My friends call me Spike Mac. You're neither...shithead.”

“I have someone who wants to talk to you. A very special friend who was at the party with you tonight.”

Spike’s face fell. ‘Fuck no, oh god, please no’. He closed his eyes, waiting for the voice that would tell him it was all over.

“Hello, Spike boy?”

Spike’s eyes flew open with a mix of shock and hope. That wasn’t Buffy, it was that got Parker.

“Parker?” He asked warily down the CB line. Was his mind playing some sick joke on him to make him think that he had heard Parker instead of Buffy?

Down in Buffy’s office Parker was smoking a cigarette and a terrorist handed him a diet coke. Treating him like he really was their white knight, as he had so ‘aptly’ described himself earlier.

“Spike, they're giving me a few minutes to try and talk some sense into you. I know you think you're doing your job, and I can appreciate that, but you're just dragging this thing out. None of us gets out of here until these people can negotiate with the LA police, and they're just not gonna start doing that until you stop messing up the works.”

“Parker, what have you told them?” Spike asked carefully.

“I told them we're old friends and you were my guest at the party.”

Spike sighed partially relieved, then his eyes narrowed,

“Parker...you shouldn't be doing this...”

“Tell me about it.”

He looked at Adam who gave him a nod.

“All right...Spike, listen to me... They want you to tell them where the detonators are. They know people are listening. They want the detonators of they're going to kill me.”

Parker gave Adam a big ‘OK’ sign, and Adam returned it. Ellis gives Hans a big "ok" sign. Hans returns it.

In the police trailer they were all listening intently. Spike closed his eyes and leant his head back. He knew what was going to happen, even if Parker, the poor bastard that he was, didn’t.

“Spike, didn't you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you, you fucking moron!” Spike spoke quietly into his CB.

“Spike, I think you could get with the program a little. The police are here now. It's their problem. Tell these guys where the detonators are so no one else gets hurt. Hey, I'm putting my life on the line for you buddy...”

“Don't you think I know that! Put Adam on! Adam, listen to me, that shithead doesn't know what kind of scum you are, but I do…”

“Good. Then you'll give us what we want and save your friend's life. You're not part of this equation. It's time to realize that.”

Adam told him, taking out his gun and pointing it at Parker’s head, smiling. Parker smiled back.

“What am I, a method actor? Adam, babe, put away the gun. This is radio, not television...”

Spike hearing that a gun had just been put into the equation stood up quickly and bellowed down the CB.

“That asshole's not my friend! I barely know him! I hate his fucking guts…” Spike pleaded with Parker.

Spike knew how much he had pissed the terrorists off, and they were just itching to get some revenge on him, or someone close to him.

“Parker, for Christ's sake, tell him you don't mean shit to me…”

“Spike, how can you say that, after all these years…? Spike? Spike?”

But all he heard was silence. Parker looked at Adam and shrugged as if to say, ‘well I tried’. and

Adam nodded understandably, then took the CB, pressing the TALK button and in one frighteningly smooth motion brought the Walther up to Parker’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

Spike was expecting the shot, but the shock and the fact that he had killed him sent a chill racing though him.

On the hostage floor, Buffy knew that it had been suicide. She lowered her head dejectedly, while the other hostages around her went crazy as they saw Parker’s blood splattered on the glass wall .

Adam threw the door open to let Spike and the police hear the scream of the hostages through the CB.

“Hear that? Talk to me, where are my detonators. Where are they or shall I shoot another one? Sooner or later...I might get to someone you do care about.” Adam yelled, completely losing his cool demeanour and all patience he had shown before.

Spike was screaming inside, but knew that he was bluffing. If he shot more hostages he wouldn’t get what he wanted from the police. But could he take the risk that Buffy could be shut.

The he made his decision and spoke evenly into the CB…

“Go fuck yourself.”

…and disconnected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside Xander desperately fended off Giles who wanted the CB fends off Robinson, who wants the CB.

“Goddamn, didn't you hear him! He practically pulled the Goddamned trigger himself… he gave that man to them…”

“Christ, can't you read between the lines! He did everything he could to save him...if he gave himself up they'd both be dead!” Xander said, leaping to Spikes’ defence.

“Maybe. And maybe they'd at least be talking to us! Now tell your 'partner' to stay out of it, or so help me if he lives through this I'll put him behind bars myself!”
Xander was amused, and fuming at the same time.

“He's alone, tired, hunted, and hasn't seen diddly-squat from us and you think he gives a flying fuck about what you're going to do to him? Giles, wake up and smell the shit you're shoveling!

Giles straightened up and responded in a cold voice.

“Anytime you want to go home, Sergeant...consider yourself dismissed.”

They locked eyes as Xander spoke,

“No Sir. You couldn't drag me away.”

They were interrupted as Adam’s voice came over the CB.

“Attention police. Attention police.”

Xander started to speak, “This is…” But Giles snatched the CB away.

“This is Deputy Chief Giles. Who is this?”

INTERCUT:
In Buffy's office Adam responded.

“This is Adam Walsh. I assume you realize the futility of direct action against me. We have no wish for further loss of life.”

“What do you wish for, Mister Walsh?”

“I have comrades in arms around the world who are languishing in prison. The American State Department enjoys rattling its saber to its own ends... now it can rattle it for me.”

Listening to this with astonishment, dismay and outright derisive amusement, Spike paced back and forth by the desk.

“...The following people are to be released from their captors…” Adam continued, “…In Northern Ireland, the seven members of the New Provo Front. In Canada, the five imprisoned leaders of Liberte de Quebec, in Sri Lanka, the nine members of the Asian Dawn movement...”

In the office Karl looked at Adam, “Asian Dawn Movement?”

Off the mike Adam shrugged, “I read about them in Time magazine.”

Then he returned to the mike, “When these Revolutionary Brothers and Sisters are Free, the hostages in this building will be taken to the roof and they will accompany us in helicopters to the Los Angeles International Airport where you will be given further instructions. You have two hours to comply.”

“Two hours? Are you insane? I can't authorize...hello? Hello?” Giles cried down the radio.

“Do you think they'll even try to do it?” Karl asked him.

“Who cares?” Adam dismissed, then on another channel he spoke to Theo.

“Theo. Are we on schedule?”

In the vault room Theo and Kristoff had been rewarded with another lock deactivation.

“One more to go...then it's up to you.” Theo told him.

On the screen flashed… "WARNING: ELECTRO-MAGNETIC SEAL ARMED." *

“And you better be right, because this one's going to take a miracle.”

“It's Christmas, Theo, it's the time of miracles. So be of good cheer and call me when you hit the last lock.” Adam said before disconnecting.

“Karl...hunt the little shit down and get those detonators.”
*
“Franco is checking the explosives, Fritz is with him.

“I'll check the explosives. You just get those detonators.” Adam ordered.

On the thirty second floor Spike patrolled the floor he’d staked out, constantly looking into every dark corner, gun held ready, he moved toward the stairwell.

“Harris? Xander, you there?

“I'm here, cowboy.”

“Speaking of cows, did you ever hear so much bullshit in your life? Two hours? That doesn't even make any sense…”

“Don't tell me, partner. I'm just a desk jockey who was on the way home when you rang.”

“The way you drove that car, I figured you for the streets.”

“In my youth, partner. In my youth.”

In the TV studio Gail and Harvey were interviewing a man from the Senator Paul Simon's school of grooming.

“...author of... 'Hostage/Terrorist, Terrorist/Hostage, a Study in Duality.' Dr. Hasseldorf, what can we expect in the next few hours?” Gail asked.

“Well, Gail, by this time the hostages and their captors should be entering the early stages of the Helsinki Syndrome.” Hasseldorf told her.

“As in Helsinki, Sweden?” Harvey asked.

“Uh...Finland. Basically, it's when the hostages and the terrorists go through a sort of psychological transference and projection of dependency...”

In the Nakatomi building, the TV report was on the TV in Buffy’s office. Fritz was dragging Parker’s body out of the office and he threw it on the floor.

Hasseldorf continued his interview.

“…What can only be described as a strange sort of trust and bond develops...We've had situations where hostages have embraced their captors after their release and in one case even corresponded with them in prison...”

On the machine room floor Adam turned and looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. Setting his gun down on a buttress he started to climb up.

Outside Giles conferred with a young cop.

“The...the FBI? Here? Now?”

“Yes sir. Right over there.” The cop informed him.

Giles looked at Xander, adjusting his clothes and straightening his tie as Xander asked dryly,

“You want a breath mint?”

Giles simply glared at hi as they both walked towards a large, dark government car that had approached.

To FBI agents stepped out, one larger than the other. They stepped towards Giles and Xander. The larger one had short spiky brown hair and a brooding brow, while the other had glasses, and hair that was slightly longer than the others.

“I'm Special Agent Angel Pryce of the FBI. This is Agent Wesley Pryce...no relation.”

Stepping forward with a fake smile plastered on his face, Giles extended his hand.

“Rupert Giles, LAPD. I'm in charge here.”

“Not any more.” Angel told him, ignoring his extended hand.

On the mechanical floor, Adam checked the plastique. He was not pleased. He turns and suddenly dropped to his knees, a pair of bare feet in his eye line.

Spike stood in front of him, gun aimed directly at Adam’s forehead.

“Lost?” Spike asked him.

Adam turned his head, the transformation in his expression and bearing was mind- boggling. Hands shaking, eyes filled with fear, he swallowed, looking up at Spike and in a perfect American accent spoke,

“ohGodplease … don't kill me … don't kill me … you're one of them, I know it…”

Spike was thrown, unsure,

“Whoa, whoa, easy mate. I won't hurt you. Who are you? What are you looking for?”

Adam’s eyes darted towards the buttress ten feet away.

“A way up to the roof...I thought I could signal for help…”

Adam started in that direction but Spike stopped him.

“Forget it. They got a guy up there. You want to stay alive, keep moving. Hey? You hear me?”

Adam, realising this tack wouldn’t work, followed Spike.

“You...you're English?” Adam asked.
Spike spoke kindly to him, easing the man’s fears.

“London born and bred, moved here when I was twenty.”

The ‘poor frightened civilian’ that Adam was acting like, showed a hint of a smile. CUT TO:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside Giles was in conversation with Angel and Wesley.

“We've got thirty, maybe thirty-five hostages, probably on the 30th floor... seven, maybe eight terrorists.” Giles informed them.

“Sounds like a standard A-7 scenario.” Wesley told Angel, who nodded in agreement.

“Thank you. We'll handle it from here. When we need to commandeer your men, we'll try and let you know.” Angel told Giles.

They started to move away when Xander stopped them.

“Aren't you forgetting something?”

Angel and Wesley turned to him. All Giles wanted was for Xander to shut up.

“Such as...?” Angel asked.

Xander pointed to the building.

“Spike McClane! He's the man who gave us all the information we've got! He's the reason you're facing seven terrorists instead of twelve.”

“He's inside? Who is he?” Wesley asked.

“He may be a cop...we're checking on that” Xander said, pleased that someone seemed to be taking an interest in Spike’s welfare.

“One of yours?” Angel asked Giles who responded far too quickly,

“No, sir.”

After a moment Angel came to a decision.

“If he's not a terrorist, and he's not a hostage...he's just not part of the equation.”

They started to walk away when Xander spoke again, indignant,

“T...that's the same Goddamn thing the terrorists said!”

Wesley became interested, “Really?” Then he turned to Angel, “That's one good thing. Sound like we're dealing with pros.”

Angel nodded and they left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the machine floor, Spike and Adam walked together, Adam talking to Spike, spewing out a load of bullshit about who he was. Spike had absolutely no who the ‘terrified hostage’ next to him really was.

“There was a party … celebration … all of a sudden they were there … shooting … threatening us …”

Spike looked at the poor civilian, on the edge of going to pieces. He placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Relax, mate...you smoke?”

Adam nodded, still "frightened". Spike took out his spoils of war, the Marlboros. Two left, he sighed, taking one he offered the other one with an expression like a little boy forced to share a cookie. He took out his lighter and lit his and then Adam’s, who nodded, grateful then peered at Spike.

“You...you don't work for Nakatomi...and if you're not one of them...”

“I'm a cop from New York.”

Adam acted puzzled.

“New York...”

Spike explained,

“They invited me to the Xmas party. Who knew?”

Someone was clearly watching over Spike, because so far he hadn’t mentioned Buffy. If he had, Adam would know exactly who to go for to really hurt Spike.

Adam looked at Spike’s bare feet.

“Better than being caught with your pants down, right?” Spike smiled and extended his hand. “Spike McClane.”

Adam shook his hand, “William Clay. Call me Bill.”

Spike nodded in a friendly way, and his eyes glanced casually at the wall where a roster of names in alphabetical order hung. He scanned the C’s

S.: CLAY, WM.: CRAWFORD, L...

Spike looked back at Adam, or as far as he knew, Bill.

“Bill, you know how to use a handgun?”

Adam spoke, hesitant.

“One weekend I went to a combat ranch... You know, that game with the, the guns that shoot red paint? Must sound pretty silly to you...”

“Sounds better than nothing.”

Spike took out his Baretta, popping out the magazine, and then jamming in a fresh one and handed it to him.

“Time for the real thing.”

Spike walked on until he heard a familiar click behind him.

Adam was well, Adam again. The baretta was aimed at Spike’s face. He spoke calmly into his radio in German.

“Karl! Franco! I'm on 33. Come quickly.”

Then he spoke to Spike.

“Put down your gun and give me my detonators.”

Spike simply looked at him

“Adam. Your Adam.”

Adam nodded, indicating Spike’s gun again.

“Put it down now.”

“That was tricky, with the accent. I bet you do a great Ed Sullivan. Why do you need the detonators, Adam? I already used the explosives.”

“I'm going to count to three...”

Spike spoke, his voice cold,

“Yeah. Like you did with Takagi.”

Spike raised his machine gun and aimed at Adam, but before Spike could shoot Adam pulled the trigger aiming at Spike’s head…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike didn’t even blink when, instead of a gunshot, there was a ‘Click’. Adam pulled the trigger again in astonishment. Click-click-click. Spike stepped in carefully, reclaiming his pistol.

“You think I'm a shmuch, Adam.”

Adam paled, then heard the ding of an approaching elevator.

“You were saying.”

Spike whirled around in time to see Karl, Franco and Fritz exiting the elevator firing. Spike fired back, killing Fritz. Karl and Franco took cover ad Spike ducked into a water cooler alcove glancing back at where Adam was but he was gone, a swinging office door the only evidence of his passing.

‘Shit, fuck’ Spike cursed himself before he dove into a bank of computers where he ducked and dodged as bullets pinged and ricochet all around him. He ducked and rolled, firing at Franco. Spike’s bullets raked his middle throwing Franco over a desk, his weapon flying. Franco’s body slid into a glass door which smashed around him, blood fountained out of severed arteries

Spike stood, hope rising within him at the prospect of an equal battle, but his face suddenly fell as bullets flew into the room from an unexpected direction.
Spike turned to see that Adam had re-entered the room and acquired Francos’s weapon. Spike fired at him while running to keep from being flanked. One of his shots shattered a glass panel, which rained down near Adam who escaped with only superficial scratches.

Adam looked at the glass around him and an idea formed in his head.

“The glass! Shoot the glass!” He cried in German and shot at the glass all around him, Karl followed suit

As glass flew everywhere Spike saw only one option, and took it. He blasted a burst of bullets to keep Adam and Karl’s heads down, and whirled, jumping onto the top of a long counter and ran across it, their bullets flowed him merely six inches behind his moving form. Big grey units groaned with electronic squeals and sparks as a million gigabytes drifted to RAM heaven. Spike reached the end of the counter and dove off, rolling to the floor. His foot landed right on a jagged shard of glass. He groaned in pain but kept on running, knowing his life depended on it, the thought of seeing Buffy again, giving his a new burst of speed, and he slammed into the stairwell door and out, gone, safe.

Karl was pissed as hell, his brothers murderer had escaped again. Behind him, Adam sifted through the rubble, then came over, smiling, holding the bag of detonators.

“Smile, Karl. We are back in business.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Riley’s trailer, Hasseldorf was still on TV explaining the mentality behind terrorists actions.

“...all depends on what we mean by "Terror.' If Clauswitz could say 'War is the last resort of Deplomacy,' couldn't we just as well say that terrorism has an equal claim to...”

Riley’s assistant, Mary, came in grinning ear to ear. Riley looked up from his danish, a cute little chin napkin was protecting his shirt collar.
“You got something?”

Waving a paper she replied, “Just McClane's name, badge number, police record, vital statistics...” and here was the ringer “...And his family's address right here in L.A.”

Riley’s eyes lit up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie and Uli were guarding the hostages as Adam and Karl returned. are guarding the hostages. Adam tossed the bag of detonators to Uli, who grinned and left.

Buffy watched all this nervously, her face pale. She had seen them leave and knew something was wrong and prayed that someone would watch over Spike. Willow’s eyes followed Karl who didn’t share the mood of the others.

“That one look pissed, Buffy...”

“Thank God.” She sighed relieved. “He's still alive.” Buffy explained.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upstairs, Spike pushed a bathroom door open, and all but crawled in, His dragging foot leaving a trail of blood on the linoleum.

In the Vault room Theo and Kristoff were delighted as they got the massage…

SIXTH LOCK DEACTIVATED.

Suddenly a buzzer sounded and the graphic flashed:
"ELECTROMAGNETIC SEAL ENGAGED. CANNOT BE DISARMED AT THIS LOCATION. TERMINATE SEQUENCE (Y/N)?"

“You better heat up that miracle you were talking about. We broke through on Number Six, and the Electromagentic came down like a sledgehammer...” He spoke into his CB.


“Well have a look at what our friends outside are doing and I'll be right up.”

In the bathroom, wincing in pain, Spike washed his foot in a sink basin. He washed a deep cut, and soaped it, but the pain did not relent

When a voice spoke, Spike jumped before realising it was the CB.

“Roy? You still with us?” Xander asked.

“Yeah. But all things being equal, I'd rather be in Philadelphia. By the way, chalk up two more terrorists.”

“They boys'll be glad. We got a pool going on you.”

Spike tried to wrap paper towels on his foot but it still hurt like hell, the pain shooting through him like a prolonged lightening bolt.

Through his teeth he asked, “Yeah? What's the odds?”

“You don't want to know.”

Suddenly Spike remembered an NYPD course in first aid, and removed his improvised bandage, and checked the cut more carefully. As he worked he continued talking to Xander.

“Put me down for twenty anyway...I'm good for it...so, what got you off the street, Harris? You liked lousy coffee, or what?”

Xander didn’t answer right away, the memory still painful. Speaking of pain, Spike swallowed, seeing a gleam inside his foot. He gingerly probed and pulled out a shard of glass almost three inches long from its angled gash, his mouth twisted in a silent scream all the way.

“I...realized I couldn't do what I had to anymore...at least not out there. I had an...accident.” Xander spoke quietly.

Spike threw the glass across the room, forehead bathed in sweat.

“They way you drive, I can see why.” Spike joked.

“I...I shot a kid.” Xander admitted.

‘Shit’ Spike thought, ‘bad time to make a joke, way to go mate.’

Xander’s voice came across the CB, soft and quiet,

“Eleven years ago. Oh, it was dark... he was big for his age...damn ray gun he had looked real enough...yeah, I had all the right excuses...but afterwards...I really couldn't draw my gun again.

“I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make a joke of it.” Spike told him sombrely.

“Hey, you couldn't know.” Xander told him

“I still feel like shit.”

“Then this won't matter…” Xander paused, before reluctantly adding “LAPD's not calling the shots anymore.”

‘Great, now it was more than likely down to the FBI. Could it get any worse? If that bloody police officer Rupert wouldn’t listen to him, what chance did he have at getting through to the FBI. They were probably some stuck up, think they know it all nancy boy agents who should be working behind a desk, not at the front line of a major terrorist hostage take over.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside Adam and Theo leant over a monitor watching a DWP truck near the parking garage.

Theo tapped the screen. “There's the city engineers...they're going into the street circuits...But who are these guys in the suits?”

“That's the FBI...ordering them to cut the building's power. They're as regular as clockwork...or a time lock...the circuits that cannot be cut... are cut automatically in reponse to a terrorist incident... You ask for miracles, Theo...I give you the FBI...” Adam smiled gleefully.

“When you're hot, you're hot.” Theo smirked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside, Giles, Angel and Wesley were gathered by a manhole with a city engineer. Another engineer finished welding a last connection. CUT TO: *
“We're spliced in down the line.” The engineer told them.

“Do it...now.” Wesley ordered.

The engineer threw giant leavers, and inside the manhole sparks sizzled and massive contacts clunked. One by one, all the lights on every floor went out.

In the bathroom, Spike ripped off his shirt and tied it around his bloody foot. With his free hand he talked into his CB.

“Harris? What's going on?”

Outside Xander watched the others. “Ask the FBI. They've got the terrorist playbook and they're running it, step by step.”

Spike knew this meant that trouble wasn’t far around the corner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


In the vault room Theo, Kristoff and Adam huddled over a computer monitor screen as if it were a warm fireplace.

A portable generator hummed as the lights went out, but the computer screen stayed on. Theo looked over at the safe, which still read…

"FIBER OPTIC TIME LOCK CANNOT BE DISARMED AT THIS LOCATION. TERMINATE SEQUENCE (Y/N)?"

“Damn! It didn't go!” Kristoff cursed.

“They're on the building circuit...it's too local.” Theo deduced.

“Encourage them to be bolder.” Adam urged.

“The only thing left for them is the City Grid...They may not do it.” Theo told him, worried.

Outside, Angel and Wesley looked very smug with themselves, but all of a sudden, all the floors lit up again one by one.

“Shit!” Wesley cursed. Turning to the engineer he issued orders. “Cut it again. Go wider.”

“I can't go wider here...” He explained, and turned to Giles looking for help. “...I'd have to call downtown have them take down one of the city grids...you're talking ten square blocks…”

“…ten blocks?!” Giles exclaimed then spoke to Angel. “Are you crazy? It's Christmas Eve, thousands of people … the Mayor'll scream bloody murder…”

But Angel ignored him and turned his attention to the engineer. “We must shut down the building. Go wider…!”

“I need authorization.”

“Authorization? How about the United States Fucking Government? Lose the grid or lose your job!” Angel snarled.

The engineer looked at Giles, and then his partner in the manhole who shrugged. He had no choice. He picked up his phone.

“Central. This is Walt, out at Nakatomi. I want you to shut down grid 212.” He listened for a few seconds then spoke again. “No shit, it's my ass. Just shut it down now.”

After a few moments all of the lights in the Nakatomi building ceased to shine. In the vault room emergency lighting bathed the room in a dull glow. An alarm beeped three times and the LED display on the safe changed to…

"FIBER OPTIC TIME LOCK DEACTIVATED AT SOURCE. SEVENTH LOCK DISENGAGED."

And the vault door opened with a hum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That should shake'em up. With all the power shut down, those bastards are probably scared shitless.” Angel smirked.

However in the vault room, the ‘bastards’ weren’t exactly scared shitless.

Theo and Kristoff laughed, giving each other high fives. Even Adam lost his usual cool, and gave Theo a slap on the back and Theo and Kristoff cheered at their success.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley’s truck drove along a residential street. He checked a map location and pointed directions to the driver.

Outside the Nakatomi building Xander looked up at the dark structure, lit only by emergency lighting. He sidled over to the FBI men and spoke dryly.

“What do we do now, arrest them for not paying their electric bill?”

Wesley replied sharply. “We let them sweat awhile. Then, when they're expecting helicopters...We give them helicopters...”

Angel nodded in agreement. “Right up the ass.” Then he spoke into another communicator. This is Pryce...no the other one. I want that air support ready to lift off in five minutes...Damn right fully armed. We're on our way.” Then into the CB he spoke again. “Attention in the building.”

While Theo and Kristoff tackled the problem of unloading the racks and racks of bonds and transferring them to black cases, Adam responded to Angel.

“This is Adam...”

“This is Agent Pryce of the FBI. The State Department has arranged for the release of your comrades. The helicopters you requested are on the way.”

“I hear you, FBI. We'll be ready.”

He disconnected at Theo and smiled at Theo.

“When they touch down and we blow the roof, they'll spend a month sifting through the bodies and rubble. By the time they figure out what went wrong...” He smiled at the irony, “...we'll be earning twenty percent like nice fat Capitalists.”

Down in the car park Angel disconnected and smiled. BIG JOHNSON
“By the time he figures out what hit him he'll be in a body bag.”

Angel and Wesley left Xander and Giles looking very unhappy. Xander’s CB hissed as Spike came through.

“Harris, listen...”

Xander moved off to be alone.

“I'm here, Spike.”

Spike tried to walk on his foot, wincing in pain, completely at the end of his resources. He took a long pause, thinking of how exactly to word it. He had a feeling something really bad was waiting just around the corner theta he didn’t think he was gonna make it out of.

“Look...I'm getting a bad feeling up here...I'd like you to do something for me. Look up my wife...don't ask how, you'll know by then...and tell her...tell her...I've been a jerk. When things panned out for her, I should've been behind her all the way...We had something great going until I screwed it up...She was the best thing that ever happened to a bum like me. She's heard me say I love you a thousand times, but she never got to hear this...honey...I'm sorry.”

Spike took in a shaky breath, not because of the pain, but because of the emotions welling up like a tornado inside of him.

“You get all that?”

Xander was touched. “I got it. But you can tell her yourself. Just watch your ass and you'll make it.”

“I hope so. But that's up to the guy upstairs.” Spike paused, as a thought struck him. “Upstairs...” He thought to himself for a moment. “...Adam, you bastard...what were you doing?”

“Roy?”

“Stand by, Harris. I gotta check something out.”

Spike moved towards the door, and limped hurriedly out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At Buffy’s home, Riley stood with one foot in the doorway but since Glory still had the chain on, it wasn’t quite enough.

“One minute, that's all we ask. You could be denying them their last chance to talk to their parents.” Riley pleaded with her.

“I'm sorry...Mrs. Buffy says I couldn't let strangers into…”

“Strangers? I'm with KFLW TV, that's affiliated with the FCC, and I'm sure you know that's the United States government...just like the INS?”

And Glory wavered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike hobbled onto the mechanical floor, retracing his steps from earlier, mentally replaying his meeting with Adam.

“I was here...he was...”

His eyes flicked over the area...then he looked up. Something caught his eye and he stepped closer. He set down his CB and climbed up on a thick pipe and flicked his lighter on, holding it high. The light from the flame illuminated the area and what Spike saw made his blood run cold, explosives everywhere. He quickly extinguished the lighter and followed the detonator lines with his eyes.

“Oh my God...” He gasped as he realised Adam’s plan.

He dropped to the floor, wincing in pain, and picked up his CB.

“Harris! Harris, listen to me! You're being double crossed! The whole roof of this building is…” But he stopped abruptly and stiffened as a gun barrel was pressed against his head.

Spike’s eyes flitted to the owner of the gun and saw Karl at the other end, who took Spike’s Baretta, tossing it away. Then he took his CB and smashed it under his foot.

Outside, Xander was in one of the radio monitoring officers.

“Roy? Hello? Hello?” He turned to the officer. “I thought you had him.”

“I did. He said something about a, a double cross...”

“Tell me about it.” Xander replied, looking off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the machine room Karl hovered over Spike who hadn’t moved a muscle.

Karl spoke quietly. “We're both professionals. But this is personal. You...are done.”

Without warning, Spike drove his elbow into Karl’s face and he dropped his weapon to the floor and Spike followed his fist blow with a second. Karl recovered with a spinning kick which caught Spike in his midsection, slamming him back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the hostage floor, Eddie turned from a window, where two chopper lights loomed closer.

“They're coming.” He informed the others.

Adam nodded and stood, but something on the television caught his attention.


“I know you're proud of your daddy...”

Buffy turned her head and saw the TV, and shock overcame her as she saw the news reporter Riley Finn was at her house, interviewing Anne and William. His voice was warm and comforting, but that did not surpass the anger, fear and shock she was feeling.

“...because he's a very brave policeman. And your mom has shown just as much courage. But is there something you would like to say to them if they're watching?”

William said nothing, but Anne looked at the camera, and her innocent, sweet voice came through.

“Come home.”

Buffy struggled to stay composed and nonchalant but hearing her seeing her children on the television and hearing her daughters plea brought down the barrier she had tried desperately to hold up, and she slowly turned her head to look at Adam.

Adam turned around and his gaze fell on the picture of the children on her desk. He turned back to look at her and smiled.

“Mrs. McClane. How nice to make your acquaintance.”

He raised his weapon... fear shot though Buffy and thoughts rushed through her mind.

‘Oh Spike, I’m sorry for everything I said or did that made you think I didn’t love you.’

‘Anne William, I will always love you…’

‘My god, this is it,’

‘Thank you Spike for everything you’ve done to try and save me…to save us all.’

‘Please God, if he’s still alive watch over him and keep him safe.’

But instead of shooting Buffy, Adam shot into the ceiling, making the hostages jump and everyone started screaming.

“On your feet, everyone! Upstairs, now!”

He whispered to Uli, “You'll lock them up there and come right down...”

Uli nodded and he and Eddie herded everyone towards the stairs. Adam moved forward and grabbed Buffy, pulling her along with him and out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN-: OK, so I’ve changed the plot here after Pari gave me some advice, and an idea from reciprocity. Its still Die Hard, but more Spuffy now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


On the machine floor Spike and Karl moved towards each other, sizing the other up.

“Better this way, isn't it? I mean, any faggot can shoot a gun.”

Karl charged at Spike, and the two men fought brutally, delivering kicks and punches to the others body.

“You should've heard your brother scream when I broke his fucking neck…” Spike taunted as Karl stepped in with a deadly move. Spike twisted free and slammed an elbow into Karl’s kidney who backed off and circled Spike with a new respect, knowing he was facing a worthy enemy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside an FBI chopper, Angel and Wesley were ready with mikes and helmets on. Angel checked the aerial maps while Wesley checked the ammo clips for his sniper scoped assault rifle.

“Stay low. They're expecting transports, not gunships.” Angel advised the pilot.

“What do you figure on breakage?” Wesley asked Angel.

“I figure we take out all the terrorists, and lose 20 percent of the hostages...25, tops.” Angel said casually.

“I can live with those numbers.” Wesley smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the vault Adam and Eddie entered, Buffy being pulled along. Theo and Kristoff looked at her in surprise.

“A little bonus for us. A policeman's wife might come in handy.” Adam smiled and shoved her violently towards Eddie, who held her in a vice grip.

“After all this, all your speeches...you're nothing but a common thief.”

“I'm an exceptional thief, Mrs. McClane. And now that I'm moving up to kidnapping, you should be more polite.”

“Get off me you bastard.” Buffy struggled in his grip, and threw her head back against Eddie’s face, hitting him square on the nose. He let go of her as his hands flew to his nose, and Buffy made a dash for it but her arm was caught in a vice grip and swung around to face Adam.

“I do appreciate violence.”

Adam sneered at her before bringing his hand hard across her face and sending her into unconsciousness. She threw her limp body towards Eddie who caught her.

“Take her somewhere and keep an eye on her. If she tries to escape again once she wakes…shoot her.” Eddie Picked her up and walked off.

Adam picked up a CB and spoke into it. “McClane! McClane! I have some news for you...McClane?”

Unknown to him, Spike’s CB had been rendered useless when Karl had smashed it, and now they were both fighting each other brutally, blood smeared over both of them.


Adam switched to another channel, “Karl? Karl?”

But he heard nothing. “Hurry.” He instructed Theo.


Up on the roof, Uli herded the last of the hostages out, shoving them onto the roof. The hostages could see the helicopters coming towards them, and cheered that the nightmare was almost over. Uli smiled, knowing full well what the helicopters were there for, and moved towards the door.

Down below, Karl drove Spike back with a sweeping head kick, and followed with another one, and added a punch to the mix. Spike fell backwards and drove his legs upwards, propelling Karl into the air, were he became entangled in a loop of chain hanging over a turbine.

Spike jumped to his feet, and yanked the other end of the chain. Karl was jerked upwards by the neck. He twitched as his face started to turn blue, desperate for oxygen.
Spike twisted the chain around a pipe as Karl’s body hung limp. He grabbed his Baretta from the floor and ran from the room.


Outside, Uli noticed a door rattling. He went towards it unaware of Spike’s presence behind it. Spike shot two bullets though the door and the cut through Uli’s body. Spike ran through the door and over Uli’s body, snatching up his machine gun on the way.

As the hostages screamed, Spike spotted Willow through the crowd. She turned and saw him and ran towards him. She embraced him.

“Oh my god Spike, I can’t believe your still alive.”

Spike wrapped his gun free hand around her.

“Where’s Buffy?“ He asked her.

“They took her … after they saw the kids on television…” Willow cried.

“What? God…” Spike groaned. ‘Shit, they know who she is’

He looked off to the choppers and remembered what he had seen before Karl had attacked him, and his blood ran cold.

“Listen to me Willow. You have to get downstairs.”

“What! Why? We’re about to be rescued…”

“This whole roof is rigged with explosives…now please get outta here.” She looked him in the eyes and saw exhaustion, guilt, grievance and fear.

“She’s still alive, you’d know if she wasn’t” She told him, before hugging him once more and running as fast as her baby laden body would let her, to the stairwell, pulling other hostages along with her.

“Listen to me! All of you, get down to the lower floors … you're all in danger.” Spike bellowed.

A male hostage looked at him in confusion. “What are you, crazy? We're being rescued! Those helicopters …”

“… there won't be shit for those helicopters to land on, because the whole top of this building is wired with explosives! Now get below…”

“But...we're safe up here…”

“Safe, my ass! This ain't a helipad, it's a launching pad!”


“GET BELOW! NOW!” Spike raised his gun, and started firing above the hostages heads. If he couldn’t tell them to leave, he could try and scare them into getting their asses to safety. They all screamed and ran to the door.

“Thank the bloody hell” He muttered and continued firing into the air to get the hostages to flee to actual safety. However he was unaware at what his good intentions looked like to the approaching FBI helicopters.

“Flight leader, this is Wing. I think they're on to us. One of the terrorists is firing on the hostages.”

“Roger, Wing. We copy.“ Wesley spoke into his mike. “Swing around. Give me a clear shot.” He told the pilot.


Spike herded the last of the hostages inside, then started for the door himself, when a roar of rotors belonging to the lead chopper zoomed overhead. Spike threw himself down on the ground, and looked up as the chopper banked in a tight turn and then from the open side gunfire erupted. Spike dove out of the way of the bullets as Angel and Wesley fired upon him.

“What the Fuck” Spike cried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Blow the roof. Now!” Adam told Kristoff.

“But Karl and Uli are up there…” Kristoff informed him desperately.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Up on the roof Spike avoided another round of bullets.

“You assholes, I'm on your side…!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam picked up the remote…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They turned and came in for another pass. Desperate, Spike looked around, and saw a fire hose. His brain screamed ‘NO’ but he ignored it and ran towards it. He quickly unravelled about 3 yards worth of hose, loped it around his back and under his legs and tied it. He looked over the edge and hesitated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Extended the Antenna…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Fuck this” he muttered as he saw just how high he really was, but as bullets churned the concrete below him he jumped… as the helipad exploded sending a fireball into the sky.

Wesley and Angel’s chopper strained to avoid the rising fireball but it was too late and it was caught in the fire. It tipped and crashed down the side of the building, a rotor hitting the roof.
Dangling against the side of the building, Spike ducked and winced as debris rained down around him.

On the roof, the hose wheel was engulfed by flames. It jerked on its foundations and pivoted 180 degrees causing Spike to drop several more feet, and his heart rate soared. He swallowed, then kicked against the side of the building, but the shatterproof glass didn’t budge. Spike pulled the machine gun around from his back, kicked off from the building and fired at the glass as he sailed back.
The glass smashed as Spike crashed into the building, ploughing through furniture.

Finally he stopped and he rolled over onto his back, panting with relief. He rose to one knee and was suddenly yanked off his feet as the hose reel sailed past the window, and he was dragged towards the edge.

Spike clawed at the floor as he reached the sill he braced his legs against the sill, fighting the weight of the hose and reel. His foot slipped, but he was surprised to find that his wounded foot was the one keeping him indoors. He scrambled to get free of his improvised rig and he pulled the knot apart and fell backwards just before the hose nozzle crashed out into the great beyond!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike lay on his back, adrenaline pumping through his veins, one arm thrown across his face, catching his breath when he heard an elevator ding behind him. He pulled his exhausted body off of the floor and rushed to hide behind an overturned desk.

The elevator doors opened and he listened for any sort of clue as to who had come through it. He was just about to jump up and shoot, when he heard something that made his heart stop…

“Get your hands off me you fucking asshole”

Spike wasn’t sure if his mid was playing some fucked up trick on him or whether Buffy was really out there. He peered out from behind his cover spot and when he saw his beautiful Buffy was really there he used the furniture he had overturned in his dramatic entrance for cover to get closer.

“Adam told me to keep you alive unless you tried to escape, but if you keep shooting your mouth off like that I may shoot you and tell him that you tried to escape. It would give me…” But before he could finish a bullet exploded through the side of his head and he dropped to the floor, blood pooling out of his head.

Buffy turned around trying to locate the source of the shot. A darkened figure made its way towards her from the shadows and as it came into the dim light provided by the moon outside her heart stopped for a few beats. Her Spike was there, his barretta in his hand. She suddenly remembered what her legs were for and she ran towards him.

His golden goddess collided with him and leapt into his arms, and Spike wrapped his arms around her tightly, afraid that if he let her go she wouldn’t really be here. “Spike” she whimpered into his neck as the tears overwhelmed her, and he sunk to the ground and wept with joy at finding her again. “Oh god Buffy, I thought I’d never see you again.” Spike whispered and pulled back, and ran his hand through her hair, pushing it behind her ear. She pulled him towards her and her lips crashed onto his. They kissed with such passion and vigour, their lips tasting each other again, after what had seemed like an eternity of hell apart. They remained like that for several minutes until Spike pulled back from the kiss and placed delicate kisses all over her face. “I’m never leaving you again baby. Never.” He told her.
“Promise?” She whispered.
“Promise.” He replied.

Buffy suddenly took in his appearance. “Oh god” she gasped. He was stained with blood, oil, dirt and sweat. He was bruised and had blood seeping from several body wounds, gun inflicted and otherwise.

“What happened to you?” She whispered.

“I’ve been to hell, and let me tell you…it ain’t a place I’m planning on spending my next vacation.”

Buffy giggled through her tears. “God, I never thought I’d hear you laugh again.” Spike gasped as he kissed her again. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

Spike stood up and hobbled over to Eddie’s body and picked up his hand gun, handing it to Buffy. She checked the magazine before replacing it.

Spike looked at her, impressed.

“What? You think I didn’t pay attention in those shooting lessons you gave me?”

“Well, we didn’t get far.” He grinned.

“And whose fault is that? You’re the one who after just half an hour grabbed me and had his wicked way with me in the back of his car!” Buffy smirked.

“Yeah, well the way you held that gun was so hot.” He smiled at her. “When we get outta here remind me to give you some more lessons.” He winked and pulled her towards the stairwell.

Spike paused before the door, and held a finger to his lips. Buffy stayed behind and Spike opened the door and kept one hand on his gun and the other on Buffy’s arm, keeping her behind him. They ascended the stairs and came out onto the vault floor. Spike could hear Adam talking to one of the other terrorists in the Vault room. He pulled Buffy back into the stairwell.

“Listen baby. I need you to stay right here OK?”

“What! Don’t be stupid, you’re going out there alone!”

“I have to, and I’m not gonna out you in any danger again, now stay here, please…” Spike begged her, and placed his hands on the side of her face. “Please baby…” Spike whispered, leaning down to kiss her softly. “Please…” He whispered against her lips.

“Ok.” She moaned back.

“I love you.” He whispered. “I love you.“ She told him, and he was just about to leave when Buffy pulled him back for a deeper kiss. “Come back for me.” She half begged, half whispered. “I will.” He promised her.

Spike checked the weapon he took from Uli, and saw that he had only one bullet left.

“Shit…” he muttered from under his breath.

He checked his baretta and saw he had one bullet. Desperate he took the bullet from the rifle clip and added it to the Baretta clip. He slammed the pistol clip back, really worried. He stalked back to the stairwell and opened it to ask Buffy how many bullets she had left when he almost had a heart attack. She was nowhere to be seen.

He spun round and slipped into the room and heard Buffy whimper. “Look what in found cowering in the stairwell on my way up from the truck…” Theo smiled and threw Buffy at Adam. “..with this,” Theo threw the machine gun onto the table top.

Spike wanted to scream, he thought he had left Buffy safe, but instead she had been taken again. Mind racing, he looked all around the room...his eyes fell on a tape dispenser. He thought again and stepped towards it.

“Where were you off to with this?“ Adam leered. “I can’t believe you took on Eddie all by yourself. I’m guessing that cowboy bastard of a husband did the dirty work for you. Oh well, not to worry, I’m sure I can find uses for you later.” He grinned, running a hand over Buffy’s face and to her lips, where Buffy opened her mouth and bit him hard. Adam pulled back furious and slapped her hard, but not enough to knock her out again. “Let's move.”

“No, get off me!” Buffy cried.

Adam hung on to Buffy while the last of the money was piled into carts. Kristoff pushed the mail cart of moneybags out of the room as Theo went to the door to scope their escape, when suddenly he was cold cocked by a rifle butt.

Spike stepped into view in the doorway, backlit by sparks still tumbling down from the roof above. He held the machine gun ready.

“Adam!” Spike yelled.

Adam turned, not that surprised. Grinning, he yanked Buffy into view. No words needed to be said.

“Spike!”

“So that's what it was. A fucking robbery. So why nuke the building, Adam?”

With a shrug he replied “When you steal six hundred dollars, you can disappear...but when you steal six hundred million, they will find you...unless you play dead.” A tight smile fell across his features.
“Which happens to be your next role...drop your gun, please.”

Spike hesitated, but Adam pushed the gun against Buffy again, and she whimpered in pain. Kristoff quickly raised his weapon.

“Nein, dies ein ist mein.” Adam yelled to him.

“This time John Wayne does not walk off into the sunset with Grace Kelly. “Adam grinned at Spike.

“That was Gary Cooper, shithead…” Spike muttered.

“No more jokes, drop it or she gets it between the eyes!” Adam said, suddenly serious.

“Whoa, Adam, now you're the cowboy?” Spike said, his arms now crossed behind his head as if being arrested.

“'Yippe-ki-yea, mother fucker'? Now you are fucked.”

Adam took aim at Spike, who cried “Buffy, now...!”

Instantly, Buffy sidestepped, jabbing her elbow into Adam’s face! Spike grabbed his Baretta from its hiding place taped to the back of his neck and shot Adam high in the chest. The bullet went through him and shattered the window behind him. Without pausing to so much as blink, Spike spun around and shot Kristoff between the eyes.


Adam dropped his weapon, and staggered back, looking down at his own blood in shock.

“I think its fair to say schools out for bloody summer!” Spike smiled as Adam stood there in disbelief, slowly falling against the window sill. He started to topple, and then grit his teeth, and from some inward place found a last reserve of strength and grabbed Buffy’s wrist. She was yanked off her feet and pulled with Adam as he toppled out of the window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Dum, Dum, duuuuuuu. Well, if you’ve seen the movie you know what happens… or do you…could I have been evil and added a twist?????
You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out, or if I’m feeling nice or get some reviews, I may update tonight : )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike saw this and his entire body lurched forwards and he leapt forwards, catching her inside arm near the elbow at the last second.He hung halfway out of the window, jagged glass raking his face, straining to hold onto Buffy as Adam dragged her out!

Spike braced himself against the window frame and strained to pull Buffy closer. With a moan, she caught the windowsill with her inside hand, as Spike stretched with his other hand, and inched towards Buffy’s wristband.Adam had a death grip on the watchband and he strained to bring up the gun he was still holding with his other hand. Buffy saw this and screamed. Spike looked up and his eyes locked with Adam’s as he started to pull the trigger, Spike released the latch on the watchband, and it snapped.

Adam’s face was a mix of horror and revulsion as he felt himself fall, and he screamed until the ground met him and he met a his death.Spike pulled Buffy back in the room with all his strength and held her.“It's okay, love. It's okay.”Buffy kissed him hard as Spike stood, with her wrapped around him.“Let’s go home.” He smiled at her, and set her down and they walked out of the room, stepping over Theo.

As he was about to leave he thought he heard a squeaky pop, and he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder, followed by icy coldness seeping through his upper body. Spike fell to the floor and clutched his shoulder, blood seeping out from between his fingers. He lifted his hand looked at his shoulder and saw blood trickling from a hole about the size of a two pence piece.

Buffy, not knowing what the sound was looked to Spike for an explanation. When she felt Spike’s grip loosen and saw him fall, she sunk to the floor with him. When Spike lifted his hand she saw the gunshot wound.“God NO! Spike…” Buffy moaned and spun her head round to see Theo standing with a silencer gun aimed at Buffy.“Now its your turn.” He sneered and Buffy winced as he pulled the trigger… but nothing happened.

Looking up to see Theo pulling the trigger again but no shot being fired. Buffy leapt from her position on the floor and kicked the gun out of Theo’s hands, ready to put the training Spike had given her to good use. She followed with a round house kick to his gut, and was just about to follow with a punch when Theo faced her just in time to block a backhand. He swung her around into a wall, but she put her weight on his arm and leapt up, pinning her feet on the wall, turning round and pushing off, sending Theo backwards. Trying to recover, Theo raised a knee to stop Buffy's mid-level round kick, then grabbed her by the shoulders. They struggled with each other, both of them slamming into the closed door to the stairwell then rebounding across the hall falling into the stairwell where they took an unpleasant slide headfirst down the stairs. Theo landed first, Buffy second, using his body as a cushion for his impact. Theo’s head hit the concrete with a sickening crack, and blood started to pool around his head. Buffy pushed herself up slowly, and checked for a pulse, but found none. She collapsed on the corpse, then shot up like a bullet out of a gun, and ran up the stairs onto the vault floor.

“Spike…” she gasped as she ran and skidded to the floor and stopped at his overturned body. “Spike baby, come on…” She whimpered, tears falling from her eyes. “Please, its all over now…I need you…please god don’t take him away from me.”As if her prayers were answered, Spike’s eyes opened, and he gritted his teeth against the pain.“I promised I wasn’t going anywhere.” He managed to smile slightly. Buffy laughed, through her tears and helped him sit up. She ripped the bottom half of her shirt off and pressed it to his shoulder.“Where is he…”“Who they guy who shot you?” At his nod Buffy smiled at him. “I kicked his ass.”Spike looked at her and saw she had a bleeding lip and cut over her left eyebrow. “Your hurt…” Spike whispered.“Oh this, just a scratch, hey now we’ve got matching war wounds, old and new.” She smiled. “Do you think you can walk?” She asked.Spike placed his good arm on the floor and pushed himself up. Buffy put his good arm across her shoulders so he could lean on her for support.“Come on. Let’s really get out of here.” Spike smiled and they left the floor via the stairwell, stepping over Theo’s lifeless body, Spike smiling at Buffy’s handiwork. 

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Outside a crowd watched as the front doors of the building opened. Spike and Buffy held each other up and Spike in turn was held up by SWAT men. As reporters started shouting questions, Spike broke free of his entourage, and holding Buffy pushed into the crowd.“Xander? Xander, you here… ?The crowd ebbed and surged until suddenly, Xander was standing there. Spike knew it was him, even without any words being exchanged. They stared at each other, ten feet apart, and then grinning, extending their hands, Spike pulled him towards him and they embraced each other, Spike ignoring the pain in his shoulder, which had been bandaged simply by one of the SWAT men who found them descending the building.

“Xander. Mate, you were my rock. I couldn't have made it without you.”“Bullshit.” Xander smiled.“I'm serious. Hey, this is my wife... Buffy Summers.“Buffy McClane.” Buffy corrected, taking his hand and planting a kiss on his cheek.Hearing this Spike smiled and pulled her closer.“A pleasure. I guess Spike doesn't need me to give you that message anymore.” Xander grinned.“Message?” Buffy asked puzzled, as Spike began to make silent "ixney" gestures in Xander's direction.“You know, about him being such a jerk …and how he's really sor…ee...Uh, I'm sure he'll fill you in.”

Just then Giles barged forward.“I want you for debrief, McClane. You've got some things to answer for Parker’s murder… property damage … interfering with police business…”

A scream caused Spike to turn, and in the doorway he saw…Karl, clothing and body scorched. Easily as crusted in dirt and blood as Spike, he held his machine gun high.As the crowd panicked trying to escape, Karl locked eyes with Spike and levelled his gun. Spike threw Buffy to the ground and grabbed the dumbstruck Giles’ sidearm.

But he didn’t get off a shot … a lone gunshot stopped Karl, knocking him back through the doorway. Spike looked back to see Xander still sighting down the barrel of his .38. His hand was rock steady. On Spike’s look, Xander shrugged, “You were right. You couldn't have made it without me.”

They smiled, then suddenly squinted as Riley Finn pushed his way forwards, mike extended like a weapon. “Mr. McClane...Mrs. McClane...any comment on your incredible ordeal? What are your feelings now that it's all over?”Without a beat, Buffy punched him square in the mouth. He fell, dropping the mike with an electronic squeal. Spike chuckled, and held his wife closer, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Behind them, Riley sat on the ground, nursing his lip and turned to his cameraman.“Did you get that?” he asked eagerly.

Spike and Buffy continued on, and he saw Robin’s limo, the said driver standing by the door. Both of them got in and Robin shut the door, and crossed to the drivers door. “If this is their idea of Christmas I gotta be there for New Year's.”

Spike pulled Buffy close and they shared an intimate kiss as Robin shouted through the inner window,“I think we should get you to the hospital.” “Yeah, probably a good idea.” Spike grinned against Buffy’s lips. “Can I…” Spike asked, picking up the phone. “Of course man!”

Buffy took the phone from him, “I’ll phone…you rest.” She told him and pushed him so he was lying horizontal on the seat. She sat with his head resting on her lap and dialled her home.

“Hello?” Glory’s voice came down the line.

“Glory, its me.”

“Oh Mrs Buffy, thank god! I was so scared about you and Mr Spike.”

“We’re both fine Glory. Both of us, but we’re on our way to the hospital, could you bring the kids there?”

“Of course Mrs Buffy, we’ll leave right away.”

“Are the kids…”

“Asleep on the sofa. They were exhausted. Do you want me to get them for you now…”

“No Glory, just bring them to the hospital. See if you can carry them into the car so they can sleep a little while longer.”

“Yes Mrs Buffy. I am so glad you are both alive.”

“Me too Glory, me too.” She smiled as she placed the phone back on the receiver, and looked down at Spike, for whom exhaustion had overtook, and he was sleeping lightly.

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Thanks for your reviews guys, i got one more chapter left. This one's dedicated to Jcmb12454, jenny, dreamgirl4eva and jess. And sorry if the lay out is screwed up. I wrote this on a different programme, not knowing it was a trial programme, and the trial expired so i had to copy nd paste it into a much crappier version, which really vuggered up the lay out. sorry guys.