“What is it we have to discuss?” Buffy asked, her voice even and confident, despite the butterflies in her stomach, the lack of breath in her lungs, and the tension in her shoulders. Oh, this was not good.
“Life, love, loyalty,” Angel joked, then in a blink his entire face darkened. “Oh, and a little matter of some missing files.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he menaced. “I tried to warn you, in fact, I think I’ve been entirely too nice to you so far. I’m a sucker for a cute blonde, everyone’s got a flaw. I’m going to ask you one more time. Where. Are. The. Disks?”
Buffy stared him in the eye, not even flinching at the pure malice she saw there. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His fist came out of nowhere and slammed into her temple, knocking her sideways into Caleb, who grabbed her before she could fall to the ground. Gunn moved to interfere, but before he could make it three feet, he was stopped by a gun to his temple, held by one of the unfamiliar men.
“Thank you, Parker,” Angel said. “Gunn, come on. You’re really coming to the rescue of your bitch? The slut who’s fucking Spike?”
A look of shock flittered across Fred’s face, but it was replaced by fear again when next to her, Graham attempted to draw his weapon and was then knocked down by a few brutal punches from Ben, who then seized her arms tightly.
“Don’t touch her again,” Gunn growled, glaring murderously at Angel, then turning around and getting even angrier when he saw Fred.
“You don’t really have a lot of say in the situation, with a gun at your head and all,” Angel shrugged, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “I admire the devotion, though. And you’ve just simplified things for me. You’ve picked a side, then?” Gunn was silent. “Good to know.”
Just then Spike entered the room again, Forrest no where to be seen, stopping on a dime when he saw the tableau in front of him.
“What the fuck are you doing, Angelus,” he growled, bile rising in his throat as he saw Buffy being held tightly against Caleb’s body, fear and anger in her eyes. The expression on his face didn’t change when Angel reached behind his back, pulled out a gun, and pointed it directly at him.
“You didn’t think I’d find out?” Angelus asked. “You really thought I was that stupid?”
“Well, yeah,” Spike shrugged, then regretted his words instantly when Caleb tightened his hold on Buffy and she let out a quiet whimper.
“Spike…” Gunn said warningly. The two men connected briefly, and united in their ultimate goal. To protect Buffy.
“Let Buffy and Fred go,” Spike said calmly, moving forward and ignoring the gun pointed directly at his head.
“Let’s see, no,” Angel said dryly. He kept his weapon trained on Spike and walked backwards over to where Buffy was held captive. He grabbed her away from Caleb, snaking his arm around her throat and pressing his gun to her temple. Buffy gasped at the cold metal pressing against her head, and really thought she might faint from terror. Caleb pulled out his own weapon and moved to guard Spike.
“They have nothing to do with this.”
“We both know that isn’t true. Fred is your little worker bee. And Buffy? You brought her into this. You had her trying to hide your tracks. Tsk Tsk. Not smart, Spikey.”
“Well, how did you find out?” Spike asked, trying to stall, desperate for just a little more time to figure out how to get out of this, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest as he saw his girl in danger.
Angel laughed. “Poor Dru. She really wanted to keep her mouth shut, but one too many cocktails and she was spewing some very interesting things. She feels really bad about it, though, if that helps.” He abruptly threw Buffy on the ground, and Spike’s natural instinct to lunge for him earned him a brutal punch to the jaw from Caleb, who looked gleeful at the opportunity to do violence. Angel tucked his weapon back into his waistband, and stared down at the crumpled girl at his feet with a bored look on his face.
Buffy scrambled off the floor, rubbing the arm she’d landed painfully on, and glanced at Gunn, hoping he was on the same page she was. They still hadn’t been found out, it seemed. But that probably wouldn't matter. And they had to do something.
“I haven’t done anything,” Spike said softly, wiping a drip of blood away from his mouth.
“Yet. You haven’t done anything yet,” Angel grinned sadistically. “And you won’t. But just to make sure, I’m going to ask the lady here one important question.” He turned back to Buffy, reaching out to brush her hair out of her face, and laughed when she jerked back away from him.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
“Buffy, Buffy,” he sighed. “You really don’t get what’s going on here, do you? Stupid little girl. Look around. Let’s recap. Your boyfriend and your lover have guns at their heads, poor Graham is knocked out on the floor, and Fred could be snapped like a twig with one word from me. I really don’t think you’re in the position to be giving orders.”
“Let the girls go, I’ll tell you what you want to know,” Spike implored, then winced as Angel reached out and wrapped his hand tightly around Buffy’s throat.
“Yeah, no,” he sighed. “Because the second this one and little miss Southern Belle leave the building, I lose my collateral. And I really like having collateral.” His grip tightened around Buffy’s throat and she winced slightly. “Now, when I ask you something, I expect an honest answer, get me?”
Buffy was silent.
“Answer his questions, love,” Spike said dejectedly. She shifted her gaze to him, her heart breaking at the fear, anxiety, and defeat she found in his eyes.
“Yeah, love,” Angel mocked him. “Answer my question. I'm feeling deja vu as I say this, it's funny. Where are the disks?”
Buffy glared at him with the fire of a thousand suns in her gaze. “I don’t know,” she finally answered truthfully.
“Hmm. That’s too bad.” He removed his hand from her neck, only to slap her viciously on the cheek. “You really are a bitch, you know that?”
“She doesn’t fucking know, you little prick,” Spike spat out. “Be a man and come deal with me.”
“But this is just so much fun!” Angel squealed, affecting a disturbing teenage girl persona and bouncing on his toes.
As Graham began to stir on the ground, he casually pulled out his gun and shot the man in the head. Fred let out a choked sob, and Buffy averted her eyes from the mess of blood and brains on the floor, her lunch threatening to rise up in her throat.
Angel smiled, and lowered his gun back to his side. “What about Fred, then? What does she know?” He started to move over towards the other girl.
Buffy saw her opening. And despite all the dangers, she was going to take it. She glanced at Gunn, and he nodded imperceptibly, then she shifted her gaze to Spike, whose eyes widened as he understood what she was planning to do.
Quick as a cat, Buffy leapt at Angel and kicked him once directly in the knee, then again in the head, eliciting a pained roar. She grabbed his gun out of his hand and pistol whipped him, then trained the weapon on him in case he made another move. As she acted, Gunn caught Parker off guard and knocked him down with two vicious punches to the face, grabbed his gun and moved back so he could cover both that man and the one holding Fred. Their training allowed them to move lightning quick, without any telegraphing of their movements, but Buffy still couldn’t believe they pulled it off.
“Fred, RUN,” Gunn commanded, and he didn’t have to tell the girl twice, as she took off and disappeared behind one of the tall wooden crates.
Spike and Caleb were locked together, battling over the weapon. Spike fell back as the other man punched him squarely in the stomach, and suddenly a shot echoed in the room, echoing off the cement walls, followed immediately by another.
Caleb collapsed to the floor, the bullet from Gunn’s weapon hitting him directly in the chest. Red blossomed on Spike’s white shirt, and he stared down in shock at the wound in his lower abdomen.
“Spike!” Buffy yelled out, running towards him and catching him as he fell. She heard another shot. She hurried in the direction of the exit, half carrying him, and spared one glance over her shoulder to see Gunn backing up in her direction, his weapon trained on Parker and Angel, both prone on the floor, and Ben, who was screaming and clutching his bleeding thigh.
Buffy made it behind one of the boxes before Gunn caught up, and he helped support Spike as they lost themselves in the maze. Listening carefully for sounds of someone pursuing them, they made it down to the first floor, found the front door locked and barred, and hid themselves behind a leftover piece of machinery before collapsing under Spike’s weight and laying him down.
“Keep watch,” Buffy ordered, and Gunn stood at the ready. “How bad is it?” she turned back to Spike, tears welling up in her eyes as she took in his pale face, and the amount of blood soaking through his clothes. She took off her sweater and pressed it into his wound.
“It’s not…bad,” he forced out, staring at her in confusion. “You…”
“Gunn, do you have your phone?” Buffy begged. “They took mine, you need to call headquarters, get back up and an ambulance.”
“Head…quarters?” Spike gasped. “You…you’re…police?”
“I’m sorry,” Buffy whispered, unable to think of anything else she could possibly say. “I’m FBI.”
“You…lied. You’re not…” His crushed face broke her heart.
“I know.” She glanced at Gunn, and he wasn’t moving. “Gunn, PLEASE. Call an ambulance!”
Spike protested, “No…no…you can’t. Angel…he’ll know…you have to go.”
“What? I can’t leave you here!” Buffy started to sob.
“You have to,” he said as firmly as he could, half sitting up. “He’ll…he may already know…he’s going to come after you...if you call…and the police…you have…to leave.”
“I can’t, I can’t…”
“I’ll be fine…shhh, my girl,” he soothed, pulling her hand towards him and kissing it. “I’ll be…okay. But…you need to do something…for me.”
“Anything.”
“Safe… bathroom...painting. 22-19-7-3-14…disks.”
“Okay,” she nodded, understanding perfectly, and memorizing the code. She reached out her hand and softly stroked his face, trying to figure out what to say, trying to figure out how to let him know how sorry she was, how much she cared, trying to figure out how to get them out of this.
“Buffy, I hear them, we need to move,” Gunn hissed. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at him, and shivered as she heard the sounds of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.
“Your…name?” Spike coughed, reaching out and pulling her back to face him.
“What?”
“Your…real…name?” He repeated. “I want…to know.”
“It’s just Buffy,” she tried to force her tears down. “Buffy Summers.”
“Still my Buffy,” he smiled weakly. “Now go.” When she didn’t move, he said louder, “Gunn…get her out of here.”
The other man complied, quickly moving over and hauling Buffy up from her kneeling position. He half dragged her away, and Spike watched them as they disappeared out a window, before falling into darkness.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Such a great response to the last chapter! Thank you all for reading, and extra thanks to those who review. I love, love, love hearing what you guys think! And I would especially love hearing what you think about this chapter...I'm guessing the response is going to be pretty interesting.