Angelus was holding court in the largest room in the mansion—a room that she rather thought would be a ballroom were it not covered in random articles of clothing and red splotches that she knew were blood. Luckily, the room lacked minions. Angelus must have anticipated the two Slayers and sent the lesser vampires away. It was Angelus’s style, she knew; he would want to toy with them himself, with no lackeys interrupting his fun.
Please let us be in time.
Spike dropped behind her, and she knew without even having to reach out to him that he planned to go back, wend his way through the halls, and sneak in behind Angelus to get Jenny and Giles.
For there they both were, amidst copious blood spatters. They were both tied to chairs and were looking so haggard that Buffy’s heart clenched just seeing them. But they were alive—that much luck had been with them.
Angelus himself was sitting in a chair that could only be called a throne. Buffy felt almost physically sick when she saw that he dandled Dru on his knee. Like she’s a doll or something…Even worse was the knowledge that it had been Dru who made him lose his soul.
Not that she had proof, or anything—but who else would it be?
Angelus spotted her as soon as she stepped into the light. His face, so smooth and deceptive, split into a wide grin.
“I was wondering when you’d come, lover.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed. Lover? Okay, not only was he a gross serial killer, but he was crazy. “Kissing you isn’t the same as sleeping with you,” she pointed out coldly. “And as a general rule, lovers don’t kidnap each other’s Watchers.”
“You never kidnapped my Watcher,” Angelus said in false innocence.
Dru clapped her hands and cried out in seeming pain.
“Daddy! The tin soldiers have come to take Mummy’s toys away!”
“So I noticed,” Angelus said, keeping his eyes on Buffy. “Now, is that polite, Buff? Stealing my girl’s fun.”
“You left a finger on my porch,” she snapped, allowing her anger to show. “I’m sending you to hell.”
She threw a stake at him. It whirled through the air, its speed making it sound out a thin, clear note in the silence. Less than a second after she threw it, Angelus reached out and caught it about two feet from his chest.
“That was rude,” he said chidingly. “I was gonna tie you up and torture you, but I might have to kill you and just settle for making your boyfriend bleed. Damn, I hate it when things don’t work out the way I want them to…”
“You really like the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Buffy said, not really expecting an answer.
Angelus’ face darkened; Drusilla piped up and said, “Enough talk. Daddy, the stars told me to melt the tin soldiers down.”
“And melt them we will,” Angelus said cheerfully. He hopped off his throne; Buffy’s eyes darted to behind him. She had to fight from sighing in relief when she saw Spike standing in the shadows.
No matter what happened now, he would get them out.
“No offense, but generally we humans don’t take kindly to melting,” Buffy said cheerfully. “I mean, our skin burns, and then there’s pain, and it’s all a world of bad from there.”
“Pain? Well, I don’t want to cause you that!” Angelus grinned as his face shifted and the demon came to the fore. “Oh, wait—I do.”
“Not loving the corny villain jokes,” Buffy said impassively, keeping determined eyes on Angelus’ face even as Spike crept up to Giles’s chair and began to untie him.
“But they’re so much fun to make,” Angelus said plaintively. “You’re not having fun?”
Buffy sneered at him. “Come on, Angel. I know you’re not that bright, but even you ought to be able to figure this one out.”
“Hmm.” His body went almost unnaturally still, and Buffy stiffened. What was he planning?
Buffy, watch out!
The warning came less than a second too late. Angelus whipped out a gun and shot straight at her heart—Buffy darted to the side and felt pain tear into her shoulder, the tissue ripping apart in an explosion of pain as she fell to the floor. “Shit,” she hissed.
Buffy! Buffy, pet, just hold still and I’ll--
NO. She gritted her teeth against the pain. Not now, Spike! Not ever, actually, if you keep it up. We’re gonna get through this. But you have to get them out. I told you I’d create a diversion, didn’t I?
And getting shot was part of your plan? Behind Angelus, Spike glared at her. You’re bloody insane, did you know?
Duh. She grimaced at him, and grimaced again when Angelus laughed, thinking she was afraid. Now get them the hell out of here, would you? This whole stalling thing isn’t exactly working out!
Right. He finished pulling the ropes off of Giles and started on Jenny’s. Bastard, tying ‘em ‘round their vitals—I can’t cut ‘em off.
Well, hurry up with the untying. Pain is definitely a factor here.
“Are you drifting off on me?” Angelus asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Hunh? Uh, no. No drifting off here.” She smiled brilliantly at him, gritting her teeth. She didn’t think a single bullet wound would kill a Slayer, but she honestly didn’t want to find out.
“That’s good,” Angelus said, and he viciously backhanded her.
She flew across the room, slamming against the stone wall and falling to the floor.
Okay. Ow.
Pain was spreading all over her, radiating out in all directions and she knew she should get up and fight but she just hurt so much and all over that when her legs screamed at her to move she lay inert on the floor and waited for Angelus to strike again. She knew he would, just like she knew that Jenny would be so disappointed in her, failing when she didn’t even really have to win, just stall him and run away.
This, then, was what failure felt like. Cold. Cold and alone and…ending.
“Buffy, what the fuck are you doing?”
She cracked an eyelid open. Huh. That was definitely not Angelus speaking to her…
“Spike?” She’d meant to sound strong and Slayer-ey, but it came out as a whisper. Damn. And there was so much blood all around her…
“Buffy, get up.” She’d never really heard him sound like before. He sounded more panicked and more desperate than he had since she’d met him. And okay, that had only been a few days ago, but she still almost smiled to hear the concern in his voice.
The almost-smile turned into a grimace. “Spike, get out of here,” she whispered, every word bringing shooting pain to her chest. “Angelus, he’s going to—“
“Dru’s holdin’ him,” Spike said grimly. “She’s babblin’ about her dolls.”
“That’s nice, Mom,” Buffy said faintly. “What’s for dinner?”
Spike stared at his fellow Slayer for a moment, appalled, before doing the only logical thing in that situation: he hoisted her over his shoulder. Buffy was just lucid enough to think oh no, not again before he simply carried her straight out of the mansion.
Jenny and Giles were waiting for them outside; thankfully, they could both still stand.
“She’s hurt,” was Spike’s curt explanation for carrying Buffy like a trophy earned in wartime. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“Is she going to be okay?” Jenny asked, rushing towards the girl. “Buffy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been stupid enough to get kidnapped—“
“She can’t really hear you,” Spike informed the woman, his voice harsh with anger. “She’s delusional.”
“Hey!” The girl in question pinched him—he barely refrained from yelping. “No, I’m not!”
“Well, you’re sick,” he told her bluntly, “An’ your not gettin’ out ‘f that.”
“Yes, I am,” she said, wrinkling that cute little nose at him, “Because I’m not sick, I got shot, dummy. Now take me home.”
Jenny screamed. “She got shot?”
“Later,” he snapped in what he hoped was a compelling voice. “Right now, we’ve got one pretty pissed off master vampire who may or may not decide to come out and make us his nighttime snack, so we need to get the hell out of hear, got me?”
Jenny hesitated, then nodded. Good; the whole Slayer bit was still comin’ through. The Watchers, for all that they were older and maybe wiser than he was, were acknowledging that he knew better than they did.
“Let’s move, then.”
He rocked her in his arms, gently, pressing his hand against her wound as tightly as he could to stop the bleeding. He could feel the wound trying to knit itself together, and he winced when he realized that her Slayer powers were healing what shouldn’t be healed till they got the bullet out.
“Hold on, luv,” he whispered. Her eyelids flickered, but her eyes stayed closed.
“This is gonna hurt plenty more b’fore we’re through.”
~*~
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Eurgh. *drags weary body back into fandom* Midterms and a decision to be homeschooled...that cardboard box by the highway is starting to look really inviting.