Gunn’s head whipped to Riley upon hearing a shot ring out. “You hear that?”
Riley’s eyes widened. “Do you think—?”
“Let’s check it out!” Gunn exclaimed, whipping his door open and bounding out with a mighty slam of the car door. Immediately, he reached for his gun and cocked it. Riley, meanwhile, called in for backup and bounded out of the car, cocking his own gun, his face a mask of worry.
“You all right?” Gunn asked him.
“Just worried. Don’t want anything to happen to them.”
“Let’s move,” Gunn said, his voice deep with authority, his body on autopilot. He started for the house, straining his ears for any sounds of yelling or shouts or anything that could tip them off to what could be happening inside. Despite how many times he’d had to do this, his stomach still tied in knots.
“Go to the back, I’ll go through the garage,” Riley told Gunn. “He had to have gone through the back somehow, we haven’t seen anything out here all night.”
“Bet that fucker knew we’ve been watching.”
“Doesn’t really surprise me. Does it surprise you?”
“Nothing surprises me much anymore, man.”
“Hopefully if we come at different ends, we can catch him off guard.”
“Element of surprise,” Gunn mused.
“Let’s hope,” Riley said gravely. “It’s time we got this fucker.”
Buffy slid down the stairs on her bottom, her body shivering as if she were in thirty below weather. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, could barely move. Her legs when she tried to stand gave way. All she could do was slide down the stairs on her bottom like a child, sobbing the whole way in the dark. Instinctively, she knew where to go and she was sure that if she had to, she could see quite clearly in the darkness.
If only she could hear. If only she could be blessed for a few moments of complete clarity and hear all that was happening, just so she could somehow know what was happening to Spike. So she could infer that he was safe and alive…his voice, what she wouldn’t give to hear his voice.
The tears were never ending as she made her way to the car, standing finally on wobbly legs. Grabbing onto the wall to steady herself, Buffy went to the car, Spike’s car, and climbed in the back, huddling down on the floor and waiting.
It was all she could do. Shutting her eyes, she started to pray for his safety to whatever power would listen.
“Well, well, well,” Spike drawled, gripping his gun. “We finally get to meet.”
The man said nothing.
“What’s that then? Cat got your tongue? If you’re gonna take a cheap shot at someone the least you could do is talk to him.”
Still, silence. It was eerie. Silent ones like that were often the sneakiest and most efficient in their ‘work’. It was distressing, but Spike kept himself keenly aware of every breath, every movement, every everything. It was the only thing that was going to save he and Buffy.
They stood face to face, neither moving, just staring at each other in the dim light. The masked man lifted his gun and Spike, with catlike reflexes, kicked out and the man stumbled, but did not relinquish hold on his gun. He did however, let out a low growl and when he righted himself, Spike punched him dead in the face. The masked man was like a Weeble, rocking back and then standing straight. Spike lunged, grabbing hold of his wrist, directing the gun away from him and they fell to the floor together.
The masked man was stronger, but Spike was stronger and he used all his strength to slam the masked man’s hand repeatedly on the floor, trying to disengage the gun.
“You mother fucker!” Spike shouted and with a burst of power, the masked man flung Spike off him. Spike went back, his head hitting the floor and he felt woozy for half a second. Bringing his gun up as the masked man climbed to his feet and started to raise his gun, Spike shot him.
The masked man wobbled, his eyes wide through the slits of the mask. He aimed and Spike rolled, the shot just grazing his shoulder. Another shot rang out and Spike’s head whipped up.
Gunn.
This time, the masked man fell forward, falling in a heap on the floor.
Spike jumped up, wincing at the graze in his shoulder. He aimed his gun at the masked man.
“They always come back for one final scare,” Gunn said, his gun aimed as well.
Nudging him with his foot, the masked man did not move. Spike looked up at Gunn. “I don’t think he will be,” Spike said, watching the blood gush out onto the hardwood floor and head for the cream flowered Oriental. Buffy was going to have a fit about that.
“You all right, man?” Gunn asked, nodding towards his shoulder.
Spike nodded and flipped the masked man over. “It’s time we found out who he is,” and he proceeded to unfurl the ski mask.
Meanwhile….
Buffy was staring up at the window of Spike’s car, hoping that at any minute she’d see him. She kept chanting, “Please, please, please…” and then a figure moved past the window…no mask… but not Spike.
She sprang up from her spot to see whom it was, peering out of the backseat window. Whoever it was stopped and turned to her, causing her to rear back until she realized that it was Riley.
She undid the door, pushing it open and flung her arms around him. Relief flooding her, there was help; everything was going to be all right. It had to be all right now. She pulled back, clutching at Riley’s shirt in desperation.” Spike-- we have to get to him, Riley, he’s been hurt—“
“Sshh…listen, it’s all right. First, we need to get you to safety, Buffy.”
”No, Riley, Spike, he’s hurt. The killer is up there—I think—he shot at him and-”
“And you’re not going to do Spike any good by getting in the way. Gunn is up there and backup is on the way. Let’s get you to safety.”
“Riley—“
“Buffy, please. I need to get up there, but you have to be safe first. Come with me now, please.”
Buffy was torn, she didn’t want to go, but she also didn’t want to possibly put Spike in any more danger than he was already in.
Taking Riley’s hand, she followed him out of the garage and he started into a run, going straight next door with her desperately trying to catch up as she kept turning back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Spike.