COPYRIGHT: October 2001
RATING: �PG-13 (for now)
DISCLAIMER: �I don't own any of the characters from BTVS or ANGEL. �They're owned by Joss Whedon (who needs to treat them nicer), MutantEnemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, David Greenwalt, the WB, UPN, Fox, etc.
������ "What's he doing here?" �This burst simultaneously from both Spike and Angel, each glaring at the other with unconcealed animosity. �She sighed again.
������ "Angel's here because I called him last night. �Spike's here because - " She paused. �"Why are you here, Spike? �For that matter, how did you get here? �It's still daylight out." �She did a double-take, glancing at the windows. �"Isn't it?" �To her relief, it was. �She hadn't been lost for hours in Angel's arms after all. �However, it wasn't particularly bright. �Sure enough -
������ "Sky's overcast, i'nnit? �As for why I'm here - " Spike dropped his insolent tone and manner. �"I was worried about you, Buffy. �It's not every day someone comes back from the dead, you know - well, not and still be human, anyway. �I wanted to make sure you were all right." �His eyes seemed even bluer than usual as they searched her face, and they held the same expression she'd seen there the night before, an intent, yearning look.
������ She believed him, though reluctantly. �Angel, on the other hand, snorted. �Buffy put her hand on his arm. �"Angel, there are things you don't know about Spike."
������ "If you mean the chip in his head, Giles told Wesley about it a long time ago," Angel said. �"That hasn't changed his nature, Buffy; it only makes it more difficult for him to act on it."
������ "Fat lot you know about it, Gel Boy!" Spike retorted. �"While you've been playing the hero in L.A. I've been helping the Slayer and her friends keep this town safe. �Not to mention keeping Dawn out of Glory's hands." �He preened a little as Angel stared at him.
������ "We couldn't have done it without Spike's help," Buffy told Angel softly. �He wanted to remonstrate with her, but she gave a small shake of her head, telling him without words that now wasn't the time, and he gave in. �Buffy looked at Spike. �"Was there something specific you wanted, Spike? ��Cause you interrupted kind of a special moment here, you know."
������ She expected one of the peroxide vampire's trademark smart-ass comebacks, but to her surprise a flash of some strong feeling swept over his face and he looked away. �"Yeah," he said quietly. �"I noticed. �Sorry." �And with that he simply turned on his heel and stalked out, his leather duster swaying with the breeze of his going.
������ Angel turned to Buffy, open-mouthed. �"Who was that? �Because I know it wasn't Spike! �Do you have another robot around here?"
������ "No," she sighed. �"It's Spike. �At least, it's the new and supposedly improved Spike. �He - he thinks he's - " She stopped, not only embarrassed to admit Spike's feelings about her but also feeling, oddly, that she would be betraying him if she did so. Nonsense, she scoffed to herself. Everyone knows about him being "in love" with me - why should it be a secret from Angel?
������ She started again. �"He's - attracted to me."
������ "Attracted to you!" �Angel stared at her. �"You mean he says he loves you? �Is that it?" �When she nodded, he shook his head. �"Buffy, that's not possible. �He may be obsessed with you but there's no way a vampire can truly love - " Then he stopped, and a strange look crossed his face.
������ "Angel?"
������ He shook his head a little, as if to clear it. �"Much as I hate to admit it," he said reluctantly, "it's possible that Spike's - feelings - for you might be . . . real."
������ Buffy wrinkled her nose. �"What makes you think that? �Not his relationship with Drusilla, I hope."
������ "Definitely not that, no." �Angel smiled a little, then grew serious again. �"Although it does prove that he's capable of harboring strong emotion for an extended time. �No, that wasn't it. �Did I ever tell you about James and Elizabeth, two vampires that Darla and I traveled with for a while in the eighteenth century?"
������ Buffy shook her head. �So Angel told her of the two vampires who were so devoted to one another that they'd stayed together for over two centuries. �He also told her about their deaths, how he'd killed Elizabeth, not realizing who she was (although that wouldn't have made any diffrence), and how James, out of grief, had traded his immortality for a finite time of invulnerability so he could kill Angel in retaliation. �Which he almost succeeded in doing before the spell ran out and he turned to dust.
������ "Before James died he told me that I don't know what love is - that I didn't really love you. �Because if I did, I wouldn't have been able to go on because your death would have killed everything in me." �Angel's eyes were shadowed, his voice lowered to a whisper.
������ "Sounds to me like this James read way too many romantic novels," Buffy said softly. �Then she cupped his chin, forcing him to look at her. �"Angel, dying is easy. �Before I jumped from Glory's tower I told Dawn that the hardest thing in the world is to keep living when someone you love is taken from you. �But I told her she had to live, for me."
������ The expression on Angel's face made her pause. �"What?"
������ "Cordelia said kind of the same thing, that I wasn't betraying you by continuing my life without you - I was honoring your memory."
������ "She was right," Buffy replied, though she spared a moment to wonder that Queen C, of all people, would have said anything that compassionate and understanding. �"Angel, you're doing good things in L.A. �No way would I want my death to interfere with that."
������ Or my life, flickered through her mind, but she quickly pushed the thought away.
������ "It was so hard," Angel whispered, his eyes filling. �"Sometimes I thought I'd die too, just from missing you so much."
������ "But you didn't," said Buffy gently.
������ "No. �I didn't." �He uttered the words as if he were admitting to a mortal sin.
������ "Good." �She kissed him on the lips. �"Angel, if you died, part of me would die too. �But I wouldn't give up. �And I expect you to do the same."
������ They kissed again, with more fervor than before. �Buffy wound her arms around Angel's neck, and he held her close, so close that her breasts were mashed painfully against his chest. �She ran her fingers through his thick hair and rained kisses on his face and neck, wrenching a soft groan from him, then felt his lips on her neck, his tongue caressing the scar from his bite, and it was her turn to moan.
������ Then they drew apart, gazing into each other's eyes. �Buffy's heart was pounding and her breathing was erratic. �"This is the �handling it' part, isn't it?"
������ "Yes." �Angel's face had a touch of color in it, evidence that passion was running high, but his voice was relatively calm.
������ "Yeah." �Buffy cleared her throat. �"So . . . what were we talking about?"
������ Angel had to think, which wasn't easy with Buffy still perched on his lap, so temptingly close. �"Uh . . . Spike. �I think."
������ "Spike. �Right. �So, you think that because James and Elizabeth seemed really to be in love, Spike might be too? �With me?" �She made an involuntary grimace. �"Like I don't have enough problems! �Now I have to worry about hurting Spike's feelings."
������ Angel pursed his lips but didn't say anything. �He didn't have to; his face said it for him.
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������ "Buffy, is Angel there?" �It was Cordelia, sounding panicked.
������ "Hold on." �She handed the phone to Angel. �"Cordy, and she's way upset."
������ "What's wrong, Cordy?" he said into the receiver. �
������ Cordy? thought Buffy, as she watched his face go from concerned to steely-angered. �I don't remember him ever calling her "Cordy" before; it was always "Cordelia." �A strange kind of pang went through her. �It had already become obvious in just the few days he'd been there that Angel had changed, much more than she'd realized from their brief encounters over the last two years. �Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia had truly become Angel's family, just as Willow, Giles and Xander were, for her. �Just how close *are* he and Cordelia? she wondered, not for the first time, pouring the detergent into the dishwasher.
������ "Fred's there too?" Angel's face grew worried again. �"Oh, no. �Is she all right?"
������ And who the hell is Fred? �Buffy closed the dishwasher door and started the cycle, listening to Angel's side of the conversation.
������ �Did you tell them I�m out of town? Okay - Cordelia, stop swearing and listen. I�m going to call Caritas and talk to the leader - Rondel, is that his name? - and tell him I�ll be there as soon as I can. In the meantime I need you to go to this address.�
������ He recited it to her. �You need to get the sisters to lift the sanctorum spell on Caritas. Sisters, I said. Three of them. Tell them it�s for me. Yes, I know them. Yes, they should remember me. Sanctorum spell, yes. Have them wait until I call you and give the signal. We don�t want the demons running amok, killing everyone. And, Cordy? Stay away from Caritas; don�t go back there. It won�t do any good and it�ll just give me one more person to worry about. Please?� His voice softened.
�Thank you. I know. I�ll be careful; I promise.� He broke the connection and stood there, deep in thought.
������ "Trouble?" asked Buffy with a wry smile.
������ "Big time," Angel said grimly, dialing again. �"Gunn's old gang have apparently decided their mission is to rid L.A. of all demons, regardless of whether they're evil or not. �They've taken Wesley and Gunn hostage at a demon karaoke bar - Hello? �Rondel? �This is Angel. �I understand you're pointing guns at friends of mine."
������ He listened. �"I'm in Sunnydale. �It'll take me about two hours to get there - traffic permitting. �I'm leaving now. �And, Rondel" - Buffy shivered at the look on his face - "be sure you understand that if anything happens to Wesley, or Gunn, or Fred - or Lorne, for that matter - I'm holding you personally responsible."
������ Angel clicked off the phone and turned to Buffy. �"I'm sorry, but this is an emergency, Buffy. �I have to go - "
������ "Of course you do," she said briskly, starting for the stairs. �"But let's get some weapons first. �We don't have much time."
������ "Buffy, these aren't demons - " he began, then skidded to a stop. �"We?"
������ "I'm going with you, of course," Buffy said over her shoulder. �"Come on, Angel, we can talk in the car."
������ He followed her into her bedroom, stood watching as she went to her big trunk and started pulling out weapons. "Buffy - "
������ "You're wasting time," she informed him, holding out a crossbow. "Here. This works on people too, you know. Only as a last resort," she added at his incredulous look. " Dawn!" she called out, and a moment later her sister appeared in the doorway.
������ "Yeah?" Dawn's eyes widened. "What's going on? Did you guys find a nest or something?"
������ "I'm going to L.A. with Angel," Buffy told her. She closed the trunk and hoisted another crossbow over her shoulder. "Wesley and Cordelia have been taken hostage in a demon bar." She glanced over at the clock-radio. "Willow and Tara should be back in a few minutes with the ice cream; you'll be okay til then. I'll call you later on, after everything's taken care of."
������ "Buffy," Dawn said, obviously frightened. "Be careful."
������ Buffy gave her a quick hug and smoothed her hair. "Don't worry. I didn't come back from the dead just to be gunned down by some trigger-happy demon hunters! I'll be fine."
������ "I'll see to that," Angel promised Dawn, then turned to Buffy. "We have to go." He'd given up on trying to persuade her to stay in Sunnydale. Years of experience with Buffy had taught him that when she had the bit between her teeth, nothing could dissuade her from her planned course of action. He spotted a roll of duct tape on the desk and grabbed it.
������ "What's that for?" Dawn wanted to know.
������ "In case we have to tie anybody up," Buffy answered for him. "Good thinking, Angel." She followed him outside to his car. "You do have gas, right?" she asked as he started the engine. She pulled the shoulder harness across her body and fastened it.
������ Angel glanced at the gauge. The needle hovered just above Empty. "Uh, not much, no. I forgot I only put four gallons in." He slanted her a sheepish, sidelong look. "Thanks for reminding me."
������ "You're worried," she excused his memory lapse. She waited until they'd found a gas station, filled up the tank, and gotten back on the road before asking, "So tell me about this bar - Caritas? It sounds, well, weird. I mean - demons and karaoke? Kinda hard to wrap my mind around that whole concept."
������ "Sounds funny, I know, but they really love karaoke," Angel said, smiling a little. "Caritas is run by Lorne, a - being - from another dimension. He can read people's souls when they sing. Caritas is a sanctuary, a place where demons can come and have a few drinks, sing if they want to, and just relax, without fear. There's a spell on the place that prohibits demon violence."
������ "But not human violence," Buffy said after a second.
������ Angel set his jaw. "No. Lorne didn't figure on that ever happening, I guess. Not many humans even know about Caritas."
������ "Who's Fred?" Buffy blurted out.
������ Angel glanced over at her, the strobe-like flash of oncoming headlights highlighting the planes of his face. His surprise was obvious. "Fred? Why do you ask?"
������ "You just - seemed so worried about her," Buffy said lamely. "When you found out she was one of the hostages."
������ The worry lines deepened on Angel's face. "I am worried about her. Fred's very fragile still, emotionally. I told you about Pylea, remember? The alternate dimension Cordy got sucked into?"
������ "Yeah. They made Cordelia their queen or something."
������ "Yes. Well, Fred was there too. She'd gotten pulled in through a portal five years ago. In Pylea all humans are slaves. Fred was too, but she managed to escape her owner early on and became a fugitive, hiding in the caves. She helped us rescue Cordy and we brought her back with us when we returned. She - hasn't made the adjustment well. She's been hiding in her room most of the time since she got back, afraid to leave it. Cordy thought a night at Caritas would be fun - she promised Fred that she'd be safe there."
������ The pain in his voice matched the expression on his face. "Poor kid," he continued. "Buffy, she's so . . . shy and scared and, and lost. She trusted Cordy. And now - "
������ " - this happened," finished Buffy.
������ Angel nodded. "I'm afraid of what this might do to her."
������ "Angel, she may may be a little lost right now. But anyone who could survive five years of slavery and being a fugitive in an alternate dimension has got to be tough, deep down inside where it counts. She'll be okay," Buffy said, putting her hand on his knee. "But first let's get her out of there, safely. Then you can worry about damage control." The coolness of his skin came through his trousers, and his muscles were solid beneath her palm.
������ He nodded again, sighing. "Yeah, you're right. So let me give you an idea of the players here, and we can plan our strategy."
������ Buffy heard about Gunn and his old group of vampire hunters, about Gunn's sister Alannah and that he'd been forced to stake her after she'd been Turned. He told her about the sudden rise in demon deaths in the past few weeks, most of the victims proving to be harmless, peace-abiding types.
������ "Cordy said that Gunn's old gang has acquired a new member, some gung-ho type from Florida named Gio who's got them all pumped about killing demons. All demons. They stormed into Caritas about an hour ago, armed to the teeth, and shot some demons who tried to escape."
������ Buffy shook her head. "Sad. Don't they know that not all demons are bad?" Suddenly she stifled a yawn, almost hypnotized by the white lines flashing at her out of the darkness.
������ "I'm afraid it's that they just don't care." Angel glanced at her. "Why don't you take a nap? I'll wake you when we're close and we can discuss our strategy."
������ Another yawn almost split her jaw. "Sounds good," she agreed, her eyes closing even as she spoke. In a moment she was fast asleep. The next thing she was aware of was a voice.
������ "Cordy?" It was Angel, on his cell phone; the car was stopped. "I'm here. No, not yet. Give me about fifteen minutes to look around, then tell the ladies they can start. Yes. I will, don't worry. �Bye." He clicked off.
������ Buffy sat up and looked around. All she could see was what looked like warehouses; nothing even remotely resembled a nightclub. "Where is it?"
������ Angel opened his door and got out; she followed suit. He nodded to his left. "It's in the next street over, about halfway down the block. We'll be able to come out behind it, check out the area and see what sentries they've set, then make our plans."
������ "Right." Buffy went around to the back of the car. "Angel, the trunk? Need to get our weapons, don't we?"
������ Angel hesitated. "I'm not going to carry one, Buffy, and I'd rather you didn't either. If they see we're armed they're liable to shoot first and talk later."
������ Buffy considered this, absently chewing her lip as she thought. "That's a good point, but don't forget there are also demons in there. Once they realize the spell is lifted they're liable to want revenge, and I would certainly like to have something besides my Slayer strength to rely on in that case."
������ "Good point," conceded Angel. "How about we hide the weapons somewhere close by, like the alley, where we can get to them in a hurry if need be?"
������ Buffy agreed. They got the crossbows from the trunk, then side by side they ran across the dark street and made their stealthy way down the alley from one shadowed building to another, until they could see their goal, the back entrance to Caritas. In the doorway stood a sentry, the first one they'd seen. He was smoking a cigarette; the tip glowed bright red for an instant as he drew on it.
������ "I'll go check out the front," Angel whispered. "You stay here." Even as she nodded in agreement, he melted into the shadows, silent as a cat. It was only because she was watching that Buffy saw him run across the alley; the sentry didn't notice anything. In less than two minutes Angel was back. "There's only one out front," he said quietly. "Why don't you take care of this one here?"
������ "What're you going to do?" she whispered back.
������ "I'll go in the front door." He shrugged. "They're expecting me, after all. Then we'll just have to play it by ear. If there's any way to get people out of there unobserved, I'm counting on you to do it."
������ "Right." Buffy touched his face. "Be careful."
������ Angel kissed her. "You too. Hurry, the spell will be cutting off soon. Leave the crossbows here. You can come back for them after you get this guy out of the way. Here." He pulled the duct tape out of his pocket. "Use this."
������ Buffy nodded, set down her crossbow and took the tape from him. "Okay. Give me a couple of minutes." She took a deep breath, then ran quietly, putting several buildings between her and Angel before emerging into the alley, staggering as she came into view. The sentry turned to face her, which meant his back was to Angel.
������ "�My boyfriend's back,' " crooned Buffy, off-key, as she stumbled toward the armed man. " �And yer gonna be'n trouble, Hey la la something my boyfriend's . . . .' Hey there, big guy." She waved drunkenly at the sentry, seeing the shadow that was Angel slip across the alley behind him. He had moved several doors up from Caritas, so the front lookout wouldn't wonder why the back door guard hadn't spotted him.
������ "What are you doing here?" the sentry asked her. "This isn't a safe place to be, you know. You should go home."
������ Damn. She'd been hoping he'd try to take advantage of an obviously drunk, "helpless" woman, which would give her another reason to knock him out. "Lost m'way," she slurred her words, continuing to draw closer, staggering. "This i'n't Spring Street, where'm I?" She was in front of him now. Squinting, she peered at the lettering on the wall beside him.
������ "Ca - REE - tas," she said slowly, deliberately mispronouncing it. "Ooh, a Mexc'n place! I lo-o-ve Mexc'n food. Are they open?" She made a move toward the door, then swung around, hitting the guard square in the solar plexus with all her strength. With a sound like air escaping a balloon he folded up and fell to the ground. Quickly she tore off a strip of the duct tape and placed it over his mouth, gagging him, then bound his hands behind him before moving on to do the same with this legs. She bent over him, made sure he was still breathing, grabbed his jacket and dragged him inside the club.
������ Luckily there wasn't anyone else standing guard just inside the door. Buffy saw a door marked "Cleaning Supplies" and hauled the still unconscious man into the room, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of disinfectant that hung in the air, and left him there. She ran outside to retrieve the crossbows then cautiously walked down the corridor to where the action was. It wasn't hard to find; all she had to do was follow her ears.
������ She hadn't seen any other guards, and now she found out why. They were all inside the nightclub proper, focused on Angel, their guns and crossbows pointing at him - well, the ones that weren't aimed at Wesley, who had his arm protectively around a young woman she assumed must be Fred, or at the various demons in the room. None of the hostages were close enough for her to lead them out unnoticed. Buffy took a quick survey, counting ten armed men. That wasn't good. So, she needed to even the odds a bit.
������ "Prove to everyone here that this thing ain't no friend to you," she heard someone say. A young black man standing in front of Angel - Gunn? wondered Buffy - took the stake being proferred to him. A grey-faced demon alone at a table was rocking, moaning softly, "Oh God, we're going to die, we're going to die!"
������ Wesley stepped forward. "This is madness! Angel has a soul!"
������ "He's a vampire," said another man, this one armed with a crossbow. Buffy disliked him on sight, based on his arrogant sneer and general demeanor of being on a pleasure trip.
������ "With a soul!" Wesley persisted.
������ "Whatever." The man shrugged disdainfully. "You think that makes him the same as us?"
������ "No," retorted Wesley, with emphasis. "It makes him better. Better than you anyway. When Angel did his pleasure killing he had no soul. You can make no such claim."
������ The man who had handed the stake to Gunn said to him, "Well? What's it gonna be?" Gunn looked down at the stake in his hand, hesitating.
������ "Here, Charles, let me make it easy for you." Angel morphed into his game face. "Take a look. This is what I am. Deal with it or don't. But make a damn choice."
������ That's my cue, Buffy decided. Backing out of sight, she hid the crossbows behind some boxes in the hallway, then tried to catch the attention of the guy closest to her. "Psst!" When he looked over his shoulder, frowning, she called out, in as deep a tone as she could manage, but quietly, "Hey, man, I need help back here!"
������ The young man hesitated, glancing back at the "show," then turned and walked in her direction, holding his gun ready. "What's the prob, bro?" he called, softly. Buffy hid in another room until he passed, then crept out and hit him with both hands on the back of his head. He fell like a stone. Luckily his gun made a minimum of noise when it hit the ground. Buffy dragged him off to join his comrade, frantically using the duct tape to silence and secure him, then scurried back to her watching post.
������ "You don't know anything," Gunn was saying. The stake now lay on the ground at his feet, where he'd apparently dropped it. "You think I won't kill him because he's my friend? That ain't why." He took a step closer to Angel, who was back in human visage, his eyes fixed on the vampire. "Truth is, he can never be my friend, on account of what he is. Not his fault, really. Just the way it worked out."
������ "He ain't your friend!" the man next to Gunn cried out, his face twisting with disbelief.
������ Isn't that what he just said? Buffy thought drily.
������ "I am!" the man continued. "Are you gonna choose that over me?"
������ "Looks like it," Gunn said calmly. "It's about the mission, Rondell. He's got it. You don't anymore."
������ The sneering man now spoke again. "Oh, so you think just because you're letting that monster live you got the mission, huh? Well, far as I can see, a monster-lover ain't no better than a damn monster - and I kill monsters. That's what I do. So, anybody wants to walk outa here tonight, they gonna have to show me! Come on!" He strutted over to the small group of humans huddled together. "Step on up and do what your 'friend' here wouldn't - kill the vampire. Then you can leave this place. Otherwise, stay and burn with the rest of �em."
������ He held up the crossbow invitingly. "Who wants to live?"
������ Buffy acted. She sauntered out into the room. Instantly several weapons swung in her direction, including the crossbow. "Where'd you come from?" the arrogant man asked. For once his sneer wasn't in evidence.
