man in motion
by SoulVamp
Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12
Jay carefully slid the glass through the bars of the cage, drawing back almost immediately as the creature seized upon it, drinking its contents greedily.
"Sorry it wasn't what you asked for, not exactly," Jay said apologetically.
The creature wiped his mouth. "I understand," he replied. "But soon. You've got to."
Jay nodded. "Darien," he sniffed. "She doesn't get it, but I'll bring her around."
"I don't trust her. She's... soft."
Jay noted something in the creature's expression that unnerved him. He wouldn't try to pull her through the bars, snap her neck... would he?
"Like I said, I'll bring her around," Jay assured him.
"You'd better," the creature replied with a sickening, blood-soaked grin. "I'm getting... antsy."
***
"When you finally fulfill your destiny and get off that blood diet, she'll come running right back to your happy human self!"
Angel smiled weakly at Lorne. "It's not that I want that. Not necessarily. I mean..."
He caught Wes's eye.
"She's the same," Wes said.
"I need to see her."
In the medical bay, Cordelia looked small and pale and peaceful. If it weren't for the thousands of dollars worth of machinery keeping her breathing and checking her vitals, Angel would be hard pressed not to think she was merely sleeping off a case of the flu.
He sat beside her, took her hand gently. "You better hang in there," he whispered. "You're all I've got now."
A sharp keening sound split the silence, and nurses ambushed the room. An orderly steered Angel into the hallway.
"What is it? What's --"
"Please, sir, we'll take care of it."
But they didn't. Angel felt a horrible icy chill run through him when a doctor at last emerged to tell him she was gone.
In the course of mere weeks, Angel lost his son, Buffy, and now Cordy. When he thought of the last words they'd exchanged when she was deeply in the thrall of her pregnancy... how he'd almost killed her...
No, he wouldn't remember her like that.
Instead, he'd remember the beautiful, funny, sweet girl she'd been before all that. His friend, his love, his...
Lilah's hand was on his shoulder as he sat staring blankly at the white hospital walls.
"I have something for you," she said.
"Not now."
"Just take it," she urged, handing him a plastic-bound report. "Read it. There's pictures and everything."
He looked up at her. "It's not a good time."
Lilah sighed. "Pardon me if I have little sympathy for your loss," she said, but her voice was gentler than her words. "After all, she killed me, didn't she?" She tapped the cover of the report. "I think you'll find this very interesting."
When she'd gone, Angel reluctantly turned to the first page, and his eyes narrowed.
One more thing taken from him.
For the first time since he'd let Whistler pull him out of the gutters, Angel felt helpless and lost. But maybe...
"This... I can do something about this," he said.
Wes shook his head. "Can't it wait 'til nightfall at least?"
"Why doesn't anyone understand?" Angel asked. "Did I suffer for a century like this to have him sweep in and --"
"Angel," Wes said sternly. "Think. Please, I beg you. We only found out about the prophecy a few years ago. Does the fact that we now know it wasn't meant for you really negate all the good you've done? Do you want to throw this away? There's no guarantee that even if you do kill him that you'll then --"
Angel grimaced and shut his eyes briefly. "I... don't... care," he said, his tone measured and threatening.
Wes took a step backward and held out his hands. "I'm not helping you in this. This is wrong, and you know that. Please!"
Angel stared hard at Wes, tried to think of something to make him see that this was his only option. After everything that had happened, he had to settle this score.
"I said it before. I'll do this with or without anyone's help. Makes it a little harder, but I'll do it. And I'll do it now."
From across the room, Gunn cleared his throat. "I'll help you, boss," he said. "Let's go."
***
Buffy finally let Willow explain everything to her... Spike human and very much alive... Fred helping him... and Angel trying to kill him... it was all surreal and strange, and she felt like pinching herself to see if she'd wake up.
"I - I can't believe Angel would do this," she murmured. "I mean, yeah, it's not like they don't have massive weirdness between them, but geez, I can't imagine..."
"Fred and Spike aren't positive on that part," Willow assured her. "But somebody's after Spike, and Angel's pissed off and acting weird. That much they know."
"We gotta get him out of there," Buffy said. "We... we gotta get him here!"
"You sure you're up for that?"
Buffy stared at her friend in shock. "How can you think I wouldn't want him with us?! After everything..."
Willow smiled softly. "I was right," she said. "You did love him, didn't you? I - I mean, you do. I thought maybe, but I wasn't sure."
Buffy gave a barely perceptible nod. "It'd been coming for a long time," she said quietly. "When he was gone... not everybody could tell, but I wasn't exactly together, not all the time."
"I could tell," Willow replied. "I figured you'd say something if you wanted to. I didn't wanna push."
"Will? Can I call him back?"
Willow nodded and handed her the phone. "Just hit the caller ID thingy for Fred's number and then the send button," she said.
Buffy looked at it, her fingers barely touching the surface of the keypad. "Could I be alone? Please? I'm sorry, I think I need to gear myself up for this."
"Of course." Willow hugged Buffy again and stood up to leave.
"Don't tell the others," Buffy called to her. "Not yet, not 'til I've had a chance to figure out what to do."
Willow grinned somewhat mischievously. "Tell them what?"
"Thanks, Will," Buffy said with an appreciative smile.
***
Gunn pulled the car up and Angel leaped inside, immediately huddling down.
"Nah, man, don't need to do that anymore," Gunn said, pulling his boss up by the collar of his coat. "Windows got that some shit on 'em they outfitted your office with. No Angel flambé in here."
Angel sat up straight, gazing with more than a little awe at the bright sunshine. "Huh. Never get used to this," he remarked. "So, you know the plan?"
"Find and kill," Gunn said simply. "Question is, where do we find?"
"Well, he's here somewhere," Angel replied. "Lilah said the police found Riley's car abandoned downtown."
"Now, why would he come here? Why hang out on your turf?"
A slight cloud seemed to lift from Angel, some of his anger melting away. He sighed. "He doesn't know what he's done," he said reluctantly. "Not exactly. Probably doesn't know where to find Buffy, so he just stopped the first place he came to."
"Too bad Riley couldn't at least get a tracer on him," Gunn said. "You know, after we do this guy, I'm thinkin' maybe we get Riley. Guy's so fucking hopeless."
Angel quirked an eyebrow up and peered at Gunn. There was a strange glint in the other man's eye that he didn't like. "Gunn," he said. "We're not usually in the business of doing things like this. This is... a special case."
Gunn shrugged. "First time for everything. I dunno. I kinda like the new direction things're taking."
Angel gripped the armrest tensely.
"Gotta stop back at home base, though," Gunn said as he swung the car into a tight right turn. "Need some firepower."
***
Fred handed Spike a mug of coffee and settled next to him on the sofa.
"Thanks," he said. "Really, for everything. Would've found myself in quite a pickle without you, pet."
Fred blushed and took a sip from her own mug. "I'll be sorry to see you go," she said. "Do you think you need anything? I don't have much money, but --"
Spike held up a hand to her. "No, I'll wait and see what Red or the Slayer have to say. Sure one of them'll come out or wire me a bit of somethin' for the trip. You've done plenty."
The lobby doors swung open, and Spike and Fred turned to see Gunn enter, a dark shape behind him with a coat flung over its head.
"Oh, brilliant," Spike muttered.
Angel pulled his coat off and stared with disbelief at him. A slow smile spread across his face.
"Maybe this won't be so hard after all," Angel said.
Spike stood up and squared his shoulders. "Don't be too sure, mate."
The creature growled in his sleep and sat bolt upright, crying out and shaking slightly. He looked around the warehouse, eyes glittering, piercing the shadows with their preternatural sight.
Good... empty, he thought. Don't want those two seeing me like this.
He stood up and looked toward the small grimy windows at the other side of the cavernous space. Weak grey light filtered through mud and dirt.
"Daylight," he muttered scornfully. "Hope you enjoy it, you bastard. Soon enough, no more daylight for you."
A door banged open with an echoing clatter, and the creature scrambled back to his cot, turning his face toward the wall.
"God, he sleeps a lot, doesn't he?" came Darien's voice. There was a rustling sound, as of bags being deposited on the card table in the center of the room.
"Well, it is daytime," Jay replied. "That's kinda his thing."
"You don't have to be patronizing."
Do shut up, he thought. I just had to be stuck with these idiots, didn't I?
Of course, they had summoned him, fed him, helped him over the initial shock and weakness, and even let him feast on the former occupants of this dank place. It wouldn't do to be ungrateful. Soon enough, he'd be strong enough to break free, and then...
Oh, my, yes, such beautiful bloodshed to be had.
***
"Hi, this is Fred Burkle. I can't take your call, so please leave a message. Thanks!"
Buffy tried to speak, but couldn't, and disconnected the call instead. It wouldn't seem real until she got to talk to him directly.
She curled up and hugged her pillow close, stroking its clean white surface as though it were his cheek.
Are you really out there? she wondered. Is this really happening?
She shut her eyes, and his face appeared before her.
"'Course it is," he said with a grin. "Didn't think you could get rid of me that easy, did you?"
She flew to him, planting kisses all over his face, clutching at his shoulders. "Never, never, never do that again!" she pleaded.
"Turnabout's fair play," he murmured against her neck. "You died on me once, left me to mourn. Figured you were owed a taste of your own medicine."
She pulled away slightly and saw a spark of mirth in his eyes, but if this was his game...
She hardened her features. "Jerk."
"Selfish little bitch." He cupped her cheek in his hand.
"Drama queen. You just had to play the martyr." She turned her face and kissed his palm.
He reached his arm around her waist and pulled her to him roughly. "You intend to make me sorry I saved your pretty ass?"
She whimpered as he ground himself against her slightly. "No," she whispered.
He kissed her neck. "So what do you say, then, you crazy, beautiful bint?"
"Thank you..."
He shook his head. "Not that. Though you're welcome."
"I love you..."
He beamed. "That's my girl."
God, let it be real, Buffy thought desperately. She reached for the phone and dialed Fred's number again. This time she didn't choke up when she left her message.
"This is Buffy... you talked to my friend Willow earlier. I need to talk to Spike as soon as possible, please. I - well, just tell him... tell him I've missed him."
***
When Spike awoke, he was in the dark. His arms, bound with handcuffs, hugged a metal post, and his head ached. He looked around, but couldn't quite see through the gloom, even squinting hard.
Don't tell me I need specs again...
Footsteps approached, and Spike raised his head just as Angel threw a glass of cold water in his face.
He sputtered. "What was that for? I was already conscious!"
"I could see that."
Spike craned his neck, trying feebly to dry his face on the sleeve of his shirt. "Lay it all out, peaches," he said. "Know we're not exactly on the best of terms anymore, but what've you got against me now? You've got a soul, I'm human. Way I figure it, we're both on the same side."
"That's the thing," Angel replied. "You're human. So, no, you're not on my side."
"Get to the bloody point. I don't have time to listen to you talk in your stupid brooding riddles. What was with the poncy hit man, and what do you have against me?"
Angel crouched down and met Spike at eye level. "Everything."
***
The opening six notes of the theme song from Doogie Howser, M.D. played in tinny, electronic beeps, and Willow rushed to her laptop. "That must be the file Giles was emailing me," she explained with a hint of a blush. "I - yeah, I really should change my notification sound, huh?"
Kennedy smiled and patted Willow's hand as she opened the file.
"Uh oh."
Xander cringed. "Nothing good ever follows an 'uh oh.' Is this a 'crap, the world's ending now' kind of 'uh oh,' or just a 'crap, Giles accidentally sent me a virus' kind of 'uh oh'?"
"Closer to the first one, but not... well, I don't think it'll be as bad as that."
Kennedy peered at the screen. "What's an Empath demon?"
"Well, the good news is it's not something that generally likes to try to end the world, but the bad news is, it's still not something fun," Willow replied. "Oh, but in more good news, it ate the Notack demon!"
"Uh, I'm thinking a demon that eats other demons is not totally in the good news column," Dawn said. "Unless that's all it eats. Like a vegetarian, only... well, no. It's nothing like a vegetarian." She wilted into a chair and sighed. "Okay, so I have a ways to go 'til I'm even remotely junior Watcher-esque."
"Then what was up with the coven and all its stuff about the Notack dude?" Faith asked. "What, have we been on a friggin' wild goose chase this whole time?"
"No," Willow answered. "The Empath cloaks itself in its victims, so that's why the coven thought it was the Notack at first."
"Whew, so no probes," Kennedy laughed.
"No probes, right, but its ability to transform itself into pretty much any demon it consumes makes it kinda hard to pin down."
"Oh, great, another shapeshifter!" Xander said.
"At least this one's corporeal," Willow said. "Plus, it doesn't shapeshift at will, it has to either eat or be infused with the life force of another demon through magic." She paused, reading more of the file. "The cult! That's how it destroyed the cult! It must've fed on their Notack guy, and then killed them!"
"You said they were probably vampire victims, though," Kennedy pointed out.
"Hmm. Well, then, I'm stumped. It must've assumed another form before killing them. Possibly something else the cult conjured."
"Can it take on vampire form?" Faith asked. "'Cause if it can, we just dust him, right?"
"Vampires are demons," Willow replied, "and if he's in the form of one, I don't see why not."
***
Spike threw his head back and laughed. "You sad, pathetic bastard. Can't ever catch a break, can you?"
Angel drew back a fist and punched Spike soundly in the stomach. "I've got you chained up here," he said. "I'd say my luck's changing."
Spike glared up at Angel. "Already done the torture-in-the-basement bit," he growled. "Don't plan on doin' it again. 'Specially not with you." He swung his legs up and kicked Angel across the room, breaking the chain fastening the handcuffs together. Without looking back at the crumpled form of his grandsire, he bounded up the stairs, shoving past Gunn, and ran outside.
It took Spike a moment to realize Fred was at his heels shouting his name. He spun around, sending a piercing spot of pain through his left side beneath his ribcage, and he fell to his knees on the sidewalk.
Buffy emerged from her room after an hour's fitful napping. The rest of the household out to scope out the warehouse again, Willow filled her in on the new information about the demon. Dark circles under her eyes, her hair disheveled, Willow didn't like the empty, faraway expression Buffy wore.
"Have you heard anything I've said?" Willow asked her.
"Yeah. More of the mighty morphin' power evil kinda thing," Buffy replied.
Willow sighed. "He didn't call back, did he?"
"Not yet."
"I'm sure he will, just give him time. He sounded just like his old self. Well... I mean, not his old old self, not with the 'Drusilla and I are just in from Europe and wanna chop your head off' kind of old self. But --"
"Like happy souled Spike?"
Willow nodded. "With a side of witty banter, even."
"What if something's wrong now, though? What if --"
"Stop," Willow urged. "You're just gonna make yourself crazy."
Buffy buried her face in her hands and slumped forward. "I just don't know what to do here, Will. I feel like calling Angel, getting his side of all this, going out there... doing something!"
Willow smiled weakly and patted Buffy's shoulder. "You know, in a totally weird and not at all funny sorta way, it's like you're home on a Friday night waiting for your boyfriend to call and ask you to the big dance."
Buffy's head snapped around, and she peered at Willow. "It is a Friday night. And it's not exactly like he's not calling because he's trying to play it cool or he's out with another girl. He's not calling because... because he's probably..."
"Getting you a corsage?"
"Will?"
"Yeah?"
Buffy gritted her teeth. "Amusing 1950s high school analogy? Slightly inappropriate right now."
"Just trying to keep you from gettin' wiggy with it," Willow said meekly.
"We're way past wiggy and into full-on panic mode. Complete with the pushing of big buttons and everything. Buffy is on orange alert." She paused and stood up. "No... not even orange. We're like above orange and creeping toward red." Buffy nodded decisively. "We're on... we're on whatever color is redder than orange but... not really red yet... like --"
"Tangerine?"
***
Fred rushed to Spike, and helped him to his feet. "Are you okay?"
"Bloody muscle cramp. God, it's things like this that make me miss bein' a vampire." He winced, and Fred slung his arm over her neck.
"Come on, we have to go. Charles isn't far behind."
He allowed himself to be half-dragged to her car, and once inside, Spike collapsed against the seat, his breath coming out in short, pathetic gasps.
"Bugger, s'pose I'll have to quit fags entirely now," he mumbled.
Fred looked at him oddly.
"Cigarettes," he explained with a short laugh that sent him coughing.
She patted him on the back and turned her eyes back to the road. "Where to?"
"That depends," Spike replied. "You want to suss out what's got your boss so goddamn vexed, or you want to just get the hell away?"
"I, uh... I don't know..."
Spike looked out the window at the scenery rolling rapidly by. "How 'bout if you do the former and I'll do the latter..." he said softly.
"I would," Fred began, "but what if my helping you makes them a little... annoyed with me?"
Spike gazed at her a moment, her eyes wide and scared. This wasn't how he'd imagined things going, but to leave her here...
"All right," he said finally. "Come with if you'd like. But I get the window seat. Where's your cell? Folks need to know we're comin'."
Fred tossed Spike her purse, and he rifled through it without luck. "Oh, this isn't good."
***
"You know, for a very small person, you're surprisingly heavy," Xander said, grimacing.
"Just another inch," Dawn urged.
Xander adjusted his grip on her ankles and tried to stand up taller. What does she eat, lead bricks?
"Oo! I can see in!"
"Keep it down!" Kennedy whispered.
"Whatcha got, Dawnie?" Faith asked.
"Oh, my God."
"Uh, you done up there? 'Cause I like my spine unbroken, thanks," Xander grunted.
"Yeah, let me down," Dawn replied.
Carefully, he reached up and pulled Dawn from the window ledge, depositing her on the ground. "So?"
Dawn had turned pale and wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. "It's gotta be a spell," she whispered. "It can't be what I think I --"
Faith took a step towards her. "What? What'd you see?"
"We gotta go in," she said. "The thing in the cage? It's... I - I could be wrong, but I think it's... Spike."
***
He watched the girl drop from the window, and heard anxious voices in the alley. Well, isn't that neat? he thought. Niblet's playing detective. Won't you lot be surprised when you bring the cavalry 'round to rescue me?
He was startled when Jay returned and threw a bag of blood between the bars.
"What, not even a cup this time?" he asked with a frown. "Is the honeymoon over already?"
"Got no time," Jay shot back. "The Slayers are back, poking around."
He tore into the bag with his fangs. "I know! Isn't it swell? Go on, be a pal, shoot one of 'em for me, eh? Preferably the blonde." He began draining the bag of its liquid.
"There's no blonde," Jay said. "Two brunettes, and a couple of others... a big guy and a teenage girl."
He threw the bag against the wall, leaving an angry red smear against the concrete. "No blonde?!" he roared, rushing to the edge of the cage. "Find her. She's the one I need."
Jay took a step backwards. "Look, I still got the tranq gun. If you don't calm down --"
"Find her. Only Slayer that matters, that one." He grinned, face twisted into bumps and ridges, sharp glinting teeth streaked with blood. "After all, that's my girl."
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