“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this,” Cordelia grumbled as she studied the layout of the correctional facility lying on the table before her.
Angel rolled his eyes as he traced the chosen path into the prison with a grease pencil. “’It’s three years later, Angel…things have changed, Angel,’” he mimicked under his breath and she glared at him.
“Comedian of the year you’re not. Faith’s a killer. That doesn’t change, that’s fact. And last time we saw her she was focused on killing us. Remember? Or did the memory loss make you forget that part, too?”
“She’s in danger, Cordelia,” he reminded her, sharing a look with an amused Gunn and Xander. “We started this business to help people in danger.”
Cordelia let out an unladylike snort. “So…the next time the phone rings and it’s…oh, one of the Manson’s…I give them the family rate, right?” she asked as she walked away.
“Wow…three years later and it’s like I’m right back there,” Xander joked.
“Hey, you dated her,” Gunn reminded him. “They breed crazy on that Hellmouth of yours?”
Xander grinned and they looked over at Cordy sauntering across the lobby. Their gazes dipped lower to her rear and held for a moment as she walked until Willow called out, “Xander…it’s time to go get Anya.”
Xander’s head snapped up, as did Gunn’s. “Huh? Yeah! Right! So gone.”
“I’ll go with you,” Gunn added quickly and snatched his coat off the back of a chair. In a moment they were both out the door.
Angel shook his head in disbelief and returned to the pseudo-blueprints before him. How Willow had pulled these up off the computer he didn’t even want to know.
“How’s it going?” Dawn asked, approaching him and leaning over the drawings, so close their arms touched. He wasn’t used to standing that close to another person, personal space was something he valued, and it was obvious to anyone…anyone but Dawn, who remained right as she was.
“Good, I guess,” he told her.
“That where we’re breaking in?” she asked, pointing to the “x” on the page.
He nodded, glancing at her sideways. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that she would not be any part of the inside operations team. Her sister was the Slayer. The Slayer was tough. She could deal with that part. “Yeah. It’s a skylight, of all things, over the office of the warden.”
“How are you going to get up there?”
“We’re going to climb. See here?” He pointed to an area on the map. “This building connects to all the others. Once we’re up there we can jump from rooftop to rooftop until we’re over the warden’s office.”
“Aren’t there alarms? And guards?” she wanted to know, smacking on some gum.
He reminded himself that she wasn’t thirteen anymore. “Yes…here, here…here…anywhere you see this symbol,” he explained. “But generally they’re not on the lookout for people trying to break in to a prison. We’ll use that to our advantage. And Willow has a spell that will cloak us pretty well.”
“Plus, you’ll be wearing black, which…you’ve pretty much got covered now,” she teased.
He grinned back at her, feeling much more comfortable. “Exactly.”
She glanced back at the drawings. “So, where will I be?”
Buffy walked up behind her and thumped down another series of printouts and maps. “See that chair over there?” she asked, pointing to a large bright red high-backed chair on the other side of the lobby. “How’s that work for ya?”
Dawn’s mouth instantly moved to a well-practiced pout. “Oh no. No way. I am not staying here while you guys go out and to the cloak and dagger thing! You let me come on patrol!”
“Forget it,” her sister told her, obviously used to this battle.
“I bet Angel’d let me come,” she tried.
Angel was completely surprised by this new tactic. “I…uh…no…” he stammered.
Buffy threw Dawn a look. “Look what you’re doing to him,” she chastised, slightly amused. “He wouldn’t let you go any more than I would.”
“She’s right, you know,” a voice came from behind them. Three heads swiveled to see who had spoken. Connor stood at the side door, a mere five feet away. Ambling down the stairs he approached them cautiously. “He wouldn’t. You’re a woman. And you’re little. You’d get hurt.”
“Connor,” Angel said slowly. “Hi. You came back.”
Connor glanced at his father. “I had some things to take care of, since you obviously weren’t going to.” His gaze fell on Dawn. “Patrolling, for one.”
Dawn turned to her sister, one hand on her hip. “See…he gets to patrol.”
“That’s nice,” Buffy agreed. “But we don’t know who he is.”
Angel groaned. Of course she didn’t. Why the hell would his present self tell Buffy anything about something as important as…oh, having a son?! He growled low to himself. Never could share, could you? Never could open up. And look where it’s gotten you now, he chided himself internally. When he got his memory back he was going to have to do a lot of explaining. Leaving details like this up to his…past…self--however that worked, dammit!--was just a pain in the ass.
“I’m Connor,” his son answered for him easily. He glanced at Angel. “I work with them, sometimes.”
Buffy nodded, noting the weird expression on Angel’s face. “Oh, great. Are you here to help us now?”
Connor considered, having seen the expression on Angel’s face as well. “That depends…want to tell me what’s going on? I’m guessing you don’t have your memories back yet.”
Angel eyed him for a moment, unsure what to do. “Um…no. We don’t. Things are…We’re still…um…”
Buffy gave Angel a look that clearly asked if he was losing his mind. “Angel’s remembering how to form a declarative sentence,” she apologized for the vampire. “No, they don’t. But we’re working on it.”
“Oh,” was Connor’s only reply, and he glanced again from Buffy to Dawn, to the rest of the people milling about the lobby. “You made some friends since I was last here.”
“Uh…yeah…” Angel stammered. “This is…Buffy, uh…this is my…this is Connor.”
His manner was strange and Buffy nodded at him cautiously. “Nice to meet you. This is my sister, Dawn.”
“Hi,” he said, equally as guarded.
“You work with them sometimes?” the Slayer asked.
Connor nodded. “Sometimes. When they need me. Not much, lately.” Angel was obviously not going to contribute to the conversation, so he continued. “How do you know my fa--”
“Sunnydale,” Angel cut him off suddenly. “I—I knew Buffy, and Dawn, from where I used to live. In Sunnydale.”
“They used to date,” Dawn told Connor helpfully, nodding to Buffy and Angel.
“Yes, thank you, Dawn,” Buffy blushed. “We did…but that’s…um…what do you do help them with?”
He looked at Buffy strangely. “I fight.”
Her eyes widened in surprised as she looked over the scruffy boy before her. “You fight?”
As her eyes had enlarged his narrowed at her tone. “That’s right.”
“Wow…sorry. I don’t know why I’m surprised,” she said, smiling easily, trying to get her foot out of her mouth. “I mean, I’ve been fighting since I was way younger than you, and Xander and--”
“Did my fa…um…did Angel train you, too, then? Like he’s been training Cordelia?” Connor wanted to know, unsure why he stopped himself from revealing his relationship with Angel.
Buffy looked surprised at the idea of Angel training Cordelia. “Uh…no. He didn’t. But we used to fight a lot…me and Angel. Combat, not arguments.”
Now Connor looked skeptical and Buffy raised an eyebrow. “What?” she asked.
“You fought Angel.”
“Yeah, I did,” she told him evenly.
Connor snorted.
“She used to win, too,” Dawn put in, defending her sister.
“Okay…really, we’ve got more import--” Angel tried, stepping between Dawn and Connor.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Connor interrupted, moving around his father and giving Buffy and Dawn a sneer.
“I think that’s exactly what it is,” Dawn countered. “She’d kick your ass, too!”
Connor nodded. “Okay.”
“She would!”
“I said ‘okay.’”
“You said it like ‘whatever-okay,’ not ‘I believe you-okay.’”
He glared at her. “Whatever.”
Dawn let out a strangled cry of frustration and turned to her sister, hands on hips. “Buffy, show him.”
Buffy guffawed. “Uh…no?”
“You have to. He doesn’t think you’re tough. He think you’re a girl.”
“I am a girl,” she reminded Dawn.
“You know what I mean. This is for…womankind. He thinks he can beat you.”
“Because I’m stronger,” Connor told her. “Not because you’re a woman.”
“She’s way stronger than you…I’d bet,” Dawn stammered. “Isn’t she?” she asked Angel.
Angel looked between Buffy, Connor and then back to Dawn. “I—uh…”
Connor sighed. “He doesn’t know, he doesn’t remember me. And I’m not fighting a girl. I might kill her.”
Buffy sighed as she faced her sister. “Dawn, we’re not going to—you so wouldn’t kill me,” she exclaimed, turning suddenly to Connor as his words sank in.
“Fine,” Connor conceded with a roll of his eyes. “But I’d really hurt you.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “You’d never touch me. And I’m not fighting you, so you’re just going to have to trust me on that.” Returning to the prison maps, feathers clearly ruffled, she glanced at Angel. “You plotted out where we’ll enter and exit?”
Angel opened his mouth to answer when Connor gave a short laugh, patting his father on the shoulder. “Let her win, didn’t you?” he murmured, but Buffy heard him and it got the desired reaction.
“Okay…fine. Obviously you’re not going to shut your mouth until we prove something here,” she snapped, walking to the center of the massive lobby and using Slayer strength to kick a sizeable couch clear to the other side of the room. Moving the couch opened up a large area in the middle of the floor and there she stood, hands on hips, waiting. Connor’s interest perked with her actions as his eyes followed the couch and Fred and Lorne’s mouths dropped open.
“Well?” she asked, tapping her foot on the ground impatiently.
“Hey…guys…really, no need for ring-action right now, right? We’re all friends…except I don’t like him, but…for the most part,” Lorne stammered, glancing from Buffy to Connor.
“He thinks Buffy’s a wimp!” Dawn cried.
Fred stomped over to Angel and Connor. “You can’t let him do this! He’s your--”
Angel’s eyes snapped hers angrily. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low, and he glanced up at Buffy. “Not yet,” he amended more gently.
Fred’s eyes followed his as they lit on the Slayer and she complied even if she didn’t understand. “Right…but still, Angel. You can’t let them do this. I know she’s the Slayer or whatever, but…he’s just like you. He’ll kill her.”
“I’ll hold back,” Connor promised them, and headed down the steps towards the girl waiting for him.
“Angel!” Fred hissed.
“He fights like me?” Angel wanted to know. “He can hold his own?”
“More than,” Fred nodded. “He’s almost beat you a few times. Aren’t you worried he’ll hurt her?”
Relief flooded him and he relaxed. “No…not particularly. We just won’t let them get to the weapons closet.” Fred’s eyes practically bugged out of their head and he chuckled. “I don’t think this will take long…they’re blowing off steam. Look, if it goes longer than a few minutes I’ll stop it, okay?” His interest in Connor’s fighting skills only dwarfed his warrior’s desire to watch Buffy in action again by a small amount.
She looked no more reassured than she had a moment earlier. “Okay…”
Dawn looked pleased as she crossed the room to Angel’s side and Willow and Cordelia approached them cautiously. “Um…What’s going on?” Willow asked nervously.
“This Connor kid thinks he can take Buffy,” Dawn informed them while she watched as the two opponents sized each other up.
“Woah, wait…they’re going to fight? Here? Now?” Cordelia squeaked.
“Apparently,” Angel said lightly.
On the floor Buffy watched as Connor shifted from foot to foot, waiting. She’d hold back, of course. She wasn’t about to hurt the kid, especially if he was a friend of Angel’s. But she hadn’t had a fight in almost two days, and after a while her body just itched for a little release. Faith had said it best so many years ago: if she didn’t get in a good kill every now and then she felt like she was going to pop. And it had been a while since she had had a good fight.
The duo took a few test swings at each other before Connor gave her a lip-curling smirk that reminded her way too much of Angel, and kicked out. Buffy dodged it easily, ducking down and coming back up again, kicking out with the opposite leg. He spun, dancing away from her powerful leg and twisted, letting his arm fly. She blocked the punch and returned with a few of her own, evenly matched. With a grunt she turned things up a notch and ducked his next swing, coming up behind him and kicking out, sending him flying forward as her foot landed squarely in the center of his back. He landed against a chair and looked back over his shoulder at her, glaring.
She sent him a smirk that had him looking to his father. Angel stood beside Dawn (who had her hands crossed over her chest a look on her face identical to her sister’s) watching the fight with interest. He caught Connor’s eye and shrugged, unsurprised by Buffy’s abilities.
With a snarl Connor pushed off the chair and rushed at Buffy. Mere feet from her he leapt in the air, kicking out with his left leg for momentum and knocking her back. She stumbled but kept her footing as he flew at her with yet another kick. Ducking this one she swept her legs out, clearing his feet from under him. Connor landed on his back with a thud, rolling to his side and springing to his feet.
“You don’t fight like a human,” he growled, his fists flying.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she replied, blocking his shots and spinning to deliver a more serious punch. Her fist socked him in the jaw and he returned the hit. The scene continued for several more minutes, as Connor grew more and more frustrated with the lack of progress he was making.
The door to the hotel opened a moment later and Xander, Anya and Gunn walked inside, loaded with suitcases. Xander stared at the scene in the middle of the room and noted the unconcerned expressions of the on-lookers. “Uh…”
“My thought exactly,” Gunn followed him.
“Is this the evil?” Anya wanted to know.
“That’s Connor, he works for Angel,” Dawn informed her with a whisper. “He thought Buffy couldn’t fight ‘cause she’s a girl.”
“Right, so she decided the middle of the lobby was the best place to throw down with a kid?” Gunn asked as Buffy delivered a beautiful spinning kick that sent Connor retreating to the other side of the room.
Gunn’s eyes widened as he watched Buffy run up the wall and flip herself over, knocking Connor back, even as the boy righted himself and took her out with an impressive kick of his own. Buffy came back at him with three quick punches to the kidney’s that had him on his knees.
“She’s holding back, isn’t she?” Angel murmured to Dawn.
She looked sheepish and gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “Maybe a little bit.”
“That’s holding back?” Gunn exclaimed, and leaned in to Dawn. “You gotta tell me what he said to piss her off…I don’t wanna be sayin’ the same thing by mistake.”
Dawn grinned at him as Buffy approached Connor, still on his knees. “I think we’re about done,” she told him.
He glared at her, panting. “We don’t have to be.”
“No…but I think I’ve proven my point, and personally, I don’t like destroying furniture. I’ve come to find out lately how expensive it is to replace.” She offered him a hand and after a moment he reluctantly took it. Helping him to his feet she smiled. “You’ll have to show me how you did that one spin though…you must have been seven feet off the ground.”
He glanced at her sideways. “It’s not hard,” he said gruffly, then softened. “If you’ll show me how you did that run up the wall thing. I can’t get that down.”
“Deal,” she grinned, and turned to find Anya, Xander and Gunn had returned. “Oh, good. You guys are back. Ready to go break into prison?”
*~*~*
“Okay, we do this fast and quiet,” Buffy said two hours later as the group stood huddled over the prison blueprints and cringed as she realized how ‘Initiative’ she sounded.
Willow pointed to the map. “She’s in room 228, at least according to the medical records I could access. She should be in one of these rooms, in this hall,” she told the group, pointing to the map. “There are doors at either end, then here and here as well, leading down to other parts of the prison. It’s pretty cut off from the rest of the building.”
“Which means less people,” Angel added.
Buffy nodded. “But probably just as heavily guarded.”
“Where am I?” Cordelia wanted to know.
“You’re here,” Buffy told her.
Cordelia leaned in and scanned the map. “That’s the parking lot.”
Buffy gave her a look. “I know.”
“Why do I have to be in the parking—wait. That’s fine,” Cordelia realized. “I’ll guard the car, no problem.”
“You and Dawn are there to be our eyes on the outside,” Buffy reminded her, giving her sister a look that said ‘don’t question this.’ “If anyone else sees us or comes up to the prison, you guys have to be watching and let us know. Anya, can you teleport again?”
Anya nodded reluctantly. “When D’Hoffryn finds out I’m helping you again he’ll ground me for life. Literally. Just who are you expecting to be following you inside that jail?” the demon wanted to know.
Buffy and Angel shared a nervous glance. “If Faith’s in danger, it could be anyone…but I’m thinking Watcher’s Council black ops guys. Or worse. Maybe be demons, like the ones I’m seeing in my dream, and they mean business.”
“What about us?” Xander wanted to know.
“Here, here, and here,” she pointed. “That’s you, Xander, Fred, Gunn, and Willow. You’re there in case we do run into the guys who are going after Faith.” The trio nodded and she continued. “Willow will perform the spell in the parking lot before we get on the property.”
“It’s a basic cloaking spell,” the witch explained. “It will only disguise you to the naked eye, though. If they have heat sensors you’ll show up all red and glowy.”
“Which is where I come in,” Angel added. “No body heat, not a problem.”
“The van will be parked here,” Buffy pointed. “It used to be the caretaker’s house years ago, but it burned to the ground around 1950, leaving only foundation. It’s grown over and will take a while just to drive up to. It should hide you guys well enough.” She shifted to a different section of map. “We’ll go in here. The less people that go in, the less people that get in the middle of something if anything should go wrong. The medical wing is here. The five of us will go in, get Faith, and get back out with as little mess as possible. At night the doors to the patient rooms are locked, with computerized steel locks. Faith will disable those. There are two nurses on duty, and a doctor somewhere. Dr…Phillips,” she said, consulting the papers Willow had printed out. "He could be anywhere, I guess, on rounds or in an office, we don’t have time to find out what the schedule is.”
“You planned how to break into a prison in less than seven hours,” Fred pointed out. “There are certain allowances you make.”
Connor stood off the side, watching the group with interest. Angel worked with this girl, these people, like they were part of the team. Buffy was, so far, the only person he’d ever seen Angel stop and listen to with respect and little impatience. That was annoying…but it was also interesting. In the year he’d been around his father he’d never heard mention of this Sunnydale place, other than that Cordelia had gone to school there, and he was pretty sure he’d remember his father having a girlfriend.
“What about me?” he asked finally, and the entire group turned to look at him, having all but forgotten he was there.
“You want to come?” Buffy asked.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, noncommittal. “Who’s the girl?”
Angel took a step toward his son. “Her name is Faith,” he explained softly. “She’s in danger, she’s a friend of ours. That’s why Buffy’s here. Someone’s going to try and kill her.”
“People die in prison every day,” Connor pointed out.
“But Faith doesn’t need to. She’s…she’s like Buffy,” Angel told him. “Strong, a fighter.”
“A Slayer,” Buffy told him, coming to stand at his side. “We’re Slayers, Connor. I don’t know if you know what that is…but we’re here to fight against demons and vampires. And Faith, even with all the problems we’ve had, doesn’t deserve to die like that.” Her eyes held his evenly, speaking warrior to warrior. “So we’re going to help her.”
Their eyes locked for several moments before Connor stood. “I’m not waiting in the car,” he informed them, and she grinned, grateful back-story could wait.
“Actually…that’s exactly where I was thinking you could stay. Cordelia, Anya and Dawn will be in the van Gunn borrowed. I could use you there, Connor, to protect my sister.” Buffy was deadly serious as she spoke to him in a calm, level tone. His shoulders slumped a bit even as he nodded, but he knew she was trusting him with something vital, and despite his trepidation he respected her as a fighter.
“Thank you,” she told him quietly, and turned back to the group.
“We leave in one hour.”
