The groups took to the streets en masse, cramming themselves into Xander’s sedan and Angel’s convertible and headed out to their destinations laden with weapons and more than a little tension. They parked together, a few blocks from either building, and regrouped once more before taking off.

“No heroics,” Buffy reminded them. “If you happen to come across something serious, let the others know. We’re here to be sure where they’re holding Spike and figure out what obstacles are in our way, not to rescue him tonight.”

“Why’s that again?” Gunn wanted to know. “Teams of six…team of twelve once we let the rest know what’s goin’ on. Should be more than enough to go up against whatever they’ve got guarding him.”

Buffy glanced at him. “I’d rather have a plan. We can’t risk anyone getting hurt.”

“Dying while trying to rescue Spike is not on my list of things to do…ever,” Xander quipped, adjusting the knife in his jacket pocket.

“No one’s going to die,” Angel announced firmly. “Get in, get out. That’s the plan.” Without a word he nodded his head at Gunn. “Go.”

Gunn was apparently used to gruff orders from the vampire, but Xander, Willow and Giles weren’t. With surprised nods they turned to follow Faith and the Los Angeles members of their team, throwing curious looks back at Buffy.

“Let’s get this over with,” Angel asked the group standing around him, and turned to leave without waiting for a response.

Buffy’s eyes narrowed just a bit. “Aye, aye captain,” she muttered, glancing at Dawn who simply raised her eyebrows.

“So, Angel,” Dawn tried as they walked. “Where’s Connor?”

He looked back at her over his shoulder briefly. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t think he’ll show up to help us?”

“I don’t know,” he said again.

“’Cause he’s pretty strong, too, right? We could probably use another able-body when this whole thing goes down with Spike and the big evilness,” she chattered on. “Is he really your son? How did that happen…I mean,” she glanced at her sister for confirmation, “I thought vampires couldn’t have kids.”

“I’ll see about finding him when we get back,” Cordy offered, allowing Angel to dodge the question of Connor’s mystical parentage. “He needs to know that we’re okay, that we got our memories back.”

Wesley nodded. “I agree with Dawn…if he can be persuaded to accompany us later it might be very useful.”

“He appeared to be quite capable, what little I saw of him,” Anya added. “You know, when Buffy wasn’t handing his ass to him.” Dawn hid a smile.

Angel sighed and turned around. “You know, search and rescue missions might be a little more successful if the people holding Spike didn’t hear us sneaking up on them,” he snapped before turning again and leading them down an alley.

His words were met with stunned silence and worried glances. As Angel quickened his pace he managed to separate himself from the group until Cordelia caught up with him. “Okay, you’ve been nothing but sour-puss since the spell. I know it’s weird, and I know,” she said, lowering her voice, “that we’ve got some things to discuss…you and me…but that’s not their fault. Stop taking it out on all of them if you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not upset with you,” he said gruffly.

“Whatever. I’m just saying…you’re not making this easier. So shut up, put on a happy face, and let’s get this done.” Eyes flashing she stared at him until he looked over at her as well.

“Fine,” he nodded.

“Thank you.”

They turned at the end of the alley and stopped at a series of doors lining a long brick building. “Wolfram and Hart,” Wesley murmured.

“Which door?” Angel asked.

“None of them. It’s hidden,” Buffy answered with a huff.

“Which you would have known, if you hadn’t been hiding in your room while we were coming up with a plan,” Dawn muttered under her breath, fully aware that Angel’s vampire hearing picked that up easily.

“Shall we?” Buffy asked.

“They’re probably expecting us,” Angel told her.

“Probably.”

“The roof would be a better option.”

She sighed, turning to him, hands on hips. “It might have been, if Wesley hadn’t informed us that they just installed new, up-to-date demonic sensors in the skylights. Service entrance is the way to go.”

“This goes from the basement up through a series of corridors, usually used to transport high-energy and mystical artifacts,” Wesley told him quietly as Anya began pulling equipment out of her bag. “The vampire sensors don’t work down here due to the high electronic frequencies sent out from the machinery. You’ll be safe to enter.”

“And when I get above this floor?”

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be less safe.”

“I still say the roof is the better option,” Angel argued as Anya knelt before the door and began chanting. “And what is she doing?”

Anya glanced up at him. “I’m unlocking the door.”

“Kicking it in usually works.”

“Yeah…if this was the door we wanted open,” Cordelia told him, pointing to the blue industrial door before them. “The one we want is more of a portal, right?” Anya nodded and returned her concentration to the spell.

Buffy strode to him, pulling him aside and speaking low. “What is wrong with you? This is what we came up with. This is what we’re doing. You were there when we started laying it out. If you have a problem with the plan why didn’t you say something then?”

He shrugged uncomfortably out of her hold. “I don’t have a problem with the plan. I’m just saying that the way to deal with these people isn’t with finesse. It’s with brute strength--”

“Got it,” Anya whispered triumphantly, as the air around them suddenly became thick and wavy.

“Save the brute strength,” Buffy told Angel with a look and cautiously stepped around him and through the doorway.

“Where do we go?” Dawn whispered when they were all through.

Buffy pointed straight ahead of them. “This way. Wes?”

Wesley pulled a crude map from his inside jacket pocket. “Follow me,” he whispered and the group armed themselves. Cautiously they headed down one hallway, turning into another before ending up at a door. “This is the service way…it leads to the elevator. At this time of night it’s not unusual for there to be elevator activity. We shouldn’t raise any eyebrows until the vampire detectors go off.”

“That’s why we need Angel to be a distraction,” Buffy whispered back. She glanced at Angel, head cocked. “Ready?” When he nodded she took out her cell phone and turned it to “mute.” “If you run into trouble, or we find Spike, we’ll contact each other. Do you want someone to go with you? Cordy…you’re part of the team. They won’t be surprised if you’re with him, snooping about--”

“No,” Cordelia and Angel chimed, then shifted uncomfortably and Angel stammered, “No. It’s not necessary. Cordy should stick with you guys.”

Buffy watched them for a moment, unsure what was going on before dismissing it. “Fine, whatever. Angel, stick with us as long as possible, take off when there’s trouble. I’ll cover the others.”

They began climbing the stairs to the upper floors.

*~*~*

Willow entered the apartment building first, muttering a charm to herself that would instantly reveal if any demonic or mystical guards were watching over the entrances. In a moment a blue light began to shine around a perfectly obvious bubble, right over the doorway and over several of the lower windows.

“Amateurs,” she chastised to herself with a smile and took out a bag of Hargot flakes, tossing them over the bubbles until they popped on their own.

She repeated the task a few more times around the lobby until all the bubbles had been destroyed. Praying there wasn’t a counter-charm, or alarm to alert someone of their spell’s failure, she returned to the front door and waved in the rest of her team. “All clear…so far.”

“Protection?” Giles asked her as they headed to the elevator.

“Couple of Pentent Bubbles, kid-stuff,” she scoffed. “Gone. He’s either not here, or they’re not too worried about anyone trying to find the people who are here.”

“I’m personally hoping for option A,” Xander told her as they loaded themselves onto the elevator and the doors shut.

Willow turned to the security camera. “Hold,” she muttered and the blinking light that showed it was recording went to permanent red. “Xander, Giles and I will take floors 2-10, you guys take 11-20. Telepathy’s on if you need to talk pronto. Just…don’t scream. Gives me a headache,” the witch explained with a sheepish smile. “And it’s sorta draining because I have to keep the passages open between us. Normally not so much a problem in a space this size, but twenty floors up is a little bit of stretch.”

“Telepathy?” Faith asked.

Willow turned to her. You can talk to me, even if we’re on different floors.

Faith’s eyes widened. “Woah.” Mental note, don’t mess with the witch, she thought involuntarily and Willow’s lips quirked to a satisfied smile.

“And if we find him?” Faith asked, hand tight around the stake it held.

“Let the others on your floor know,” Willow told her. “Don’t try to break him out yourself. There could be charms or guards.”

“Or charms that alert more guards,” Fred offered.

“Exactly,” Willow nodded. “Ready?”

The nodded, Gunn and Faith seemingly more pumped about the mission than the rest of them. “Let’s do this,” the Slayer said with zest. Willow hit the button for the second floor and the elevator began to hum as it moved between floors.

“Good luck!” she called cheerily, exiting a moment later. The doors closed behind her and Fred punched the button to take them to the 11th floor.

“How are we going to know if he’s here?” Faith asked. “We can’t bust down every apartment without tellin’ someone we’re here.”

Fred grinned and whipped around the black bag hanging from her shoulder. Pull out an odd shaped device she flipped some switches and it lit up with a series of soft beeps. “Body-temperature detector, so to speak,” she explained, fiddling with the machine. “We’ll aim it at the walls as we walk and see who’s home.”

“And who’s alive,” Gunn nodded.

“Anyone not registering in at 98.6 gets a social call,” Faith agreed and hopped off the elevator as the doors opened. They began walking the halls slowly.

“You know, this might have been a better idea during the day,” Gunn mused as they went. “Demons tend to be out at night.”

“But humans live here, too. More humans than demons, actually,” Fred whispered, concentrating on the device. “We would have been more obvious then.”

“’Cause we blend so well now,” Faith observed. “Gettin’ anything yet?”

Seeing as how they’d passed only three apartments Fred raised an eyebrow. “Not yet.”

The Slayer sighed, fiddling with the stake in her hand as the continued on in silence. “So…what’s the deal with you guys? You work with Angel, I know…”

“That’s about it,” Gunn told her. “Used to run my own crew, got in with Angel, stayed.”

Fred nodded. “Angel rescued me from a demon dimension.”

“Who rescued you?” Gunn asked, eyebrows arched.

“Angel…and Gunn and Wesley rescued me,” she corrected with a silly grin. “My heroes.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Yeah…that’s nice.”

Gunn grinned. “Got her skinny butt out of that place, got some tacos in her…she turned out to be not so bad. Still skinny.”

“Like you can talk,” Fred shot back. “Anyway, we came back here and I just sorta…stayed. And now we’re all on the team.”

“Cool,” Faith said simply. “Anything?”

“You a little crazy for some action or somethin’?” Gunn asked her with a small smile.

“Does it show?” Faith responded with a smile of her own. “Yeah, guess I am. It’s been awhile. Last time I got in a fight it was with Patty, girl on A block who thought she was a bad ass with her fists.”

Gunn was instantly curious. “And?”

Faith shrugged. “I was badder.” When he grinned from ear to ear she couldn’t help but smile back. “Anyway, I got six months of laundry for that one. Was just about done, too, when you guys came in with the cavalry.”

“Miss it?”

“Not so much.”

“Charles has a police record,” Fred told her, wide-eyed.

Faith and Gunn shared a small smile. “Yeah? You run with some colors?”

He shook his head. “Never was one much for the gang-life. Ran my own crew, cleaning up our neighborhood. Big vamp problem in my neck of the woods. ‘cassionally some other fellas would come down, cross the lines…had to put ‘em in their place.”

“Sounds like fun.”

They turned a corner and headed down another hallway. “And you?” he asked. “Before you became Ms. Guest of the State, I mean. I know you were in with Buffy and Angel for a bit…”

“Boston born…came out to the coast on my own, met up with B,” she said without much feeling.

“And you ended up doing time…”

“Killed the wrong guy one night,” she said, eyes down. “Got a little…crazy after that.”

“And did some time in the pokey to make up for it--”

The machine in Fred’s hands began to beep softly. She swung it around to face apartment 1121. “We’ve got a body registering at 65.4 degrees,” she whispered.

“Sounds like the undead to me,” Faith agreed. Gunn raised his foot to kick the door in when Fred stopped him.

“Wait. We don’t move, remember? Surveillance only.”

Gunn’s foot was raised halfway to the door and he held it, perfectly balanced, for a moment before putting it down with disappointment. “Yeah…right. Right. So…now what?”

Fred was rummaging in her bag again. “A little fiber-optics goes a long way.” Pulling a long, thick wire from the bag she began to insert it under the bottom of the door slowly, quietly. When she had fed maybe four inches of the cable she stopped and retrieved another box, this one with a small television screen fitted on it.

“Got any snacks in there?” Faith asked, mildly curious.

“This is a small camera. It should be relatively undetectable to anyone in there, unless they happen to be looking right at the door at this precise moment, and it’ll let us…” she flipped the television screen on, “see inside.”

Faith was impressed. “Neat. What’ve we got?”

Fred leaned over and fiddled with the cord, reveling a normal looking living room with couches, a coffee table, an easy chair.

“Go left,” Gunn suggested and Fred began sweeping the cord the opposite way.

“Bingo,” she whispered a moment later. “This guy’s not alive.”

Faith leaned in a bit, peering at the black and white screen before them. The man was lying in a chair, sprawled, head back. “I don’t think that’s Spike.”

“What?”

She nodded toward the screen. “That’s not Spike…Spike has bleached blonde hair…and he’s not fat. Or he wasn’t a few years ago.”

“Can vampires get fat?” Fred wondered.

“How can we be sure?” Gunn asked. “The screen’s black and white, and grainy.”

Faith shrugged. “Can you get a better picture on this thing?”

Fred jiggled some wires before shaking her head. “I think that’s the best we get.”

“We have to go in,” Gunn decided. “It’s the only way we can know for sure.”

Faith shook her head. “We can’t. This is recon. We can alert the whole place that we’re here.”

“This is a demon lair!” Gunn insisted. “You think there weren’t a hundred eyes on us the minute we stepped foot in here? They probably got cameras and all kinds of stuff all over the place.”

“We need to call the others. Tell them what we found. We can decide from there,” Fred told them, pulling the cord from underneath the door and jotting down the apartment number. We’ll search the rest of the building and see if we come up with anything else. Then we’ll come back here.”

“Giles will know what to do,” Faith nodded. “Trust me. He always does.”

Gunn remained unconvinced. “It would take two minutes to check.”

“But it would take longer to escape if it’s a trap,” Fred reminded him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Faith cracked her neck. “Trust me, big guy. I’m dyin’ for a good tussle, same as you. Probably more. But we gotta hold off on this one. And I can’t believe I’m the one logic-ing our way out of this…” she muttered with disgust. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

They continued down the hall.

*~*~*

“We’ve got company,” Lilah murmured as she approached Spike.

“Mmm?” he asked lazily, eyes trained on the television before him.

“Company,” she repeated, and lifted a remote control from the table, flipping the channel.

“Hey!” he cried, sitting up. “I was watching that!” His protests fell on deaf ears when his focus caught the movements on the screen.

“Your friends seem to think they’re going to rescue you,” she smirked as she watched Angel and the Slayer prowling the halls of Wolfram and Hart.

Spike was fascinated. Buffy was here…she’d come. For him? “What makes you think they’re going to rescue me? For that matter, what makes you think I need rescuing? I could have been out of here long ago...if I wanted.”

“I have no doubt,” she nodded. “But you’re still here.”

“For the time being.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Pushing another button the screen split again, then twice more until it was sectioned off into four smaller screens. In the one were Angel and Buffy, to the right showed Wesley, Cordelia, Dawn and Anya a hallway over. The bottom half had Willow, Xander and Giles, to their right a trio of folks he didn’t know. Lilah’s eyes focused briefly on Wesley, narrowed, then relaxed. She would deal with that later.

“They pulled out all the stops, it seems. So far those are the only two buildings they’ve decided to search,” she told Spike. “But they’re getting close. They won’t get you, if you don’t want them to, that is,” she said pointedly, taking a seat on the coffee table before him. “But they’re close.”

“Yeah, so?” he scoffed, settling back again, unsettled but playing it cool.

Her eyes appraised him. “So…what I need to know is…are you in this or not? The time has come to stop playing games. We need to make some serious moves in the next day or two, and having Angel and the wonder kids interfering in my plans isn’t what I had in mind.”

“What serious moves?”

“We’re set to begin. The ritual, to empower you. It’s not the whole shebang, but it’s a start. One I’m sure you’ll find pleasantly…fun.” She grinned. “If you find a little chaos, some mass destruction…some human death…fun.”

That sounded like heaven…or it had, once upon a time. Now he wasn’t sure. Glancing back at the screens he watched Buffy take Angel aside and talk to him earnestly, her eyes trained on his face with compassion and just a bit of temper. He’d love to know what she was upset about…upset with the poof over.

When her hand came up and touched his forehead, almost lovingly, it seemed from his vantage point, Spike’s teeth clenched.

Lilah watched Spike carefully, pleased at his reaction to the Slayer’s seemingly gentle touch. With a flick of her hand she filled the screen with Buffy and Angel’s interactions, zooming in a bit. Just wish we had volume on this one, she thought gleefully as Spike’s hands worked themselves into fists.

“Seems our Slayer still has a thing for vampire’s with souls,” she mused softly, eyes on him.

Spike sniffed. “Yeah.” He rose to his feet. “When do we start?”

She smiled. “Soon. But first…let’s give our little cloak and daggers something to play with, shall we?” Crossing to the phone she picked it up and dialed a short series of numbers. “It’s me. We need some exterminating in the Dunn Building and on levels…1 and 3 in the main complex.”

Chapter Twenty-Three
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