France is that way?

by Harry Lime

Spike & Harmony meet for the first time and give the Watchers Council a much needed kick in its complacency.

4. Standing by your man.

France is that way?

Part IV

SPIKE: Okay, is it bigger than a breadbox?
HARMONY: (smiling) No. Four left.
SPIKE: So it's smaller than a breadbox.
HARMONY: (giggling) No! Only three!
SPIKE: (quietly annoyed) Harmony ... is it a sodding breadbox?
HARMONY: (clapping and laughing) Yes! Oh my god! Someone's blondie bear is a twenty-question genius!

(Out of my mind)

'Well,' said Spike as he wandered around the late-Roy's flat. 'Seems Mr. Meagher did quite well for himself before you killed him.'

Ethan was still on the floor and groaning.

'Oi, I'm talking to you sunshine,' Spike gave the comatose warlock a friendly kick in the ribs. 'Where's my bloody chrondilla?'

'Spikey, I'm hungry,' Harmony whined.

'Eh? Oh, eat the ginger midget.'

If it were not for the double-glazing, Chapman would have already jumped through the living-room window. He was so close to escape and he'd been caught by Spike, not only that but Spike had the American vamp who killed Lucy with him! She knew about the gem of amara and that meant Spike knew about it. She was leaning against the front door and showed no signs of moving. His briefcase (which had the stolen laptop and all his notes pertaining to the gem in it) was right by her feet

'But he's gross,' Harmony complained. 'And I don't like the colour of his hair.'

She doesn't know who I am, the spell really works. The relief quickly evaporated when he realised that just because they didn't want to eat him it didn't make him any safer.

Spike wasn't too bothered about his girlfriend's fussy eating habits. 'Well just bloody kill him then.'

'Spiiiiiike.'

'Ssh, men talk,' and with that he hauled Ethan to his feet and gave him a few slaps. 'C'mon mush, wakey-wakey.'

'Urrrrr.'

'There y'go. Now, where's my chrondilla?'

Ethan's eyes guiltily darted to the left. Spike followed his gaze and looked at the small crucible that was resting on the coffee table.

'I see,' the vampire said quietly and he dragged Ethan over to the table in order to examine the crucible's smouldering contents. 'That's a bit unfortunate all round isn't it. Have any left?'

Ethan shook his head.

'Oh well,' Spike pulled the warlock's head back and prepared to sink his fangs into Ethan's neck

Ethan panicked. 'Wait, wait I'm a sourcerer! What do you need? I can do it whatever it is!'

Spike resumed his human face and thought for a few seconds.

'Doubt it,' he vamped back. 'Lets get with the sucking.'

'No, no, you're looking for someone that's why you were going to add Wolfsbane to the chrondilla. I don't need that to find someone!'

Spike devamped again. 'Alright,' with his freehand he reached into his coat pocket and retrieved the bag of fingernails he'd gotten from Balthazar. 'I was going to cast a possession spell using these, obviously that's not going to happen now cause even I know that spell can't be done without chrondilla. So tell me……'

'Ethan.'

'Ethan, how do I go about finding a Watcher called Harry Chapman?'

Chapman nearly had a heart attack on the spot. Now he knew for sure Spike was after him and why. He prayed to God that Ethan wouldn't be so stupid as to betray him right here, which would get them both killed.

Fortunately, Ethan was more than canny enough to know that revealing who the small redheaded man really was would be suicide (not that he normally had any problem with betrayal) so he kept quiet. Unfortunately he was so surprised that when Spike mentioned Chapman that he had been unable to prevent showing a hint of recognition at the sound of the name.

'Oooh, do know Harry Chapman?'

'No.' WHAM!!! 'yes.'

'And where is he?'

'Not here,' Ethan thought quickly, in the far off distance he could see a way out. 'But I know where he is, I'm meeting him tonight, I'll take you there.'

'Where?'

'Waterloo Station,' Ethan went for broke. 'He's got £20,000 in a storage locker there and he's going to give it to me for services rendered.'

'You bastard!' Chapman yelled.

Spike turned to look at him, then he looked at Harmony (who was still leaning against the door and had a prize winning sulky look on her face). 'Harm, why is this berk still alive?'

She shrugged.

Spike closed his eyes and sighed. 'Fine,' he shoved Ethan into an armchair and gave him a look that clearly said don't move.

'I have to do everything,' he grumbled to Chapman as he walked over to him. 'Sorry about this mate but you know how it is.'

Chapman did some quick thinking of his own. 'He doesn't have the key to the storage locker,' he said pointing at Ethan. 'In fact he doesn't even know which locker it's in.'

'I bloody do,' protested Ethan.

Spike looked over his shoulder at him. Ethan hung his head. 'Alright I don't.'

'And I suppose you do,' said Spike as he turned his attention back to Chapman.

'Yes, yes Harry didn't trust him so he asked me to safeguard the key.'

'Where's the key?'

'Not here.'

Spike floored Chapman. 'I ask again, where's the key?'

Chapman piled lie on top of lie. 'At Waterloo, I'll show you. I'm meeting someone else who's got the key; he doesn't know what it's for. He gives it to me, I give it to Ethan and Ethan gives it to Harry and Harry hands over the money.'

Ethan piped up. 'Er, Harry's only expecting to see me and he knows what I look like.'

'Spike, I'm really hungry.'

'Harm!' He fumed silently for a few seconds. 'Alright kids, we're all going on a trip to Waterloo then. I only want Chapman and when I have him you two can toddle off. Get your things.'

The two humans glared at each other, both trying to think of a way out which would leave the other in the shit. Ethan got up and grabbed his gray mac and Chapman picked up his briefcase, he didn't want to risk taking it but he wasn't going to have a chance to come back.

When they were ready, Spike grabbed each of them by the arm and pulled them in close. 'Just so's we're all clear on my policy regarding escaping…' he whispered and went into vamp face, '…I don't approve.'

PC Terry Swanwick was enjoying an afterwork pint with his sergeant. It had been a quiet day really, well, except for the lunchtime road accident near Kings Cross. Poor bastard, he'd been smeared all over the road, Terry and sergeant Cathcart had been the ones to go round and inform his mum. He hated death duty, the poor old cow had sobbed her eyes out for half an hour. Fortunately the man hadn't been married, that was always the worst - a wife and kids left behind. Then again, and Terry didn't like thinking ill of the dead, he'd seen a photo of poor old Roy at his mum's and it wasn't surprising he was single.

He supped from his pint and then almost sprayed it over the next table as he choked. He was in his usual bar, which was directly opposite Angel station, and there, on the other side of the street walking towards Angel was the bugger they'd scrapped off the street eight hours ago.

Sergeant Cathcart came back from the bar and plonked another pint and large whisky on the table in front of Terry. 'C'mon Tel, sup up.'

Terry was pale. 'Sarge…'

'Yes lad?'

'Over there,' and he pointed at across the street.

Cathcart looked over. 'What?'

'There, it's the guy what got killed at Kings Cross this afternoon. He's with two blokes in long coats and some tart.'

Cathcart focused on the ginger man and then he looked at the blonde one in the long black coat.

'You're imagining things,' he said and then downed his whisky and grabbed his coat. 'Gotta dash, see you tomorrow.'

As Cathcart was running across the road, the quartet walked into Angel Station. Cathcart got out his mobile and quickly dialed a number, as he entered the station he saw the group passing through the ticket barriers and heard the woman shout at the top of her voice: 'OOH, Spikey. Waterloo! After Harry we can go to France!'

After a few hours much needed rest, WPC Harris was making her way towards Travers office when Cunningham came pounding down the corridor and grabbed her arm. 'C'mon, we've got him!'

'Spike?'

'Too bloody right, one of our blokes saw him, the American bird and a fella who answered to Ethan Rayne's description at Angel tube. He heard them talking about going to Waterloo and someone called Harry! We can get him right now. I've ordered every watcher stationed on the South Bank to converge on Waterloo, Holt and Naylor are waiting for us outside in the car.'

Standing in the main entrance to Waterloo Station, three of the wanted quartet were looking decidedly miserable. Ethan and Chapman wouldn't even look at each other and Harmony was bored and wouldn't stop fidgeting. 'Spike, the train…'

'We are not going to France,' Spike snapped. 'Not yet,' he glared at Chapman. 'Where is this bugger with the key?'

'I-I-I…' was all Chapman could say.

Ethan filled in the blanks. 'There isn't any bugger,' he said without looking at Chapman. 'He's got the key, he just didn't want you to kill him.'

'That right? You thought I'd kill you if you just handed it over?'

Chapman nodded.

'Sensible man, course I would. Let's see it then.'

Chapman handed over the key and Spike examined it. 'I see the locker number's been filed off. Pretty busy at Waterloo this time of night might draw all sorts of unwanted attention if I beat the number out of you.'

'Probably.'

Spike grabbed a handful of Chapman's chest and squeezed. A couple of old women who were walking past them looked round when they heard the scream and then hurried up the steps.

'People don't seem that bothered,' Spike gloated as Chapman slumped against the wall clutching his breast and he was only clutching it with one hand as well.

'Interesting that you're still holding on to that brief case,' Spike observed. 'What's in it?'

'Nothing.'

'Something for Chapman,' said Ethan.

Spike laughed, 'You'll do whatever's necessary to save your hide won't you.'

Ethan looked offended. 'What's the point in being noble?'

Spike was impressed. 'Ooh I like you, how would you like to live forever?'

'I'm working on that, but I'd like to be immortal and still sunbathe if it's all the same to you.'

Spike shrugged and then grabbed the briefcase off Chapman and opened it. 'Hey, I've always wanted a laptop,' he snapped the case shut and grabbed Chapman's arm. 'C'mon Ali Baba, time for Open Sesame,' he began to drag Chapman up the main entrance steps. 'Harm,' he said without looking back. 'If Ethan tries to leave you'll tear out his heart for your Spikey won't you.'

Harmony was still sulking. 'Might do.'

'I'm told Marseilles is lovely this time of year.'

'So?'

'It's in France you divvy bint.'

She brightened up almost immediately. 'Okay, shall I gouge his eyes out as well?'

'Only if you think it'll make me happy,' said Spike as he and Chapman went into the station.

'Kay. I'll do your eyes as well,' she simpered at Ethan and then leant against the wall and started filing her nails.

Ethan stared at her for a few seconds. Then he turned his attention to the station entrance at the top of the steps…he could push her over, be up the steps and into the main station in seconds. The place was huge and would be awash with commuters and a few cops to tackle Harmony and give their lives in order to save their betters.

'I'll do the eye thing you know,' she said without looking up from her filing.

'What? I'm waiting right here, no plans to escape at all.'

She looked at him with a blank expression.

'Honest,' he protested. 'An Englishman's word is his bond.'

She brightened up at that and then said with total sincerity: 'Really? Oh, that's good, one less thing to worry about, I was starting to think Spikey might be a bit,' she frowned, 'du-pli-cit-ous.' The last word was said slowly and carefully and then she went back to her arduous nail filing. After a couple of seconds she looked up again. 'That last word meant sleazeoid, right?'

'Precise definition, in fact.'

They lapsed into another couple of minutes of silence. Then Ethan stood up away from the wall and turned to stare at Harmony.

'Harmony, just look into my eyes will you.'

After several minutes of flashing blue lights and sirens, Cunningham and his troops left their police car a short distance from Waterloo and quickly made for a walkway connecting Waterloo Station to a series of office buildings on York Street. Harris, Holt and Naylor had left the more obvious parts of their uniforms in the car and replaced them with bags containing an array of small crossbows, holy water and crosses.

Cathcart, who knew Cunningham, was already waiting for them on the walkway, and after a brief round of introductions, appraised them of the situation.

'Spike and some small ginger bloke, who is the spitting image of a fatal road accident from lunchtime I might add, have gone off toward the storage locker area. Spike is carrying a black briefcase he took off the ging and Ethan Rayne and the female vamp are still waiting in the main entrance. There are only three uniformed officers in the station and none of them work for the Council.'

'How many Watchers do we have?' asked Cunningham.

'Er, now that you're here, five.'

'What?'

Cathcart shrugged. 'Can't be helped, we're still in the tailend of rush hour. Every road and tube is practically gridlocked. We've more on the way but not every Watcher has a panda car to plough through the traffic and the station is packed with commuters.'

'Marvelous,' Cunningham sighed. 'Harris, take Holt and Naylor and work your way round to the main entrance and get ready to cut them off if they make a break for it. The subways round here are like a bloody rabbit warren.' He turned to Cathcart, 'Everyone knows that Spike is our priority. We can worry about Rayne and your ginger Lazarus later and from what I've heard the female's no threat.'

He looked back at Harris. 'Well what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? C'mon Stan,' he said to Cathcart as the three junior officers ran off back the way they came, 'lets get closer, not too much though. It's been a few years but Ethan Rayne'll recognise my face.'

'Relax mate,' said Spike as he and Chapman walked back toward Harmony and Ethan. 'I've got the money and you're still alive aren't you? Course that's only because that bunch of Jap tourists came into to pick up their luggage but still, nothing to worry about eh. You've played your part, you can go now.'

From Spike's perspective, Chapman's skin had gone so pale it made one hell of a contrast with his hair. 'Wos wrong?'

Chapman nervously licked his lips. 'Er, can I have my briefcase back please?'

'Which one?' Spike held one up in each hand. 'You don't strike me as being daft enough to think I'm handing the money over do you.'

'No, I…I'd like the one with the laptop.'

Chapman could remember enough from his own notes to be able to find the gem but under the current circumstances he's have no more than half a day's head start on Spike if he kept hold of the notes. Hell, he'd have about ten minutes if Ethan got backed into a corner and talked. 'Well?'

Spike couldn't help but smile. 'You serious?'

'Ah.'

'You bloody are aren't you!'

'Oh well, worth a try,' Chapman started to back away but Spike put both cases in his right hand and grabbed Chapman's arm with his left. 'Anyone else would've legged it a second after I said 'go now.' You've caught my interest.'

'What's happening,' asked Cunningham, who standing behind a news stall in case Ethan saw him.

'Spike and the ging have just stopped for a little chat, now he's grabbed the ging's arm and they're heading off back to the entrance.'

'Any idea what they got from the locker?'

'Another black briefcase, Spike's carrying them both in one hand,' then Cathcart dropped his voice to a whisper. 'God, he's literally ten feet away from us.'

'Don't even think it.'

'He's got his back turned.'

'And with all these civilians milling around you won't get anywhere near him before he twigs. We wait till he's in the main entrance there'll be fewer witnesses, we're going to dust him at the first opportunity.'

'Someone's bound to notice.'

'But not as many as in the middle of the station.' Cunningham got his radio out. 'Harris? You in position?'

'Acknowledged sarge.'

'Any of the others here yet?' he asked Cathcart. Cathcart shook his head.

'Alright, we move in slowly, we can't leave this any longer. Harris, get ready.'

'Well,' Spike said cheerily as he saw Ethan and Harmony. 'He's still alive, I had you down as the sort to bolt the minute my back was turned,' he said to Ethan.

'Now that's unfair.'

'So it is. My I'm having to revise my opinion of human nature here. I gave your mate the chance to leave and he wouldn't go without his briefcase.'

Ethan glanced at Chapman. 'That's because it has something for Chapman in it, something he doesn't want you to see.'

'Shut up,' hissed Chapman and then winced as Spike tightened his grip on the human's arm.

Ethan carried on. 'I don't know what it is though, but he certainly doesn't want you to see.'

'I've gathered that and I'm dying to ask old Harry when he gets here. When is he getting here?'

Ethan looked at Harmony, who hadn't spoken a word since Spike returned. She was still busy filing her nails. Ethan smiled, 'Why don't you ask her.'

Spike looked at his girlfriend. 'What's he taking about?' She didn't respond. 'Oi,' he yelled, leaning in close, 'I asked you a question.'

She still wouldn't answer.

'I don't think you're being polite,' said Ethan.

'Oh yes I was, you'd know if was being impolite, now shut up.'

'Let me try, Harmony?' she looked up at Ethan and smiled. He smiled back, 'Now.'

She looked at Spike, widened her smile and then thrust her nail file into his face.

'Oh Christ,' said Cunningham and then yelled into his radio, 'GO GO GO!'

Spike roared as the file sunk into his left cheek and stumbled back, letting go of both Chapman and the briefcases. Ethan backhanded Chapman, who was knocked over partly from the force of the blow but mostly from surprise. Ethan grabbed one of the cases, hoping like hell it was the money and pelted up the steps and into the station. As he went up the steps he swung an arm out behind him, pointing in the general direction of Chapman, and yelled 'Dissipate!'

Chapman, Spike and Harmony all yelled in fear and confusion as the magical aura surrounding the DI literally exploded. Spike and Harmony went tumbling down the steps (Harmony's hair had caught fire for the second time that day). Spike was the first to recover and saw Harris, Holt and Naylor charging towards him. He snarled and grabbed hold of the one remaining briefcase, which had been knocked down the stairs with him, and raced off into one of the many subways that led in and out of Waterloo with the three officers right behind him.

Ethan had charged into Waterloo only to run smack into Cathcart and Cunningham, who floored the warlock with one punch. 'Cuff him and stay with him,' he barked at Cathcart. 'Don't take your eyes off him for a second.' He looked round and saw the three non-watcher officers Cathcart had mentioned running towards them. 'Make sure they keep out of the way, tell em to make sure no one leaves via the main entrance.'

He carried on through the entrance then stopped. Instead of finding a small and rather ugly ginger haired man he found himself staring a rather frazzled looking DI Harry Chapman, his face was covered with black smudges and wisps of smoke were coming off his clothes.

Chapman was leaning against the wall and wheezing gently, Cunningham was too surprised to do anything other than say 'Harry?'

Chapman looked up and saw his sergeant. 'Fuck,' he swore and then raced off, ignoring the subway and tearing off toward Waterloo Bridge.

Spike, the nail file still embedded in his cheek, tore through the subway kicking aside a few of the homeless people who regularly slept there. He rounded a corner and ran into a metal gate that had been pulled across the middle of the tunnel. Swearing, he began to wrench the padlock off when a small crossbow bolt was shot into his hand. He snarled and turned to face the three Watchers who'd chased him down there.

The woman stood in the centre of the tunnel, flanked on either side by the two men. She reloaded the crossbow and gave Spike a little smile. As she took her aim her smile slipped into a look of astonishment, then it turned into the blank expression of a corpse as a hand burst through her chest and she was lifted off the ground.

Spike, like Holt and Naylor, was too shocked to do anything as, with her hair still smoking and mascara running all over the place, Harmony lifted Harris off the ground. 'GET AWAY FROM MY BLONIDE BEAR, BITCH!' She screeched and swung Harris' corpse into Naylor, who was knocked flying and landed flat out on the ground, where an audible cracking sound came from the back of his head.

Holt recovered his senses in time to raise a stake but not in time to stop Spike from lunging over and practically twist his head off his shoulders. He dropped the dead watcher and stared at Harmony, who lowered her arm to let the woman's body slip off it.

Burning hair and smeared mascara would look bad on any woman, on a female vampire in full fright mode they gave new meaning to the word horror.

She looked at the nail file that was still in his face and started crying. 'Spikey,' she blubbed. 'I'm so sorry, I don't know how he made do it. I was just looking at him and then next thing I knew the little ginger man exploded into a big one.'

Spike stared at her for a few seconds, utterly hypnotised. Then a few words penetrated his skull, 'I'm sorry, what?'

'He turned into the cop who was mean to me.'

'The ging was Chapman?'

Chapman may have had seniority to Cunningham in the Watchers and the police but he was inferior in terms of years, twenty at least. Cunningham had barely reached Waterloo Bridge by the time Chapman was halfway across. He held his police radio in one hand and his watchers one in the other. 'Chapman,' he wheezed into both. 'DI Chapman is on Waterloo Bridge heading to the North Bank. Anyone…stop him.'

Chapman was almost to the other end of the bridge when he saw three men in plain clothes, definitely Watchers, running towards him. He started to dodge through the traffic to get to the other side of the road when he saw a uniformed officer there waiting for him. He only hesitated for a second but that was more than enough time to put him in harm's way…

'The lorry tried to swerve but it was too close,' Cunningham explained to Travers. 'It sideswiped him and knocked him flying off the bridge and into the river.'

'Dead?'

'Probably, he definitely was after the propeller of a tourist cruiser cut him up. We found Cathcart running naked up and down an escalator in Waterloo, evidently I didn't hit Ethan as hard as I thought.'

'Gone?'

'Without trace.'

Travers walked over to the window and looked back out over the night skyline. Only this morning he'd been stood there thinking of retirement. 'And Spike?'

Cunningham shook his head. 'Harris and Holt are dead. Naylor is in a coma, don't know if he'll wake up and if he does he'll never walk again. No trace of Spike or the girl, I think he got what he wanted off Chapman.'

Travers kept staring out the window. 'So do I.'

Cunningham stood to attention. 'Sir, I wish to apologise. I take full responsibility for this fiasco, you'll have my resignation in the morning.'

'Oh do shut up sergeant, it's not necessary.'

'Sir?'

'If this was anyone's fault it's mine, the whole council's in fact. We got complacent, too comfortable with the status quo. They don't make too much noise and we look the other way and when one of them started to shout we couldn't react in time and now we've got dozens of corpses to clear away.'

He turned to face Cunningham. 'I understand you've already resigned from the police.'

'Yes sir, well they'll have to be an inquiry first into what happened to Harris, Holt and Naylor but with all that's happened it'll be a whitewash, 'armed terror gangs' and so on.'

'More junkies.'

'Yes sir, the only problem is that myself, Cathcart and the others had no real business being there as it's not our patch. I'm sure I'll come up with something.'

'I'm sure you will sergeant, that's why Chapman's job with the council is still yours if you want it.'

'It is?'

Travers nodded. 'You think this is your fault, I think it's mine and I don't think resigning and spending our retirement years brooding is going to solve anything.'

Cunningham smiled. 'No sir, thank you sir.'

Travers turned back to the window. 'Go home sergeant, spend some time with your wife and get a decent nights sleep. Then, first thing tomorrow, I want you to take a team of forty men and close down Balthazar Boswell. Give Boswell six hours to leave London and stake every vampire you find in there. We're finished with playing nice with these things, no more no go areas and the next time you see your vampire informant - dust him. It's time we stopped Watching and went back to war.'

On the Wales to Ireland ferry, Ethan Rayne was being noisily seasick over the side. God, he hated boats. He looked toward Ireland and could vaguely make out the port of Holyhead on the horizon. Then it would be up to Dublin and back off to America. He put his hand into his coat pocket and checked that the last pinch of chrodilla was still there, he'd been working on a spell that could transform a man into a Fyaral Demon and had just the candidate in mind. The twenty grand sitting in his cabin would pay for a nice leisurely jaunt across the states and then it'd be back to Sunnydale and a reunion with his old mate Ripper.

In the cargo hold of a transatlantic flight to La Guardia Airport in New York, Spike was reading through Harry Chapman's notes.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The gem was in the 'Valley of the Sun.' Sunnydale, sodding Sunnydale. What were the odds? He'd planned to head over there once he had the gem but this, all the time he'd spent in that miserable little shithole and his ticket to ultimate power had been there all along.

He looked over at the slumbering Harmony; she'd insisted on coming with him back to America. England had put her off Europe for the time being. She said next time she'd take a plane straight to Paris but the idea of killing Willow Rosenberg seemed to have displaced the frogs as her number one obsession. He couldn't think why she found Willow so annoying. He'd always rather liked her, as far as he was concerned Red was prime vampire material.

He put the notes away with the switched off laptop and laid back on a couple of sturdy rucksacks. The gem of amara, what couldn't he do with that. No, that wasn't the right way to look at it. What could he do with it? That was a much longer list.

He closed his eyes and started to drift off.

Angel, Willow, Giles…The Slayer. Whatever they want to do with their lives they'd better hurry up and get it done, cause the Big Bad is about to make them end.

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Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, and all characters are created by Joss Whedon and owned by him, Kazui Sandollar®, Mutant Enemy®, 20th Century Fox® and the Warner Bros. Network®. No copyright infringment is intended anywhere. This is a story purely for entertainment purposes. No profit is gained from this story. The author has no connection to Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, except having a complete love for the show. No harm or copyright infringement is intended.