7/Bad Night

Thank you to the following people: Ursubear, Kelley, Jane
McCartney, Angelic Gemma, fluffypuff, cosmic, and Isabelle.
Also, I'd like to say something to daphne and Cindy, even
though I said something last part to Cindy: I'm glad you
have your own opinion, but perhaps you should open your
mind to more things. And daphne, "the point of writing
fanfiction is to take characters that we recognize and put
them in situations that we don't see on screen". As far as
I know, we can still identify most of the characters as who
they are, and I'm pretty damn sure that none of this has
ever been on the television screen.

This chapter also picks up the pace in the action, just so
you guys know. I don't think there are going to be very
many more parts. Sorry! Maybe if you ask nicely I'll see
what I can do about a sequel, if you want...

This part rated PG-13 for violence.

And thank you everyone who defended this story to daphne
and Cindy!

~*~ 7/Bad Night ~*~

Officer Dean--one of Spike's arresting officers--drummed his
fingers on the paper with the anonymous tip. So far, Officer
Dean had received two names to work from: Angelus, and
Liam McDowe. Liam McDowe had come up with a man who
had moved to Los Angeles from Ireland, spent a brief two
week period in Sunnydale, went back to Los Angeles, then
moved back to Ireland. Angelus had come up with the
international criminal, based in Ireland and based in the greater
Los Angeles area. Perhaps the two had a connection.

Dean had a creeping suspicion that Liam McDowe and Angelus
may've been the same person. After all, where Liam McDowe
stopped, Angelus picked up. They had nothing to nail him with,
and the Liam McDowe lead had come up bone dry. They
couldn't very well send the force to the address in Ireland.

Dean shook his head and sighed. Maybe the diamond-napper
had called up and thrown them off her lead. Or his. Who
knew. Dean certainly didn't.
***

Laim paced the room. Darla watched him, regretting having
told him that someone had told him his moniker. Liam McDowe
and Angelus too closely paralleled on paper, and the police
knew that Angelus had bases in Los Angeles (where Liam McDowe
had lived), and in Ireland (where Liam McDowe "currently lived").

"Liam?" Darla asked softly.

Liam rounded on her, eyes hard and all jagged edges. "Who tipped
off the police?"

"I-I don't know," Darla stammered. She brushed her hair away
from her face. "Maybe Buffy?"

"Buffy doesn't know shit," Liam spat. Then the proverbial light
bulb went off over his head. "William. Spike. Whatever his name
is."

"Spike," Darla offered timidly.

"Doesn't matter. He won't be for long. He'll be Puddle soon," Liam
jumped up and grabbed his jacket. "I'm going to find him and make
him wish he didn't disobey me."

Darla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to go warn
her cousin. Or he was going to die.
***

Darla crawled into the dingy Motel 6 Spike was staying in. He
wasn't paying anything, and he used the window as the door. He
snapped awake and grabbed his knife, holding it to Darla's throat.
"What do you want," he ground out throw gritted teeth.

"Spike, it's me," Darla whispered. "Darla."

"I bloody well know who you are," Spike spat, rising to his feet and
backing away from her. He was mostly clothed, all but his duster
and extra shirt on. "What do you want?"

"It's Liam," Darla told him. "I found out someone donated an
anonymous tip to the cops. He thinks it was you. And Spike--if
he finds you, he'll *kill* you, regardless if you made that call or
not. He's been trying to set you up since he found out you know
about what he stole--he set you up with the murder of those two
teachers. He knew that if he planted everything just right he
could get you on murder and not have to worry about you getting
in his way. And with all the press surrounding that, everyone
would forget about his--"

Spike clamped a hand over her mouth. "Why should I trust you?"

Darla looked at him and waited for him to take his hand away.
"Because you're family, Spike. We're the only family we have left,
and...I just want to help you. But if you don't get out of here
right about now you're going to end up even more dead."

"If this is a trap, Dar, I'm going to haun' you for the res' of your
bloody life, go' tha'?" Spike replied, losing control of his t's.

Darla nodded, glad that he was trusting her. She watched him
grab his bag, pause for a moment and give her a one-armed
hug, and spring out of the window. She just prayed that she'd
told him to run in time.
***

Spike crept through the park as noiselessly as he could. He hid
behind a tree every time a car passed by, or ducked behind the
bushes every time he heard footsteps. He began to think he
was in the clear when someone snuck up behind him and kicked
the small of his back with the heel of their boot. Spike tumbled
to the ground, grunting.

"Thought you could get away with it, huh?" Liam growled,
grabbing him by the colar of the shirt closest to Spike's body.
He kicked the duffel bag from Spike's arm and tore the extra
shirt and duster from the smaller man's body.

"Get away with wha', mate?" Spike answered, voice strained as
Liam wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled his hair back
with another hand.

"Get away with trying to turn me in," Liam kicked Spike's feet
from under him, Spike's head landing on the grass with a dull
thud. Spike saw stars for a moment. Liam pressed his foot to
Spike's chest heavily, preventing him from breathing properly.
"I suppose you did." He picked the boy up and threw him
roughly into the tree, punching him across the jaw. "Since you
went into hiding and all that."

The corner of Spike's mouth was bleeding and the back of his
head probably was too. A couple of his teeth felt loose from the
power punch. Spike kicked Liam's lower stomach as hard as he
could, but Liam simply rolled out of it, holding Spike's foot as he
did. He heard his ankle crack loudly and pain shot up his leg, but
he ignored it, struggling to get away.

Liam pounced on him and grabbed his hair and pulled his hair back.
"Don't cross me, William."

Spike seriously doubted he wouldn't have whiplash by the end of
this.

Liam released Spike's head, the boy's nose slamming into the sidewalk
and busting open, beginning to bleed. Liam rolled him over and sat on
his stomach, suppressing his lungs and rendering the boy harmless.

Sirens went off down the street. Squad car sirens. Liam's eyes
flickered to the dancing blue and red lights, gave him a last punch and
kick, then tossed him behind the bushes and strolled away. Spike
had enough sense left in him to stay behind the bushes until the
police passed by, but then he crawled out and limped the opposite
direction of Liam. He could only hope that the man had left the park.

He pulled himself along the sidewalk, his aching lungs heaving from the
brutal beating. A car slower down beside him and the driver's side
window slid down.

"Spike?" Xander asked, poking his head out the window.

"Xander," he replied, panting and wiping the blood from the corner of
his mouth.

"Get in," Xander said, unlocking the back door. "Your limp is
ridiculous."

"Thanks," Spike answered dryly, limping into the car.
***

Willow drove down the highway, noticing how little the traffic was. It
was unusual to have such little traffic at this hour. She looked down
to change the radio station and heard a van honk on the other side
of the median.

She looked up and shook her head, silently admonishing the van for
driving so close to the median. She looked back down briefly to fiddle
with the radio dial, and heard metal scraping against metal. The van
had crossed over the median!

Willow cursed the two lane highway and tried to swerve the same time
the van did.

The van floored it and drove straight for Willow.

It slammed into Willow's car and shoved her into the railing and the car
rolled over twice and landed upside down. The door had crumpled and
the window had caved in, spraying her with shards of glass. The air-
bag pinned her to the seat and her seatbelt tore. The airbag had forced
her arm up at a funny angle, and the moment Willow moved it broke.
***

Oz and Buffy paced the waiting room of the Sunnydale hospital. They'd
received a call from Willow's mother that Willow had ended up in the
hospital and probably needed some familial support, but she couldn't be
there for her daughter. So she had contacted the boyfriend and the
best friend.

The doctor came out of the room.

"How is she?" Oz sprang over.

"She's fine," the doctor smiled. "You can visit with her for a little
while if you want."

"Thank god," Buffy sighed in relief. "Let's go, Oz."

The doctor led them to Willow's room. He held open the door as Buffy
and Oz entered the room, and left them to their friend.

"Hi Wills," Buffy smiled.

"Willow," Oz hurried over and hugged her gently.

"How are you feeling?" Buffy sat next to the bed.

"Hi Oz, hi Buffy. My arm hurts, they say it's broken, but other than
that I'm just a collage of bodily soreness," Willow sighed. "They had
to stitch up my forehead," she touched the bandage on her forehead
with her good hand, "but I'm okay besides that."

"It was pretty bad, huh," Buffy smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. I'm just glad I was the only one in
the car," Willow shrugged with her good arm. "The airbag broke my
arm."

Buffy and Oz laughed a little. "I'm just glad you only got a broken
arm and stitches," Oz kissed her forehead. "It could've been worse."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed.
***

Xander pulled into the emergency room parking lot. He and Cordelia
helped Spike, much to his chagrin, hop into the emergency room
itself. Within moments they had Spike hop into the room next door
to Willow's.

He didn't break his ankle, the x-rays said after they'd brought a
machine out to take pictures of his ankle, but he did sprain it pretty
good. They wrapped it up in an Ace bandage.

Buffy and Oz walked by the room, and Xander caught sight of them.

"Hey!" he called.

Buffy and Oz stopped and looked at Xander. "Hey yourself," Buffy
replied. "What're you doing here?"

"Cordy and I brought Spike here. We found him beat up by the
park," Xander told them.

Buffy's eyes went wide and she entered the room. "Spike," she
sucked in a breath. "You look like hell..."

"I feel like hell, and thanks, luv," he answered, rubbing his neck
gingerly.

"What happened?" Buffy walked over and sat on the little bed-type
thing he sat on.

"Your ex beat the hell out of me," he confessed.

"My poor baby," Buffy frowned and repaired his hair a little with
her hand. "Oh...oh Spike...you're bleeding back here."

"I figured," Spike sighed. "Hey whelp, hand me tha' towel over
there."

Xander tossed him the towel and Spike held it to the back of
his head. "Bloody sod. I'm outta here."

"You have to be discharged," Buffy protested.

"I'm outta here," he repeated, getting off the bench-type bed
and hobbled out of the room.

Buffy sighed. "He's stupid."
***

Monday morning, Joyce opened up her gallery and turned off
the security system, to find it already off. She frowned, she
could have sworn she turned the security system on the
previous Saturday. So, just in case, she made her rounds to
the paintings.

She rounded the corner and found a large, gaping white empty
space where their most valuable painting had hung.

"No. No..."