Title: Sun and Shadow
Section: Sunnydale II
Part: 10/Oops We're In Trouble Again
Author: Arsahi
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Angel the Series belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.
Distribution: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.
Dedication: The normal people, you know who you are.
Rated: PG-13
Pairings: Angel/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Take a Stab At It, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Riley/Harmony
Notes: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.
Timeframe: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.

~*~ Oops We're in Trouble Again ~*~

Cordelia struggled against the bindings holding her to her chair. She hated this. She hated this almost more than she hated the lonely hours spent with her reflection on rainy summer afternoons in which she should be somewhere else. She'd tried communicating with Jonathan, but none of the three losers that had kidnapped her seemed to want to untie her or feed her. Or give her a drink. Or a tube of chapstick. Oh, she'd kill someone with one of her three-inch pumps for a tube of chapstick right then.
One of the losers--who had identified himself as Andrew--was particularly stupid and constantly referred to his accomplices by their names. She'd heard about this Warren guy who seemed to be the leader of their group from Angel, and Jonathan she knew from high school.
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Cordelia screamed through the things covering her mouth. Her thigh had cramped up viciously. "OWWWWWWW! OWWWWW! OWWWWWWW..."
One of them came over and nervously touched the knot in her thigh. "Does that hurt?"
"Bessipherrhts!" Cordelia snapped.
"...What?" her visitor asked.
"Andrew, you idiot, of course it hurts her!" that was Jonathan.
"Rahmafim! Rahmafim! Felphi!" Cordelia struggled against her bindings. "OWWwwwwwwwwwwwwww..."
"You dorkwads," Warren came over. "Don't just leave her mouth like that." Cordelia felt fingers on her face and growled. The only fingers she liked on her face were Angel's and hers. No other fingers allowed. "This'll hurt like a bitch for a little while." Cordelia felt the tape get ripped off her face and lips and yowled with pain. She felt the cloth gag fall from her mouth as well. "Now. How does it feel to be able to talk?"
"You are so gonna die!" Cordelia yelled at them. "You are going to die bloody, horrible deaths at the hands of William the Bloody and Angelus!"
The trio chuckled, half-nervous and half-haughty. "Spike's harmless," Warren laughed. "I checked his chip and it works fine."
"And Angelus doesn't exist anymore," Andrew added.
"Jonathan!" Cordelia snapped in her best Queen Cordelia voice. She heard him move but then he was stopped by Warren and/or Andrew. "Jonathan, I'm telling you right no-owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" A vision slammed Cordelia so hard the chair knocked over. It was the vision of the ugly demon again. This was urgent. A repeat vision. Not only did Spike become non-existant anymore, Buffy did so as well. "You have to untie me! Buffy's in trouble! And I have to go tell my boyfriend!" Cordelia got her side and dug at a piece of fraying rope with her fingernails. Buffy was important to Angel, as was Spike. If they died...again... "Jonathan! Untie me now!"
Jonathan stumbled past his buddies.
"Jonathan, if you untie her..." Warren trailed off threateningly.
"I don't care! You guys, Buffy will die if Cordelia doesn't tell Angel what she saw!" Jonathan cried. His conscience screamed at him to release Cordelia from her bindings, so he moved forward.
"Jonathan, we're super-villans. We're Buffy's arch-nemiseses...es...es," Andrew piped up.
"Don't take my word," Warren griped. "And Andrew's right. That's what I'm trying to tell you."
"I don't care. We're not really serious in taking over Sunnydale! We were just bored, Warren!" Cordelia felt the ropes holding her wrists together loosen and finally fall off, and shortly after her bandana fell away from her eyes. Jonathan moved down to the legs of the chair and furiously worked at the ropes with shaking fingers. "We didn't really want to kill her, not after she died! Have you forgotten how badly she can kick our asses, Warren?!" Cordelia's right foot was released. Jonathan moved back around to her left foot now. He was silent as he freed her foot. "I'll show you out, Cordelia."
"You won't be going anywhere," Warren held the black barrel of a hand gun aimed at Jonathan's head. "We're in this together, Jonathan. Remember? I told you, if you untied her..."
"Oh, up yours, Warren," Jonathan propelled Cordelia towards the stairs.
"Don't go any further, Jonathan, and bring Cordelia back, or I blow a nice neat hole the size of a quarter in your head," Warren threatened.
"I really don't give a damn. Go ahead, shoot me! But you can't shoot both of us. One of us, or both, will go to the police and turn you two in for what you've done," Jonathan bit back. It seemed a lot had happened and changed in Sunnydale over the past three years, Cordelia mused silently as she edged up the stairs.
"Warren, Warren," Andrew said nervously, like a four-year-old to its mother or father. "She's getting away..."
Warren whirled the gun on Cordelia. "Don't take another step."
Cordelia narrowed her eyes and snarled at the dork in all three of them. "Jonathan?"
"Yes ma'am?" Jonathan answered as Warren let the cocked hand gun fall to the ground.
Cordelia was about to speak again when the hand gun went off as it hit the floor. Cordelia dove behind the wall and flattened herself against it as Jonathan followed her up. The bullet ricocheted off of the mirror, spraying glass all over Warren and Andrew, but the bullet itself buried in Jonathan's shoulder blade.
"Oh god! Jonathan!" Cordelia scrambled to the boy clinging to the wall. She grabbed his uninjured arm and tugged him up the stairs as blood seeped into his shirt. "Jonathan, come on, you can make it."
Jonathan stumbled behind Cordelia, checking behind him every now and then. He could have sworn he heard Warren yell at Andrew to get something, but he was rapidly losing conciousness. Jonathan Levinson was a small man and therefore had a lesser amount of blood than say, Dawn. "Cor...Cord..." he panted. "Cordy..."
"What is it?" Cordelia asked impatiently, still dragging him.
Jonathan dragged up the last bit of strength holding him back from unconciousness and flung himself at Cordelia's legs. They both toppled over as a bullet whizzed by the place Cordelia had previously been standing.
"Shit," Cordelia muttered to herself. "That boy is psychotic!" she pulled her legs out from underneath Jonathan's heavy, limp body. "Jonathan? Jonathan, wake up." She shook him. Warren and Andrew were now visible at the doorway of the house they called headquarters. "Jonathan! Come on! Wake up dammit!" However, Jonathan just lie there. Cordelia looked up to the sky and muttered obscenities to the Powers That Be while hauling Jonathan up. She wished she had her cell phone so she could call someone. However, Warren and his lamb had taken it while she was tied up.
"Stop trying to run Cordelia," Warren said. "You have nowhere to go."
"Shut up Warren," Cordelia called back. She had managed to haul Jonathan into her arms and was now dragging him and his bloody clothes down the sidewalk. "You're going to rot in hell when Angel finds out about this."
"Andrew," Warren jerked his head as his kidnappee and ex-lackey were slowly being dragged away. "Stop her, you moron!"
Andrew sprinted after Cordelia and Jonathan, his legs making long, slow, excessively drawn out strides. It looked sort of like he was running in slow motion. Cordelia removed her shoes and held one of them in her hand.
"Come any closer and I swear to the PTB that I will beat you to unconciousness with my shoe."
That made Andrew pause.
Warren shot his pistol again. Or tried to. It just clicked a couple of times. Cordelia laughed heartily, or as heartily as one can running barefoot down the street with an unconcious man over her shoulder and a high heeled shoe in one hand. Warren started to run after her now, and--damn, he was fast! Cordelia threw her shoe at Warren and managed to have it land on his stomach. He stopped and clutched at his stomach, watching Cordelia run. "Andrew, go!"
Andrew nodded and took off again.

Warren and Andrew had at least had enough consideration to pretend like Jonathan had been taken down by a driveby shooting in the bad part of town and taken him to a neighbor. Warren had stayed to fill out necessary papers after the neighbor had called emergency, and sent Andrew with the shoeless Cordelia back to their headquarters to be tied up once again. As soon as Warren could slip out unnoticed, he would return. Until then, Andrew was to put her chair in the center of the room and busy himself with something.
"Andrew, please. Just let me call Angel. A lot of people could die because you wouldn't let me tell Angel that people are in trouble!" Cordelia pleaded.
Andrew looked at Cordelia. "I-I'm not supposed to let you do anything..."
"I know. But do you want the deaths of ten people on your shoulders?" Cordelia stared at him with the saddest eyes.
Andrew almost crumpled then. "But I'm an arch-nemises!"
"But you have a concience," she told him. "Please...let me call Angel. Hey, you don't have to untie me even. I'll tell you Angel's phone number and you just have to hold the phone to my head."
He blinked and considered it. "Your predictions come true?"
"If Angel doesn't stop them," Cordelia nodded.
"O-okay...but don't tell Warren I let you do this!" he said. "What's the phone number?"
Cordelia told him Angel's cell phone number and made a mental note to have Angel change the number as soon as he busted in all rogue superhero like. Andrew held the phone to Cordelia's ear.
:Hello,: came the answer after five rings.
"Hey you," Cordelia said.
:Cordy!:
"Yeah. Um, is Buffy out patrolling?"
:Yeah...why?:
"She's in danger. If Spike's with her, she's in a lot of trouble. She'll die."
:Damn! Where is she?:
"The usual spot."
:Dammit. Where are you?:
"Warren and Andrew's secret lair! It's the hellhound house where Tu--" Andrew slammed down the phone. "You bastard."
"I can't let you tell them where you are."
"Too late. Angel knows where I am."

"That was Cordelia!" Angel grabbed his jacket from the table. He had come to the Magic Box to hang out with the group while Buffy and Spike went out to slay night nasties. "Dammit. Buffy's in trouble," he ran from the Magic Box to his car. He fumbled with his cell phone in one hand while igniting the convertible into moving. His cell phone beeped a few times and wished that he had thought to bring Willow with him in case his phone rang again. His cell phone began to ring again as he sped down the street.
"Come on, turn on, turn on!" he pushed random buttons, trying to answer the phone. It stopped ringing and Angel let loose an impressive string of curses. The voicemail icon and ring sounded a moment later.
Great.
His tires squealed as he skidded into a parking spot at the cemetery where he had last seen Cordelia. He figured that she was referring to Spike's stomping grounds as the "usual place". He just hoped he wasn't too late. Angel jumped over his door and hit the lock button, running down the path. He leaped and cleared a bush and headed towards Spike's crypt until he heard the sounds of battle. He heard Buffy grunt. Then he heard Spike yell, "Bloody hell!". Not a lot of time then.
Angel wheeled around and took off towards the fighting noises. He hurled himself into the clearing, rolling into a somersault and standing just before hitting a headstone. There was the demon.
Momentarily distracted by Angel's arrival, Spike took his attention away from the three arms the demon waved viciously. It smacked Spike in stomach, resulting in the blond vampire folding his arms over the injury.
Everything slowed down.
Angel ran and jumped, placing his hands on the younger vampire's shoulders and pushing as hard as he could. Spike took a violent, twisting turn in the air and landed stomach first on one of the headstones while Angel used the leverage from Spike to turn himself around and drop to the ground. Buffy, meanwhile, had managed to stab a couple of the demon's eyes and outrun it for the moment. Everything resumed its normal pace, with Spike moaning over the grave and Buffy and Angel combatting the demon.
Unfortunately, Angel had been so consumed with getting to the scene in time to save Spike that he had forgotten to grab any weapons out of his convertible's trunk. He glanced at Spike and searched for the reckless vampire's weapon, finding none. So fists and fangs it was.
"Angel!" Spike yelled. Well, groaned really loudly.
"What is it?" Angel yelled back, grabbing one of the demon's arms and twisting it with all his might. It snapped audibly and the demon roared. Slime began to ooze from the shoulder.
"Here," Spike kicked a sword at Angel, hoping it wouldn't stab the man in the foot.
Angel scooped down and picked it up, not missing a beat, as he went for what appeared to be the demon's legs. Buffy still worked at making the demon blind. So far she'd managed to stab out five of its twelve eyes.
"This," Buffy grunted, jumping back to avoid a wildly swinging arm, "sucks!" She thrust the sword she carried forward into another of its eyes. Half down. "Hey, I guess it's Cyclops now."
"Buffy, watch it's bloody arms!" Spike yelled, followed by a loud grunt. He gripped the headstone he now sat against.
Buffy glanced at its arms, just in time to have her sword knocked from her hands. Angel swung and chopped off the hand that would have crushed her as she retrieved her sword. "Any idea how to make this thing lie in a dead way?" Buffy asked Angel, expertly kicking the handless arm away from her and sending it spinning.
"I'm thinking decapitating works!" Angel answered, doing as he said.
The demon roared and stood.
"Well, damn, Angel. I think that didn't work."

"All I'm saying is maybe we should give him a chance," Anya said, cleaning the counter with a rag. "We should invite everyone, actually. Angel, Cordelia, and all of their acquaintances. We're inviting Spike as well, and that's that."
"We aren't inviting that brain-cell lacking dead head, Anya. Do you have any idea how much trouble that would cause at the wedding? We already have enough demons with your guests anyway," Xander answered, making out a shift chart for the following day at the construction site.
"Are you saying there's something wrong with my friends?" Anya asked incredulously.
"Aside from the fact they're demons? No," Xander shrugged.
Anya huffed. "That's extremely biggotted of you to say that, Alexander Harris."
"I just don't want any trouble at the wedding. I don't know how I'm going to explain to my parents why a bunch of demons are attending my wedding," Xander said exasperatedly.
"Well you don't have to be so rude about it!" Anya pouted.
"An..." Xander sighed. "Look, you can invite anyone you want too--just not Spike."
"And why not? He's done nothing to us in the past year!" she protested.
"Why is everyone forgetting about what he's done to the original gang?! First he brainwashed Buffy and Dawn, then Angel and Cordelia and all of the others, now he's gotten to you, and probably Willow and Tara!" Xander stood up roughly, knocking over his chair and grabbing his things. "Don't any of you, any of you come crawling to me when one of you turn up dead!"
That's when he stormed out of the Magic Box.
Anya ran out after him. "Don't you dare come home, Xander! Don't you dare until you can learn some forgiveness!"
She stomped back in as Xander's car left the Magic Box parking lot. "Oh...I...don't have a ride..." Anya took a deep breath and fought back tears as she dialed Tara's phone number. "Tara? Hello...it's Anya. Um...Xander...Xander and I...I need someone to transport me to my apartment..."

In the end, the demon lay dead by one of the headstones and was slowly disappearing. Buffy had had the right idea with poking out all of its eyes. Angel made it a tad easier on the by decapitating the demon, but they still had to combat the enraged thing. By the time Angel had managed to stab the last eye blind, Buffy had a rather nasty looking cut on her arm and was limping.
Buffy limped over to Spike. "Spike?"
"I broke a couple of ribs, love," he murmured, sitting stock still. "Thanks to the Poofter."
"Hey, it was either that or die," Angel answered. "Cordy had a vision--"
"You found Cordelia?" Buffy interrupted, trying to help Spike to his feet without hurting him.
"You're hurt," Spike grunted, waving her away and using the headstone to help steady himself until Angel reached out and held him in place.
"It's nothing. It just looks bad," Buffy argued.
"Your crypt is near here, right, Spike?" Angel asked. Spike grunted and nodded his head slightly. "I'll help you to your crypt, and get Buffy wrapped up, and then I'm going to go get Cordy back."
"Why didn't you tell Xander or Willow or Tara to go get her?" Buffy wondered, sliding her uninjured arm underneath Spike's arms and across his back.
"I didn't have time," Angel slid his arm underneath Spike's arms and across his back as well, and the Slayer and Champion helped the injured paradox to his crypt. "You have a first aid kit, Spike?"
"I know where it is," Buffy nodded and went to retrieve the first aid kit.
"Bloody hell," Spike muttered through clenched teeth. He had broken four ribs in landing on the headstone, if not more, and it hurt like a bitch. "Bloody hell," he had been laid on the top of his sarccophagus. So now he banged his head lightly on the stone to try and get his attention off of his ribs. That was also when his game face appeared, taking too much energy to keep his human visage in place. He muttered more curses, trying to make himself feel better.
Angel quickly wrapped up Buffy's arm and wrapped an Ace bandage around her sore knee. "I hate to leave so quickly, Buffy, Spike, but I really need to go rescue my gir--" he stopped himself. "My employee."
Buffy looked at him strangely. "All right. Rescue Cordelia."
"Poof," Spike grunted.
Angel paused, "Yes?"
"Kick the blokes who took her's asses for me, all right?" Spike asked.
Angel nodded, "I will." And he left.
Buffy stared at Spike and his wounds. "What happened? And what do you do about broken ribs?"

"Warren!" Andrew cried as soon as his beloved leader entered the house Tucker had used to store his hellhounds. "Warren! W-we've gotta go! We've gotta move! Jonathan, h-he'll tell the police, a-and Angel knows where we are!"
Warren groaned. "How in the name of the Hellmouth did that happen?"
"Uh...erm...uh..." Andrew stuttered.
Cordelia narrowed her eyes. She didn't really care if Andrew got in trouble with their leader, so long as she stayed alive. "Andrew let me call Angel. I told him where you were."
Warren looked at her with a disbelieving expression that mingled with fear and anger. "Andrew, how'd you let this happen?"
"Well...s-she said lots and lots of people were going to die if I didn't let her tell Angel about her vision," Andrew gave his best subdued apologetic look to Warren.
Warren rolled his eyes. He released Cordelia from her bindings to the chair and tied her hands behind her back. "Come on, captive. We're moving ship. Leave the things here, Andrew--except, grab The Book. And Sparky's bone."
"Can we bring the Fett?" Andrew asked, holding up the Boba Fett figurine Spike had threatened to decapitate some time earlier.
"Bring the damn doll," Warren snapped, shoving Cordelia forward and up the stairs. "Move it, Barbie."
"Excuse you," Cordelia said irritatedly. "My name is Cordelia, not Barbie."
"Shut up and move," Warren replied. "Andrew, come on!"
Andrew scurried after them. Warren opened the back of the van and shoved Cordelia in, who dragged Andrew in behind her. Warren jumped into the driver's seat of the van, backed out of the driveway, and sped off down the road the opposite way Angel's convertible barreled down the road. Angel hardly took the time to park correctly--just slammed on the brakes, put the parking brake in effect, and jumped out of the car, running as fast as he could into Tucker's former house and down to the basement. All that greeted him were monitors, a dry erase board, and the things that Andrew and Warren had left behind.
"Damn," Angel muttered angrily. He marched over to the monitors and punched random keys on the control panel, eventually finding one that switched all of the cameras off. After that he took the heaviest thing he could lift in the basement and smashed the control panel to little more than snapped wires. He sighed and realized that while Angelus was having a grand time buried somewhere beneath his soul, Angel wasn't making things better. Quite frankly though, he didn't know if he could go another hour without holding her in his arms. As it was, he missed his son terribly already, but he had at least had Cordelia. But now some nerds had kidnapped her and wouldn't give her back.
So Angel trudged up the stairs and out of the house. He would go back to the Magic Box and alert everyone that a demon hadn't captured Cordelia, rather, the trio of geeks that had turned Buffy invisible did. That is, if the gang was still at the Magic Box. Buffy was with Spike still, he hoped, and Anya, Xander, Willow, and Tara should still be at the Magic Box, unless a couple of them decided to go home because it was nearing three a.m. Angel dejectedly sat in the driver's seat of his convertible and grabbed at the last vestiges of emotionally strength, jamming his keys into the ignition and starting the car, and finally driving off.

The Magic Box was locked when Angel got there. No cars sat in the parking lot. Had they totally just, forgotten about him? Well, he would go to Cordelia's hotel room, the one she shared with him, and call people from there. Maybe he would be able to get ahold of Willow or Tara and tel them that the mission had failed. That he had spoken to Cordelia, found out where she was, and had failed to rescue her. It weighed heavily on the vampire's soul.
He parked in the hotel lot and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, down to room 412. Angel's body was getting agitated, and his mind went into a different mindset as he realized he needed to feed. Maybe that would boost some of his morale and make his outlook go to a bit more optimistic. Maybe if he told Willow what happened with Operation: Rescue Cordelia after feeding and then called Angel Investigations he would feel better knowing that Holtz had been staved off by Angel's sudden disappearance.
So, Angel got to work.