Title: Sun and Shadow
Section: Los Angeles II
Part: 12/Gray Skies
Author: Arsahi
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedonvand Mutant Enemy. Angel the Series belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy. "Nothing but You" belongs to Kim Ferron (and I know it was used in "When She Was Bad", the season two priemere...). "Mr. Jones" belongs to the Counting Crows.
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: R for language and drowning of the sorrows in alcohol.
Notes: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.
Timeframe: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.

~*~ Gray Skies ~*~

"Hey...um...you...the girl with the glasses...brown hair...hey, you!"
Fred looked up from the desk she sat sorting through invoices at and blinked at the captive. "My name's Fred, thank you."
"I understand that you all don't really like me or really even tolerate me that much, and I know why you have me chained here, but...could you please unshackle my legs so I can stand for a minute? Or even sit? Because my legs are getting really tired. I promise I won't try to run."
Fred frowned. "I don't know if I should...I mean...I don't know you or anything but Wesley made it pretty clear that you weren't supposed to be let loose, and he's my boss..."
"Wow. Wes really climbed the industrial ladder...but anyway. Listen, I'm a reformed girl, and I promise I won't hurt you, Fred. It's my own comfort I'm ambling at right now."
Fred pursed her lips and nodded. "All right. I'll let you sit. Do you want a chair? Or do you want to sit on the floor?"
"That ground looks kind of uncomfortable...if it's not too much trouble to bring me a kitchen chair or something like that, I'd really appreciate it."
"Okay," Fred smiled. "Don't try to go anywhere now. I'll be right back." She rose and left the room. Their captive tugged at the chains attached to the ceiling and floor and sighed when all they did was jangle loudly. Their captive wasn't trying to flee, simply see if they needed heavier chains to keep her down. Apparently they used the ones Angelus used. Fred returned then, toting a chair. "All right. I'm gonna trust you, okay? I'll unshackle you, and then you sit in the chair and I'll put you back together."
"Sounds good to me."
Fred unlocked the chains and released the captive, setting the chair against the wall. The captive stood there congenially until Fred said it was okay to sit down. Then the captive sat and waited for the shackles to come back on.
"Thanks. My legs aren't so tired now."
"No problem," Fred smiled and sat back down at her desk. "Wesley said he'll be calling Angel anytime soon to let him know you've come here, to ask Angel what we should do about--"
"Bloody hell! It's you!" cried an incredulous, Cockney-twanged British voice.
"And...you," the captive answered.
"Faith?" Cordelia asked, her eyes wide.
"Hey! Cordelia! What's up?" Faith grinned.
Cordelia backed away, staring at the brunette Slayer aghastly. She wrapped her arms around one of Angel's, not scared, but wary, and feeling better standing next to him.
"What's with the clinging? Look, I'm not gonna hurt any of you, if you'd like to let me go sometime soon..." Faith trailed off.
"We'll be doing no such thing."
Everyone wheeled to face Wesley.
"Angel, Cordelia, welcome back," he glanced at Spike. "Hello, Spike."
"Hey Pryce," Spike nodded.
"Hi Wesley," Fred said.
Wesley smiled at Fred and nodded. "As I was saying, Faith came to us in the middle of business hours last night. She came to us, claiming she had been let out of jail 'on account of good behavior' and was currently on parole."
"I am," Faith sighed. "I've changed, you guys. No more stake-happy Slayer."
"I gotta get out of here," Spike muttered, shrugging his duster on and leaving the room in a flurry of leather.
"What's with him?" Faith frowned. "What did I say?"
"It's a long story," Angel sighed. "What are you doing here, Faith?"
"If you would kindly unchain me, I'd feel more inclined to tell you. I feel like I'm on trial," Faith stood up and jangled her chains. "Come on, you guys. Thing's will all be five-by-five..."
Wesley frowned. "How did she get a chair? And enough slack to sit?"
"Fred let me. She trusts me," Faith smirked.
Wesley flinched and looked at Fred accusingly. "You what?"
"Well...she...her legs were tired, Wesley, and, and, I'd rather our captive be comfortable rather than pissed off at us," Fred told him.
Gunn intervened then, seeing the rapidly intensifying anger on Wesley's face. "Lay off, English."
Wesley rolled his eyes. "Fine."
"Um, Wes, my wrists are turning red, and I'm pretty sure my ankles have already gotten there. Would you mind unchaining me? Or, Fred! Fred, you're cool, you're down with me, would you mind releasing me?" Faith asked, shifting from foot to foot.
Fred walked over to the chains, Wesley trying to follow her but Gunn holding him back. "Sorry, man, can't let you do that."
Wesley narrowed his eyes. Angel chose that moment to break up a potential fight. "To your corners, guys."
Gunn walked over to Fred and helped Faith out of her bindings. "Thanks. I really appreciate what you're both doing for me."
"No problem," Fred smiled.
Faith looked up and flinched at the pair of bespectacled eyes glaring at her. Wesley really didn't like her...

***


"Damn Slayer," Spike murmured. He had already rushed so far from the Hyperion and he didn't even realize it. He looked up, coming face-to-face with Caritas. Lorne had rebuilt it, finally, since he had left with Cordelia and Angel. Not too long, but considering all the strings the empathic demon could pull...
Spike stood at the threshold, trying to decide whether or not he should descend into the club. With a sudden twirl, Spike stalked away from the club. His duster felt heavy on his shoulders. He already missed Buffy. He wished he hadn't left on such a bad note.

I think I'll go for a walk
Maybe out in the rain


One of Spike's groupies from Y Seres saw him and tried to approach him. "Hey Spike--"
"Sod off," he muttered, pushing past said groupie.
The groupie stared at him as he walked off.

Maybe let the tears roll down my face
And not feel the pain


The sky rumbled and suddenly burst, drenching Spike and his leather duster in water. Not to mention a tingly feeling began in his stomach. Sunrise was almost here. Spike parked himself on a bench on the perimeter of a playground.
Maybe it would lightning. That would be nice.
Spike shoved back the sleeve on his duster and wiped his long grey sleeve across his eyes. He wasn't crying. No, not Spike. He'd never cry. It was just the rain.

Maybe think about something
Maybe think about you
Yeah, you can't hurt me now


Someone held an umbrella over his head. Spike blinked and looked up, wiping his eyes again and looking at the umbrella-holder.
"Riley?"
Riley nodded. He had gotten a rather good-looking haircut the week or two Spike had been gone. "Come on, Spike. Let's go back to the hotel."
Spike frowned. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to save your ass from being fried," Riley answered.
Spike's frown deepened. "Why?"

You know you can't hurt me now
You can't hold me down


"I did some thinking while you were gone," Riley said. He sat next to Spike, holding the umbrella over both of them. "I know you love Buffy. I questioned it when I was still in Sunnydale. I questioned how a vampire could love, with or without a soul. Then I remembered the stories I had heard about how much you worshipped the ground Drusilla walked on. So I said, 'Okay. He loves her. But there's no way Buffy could ever love him.' Then I watched how Angel acted around Cordelia, that Valentine's Day, and how Cordelia acted around him. I realized people can love vampires. People with souls, they can look past the bad of vampires and see the not-so-bad. I realized that from Harmony as well. She loves me."
Spike shook his head. "So what are you saying?"
"Well...I figure that if you're back here again, she rejected you. I know how it is, Spike. How it feels to love her so much, and then...she's just outside your grasp. Always. The only one who ever kept her was Angel," Riley sighed. "I guess I'm symapthizing with you."

And I got plenty of time
Time to figure it out
Time to think about you and me
Whatever that was all about
I got nothing to prove
I've got nothing to say
No, I guess I never thought you were good for me anyway
Got nothing to lose...
Nothing but you


"You poor sod," Spike told Riley. He didn't want to make friends with Riley. Temporary truces were one thing. But heart-to-hearts? No.
Riley blinked cluelessly at Spike. "What's up?"
"Look. Me 'n' a nice bottle of Jack Daniels have an appointment that I have to keep. And let's get one thing straight, Captain Cardboard," Spike grabbed the collar of Riley's shirt. "I am not your mate. I am not your pal. We do not have to heart-to-bloody-hearts. We do not have anything in common, thank god, and I do not fancy hangin' out with you. Do I make myself clear?"
Riley nodded.
"Good."
Spike released him and stormed off, the tingly feeling he felt earlier growing stronger. He would just go to Y Seres and make himself feel better.

Riley walked into the hotel, shaking the umbrella a few times outside the door, and then setting it against the wall. "Hey everyone, I'm back."
Cordelia came down the stairs and looked at him. "Oh, hey Riley. Did you have any luck finding him? Or, rather, did you have any luck speaking to him?"
Riley shook his head. "I found him, and I took the no-violence approach. He didn't feel the same courtesy towards me. He basically told me he hates me, he doesn't want to speak to me again, and he was off to go get drunk."
Angel came down the stairs behind Cordelia. "Any luck?"
"No, he said Spike told him he hates him and he was going to go get drunk," Cordelia answered for Riley.
"Sunrise is almost here," Angel frowned. He wrapped an arm around Cordelia's waist. "It's almost sunrise, and he's going to go get drunk? Brilliant move, Riley. You let him walk off?"
"It's not like I'm as strong as he is, Angel," Riley told him.
"I'll go see if I can find him," Cordelia sighed. She started to move, but Angel tightened his arm around her waist. "Angel!"
"Let's ask Fred. She's his best friend," Angel told her. "Riley, go see if you can find Fred. She's probably still with Faith."
Riley rolled his eyes, "What am I, dog guy?"
"Fetch, Sparky."
Riley glared and turned, marching up the stairs the opposite direction. Wesley peered out of his office. "The verdict on keeping Faith here, Angel?"
"Let her stay until she gives us reason to distrust her. Fred seems to trust her, as does Gunn. I know we all have our qualms with her, but we set those aside for Riley, Harmony, and Spike, didn't we?" Angel pointed out.
"Yeah, but none of them tortured Wes in effort to get you to kill them," Cordelia argued.
"Spike locked you in a broom closet. With Willow," Angel raised his eyebrows at her. "Harmony tried to kill you."
"Point made," Cordelia removed his arm, kissed him, and went off into the kitchen.
"What's the real reason you're letting me stay, Angel?" Faith asked from the top of the stairs. She had heard the entire conversation.
"Aside from the art of forgiveness and an anchored soul? The obvious reasons. You'll be a great addition to the team. I just hope that you can get along with everyone," Angel replied. "You've made friends with Fred and Gunn, right?" Faith nodded. "What about Riley and Harmony?" Faith shrugged. "Lorne?"
"Would that be the scaly singing green guy?" she asked. "He left."
"Caritas reopened," Wesley added. Angel's "art of forgiveness" sentence had inspired him to do the same.
"Great," Angel nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I hear Connor crying."
"Connor's crying?" Faith wondered as Angel breezed past her.
"Vampiric hearing," Wesley replied, turning into the office.
Faith descended the stairs and stood at the counter. "I was right there, at the top of the stairs. I didn't hear it."
"Pity," Wesley murmured. He flipped through a stack of papers. "There's a book out there somewhere. It's a leather-bound first edition with no title."
"Is that a hint, Wes?" Faith hoisted herself up on the counter and looked for it there before heading over to the seats in the center of the lobby.
"If hints are blatant requests," Wesley opened a book inside the office.
"So why are you being nicey-nice to me now?" Faith plopped the book on the desk. She kneeled and crossed her arms on the edge of the surface, resting her chin on her arms. She arched an eyebrow.
"If Angel wants you here, who am I to argue?" Wesley replied. He opened the book Faith retrieved for him and looked through a few pages.
"Yeah, but you hate me," Faith said suspiciously.
"Indeed I do," he agreed.
"Which brings me back to my first question," Faith placed her hands on the open pages. Wesley looked up at her. "What's with the sudden nice-ness? Are you being a martyr or something? 'Cause that's Angel's job."
Wesley narrowed his eyes and attempted to knock her hands away from the pages. However, Faith employed her Slayer strength and planted her hands firmly in place. Wesley sighed dramatically and rose, going to the shelves. "Do you mind? I have a case to work on."
"And I have a serious case of the wiggins. Solve mine. Then I'll let you get back to work," Faith told him. She walked over to him and stood just behind him. Wesley turned and faced her.
"Angel said the reasons he's letting you stay here are the art of forgiveness, an anchored soul, and the fact that you're a Slayer. They all apply to myself as well, aside from the letting you stay. If it were up to me, I'd have you stay at another hotel. However, to achieve a balance in the work place, I am going to work at forgiving you for what you have done," Wesley explained.
"Are all you Watchers such wordy people? You could have just said, 'hakuna matata'," Faith grinned.
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "'Hakuna matata'?"
"You never saw The Lion King?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Well, damn, Wesley."

***


I was down at the New Amsterdam
Starin' at this yellow-haired girl
Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation
With this black-haired Flamenco dancer


Spike mulled over his tall glass of beer. He had six other empty glasses just as tall scattered around the counter. The entertainment this morning was some local band. Or, had been, because at the moment they were packing up. Just a handful of people loitered around the warehouse.
"Spike," Andy said, just coming on shift that morning. "Where have you been?"
"Sunny-sodding-hell," he muttered darkly.
"I take it she didn't accept you," Andy collected two of the six glasses and set them in the basin to be taken to the washroom.
"She did," he said. "Then she did the bloody Mexican Hat Dance on me and everything I feel."

She dances while his father plays guitar
She's suddenly beautiful
We all want something beautiful
I wish I was beautiful


"Did you tell her that?" Andy asked, watching Spike chug down the entire glass.
"Gimme another, mate. Coors, Budweiser, Corona, whatever," he said. "I tried. I don' think I go' through t' her this time. Or the las' time. If she would just let 'erself feel, instead of thinkin' all the time..."
"I hate to say it, Spike," Andy set another tall glass of beer in front of the blond vampire, "but maybe that's what she had been doing. Letting herself feel, instead of thinking. Then she started thinking."
"She should listen t' her heart. She'd be bloody amazed at what she'd hear," he answered.

So come dance this silence
Down through the morning
Cut up, Maria!
Show me some of them Spanish dances
Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones


"You said she was involved in a serious relationship before?" Andy asked.
"One, when she was sixteen, seventeen, eighteen-ish. Shagged Angel, Angel lost his soul, I helped avert the apocalypse. I mean, bloody hell, Andy--I helped save her life on more 'n one occasion," Spike said heatedly. Then his face lost all color it had gained from the alcohol. "Oh...oh bloody hell..."
Andy frowned. "What's a matter?"
"She mus' hold it against me that I didn't save 'er last year," he whispered. He grabbed the glass in front of him, chugged it, and grabbed one of the bottles behind the counter. He ripped the spout off of it and swallowed it all down.

Believe in me
Help me believe in anything
I want to be someone
Who believes


"I don't think that's it," Andy reassured. "It wasn't your fault."
"Yeah, bu' you don' understan' the way Buffy thinks. It also isn't my fault that I'm a vampire. I mean, if...if she would jus'..." Spike calmed down. "I...I don' feel so good...gimme somethin', Andy."
Andy held a cup under the water faucet, filled it up, and set it in front of Spike. "There ya go."
Spike took a sip of it and spit it out. "Wha' the bleedin' hell is that?"
"It's water," Andy rolled his eyes. "It'll make you feel better."

Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales
Stare at the beautiful women
"She's looking at you.
Ah, no, no, she's looking at me."


"No, gimme somethin' else. With alcohol," Spike knocked the glass aside.
Andy shook his head, "I don't think you should have any more, Spike. You're pretty out of it."
"I don' care. Wha' the hell do you think'll happen to me? I'll die? Pass out, maybe, but it ain't gonna hurt me, mate," Spike dropped his duster on the floor next to his stool.
Andy shrugged, "It's your unlife." He handed him another beer.
"Exactly."

Smiling in the bright lights
Coming through in stereo
When everybody loves you
You can never be lonely


Fred hurried down the sidewalk, umbrella over her head, Gunn's jacket around her. It smelled like him. Not that she smelled the jacket or anything.
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and luckily next to no one was on the cement path. Still, she took precautions because of the gutters running water from the roof to the sidewalk and onto the road. Plus, it was still raining cats and dogs. Which was enough reason to be cautious as any. She was on her way to Y Seres.
"Spike," Fred muttered. She had never seen the man happy. He was always miserable and lacking any spark of happiness, unless he was around Connor. The baby always seemed to bring out the best in people, vampires or no. Harmony was the same way. "Spike, you better not have stumbled out of Y Seres...I know Andy wouldn't let you."
Then, Fred stood outside Y Seres.

I will paint my picture
Paint myself in blue and red and black and gray
All of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful
Gray is my favorite color
I felt so symbolic yesterday


Spike was more than a bit tipsy, needless to say. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew, logically, that the real pain wouldn't come until tomorrow, or the day after. That's when the homesickness would set in, and his longing to hold the blond Slayer in his arms would magnify ten times. "Do you have a bird, Andy?"
"No," Andy shook his head. He watched as Spike lit a cigarette and took a deep mock-breath of it. He slowly let it out. "Why?"
"Have you ever loved one so much it literally made you hurt to be around her?" Spike took another deep breath of his cigarette, calming his nerves even more. He took a gulp of the beer Andy had given him.
"Not that much," he answered. "I don't think I have."
"I've loved exactly three," Spike held up four fingers, "women. Cecily in London, Drusilla for one hundred years, and, and I still love Buffy."
Andy nodded. He looked up at the door, mentally hoping that one of the Angel Investigations members would walk through the door and take the hammered Spike to the Hyperion.
That was the moment Fred walked in. "Spike!"
Spike looked up sluggishly. He smiled. "Hey Fred."
Fred ran over, dropping her umbrella on the floor and hugging him. "You're all right."
"Not in a literal sense," he murmured, wrapping the arm not occupied with holding him up straight on the counter around her.
Fred released him. "Come on. Cordelia's waiting in her Jeep around the corner. Let's go back to the Hyperion, Wesley has some Scotch there."
"Love," Spike still had his arm around her waist.
"What is it, Spike?" Fred raised her eyebrows.
"I can't get up," he said quietly.
Fred sighed and shook her head, sliding one arm under his arm and helping him almost fall from the chair. "Can you walk? Or stand."
"Maybe...if the room wouldn't bloody spin..." Spike clung to the side of the counter as Fred scooped down to pick up Spike's duster. She shrugged it on over Gunn's jacket. "Hey...you look cute in that, pet."
Fred blushed. "Hush. Come on." She hooked the umbrella over her elbow, sliding her arm back underneath his and holding the hand of the arm draped across her shoulders. "You've got me. Let's take it one step at a time. First your right foot--"
"I'm left-handed, love," he muttered. He lifted his left foot and fell down on it, then did the same with his right foot, lurching forward with Fred's help until they reached the door.
Fred had him lean against the door frame as she pulled out a blanket and draped it over him. "Come on, Blondie," she helped him out the door and into Cordelia's Jeep, which was parked right outside. The moment he collapsed across the backseats, he fell asleep. Or unconcious. Fred couldn't tell. "Let's go, Cordy. Maybe we can all get some sleep..."

"We really should be doing something else," Cordelia murmured between kisses.
"I know," Angel answered. "But...I can't seem to keep my hands..."
"And lips..." Cordelia added.
"And lips off of you," he finished, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you were kidnapped...kinda brings out Protective Boyfriend Guy in me..."
"Mm...think I like Protective Boyfriend Guy..." she replied. Angel pinned her against the wall, kissing her deeply.
They sprang apart when the front door slammed.

"Great, just great," Spike muttered as Holtz walked in, Justine slightly behind him and to the right. "What do you want?"
"Angelus," Holtz stated simply.
"We're his dogs. Would you like us instead?" Spike retorted.
"Spike," Fred hissed, hitting him on the arm.
"No, Angelus will suffice. However, Connor would do just as well," Holtz replied smoothly, unruffled by Spike's sarcasm.
"Well, sorry. He's in the sack right now," Spike shrugged. "We can take a message and have him call you back when it's convenient for him."
Holtz stared at Spike evenly. "Do you know who I am, Spike?"
"My guess would be Danielle Holtz," Spike answered.
Justine started to leap forward but stopped when Holtz raised his arm. "Daniel. Not Danielle."
"My mistake, mate. You just look so bloody feminine I thought perhaps you'd changed your name," Spike said evenly.
"Retrieve Angelus or Connor, and I will leave," Holtz told him.
Spike tilted his head back. "Riley, go get Angel. Faith, go with him, stay with Cordelia."
The pair took off to go do their assigned jobs, knowing Spike, even in his inebriated state, knew what was going on and what would happen if all the bases weren't covered. Angelus had raised a fine tactician. "Angelus will be with you in a moment," Spike smirked.
They stood silently until Angel came down the stairs, Riley following. "Holtz," Angel blinked. "Come so soon?"
"What can I say, Angelus, I was just too anxious to see you," Holtz said dryly. "May we speak in private? My associate will stay out here, your associates will stay out here."
"Um...yeah," Angel agreed when Spike advised him to do so from across the room. "We can go in my...Wesley's office," Angel pointed. The group parted like the Red Sea when he did so. Holtz nodded to Justine and followed the path into the office. Angel hurried after him. He stopped when he arrived at Spike. "Maybe you should sit down for a bit," he whispered, then followed Holtz into Wesley's office.
Spike lurched forward then, hearing combat sounds up in Connor and Angel's room. There was no way he could keep an eye on Justine and go help Faith and Cordelia at the same time when he was sober, much less intoxicated.
"Spike?" Fred asked.
He looked at Fred, then at the rest of the group, and at Justine. "Riley, Wesley, Harm, Fred, stay here. Gunn, you come with me." He started towards the stairs, pausing as he passed Justine to say, "You make one wrong move, and none of those four will hesitate to kill you." Justine flinched and Spike smirked, following Gunn up the stairs. "Angel and Connor's room. They've ambushed us."
"Damn," Gunn cursed, jumping the last three steps at the top of the staircase, running to Angel's room. "Are you..." he almost asked if Spike was certain but heard Cordelia yell for help. The two males burst into the room, finding the girls outnumbered four to one.
"Spike! The baby!" Cordelia yelled, planting her foot firmly into one of the four attacking her's stomach. She ducked under a punch. "Gunn! Help!"
Faith was holding her own, but barely. Spike barrelled forward, tackling one of them, then looking to Connor's crib.
Empty.
"Fuck! Which of you wankers has Connor?!" Spike grabbed the nearest one of Holtz's arm and slamming them into the wall. "Dammit, which of you has him?!"
The poor fighter was being strangled by Spike. He sputtered out something to the effect of "underground" before turning an ugly shade of blue and falling limp in Spike's hand. Spike threw him down, and grabbed one of the army members fighting Cordelia and shook her. "Where is Connor?!"
"Abort!" the fighter cried. The remaining six members of the army leapt out of the window.
Spike threw the fighter to the ground and leapt out of the window after them.
"Spike! The sun!" Faith yelled, running over to the window. She looked out and watched him run away. "Oh damn...who's gonna tell Angel what happened?"
Gunn and Cordelia said, "You."
"Me?! Why me?!" Faith demanded. "You should tell him, Queen C! I mean, you're his girlfriend!"
"He'll blame whoever tells him," Gunn answered.
"Oh, aren't you guys nice," Faith muttered grumpily.
"No, he won't blame whoever tells him. He'll just go rushing off," Cordelia sighed. "Well, we'd better go back downstairs..."

Angel watched Holtz and Justine leave, noticing the rain was letting up a bit now. He felt their conversation had gone well. Angel had made it clear that if Holtz ever came after his son again, he would personally disembowel the preserved man and use his stomach as a purse. Holtz had promised to only come after him then. Angel was satisfied with that.
"Spike," he said as he turned around. He found only half of his team there. "...Where's Spike? And Cordelia? And Gunn and Faith?"
Harmony pointed behind him, "Over there. Except, there's no Spike."
Angel turned back around. He saw the highly subdued faces the three wore, and watched as Faith and Gunn looked away from him. Cordelia's face crumpled as her eyes welled up with tears, and Angel's heart twisted. "Oh, Angel, I'm so sorry," she told him quietly, hugging him.
"What happened?" he held her at arms length.
"Our buddy Holtz ambushed us," Gunn said. "We were outnumbered by too many, and one of them took Connor."
Angel clenched his jaw. "Where's Spike."
The three pointed outside.
Angel closed his eyes and looked down. "He's not going to come back then..."
"Unless he manages to get in the sewer system and get to Holtz's lair," Riley said. "I think he still remembers."
"Do you know where it is, Riley?" Angel asked quickly.
Riley shook his head. "Nope."
"Some help you are," Angel muttered angrily.
"Angel, you can't do anything right now," Wesley pointed out. "The sun's up, and it's stopped raining. The only thing you can do is hope that Spike or one of us finds Holtz and the kidnapper."
Faith scanned the crowd. "I've got an idea. Why don't we all split up and go out in a search party? Angel and Cordelia can stay here, Fred and Gunn, Riley and Harmony, and...Wes, you and I can pair up."
"That's a good idea," Fred agreed. "Come on, Charles," she took his hand and headed out the front door.
"Wait," Wesley called. The two stopped and peered back in. "Go north."
Fred nodded, "Okay. North," and left again.
"Riley and Harmony, you two go south," Faith commanded. The pair left. "Wes, you and I will search east and west."
Wesley sighed, "God help me." He hurried over to Faith. "Come along, Faith."
Faith gave him a smile, trying to make a truce with him. She followed him out of the hotel and into the sunlight.
"It's just you and me now," Cordelia sighed. "We should do some research."
Angel began to pace. "I can't just wait here for them."
He stopped pacing when Cordelia wrapped her arms around him. "Angel, I don't want the man I love to come back to me as nothing but ashes. I love you too much to let you go out in the sun and try to go underneath to the sewers. Please, wait till the sun goes down. Try to get some sleep. We haven't slept since..."
"The night before you were kidnapped," Angel held her tightly to him and kissed the top of her head.
"You need to get some sleep. I'll stay up and see if they come here with any news," Cordelia promised.
Angel tilted her head up and kissed her deeply. "Thanks. I'm going to go try to get some sleep, because I know you're right."
"Good," Cordelia let go of him and watched him go up the stairs to his room. She collapsed then as a vision attacked her.
Spike, Wesley, and Faith were underground in a cave, Sahjhan standing off to one side, smirking, as someone let an arrow fly from a crossbow. It hit Spike on the heart, and he exploded in a cloud of dust. Wesley and Faith turned to find Riley and Harmony standing in the doorway, smirking. Riley shot Faith with a shotgun, and Harmony shot Wesley with a crossbow.
When Cordelia came out of it, she found herself in Angel's arms. "Angel..." Cordelia murmured.
"What happened, Cordelia?" Angel asked. "What did you see?"
"Riley and Harmony...they'll turn on Spike and Wesley and Faith...kill them all..." Cordelia passed out then. The visions had been getting worse. This was the first time she'd passed out from one of them though.
Angel pressed his lips together, lifting Cordelia and marching up the stairs. He laid her in his bed and sat in a chair at the bedside. Once again, the Powers That Be decided to screw him over.