One second, two... any more that Buffy's gone, making it harder to
find her. He got up, noticing but not caring about the gun in his
face.

"Freeze!"

He was at the door, feeling the gun on him, feeling the gunshots in
his stomach as he opens the door. Slipping out of his human face,
turning to him. "Where were you when I was actually evil and killing
people?"

The cop panicked and kept shooting the door. Spike limped, feeling
the bullets in his leg and back. And for a few more minutes he could
pretend they didn't hurt, pretend he could just run off, looking for
her. People stared at him, he felt his face, still in gameface.
Still the monster. He didn't care, did he? A child sat frozen in a
wheelchair, it's father frozen behind it. The boy was screaming as
he looked at him.

Spike fell down before him, struggling to stay up and get back up
again. "Am I evil?"

Another shot hit his back, he turned halfway, growling at the cop
risking innocent citizens by shooting. Another shot; this was
hurting. The cop got closer, finally kicking him in the face. Spike
growled, trying to get up again. Another kick, the cop hit him in
the head with the back of his gun. He fell down, his eyes still
open, staring as he finally blacked out.


****


Small cuts, just enough to bleed her. She tried to fight him, hold
him back. His tongue brushed past her wounds, licking the blood.

"Oh come on Dawnie. Just a wee bit more screaming, can't tell me
you're all screamed out yet?" He cut her again, trailing his
fingernail in her cheek.

"Please. No."

She was all naked, all laid out before him. All his.

Buffy was waking up, seeing him with Dawn, yelling his name, begging
him. How he loved to make her beg, how he'd make her come. Begging
him to take her instead of Dawn. To please let her sister go. But
then, it was never a game of either or, the fun was in having both.

"Angel please."


******


Spike woke up in a cell. His wounds itched, as he knew they would.
Most of the bullets were gone except for one. He plucked at the
wound till he got it out.

"Yech. Does your kind do that often?"

"Why not? It itches."

"But its gross!"

"Not as gross as a repurgative demon."
Spike slowly got up, sitting on the cot and staring at the man
behind the bars. The cop seemed to be the only one not stinking of
fear. He could smell it coming from the cells next to them. Fear,
gutwrenching terror.

"I have to go."

"You're not going anywhere, bloodsucker."

Spike got up, moving to the bars, the cop backed up, pulling out a
gun.

"Back off." Spike stared into the barrel. It wasn't just another
peashooter, a good shot could get half your face off in one blow
with that kind of thing. "So, are you gonna tell me what was
happening when we caught up to you, or do you stay here and fry with
the coming of the sun?"

"Damn you. He got her, and because of you he's getting away with it."

"Names, bloodsucker. I need names."

"They wouldn't mean a thing to you."

"Couldn't hurt, though, could it?"

Spike got even closer, as close as the bars'd allow it. "Angelus."
He said the name with such venom that it created goosebumps across
the human's skin.

"Quite a name, that. Pretty distinctive."

Spike rattled the bars, emitting a low growl. "Let me out." The man
just grinned, angering him even more. "If you don't, you'll be
finding their corpses for weeks... or worse." And he didn't even
dare consider that worse option.

"Any other names I should know, boy?"

"The name's Spike," he changed to gameface, halting for a second as
he could feel the cop's trigger finger starting to tense up.

"What about this 'her' you keep mentioning? Who is she?"

"The Slayer. Her and kid sis. Angelus took Dawn, we were trying to
find her and then he took Buffy as well."

"Buffy... Buffy Summers?"

"Yeah, you bloody well know any other Buffy's?"

"Two or three, but that's not the point. I was just looking at Miss
Summers' file earlier tonight."

"Oh?" Other Buffy's? Were Americans insane? Joyce he loved the
woman, but damn, what person would do that to a child?

"This is California, Spike. Buffy's are a quarter apiece in this
state. But that's not the point, as I said."

"Then what is, and why the hell are you still standing in my way."

"The point is that I could probably use a K-9 unit to track your
girlfriend down. Unless... you have an idea as to where she is
already."

"Mate, if I could track them by scent, I'd have already done it.
Vampire, here, remember?" Spike pulled back, not sure what to
do. "I... the dreams. I know they're in some kind of room. Not in a
cave, the walls were all wrong for that. They seemed familiar
somehow, but I'm not sure why."

"Try to think. Try to remember."
The Copper believed him, Spike felt a burden drop from his back

"There was a bed in the middle of the room. Red silk sheets. He
always liked those. Manacles on the wall, Buffy and Dawn...."

"No windows, obviously... what materials were the walls made out of?"

"Just stone. Bit dusty, like the place hadn't been used for a while.
But then, that's half of Sunnydale for you."

"Hm."

"Oh god, that ceiling. They're in the old mansion on Crawford
street."

The cop nodded, and started unlocking the door before giving him an
odd glance. "You recognize a place by the ceiling?"

"You try being paralyzed for a couple of months and see what you end
up staring at most of the day."

The human got the door open, and gave Spike a level stare. "Listen
and listen good, Spike-my-lad: I don't like you. I don't like
vampires in general, but I've been living in this insane town for
fifteen years, so I'm a little used to you guys. I'm not doing this
for you, but for those human girls that you say this Angelus
character is holding captive. You know where they are, and you're
probably the only one that can get them outta there."

Spike hissed, forcing him against the wall. Yet the cop still didn't
stop his glare. For a second their glares fought and the vampire
knew he'd lose. "Thanks."

tbc