In the Space of a Journey
Chapter Twelve
Sunnydale -- The Waterfront
After calling Jenny, Angel walked down the waterfront in the direction Faith had disappeared. He guessed she had gone back to the bar where she'd been flirting with the guy in black leather. Angel hoped to get there before she did something that got her in trouble. Yeah, Faith could probably take one guy, but in places like this, Angel knew from past experiences, sometimes there was more than one guy. And Faith seemed just the type to start a bar brawl. Then again, she'd only been out of his sight for a little over ten minutes -- how much trouble could she have gotten herself into, anyway?
He found the place easily, even without the guy Faith had dubbed Bubba standing in the doorway. It was rundown, full of smoke, and Angel could smell the alcohol several yards away. He walked inside and found a convenient spot near the door to lurk and scan the crowd.
Faith wasn't hard to find. She was sitting on top of the bar wheedling tequila shots out of the bartender, and her group of admirers. A group of men of varying ages and dirt levels were cheering her on, led by Bubba. The brunette's flushed cheeks told Angel that she'd already downed several of the potent shots.
"C'mon, baby," Bubba called to Faith. "Do another! Six shots this quick beats Timbo's record."
"Don' do it!" another guy slurred. "It'll put ya under tha table, an' then we couldn't talk to ya no more."
Faith took that comment as an insult. "You think I can't do it?" she challenged. "I bet I can drink more than anyone in this bar..."
"A li'l bit of a thing like you?" an older man answered. "No way!"
"Bet'cha a hundred dollars," Faith challenged.
Angel decided this was his moment to step in. He walked forward, pushing his way through the crowd of guys until he stood next to the bar. Faith's head was a little above his. Her eyes widened when she saw him there.
"So, decided to have a little fun after all?" she asked.
He didn't notice any obvious slurring in her voice, or any unstableness in her movements. Angel figured the tequila hadn't had time to hit her bloodstream yet. "I think we should get out of here," he told her quietly.
"No way!" Faith protested very loudly. "I'm not leavin' until I'm good and ready!"
Bubba heard her and clamped a hand on Angel's shoulder. Looking at Faith, he asked, "Is this guy bothering you?"
Faith grinned and shook her head. "Nah, it's OK. He's just a stick-in-the-mud. Doesn't know how to party!"
"Ah..." Bubba nodded knowingly. "My brother-in-law's like that. Once we just had to loosen him up."
"How'd you do that?" Faith asked, crossing her legs and letting them dangle off the bar.
When Bubba finished oogling her legs, he answered, "We gave him a few of these." He handed Angel a tequila shot of his own, and then told the bar tender, "Put it on my tab."
Angel tried to give the small glass back to him. "No... no thanks."
"I insist," Bubba replied, giving Angel a meaningful look.
Taking another shot of her own, Faith looked at Angel over the rim. "I dare you."
Angel watched her swallow her shot in one gulp, and before he even realized that his hand had moved, the foul taste of tequila filled his mouth. He sputtered, but managed to swallow it. The men laughed. Faith looked at him with a touch of approval in her eyes, and handed him a slice of lime. "I didn't think you had the guts. But not even you can out-drink me..."
"Yeah, baby!" Bubba crowed happily.
Before Angel knew what was happening, another shot was pressed upon him. He drank it down with Faith's eyes on him the whole time. This one went down a little easier than the previous one. No one laughed at him this time.
Several shots and a good while later, Angel found himself looking blearily at the pile of empty glasses on the bar, knowing that each one had been matched by Faith. It was disappointing, because for some reason he'd wanted very badly to outdo her. But she'd had a significant head start.
With effort, he moved his eyes up to meet hers. She had a silly grin plastered on her face. It took Angel a minute to both figure out what he wanted to say, and to get his tongue to say it, but finally he managed to say, fairly intelligibly, "I think you won, Faith."
"Angel," Faith slurred, "wanna go dancin' wif me? I wanna go dancin'."
"Sure, why not," Angel agreed, conveniently forgetting that he hated to dance. The last time he'd gone dancing had been with a gypsy girl, and that hadn't turned out to well for him. He fished in his pockets and found a wad of cash. He stared at it.
Realizing that Faith was leaving, Bubba grinned at Angel. "Way to go, stick-in-the-mud. Now, lem'me help you with that." Then he took the cash out of Angel's hand.
"I gotta get down," Faith announced suddenly. "Wash out below..." With that, she hopped off the bar and very nearly crashed onto the floor. Angel tried to catch her, but he only managed to grab one arm, slowing, but not stopping, her fall. Faith grabbed his arm to pull herself up from the floor, and almost ended up pulling him down with her. The guys around them laughed, and Faith and Angel joined in.
With Bubba's help, Angel finally managed to get Faith back on her feet, though she swayed back and forth a little. Bubba took several bills off of the wad, and then handed the rest back to Angel. "Use it for a cab, buddy," he advised.
"S'OK," Angel replied. "We'll jus' walk..."
"It's not always safe after dark," Bubba reminded them.
Faith's head jerked up, and suddenly she was right in Bubba's face. "I can take care of myshelf misher, and I'll kish the mouf of anyone who shays otherwise."
"Kiss?" Bubba questioned with a leer, but he backed off when Faith scowled ferociously at him.
"I think she meant crush," Angel said, laughing. It seemed extremely funny to him.
"C'mon, Angel," Faith ordered, turning her back on Bubba. "Lesh get outta here."
Angel followed her out of the bar, wondering suddenly what time it was. He squinted down at his watch, but the tiny hands seemed to blur together.
"Come dansh wif me, Angel!"
He looked up just in time to see Faith climb clumsily up onto the ledge that separated the street from the water of the harbor. It took him a minute to walk over there because his feet weren't exactly following orders, but he finally made it. Angel looked up at her, and noticed the way the moonlight halloed her mahogany hair. "You're so pretty," he mumbled.
Faith smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah," Angel agreed, leaning against the ledge. He looked down. It was a long way down. The ledge was just wide enough for one person to stand normally.
"You're pretty, too," she replied, stifling a hiccup. Then she began to twirl around. Once, she almost lost her balance when one of her feet missed the ledge entirely. Angel reached up and managed to steady her. "Oopsi-daisy," Faith muttered, and she began to giggle.
Looking down at the water again, Angel began to have a bad feeling about this. "You shouldn't dance here, Faith," he said. "Kinda dangerous."
"I live for danger!" Faith yelled at the top of her lungs. She jumped crazily, and landed wrong. She wavered back and forth on the edge of the drop-off until Angel pulled her off. But he pulled too hard, and she came all the way off the ledge on the street side. Faith landed heavily on top of him, knocking them both down onto the dirty street. Faith looked up at him with soulful, brown eyes. "You shaved my life," she slurred gently. She reached up and touched his cheek. "Thanks." Then with a sigh, she closed her eyes and passed out.
Angel was a little more alert by this time. He knew he had to get her back to her motel, and he had to do it before dawn. He picked Faith up easily, and cradled her in his arms like a baby. All thoughts of a taxi, however, flew out of his head, and he started the long walk to her hotel. By the time he was almost there, he had sobered up quite a bit.
"Cab, Angel," he told himself with a groan. "Next time, call a cab."
When they got to the motel, he shook Faith and said, "You've got to tell me what room you're in!"
She stirred a little. Enough to mumble something that sounded like "Seventeen." Then she was completely out again.
Angel walked to room seventeen, but no one was there. The lights were off in all the rooms surrounding it, too. If this was the right place, the other commandos weren't home yet. Angel realized he had nowhere to take her, and he couldn't just leave her there. He got an idea, and, setting Faith down on the ground for a minute, he pulled her radio out of her belt. But no one answered. He tried all the frequencies, but couldn't raise Terrance or any of the others. Angel looked at his watch. It was getting really close to dawn. He had to get somewhere safe. He looked at Faith lying on the ground. What should he do with her? Picking her back up, he decided to take her with him, back to his apartment.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Cell
Doyle and Sonya stood with their eyes glued to the sliding metal door. It opened to reveal the young man Sonya had seen earlier, Marcus. He held a tray of food.
"Hello," he said pleasantly. "I see you're both up and all right."
"No thanks to you and your vampire goons," Sonya retorted bitterly.
"I am sorry about that." Marcus shook his head sadly.
"Yeah, I bet." Sonya glared at him. "What are you going to do with us now?" She wondered if she ought to let on that she knew the Council was behind this, but she decided not to, yet.
"Well, right now, I'm going to give you your dinner." Marcus balanced the tray on one hand and pulled the plastic credit card key out that opened the electronic lock on the bars door out of his pocket. "I'd like you both to step back against the wall, please. And, for goodness sake, don't try anything. There are electric currents embedded in the floor. If you try to jump me, one press of a button, and neither of you will be very happy. I really don't want to have to do that."
Sonya thought he looked almost sad as he watched them move back. When they were against the wall, Marcus opened the door, set the tray inside on the floor, and then closed and re-locked the door. "Bon appetite," he said with a smile. "Oh, and if you need anything while you're staying with us, all you have to do is yell. There's a guard stationed right outside your door. He'll hear you." And with that, Marcus shut the sliding metal door again, leaving them alone.
Doyle and Sonya exchanged looks.
"They must think we're valuable prisoners ta give us our own, personal guard," Doyle said, shaking his head.
"What do they want with us?" Sonya wailed. "I can't think of any reason..."
"I know why they want me," Doyle interrupted. "Me vision. It told me that there was somethin' fishy goin' on wi' the Council. I guess that the somethin' fishy involves part, if not all, of whoever makes the decisions around here. They want to shut me up. That's why they took me, and why they had that airport dude try ta kill me."
Sonya nodded. That made some kind of sense. "But why would they take me? Just because I was there? I mean, they didn't take Cordelia, and she was there."
Doyle shrugged. "Have ye ever done anythin' that the Council objected to? Is there some reason why they'd want ye quiet?"
"Well..." Sonya hesitated and then said, "maybe it's because of Giles. Because of how he kept me alive without telling them the truth, I mean. I am the only ex-Slayer still living. That and my healing abilities are pretty much the only unique things about me..."
"I'd say that was a good guess," Doyle agreed. "Though I guess we willnae find out fer sure until they decide to tell us."
"Or until we're rescued," Sonya added.
Doyle looked at her in surprise. "Yer thinkin' we'll be rescued?"
"My friends will come for us," Sonya said positively.
"Ye think so?' Doyle asked incredulously. "How are they gonna find out where we are? An', no offense, but they didnae seem very willing to suspect the Council of wrong-doings. I think we're gonna have to get outta here ourselves... if we can."
"That would be good," Sonya agreed. "Maybe the next time they open the door we can do something, but if it doesn't work, I know Giles, Buffy and the others. They won't rest until they find me." The thought of Oz flashed through her mind. She missed Oz. He had this way of always making things seem better than they were. She wished she was with him right now.
"It must be nice to have friends ye can count on like that," Doyle remarked quietly. "I only have one friend in London, an' he's not expectin' ta ever see me again. He will never notice I'm gone." He paused for a minute, thinking bleak thoughts, then he pushed them away and said, "Enough o' this! I'm gonna eat. I'm starvin'!" He walked over to the tray, and looked at the two plates. Each was covered by a silver, dome-shaped cover. They were labeled, Sonya and Doyle. Doyle took the one with his name on it and sat down to eat. He uncovered it to find a pint of ale, a bowl of hearty beef stew, a pile of green beans and a thick slice of bread. His stomach growled. Doyle looked over at Sonya who was contemplating her own tray of food, which included a soda, a hamburger, french fries and a cookie covered in powdered sugar. He picked up his glass and gestured to her with it. "Cheers."
"Wait!" Sonya cried before he could get the glass to his mouth. "Don't you think it's a little odd that they labeled our plates. What if they poisoned them or something? Maybe we shouldn't eat them..."
Doyle looked from the steaming stew to Sonya and back again. His stomach growled again. It had been over twelve hours since his last meal. "Nooo!" he protested.
"Why else would they prepare something special, and different, for each of us?" Sonya asked.
Doyle set the tray down and flopped down onto the floor on his back. "Now what?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment
They beat the dawn, but not by much. Angel laid Faith down on one side of his bed with a sigh of relief. She was heavier than she looked, and now he was very tired. The depressant part of the alcohol was kicking in. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his coat on the ground and lay down next to her. A few seconds later, he was asleep.
A hand on his chest woke him up. Angel cracked open his eyes to see Faith leaning over him. "Now that you have me here," she asked, almost all of the slur gone from her voice, "what *are* you going to do with me?"
"Sleep?" Angel croaked, fighting a sense of deja vu. He could still feel the affects of the alcohol in his system, so they couldn't have been there very long, but he could also sense that the sun was fully up in the sky.
"Sleeping's no fun..." Faith's fingers began to unbutton his red, silk shirt.
Suddenly, Angel wasn't sleepy any more. "I don't think..."
She interrupted him with a kiss. A hard, punishing kiss. He could feel her teeth pressing against his lips. And then he was kissing her back just as passionately. It had been a really long time, and Faith had been driving him crazy since the first moment he saw her.
Abruptly, Faith pulled back. She gave him an odd look. Angel returned the look, for once completely unsure of what to do. He wondered if she was already regretting this. "It's daylight, now," Angel said quietly. "You can go, and I can't follow."
In a lightning quick move, Faith lunged down and nipped his ear with her teeth. Angel groaned. Faith straddled him with her muscular legs, and leaned down to whisper huskily, "Don't be a stick-in-the-mud, Angel."
He looked into her laughing eyes for a minute, and then reached up for her. He tangled his fingers into her hair, and roughly pulled her down until their lips met again. Soon all thoughts of should or shouldn't vanished from their minds, as pure sensation took over.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Cell
"I'm so hungry!" Doyle complained for about the millionth time.
Sonya looked over at him. "I know, I am, too, but it is worth the risk?"
Suddenly, the half-demon sat up. "You know what? It is. I'm eatin' right now. I cannae wait any more!"
"Stop!" Sonya cried. Her mind worked busily for a second, and then she said, "How about this. I'll try mine. If there's poison, I'll feel it, but I'll heal a lot faster than you will."
Doyle looked at her seriously. "Ye'd really do that fer me?"
"Sure," Sonya said.
Doyle smiled. "Thank ye, lass."
She dismissed the compliment. "Don't worry about it. I'm hungry, too." She looked down at her tray. First she picked up the glass of soda and took a sip. It seemed normal. Then she picked up her cookie.
"Yer startin' wi' dessert?" Doyle asked in surprise.
"It's better that way," Sonya replied, taking a big bite. She barely chewed before she swallowed. "Oh, wow -- this is the best cookie I've ever had!" Then she grimaced.
"You OK?" Doyle asked quickly. "Poison?"
Sonya touched her throat. "I think... I think I just need to chew more. That was a little scratchy going down."
She took another bite. This time she chewed more slowly. Sugar crunched between her teeth.
"So, ye think it's all right to eat?" Doyle asked, looking hungrily at his plate of rapidly cooling stew.
Still chewing, she was about to say it was all right, then she tasted an odd coppery taste in her mouth, accompanied by a sharp pain. She dropped the cookie and put her hand up to her still-full mouth. Her fingers came away coated with blood. Her eyes widened and she hurriedly spit out some of the cookie. The pink-tinted blob hit the floor with a splat. She began to choke, and Sonya had to swallow some of what was in her mouth.
Dropping his spoon back in his stew, Doyle looked at her in alarm. "What's wrong?"
Sonya could feel a searing, scratching pain as the bit of cookie made its way down to her stomach -- like glass rubbing over a would she already had. Suddenly, she closed her eyes, and clamped her hands to her stomach. A low groan came out of her mouth.
"Sonya!" Doyle cried, rushing to her side.
She opened her mouth to reply, and instead she let out a blood-curdling scream. The pain was getting worse and worse with each passing second. Clutching his sleeve, she said, "Doyle, it hurts! It hurts!" She screamed again.
Doyle's eyes widened in horror. A trickle of blood came out of the side of her mouth. Then she coughed, and more came spilling out, all over Doyle's arm. She moaned and jerked back and forth, blood running from the corners of her mouth and dripping on the floor.
"What can I do, Sonya?" Doyle asked wildly. He was afraid to touch her or try to move her, but he was also afraid not to. The keening noise coming from her mouth was getting louder. Her shirt was soaked in blood, and more of the thick, red liquid had smeared all over her face. Her hair was matted in it again.
Sonya screamed again. "A million knives... tearing up my stomach." Blood bubbled out with each word. Whatever she'd eaten, it was something worse than your normal, everyday poison.
Doyle jumped up, reached through the bars and banged on the metal door with all his strength. It was enough to bruise his hands. "Guard! Guard! Something's wrong! Help!" A few seconds later he heard the key in the lock. Doyle dropped back down beside the writhing Sonya. "Donae worry, lass. Help's on the way."
She curled into the fetal position, moaning and whimpering. Tears leaked out of her eyes even though they were squeezed shut.
The doors opened and Doyle looked up to see a guard and a man in a white coat with a stretcher. Pointing a gun at Doyle, the guard ordered, "Get back."
Covered in Sonya's blood, Doyle scooted back to the other side of the cage. "Is she gonna be all right?"
They lifted her up onto the stretcher, and put her tray of food on a shelf at the bottom of the stretcher. Then the man in the white coat wheeled her out of the cage.
"Is she gonna be OK, man?" Doyle demanded.
The guard shrugged. "I guess that's what they're going to try and find out."
A wave of anger washed over Doyle. As the guard began to pull the bars shut, Doyle grabbed his tray of uneaten food and threw it at the man. The stew hit him square in the chest, and the ale soaked his shoes.
The guard glared at Doyle. "You'd better watch it, mister. One more stunt like that, and I'll..."
"What?" Doyle demanded, an animal look in his eyes. "Bring it on!"
The guard rolled his eyes and then slid the metal door shut again, leaving Doyle completely alone in the almost dark.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel
Xander and Buffy lay on Buffy's bed in the girl's room, getting a few seconds of alone time. Joyce and Cordelia had gone in search of ice, and Giles was pondering over the letter Buffy had given him in the car. Neither Buffy nor Xander had ever seen Giles look so pale.
"Do you think he's OK?" Buffy asked, resting her head on his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath the fabric of his shirt.
Xander re-settled his arms around her, enjoying the smell of her hair despite all the unpleasant things going through his head. "I want to know what he did while we were on that tour. He didn't look very good when we got back, and the letter just made it worse."
"Do you think it's true?" Buffy asked. "The letter, I mean?"
"I don't know." Xander shrugged.
Buffy sighed deeply. "There's so much going on, and I don't know what to do about any of it -- Giles, the Council, the letter, Sonya and Doyle..."
He squeezed her in a comforting hug. "I don't know what to do, either, Buffy, but you know what?"
"What?" She raised up a little to look into his beautiful, brown eyes. The love in them always made her feel better.
Xander smiled at her. "Somehow, we'll figure it all out. We always do. It's our M.O.... Things get as bad as they can possibly get, and then we work together to save the day, or the world, or both."
"I hope you're right," Buffy said, nestling back down into the crook of his arm.
"I know I am," Xander replied positively. "I have to be. Because if not..." He didn't finish that sentence aloud. Neither of them did. Instead, he just hugged Buffy tighter, and she hugged him back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment
Faith and Angel lay next to each other on the bed, clothes scattered all around them. Beads of sweat from recent activities, and a thin, cotton sheet, covered their bodies. The silence was deafening.
Angel wondered what to say. Were there any proper words for when you'd just had mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous girl you mostly hated? He sighed, starting to feel guilty. He should have stopped this. It never should have happened...
Faith raised up on one elbow and looked at him from her inscrutable brown eyes. "So..."
"So..." Angel replied, wondering if she was going to -- what had she said about unwanted advances the night before? -- bash his balls in.
She grinned. "Wanna do it again?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel
"I don't want to go!" Cordelia wailed, flopping down on Xander's cot without regard for her hair.
From his chair by the table, Oz gave Cordelia a stern look. "You have to go. You're the only one of us who's seen those vampires." He seemed to have had a lot of practice dealing with her while they were alone together all day.
Buffy, sitting on Oz's bed next to Xander, smiled at Cordelia. "The first time I walked into a den of vampires, I was scared, too, but I promise I'll protect you."
"It'll be fine," Xander assured her. "All you have to do is give the pub the once over and see if you recognize anyone, while we ask the bartender about Spike."
Cordelia sat back up, arching an eyebrow at Buffy and Xander. Apparently the bitch was back. "Fine! I'll go, but you guys really owe me one, and you'd better remember that." She stood and walked into the bathroom with her purse, and began fixing her hair and makeup.
Buffy grinned at Xander. "Yeah, saving her life twice just isn't adequate pay back for going on a reconnaissance mission with us."
Xander just shook his head. "She's Cordelia Chase. What can I say?" Shooting a glance toward the bathroom to make sure Cordelia wasn't in earshot, he leaned down and whispered to Buffy, "Did I tell you that when we were little me, Willow and my friend Jesse had this club? It was called the We Hate Cordelia Club. I was the treasurer."
Buffy smothered a laugh, "Really? That's classic!" She paused long enough to control her giggles, and then added, "But, you know, she's really not *all* bad. I mean, I think there are reasons why she acts the way she does." Her mind flitted to the callous letter Mr. Chase had left for his daughter before jaunting off to Belgium, leaving Cordelia abandoned in England.
"Tell me that *after* we get done with this mission," Xander challenged her. "If you can."
Giles cleared his throat from where he sat at the table between Oz and Joyce. "If you two are finished with your private conversation..."
"Yes, sir," Buffy answered guiltily, and she and Xander straightened up and began to pay attention. Cordelia stood in the doorway of the bathroom, listening and combing her hair simultaneously.
"Now," Giles said, "you three are to go straight to the pub, and come straight back when you are finished. I've made you a map, and listed what stop you're to get off at when you take the Tube."
Buffy nodded. "Right. We can handle it."
"What are you guys going to do while we're gone?" Xander asked.
"I'm manning the phone," Oz answered briefly. His eyes flickered from Xander to the phone sitting on the table next to him. He hadn't been more than three feet from it all day.
"And I'll be here to keep Oz company," Joyce, the self-appointed moral officer of the group, added.
Everyone looked to Giles. "I will be in the other room meeting with my defense counselor for the tribunal. We have much to go over before the proceedings start tomorrow."
Buffy's brow furrowed as she looked at her Watcher. "But what about the letter? It said to trust no one. Do you really think you can trust this Wesley guy? He looked kind of clueless to me, but that could just be an act. He might be a spy."
"I don't know," Giles admitted with a sigh. "Wesley seems trustworthy enough, if a little jumpy. I'm not sure what to think of that letter either. It could be a warning, or it could be a huge hoax. We shouldn't distrust too much until we have some proof."
"So you keep saying," Buffy muttered, wondering how much more proof was needed than a kidnapping and a letter from the inside. But she didn't contradict him. She would wait and challenge him on this after they got back from the pub. Hopefully, either Spike would be there and have some lead, or Cordelia would recognize one of her attackers so Buffy could torture him until he admitted who hired him.
There was a knock on the door. Giles stood up and opened it. Wesley came into the room. "Good evening all," he said, nodding to each person in the room. "Buffy, good to see you again. Rupert..." He paused when his eyes landed on Cordelia. "Oh... er... hello... I don't believe we've met..."
Cordelia turned on her mega-watt smile, as she did any time a man, even a mildly attractive one, entered the room. "I'm Cordelia Chase."
"Wesley..." Wesley stammered, tripping over his own tongue. "Wesley Price-Windham, I mean Wesley Windham-Price. Pleased to meet you..."
Giles shook his head, and sighed. Then he said, "Wesley, let's go into the other room where we can talk more privately."
"Oh... er... of course, Rupert." Wesley turned to follow Giles out the door, pausing at the threshold for one last glance at Cordelia. "Hope to see you... all... again soon."
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief once Wesley was gone. She didn't want him to know what was going on, just in case he was a spy. She looked at her mother. "You know the cover story, in case Wesley notices we're gone?"
Joyce nodded. "You got hungry. Went out for a late dinner." Joyce stood and gave Buffy a tight hug. "I know I always say this, but be careful sweetie."
Returning the hug, Buffy said, "I always am, Mom."
"I know," Joyce replied. "I just have to say it. It's a mother's job."
They shared a quick smile of understanding, and then Buffy turned to Cordelia and Xander. "Everybody ready?"
"Yeah..." Cordelia agreed, putting her comb back in her purse.
"Got your weapons?" Buffy asked, double checking that she had her two knives and several stakes scattered about her person, especially in the pockets of her denim jacket.
"Check," Xander replied, patting the pockets of his leather jacket. Cordelia stuffed a stake in her purse, though Buffy didn't know what Cordelia would do with it.
"All right," Buffy said. "Let's go." She let Xander and Cordelia precede her out the door. She paused by Oz's chair. "We're going to get a lead if I have to tear that pub down brick by brick."
Oz nodded. "I hope so."
She flashed what she hoped was an encouraging smile at him, and then she followed Xander and Cordelia out of the hotel.
Chapter Twelve
Sunnydale -- The Waterfront
After calling Jenny, Angel walked down the waterfront in the direction Faith had disappeared. He guessed she had gone back to the bar where she'd been flirting with the guy in black leather. Angel hoped to get there before she did something that got her in trouble. Yeah, Faith could probably take one guy, but in places like this, Angel knew from past experiences, sometimes there was more than one guy. And Faith seemed just the type to start a bar brawl. Then again, she'd only been out of his sight for a little over ten minutes -- how much trouble could she have gotten herself into, anyway?
He found the place easily, even without the guy Faith had dubbed Bubba standing in the doorway. It was rundown, full of smoke, and Angel could smell the alcohol several yards away. He walked inside and found a convenient spot near the door to lurk and scan the crowd.
Faith wasn't hard to find. She was sitting on top of the bar wheedling tequila shots out of the bartender, and her group of admirers. A group of men of varying ages and dirt levels were cheering her on, led by Bubba. The brunette's flushed cheeks told Angel that she'd already downed several of the potent shots.
"C'mon, baby," Bubba called to Faith. "Do another! Six shots this quick beats Timbo's record."
"Don' do it!" another guy slurred. "It'll put ya under tha table, an' then we couldn't talk to ya no more."
Faith took that comment as an insult. "You think I can't do it?" she challenged. "I bet I can drink more than anyone in this bar..."
"A li'l bit of a thing like you?" an older man answered. "No way!"
"Bet'cha a hundred dollars," Faith challenged.
Angel decided this was his moment to step in. He walked forward, pushing his way through the crowd of guys until he stood next to the bar. Faith's head was a little above his. Her eyes widened when she saw him there.
"So, decided to have a little fun after all?" she asked.
He didn't notice any obvious slurring in her voice, or any unstableness in her movements. Angel figured the tequila hadn't had time to hit her bloodstream yet. "I think we should get out of here," he told her quietly.
"No way!" Faith protested very loudly. "I'm not leavin' until I'm good and ready!"
Bubba heard her and clamped a hand on Angel's shoulder. Looking at Faith, he asked, "Is this guy bothering you?"
Faith grinned and shook her head. "Nah, it's OK. He's just a stick-in-the-mud. Doesn't know how to party!"
"Ah..." Bubba nodded knowingly. "My brother-in-law's like that. Once we just had to loosen him up."
"How'd you do that?" Faith asked, crossing her legs and letting them dangle off the bar.
When Bubba finished oogling her legs, he answered, "We gave him a few of these." He handed Angel a tequila shot of his own, and then told the bar tender, "Put it on my tab."
Angel tried to give the small glass back to him. "No... no thanks."
"I insist," Bubba replied, giving Angel a meaningful look.
Taking another shot of her own, Faith looked at Angel over the rim. "I dare you."
Angel watched her swallow her shot in one gulp, and before he even realized that his hand had moved, the foul taste of tequila filled his mouth. He sputtered, but managed to swallow it. The men laughed. Faith looked at him with a touch of approval in her eyes, and handed him a slice of lime. "I didn't think you had the guts. But not even you can out-drink me..."
"Yeah, baby!" Bubba crowed happily.
Before Angel knew what was happening, another shot was pressed upon him. He drank it down with Faith's eyes on him the whole time. This one went down a little easier than the previous one. No one laughed at him this time.
Several shots and a good while later, Angel found himself looking blearily at the pile of empty glasses on the bar, knowing that each one had been matched by Faith. It was disappointing, because for some reason he'd wanted very badly to outdo her. But she'd had a significant head start.
With effort, he moved his eyes up to meet hers. She had a silly grin plastered on her face. It took Angel a minute to both figure out what he wanted to say, and to get his tongue to say it, but finally he managed to say, fairly intelligibly, "I think you won, Faith."
"Angel," Faith slurred, "wanna go dancin' wif me? I wanna go dancin'."
"Sure, why not," Angel agreed, conveniently forgetting that he hated to dance. The last time he'd gone dancing had been with a gypsy girl, and that hadn't turned out to well for him. He fished in his pockets and found a wad of cash. He stared at it.
Realizing that Faith was leaving, Bubba grinned at Angel. "Way to go, stick-in-the-mud. Now, lem'me help you with that." Then he took the cash out of Angel's hand.
"I gotta get down," Faith announced suddenly. "Wash out below..." With that, she hopped off the bar and very nearly crashed onto the floor. Angel tried to catch her, but he only managed to grab one arm, slowing, but not stopping, her fall. Faith grabbed his arm to pull herself up from the floor, and almost ended up pulling him down with her. The guys around them laughed, and Faith and Angel joined in.
With Bubba's help, Angel finally managed to get Faith back on her feet, though she swayed back and forth a little. Bubba took several bills off of the wad, and then handed the rest back to Angel. "Use it for a cab, buddy," he advised.
"S'OK," Angel replied. "We'll jus' walk..."
"It's not always safe after dark," Bubba reminded them.
Faith's head jerked up, and suddenly she was right in Bubba's face. "I can take care of myshelf misher, and I'll kish the mouf of anyone who shays otherwise."
"Kiss?" Bubba questioned with a leer, but he backed off when Faith scowled ferociously at him.
"I think she meant crush," Angel said, laughing. It seemed extremely funny to him.
"C'mon, Angel," Faith ordered, turning her back on Bubba. "Lesh get outta here."
Angel followed her out of the bar, wondering suddenly what time it was. He squinted down at his watch, but the tiny hands seemed to blur together.
"Come dansh wif me, Angel!"
He looked up just in time to see Faith climb clumsily up onto the ledge that separated the street from the water of the harbor. It took him a minute to walk over there because his feet weren't exactly following orders, but he finally made it. Angel looked up at her, and noticed the way the moonlight halloed her mahogany hair. "You're so pretty," he mumbled.
Faith smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah," Angel agreed, leaning against the ledge. He looked down. It was a long way down. The ledge was just wide enough for one person to stand normally.
"You're pretty, too," she replied, stifling a hiccup. Then she began to twirl around. Once, she almost lost her balance when one of her feet missed the ledge entirely. Angel reached up and managed to steady her. "Oopsi-daisy," Faith muttered, and she began to giggle.
Looking down at the water again, Angel began to have a bad feeling about this. "You shouldn't dance here, Faith," he said. "Kinda dangerous."
"I live for danger!" Faith yelled at the top of her lungs. She jumped crazily, and landed wrong. She wavered back and forth on the edge of the drop-off until Angel pulled her off. But he pulled too hard, and she came all the way off the ledge on the street side. Faith landed heavily on top of him, knocking them both down onto the dirty street. Faith looked up at him with soulful, brown eyes. "You shaved my life," she slurred gently. She reached up and touched his cheek. "Thanks." Then with a sigh, she closed her eyes and passed out.
Angel was a little more alert by this time. He knew he had to get her back to her motel, and he had to do it before dawn. He picked Faith up easily, and cradled her in his arms like a baby. All thoughts of a taxi, however, flew out of his head, and he started the long walk to her hotel. By the time he was almost there, he had sobered up quite a bit.
"Cab, Angel," he told himself with a groan. "Next time, call a cab."
When they got to the motel, he shook Faith and said, "You've got to tell me what room you're in!"
She stirred a little. Enough to mumble something that sounded like "Seventeen." Then she was completely out again.
Angel walked to room seventeen, but no one was there. The lights were off in all the rooms surrounding it, too. If this was the right place, the other commandos weren't home yet. Angel realized he had nowhere to take her, and he couldn't just leave her there. He got an idea, and, setting Faith down on the ground for a minute, he pulled her radio out of her belt. But no one answered. He tried all the frequencies, but couldn't raise Terrance or any of the others. Angel looked at his watch. It was getting really close to dawn. He had to get somewhere safe. He looked at Faith lying on the ground. What should he do with her? Picking her back up, he decided to take her with him, back to his apartment.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Cell
Doyle and Sonya stood with their eyes glued to the sliding metal door. It opened to reveal the young man Sonya had seen earlier, Marcus. He held a tray of food.
"Hello," he said pleasantly. "I see you're both up and all right."
"No thanks to you and your vampire goons," Sonya retorted bitterly.
"I am sorry about that." Marcus shook his head sadly.
"Yeah, I bet." Sonya glared at him. "What are you going to do with us now?" She wondered if she ought to let on that she knew the Council was behind this, but she decided not to, yet.
"Well, right now, I'm going to give you your dinner." Marcus balanced the tray on one hand and pulled the plastic credit card key out that opened the electronic lock on the bars door out of his pocket. "I'd like you both to step back against the wall, please. And, for goodness sake, don't try anything. There are electric currents embedded in the floor. If you try to jump me, one press of a button, and neither of you will be very happy. I really don't want to have to do that."
Sonya thought he looked almost sad as he watched them move back. When they were against the wall, Marcus opened the door, set the tray inside on the floor, and then closed and re-locked the door. "Bon appetite," he said with a smile. "Oh, and if you need anything while you're staying with us, all you have to do is yell. There's a guard stationed right outside your door. He'll hear you." And with that, Marcus shut the sliding metal door again, leaving them alone.
Doyle and Sonya exchanged looks.
"They must think we're valuable prisoners ta give us our own, personal guard," Doyle said, shaking his head.
"What do they want with us?" Sonya wailed. "I can't think of any reason..."
"I know why they want me," Doyle interrupted. "Me vision. It told me that there was somethin' fishy goin' on wi' the Council. I guess that the somethin' fishy involves part, if not all, of whoever makes the decisions around here. They want to shut me up. That's why they took me, and why they had that airport dude try ta kill me."
Sonya nodded. That made some kind of sense. "But why would they take me? Just because I was there? I mean, they didn't take Cordelia, and she was there."
Doyle shrugged. "Have ye ever done anythin' that the Council objected to? Is there some reason why they'd want ye quiet?"
"Well..." Sonya hesitated and then said, "maybe it's because of Giles. Because of how he kept me alive without telling them the truth, I mean. I am the only ex-Slayer still living. That and my healing abilities are pretty much the only unique things about me..."
"I'd say that was a good guess," Doyle agreed. "Though I guess we willnae find out fer sure until they decide to tell us."
"Or until we're rescued," Sonya added.
Doyle looked at her in surprise. "Yer thinkin' we'll be rescued?"
"My friends will come for us," Sonya said positively.
"Ye think so?' Doyle asked incredulously. "How are they gonna find out where we are? An', no offense, but they didnae seem very willing to suspect the Council of wrong-doings. I think we're gonna have to get outta here ourselves... if we can."
"That would be good," Sonya agreed. "Maybe the next time they open the door we can do something, but if it doesn't work, I know Giles, Buffy and the others. They won't rest until they find me." The thought of Oz flashed through her mind. She missed Oz. He had this way of always making things seem better than they were. She wished she was with him right now.
"It must be nice to have friends ye can count on like that," Doyle remarked quietly. "I only have one friend in London, an' he's not expectin' ta ever see me again. He will never notice I'm gone." He paused for a minute, thinking bleak thoughts, then he pushed them away and said, "Enough o' this! I'm gonna eat. I'm starvin'!" He walked over to the tray, and looked at the two plates. Each was covered by a silver, dome-shaped cover. They were labeled, Sonya and Doyle. Doyle took the one with his name on it and sat down to eat. He uncovered it to find a pint of ale, a bowl of hearty beef stew, a pile of green beans and a thick slice of bread. His stomach growled. Doyle looked over at Sonya who was contemplating her own tray of food, which included a soda, a hamburger, french fries and a cookie covered in powdered sugar. He picked up his glass and gestured to her with it. "Cheers."
"Wait!" Sonya cried before he could get the glass to his mouth. "Don't you think it's a little odd that they labeled our plates. What if they poisoned them or something? Maybe we shouldn't eat them..."
Doyle looked from the steaming stew to Sonya and back again. His stomach growled again. It had been over twelve hours since his last meal. "Nooo!" he protested.
"Why else would they prepare something special, and different, for each of us?" Sonya asked.
Doyle set the tray down and flopped down onto the floor on his back. "Now what?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment
They beat the dawn, but not by much. Angel laid Faith down on one side of his bed with a sigh of relief. She was heavier than she looked, and now he was very tired. The depressant part of the alcohol was kicking in. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his coat on the ground and lay down next to her. A few seconds later, he was asleep.
A hand on his chest woke him up. Angel cracked open his eyes to see Faith leaning over him. "Now that you have me here," she asked, almost all of the slur gone from her voice, "what *are* you going to do with me?"
"Sleep?" Angel croaked, fighting a sense of deja vu. He could still feel the affects of the alcohol in his system, so they couldn't have been there very long, but he could also sense that the sun was fully up in the sky.
"Sleeping's no fun..." Faith's fingers began to unbutton his red, silk shirt.
Suddenly, Angel wasn't sleepy any more. "I don't think..."
She interrupted him with a kiss. A hard, punishing kiss. He could feel her teeth pressing against his lips. And then he was kissing her back just as passionately. It had been a really long time, and Faith had been driving him crazy since the first moment he saw her.
Abruptly, Faith pulled back. She gave him an odd look. Angel returned the look, for once completely unsure of what to do. He wondered if she was already regretting this. "It's daylight, now," Angel said quietly. "You can go, and I can't follow."
In a lightning quick move, Faith lunged down and nipped his ear with her teeth. Angel groaned. Faith straddled him with her muscular legs, and leaned down to whisper huskily, "Don't be a stick-in-the-mud, Angel."
He looked into her laughing eyes for a minute, and then reached up for her. He tangled his fingers into her hair, and roughly pulled her down until their lips met again. Soon all thoughts of should or shouldn't vanished from their minds, as pure sensation took over.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Cell
"I'm so hungry!" Doyle complained for about the millionth time.
Sonya looked over at him. "I know, I am, too, but it is worth the risk?"
Suddenly, the half-demon sat up. "You know what? It is. I'm eatin' right now. I cannae wait any more!"
"Stop!" Sonya cried. Her mind worked busily for a second, and then she said, "How about this. I'll try mine. If there's poison, I'll feel it, but I'll heal a lot faster than you will."
Doyle looked at her seriously. "Ye'd really do that fer me?"
"Sure," Sonya said.
Doyle smiled. "Thank ye, lass."
She dismissed the compliment. "Don't worry about it. I'm hungry, too." She looked down at her tray. First she picked up the glass of soda and took a sip. It seemed normal. Then she picked up her cookie.
"Yer startin' wi' dessert?" Doyle asked in surprise.
"It's better that way," Sonya replied, taking a big bite. She barely chewed before she swallowed. "Oh, wow -- this is the best cookie I've ever had!" Then she grimaced.
"You OK?" Doyle asked quickly. "Poison?"
Sonya touched her throat. "I think... I think I just need to chew more. That was a little scratchy going down."
She took another bite. This time she chewed more slowly. Sugar crunched between her teeth.
"So, ye think it's all right to eat?" Doyle asked, looking hungrily at his plate of rapidly cooling stew.
Still chewing, she was about to say it was all right, then she tasted an odd coppery taste in her mouth, accompanied by a sharp pain. She dropped the cookie and put her hand up to her still-full mouth. Her fingers came away coated with blood. Her eyes widened and she hurriedly spit out some of the cookie. The pink-tinted blob hit the floor with a splat. She began to choke, and Sonya had to swallow some of what was in her mouth.
Dropping his spoon back in his stew, Doyle looked at her in alarm. "What's wrong?"
Sonya could feel a searing, scratching pain as the bit of cookie made its way down to her stomach -- like glass rubbing over a would she already had. Suddenly, she closed her eyes, and clamped her hands to her stomach. A low groan came out of her mouth.
"Sonya!" Doyle cried, rushing to her side.
She opened her mouth to reply, and instead she let out a blood-curdling scream. The pain was getting worse and worse with each passing second. Clutching his sleeve, she said, "Doyle, it hurts! It hurts!" She screamed again.
Doyle's eyes widened in horror. A trickle of blood came out of the side of her mouth. Then she coughed, and more came spilling out, all over Doyle's arm. She moaned and jerked back and forth, blood running from the corners of her mouth and dripping on the floor.
"What can I do, Sonya?" Doyle asked wildly. He was afraid to touch her or try to move her, but he was also afraid not to. The keening noise coming from her mouth was getting louder. Her shirt was soaked in blood, and more of the thick, red liquid had smeared all over her face. Her hair was matted in it again.
Sonya screamed again. "A million knives... tearing up my stomach." Blood bubbled out with each word. Whatever she'd eaten, it was something worse than your normal, everyday poison.
Doyle jumped up, reached through the bars and banged on the metal door with all his strength. It was enough to bruise his hands. "Guard! Guard! Something's wrong! Help!" A few seconds later he heard the key in the lock. Doyle dropped back down beside the writhing Sonya. "Donae worry, lass. Help's on the way."
She curled into the fetal position, moaning and whimpering. Tears leaked out of her eyes even though they were squeezed shut.
The doors opened and Doyle looked up to see a guard and a man in a white coat with a stretcher. Pointing a gun at Doyle, the guard ordered, "Get back."
Covered in Sonya's blood, Doyle scooted back to the other side of the cage. "Is she gonna be all right?"
They lifted her up onto the stretcher, and put her tray of food on a shelf at the bottom of the stretcher. Then the man in the white coat wheeled her out of the cage.
"Is she gonna be OK, man?" Doyle demanded.
The guard shrugged. "I guess that's what they're going to try and find out."
A wave of anger washed over Doyle. As the guard began to pull the bars shut, Doyle grabbed his tray of uneaten food and threw it at the man. The stew hit him square in the chest, and the ale soaked his shoes.
The guard glared at Doyle. "You'd better watch it, mister. One more stunt like that, and I'll..."
"What?" Doyle demanded, an animal look in his eyes. "Bring it on!"
The guard rolled his eyes and then slid the metal door shut again, leaving Doyle completely alone in the almost dark.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel
Xander and Buffy lay on Buffy's bed in the girl's room, getting a few seconds of alone time. Joyce and Cordelia had gone in search of ice, and Giles was pondering over the letter Buffy had given him in the car. Neither Buffy nor Xander had ever seen Giles look so pale.
"Do you think he's OK?" Buffy asked, resting her head on his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath the fabric of his shirt.
Xander re-settled his arms around her, enjoying the smell of her hair despite all the unpleasant things going through his head. "I want to know what he did while we were on that tour. He didn't look very good when we got back, and the letter just made it worse."
"Do you think it's true?" Buffy asked. "The letter, I mean?"
"I don't know." Xander shrugged.
Buffy sighed deeply. "There's so much going on, and I don't know what to do about any of it -- Giles, the Council, the letter, Sonya and Doyle..."
He squeezed her in a comforting hug. "I don't know what to do, either, Buffy, but you know what?"
"What?" She raised up a little to look into his beautiful, brown eyes. The love in them always made her feel better.
Xander smiled at her. "Somehow, we'll figure it all out. We always do. It's our M.O.... Things get as bad as they can possibly get, and then we work together to save the day, or the world, or both."
"I hope you're right," Buffy said, nestling back down into the crook of his arm.
"I know I am," Xander replied positively. "I have to be. Because if not..." He didn't finish that sentence aloud. Neither of them did. Instead, he just hugged Buffy tighter, and she hugged him back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment
Faith and Angel lay next to each other on the bed, clothes scattered all around them. Beads of sweat from recent activities, and a thin, cotton sheet, covered their bodies. The silence was deafening.
Angel wondered what to say. Were there any proper words for when you'd just had mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous girl you mostly hated? He sighed, starting to feel guilty. He should have stopped this. It never should have happened...
Faith raised up on one elbow and looked at him from her inscrutable brown eyes. "So..."
"So..." Angel replied, wondering if she was going to -- what had she said about unwanted advances the night before? -- bash his balls in.
She grinned. "Wanna do it again?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel
"I don't want to go!" Cordelia wailed, flopping down on Xander's cot without regard for her hair.
From his chair by the table, Oz gave Cordelia a stern look. "You have to go. You're the only one of us who's seen those vampires." He seemed to have had a lot of practice dealing with her while they were alone together all day.
Buffy, sitting on Oz's bed next to Xander, smiled at Cordelia. "The first time I walked into a den of vampires, I was scared, too, but I promise I'll protect you."
"It'll be fine," Xander assured her. "All you have to do is give the pub the once over and see if you recognize anyone, while we ask the bartender about Spike."
Cordelia sat back up, arching an eyebrow at Buffy and Xander. Apparently the bitch was back. "Fine! I'll go, but you guys really owe me one, and you'd better remember that." She stood and walked into the bathroom with her purse, and began fixing her hair and makeup.
Buffy grinned at Xander. "Yeah, saving her life twice just isn't adequate pay back for going on a reconnaissance mission with us."
Xander just shook his head. "She's Cordelia Chase. What can I say?" Shooting a glance toward the bathroom to make sure Cordelia wasn't in earshot, he leaned down and whispered to Buffy, "Did I tell you that when we were little me, Willow and my friend Jesse had this club? It was called the We Hate Cordelia Club. I was the treasurer."
Buffy smothered a laugh, "Really? That's classic!" She paused long enough to control her giggles, and then added, "But, you know, she's really not *all* bad. I mean, I think there are reasons why she acts the way she does." Her mind flitted to the callous letter Mr. Chase had left for his daughter before jaunting off to Belgium, leaving Cordelia abandoned in England.
"Tell me that *after* we get done with this mission," Xander challenged her. "If you can."
Giles cleared his throat from where he sat at the table between Oz and Joyce. "If you two are finished with your private conversation..."
"Yes, sir," Buffy answered guiltily, and she and Xander straightened up and began to pay attention. Cordelia stood in the doorway of the bathroom, listening and combing her hair simultaneously.
"Now," Giles said, "you three are to go straight to the pub, and come straight back when you are finished. I've made you a map, and listed what stop you're to get off at when you take the Tube."
Buffy nodded. "Right. We can handle it."
"What are you guys going to do while we're gone?" Xander asked.
"I'm manning the phone," Oz answered briefly. His eyes flickered from Xander to the phone sitting on the table next to him. He hadn't been more than three feet from it all day.
"And I'll be here to keep Oz company," Joyce, the self-appointed moral officer of the group, added.
Everyone looked to Giles. "I will be in the other room meeting with my defense counselor for the tribunal. We have much to go over before the proceedings start tomorrow."
Buffy's brow furrowed as she looked at her Watcher. "But what about the letter? It said to trust no one. Do you really think you can trust this Wesley guy? He looked kind of clueless to me, but that could just be an act. He might be a spy."
"I don't know," Giles admitted with a sigh. "Wesley seems trustworthy enough, if a little jumpy. I'm not sure what to think of that letter either. It could be a warning, or it could be a huge hoax. We shouldn't distrust too much until we have some proof."
"So you keep saying," Buffy muttered, wondering how much more proof was needed than a kidnapping and a letter from the inside. But she didn't contradict him. She would wait and challenge him on this after they got back from the pub. Hopefully, either Spike would be there and have some lead, or Cordelia would recognize one of her attackers so Buffy could torture him until he admitted who hired him.
There was a knock on the door. Giles stood up and opened it. Wesley came into the room. "Good evening all," he said, nodding to each person in the room. "Buffy, good to see you again. Rupert..." He paused when his eyes landed on Cordelia. "Oh... er... hello... I don't believe we've met..."
Cordelia turned on her mega-watt smile, as she did any time a man, even a mildly attractive one, entered the room. "I'm Cordelia Chase."
"Wesley..." Wesley stammered, tripping over his own tongue. "Wesley Price-Windham, I mean Wesley Windham-Price. Pleased to meet you..."
Giles shook his head, and sighed. Then he said, "Wesley, let's go into the other room where we can talk more privately."
"Oh... er... of course, Rupert." Wesley turned to follow Giles out the door, pausing at the threshold for one last glance at Cordelia. "Hope to see you... all... again soon."
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief once Wesley was gone. She didn't want him to know what was going on, just in case he was a spy. She looked at her mother. "You know the cover story, in case Wesley notices we're gone?"
Joyce nodded. "You got hungry. Went out for a late dinner." Joyce stood and gave Buffy a tight hug. "I know I always say this, but be careful sweetie."
Returning the hug, Buffy said, "I always am, Mom."
"I know," Joyce replied. "I just have to say it. It's a mother's job."
They shared a quick smile of understanding, and then Buffy turned to Cordelia and Xander. "Everybody ready?"
"Yeah..." Cordelia agreed, putting her comb back in her purse.
"Got your weapons?" Buffy asked, double checking that she had her two knives and several stakes scattered about her person, especially in the pockets of her denim jacket.
"Check," Xander replied, patting the pockets of his leather jacket. Cordelia stuffed a stake in her purse, though Buffy didn't know what Cordelia would do with it.
"All right," Buffy said. "Let's go." She let Xander and Cordelia precede her out the door. She paused by Oz's chair. "We're going to get a lead if I have to tear that pub down brick by brick."
Oz nodded. "I hope so."
She flashed what she hoped was an encouraging smile at him, and then she followed Xander and Cordelia out of the hotel.