Duct Tape

Megan@Midnight

Takes place immediately after Fade Away.

After a few minutes Drusilla goes quiet through the hardwood door. Sands and Spike sit at the table in the living room facing each other. Sands is leaning forward, as always, his chair set so he can watch the door. Spike had watched in bemusement when Sands, after kicking in the door to escape Spike's mad sire, duct taped the edges of the door shut. When asked, Sands said "Duct tape, it's good for everything," and laughed.

"It's late, pet." It's nearly three.

"I'm aware." Sands goes back to watching the table. After a while he looks up, blues eyes meeting Spike's own. "Will you keep coming back?" No inflection at all. Blank voice. Cold eyes.

"Don't know." Spike considers saying more, but doesn't. He'll come back as long he can. He's not sure how long that'll be. Has no idea if this is fixable.

Sands is about to get up, leave before this discussion devolves into something meaningful, when there's a solid thud against the door. Like someone trying to kick the door in for the second time that night. It's amazing what a roll of duct tape will do to increase the strength of a door. A loud curse follows the thump. "I'm assuming that's not your girlfriend." He says as he pulls his guns and moves behind the counter in a crouch. Spike joins him more for solidarity than anything. "She can't get through the door. You didn't invite her in."

"I didn't invite you in either."

"She's undead. I'm completely dead." There's another thump and more cursing. More than one than one voice as well. "Will they be coming in the windows next?"

Sands shakes his head. "No, they'll do that." Spike sticks his head up through the counter to see the point of a very sharp knife cutting through the dull silver tape.

"Ahh."

"Are they through yet?" Sands says from below Spike.

"Almost."

"Good. It's the big dance number and this time I'm leading." Spike can hear the smirk. "Get down," Sands orders and waves a hand through Spike's lower back as if to pull him down.

The blonde pulls back down beside the CIA agent. "Now what?"

The front door opens and Sands pops up, guns in hand and blasts the first two men through the door.

"Oh." Spike watches Sands throw himself across the hallway and rolls through the open doorway into the bedroom. Another CIA agent sticks his head in the front door and drops flat as Sands fires wildly in the direction of the door without looking. Spike can hear the man's laughter. "Bugger this. I'm not missing all the fun!"

The five CIA agents still standing are more cautious than their two former associates and haven't entered the door yet. It's a bit of a surprise to them when a dark haired woman walks up from behind them shaking her finger. "That's very naughty children. Have to go in. There won't be any fun if you don't." The nearest person to her, a woman named Falson, shoots Drusilla in the chest. Drusilla goes game face. "Bad girl. Now mummy will have to put you in time out." The woman fires twice more before Dru is on her. The other agents are watching in horror as Drusilla lifts up her head and lick blood off her lips. The dead body drops to the floor and is ignored by the vampire. "Who wants to play next?" And smiles. The other agents plunge through the door. And one is dead from a bullet in the forehead, but the other three fire on Sands' position and he withdraws back into the bedroom.

"Shit!"

"Got that right, mate," Spike says as he steps into the hallway. The three survivors take aim at him. Sands is being quiet and Spike suspects he's enjoying this. "You don't want to be doing that." And walks into the nearest man and spins around, so his face and the CIA agent's face are near merged. And goes game face. The two against the wall open fire. As the dead man falls off Spike, he smirks. "That was really stupid, loves. See you've got a real problem. See you are here to get him," he indicates the bedroom, from which the dead vampire can hear soft snickering. "He doesn't plan on being gotten. There's only two of you. If you try to leave, the pretty lady outside will eat you. If you don't, the beauty in the bedroom will shoot you. And enjoy it."

Sands comes out of the bedroom, guns out and ready. Spike continues, "So you see, I'd put them down, gents. Otherwise you haven't got a prayer."

The taller of the two raises his hands. "All right. All right." The shorter one follows his example.

Sheldon Sands smiles darkly. "Pray all you like, fuckwits." His aim is dead on. Twin holes appear in the two men's foreheads. Whatever else you can say about him, Sheldon Jeffrey Sands is a dead shot with both hands. "I'm not a fucking priest. Today, anyway."

"Can I have another?" Drusilla asks from behind the invitation only barrier.

"Sorry, love. I think we got them all." Spike responds and he doesn't have to see Dru to know the pout on her face.

"Oh." Sands throws the lightest of the dead men into the hallway. "Ooh, dollies," Drusilla says and Sands laughs with her as he dumps the rest through the doorway, being very careful not to stick a hand or other body part that belongs to him through.

"So now what?" Spike says softly, watching Sheldon try to get blood out of the carpet.

He looks up. Well, tomorrow I'm going to have to get another door."

"What happens after this?" Spike can't suppress a bit a of irritation. His soul is pinging at the fact that eight people have died. He's doing his best to ignore it. And what ever Drusilla is doing with t eeight dead bodies Sands has given her to play with.

"Now, we wait." Sands is still smirking, though currently he's smirking at the carpet.

"For what, pet?"

Sands looks up from the bloodstain. "We wait for them to come to me."

"What was that, then?" Spikes tosses his head at all the carnage in the apartment, bloodstained walls, bullet holes, red all over the carpet.

"The opening number," Sands says and goes back to working on the carpet.