You know when I started this I said it was going to be a nice little short story about Doyle getting kidnapped. And look what happened! I ended up getting a plot and sub-plots and all kinds of complicating things! Oh well, the best laid plans as they say. Thanks for the mega good reviews and these characters don't belong to me. Here's the next chappie.
To Catch a Thief by Robinyj
"Here we are now, entertain us.
Here we are now….
Here we are now ….
Here we are now …."
"No, don't frost the pie. Don't kill the baker, he makes such sweet rolls. Yeah, I'm bloody sure," Spike mumbled in his sleep, turning to cuddle further into the seat. The tape had reached its end but the vampire still slept soundly, oblivious to what was going on outside. He was suddenly awakened when he attempted to shift his feet to a more comfortable position and found there was nowhere for them to go in the cramped van. He looked around for a moment, unsure where he was. Then he remembered.
"Angel, that sodding git," he stretched, "Wonder when he's showing up anyway." Moving into the back of the van Spike looked through the back windows and saw two limousines parked directly in front of him. He could clearly see the backs of a few guys in fancy suits and when he crouched down low he thought he saw the bottom of Angel's shoes.
"Looks like the fun's about to begin!" he heard Angel shout, for what didn't seem the first time.
"Hmm, think I'm late." Spike decided as he moved back to the front seat and pushed the keys into the ignition.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|
Angel's gaze flicked over his opponents, working the odds in his head. Humans. That made it easier. They were armed though and probably trained. Six were heading in his direction, while two went after Oz, knowing the werewolf was less of a threat. Oz wasn't trained in any way but had been fighting evil for awhile and hopefully could take care of himself.
When none of the men came closer Angel smirked and baited them on, "Come on, my bite's worse than my bark."
This spurred them on. Two men came forward at once, one with a stake, another a cross. Angel easily kicked the cross from the first guard's hand and then straight-punched the second with the stake. As the two men fell he saw another one behind them aiming a funny looking gun. Bullets couldn't kill Angel but he still moved out of the way when he fired. Surprisingly it wasn't a bullet that left the barrel, but what looked like an electrified dart; probably not good.
"You fellows on a budget or something? Can't afford bullets?" Angel taunted. The ones he had knocked down got back up and were joined by their comrades. They were poised to attack but then they all stopped dead at the sound of metal crunching and a woman screaming.
Spike grinned and lit himself a cigarette.
"Fun's going to begin all right," he muttered as he gunned the van into reverse. He didn't go far before the vehicle slammed into the side of one of the limousines, crushing it nicely.
Lilah screamed inside of the car and braced herself against the door as the metal frame around her caved in. After a few moments, when nothing else happened she opened the door, with a little effort, and escaped the ruined vehicle. She fell to the ground in a heap, clutching what she thought was the ring of Amara and desperate to escape whatever had attacked her.
Spike took a long drag off his smoke and jumped out of the van. He swaggered to the back and leaped onto the limousine roof in one jump, duster billowing behind him. All eyes were on him, good guy and bad alike. He stomped out his cigarette and moved gracefully off the car.
"I'm glad that everyone's here 'cause now the real party's going to start, 'cause guessed who just showed up? It's the Big Baaaahhhh!!!" Spike shouted in pain as his introduction was interrupted by a stun bolt to the chest, courtesy of Lilah's personal guard. The electric shock raced through his body and he slammed into the side of the car then slumped to the ground.
Angel rolled his eyes and thought, "At least he showed up." Then he took advantage of the situation. While all eyes were on Spike, he moved faster than the men circling him could turn around. He double punched a black suit in the face twice, easily knocking him out, then sidestepped a series of kicks from a second guard who was moving to help his co-worker. With complete nonchalance Angel kicked the man below the belt, then, when he was bent over, delivered an upper cut that finished the job.
Oz had taken advantage of Spike's distraction as well. When the van crashed into the limousine his first thought had been, "I just got the paint right too" but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Stepping forward he slammed a guard across the face with a forearm and then, while he was off balance, threw the man into a concrete pillar, knocking him out. Then Oz was suddenly launched forward as the second man tackled him from behind while his back was turned. The two hit the ground hard and Oz had the wind knocked out of him but still began struggling. The man who had taken him down was wiry but muscular and pulled himself up onto his knees after they hit the ground. Oz rolled over and tried to throw a punch but the guard blocked it and struck the werewolf hard across the face. He was stunned for a moment and continued the fight on instinct. Reaching out, his hands grasped his attacker's forearms and they rolled on the ground, each fighting to gain the upper hand. They continued to roll, neither one gaining the advantage until the guard landed on top once more and effectively pinned Oz to the ground with his bodyweight.
Oz continued to struggle and knew desperate measures would have to be taken soon or he was finished.
"Do you know what I am?" He asked breathlessly.
The black suit smirked, "Werewolf. You're powerless during the day."
"Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into," Oz replied, a deep sadness in his eyes. This took the guard by surprise and when he slacked off his grip slightly the musician leaned forward and bit him hard on the arm, drawing blood. The man yelped in surprise and rolled off him. Then he stood, staring at his arm and it was clear he understood what had just been done to him.
Oz stood up and spit out blood, disgusted again by what he was, "Sorry. Full moon is in six nights, don't miss it." Then he reached down, picked up a stun gun and shot the shocked man before he could reply.
"Oh Doyle. Come on, you have to work with me here. Open your eyes; do something!" Cordelia pleaded but Doyle still did not respond. His body was just too drained. As soon as he had fallen into the safe hands of his friends, he had shut down, mentally and physically and did not appear to wish to awaken. But Cordelia wished he would wake up. Wished it badly, because there was a lot of fighting going on around them and she really didn't think they were in a good spot.
"Doyle open your eyes, help me, okay? We have to move and I can't carry you, and I don't want to hurt you any more than you are and ah!" Cordelia jumped in surprise as an unconscious guard was thrown into the wall next to them. She knew it had been done by Angel, but when she turned she saw that the vampire still had his hands full, fighting back nearly half a dozen men.
"Okay, gotta get a weapon, gotta move," Cordy whispered as she patted Doyle's shoulder awkwardly, assuring him she'd be back, then crawled towards the unconscious stranger beside her. When she was next to him she looked him over, he didn't appear to be moving, and then patted him down, but there were no weapons to be found.
"Damn," she thought, then looked down and saw one of their gun things lying next to him. She smiled and crawled over the man then picked up the gun slowly, looking it over as she did so and wondering how it worked. Footsteps behind her reminded her of the fight still going on and she turned around in time to see a wide shouldered henchman leave the pack of Angel's adversaries and head towards Doyle.
"No! Hold it!" Cordelia called out, but the man ignored her, his intentions clear as he lowered his own weapon towards the helpless Doyle. Fumbling, but moving fast, Cordelia brought up the gun she now held and rapidly fired off two shots. The first went wide but the second hit the man squarely on the left shoulder. He jerked in surprise and then fell unconscious to the floor.
The force of the gun knocked Cordy on her behind, but she quickly recovered and scrambled back over to Doyle.
"Or we could just stay here, you know." She stroked his hair self-consciously and his eyes began to flicker open.
"Princess?"
Lilah scrambled to her feet, scared for the first time. There was fighting going on all around her and she had lost her mode of transportation. She looked to the exit and considered running, but it seemed so undignified and impossible in the heels and skirt she had on. Suddenly a hand appeared in her vision and she thankfully took it. Sky lifted her up and she regained her cool demeanour after seeing the calm look on his face.
"Can you take care of this?" She asked, indicating her group of troubles. Spike was unconscious, Angel was wiping the floor with her guards, the werewolf had taken out a few men, and Cordy and Doyle were still crouched on the hard pavement. Sky looked over the situation and then nodded confidently.
"Good," Lilah said, then held up the ring Angel had given her, "Because I have to get this back to my boss. Do whatever you have to." She ordered. Sky smiled and turned from her, already muttering incantations under his breath. Finally calm and thinking clearly Lilah made her way to the second, undamaged, limousine they had brought and got in.
"Are we leaving Ms. Morgan?" the driver asked when she was settled. Lilah looked out the window and saw the crashed van and limo blocking off most of the exit. It would have been possible to get out, but risky.
"No, let's stick around for a minute, see how things turn out. We're safe enough in here." Then again, that was what she had thought about the last limo.
"Doyle. You're alive. You're awake. You're … looking very icky," Cordy exclaimed.
"You know I really missed these deep, meaningful talks of ours," Doyle quipped as he tried to raise his head to see the fight that he could hear happening, "What's going on?
"Wolfram & Hart are jerks and are trying to kill us. Angel and Oz are handling it though, I think," Cordy assured him. She turned and saw Oz bite one of the guards to get free from him and decided Doyle really didn't need to be bothered with this right now so moved into his line of vision to block his view of the fight.
"Can you get up?" She asked softly. Doyle, despite his massive headache that made it hurt to think, was genuinely touched by the sincerity and concern in her voice.
"Think so," he said, admittedly trying to act tough in front of her despite feeling like shit. He made it halfway into a sitting position before a paralyzing flash of pain ricocheted through his spine. He changed his mind, "I don't think so."
It was clear Cordy didn't know what to do but still wanted to be of some help, "Oh, okay then. Well, just lie back down and we'll wait for Angel to take care of everything. Then … then … we'll get you fixed up and everything will be great. It'll be just great, like Frosted Flakes great."
Doyle lowered himself back down, enjoying hearing Cordy rant, then his attention was drawn across they room, "Hey, is that Spike?"
Cordy looked too, "Oh yeah, he's part of the plan. Angel's tricked him, it's all good."
He gave her a clearly confused glance and was about to ask more when the parking lot was suddenly filled with an ear piercing scream of pain from across the room.
Sky looked over the scene before him and tried to decide which nuisance to take care of first. The werewolf, the vampire, or the helpless by-standers? Even though he knew he should probably take care of Angel first, his eyes set on Doyle and Cordelia. He had already had a lot of fun with the brachen demon after all, and he wanted to play with it some more.
Focussing completely on the couple across the lot, he brought up his hands and drew several ancient symbols in the air while he chanted and black magic gathered at his fingertips, "Neterof gondamet zintoth. Neterof gondamet zintoth. Neterof gond….Uh!"
Before he finished the spell he felt the wind knocked out of him as he was forced roughly onto the cold concrete. At the same moment another body fell on top of him, crushing his ribcage even more. Seconds later, when his eyes could focus he looked up to see the person who had tackled him as they got back to their feet. He gritted his teeth in anger: the werewolf.
"Don't you know you're not supposed to kick people while they're down?" Oz asked, then delivered a kick to the warlock's ribs. "Of course, there are exceptions."
Oz pulled back his foot again, aiming his next kick for the warlock's head, knowing if he was unconscious his magicks were useless, but the blow never landed.
Rolling swiftly out of the way, Oz learned too late that the sorcerer was faster than the average human and had an easily excited temper. After he moved out of the way Sky turned to glare at the werewolf and in that instant his pure blue eye became an encompassing black as his fury rose. His body resonating with black energy Sky brought up his hands and snarled a single word as Oz moved to attack him once more.
"Kartoth."
A spark of black energy erupted from Sky's pointed fingertip and flew directly towards Oz's face. An inhuman howl of pain erupted from him as he fell to the ground, hands clutching his burning eyes.
Angel dived, twisted, kicked and punched, not at all happy with the way the fight was going. He was winning of course, these humans were no match for him, but the going was slow. It was hard to simultaneously avoid so many stakes, crosses and stun guns as these men had and he found himself having to become creative with his fighting, by purposely causing one guard to shoot another for example.
Out of his peripheral vision he had seen Cordelia take out one of Wolfram and Hart's henchmen to protect Doyle and, not that she hadn't done a great job, he had then backed up to protect them better. Spike had proven to be no help at all, except to provide a distraction, and Oz was holding his own across the parking lot. At least he had thought he was. Suddenly Angel wasn't so sure when he heard a blood-curdling scream of pain echo through the building. He turned to Doyle and Cordy first, worried another henchman had reached them without him noticing, but then he saw both their concerned gazes focussed across the room. Doyle even attempted to stand but Cordelia held him down easily.
Angel turned, roughly back-fisting a crony as he did so, and saw Oz on his knees, clearly in horrible pain. The warlock stood over him, looking far too satisfied. Switching into vamp face, Angel spun once with a huge roundhouse kick and knocked out his last two attackers and then sprinted hard across the parking lot. When he saw a cloud of dark power spiral around Sky's fingers once more, he wondered if he would be in time to help Oz, or if he would lose another precious friend.
Sky rose completely to his feet, enjoying the sight of the musician writhing in pain. Oz howled again, this time more guttural than before. He felt as though his eyes had been burned from their sockets, the pain was so intense. His palms were pushed hard against his face and somewhere in his calm center that he couldn't seem to find, he knew that his eyes were still there and intact because he felt no blood on his cheeks or hands. It had to have been an illusion or some sort of psychic suggestion. But for now, in his decidedly uncalm state, he could only scream and shudder, for the agony was all too real.
The warlock brushed dust off his robe and watched Oz, amused. He would have liked to torment him some more, cause some truly permanent damage, but he had other matters to attend to. With an unnecessary flourish, Sky twirled his finger and a swirl of black energy appeared, prepared to finish off the lycanthrope. He needed only to say the words.
But the words would not come. Behind him, impossibly fast hands reached out, took hold of his head and snapped his neck in one fluid motion.
Angel threw away the lifeless form of the warlock without a second thought, knowing he was dead and glad. Oz remained on the ground, still groaning with his hands pressed against face; unfortunately, the effects of Sky's magick had not dissipated along with his life-force. Angel looked around him, saw all of Wolfram and Hart's lackies were dead or unconscious, and then knelt down beside Oz, but he was unsure how close to get to him. It was obvious the blond musician was lost in the pain, totally unaware of his surroundings, and Angel didn't want to frighten him further.
"Oz, what's wrong? Can you talk to me?" Angel asked, still a reasonable distance away, but close enough to touch him if he reached out. Oz moaned again, rolled onto his knees and dropped his forehead down against the cold concrete. One hand crept up to run through his hand but the other remained clenched tightly over his eyes.
"Oh god."
It was whispered so softly that Angel almost missed it, but the simple statement at least meant Oz was cognitive enough to speak a little. He immediately pushed himself forward and rested, what he hoped, to be a comforting hand on the werewolf's shoulder.
"All right, take your time. You'll be okay, just breathe," Angel muttered, unaccustomed to the role forced upon him. He didn't do comfort well. Beneath his hand he could feel Oz's body trembling from pain and shock. His breath was coming in, in ragged, deep gasps as he tried to wait out the pain, but it was lasting an eternity. Without warning the hand that he had been running through his hair reached out and latched onto Angel's upper arm like a lifeline and an anguished sob tore from Oz's throat. Angel knew that Oz wasn't one for making a scene, which meant that he must be in horrible pain to be acting like this.
"It's okay, I'm here. Just hold on, okay?" Angel requested, but there was nothing else he could do to help him. He looked behind him and cursed himself for having killed the warlock so quickly, not thinking that they may need him to undo whatever he had done, because it didn't seem to be wearing off. Across the lot of motionless guards he could see Cordelia helping Doyle, who was now conscious, into a sitting position. They were already fighting, typical. Over all things could have gone worse, Doyle was safe anyway, he figured, but looking down at Oz he knew they could have gone better too.
Just then the hand gripping his arm relaxed a little. Oz slowly pushed himself up on one arm, the other was covering his face. His breathing was still harsh and uneven, but the moaning had stopped. Angel could only hope that whatever the sorcerer had done, it was wearing off.
"Oz, can you talk to me?" Angel asked, speaking in the respectful hushed tones that one used when someone was hurt.
After several more deep breaths Oz replied, through gritted teeth, "Yeah."
"You going to be okay?" It sounded like a stupid question, even to him, but he could think of nothing else to ask.
"Don't know. Really hurts," Oz admitted weakly then dropped his head back down to the ground as if exhausted from the few simple words. "Just give me a minute."
"Take your time." Angel could wait. After all Oz had done to help them, Angel could definitely wait.
Another moan suddenly drew Angel's attention and he looked up to see Spike finally waking up. He shook his head groggily and then looked around; he seemed disappointed that he had missed the fight. At the same time the undamaged limousine revved its engine and forced its way past the earlier collision towards the exit. Looking up, Spike saw the car getting away and leapt to his feet with surprising quickness.
"Oh no you don't you bloody sods. That's my ring!" Spike shouted as he ran, actually catching up to the limousine. He had almost made it to the bumper, was three steps away from jumping onto the trunk, when the car raced into the sunlight waiting outside. Spike screeched to a halt mere inches from the daylight, and barely stopped himself from becoming a toaster pastry. He cursed loudly and ran back the way he had come, thinking he would jump into Oz's van and give chase, but that plan was ruined when he was in sight of the fight scene that he had missed. The van was practically trashed; it would never catch the limousine. He cursed loudly again and stomped towards Angel who was helping Oz into a sitting position.
Spike reached out and grabbed Angel's shoulder, pulling him up and turning him around at the same time. Angel automatically brought up a fist but lowered it when he saw it was Spike.
"They're gettin' away!" Spike exclaimed, appalled.
"So what? Let them go," Angel ordered, turning back to Oz, who was still shielding his eyes.
Spike grabbed his shoulder and spun him around again, "They've got my ring. We had a deal, so unless you get that ring back for me, right now, you can consider your friends worm food."
Angel growled, not in the mood to hear his friends be threatened, and picked up Spike by the lapels once more, "That's not gonna happen. You're going to leave me alone, leave Buffy alone, and leave Wolfram and Hart alone. Also, you're gonna leave LA, and go somewhere else, anywhere else but Sunnydale, and you're never going to come back. You got it?"
"And why would I want to do a thing like that?" Spike asked, cocky as always as he shook himself free.
Angel reached into his pocket, "Cause if you don't, you won't get this."
In his hand he held the ring of Amara (another one of the reasonable facsimiles Cordelia had found anyway) which immediately grabbed Spike's attention. Smiling, he took a step back and held out his hand expectantly, "Well, when you put it that way."
Angel did not smile back, "Remember Spike, we had a deal. You break that deal and I'm going to hunt you down, and what you did to me earlier today will look like a game of chess compared to what I'll do to you."
"Yeah, I got it, my ring," Spike requested, not the least bit put off. Angel gave it to him.
"Now go."
"Gladly," Spike's smile widened as he slipped the ring on and took a deep breath, as if he were a new person.
Angel seemed satisfied and turned back to Oz who was trying to rise on his own with his eyes still clenched shut. Moving slowly, Angel reached out and took his arm to help him.
"How you doing?" Angel asked, relieved to hear Spike walking away behind him, whistling merrily.
"I think it's wearing off," Oz replied. Though his eyes were shut, he had moved his hands from his face. Angel couldn't see any damage there, his face looked normal, although tear streaked from the pain.
"I think you'll be okay, your van's this way," Angel began to lead him but Oz wouldn't budge.
"Doyle? Cordy?" He asked, having not heard from either of them.
"They're okay," Angel said, looking to see Cordy attempting to help Doyle to his feet. "Actually, stay here a second, I think they need a hand."
Oz nodded, unable to do anything else. The pain was still there in his eyes and he knew opening them so they could be bombarded with light would make it that much worse, so for now he kept them closed.
Angel jogged over to the odd couple and immediately pulled Doyle's arm over his shoulder to steady him.
"What's wrong with Oz?" Cordy asked immediately, clearly worried.
"The warlock did something to him, we think it's wearing it off though. Why don't you go help him out, I got Doyle," Angel assured her. She looked at Doyle with the softest look yet, then nodded and moved to help Oz.
"How's little Bam Bam really doing?" Doyle asked when they began their slow limp towards the van.
"Bam Bam?" Angel questioned before answering.
"Long story."
"No way to tell really, we'll have to see. I think it'll wear off. I hope so anyway. How are you?" Angel asked seriously.
"Bloody tired but I think I'll be all right. Just need some rest is all. And scotch, lots of scotch. And you're going to get it for me cause Spike stole all mine, the son of a bitch," Doyle's voice held pure venom and Angel winced. He had basically let Spike go with a warning, having not felt it a good time to get into a life or death brawl with him.
"I'll get you some good stuff."
"Good stuff? It better be as old as you to make up for this day," Doyle grunted as they continued to stagger along. They soon made it to Oz's van, which really wasn't in that bad a shape other than the crushed bumper. The engine still ran and Cordy and Oz were in the front seat.
When they approached Cordy got out and announced rather gravely, "We have a problem."
It was then Angel noticed that Oz's eyes were open, and he turned to the vampire with a frighteningly blank gaze.
"I'm blind."
TBC
With a cliffie like that I better be extra special nice to my readers.
Iverson – I like Oz being there too. I'm thinking of writing another fic with him in it, it's just hard to find reasons for him to be in LA. I'm considering writing one where he goes back there after he leaves Sunnydale after the Veruca thing, but I have to finish this one first obviously.
IceBlueRose – Ah, what a nice review. I'm glad you're enjoying. It's cool that we like all the same characters. Go us!
Tap Dancing Widow – lol, man, if you thought he was dumb last chapter I can't wait to hear what you think of him now!
Caytlyn88 – Ha! That was a nothing cliffhanger. If you read any of my LotR fics you know I'm horrible for cliffies, I love writing 'em.
Vivid Butterfly – Yeah, early seasons Spike is a dork, but he becomes much less dorky as the series continued. He was just a lovesick fool really.
Templa Otmena – yep, no more warlock. Oz did his best, but he couldn't get the job done. Saved Doyle and Cordy though. Hope you don't mind the cliffie (I seem to be apologizing for it so much already) but the fic is starting to wind down now and I had to get some suspense in there somewhere.
Connor assassin – nope, not full moon. Oz is just feeling a little brave this evening.
Thanks for the reviews, glad to hear from all of you. Just a little bit of fic left. Robinyj ^_^