Severed Ties

Chapter 35

Advanced Tactics

Los Angeles

Four hours earlier

He glanced at the files and back to Fred. Her eyes never wavered though the timid smile on her face--yeah, that was his girl--told Gunn all he needed to know. Still, he had to voice the question if only for him to hear the response himself.

"You're kidding me, right? This is like one of those April Fool's jokes without the April though."

"Everything is there, Charles," she said and gently took the file from his outstretched hand. She rifled through the papers, searching for the official request. She found it and, holding it up for him to see, read, "Denzel Washington formerly requests our services, starting July 31st, 2002." She dangled the letter, complete with letterhead of the actor's agent printed clearly at the top.

Gunn snatched the paper from Fred and held it with both hands in a grip as if it would disappear if he didn't. "Denzel wants us? Seriously, he wants us?"

Fred smiled, one of those smiles that lit his soul on fire, and she leaned over the desk separating them. "Evidently, aside from the complications of assimilating off the street gang members into 'Training Day', there were some local disturbances of a supernatural nature that disrupted filming."

He frowned and leaned against the desk, letting it support the bulk of his weight. "That's funny, cause I sure don't remember seeing any headlines about gangbangin' ghosts wreckin' havoc on the set?"

Fred rolled her eyes and he mocked the gesture. "Gee, Charles, I wonder why. It's not like the public is really going to believe that."

"Not like it wouldn't be good for a bit of publicity."

"If it was about ghosts and demons I'd agree…although that would probably come off as staged and more than a little self serving and it would more likely hurt the opening and…"

"Fred, honey," Gunn said and kissed his girlfriend flush on the lips. When he pulled away, her breath came in jagged gasps, mirroring the steady pulse of his heart. His libido was in full force and it was taking a big-time effort not to take her right here on the desk. If Angel didn't hurry back soon, there was gonna be some surprised customers one of these days.

"Can we please turn down the lust vibes, Sweet Cheeks," Lorne said as he sauntered in the room, Martini in hand. One look in his direction and Gunn was cured from feeling said vibes. Possibly ever again.

Dressed in a lime green suit that was an eerie compliment to his skin tone and a tie that matched his blood red shoes and eyes, the demon was more than just a fashion wreck, he was just…

"Horrible," Fred said and Gunn snickered. Rarely did his girl ever diss on someone, yet as badly dressed as the Pylean was today, well, there was no holding back.

Lorne, of course, was undeterred. "Just because you two can't seem to appreciate the intricacies of fashion as it is in showbiz, don't go raining on my parade."

"It'd take a lot more than rain to drown out the pain I'm feelin' at lookin' at that, my man," Gunn said and shivered. He started glancing through some of the other files as Fred and Lorne made idle chit chat. Let them have their peace, Gunn was still reeling from the prospects of working alongside Denzel. Denzel, he thought and grinned. Not only did the actor know of AI, but asking for their express written assistance, personally no less. Okay, so it wasn't addressed to one Charles Gunn but did it matter? He'd make sure to be on the case and no way was Angel gonna get in the way of that.

So enthralled by the thought of meeting his favorite actor, he never heard the door open or Lorne's warning when he started humming. The last thing Charles Gunn felt in this world was a sharp pain that exploded through his body. He heard Fred scream and turned towards her as everything fell away. His last thoughts before darkness claimed him was if she would have looked that way if he ever threw her a surprise party…

Sunnydale

11:12 pm

They spoke in hushed voices in the kitchen, every so often sneaking glances toward the silence of the living room where the former cheerleader tried to console the brunette vampire. Buffy had talked to Kate after Cordelia had dropped the phone. Gunn and Lorne had been found in the Hyperion, torn apart, and Wesley's bloodied and broken body had been found on the street, thrown from the window of his apartment. Fred's body--the waif of a girl that Angel had rescued from a demon dimension not two years ago--had yet to be found. The detective had sworn she would get back with them as soon as she could, and offered her condolences before hanging up.

Buffy's eyes swept around the room, taking in the shape of its occupants. Xander and Faith leaned against the sink, the young man's arms wrapped around his slayer. Jay and Dawn sat next to one another, their fingers interlaced in sisterly comfort. Giles had stayed at his apartment, exhausting his resources to find those responsible for this. He'd tried to ask Angel if they had crossed any powerful demons recently and the vampire had responded by simply handing the phone off to Cordelia. Buffy herself sat on the island with the platinum blonde vampire leaning against the wall opposite her. He hadn't looked at her since they'd entered the kitchen but she felt his eyes on her when her attention was elsewhere. She'd wanted to call him on it but doing so seemed so selfish and the Slayer held her tongue.

"Who could've done this?" Dawn asked, breaking the silence. "I mean, I know demons but why--well, aside from just doing it."

"I wish I knew, Dawnster," Xander said and visibly tightened his hold on Faith. "And as much as I'd like to think it's a random hit, something's telling me it's not."

Everyone nodded their assent but Buffy was the only one to voice the concern. "Do you think it has something to do with what's coming?"

"No doubt about it, pet," Spike replied, his voice eerily calm. "My money's on the wankers Shadow and the whelp here saved you from a fortnight ago."

"But why?" she asked and for the first time in hours, his cerulean eyes dug into hers.

"Don't rightly know, but I'd wager at them thinning the herd a bit, increasin their odds when it comes down to the rhubarb. Reckon we should warn Red and Glinda, too."

Buffy's eyes widened and she felt guilty for not thinking of her friends sooner. She hopped off the island to retrieve the phone when bitter laughter cascaded through the hall.

"Don't pretend like you care," Angel said, his baritone voice drawing everyone's attention to the door.

"Angel," Cordelia said and grabbed him by the elbow. The vampire shook her off and took two more steps toward Spike. The younger vamp frowned, unsure where the hostility was coming from. In fact, his expression was similar to her own and Buffy tried to slide in between the two.

"What are you goin on about, mate?" Spike asked and cocked his head to the side.

Angel's glare burned everyone in the room, the contentious sneer accompanying it had everyone but Faith turning away.

"Angel, what's going on?" The brunette glanced at Cordelia. "You didn't by chance give him a quick happy, did you?" The seer rolled her eyes and moved fully into the kitchen. She looked up at the vampire with a sympathetic question hanging from her lips.

"Angel, don't do this," she pled. "Spike's trying to help here."

He glanced down at Cordelia with enough disdain to cause her to stumble backwards and in that moment Buffy thought that Angelus had indeed returned.

"Help? Spike trying to help? Since when has he done anything that doesn't benefit himself? Are we all forgetting about the vampire bitch he let bite him."

"But he's sorry for it," Jay said and stood. Buffy saw that only Dawn's grip on her hand had prevented the young woman from attacking the vampire. Her cerulean green jewels pulsed with anger and, for one instant, Buffy thought she saw the amber tint of vampire eyes. She dismissed it quickly, blaming it on the angle the light hit her daughter's eyes.

"Do you really believe that?" Angel snorted and stepped forward, crowding Spike's personal space. "Do you really believe that he's sorry for letting that vamp suck him off and feed from him?" Brown eyes turned to Spike. "He's just sorry he got caught."

"That's not true!" Jay yelled and tears leaked from her eyes. "He didn't mean for it to happen, he didn't."

Angel tsked and Buffy cringed at the condescension in the gesture. "Do you really believe that? If so, you're as naïve as your mother is on that."

"Ho, now, Peaches," Spike said and Buffy saw the anger bubbling to the surface. "No need to go lambastin everyone else over your grief."

"Spike," Buffy said but Angel silenced her with a growl directed at the bleached blonde.

"Don't you talk to me about grief, boy. You know nothing about it. All you know about is throwing fits when you don't get what you want. Crying because Dru found better things to do than to be shackled around the neck by a sniveling, whiny nothing like yourself. Even in her insanity, you weren't good enough for her. What makes you think you're good enough for Buffy?" Spike blanched and before anyone could intercede, the brunette's venomous tongue struck again.

"You know you're not deserving of her but you try to play the part, don't you. Try to fit in, try to show false concern when you could give two shits about Willow and Tara." When Spike lowered his head, Angel sighed. "You're sad, William, a sad and pathetic git whose mother should have dashed his brains out while he was a babe…"

The punch came before anyone could react and by the time Buffy knew what was going on, all hell had broken loose.

Spike tried to defend himself from the verbal onslaught of his elder, but failed. He tried to brush off Angel's surgical strikes with indifference or anger but nothing worked. Just as the talk in the crypt had demonstrated, no one was as deft at hurting others with words as Angelus. Each word he spoke sapped more of Spike's strength away until his will to fight had trickled next to nothing.

Until…

"You're sad, William, a sad and pathetic git whose mother should have dashed his brains out while he was a babe…"

A rage like no other burst from the dam of his soulless core and Spike's fist slammed into Angel's face almost of its own accord. The impact knocked the larger vampire over the island and into the cabinets. Before anyone else could react, Spike hopped over the divider, landing two punches to the downed vampire before a large hand clamped around his throat.

Angel rose swiftly, though his was still unsteady from the assault. Spike clawed at the iron muscles that squeezed at his neck, tearing flesh through the leather of Angel's jacket but the other vampire's grip never lessened.

"You always hit like a woman, Willie," Angel taunted. Spike refused to submit, ignoring the shouts that reverberated from the room. Before anyone could break them apart, Spike struck again.

His left hand gripped Angel's wrist and he slammed his forearm into the brunette's elbow with all his strength. When the hold gave, he smashed the back of his fist into Angel's cheek. The vampire stumbled but when Spike tried to follow up with a right cross, Angel ducked and squeezed him around the waist. He lifted Spike off the ground and rammed the two of them with all of his might into the closest object, which just so happened to be the backdoor.

Metal and wood splintered as the two supernatural beings tumbled onto the back porch. Spike roared in pain when slivers of the door speared him through the arms and back. Angel had not gone unscathed either, and Spike winced at the giant shard of glass that had pierced the former's cheek. Sympathy was short-lived, however, and Spike's heel slammed against Angel's jaw, driving the shard deeper into his flesh. The elder vampire roared and tackled Spike and the two spilled down the steps. They rolled halfway across the yard before Spike found himself pinned underneath the hulking form of his Grandsire.

"Familiar position, William?" Angel sneered and his fist connected with Spike's face. "Losers always end up on the bottom, don't they?" Spike intercepted the next blow and before Angel could pull his fist back, the younger vampire bit into his arm.

"Arrrgggh!" Angel yelled and tried to shake Spike's hold on him but the blonde refused to let go. His free hand clawed at Spike's face but the other vampire broke his hold only when the pleading voices of his love and daughter broke through his senses. He reluctantly let go and Angel was yanked off of him while someone dragged Spike to his feet.

"What the hell was that about?" the petite, blonde whirlwind that was Buffy demanded, her emerald eyes shining with anger and unshed tears, glaring from him to Angel and back again.

"It's about this soulless demon, this liar trying to wedge his way into your lives," Angel spat.

"But you said…"

"I was wrong, Buffy. I thought Spike changed and I ignored my better judgment. Tonight was just a reminder."

"Not Spike's biggest fan here," Xander said, tentatively releasing his hold on Angel. Spike noticed that Faith, however, did not. "But since when has expressing concern for someone else been a crime?"

"It's not, if you mean it."

"If you think he doesn't care for Willow and Tara," Dawn said from where she stood next to Spike, "then it shows that you don't know him at all."

"I know him better than any of you combined," Angel sneered. He ripped his arm from Faith's grasp and the other slayer took a step towards him before Buffy waved her off. Angel stalked towards Spike and the latter knew that words designed to hurt weren't too far in coming.

"Tell them, Spike, tell them the truth. You don't care what happens to anyone besides yourself, do you? Except maybe your daughter. I'm not sure if you can even care for Buffy. Oh, sure, you want to possess her, want to own her, but do you really love her? No, don't answer that, I know you can't, cause you're a soulless demon."

Spike snorted. "Come off the white horse, Peaches. That song and dance has been beaten to bloody death. Heard the soulless speech a thousand times from the Slayer, here, and ya know what? She's singin a whole different tune cause she knows I've changed. Even the whelp does."

"That doesn't mean they're right, Willie my boy, does it? Aren't you the one that said demons didn't change?" And just like that, Spike understood.

The anger drained from his shoulders and Spike gave Angel a consoling smile. "It's not your fault, Angel."

There was no questioning the surprise that burst from Angel's face although he quickly masked it. "What are you talking about?"

"Your mates…it's not your fault."
Angel closed the distance between them and hoisted the smaller man up by the lapels of his duster. "Shut. Up."

When Buffy tried to intervene, Spike halted her with the shake of his head. He returned his attention to the angry eyes of his Grandsire. Brown eyes that burned with rage and yet pled for something that Spike was sure he couldn't give Angel and for a reason he couldn't define, Spike wished he could.

"It's not your fault that you weren't there, mate. You can't be everywhere at once."

"What do you know about anything, Spike?" Angel spat but there was a shakiness to his voice that Spike doubted anyone else heard. "What do you know about people depending on you?"

Without hesitation, blue eyes sought hazel and a heartfelt conversation passed between he and Buffy within seconds. Turning his gaze towards the vampire holding him up, Spike placed his hands on top of Angel's till he was lowered to the ground. They stood there, Angel's hands still holding him but the strength gone and Spike felt a calm settle over him.

"I know what it's like, mate, to fail someone who's depending on you and have them pay the ultimate price for you cock-up. The difference between us is that I was there when it happened, like I should've been. I just didn't get the job done…I know what you're feelin…"

"You don't know anything," Angel said, dropping his hands. There was no conviction in his voice and his brown eyes glistened in the moonlight.

"Keep tellin yourself that, mate, won't matter 'cause you know I'm right. You can't save the world and everyone in it by yourself, Angel," Spike said and glanced at Buffy. "When things go to hell and people die, you can't blame yourself. Guilt does nothing but eat at you and cripple you when you're needed again." Angel started to speak but Spike held his hands up. "I know, I don't have a soul, thus, accordin' to some, I can't get bit by the guilt bug. Bollocks! I may not feel guilty for everything I do or say, but that doesn't mean I don't feel it. It's like teeth in here--" he pounded a fist on his chest, "--and it feels as if your whole body's on fire and nothin' can release you from the pain. And the thing is, you think you deserve to feel like that and maybe sometimes you do. But this ain't one of those times, Peaches.

" 'm not gonna lie. I don't feel like the Scoobs here about your mates. Just the way 'm built, I can't help that. But I know if it was Red and her bird…" he shook his head. "The point is, Angel, is that you can't be everywhere, can't blame yourself that this world has teeth that you can't always defend those you love against 'em. You do what you can, when you can as best you can, mate. That's all you can ask yourself without driving yourself bonkers."

"They were my friends," Angel whispered and Cordelia slid her arm around the brunette's waist. "I brought them into this."

Spike shook his head. "They knew what the risks were, mate. They died fighting the good fight. Remember that."

The blonde's attention fell from Angel to the woman that held his heart. Tears streaked down her face and Spike cupped her cheeks in his hands. "I understand now, luv. When you said it wasn't my fault. Just took awhile to sink in." She tried to speak but he hushed her with a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'm about to shove off for the night, no, don't ask why. Got some things to do, things to set right. I'll be back tomorrow, luv." Before she could respond, Spike turned from the others. He ignored the pain that radiated from his body and the burning desire to run back and envelop Buffy in his arms. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't, because after two weeks of waiting, of dreading, his time was up.

She was calling him home.

*****

Sunnydale

Two hours earlier.

Not even during her five-year isolation on Pylea had Fred ever been this afraid. There she was a nothing, a no one--a cow used for menial labor. The gazes of the Pyleans contained nothing but disdain for her and the other humans that had been the unfortunate victims of circumstance (or jealous, evil professors) They were beaten, sometimes killed, for what the Pyleans saw as laziness or glancing the wrong way at their masters. She'd even seen brief bouts of torture (it never lasted long since Pyleans were, for all intents and purposes, immortal beings and death only visited them when their bodies were dismembered). For some reason, they never got it through their horned heads that humans couldn't take the same punishment. Still, that was the worst of it. Aside from the tortures and beatings, there had been no violations of the "cows". She never worried about defilement at the hands of her captures.

But the look in the faces of the two demons that crouched in front of her like vultures whispered of breaches of her virtue she'd only seen in movies. They leered at her, even the one who had no eyes, ripping her clothes from her without so much as a single touch. She covered up in a ball but there was nothing to shield her from the rancid lust that poured from the two creatures.

"She is so small, my brother," the one with no eyes said, and his forked tongue licked the blood that still stained his lips. Blood from her friends, blood from the man she loved.

"Oh, God," she murmured, feeling the bile churning in her gut. Charles. He'd had no chance. Lorne had sensed what was to happen but it had been too late, the axe had been buried in her boyfriend's back before he had a chance to defend himself. He had fallen to his knees, eyes locked on her before the demon that had eyes nearly severed his head with a single bite from the smaller demon's mouth. She'd stared in shock as his lifeless body fell to the floor, unable to move even when Lorne roared for her to run. Lorne, they had toyed with him, obviously knowing what he was. Sword and some sort of firearm had slowly tore him apart. The demon whose right hand beheld a cannon had lapped at the dead Pylean's blood as she watched. That's when her stomach had rebelled and her brain finally, albeit too late not to witness the horrors, shut down. She'd only awakened when she was tossed to the floor not five minutes ago. She had no idea where she was or why she was alive. The only thing she did know is that once the two monsters before her were through with her, she would beg for death.

"God, won't help you, girlie," the eyeless demon said and caressed her with a talon. She whimpered when it cut into the flesh of her jaw and pushed into the wall, hoping that it would engulf her frail body.

"No he won't," said the one that had finally ended Lorne's existence, "he's still in the future." Both laughed at what was obviously an in-joke and Fred curled further into herself.

"None of that, lovely," the eyeless one said. It smacked her and she screamed, holding her arms tightly across her chest.

"She thinks those spindly things will keep us from the goods," the one with eyes said. "Nothing's gonna keep us from your wares, baby…"

"Except me." Both demons turned towards the voice and Fred ventured a glance at the new visitor. It was the third assailant, the one who had hurled the axe into Gunn's back. She was still dressed in black but the heavy coat she had worn had been discarded. Black leather pants and a top that barely contained her ample breasts was her only clothing. Her bare feet made no noise as she sauntered across the marble floor towards the corner.

"Come now, Morrigann," Eyeless said, "you wouldn't deny us this, would you?"

"Oh, I would, M'ul At," she said and Fred nearly forgot the fear that slithered through her veins. The woman's voice was like a splendid breeze and Fred's muscles relaxed at the dulcet sound. The two demons stood and Fred was barely aware of them anymore as this beautiful creature stood before her, eyes surveying Fred's cowering form.

"She is beautiful," the woman said. "In a plain, human sort of way."

"Much like the slayer," the one not named M'ul At said.

Morrigann shook her head and her multicolored locks, woven in tiny braids, whipped through the air. "There is nothing plain about the slayer. This one does not interest me…but the slayer…If she wasn't the slayer, I'd have a tumble in the sack with her."

Only on the third repetition did Fred catch the word. Slayer, she thought, and allowed a single tear of hope to dot the corner of her eye. Did they mean Buffy? Had they brought her to Sunnydale? Were they going to tell Buffy about her?

"This one," the woman said, interrupting Fred's thoughts, "will be bait."

"For the slayer?"

Morrigann shook her head and the smile that graced her lips had Fred more afraid than the two demons ever could. "No. For someone much more special."

The yet to be identified demon spat on the ground and gave the woman a contemptuous glare. "You still fawn over that parasite? A vampire who follows the slayer around like a dog!"

"That is true, D'bahn, but soon that parasite will break apart our enemy more than myself or even Gabriel ever could."

D'bahn scoffed. "And how would that be, Morrigann?"

Irritation rippled across the other woman's features and she rolled her eyes. It was nearly enough to draw a hoarse chuckle from Fred. "Do not worry about the details, simpleton. Just know that William the Bloody will be at my side and he will be the one to kill the slayer and we shall rut in her blood."

M'ul At yawned. "Sounds a bit melodramatic to me."

"Well, if you could see what I have in store…" she said and smiled hideously. "Where are my manors? You can't see, M'ul At, can you?" The demon growled but did nothing. "Anyway, enough of this." Morrigann turned her back and Fred moaned at being left alone. She watched the woman walk towards the other room, stopping at the door's threshold.

"I will be out for a few. There are…things that I must attend to." She nodded towards Fred. "Do with her as you will, just leave her alive and in tact…more or less."

Fred couldn't control the sobs that ripped through her, or the frantic scream when their hands were upon her. She heard a door close in the distance but her mind could not shield itself from the probing hands that tore at her clothes, or the claws that sliced into her flesh. She tried to turn from her attackers and was slammed into the wall with enough force to knock the wind from her lungs.

She ignored the taunts whispered in her and the coarse palms that scratched her flesh. There was no doubt in her mind what was about to happen and she was powerless to stop it. She tried to retreat into herself, focusing on the equations that were always near the forefront of her mind. So close to feeling nothing, science had saved in so many ways and it would again come to her rescue and blank out the memory of what was about to happen.

She jumped when a sound echoed in the background just as the demon's hands gripped her hips and pulled Fred against its hard body. She'd be so close to being absolved of what was going on around her and the momentary lapse was enough to bring her present situation to light. It was too late. There was nothing she could do now…

Just as her mind accepted her impending doom, the body that pressed her into the wall was gone and Fred slid bonelessly to the floor. The distinctive sound of flesh on bone reverberated through the room and seconds later D'bahn's head crash through the wall. He didn't move.

Feeling the weight of unconsciousness pushing her down, Fred risked a glance over to where she thought her would-be savior stood. But she couldn't see anything but the brilliant shine of the overhead light glistening from the pure white of sword and its master.

"You are unharmed?" the figure asked, its voice a thunderclap in the silence. Fred opened her mouth to answer, but the only words she could spit forth were "thank you". And even the luminescence of her savior, her Angel of Mercy, was not enough to stave off the darkness as it consumed her.

TBC in Gambit…