Disclaimer: I do this merely for my own enjoyment. I am not making any
money off of it.
Summary: see Chapter #1
Reviews: Yes please.
Author's notes: C.O.S= Change of scenery
""= Dialogue, ''= Thoughts
Jeffery is the name of the assailant/quarry
Chapter #15
"GET DOWN," Angel shouted again, as he watched while everyone moved to obey the shout. He, and Spike moved towards the weapons chest. Broken glass shattered, as the shots kept firing. Then, just as suddenly as the firing started, it stopped, leaving an eerie silence.
"Come out now." Angel told the group. The group cautiously peaked their heads above the desk, and one by one, crept out from behind it.
"What happened?" Willow asked.
" There was a gunman, who shot up the place." Angel answered.
"And he isn't exactly gone." Spike added, noticing a movement out of the corner of his eye.
"I've got him, you stay here, to look after cleanup. You may also want to patrol later." Spike suggested helpfully, and took the proffered longbow, and left the hotel in pursuit of his quarry
"Be careful," Willow called after him.
Jeffery didn't know what possessed him. He left work, and headed to his usual sports bar, and after a couple of beers headed home. He reheated another frozen dinner, and sat to watch the Lakers play. At halftime his girlfriend called. The ultimatum that had been coming for weeks came: either he proposes, and marries her, or she would break off the relationship. He needed a walk, and so to keep himself safe took the gun out of the bedroom drawer and put it in his pocket, grabbed his keys and left his apartment.
When he came upon the hotel, he really didn't know where he was. Then his cell phone rang, he pressed the talk button, and an automated female voice said: "You slay me with your humour." His eyes glazed over, as he slipped into the bushes that surrounded the place. A young woman was enjoying a private moment in the hotel with her friends, a celebration of joy it appeared. His hand slipped into his pocket and brought out the gun; he fired shots, and heard the crash as glass hit the floor. Two men stood alone throughout, just out of the range of the gun, one blonde, the other tall, and dark. The blonde was now chasing him, and nearly caught up with him. He followed the streets this way, and that turning into god knows what neighbourhood hoping to loose him. No such luck. At last he hit a dead end, where the walls of two warehouses at the end of an alley. He turned around panicked, and dropped his gun.
"At this point tears will do you no good." Spike said.
"Will anything do me any good?" Jeffery asked, beginning to think that this guy whomever he was intended to kill him.
"The truthful answer to one question: Why did you just try and kill my friends?" Spike asked.
"I-I don't know." Jeffery stuttered.
"You don't know why you just pulled a gun and started firing it at the hotel, and nearly killed my friends." Spike repeated incredulously.
"No." Jeffery answered. There was a long silence between the pair, as Spike thought of what had just been said.
"I don't know why, but I believe you." Spike told him.
"I do remember my cell-phone ringing just before though, if it helps." Jeffery added.
"Do you mind if I borrow it, to see if it might hold some clue?" Spike asked.
"Sure, it's in here somewhere." Jeffery answered feeling inside his pockets, and after he checked them all twice replied:
"I guess it must have slipped out of my pocket. Sorry."
"It's okay, um, where will you be?" Spike asked. Jeffery fiddled around in his pockets and brought one hand out bearing a business card.
"This is where I work. My home address is on the back." Jeffery explained.
"Thanks, we'll be in touch." Spike said turning around and walking towards the hotel.
C.O.S.: Hotel
Willow looked up from where she was sweeping up broken glass, to see Spike walking through the courtyard. A big smile spread across her face, as she leaned the broom against the doorframe and ran to meet him. Spike was very unprepared for the fierce hug she bestowed upon him, but returned it, thinking of what a pleasant surprise it was.
"I was so afraid I wouldn't see you again. I mean, he had a gun. You could've been shot." Willow babbled, her tone betraying the relief she felt.
Spike smiled, and jokingly pointed to himself, and said:
"Vampire remember, practically invulnerable. Very few things can harm us: wooden stakes, and holy water, and sunlight."
"I sometimes forget." Willow quietly admitted. Spike's smile spread even wider. Angel noticed the pair, and came striding over.
"What happened?" Angel got to the point.
"He said that he didn't know why he was shooting at us, one minute his cell- phone rings, and the next he's running away from me. He was very cooperative, even gave me his business card." Spike fished it out of the pocket of his jacket and handed it to Angel.
"Oh, and he also said his cell-phone fell out of his pocket." Spike added.
"Would this be, the object in question?" Buffy asked, entering from her patrol producing the find.
"It was in the bushes by the far wall of the courtyard." She answered the unasked question.
"Let's see what number last called him." Angel thoughtfully said, pressing a series of buttons.
"Hello, Wong's Chinese Food, what would you like tonight?" A voice asked. Angel hung up.
"Wesley, I want you to try and trace all the calls that have been made to cellphones in this area over the last hour. Fred, I'd like you to do some research into demons with mind-controlling powers, as well as mind- controlling spells. Willow, Spike, Dawn, Xander, and Gunn, I want you guys to come with me, and when Wes is done, check out possible locations. For now you guys dismissed." Angel gave orders, as he stood, his large form leaning against the front desk. Willow turned to go to her room.
"Willow wait up a tick, and I'll walk with you." Spike called, as he hurried to catch up with her on the stairs.
'Does he want to talk with me about what happened earlier? If he does, I'll just explain that it was reactionary, it meant nothing, it means nothing. It was the emotion of the situation.' Willow thought to herself, as they got off the elevator on their floor. He followed her to her door.
"I think we need to talk. Do you wanna come in?" Willow asked, all the while knowing he wouldn't turn her down. She unlocked the door and went in, he followed, and each took their place, him half-slouching in a chair, and her, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"That was just the emotion of the situation of the situation earlier, the hug I mean, and it didn't mean a thing. I w-was just happy to see you, it was the way a friend greets a friend." She began babbling.
Her lips suddenly hypnotized him while she was speaking. They were the dainty pink of cotton candy. She continued:
"It was an emotional situation. One moment, we were hugging Buffy, having what Xander calls: A 'hallmark' moment, the next thing we hear is Angel shouting for us to get down. And then you said that bit about the shooter." She continued. Finally Spike had enough, and moved to the bed, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. They pulled back breathless.
"It was only way to quiet you down. You were babbling Red." Spike explained to her.
"Now as for what happened earlier, I admit, it was a surprise, but it was pleasant. I don't want you to say anything to me yet. Let me say something first: Willow, you are one of the most amazing people I have ever met. You are strong, and yet sensitive. I was in awe the way you held it together when Buffy 'died.' You never let your tears show. You lead us through that difficult time. You are kind, and affectionate, and loyal, and fiercely protective. That so many contrasts could be wrapped up in one woman fascinates me. I'm falling in love with you Willow, I don't know when it happened but it did." Spike finished. Willow coloured at Spike's glowing praise, and on impulse grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. Their kiss lasted longer than the first one. When they finally broke it off, Willow was the first one to speak:
"And now we're even." She said panting.
C.O.S.: Lobby.
Wes stood behind the desk his laptop open in front of him. He'd been working on his assigned task for the last hour and a half, getting nowhere, and his mind had begun to wander to matters of a more sensitive nature, in one word or less: Cordelia.
'She's the same as when I left, full of attitude, and fire. And that attitude is just that, it covers up a lot of feelings, like a wall around her heart. She's afraid to love, even to let herself consider the whole notion of love. I can relate though, being a watcher all those years. We were supposed to remain objective, dispassionate, and unattached. We were supposed to be able to observe, and not interfere, but merely 'guide,'how can you guide without interfering, I mean it seems kind of pointless. So I developed the same kind of disposition, to create a wall around my heart. When I did, it left me cold, and unfeeling. I ended up misplacing my heart somewhere along the line, and now, I'm back, to trying to find it again.' Wesley was skimming his computer screen, full of addresses, and phone numbers. Something caught his eye:
"Angel, you better come look at this." In response the lanky vampire walked over, and stood behind Wesley.
"What have you got?" He asked.
"See these two numbers?" Wes pointed to two results about four from the bottom of the screen.
"That one was when I used the cell phone, magnify the second one." Angel advised, as he turned and grabbed a sticky pad, and pen.
"225 West Blvd, Los Angeles." Phone number: untraceable. Angel read out loud.
"I don't know this part of the city that well, it's near the studios, I'll see if Cordelia knows it." Angel walked out, and asked Cordelia back in.
She sighed: "The pair of you need my help as usual." Cordelia tiredly stated.
"Yeah we do. Do you know where 225 West Blvd is?" Angel got to the point. She bit her lower lip as she thought for a moment:
"It's in the studios district, its an old warehouse that is used from time- to-time as a soundstage, some old props, and pieces of sets are stored there, why?"
"It has to do with the motive of the shooter." Angel replied.
"You think this was the premiere of some freaky new reality show or something?" She sarcastically asked.
"Something like that," Angel answered distractedly, and left, in search of his team. Twenty minutes later, they were all armed and ready. They left, and went to the appointed warehouse. They stepped inside to find it unassuming, the regular cement floor, and cold-feeling interior. 'This is the perfect size for a soundstage,' Angel thought to himself, wondering, if it was still in use, where the equipment had gone.
"Th-This is it. This is where I was held." Dawn stuttered; looking around her, recognizing this was the room where she had been tortured.
Angel's eyes were caught then by a red door about 25 feet away from where they came in. He led the team towards it, and opened it. They walked in, and found a well-appointed room with bright-coloured rugs scattered underneath luxurious couches to the right side of the door. Spotlights were located to one side of every couch. Realization dawned on Spike, and Angel as they both took deep breaths, and realized that the room was used for feeding. Angel's head turned to the other side and noticed amidst all the luxury was a metal desk. A tape recorder caught his eye, sitting on top of it. He walked towards it, and pressed play. A sinister voice filled the room:
"That slayer-girl of yours is quite the little spitfire. I had quite the problem trying to figure out where to keep her. it being a warehouse and all. I found quite a purpose for some of the old props used in the television shows that were filmed here. I used a casket. She wasn't too pleased, and kept whimpering and blubbering. vulnerability I'm sure you find. appealing. Her 'key', or sister is it? Was another story. She kicked, and screamed, and struggled, she didn't know when to quit. So I had to deal with her in a different way, and let's just say, the results were pleasing for me. You are probably wondering what is it that I plan. For now, let's just leave it at, making your life, or unlife very, very difficult. Fare thee well old friend. Until we meet again, don't know where, don't know when." The voice left off in a singsong way...
The group all looked at Angel questioningly, as he answered their question with one word:
"Holtz."
A.N.: that song is not mine, it belongs to somebody else.
So that's another chapter written, what'd ya think?
Happy Reading.
-A.B.
Summary: see Chapter #1
Reviews: Yes please.
Author's notes: C.O.S= Change of scenery
""= Dialogue, ''= Thoughts
Jeffery is the name of the assailant/quarry
Chapter #15
"GET DOWN," Angel shouted again, as he watched while everyone moved to obey the shout. He, and Spike moved towards the weapons chest. Broken glass shattered, as the shots kept firing. Then, just as suddenly as the firing started, it stopped, leaving an eerie silence.
"Come out now." Angel told the group. The group cautiously peaked their heads above the desk, and one by one, crept out from behind it.
"What happened?" Willow asked.
" There was a gunman, who shot up the place." Angel answered.
"And he isn't exactly gone." Spike added, noticing a movement out of the corner of his eye.
"I've got him, you stay here, to look after cleanup. You may also want to patrol later." Spike suggested helpfully, and took the proffered longbow, and left the hotel in pursuit of his quarry
"Be careful," Willow called after him.
Jeffery didn't know what possessed him. He left work, and headed to his usual sports bar, and after a couple of beers headed home. He reheated another frozen dinner, and sat to watch the Lakers play. At halftime his girlfriend called. The ultimatum that had been coming for weeks came: either he proposes, and marries her, or she would break off the relationship. He needed a walk, and so to keep himself safe took the gun out of the bedroom drawer and put it in his pocket, grabbed his keys and left his apartment.
When he came upon the hotel, he really didn't know where he was. Then his cell phone rang, he pressed the talk button, and an automated female voice said: "You slay me with your humour." His eyes glazed over, as he slipped into the bushes that surrounded the place. A young woman was enjoying a private moment in the hotel with her friends, a celebration of joy it appeared. His hand slipped into his pocket and brought out the gun; he fired shots, and heard the crash as glass hit the floor. Two men stood alone throughout, just out of the range of the gun, one blonde, the other tall, and dark. The blonde was now chasing him, and nearly caught up with him. He followed the streets this way, and that turning into god knows what neighbourhood hoping to loose him. No such luck. At last he hit a dead end, where the walls of two warehouses at the end of an alley. He turned around panicked, and dropped his gun.
"At this point tears will do you no good." Spike said.
"Will anything do me any good?" Jeffery asked, beginning to think that this guy whomever he was intended to kill him.
"The truthful answer to one question: Why did you just try and kill my friends?" Spike asked.
"I-I don't know." Jeffery stuttered.
"You don't know why you just pulled a gun and started firing it at the hotel, and nearly killed my friends." Spike repeated incredulously.
"No." Jeffery answered. There was a long silence between the pair, as Spike thought of what had just been said.
"I don't know why, but I believe you." Spike told him.
"I do remember my cell-phone ringing just before though, if it helps." Jeffery added.
"Do you mind if I borrow it, to see if it might hold some clue?" Spike asked.
"Sure, it's in here somewhere." Jeffery answered feeling inside his pockets, and after he checked them all twice replied:
"I guess it must have slipped out of my pocket. Sorry."
"It's okay, um, where will you be?" Spike asked. Jeffery fiddled around in his pockets and brought one hand out bearing a business card.
"This is where I work. My home address is on the back." Jeffery explained.
"Thanks, we'll be in touch." Spike said turning around and walking towards the hotel.
C.O.S.: Hotel
Willow looked up from where she was sweeping up broken glass, to see Spike walking through the courtyard. A big smile spread across her face, as she leaned the broom against the doorframe and ran to meet him. Spike was very unprepared for the fierce hug she bestowed upon him, but returned it, thinking of what a pleasant surprise it was.
"I was so afraid I wouldn't see you again. I mean, he had a gun. You could've been shot." Willow babbled, her tone betraying the relief she felt.
Spike smiled, and jokingly pointed to himself, and said:
"Vampire remember, practically invulnerable. Very few things can harm us: wooden stakes, and holy water, and sunlight."
"I sometimes forget." Willow quietly admitted. Spike's smile spread even wider. Angel noticed the pair, and came striding over.
"What happened?" Angel got to the point.
"He said that he didn't know why he was shooting at us, one minute his cell- phone rings, and the next he's running away from me. He was very cooperative, even gave me his business card." Spike fished it out of the pocket of his jacket and handed it to Angel.
"Oh, and he also said his cell-phone fell out of his pocket." Spike added.
"Would this be, the object in question?" Buffy asked, entering from her patrol producing the find.
"It was in the bushes by the far wall of the courtyard." She answered the unasked question.
"Let's see what number last called him." Angel thoughtfully said, pressing a series of buttons.
"Hello, Wong's Chinese Food, what would you like tonight?" A voice asked. Angel hung up.
"Wesley, I want you to try and trace all the calls that have been made to cellphones in this area over the last hour. Fred, I'd like you to do some research into demons with mind-controlling powers, as well as mind- controlling spells. Willow, Spike, Dawn, Xander, and Gunn, I want you guys to come with me, and when Wes is done, check out possible locations. For now you guys dismissed." Angel gave orders, as he stood, his large form leaning against the front desk. Willow turned to go to her room.
"Willow wait up a tick, and I'll walk with you." Spike called, as he hurried to catch up with her on the stairs.
'Does he want to talk with me about what happened earlier? If he does, I'll just explain that it was reactionary, it meant nothing, it means nothing. It was the emotion of the situation.' Willow thought to herself, as they got off the elevator on their floor. He followed her to her door.
"I think we need to talk. Do you wanna come in?" Willow asked, all the while knowing he wouldn't turn her down. She unlocked the door and went in, he followed, and each took their place, him half-slouching in a chair, and her, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"That was just the emotion of the situation of the situation earlier, the hug I mean, and it didn't mean a thing. I w-was just happy to see you, it was the way a friend greets a friend." She began babbling.
Her lips suddenly hypnotized him while she was speaking. They were the dainty pink of cotton candy. She continued:
"It was an emotional situation. One moment, we were hugging Buffy, having what Xander calls: A 'hallmark' moment, the next thing we hear is Angel shouting for us to get down. And then you said that bit about the shooter." She continued. Finally Spike had enough, and moved to the bed, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. They pulled back breathless.
"It was only way to quiet you down. You were babbling Red." Spike explained to her.
"Now as for what happened earlier, I admit, it was a surprise, but it was pleasant. I don't want you to say anything to me yet. Let me say something first: Willow, you are one of the most amazing people I have ever met. You are strong, and yet sensitive. I was in awe the way you held it together when Buffy 'died.' You never let your tears show. You lead us through that difficult time. You are kind, and affectionate, and loyal, and fiercely protective. That so many contrasts could be wrapped up in one woman fascinates me. I'm falling in love with you Willow, I don't know when it happened but it did." Spike finished. Willow coloured at Spike's glowing praise, and on impulse grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. Their kiss lasted longer than the first one. When they finally broke it off, Willow was the first one to speak:
"And now we're even." She said panting.
C.O.S.: Lobby.
Wes stood behind the desk his laptop open in front of him. He'd been working on his assigned task for the last hour and a half, getting nowhere, and his mind had begun to wander to matters of a more sensitive nature, in one word or less: Cordelia.
'She's the same as when I left, full of attitude, and fire. And that attitude is just that, it covers up a lot of feelings, like a wall around her heart. She's afraid to love, even to let herself consider the whole notion of love. I can relate though, being a watcher all those years. We were supposed to remain objective, dispassionate, and unattached. We were supposed to be able to observe, and not interfere, but merely 'guide,'how can you guide without interfering, I mean it seems kind of pointless. So I developed the same kind of disposition, to create a wall around my heart. When I did, it left me cold, and unfeeling. I ended up misplacing my heart somewhere along the line, and now, I'm back, to trying to find it again.' Wesley was skimming his computer screen, full of addresses, and phone numbers. Something caught his eye:
"Angel, you better come look at this." In response the lanky vampire walked over, and stood behind Wesley.
"What have you got?" He asked.
"See these two numbers?" Wes pointed to two results about four from the bottom of the screen.
"That one was when I used the cell phone, magnify the second one." Angel advised, as he turned and grabbed a sticky pad, and pen.
"225 West Blvd, Los Angeles." Phone number: untraceable. Angel read out loud.
"I don't know this part of the city that well, it's near the studios, I'll see if Cordelia knows it." Angel walked out, and asked Cordelia back in.
She sighed: "The pair of you need my help as usual." Cordelia tiredly stated.
"Yeah we do. Do you know where 225 West Blvd is?" Angel got to the point. She bit her lower lip as she thought for a moment:
"It's in the studios district, its an old warehouse that is used from time- to-time as a soundstage, some old props, and pieces of sets are stored there, why?"
"It has to do with the motive of the shooter." Angel replied.
"You think this was the premiere of some freaky new reality show or something?" She sarcastically asked.
"Something like that," Angel answered distractedly, and left, in search of his team. Twenty minutes later, they were all armed and ready. They left, and went to the appointed warehouse. They stepped inside to find it unassuming, the regular cement floor, and cold-feeling interior. 'This is the perfect size for a soundstage,' Angel thought to himself, wondering, if it was still in use, where the equipment had gone.
"Th-This is it. This is where I was held." Dawn stuttered; looking around her, recognizing this was the room where she had been tortured.
Angel's eyes were caught then by a red door about 25 feet away from where they came in. He led the team towards it, and opened it. They walked in, and found a well-appointed room with bright-coloured rugs scattered underneath luxurious couches to the right side of the door. Spotlights were located to one side of every couch. Realization dawned on Spike, and Angel as they both took deep breaths, and realized that the room was used for feeding. Angel's head turned to the other side and noticed amidst all the luxury was a metal desk. A tape recorder caught his eye, sitting on top of it. He walked towards it, and pressed play. A sinister voice filled the room:
"That slayer-girl of yours is quite the little spitfire. I had quite the problem trying to figure out where to keep her. it being a warehouse and all. I found quite a purpose for some of the old props used in the television shows that were filmed here. I used a casket. She wasn't too pleased, and kept whimpering and blubbering. vulnerability I'm sure you find. appealing. Her 'key', or sister is it? Was another story. She kicked, and screamed, and struggled, she didn't know when to quit. So I had to deal with her in a different way, and let's just say, the results were pleasing for me. You are probably wondering what is it that I plan. For now, let's just leave it at, making your life, or unlife very, very difficult. Fare thee well old friend. Until we meet again, don't know where, don't know when." The voice left off in a singsong way...
The group all looked at Angel questioningly, as he answered their question with one word:
"Holtz."
A.N.: that song is not mine, it belongs to somebody else.
So that's another chapter written, what'd ya think?
Happy Reading.
-A.B.