(Author's Note: I'm so sorry this chapter is so late, but work is kicking my ass lately. I think I'm going to switch my 'writing time' from after work to before. I don't want my exhaustion and frustration to start coming out in the story at all.)
Spike was convinced Angel had put on a good thirty pounds since the last time he'd seen him. Hefting his grandsire's bulk through nightmarish metallic corridors was not the way Spike envisioned any good night going.
The fleeing demons ignored them for the most part, but the approaching soldiers were another matter.
Spike watched in morbid fascination as some of the demons ripped into the soldiers with a vengeance, and other collapsed howling in pain as they rushed forward.
That must be what the techno-leashes he'd heard described did. Something they put in your brain that made you vulnerable. Spike shuddered at the thought of being at the mercy of humans unable to defend yourself from their cruelty. He'd seen plenty of human cruelty to know it could make demon and vampire viciousness look like puppy bites.
He and Buffy pulled Angel body to the side, crushing back against the wall as another wave of demons came through.
He knew Buffy was wondering what was going on, but there was no time to explain. Spike shifted into game-face, through it could not be seen through the glamour, and used a fang to slice into his arm. He waved he bleeding wound in front of Angel's face and the older vampire started to come to.
* * *
The allure of family blood trickled into Angel sub-conscious, rousing him from the drugged sleep.
He had to be dreaming. Or possibly dust and in Hell again and this was his new torment, healing family blood freely offered but only centimeters away and still unreachable.
He flickered his eyes open to find strangers gazing down at him. But their scents told different stories.
“Bloody Hell, you stupid wanker! Get up you're too heavy to carry! Did you think this was a free ride? Get off your lazy arse and help us help you!”
“Spike?” The name came through cracked lips and a throat raw from screaming, but his youngest had no sympathy for him.
“Give the poofter a prize. Take a drink and get moving.”
Angel weakly latched on and drank deeply.
* * *
After a few minutes, Buffy noticed Spike's eyes starting to droop, “He's taking too much.” She forced Angel's jaws away from Spike's arm and was greeted with a much stronger, “Buffy?”
“Wow, you're two for two. Can you walk?”
Angel got up, steady on feet now and they started cutting their way through the throngs.
Buffy spotted Willow and Xander coming through another hallway and waved them over.
Heavily masked and armed soldiers followed them.
“We'll take it from here, doctor. We appreciate you holding on to Hostile 56 but you need to get yourselves to safety now.” The tall soldier in the front began tugging Angel away from them.
Spike knocked him unconscious with a blow to his temple and spun out with a spin kick taking down two others. Buffy took advantage of the soldiers' shock to take down a few of her own and Angel went nearly savage on a sixth.
Even as he was hauling an enraged Angel off the bleeding man, Spike couldn't help but be relieved. Angel obviously hadn't had one of those thing shoved in his head. Spike wouldn't wish something like that on his worst enemy.
“This way!” Willow shouted from their left.
Spike grabbed a firmly attached part of Angel and made for the vent opening, a still fighting Buffy in tow.
* * *
They really didn't stop running until they reached the playground at the head of the block where Spike and Tara's house was.
Xander bent forward, gripping a side stitch and gasping for air. Willow sat down hard on the swings. And Spike shoved Angel to the side, getting as far away from him as possible, and lit up a smoke.
“Hey Will, do you think you can take off the glamours now?” Buffy asked, coming over to stand next to Spike. She wanted to see his face first after seeing a stranger for the last hour.
“Oh yeah! Sorry, I kind of forgot.” Willow closed her eyes and concentrated. Her features lightened immediately and the face melted away to reveal Willow own.
Watching this process, Buffy realized they all had changed back at the same time. She turned to Spike and gave him a kiss just after he let a puff of smoke go.
It didn't taste as bad as she thought it would. It gave him a musky flavor.
Angel cleared his throat, “Not that I don't appreciate the rescue, but can someone tell me who those people were?”
He sounded angry and Buffy tensed at first before she realized the anger wasn't directed at her and Spike and their minor PDA at all.
“We don't really know.” Willow piped up, “They just kind of appeared. The only reason we knew where to look for you, or that they had you at all, was because Spike heard something and did a little digging.”
Angel looked over at his grandchilde, who was studiously not looking at him.
Spike spoke up finally, “We should get in, Tara and Anya are going to be worried and Rupert is all ready with his notebook to start writing this down, I just know it.”
Xander slumped a bit more before getting to his feet, “Do you think they'll have food? I'm just not seeing anymore walking without the promise of nourishment.”
Spike snorted, “Knowing Tara and the way she worries, it'll be an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
* * *
As promised, Tara had been nervously working away in the kitchen to distract herself from the danger her best friend and her lover were in.
Tara was the sort that always had homemade cookies in the cookie jar and a freshly baked treat on the cake stand on the counter. She always had ice cream in her freezer and some leftovers waiting to be heated up at a moments notice.
But tonight she had even out done herself.
When she heard the group on the porch, she dropped the chili spoon and bolted for the door, beating Anya by a good two seconds.
She was in Spike arms in another.
The familiar creak of his duster and his soft chuckle were beyond soothing. After she was sure he'd had enough, she moved on to Tara. Meanwhile, Anya was all over Xander giving him an earful all the while.
“I really don't think you should have gone at all. You have absolutely no extraordinary abilities. You should have left the dangerous things to Spike and Buffy.” As an after thought Anya frowned, “And Willow.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ahn.” Xander rolled his eyes skyward as if pleading for divine intervention.
“I made chili and jambalaya and lasagna because I wanted comfort food and I didn't know what everyone would like.” Tara began heading toward the kitchen, “I made some pecan pie and ginger cookies and we have lots of ice cream… What?”
Everyone was still standing in the doorway.
“Tara love, you want to go ahead and invite Peaches in?” Spike crossed his arms, hugging himself slightly and stepped aside to reveal his grandsire, slightly more worse for wear than the last time he had stood there.
Tara's eyes flicked to Spike's face. He didn't like it, but he thought it had to be done.
“Come in, Angelus.” She muttered, wishing it could be any other way.
She didn't pause to watch Angel cross the threshold, but followed Spike into the kitchen.
* * *
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