Ring of Fire

Chapter 2.02

Willow and Tara began to set up to recast their improved location spell, this time using one of Lorne's brightly coloured handkerchiefs, which had been raided from his room. Angel had passed on the news regarding Lorne and the others’ imprisonment. The spell was their way, partly to double-check Spike’s testimony as to where the hostages had been kept, always assuming they actually managed to pry him and Buffy apart for long enough to get it. It was also a way to see if Lorne had been moved from the location where Spike had been held.

Fred was sweeping up the debris from both Xander’s swordplay and the combined effect of Gunn’s, Lori’s, Anya’s and Tara’s crossbows. When Willow saw her heading toward the pile of dust that had once been Drusilla, she moved to intercept her before Dru’s ashes could become mingled with that of the other vampires.

"Em, I don’t know about Angel, but I’m willing to bet Spike wouldn’t be too happy about his ex ending up in the trash. And after that little show tonight, I’m kind of remembering why it might not be the best idea in the world to piss him off."

"Oh! Em…"

Willow felt a sudden wave of ex-nerd solidarity with the Texan and came to her rescue as she obviously struggled with the correct etiquette.

"Maybe a shoebox, or a nice sweet tin or biscuit tin, something like that? Just till Spike and Angel decide what they want to do with them."

"I know. I’ve got something upstairs."

As Willow watched her retreating back, she heaved a sigh of relief at the potential public relations disaster that had been averted. To judge by Buffy’s reaction, the blonde vampire must have his good points, but being level-headed certainly wasn’t prime amongst them.

Xander wandered over in her direction with Anya following a couple of paces behind. Willow had to extend a hand to stop him before he walked through Drusilla. "We’re going to head back to Sunny D. Got a hard day pounding nails to look forward to tomorrow, and I’m guessing when they finally do come through with this helicopter that space is going to be at a premium, especially if there’re going to be an extra seven bodies-. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Seven extra- Six extra people and a big green thing."

"Xander…" Willow adopted her long-suffering friend tone as she shook her head gently from side to side. "Sure. Do you want us to call and let you know what happens later or just catch up when we get back?"

"I think we can skip the three in the morning phone call."

"Are you going to check on Dawnie when you get back? I think she might like a first hand account of the action. Clem called before, but it’s not the same as talking face to face. And I think he was crying most of the time. I definitely never want to be around if he watches Bambi."

"She’s staying with Clem’s folks, right?" the brunette asked. "I think I’ll skip the demon house party."

"Xander!" Simultaneous exclamations came from two of the three most important women in his life. Anya’s exclamation was accompanied by a slap on the back of his no longer invulnerable head.

"Ow. I was just saying spending the night with a bunch of demons, not my idea of a fun evening." This earned him another slap.

"I’ll be waiting in the car when you finish here, always assuming you don’t object to sharing transport with an ex-demon." With that the blonde marched toward the hotel’s back door.

Willow merely shook her head at her friend’s tactlessness. "Look, I’d best go before I end up sleeping on the sofa tonight. I gave the balls to Wesley, so if you can bring them back with you when you finally get back, it’d be kinda cool. God knows it’s probably the last present I’m ever likely to get from bleach boy, so I’d best hang onto them."

Willow couldn’t resist. "So, it’s just because they’re a present from Spike? Nothing to do with that "cascade thing" Anya was raving about?" As Xander flushed and shuffled his feet Willow’s face split into a mischievous grin, the tip of her tongue just showing between her teeth.

"Willow Rosenberg. If your mother heard you now…"

"She would block it out, just the same as how she’ll tell me about some nice, Jewish boy that she knows while me and Tara hold hands when we’re visiting."

Xander enfolded her in a parting hug. "I’ve really got to go. Say bye to Buffy for me." He walked the couple of yards to where Tara was setting up to hug her, too. "See ya back on the flip side," he told her. With a last wave to the general populace of the reception, he headed for the hotel’s back door, hoping against hope he could manage to pacify his wife before bedtime. The Red Sonja routine would be right out otherwise.

Willow watched the carpenter depart, wondering just how long it would take him to learn how to avoid putting both feet in it with his new wife. Before she could spend too much longer on her musings, Fred returned with an ornate tin.

"Will this do?" she asked.

"Sure. Well, mostly sure. That's to say we'll know for sure when Angel and Spike don't rip our heads off, metaphorically speaking, that is," Willow answered.

"When we don't rip your heads off for what?" asked Angel as he emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of mugs

"Putting Drusilla in a biscuit tin?" Willow replied.

"As an alternative to what? It's not like we keep a spare urn around the place just in case. It'll be fine," the vampire replied.

"Well... good. Glad that's all sorted out." Willow replied before snagging two of the cups from Angel's tray, taking one over to Tara.

"I think we're ready," the other Wicca told her.

"Ho-o-kay. One super-duper location spell coming up, right after we have some caffeinated goodness." The redhead positively bubbled at the prospect of more high-powered magic. "Now, is it supposed to be good or bad if he's in the same place?"

Tara smiled at her obvious enthusiasm. "I think so long as we know where he is, we'll make the best of it, Will."

Angel passed a cup to Fred and then made his way across to where Lily, Clem, Lori and Wesley had settled in on the red sofas to wait until they were needed. He offered refreshments to Lori and the two demons, and then with obvious reluctance, he crossed to where Wesley sat.

The Englishman took a cup from the tray, saying a quiet thank you as he did.

Angel's acknowledgement consisted of an infinitesimal nod and a barely audible grunt. He might be mending fences when it came to Spike, but that didn't mean he was prepared to issue a general amnesty. In fact, he'd actually counted on the cups running out before he got as far as Wesley, but he seemed to have one left over. He knew Gunn and Connor had gone upstairs to try to grab an hour or two of sleep before they were needed.

"Xander?" he asked no one in particular.

"Gone back to Sunnydale," Willow supplied. "Kind of a pre-requisite of being gainfully employed that you actually show up."

"How long before we know whether the location spell's going to work?" he asked putting the tray down on top of the reception desk and claiming the last coffee for himself.

Tara shrugged before she replied. "About ten minutes once we finish our coffees."

"And if it works, does that mean we know he's still alive?" the vampire asked.

"I think so," Tara replied. "The spell sort of picks up on the aura of the person most closely associated with the item. No aura means nothing it can pick up on, but that doesn't mean that he's dead if it doesn't work. It could just mean that we picked up on Spike because he'd moved outside the area that was warded and we have to try one of the other spells to get round the wards."

"Alright, I guess we'll just need to wait and see, then." Angel began to straighten up the reception desk, putting all Cordy's bits and pieces back where she liked them. "Fred, have you seen Cordy's notepad anywhere?" He started to pull out things from under the desk to see if the pad had fallen down the back somewhere. Somehow, it seemed vitally important that everything should be as it was, as if a missing notebook would prevent her return.

"I can't remember seeing it the last couple of days," Fred replied. "I'm sure it'll turn up."

Just as Angel had pulled the maximum amount of debris from under the desk the phone began to ring. The vampire dove toward it, answering before it could manage a second ring.

"Angel Investigations."

The brunette listened intently for several seconds before putting the phone down. "We've got a go, people. Turns out one of David's role-playing buddies' dad flew Hueys in 'Nam. He's kept his licence up to date and roped in one of his mates, who runs a charter company. Assuming we've got an extra seven to bring back, we've got enough space for five. Spike's got to go, which means there's about as much chance of snow in June as there is of Buffy staying behind, so that just leaves space for Connor and Gunn."

"I’ll go tell the others that we need them," Fred volunteered.

"Wait a minute, Fred," Wesley interrupted. "I think Angel’s forgotten one thing. We know that they’ve been using magic. I think it would be ill advised for neither Tara nor Willow to go."

Fred looked back and forward between the pair for a couple of seconds before she retreated upstairs. "I’ll just let them know we’re trying to sort out who should go. Which room are Buffy and Spike in?"

"Three fourteen," Angel answered.

"Oh, that’s easy, right." A second later she was gone.

At first, the sound of knocking failed to rouse Spike from his dreams, the sound merely accompanying his own blows on the inside of his coffin lid and the answering taps from above. Somehow, in the way of dreams, he knew that the noises above him were caused by Buffy, buried alive in her own coffin. In a manner not uncommon for married couples in his own time as some of the cemeteries had neared capacity, they had been buried in the same plot with one spouse’s coffin resting on top of the other. Just as he succeeded in tearing loose the first chunk of wood from the coffin lid, he realised that a voice called out his name. The inconsistency of the Texan accent finally roused him from his sleep.

"We’ll be down in a couple of minutes, sweetheart." Spike called as he pulled free of the sticky sheets before gently shaking Buffy from her apparently equally troubled sleep.

"Pet," he whispered before he bestowed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It’s time to go. C’mon, love. Best go see what’s left." Even as Buffy cleared the sleep from her eyes, he rifled through the bag that Angel had brought up, finding his jeans, a T-shirt and an over shirt. He tossed the rest of the bag over to Buffy, who started pulling on clothes before she even bothered to come out from under the sheet and blankets that had covered them.

When she finally made her way out from under the covers Spike took her into his arms holding her close for several seconds before pulling back and taking her hand for their walk downstairs.

Willow and Tara set aside their coffee cups and began work on the spell. First, they lit candles and incense on either side of the area where they would be working. Then, they placed Lorne’s handkerchief and a map of the Western seaboard inside the sacred circle that they had prepared. The two witches linked hands across the circle and began to chant.

"Hidden from sight
Yet in our thoughts
Far afield
Deep magicks wrought

Charm dispel
Clarity bring
Let his aura
Now be seen."

The pair repeated these two verses time and again as the others watched until after several minutes, a small but bright pinprick of light seemed to emerge from the folds of the royal blue silk. It shifted to hover over the map and circle the blob that represented LA a couple of times as if trying to find its bearings before streaking off and almost instantly disappearing.

"Did you see where it went?" Willow asked.

"I think it was sort of north, but it was so quick once it moved…" The blonde witch shrugged.

"Was it supposed to poof like that?" Clem asked.

"No, it should have zeroed in on where he was and then stayed there. It probably disappeared when it reached the boundary of the warded area," the blonde witch replied.

"It’s just as well that one of us knows where he’s going, then." Spike’s voice carried down from the mezzanine level, preceding his and Buffy’s entrance by only a few seconds.

"We’re looking to be in the Sierra Nevada a bit south of all those National Parks and whatnot, and as to the rest, I’ll know it when I see it."

"And if they’ve been moved?" Angel asked.

Spike gave the older vamp an exasperated glare before responding. "Then we’re jolly well buggered, aren’t we? So you better hope not."

A thought suddenly seemed to occur to Spike. "Where’s the DeSoto, pet?"

"Well, seeing as how you’re the one with the keys, it’ll be right where you left it." She forestalled his next question. "We paid up the room for the rest of the week so they wouldn’t tow it or anything. You can get it later. Okay?"

"Right, then," the blonde announced. "I’d best just go and have a word with Clem and Lily, I reckon. Give us a shout when you’ve got it worked out who’s going and stuff."

Buffy smiled as she watched the vampire attempt to look nonchalant as he wandered toward his friend and his mother. He didn’t fool her, and he wouldn’t fool Lily, and she very much doubted that he’d even fool Clem. The shuffling feet and bowed head said it all; Buffy smiled and turned her attention back to the discussion in front of her.

"Wesley’s right. We need Will. We already know they’ve had some warlock up there doing stuff. We need someone who can counter any evil mojo they’ve got on the place. For all we know, magic dude could still be there."

"You mean I don’t get no helicopter ride?" Gunn asked.

"I would have said rather you than Stephen," Buffy admitted.

"That’s so unfair. I’m stronger than he is and faster," Connor protested.

"And last week you didn’t know what a proper vampire bite looked like, and until you have to, it’s something you’re best off not knowing. Okay?" Buffy retaliated. "Don’t be in such a hurry to stop being a kid." She turned to her ex. "And what were you thinking? Those kids are his age, give or take. What do you think it would be like for him if we go up there, and they’re all dead, or even better, turned?"

"I guess I just wanted him to be a part of what I do," Angel admitted looking a little shamefaced. "It’s not like he’s your typical teenage kid."

"And doesn’t that make you want to give him a chance to be more like one, rather than stripping away the last bits of childhood he has left. Okay, so he’s super strong and super fast. He’s still only sixteen, seventeen. He should be worrying about homework and whether he can get a date with the girl he likes, not killing monsters. At least, that shouldn’t be his whole life. You’re his dad, not his big brother. Heaven knows I hate it when I have to play mom with Dawn, but at least I’ve got an excuse. I know you can’t wrap him in cotton wool, but that doesn’t mean it’s a healthy idea to take him along to a potential massacre either."

"Well, if you put it like that..."

Spike walked up behind Buffy and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Bit’s fifteen, and she won’t even let her drink coffee. How did you expect her to put it?" Buffy gave him a gentle punch in his good side for his teasing tone.

"Whereas you just teach her how to pick locks and stuff."

"Hey, like it’s a bad thing for the slayer’s little sister to be able to get out of a set of handcuffs. How often do the nasties use her to try to get to you?"

Buffy gave her head a slight shake and gave up arguing. "Okay, way I see it Spike has to go. So does Will. And then that leaves space for three of us out of you, me, Wes and Gunn." She turned to Wes and Gunn. "Either of you two know first aid." Both men nodded.

"Okay then, guess it’s us five then. So where did you say we’d get these helicopters?" Spike couldn’t help but smile at the way she automatically overrode Angel.

"Hey, I’m the one who managed to get hold of the helicopters. That should mean I get to go," Angel insisted.

"As I recall, you said Texas there did the ringing, and she’s about the only one that hasn’t been nominated for a berth," was Spike’s reply.

"Yes, but I’m the one who knows David Nabbit."

"Not the only one," Wesley reminded him

It was at this point Willow walked up to the group and held out her fist. Three long, thin scraps of paper stuck out from the top. She looked at Angel, Wesley and Gunn.

"Buf-." Angel began only to be confronted by Willow’s resolve face.

"Snow in June." The redhead reminded him of his earlier words.

The three men each reached for the end of one of the strips, all tugging their chosen one from her grasp at the same time. The chagrined expression on the face of one of the men told it’s own story.

The redhead stared down each of the other two in turn. Then, she asked, "can we go now?"

Spike gave a snort of amusement before turning toward the door, his arm still around Buffy’s shoulders. The slayer wasn’t the only little girl who had grown up since Angel and Wesley had left Sunnydale. As they made their way to the cars, Spike heard the distant sound of a church clock striking ten.

Chapter 2.03

Wesley didn’t think about what he was doing. He simply drew the shorter piece of paper from Gunn’s hand and handed him both his own longer piece and the pouch that contained the orbs.

Before the other man could say anything either in thanks, or as Wesley suspected would be more likely, in protest, he turned and headed for where Tara was preparing the necessary components for one of the other location spells.

"You might need what’s in the pouch," he told the younger man, deliberately not looking back so that Gunn wouldn’t need to meet his gaze. "Any of the Sunnydale crowd will be able to tell you what they do. I’ve got plenty I can be getting on with here." He gestured in the vague direction of the stack of books they had removed from Holliday’s shop, in addition to the one the demon had intimated would be useful.

"I’ve got to make a start on checking through Holliday’s inventory tomorrow, so it’s not as if I couldn’t do with an early night."

"Look. I ain’t-."

"You aren’t going to be able to help those kids if you stay here. You’re simply better qualified for dealing with them than I. I suggest you don’t keep the others waiting."

Only when he heard the door open and close once more did Wes finally let his shoulders relax. He gave Tara a soft smile. "How can I help?" he asked.

Spike and Buffy turned as Angel approached, the vampire’s arm still casually draped around the slayer’s shoulders. "Who’s drivin’ an’ which car?"

"I am, and it’s the convertible," answered Angel in a tone that brooked no argument.

Spike merely shrugged and turned his attention to Buffy once more, scooping her into his arms and depositing her gently on the car’s backseat before she had time to realise what he was up to. Then, when she shifted over in the seat to make room, he rested his butt on the body of the car just behind the rear seat, swinging his legs over and in before dropping down into place.

The relatively sedate nature of his entry into the vehicle told Buffy that he was suffering more from his wounds than he would say. Leaning in towards him, she slid her arm under his before clasping his hand and letting her head rest on his shoulder.

"You really thought you were in a fit state to take on a slayer?" she asked.

"Yeah, well… I was kind of expecting some sixteen year old… and I didn’t remember the number of times between now and then that you happened to kick my butt."

The pair were distracted as Willow climbed into the front passenger seat of the car.

"Hey," Buffy called from the back. "Have I got cooties or something?"

"No, but I kinda figured that Wes would be taking his car so that we had space to bring people back."

"Good point," The blonde conceded. "What’re we going to do with them all when we get back to town anyway? Are we going to have to take them all back to their families?"

"Yeah, right, pet. ‘Cause it’s been all over the telly that they’ve disappeared. They picked ‘em up off the streets. They don’t have any family or they ran away from it," Spike told her. "Looks like the Hyperion Hotel is about to become the Hyperion Hostel."

Angel scowled at the thought of further invasions of his privacy. Somehow this was Spike’s fault. He hadn’t worked out exactly how, but deep down he just knew it.

Spike’s next words drew him from his contemplation. "Looks like the watcher decided not to come, after all." The rest of the group looked over to see Gunn emerging from the Hotel’s back door. He walked over to the convertible and vaulted into the remaining seat in the back.

"Let’s go," he told Angel, who merely waited bemused as Willow let out a heavy sigh. "Am I the only one who wasn’t going to leave these people sitting at the airport or wherever we’re actually driving to?" she asked.

"Where are we going?" Spike posed his own question.

"David’s place. The charter company’s based at the airstrip at Long Beach, so it’s quicker for him to come to us, and David’s got plenty of space for him to land."

"I was kind of looking for something that would tell me whether we were going to be going anywhere near where the DeSoto is," the blond replied. "That said, I guess if this guy’s as well off as all that, he won’t mind putting up a few kids for a while so we don’t really need another car, do we? So I guess we can just go," he added pointedly. "Unless you really, really want to bring them all home and wuv them and wook after them like widdle, stway puppies so they can be company for junior, that is?"

Gunn sat forward to look past Buffy in the blond vampire’s direction. "Is he always like that?" he asked no one in particular, as Angel finally pulled away.

"Only when he can’t eat people," Willow answered and then seemed to consider her response further. "So, yeah, pretty much."

As the car made its way from downtown LA through the more affluent suburbs, Spike began to absently search through his coat pockets. A packet of cigarettes was pulled from one pocket, soon followed by his lighter. He lit up a cigarette, no mean feat in itself given the speed of the open top vehicle, but this seemed only to delay his search slightly rather than be the object of it. By the time he’d gone through all his coat pockets twice, his patience was obviously at an end.

"Balls!" he swore under his breath.

"What’s up?" Buffy asked.

"Phone’s missing. Wasn’t really something I’d have had four years back so I didn’t twig before."

"So are you just annoyed that it’s missing, or did you actually want to call someone?"

"Both. I’d kind of like it if Bit wasn’t waitin’ with a stake when we get back."

Buffy rummaged in her purse, pulling out one of three phones that still remained there after her Sunday morning shopping spree. "Lucky I’ve got some spares. I think I might’ve gone overboard when we wanted to make sure everyone could stay in touch. She’s staying with Marie, so don’t bother calling Revello."

Buffy passed the phone over and Spike started flicking through the phone book until he found the number he wanted.

"Hey, Bit." Spike began in typically laid back style.

"So you remember who I am, do you? Only took you three hours."

"Sorry, pet. Once your sis got me patched up a bit we ended up crashing for a couple of hours."

"That’s a new name for it," Dawn responded, but her tone was more teasing than caustic, even if it still had a slight edge. "Are you okay? That whole bathtub thing had us kind of worried."

"Bathtub thing?" Spike queried.

"Get Buffy to tell you. And bear in mind it’s not just your ass on the line any more. Now, answer the question. Are you okay?"

"I’m a bit banged up, but nothin’ that won’t be all healed by the time the wedding rolls around. We still on for dinner with your young man tomorrow night?"

"As far as I know. You going to make it back?"

"Wouldn’t miss it, pet," Spike assured her.

"Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it."

Spike sighed at her sceptical tone. "If we can, we’ll be there to pick you up from school tomorrow. Okay, Bite-Size?"

"I guess I can wait that long."

"D’you want to talk to your big sis?" Spike asked.

"Why would I want to do that?" the teenager asked, reluctant to seem overly attached to her sister.

"Maybe to give her a hard time, too?"

"Yeah, put her on, why don’t you?"

Spike passed the handset over to his fiancée.

"Hey, Dawnie," Buffy greeted her sister.

"I guess you haven’t told him about your bloodbath, then?" Dawn accused.

"There hasn’t exactly been a lot of time to talk. We’ll get round to it sooner or later, when we get some privacy. We’ve got quite a bit we need to discuss."

"Yeah, right. Spike says you’ll be back home tomorrow."

"I don’t see why not. We’ve got some bits and pieces to do, but we should be finished later on tonight. We’ll try to call tomorrow before you go to school. Okay?"

"Okay. Stay safe."

"We’ll do our best. Bye."

"Bye. Talk to you tomorrow."

Buffy cut the connection and passed the phone back to Spike. "You might as well keep one," she told him. "You paid for them."

Out of curiosity, Spike dialled the number for his own cell phone. It rang for what seemed like minutes before he was connected to his voicemail service. He terminated the call and put the phone away in his pocket.

"Hey, come on up." The disembodied voice coming from the speaker at the gate was unmistakably that of David Nabbit.

The high, black gates swung open and the convertible glided majestically through and coasted up the drive.

Even as they pulled up in front of the large house, the multi-millionaire was waiting on his doorstep to greet them. "Hey there. The chopper isn’t here yet. It should be about another half an hour maybe forty minutes."

"I thought you said it would only be a fifteen minute flight," Angel responded, obviously anxious to get things rolling as soon as possible.

"It is. But then Doug’s dad and the other pilot have to get to the strip and do the pre-flight checks. So do you guys want a coffee or a drink or something while you’re waiting?"

"I’ll have a drink," Spike was quick to respond, receiving a poke in his ribs for his trouble. "Wha’? Might as well. No point standing round doing nothing." Buffy gave an exasperated sigh that was belied by her amused smile as she watched her fiancé’s retreating back as he scrambled from the car. The slayer followed suit, taking his hand again as he turned to help her out.

"You drink more than you should," Buffy told him.

"‘S that right, love? Well, if you want me to drink less, you’ll just have to keep me and my mouth occupied with other things." His voice was partly gently mocking and wholly seductive. He leant in for a gentle but prolonged kiss by way of demonstration. The other three got out of the car and had followed David into the house before he raised his head once more. His hand came up to caress her face, his thumb gently brushing her cheekbone as she melted into his touch.

"Pig." Buffy mouthed the insult under her breath, knowing he was more than capable of hearing it.

"Love you, too, pet." His response came as a dryly amused whisper.

As they followed the others into the house, Spike could hear Willow apologising on their behalf. "Em, you’ll have to excuse Spike and Buffy. It’s their one-week engagement anniversary, and they’ve only just got Spike back. They’re not normally all kissy-face. Except when they are."

"I’m sure the guy’s seen people kiss before, Red. He might even have done it himself a few times. He doesn’t need a diagram." Spike overrode Willow’s apology with all the finesse of a bulldozer. "Why don’t you do the introductions, Angelus, and then the nice man can get back to offering alcohol."

Angel gave a long-suffering sigh. It didn’t matter how much Spike changed, in some ways he was determinedly the same.

"David, this is Spike, Buffy and Willow. They’re visiting from Sunnydale. This is Gunn. I don’t think you guys have met, but he’s been working with us for quite a while."

"So you guys are all demon hunters, too?" David asked.

"Ya could say that," Buffy told him.

Spike snorted. "And you could also say the North Pole’s a bit chilly, and it’d be about the same level of understatement."

"Buffy is the slayer. It’s kind of this whole demon-killing destiny," Angel provided for the mystified millionaire.

Spike was finishing off his second single malt when he heard the sound of the helicopter arriving. He sat his empty glass down on the end table near his chair and strode to watch through the room’s french windows as the machine landed. Buffy came to stand next to him, a diet coke can still in her hand.

"I’ve never been in a helicopter before. Have you?" she asked.

"A couple of times. ‘S just another way of getting from A to B when all’s said and done."

"What if I get airsick?"

"You won’t, but if you do, I’ll look after you."

"What if Willow gets sick?" she teased.

"Then, she can look after herself. Or more likely magic herself better," Spike added in what sounded to Buffy like a slightly disapproving tone.

"Shouldn’t we go wait outside?"

"Nah, let him stop the rotors first. Those things make quite a draught."

However, David chose this moment to walk past them and throw wide the doors until metal clips on their outer edge latched into clips set into the walls on either side of the doorway, to hold them securely open. The others began to spill out onto the lawn at the rear of the house. Buffy tugged on Spike’s arm, pulling him outside.

"If we’re going to get your hair all mussed up anyway, we might as well get a better view," she told him.

He let himself be pulled out into the gardens, but as he watched her smiling face, he knew views didn’t come any better.

It took a good ten minutes for the helicopter to land, for Spike to discuss with the two pilots where roughly they were headed and for all the passengers to get belted in safely. By the time they took to the air, it was a little after quarter past eleven. With about an hour of flying time to get them into the right general area and then a bit longer for Spike to pinpoint where they were going, it was going to be at least half past twelve before they reached the cabin.

Chapter 2.04

Lorne had settled in for the evening, or at least he thought it was the evening, locked in, as they were, they had no real way to tell. The others were all doing their own thing, whatever that happened to be. One of the kids had been making full use of the kitchen since their host’s departure, taking it upon himself both to cook a meal for everyone that night and to sort out menus that made the best possible use of the supplies they had.

The couple had shut themselves in one of the rooms, and even when the food had been served, it had only prompted the male half of the partnership to come out long enough to take a couple of plates upstairs. No prizes for sociability heading in that direction.

A couple of the others had volunteered for washing up duty, seeing as they’d had dinner cooked for them, they said it was the least they could do. After that, everyone except Lorne had briefly headed off to their various rooms to get showered and see what they could find in the way of clothing. Now, they were back in the living room, lounging in front of the open fire to dry off their hair, rather than using precious electricity.

Most of the kids seemed to have no problem with making all their amenities last as long as possible. They seemed resigned that their showers should be the last, for at least the next few days. They agreed to stick to the menus that the kid had drawn up, knowing it would be more efficient to cook one communal meal than seven individual ones. They stayed in the main room, partly for company but also to save on lighting.

They resolved that tomorrow morning they would comb the cabin for tools to help them break free of their confinement, either through the metal shutters, or if necessary, through the wall. One of the kids was even game for trying to scale the inside of the chimney, once the fire had died down overnight. It would be a tight fit, but considering how scrawny some of the kids were, they might be able to make it.

Tonight, however was given over to winding down.

They had spent the last couple of days not knowing if they would live or die, and whilst their situation was still dire, it was a lot better than it had been. They were warm. They were clean. They had some drinks. They had music. They had rooms with actual beds to sleep in. Except for the whole shut-in deal they were better off than normal by a long shot.

In one of the cupboards they had found a stack of games, including Twister, and a semi-inebriated festival of contortions had ensued with Lorne spectating from his position at the piano stool. Trapped or no, there were some things he would not do. Besides, if he fell on one of those kids they’d snap like a twig. After about an hour or so, they had finally given up and a couple of the kids were now playing chess, while the other two were playing some form of two-person patience.

"So," one of the card players asked. "We know how we got roped in to this, but what’s your story. I can’t say I’ve seen many like you sleeping out downtown."

"I hang out with a bad crowd," Lorne replied.

"You trying to tell me you’re part of some sort of gang?" the kid responded with a healthy scepticism.

"Might as well be. I’ve been threatened at gunpoint. Had my bar wrecked not once but three times. First time they drove a car into it. Then some acquaintances of an acquaintance of mine shot it up with SMG’s. Last time, they just rolled in a lighted gas cylinder and blew the place to smithereens. That was when I gave up my listing in the Zagat’s Guide. I get knocked out and tied up on a semi-regular basis, but kidnapping’s a new one… unless you count that not entirely voluntary trip to another dimension when they made me visit mommy dearest."

"Sounds like you could do with some new friends." This was the female chess player.

"So I have even more people to get me into trouble?"

"So what was with that guy you were looking after before? Where’s he?" she continued her questioning.

"Spike? I could say he’s a friend of a friend but I don’t think friendship covers whatever him and Angel have." Lorne took another sip of his drink and made a face. "Actually I don’t think there is a word that could describe the pair of them."

"But he was a vampire, right?"

"No foolin’ you, strudel."

"And that woman who was hurting him and the one with the camera? They were vampires, too?"

"Uh huh," Lorne confirmed.

"So what’s up with that? Shouldn’t they be on the same side? Or shouldn’t they just kill each other? What’s with all the chains and burns and stuff? I mean the way he was hitting all her buttons I’d have said ex in capital letters, but I couldn’t work out whether they hated each other’s guts or whether they were going to bone each other on the spot and then the way she carried him out, I mean it was her that did all that to him but she carried him out like, I don’t know… Like she was going to look after him."

"Nobody said love made sense, dumpling."

"So you’re saying they were in love. That’s what passes for foreplay in vampire circles?"

"Were in love. Emphasis on the were. Blondie found himself someone else. That’s what got the lady’s panties in a bunch. All’s fine with the world as long as the ex is miserable but as soon as he finds his soul-mate…"

"Okay, so that whole torture scene was all just a variation on the whole ‘Hell hath no fury’ riff, but where is he? I mean he was locked up just as much as we were. More, even. So where is he now?"

"Wrong question, my petit four."

"What?"

"Where he is isn’t half as important as who he is." A noise from one of the upstairs rooms distracted Lorne from answering further. "Can anybody else hear that?"

The other four in the room shook their heads, but Lorne still headed for the stairs at a run, only for the noise to stop before he could reach the upstairs landing.

"What’s up?" The girl he’d been talking to moved to the bottom of the stairs to see what had prompted his hurried departure.

"A phone. I’m sure I heard a phone."

The kids all shook their heads. "Wishful thinking. None of us heard anything, and even those two would have made an appearance if a phone had rung."

Although he was far from convinced, Lorne let himself be talked back to his position at the piano and by the time he’d exhausted his repertoire of Tamla Motown classics he’d forgotten all about the noise he thought he’d heard.

"Hey, you guys. That woman said we had plenty of water, didn’t she?" the male half of the couple called from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah. What’s the problem?" one of the girls asked.

"Well, Donna was just having a bath and when she went to top it up all the pipes kind of rattled, then nothing came out."

"That selfish bitch!"

"What? It’s not her fault. We were supposed to have plenty of water?"

"Yeah, but do you know how long we can run the lighting in this room on the electricity it takes to heat a bath of water, let alone top it up? Why do you think everybody else is sitting in one room? Why do you think we all had showers instead of baths?"

"She gets backaches. We thought a bath would loosen up her muscles a bit, okay?"

"Considering she’s the reason we’re all stuck here, I say she should just put up with a bit of backache, at least till we manage to get to where we have access to the generator."

"Kiddies," Lorne interrupted before the mudslinging could get any worse. "I think we’re missing the point. Why would our gracious hostess want us to think we had plenty water when we haven’t? I think it’s time we started checking what’s behind all the locked doors round here to see if there are any more toy surprises. In the meantime, if the water’s only just run out upstairs then I suggest someone tries the taps in the kitchen. There should be a few more feet of pressure there. Fill all the pans, buckets, whatever else you can find to put it in that isn’t going to make it undrinkable afterwards. When you’ve done that, take a jug or whatever you can find and empty all the toilet tanks. We’re going to need that water for drinking never mind anything else. Anyone needs to go, use the bathroom in the furthest room. No one’s sleeping there.

And tell your other half not to empty that tub when she gets out. It’ll do for washing dishes if nothing else."

Lorne couldn’t help but have a really bad feeling about this. It could just be an added layer of discomfort, but their jailers had to know that given time they would find a way out of the cabin. No, there was more to this than met the eye.

The two chess players headed for the kitchen. Lorne led the rest of the group back upstairs. There were at least three locked rooms up there.

"Okay, any of you guys any good with locks or are we looking at brute force?" Lorne asked as they came to the first locked door.

"I can have a go," the remaining girl replied. "Sometimes it’s hard to find somewhere out of the rain," she explained as she headed for the room she had laid claim to. A few seconds later she returned with a small roll of cloth. She extracted a couple of small metal tools from the roll and proceeded to manipulate the lock in a manner that completely mystified the green demon.

After some minutes, even the pregnant girl made an appearance, but the door remained locked. Lorne sighed. "Maybe we should be looking for something to use as a battering ram. No offence, but you don’t seem to be getting anywhere, sugar pie."

Without taking her eyes from the lock the girl replied. "Hang onto your britches, there. You shouldn’t believe everything you see in films. This takes time. Now, shut up, so I can hear."

Another couple of minutes after that, she withdrew her tools from the keyhole and opened the door with a flourish.

The group looked curiously at what seemed to be just another bedroom. "Okay, you guys go through everything you can find here. Check all the drawers. Go through the pockets of any clothes that are in the wardrobe. If all the other bedrooms were left open there has to be a reason this one was locked. Come on, sweet thing, you’ve got another two locked doors to get open."

Lorne took a hefty swig of neat vodka. So far they had found two bedrooms. Apart from some bits and pieces of not particularly expensive jewellery there didn’t seem to be any reason why these rooms were locked when others were left open. Lorne corrected himself. To most people the jewellery wouldn’t be expensive, to these kids it probably represented a small fortune. The third room had proven to be a small office. A radio phone that had once provided communication with the outside world had been smashed.

The real goldmine was the cell phone he had found tossed in the back of a drawer. The only problem was that there was no charger with it, and the power indicator was showing just one bar. If he picked the wrong number to call, he could blow their only chance.

The phone book entries were no good either, with such cryptic entries as B, G & R; C & L; W (No way he was trying that one. It had way too many digits.); TGP(Now, that one looked familiar for some reason. Actually, wasn’t that the number for Angel Investigations but, if he called it now, then there wouldn’t be anyone there. Unless the hurried departure earlier was because… Hell, just call the number.

Lorne finished off his drink and called the number.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

"Fred, honey. It’s Lorne. I’m calling from a cell and the battery’s nearly flat."

"Okay. Hang up now. I’ll *69 and I’ll try to get Angel, again. If I get through, I’ll get him to call you back. Okay?"

"Sure, bye."

A couple of minutes later the cell phone rang again. "Angel?"

"Sorry, Lorne. It’s just Fred. I tried getting hold of him, well, any of them, but they must all still have their phones switched off so they don’t interfere with the helicopter’s electronics and stuff."

"Any of who, and what helicopter?" Lorne asked.

"Angel, Gunn and that girl Buffy that used to be dead and her boyfriend and this other girl Willow from Sunnydale. They borrowed a helicopter. Buffy’s boyfriend said he could find where they were keeping you. They’ve been gone hours now. I thought they might have got there by now. Actually, they really should be there. Look, I’m going to go now. Help’s on its way. Get someone to call back when they get there."

Lorne cut the connection and heaved a sigh of relief. Help was on its way. If Fred was right they had to be here soon. The flight had only taken just over an hour on the way here. Even if they were in a slower machine, if they had been gone hours they had to be close.

Lorne concentrated as hard as he could on blocking out the sounds the kids were making, trying to focus instead on any sounds coming from outside. It could just be wishful thinking, but he was sure he could hear the sound of helicopter rotors in the distance.

"Everybodyyyyy! Shut up!" he yelled at the top of his voice.

All other sounds in the cabin stilled to nothing. It was unmistakably the sound of a helicopter’s rotors. Unfortunately, Lorne was almost certain the noise was becoming fainter, rather than louder.

In the cellar, the clock reached zero.

"I’m telling you it’s there," Spike insisted.

"And I’m telling you there’s no way anybody could land there. The slope’s too steep and there’s too much tree cover," the pilot answered.

"Look, Spike. I think you’ve got turned around a bit. It’s easily done." Angel tried to pacify the irate vampire. "You said yourself the place was the size of a small hotel and it was on a plateau half way up a cliff face. If there was anything like that round here we’d have found it by now."

"Balls to easily done. That peak was to the south-west, and that river down there was at the foot of the cliff."

"Then how come you’ve made us go up and down this stretch of river five times now and we ain’t seen nothing?" Gunn asked, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender when the younger vampire gave him a glare that would cut glass. "Just saying."

"Look, we’re going to have to head back now to that bit we saw near the fork in the ravine and land. There’s nowhere to land anywhere nearer and we’ve only just got enough fuel to make it back there. We brought enough fuel to fill the tank back up. We can afford to poke around for another three quarters of an hour once we’ve refuelled before we have to go back. After that, there’s nothing we can do except head for home. Okay?"

"Sure." Angel answered for all of them.

"It’s there." Spike continued to assert, sounding like nothing so much as a petulant child.

"Spike," Willow tried to reason with the vampire. "Is there anything else you can remember?"

"I’ve told you, already."

"Spike, we would have seen it," the redhead asserted.

"Unless you can’t. What if it’s like Rack’s place? Eh?" Spike saw the first crack in Willow’s certainty. "You of all people should know things aren’t always how they seem."

"Doesn’t make no difference, unless we could see that place right this minute, we’d still have to turn back. You’re going to have to go back to your seat," the helicopter’s owner told Spike. The blond vamp had taken to standing bent over behind the pilots to get the best possible view of the terrain as they neared the area where the cabin was located (or so Spike kept insisting). Spike returned to his seat and belted himself in as the pilot banked into a turn. Buffy took his hand as he resumed his seat, squeezing it gently in a gesture of support.

The pilots exchanged looks with each other. Heaven knew they were getting paid a lot for this little midnight jaunt, and they’d known that Nabbit was eccentric. Okay, he was barking mad but he had enough money that he was called eccentric. So when he said he’d pay them ten times the normal rate if they took the charter no questions asked, they’d just figured he could afford it. Now, they were beginning to think that there wasn’t enough money to make up for the bickering about invisible cabins that was coming from behind them.