Things That Go Bump in the Night

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Chapter Twenty-Seven
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"Who's Willie?" Joe asked in the silence that followed everyone's departure, and Willow's hasty dash after Spike.

"He owns a bar on the edge of town. It's frequented by all manner of vampires and demons," Giles explained. "He knows a lot of things he probably shouldn't."

"Ah," Joe nodded knowingly, "he's a snitch."

Tara snickered, and nodded.

Joe turned to face Giles. "I don't know about you, but I've never been one for waiting around while other people did the leg work. What are we going to do?"

Tara looked surprised. "But, Angel implied he w-wanted us to stay here."

Giles grinned, his expression making Joe wonder how much more there was to the man than met the eye. "Well, it's a good thing Angel isn't in charge then, isn't it?"

Joe rose to his feet, and nodded once. "What have you got in mind?"

"We're going to go get supplies. We'll need stakes, holy water, and any other weapons we can get our hands on."

"What about Willow," Tara asked nervously, "and Spike?"

"We can't leave them here alone," Joe stated firmly. "They'll have to come with us."

**

Ricardo grinned as he watched Richard and his friends while waiting impatiently for a response to the faxed report he'd sent to headquarters. Being the first to report an ex-Watcher becoming Immortal would be quite the feather in his cap. Although, he wished it wasn't Adam. He hated knowing he wouldn't be able to associate with the man anymore. They hadn't been close, but they'd talked several times. Ricardo liked the man, but unlike Joe, he wasn't one to buck the rules.

He'd been surprised when Joe hadn't accompanied Richie, but had shut that aside quickly, figuring he'd find out the reason soon enough. He stopped suddenly. But Joe's absence *could* mean he'd found out about Adam's Immortality. If that was the case, the older watcher might have stayed with Adam, since he was here to watch Richard. Joe might even have made a report before he had. Ricardo frowned. That could very well be the reason he had not had a response to the report he'd sent in hours ago. If his was a second 'sighting', they wouldn't bother getting back to him while he was still in the field -- not right away, at least.

The three people he was following disappeared around a corner, and it was with a sudden start that he quickly hurried forward. Sheepishly berating himself for worrying about who had reported first, he focused his attention on his assignment. He rounded the corner into the alley just in time to see the girl shove someone up against the wall of one of the local shops. He frowned, darting quickly back behind the corner, and then peering around it. He was too far away to hear what was said, but the person the girl was accosting cringed away from her.

**What the hell has Richie gotten himself mixed up in?** Ricardo thought incredulously. The young Immortal had almost always been a pleasant assignment. He wasn't like Ricardo's last assignment. Now *that* had been one sick bastard. This just plain didn't sit well, though. This wasn't like Richie at all, but as far as he could see, Richard Ryan wasn't doing a damn thing to stop the girl from her harassment.

He sighed, pulling back around to his side of the corner, and leaning against the store front. He just hoped this might be a temporary aberration and that Richie would tire of it quickly. He took a quick peak, shaking his head. If it turned out it wasn't temporary, he just might request reassignment. He really didn't think he could handle watching the young man 'go bad'. It just might break his heart. His own son wasn't *that* much younger than Richie. It would be like watching him go bad.

A sudden vibration against his hip made him jump, and it was only with long practice that he managed not to yelp. Taking a deep breath, he stepped away from the corner and into the relative privacy of the alcove of the closed store's doorway. "Martin," Ricardo answered, the moment he had his cell phone out and active, and almost as quickly held the receiver away from his ear as he was blasted with a bellow from his supervisor.

"Yes, Sir," he replied as soon as it was safe to return the phone to his face. "I'm absolutely serious. He was challenged by a known Immortal."

"Who?"

"Spencer Trent. I included that in my report."

Staticky silence greeted his announcement.

"Hello? You still there?"

"Yes, and I know you did. I just hadn't believed it. You say Richie *won* that confrontation?"

"Yes, he did," Ricardo related excitedly. "He let the bastard spit him like a turkey at thanksgiving, then before Spencer could pull his sword out, he grabbed the blade -- *bare handed* -- and whipped his own sword around, slicing the guy's head off before the asshole knew what hit him."

A deep heartfelt sigh sounded across the wire. "Ryan got lucky," Weston announced shortly.

"Oh yeah!" Ricardo breathed. "He sure as hell did! When Spencer's sword went into his gut, I thought I was gonna be reassigned for sure."

"Do you know where Adam Pierson is right now?"

"Well, as of an hour and a half ago, he was still at the mansion I mentioned in the report. Richie left at that time, and I've been following him."

"Unless something significant is happening to Ryan, drop him for now and head back. I'm sending someone up there to follow Pierson, but I want you to keep an eye on him until they get there."

"I don't know whether what's happening with Richard is *significant* or not, but he's acting out of character."

"He is? Damn!"

Ricardo waited out the muffled silence that sounded like Weston had placed his hand over his receiver's mouth piece.

"Stay with Ryan. You said it looked like he was Pierson's teacher?"

"Yes, Sir -- leastwise, he didn't deny it when Spencer asked him about it, and he certainly acted like he was."

"Then hopefully, Pierson won't go anywhere without Ryan. Let us know if any more odd occurrences happen."

**

Doyle preceded him and Adam into the mansion, none of them happy about the results of their trip to Willie's. Angel sighed softly. They'd found out a few new tidbits, but it hadn't been near enough. He knew that if they didn't find *something* out soon, Doyle was likely to go out of his mind -- and he didn't even know the worst of it. Angel had kept quiet, but he'd been dying to ask Adam if he was right about Cordelia or not.

That first night Adam had implied the 'oddness' Angel had sensed all along in Xander had been the boy's potential to become Immortal, but Angel wasn't sure enough that they had been talking about the same thing to know whether or not what he sensed about Cordelia was the same thing. For Doyle's sake, he kept quiet. He figured Adam knew for sure, one way or the other, and if *he* didn't, Richie would.

He swallowed uneasily. Cordelia was in more trouble than Doyle suspected if she *was* destined to be Immortal, and that possibility was playing havoc with Angel's heart. He'd become fond of her-- He almost snorted out loud. **Fond?** He closed his eyes. He was more than fond of the girl, but he dare not admit it to anyone. He didn't even want to admit it to himself. Even if he were free of the curse, Doyle was elbow over tea kettle for her, and Angel wasn't about to do anything to alienate either of his friends.

The sound of glass shattering against stone brought Angel instantly out of his depressing thoughts as he frantically searched the room for the source of the trouble. His shoulders slumped when he realized what had happened. The broken shards of the glass vase, now resting on the floor near the fire place, and Doyle staring at him angrily, said all that needed to be said. He started to apologize.

"Damn it, Angel! We've *got* to figure this out. This isn't LA!" Doyle blurted out. "Sunnydale is a small town -- tiny, miniscule! It shouldn't be this difficult to discover where they've taken her!"

"Doyle," Angel began soothingly.

"No! Don't tell me to calm down. I get mind bending visions of all sorts of people in trouble, but now, when it's Cordelia in trouble, and we know damn well we don't have any time, the powers that be are stubbornly, damningly silent. Why, Angel? Why?"

"God, I don't know, Doyle. I just don't know. Maybe it's because we already know she's in trouble. You know the visions aren't usually all that clear."

"Don't give me that, Angel! If they hadn't sent that other, stupid, *inaccurate* vision, she wouldn't even have been up here to be taken in the first place! They owe us!"

Angel took in a sharp, startled breath. Doyle was right. If they hadn't come running up here to help Willow -- who hadn't actually needed help, Cordelia wouldn't have been here either.

"What inaccurate vision?" Adam asked quietly.

Angel almost rounded on Adam, but managed, at the last minute, to calm himself enough to explain the reason they'd come to Sunnydale. He frowned as Adam suddenly looked very thoughtful, gazing across at Doyle.

"Maybe," Adam began slowly, "if you three hadn't come up here, the pieces wouldn't have fallen together the way they have, and more people would die?"

Doyle looked torn -- like he wanted to protest Adam's words, and Angel could understand exactly why. Right now, he didn't care about 'what ifs' either; he only cared about how to get the woman he was responsible for out of danger. Instead, his seer spun around, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Angel strode out of the room, the growing tension in the room was difficult to be around. That, and he had to speak with Spike.

**

"No one's here," Angel spat angrily, storming back into the living room, startling both the men there.

They cast each other a concerned glance before facing him again.

"What do you mean, no one's here?" Adam asked. "Weren't they supposed to wait here for us?"

"Yes, they were."

"Angel, man, you can't expect them to sit on their arses at your command, you know," Doyle pointed out.

Angel blinked at his friend and seer, his righteous anger suddenly deflating. "You're right, of course, but damn it--"

The door opened admitting Buffy first, followed by Xander and Richie. Hope rose, and was quickly dashed as, not only were Spike and the others not with them, but the three that did tromp in didn't exactly look like they'd been any more successful than Angel's group.

Xander's eyes lit up as he saw the three of them, but before he could say anything at all, the door opened again and several more of their large group entered, each one carrying at least one bag. Of what, Angel didn't know, but right that second he didn't care overly much. As soon as he saw Spike he strode forward. He may not have any authority with any of the others, but he sure as hell did with Spike.

"I told you to stay put, Spike," Angel spat.

"Sod off!" Spike retorted, pushing past him.

His hand shot out, and he grabbed Spike's arm, but as soon as he did so, he found himself surrounded. Willow punched his free arm, and he stared down at the tiny girl in shock.

"Leave him alone!" she demanded angrily.

She hadn't hurt him, but the utter surprise of her verbal and physical attack was enough to make him release his wayward Childe, and Spike slipped past him into the main part of the living room. "What?"

"You heard me," she retorted stubbornly, her eyes and face hard and angry.

"She's right," Giles concurred mildly. His words were soft, but his face was as set as Willow's. "The others followed your directives because they made sense, *not* because you have any authority here."

Angel backed up a step. "Of course not, I never assumed I did, but with Sp--"

"No buts, Deadboy," Xander snapped, making Angel spin around in yet another of continuing surprises. For all he knew, it was now snowing in hell. *Xander* was defending *Spike*? He almost commented on it, the acidic words fairly burning his tongue. It wasn't Xander's outraged, yet confused expression that stopped him. It wasn't Doyle and Adam's silence. It was Spike's look of complete and utter shock, that stayed his damning words. If he didn't know better, he would be willing to swear that Spike was near to tears. He blinked. In the entire time he'd known Spike, he'd seen his Childe cry only once, and that had been when Drusilla had left him.

Had Spike found a place here with Buffy and the 'scoobies'? Before this very moment, Angel wouldn't have thought it possible, but now he wasn't so sure. He was more outsider here than Spike. Even Xander, who had hated and tormented Angel had leaped to Spike's defense. He almost laughed then. Xander was beginning to look like he'd swallowed a lemon, or maybe something worse . . . like a cockroach. Obviously the young man been as surprised by his defense of the younger vampire as Angel was, and it wasn't sitting very well.

Angel backed down, turning back to face Giles. "Did you find anything out?" he asked quietly.

Giles shook his head. "We were gathering weapons, not intelligence. All of you had that covered. Did *you* find anything?"

"Nothing that'll help us," he replied dejectedly.

Xander leaped forward, tense anger radiating from him in waves. "You've *got* to be kidding! You can't tell me, you didn't find out anything new about the demons after me, *or* the ones that took Cordelia." Spinning around, and pacing halfway across the large, open room, Xander threw his arms out to the side in an eloquent gesture of frustrated helplessness, then turning back to face Angel, he caught the vampire's gaze and held it squarely. "What are they doing to her? What if it's the same ones that tried to get me? What if they hurt her because they *can't* get to me?"

Angel tensed, wanting nothing more than to yell back at the young man. He desperately wanted to get right into Xander's face and take out some of his own frustration, and it was with every ounce of willpower he possessed that he took a deep breath instead, answering quietly. "Nothing concrete, Xander. I think our biggest problem is the fact it doesn't seem to be limited. According to Willie a *lot* of different demons are talking about the 'quickened one', including some vampires."

"If everyone's talking about it, why is it so difficult to get good information?" Willow asked with a slight frown.

"Everyone shuts up when Willie gets close enough to hear anything. He hasn't been able to find out anything we didn't already know."

A heavy silence descended at Angel's announcement. It seemed everywhere they turned they came up against another brick wall. Buffy finally stepped forward and lay a gentle hand on Xander's shoulder. "If they contact us because they took her to get to you, we'll figure something out," she said softly, but with an underlying fierceness that no one doubted. "I promise, Xander."

"Damn straight we will," Doyle responded firmly, then his expression twisted slightly, revealing his own insecurities, and it was with bitterness that he continued. "We didn't find out anything about the ritual itself, though -- like where it's being held. It's gonna be tough to find her!"

"I hate this!" Xander suddenly exploded. "I hate being cooped up here, not being able to *do* anything!"

Joe's head jerked up suddenly, looking directly at Xander. "Quickened one?" he asked softly, then added, "you're an Immortal."

Xander and Adam both nodded in Joe's direction, Adam turning back to the agitated young man. "Being here, is better than the alternative, Xander."

Xander glared at the Immortal and threw himself down onto the couch. "Oh, *you're* a big help," he muttered sarcastically.

"Since we can't seem to find out anything about this ritual, we wait. As long as we keep Xander safe until after midnight everything will be fine. Once the time for the ritual has passed--"

"We can't," Adam interrupted.


"Can't what?" Buffy asked, frowning at him.

"Wait," Adam replied.

Everyone suddenly was staring at the Immortal, and Angel was pretty sure he knew why Adam thought they couldn't wait. He'd been right about Cordelia.

"Why not?" Willow asked.

"Because," Adam replied slowly, his face shadowed, his expression pensive, "she fulfills everything I've heard said about this prophecy."

Shouts of "what?" came from several different directions, but before Adam or Angel could explain further, Xander spoke up.

"She's like me," he said softly, his voice sounding stunned.

"That's why we thought we should all stay together," Adam nodded.

"Why not just *tell* us?" Buffy demanded angrily. "We can't protect our friends if we don't know they need protection!"

Adam sighed unhappily. "Because it really is better if a preImmortal doesn't know."

Buffy frowned at Adam, clearly unsatisfied with his explanation. "Let's go," she said, heading toward the door without waiting for anyone.

"Where to, Buffy?" Giles asked patiently. "Running off half-cocked isn't going to help Cordelia."

"Back to Willie's," she retorted, fire flashing in her eyes. "And if he knows what's good for him he'll have something new to tell us. If they can use her instead of Xander, sitting around here isn't going to help, Giles!"

"No," Doyle said, rising to his feet, and gaining Buffy's instant, irate attention, "that may not work, and we don't have time to find out for sure." He paused then, and Angel wondered what he was up to. His seer looked very uncomfortable all of a sudden, and Angel wasn't sure he liked what that implied.

"But I know a way we might get the information more easily."

Angel's eyes widened in outright shock. "Are you sure?" he asked incredulously.

Doyle hesitated briefly before answering. "No," he nodded, his word and action at odds, "but it's our only chance."

"What are you two talking about?" Buffy demanded impatiently, looking from one of them to the other. "We don't have time for some huge debate. We've got less than 6 hours until it's time for the ritual to be completed."

Neither Angel nor Doyle answered her immediately. They stared at each other for a long moment before Angel nodded nearly imperceptibly, turning toward Buffy. "Doyle is half demon."


TBC