Chapter 1.03
Saturday, May 11th, 2002

"Hey," Buffy held out Spike's duster toward him. "We decided to skip dinner and go straight to the part where I tell dad to screw his country club and walk out."

Spike pulled his coat from Buffy's grasp, donning it as he made his brusque reply. "Really, pet. I'm pleased for you?" His tone was cruel, almost sarcastic. He stuck his index finger and pinkie into his mouth and let forth a piercing whistle that brought an empty taxi slaloming across lanes to pull in next to them in seconds.

"Why don't you take your brat kid sister and bugger off then?" Spike pulled open the rear door of the cab.

"Sp-" Buffy started to protest even as Dawn climbed into the back seat of the cab.

"Just for once, do what you're fucking told without arguing, you stupid bitch." Spike manhandled Buffy into the back of the cab, a feat he managed largely due to her shocked lack of resistance. In a softer tone he added, "Get clear of here before you give him any directions. Don't go back to where we left the car or anywhere else I know about. Tell the others to move but don't let any of them know where you are and don't try to contact me before sunup. Got that?"

"Spike, wha-"

"Get out of here, Slayer!" Spike slammed the cab door even as Buffy tried to speak to him, tapping on the roof to send it onward. Stepping back onto the pavement, he pulled a fresh cigarette from his pack and lit it.

He fixed his gaze on a dark alley on the far side of six lanes of traffic, his eyes able to see something in the shadows that wasn't visible to the human eye. He gave a last glance at the taxicab, watching its taillights disappear around a corner before he dodged the heavy traffic.

His head tilted slightly to one side, and his lips formed a lopsided smile designed to test the willpower of any female. "Long time, no see, princess," he drawled as he swaggered into the embrace of the woman who was waiting.

"What's going on, Buffy?" Dawn looked to her sister for clarification.

"I don't know, Dawnie. But I intend to find out." Buffy shifted so that she could watch the blond vamp through the cab's rear window. "Circle the block," she ordered the driver. She searched the face of the man she'd woken up beside that morning, but all she could see were the granite-hard planes of the monster she'd met in an alley next to the Bronze, years before. The cab turned off to the right, and she lost even that distant vision.

"Don't you think you should maybe do like he says and go some place that's else?"

"I don't know. Probably. But one circuit isn't going to tip anyone off, and it might let us know what we're up against." Buffy twisted back into a forward facing position. She couldn't work out what made him act the way he had. All she could try to do was the very thing he'd accused her of being incapable of, and trust him. She was still trying to make some sense of his actions when the car pulled back onto the section of road where they had left him. She eagerly scanned the pavement to the right of the road, but it was Dawn's anguished exclamation that drew her attention to where he stood in Dru's pale arms. The diminutive vampiress leant forward, her tongue tracing a trail over one hollowed cheek as Buffy watched.

"Buffy?"

The blonde leant forward to give instructions to the driver. "Straight ahead." Her voice held a hint of defeatism.

"You're just going to let him get away with that?" Dawn's voice was incredulous. "You're going to let him talk to you like that and just walk out on you for his skanky ex?"

"Dawn. Shut up. Alright. I can't think with you..." Buffy stopped short of accusing her sister of whining. She pulled her purse out of her coat pocket, double-checking that she had all her bankcards with her.

She leaned forward again. "Know any decent places to stay the night round here?"

"How much are you wanting to pay?"

"Doesn't have to be anywhere fancy, as long as it's clean." She glanced over to where Dawn had sunk into a sulky slump in her corner of the back seat. "And I suppose it'd be best if it had cable," she added.

The cab dropped them off at a motel a few miles from where she'd left Spike and Dru. Buffy went through the motions of registering on auto-pilot. For the first time in years, her private life had been back on track, and now this.

First, she tried calling Willow and Tara's room at the motel. It rang on and on, either unheard or ignored, until she was forced to give up.

At the next number she tried, well-cultured English tones repeated the digits she'd just dialled and asked her to leave a message after the tone.

"Wesley, if you're there, please pick up. It's Buffy."

She waited several seconds before she spoke again. "Drusilla's in LA. I don't know-"

"Buffy? What's happened? Are you okay?"

"Wes? I'm fine. Well, no I'm not. Spike's with her."

"I see." The funny thing was that she believed that, unlike Dawn, he did. "Why don't you tell me what happened, from the beginning?"

Dawn listened in as Buffy explained about their shopping trip and aborted meal, making her opinion known by way of snorts and eye rolls, until Buffy picked up the phone and locked herself in the room's modest bathroom.

Once he was sure that he had all the relevant information, Wesley asked the big question. "So, Buffy, how exactly do you think I can best be of use?"

"I don't know. Someone's providing the brains for the operation, and LA isn't my town. I don't know who to lean on to get information. Maybe you can make some phone calls. Spike said I shouldn't go anywhere he knew. That means your apartment may not be safe, or it could be as safe as you can get. It depends who's running the show and whether they're prepared to burn you out to get what they want, but it has to be your call. You may have a while before they pick up on you."

"We should arrange a rendezvous, in case you can't reach my mobile or any of us have to move, not that I know where you are, now." Mentally, Wes added that he could use *69 if he wanted to find out.

"Okay. Noon. Out front of the planetarium." Buffy named the most open area she could think of off the top of her head. Before she put down the phone, she couldn't stop herself from adding, "Wes, take care. I couldn't tell how many there were, but can we say overkill? And the Cuckoo Queen's no picnic on her own if she stops gibbering long enough to do her mojo. I still owe her for Kendra."

"I'll be careful. One hostage is quite enough." Wes's final words confirmed Buffy's fears.

Buffy put down the phone, taking a deep breath and thinking calming thoughts of the ocean as Giles had taught her long ago, before she tried Willow and Tara's room again. There was still no answer. Okay, good, they weren't at the motel because they were out having fun somewhere. Bad, they weren't at the motel because Dru and her minions had found the car before they even came looking for Spike and had already eaten them, turned them or were holding them prisoner.

Desperation made Buffy wrack her brains. She took the phone back into the main room and pulled a scruffy copy of the Yellow Pages directory from under the small table that separated the room's twin beds. She was three quarters of the way down the list of diners when she found the name she was searching for. She picked up and dialled the numbers, unaware that she had crossed the fingers on her left hand as she did so.

"Tina's Diner. How can I help?"

"Hi. Em. Some friends of mine are staying at the motel across the road. I can't get any answer when I try their room. I wondered if maybe they were getting something to eat? Two girls? Early twenties? Redhead and a sort of mousy blonde?"

The waitress glanced around. "You got a name to hang on those descriptions, honey?"

"Willow... Rosenberg?"

The waitress watched the pair in the corner as she called out. "Phone call for Willow Rosenberg?" The pair looked over at her questioningly, before the redhead made her way to the counter.

"I'm Willow Rosenberg." The waitress handed over the phone.

On the other side of the road, a young vampiress waited in the shadows with several of her brethren, watching the rooms that the cowering desk clerk had identified as being rented out to the group in the old, black DeSoto Huntsman. Little did they know they had been cheated of their quarry, or perhaps saved from their quarry, simply because Tara and Willow had decided to stop off for pie and coffee on their way back from the nearby multiplex.

"You've been a bad dog," Dru scolded, waving a finger at him,

"But isn't that just how you like me, my sweet thing?" Spike raised an eyebrow and gave her a rakish grin.

"You've been lost. Playing with the white hats, but they shan't keep my precious boy."

"And why's that, poodle?" Spike cajoled.

"I made a present for Grandma, but when I came back, she was gone, and now he sings for me." Spike wondered if he'd ever manage to understand Drusilla's ramblings again.

"So you've got a new boy toy, have you, pet?"

"He barks for me, but he liked Grandma best. He hates Daddy. Once we take off your leash, we can be a family again. All bad dogs together. Me and Spike and Lonesome. We'll make Daddy into a bad dog, too. All four of us. Ruff."

She leant into Spike's body, every inch of her pressed against him as her tongue flicked out to lick his cheek.

A chill ran through Spike, and he didn't know whether Dru was offering him heaven, hell or a little bit of both. "And a few dozen others beside." Spike looked at the mass of vampires, mostly female he noted, who were arrayed around the alley, invisible to the human eye in the dark.

"Lonesome likes children. I'm a great-great-great-Grandmama."

'Great,' thought Spike. 'Trust Dru to end up with a pyramid salesman come would-be neurosurgeon.' Maybe if he'd known the truth, he would have been even more worried.