Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer as always for her help and patience. Special thanks in this instance to Lori for stepping up to the plate while t_geyer is out of town.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.05
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Buffy was off the bike in a second, not even bothering to remove her helmet. She unravelled the bundle of leather to find the purse at its centre.

"It's hers."

Spike could almost visibly see Buffy raising the same mental walls, as that day with Glory at the gas station replayed in both their minds.

He flung himself off the bike. Striding over to where she stood and gripping her by the shoulders, he shook her as hard as he could.

"Don't you dare even think of hiding away in that head of yours, slayer. This isn't your fault, and that there puddle isn't her blood, but if you quit now and something does happen to her you'll never know if you could have stopped it."

"You know? " Buffy looked to the vampire for confirmation.

"Of course, I bloody know. Bit's made from you. Her blood sings, and this... it's like the difference between Barry Manilow and a two hundred strong Welsh voice choir singing Bach. It isn't hers. It could be the boy's. It could be one of theirs, but there isn't one drop of it hers. Now, are you with me?"

"I'm with you. So, what now? The hospital or here?"

"Here and then the hospital. If she made it there, she'll be gettin' looked after. If she's inside and someone's after her, she could still be in trouble." He pulled Buffy's phone from his pocket, passing it to her. "If you get Red and Wes to go straight to the hospital when he's dropped off Tara with Harris and the missus, then maybe we'll find out all the sooner."

The pair combed the club from balcony to backstage and everywhere in between. Spike's keen eyesight spotted Brandon's helmet and the one sitting next to it in the cloakroom, but he chose not to worry Buffy further. They were just about to head out, when they heard back from Wesley.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah, Wes. What's the sitch?"

"It's not good, I'm afraid. Brandon was brought in a little while ago by his father, but Dawn wasn't with them."

"Well, what did he say? What happened?"

"He's not saying much of anything from what I gather. We haven't managed to get near him. He's in ICU and there's a policeman outside the room in case he comes 'round long enough to make a statement. Buffy, I get the impression they're not really expecting him to pull through. Willow's going to try what she called an old Jedi mind trick to see if she can get in, but she wants to recover a bit from helping with the barrier spells around The Magic Box and Lily's apartment first."

"Shoot. I guess they're playing for keeps. Is there anything Willow can do?"

"She won't know until she actually sees what's wrong. I think the reason she wants to recoup some of her power is more to do with what she anticipates she might have to do once we get in, than actually getting in."

"Well, unless Tara can come up with a location, it's the best we've got. See ya in ten." Buffy ended the call and turned to Spike.

"I'm guessing you heard most of both sides of that."

"Enough to know I don't have to string the boy up for not taking proper care of her. Let's go."

---

"Hey, honey, I'm home," Sam called out as she made her way through the back door of the clapboard house. Riley stretched and rose from his position at the rather grubby window and went to meet her.

"Hey you." He stooped to give her a kiss. "Not that I'm complaining but I didn't expect to see you tonight. I thought you were going to be busy over on the other side of town."

"We were. It's done. Henriksen and Ogilvy are taking care of the clean-up now. I take it your vampire isn't co-operating."

Riley shook his head and wandered back toward the window he'd been watching from earlier. It wasn't really good luck that the house opposite 1630 Revello was empty. In fact, indirectly it was actually Spike's fault. The house had remained unsold since the death of the previous owner, last time someone had used it to spy on the Summers household. "No sirree. I don't know who this new guy is, but he seems to be running a motorbike taxi service. First, he brings Dawn home, then Willow, and then they left again about five, ten minutes later. And between visits Dawn heads out with some other biker.

The guys at Spike's old crypt have seen zip, so they're not there and they're not patrolling. All the guys've got is some decomposing sub-T in the basement, and even for Spike that's pretty crappy housekeeping.

As for the apartment he's supposed to be subletting from Anya, we checked out her lease and got the address, but no one's been there all day. We've got men there just in case, but..." He shrugged.

"You think he's on to you? Skipped town?" Sam asked.

"No. He's too arrogant for that. If he's really managed to convince Buffy and the others that she's in love with him, he'd more likely come looking for me than the other way around. He'd be in my face about it."

"Doesn't he know you're a happily married man?" Sam asked in what seemed to be a teasing voice. In reality, although she had little or no affection for the man she'd married, she'd heard more than she wanted to know about the slayer and her penchant for vampire lovers, repeated far more often than necessary, in her time with him.

"A monster like him wouldn't even understand the concept."

"Okay. Enjoy your stakeout. I'm just going to take a walk, check on the others, and then I'm going to head back to Lowell for a nice, hot, soapy bubble-bath. If you get finished quick enough, you could always join me." She gave Riley a long deep kiss and a wicked smile before she left, not in anticipation of conjugal passion, as Riley thought, but at the idea of leaving him aroused and frustrated. "Tell Graham and the other guys upstairs I said hello."

---

"I don't see why we have to all be here. Shouldn't we be out looking for Dawn if she's missing?" Xander asked from his seat at the research table.

"Because the more we split up the more vulnerable we are, honey." Anya replied as she checked the shelves, in preparation for making up a purchase order for one of her suppliers.

"Well, couldn't we have been just as not vulnerable at our place, with the food and the beer and the Seven of Nine special on cable?"

"But here we have weapons, and spell components and sewer access. And if anything gets broken, Giles owns a share and has to help replace it, rather than it all belonging to us."

"Okay, I get the rest, but surely sewer access is of the bad. We don't want a whole bunch of special ops commando guys swarming under our nice comfy barrier."

"It's okay, Xander," Tara assured him. "Willow and I left kind of a trapdoor in the basement, but you have to know the password to use it, so we can get out, and if there's trouble at their place Clem and his family can come in, or Willow, Wes, Buffy and Spike, but that's it. And we can find Dawn quicker by doing a locator spell, which I'll be doing shortly, by the way, than by wandering the streets."

"Not to mention it's far less dangerous," Anya added.

---

"Hey." Willow's mouth twisted up slightly to match her very subdued welcome.

"Hey, Will." Buffy and the redhead met in a hug of mutual consolation. Across their heads, Spike's eyes met Wesley's before, with identical minuscule shakes of their heads, they dismissed any idea of following suit, and Spike walked around the two women to greet the former watcher.

"Any fresh news?" asked the vampire.

"Not so far."

"Let's go," Willow instructed. "And Spike, when we get there, let me do the talking; just stay quiet."

"What? I never said a bloody word."

"Just keep it that way," the redhead instructed.

"Won't it be harder for you to get us all in the room than if you were going on your own?" Buffy asked.

"A bit," Willow admitted. "But if we all get in and I can do anything to help heal him, then I can draw energy from you and Wes to do it while Spike stands guard." Spike and Wes seemed to take this at face value, but Buffy was puzzled.

"Wouldn't you be able to draw more energy from Spike than from Wes, what with the supernaturally strong gig and all?"

Spike shook his head, intervening before Willow's embarrassment would allow her to do it.

"Evil, dead things and healing mojo don't exactly go tiptoeing through the tulips hand in hand, pet. There's plenty energy, but it's all the wrong sort. Red's got the right of it. I'll keep an eye on the door."

As they neared the room with the police officer sitting on a chair outside it, Willow seemed to gain a marvellous focus, her entire being concentrated on the task in hand.

"Good evening, officer. Excuse us, my students and I need to go through to visit Mr Michaels."

"Your students?"

"Yes, medical students. We don't get many wounds like this, and it's important that their training covers as wide a cross-section as possible."

"If you say so, doctor."

The officer moved his chair aside and allowed the group to enter the room. As soon as they were inside Willow breathed a sigh of relief and dropped the blinds so that no one could see in from the corridor outside. She moved to the chart that hung from the foot of the bed, trying to make sense of the notes there but having difficulty due to the hurried handwriting and technical terms.

After about twenty seconds, Spike impatiently snatched the clipboard from her hands. Scanning down the pages he summarised his findings.

"He's been shot"

"Well, I worked that out."

"It's lodged too close to the heart, and he's too weak from blood-loss for them to risk operating, but in the meantime one of his lungs is filling up with blood. According to this it's just a matter of time before something gives. Add a bump on the head, probably from when he fell, and the fact he already had God knows what in his system before that, so they've got to be pretty careful about what drugs they might give him and he's in a fine mess."

"Pretty good for a layman," came the voice from behind them. "Almost exactly how they explained it to me, in fact. Now, perhaps you'll tell me what you're doing in my son's room and how you got past the police guard out there."

Buffy shot an irritated glance at her fiancé. "You couldn't watch the door like you were meant to? Em, Mr Michaels, I'm Buffy-."

"I know who you are, Miss Summers, Miss Rosenberg, Spike ...or do you prefer Hostile 17? The question I asked is what you're doing here. My son is dying. Isn't that enough for you people?"

"If you know who we are, then, you know that we're responsible for Dawn." Somehow, even though Spike was a good six inches shorter than the other man, the cold inhuman anger in his eyes made the difference seem irrelevant as he closed the gap between them with slow, measured strides. "Now, maybe your son is beyond help and maybe he isn't, but Dawn is missing and your son might be able to tell us where we can find her. Even if that wasn't the case, if you really knew these people you would know that they would do what they could to help your son. We would do it because he earned our loyalty when he stood by Dawn. They would do it simply because it's the right thing to do. Hell, we'd even do it because if Dawn found out we lost her bloody date for that damn formal none of our lives would be worth living.

Medical science doesn't hold out much hope for your boy. I guess it's up to you whether we see if good old-fashioned mysticism can do any better, but if that were my boy lying in that bed, I'd be grovelling at Red's feet 'round about now, rather than trying to piss her off.

Now, I think you owe the ladies an apology."