Methos cautiously pushed open the door to Giles’ apartment, straining his senses to see if he could hear anything from within. Just as he turned back to tell Giles the coast seemed to be clear, a shot rang out, and he collapsed as a bullet passed through his chest.

Spike erupted from the manhole in front of the apartment block, just in time to hear the sound of gunfire coming from the direction of Giles’ home. Putting on a burst of speed, he reached the doorway just in time to see Methos collapse. Swearing loudly, he yanked Giles back, pushed him off to one side, then kicked open the door, and let out an angered snarl. “Show yourself you cowardly wanker. “It’s not like I can’t SMELL you. You reek of fear and dishonesty.” Spike growled as he strode into the apartment. “On second thought, don’t bother; hunting you down will make the blood taste all the sweeter when I rip out your throat.”

“Spike, quit your posturing and help me before he bleeds to death.” Giles shouted from outside the apartment. Kneeling beside Methos’ body, he attempted to staunch the blood-flow.

“Don’t bother Rupert.” Methos whispered raggedly. “I’ll be fine, just give me a moment.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joyce pulled her Jeep into her parking spot in the alley behind the gallery. “Now remember your promise young lady. No touching the displays.”

Dawn gave a small sigh and an eye roll as she murmured her assent. “I know Mom. I know. You’ve kept reminding me on the way over. Not like I’ve had a chance to forget!”

“Mind your manners, Dawn. Or you can sit in the office and stare at the wall.” Joyce said with an exasperated tone in her voice. “Come on, I’ve got a lot of work to do, and sitting here isn’t getting it done.” Joyce exited the vehicle and made her way to the back door of the gallery to unlock it, waiting for her daughter before she went inside.

“What do we do first? Unpack the crates? Dust? Ohhh I wanna dust!” Dawn practically bounced with excitement.

“Since both of those involve touching potentially breakable pieces, no.” Joyce said with a small laugh. “But what you can do is help me with the paperwork before we look at the crates. Okay?”

Dawn sighs dramatically, as only a teenage girl can. “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike stalked forward, his demon reveling in the scent of fear that was swiftly filling his senses. He leaned over the counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, and chortled with glee as he encountered the cowering tweed-clad form of the gunman. “Well lookie here, see what I’ve found.” Spike said as he leapt over the counter and grabbed the man by the throat. “I think I’ve found our wanna-be assassin, Rupes.”

Giles entered his home, assisting Methos who was still a little out of it. “That’s good then.” He gently placed Methos on the couch and fixed a glare on the man Spike was holding. “Care to tell me what this is all about?”

The man garbled something unintelligible and raised a shaky hand to point the gun at Giles.

Spike casually reached out his other hand and ripped the gun out the man’s hand, snapping his wrist in the process. “None of that now, mate. The man asked you a question, and it would be in your best interests to answer him.”

Tossing an exasperated look at Spike, Giles gently reminded him, “He can’t speak with you cutting off his air.”

Looking at the man he was holding, Spike chuckled at the decidedly bluish cast to the man’s features. “Right, got any ropes to tie the wanker up with then? Or do you just want me to bust his legs so he can’t walk?”

Methos let out a short bark of laughter. “As satisfying as it would be to watch him writhe in pain when you break his legs, I think we should just sit him down and ask him a few questions.” He rose to his feet and glared at the man who had shot him. “You ruined a 200$ sweater you berk.”

Spike dragged the man out of the kitchen and forcefully planted him in one of the dining chairs. Standing behind him, Spike kept his hands on the gunman’s shoulders, effectively holding him in place. “Well then, what shall we do with him, gents?

Giles took off his glasses and grinned a decidedly Ripper-like grin. “Why don’t we find out why he’s here first, and then decide what to do with him?”

Spike snarled in repressed anger. “Already know why he’s here old man. Ran into his buddy in the sewers, found out the Council sent them here to kill us.”

“Now why would the Council send a couple of idiots like these to kill the two of you?” Methos asked with a puzzled frown. “I thought you worked for the Council?”

“We do. Or at least I do,” Giles said with a frown. “Maybe they are renegades?” He looked at Spike to see if he had a different opinion.

“Talked to one that tried to ambush me in the sewers. He was right talkative, told me all kinds of interesting things. Like how you are considered a renegade and that you refused orders to kill me.” Spike said with a smirk. “They seem to think that the fact of me helping you stop a couple of apocalypses, and keeping you alive in the bargain, makes you a baaaaad watcher.”


Methos glanced between the two Englishmen with a frown on his face. “Wait a minute, you are telling me that they sent these guys to kill you, because Spike is helping you instead of killing you?” He scratched his chest where the bullet had entered, a thoughtful look on his face. “Has it occurred to you that maybe they sent you to the Hellmouth to die Rupert?”

Giles nodded in understanding. “Actually, yes it had occurred to me, about the time they informed me that “one old vampire” trying to escape his underground imprisonment didn’t warrant the attentions of a Slayer.”

Spike broke in with a disgruntled laugh. “Never mind that the “old vampire” was the Master himself, trying to open the sodding Hellmouth to release some old deity.”

Methos blinked in astonishment, “Master… as in Nest? Heinrich Nest?” He barely waited for the answer to that question before asking another. “Are they out of their fucking minds?”

Spike laughed derisively, “Yeah, they must be. ‘Cause they are seriously pissing me off.”

“Not what I meant, Spike.” Methos said shaking his head. “When Mother hears about this, heads are gonna roll.”