The Fever, Part Eight Author: Elsa Frohman Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: Post Chosen. This is my AU AtS S5. Summary: Spike is back, and he's human -- sort of. He's
working for Wolfram & Hart as an outside contractor.
They left without resistance. Knox watched, frowning silently
as Ralph and Gunn took the jugs of synthetic blood, and Spike
carried Maria out. The tech came to the door as they were
getting in Gunn's truck.
"A word to the wise," he called out to them. "You'd better lose
yourselves good and fast, because the black ops team is already
scrambling. There's not a thing in the world I can do about that.
Headquarters saw everything that just happened on the
surveillance cameras. You've got people coming after you who
you don't want to mess with." With that, he turned and went
back inside.
"Get in back, Ralph," Spike barked as he slid into the
passenger seat with Maria.
Gunn turned the key, and the truck roared to life. The wheels
sent up a spray of gravel as he lurched the vehicle out into the
street.
"We've got to ditch this truck as soon as we can," Gunn said as
he stepped on the gas. "They'll be able to track it."
"We'll steal something else," Spike replied.
Gunn shook his head. "That might be how you used to operate,
but it ain't gonna work for us now. I been workin' with the
black ops team -- no comment please -- for two months now,
and I know how they operate. They'll have every police band
monitored along with most of the traffic cams in town. If we
steal a car, they'll pick it up and know where we are and what
we're driving before we get two blocks."
"So, what do you suggest?"
Gunn shook his head. "I suggest we find a really high building
and jump off it, 'cause it wouldn't be as dumb as what you just
did."
"That's not helping."
The streets were relatively empty, and Gunn wasn't worrying
about speed limits. They sped through a red light and a number
of sudden turns. Gunn seemed to be driving randomly, just
keeping the vehicle moving until he could decide what to do.
"Look, man. I know you got your reasons," Gunn said. "I don't
know what they are, but I'm trustin' you. I'm confused as hell.
But I'm trustin' you. Now you gotta trust me."
Spike gave him a puzzled look.
Gunn pulled into an alley and stopped the truck. He got out his
cell phone and dialed, and waited while the phone on the other
end rang.
"Fred? Yeah, it's me. Wait!"
Gunn stared at the phone in surprise. "She hung up on me."
Spike raised an eyebrow.
"That's gotta mean she's got trouble on her end," Gunn said.
"We've got to get back to the office. She may need help."
"We need help, mate. Fred's going to have to work things out
for herself. If the black ops team is scrambling, they may be
monitoring her phone," Spike said.
"I'm in charge of the damn black ops team," Gunn snapped. "I
was going to have her relay an order to call them off."
"I'm willing to bet they're not taking your calls," Spike replied
darkly. "We've got to get out of here."
Ralph leaned around from the bed of the truck to put his head
outside the driver's side window.
"What's happening?" he asked. "Riding back here is making
me sick!"
Gunn was about to start the truck again when his phone rang.
"Yeah? Fred? Why did you... OK, I'm listening."
Gunn listened for a moment, then snapped the phone closed
and threw it out of the window.
"Why did you do that?" Spike asked.
"Fred pointed out that one of the projects her division is in
charge of is a way to track cell phones even when they're not
transmitting. She's sure her phone is being monitored. She
called me back on a secure line, but she didn't dare talk for
more than a few seconds. She thinks even the secure lines are
monitored. You've got to get rid of your phone, too."
Spike twisted around to get it out of his pocket and drop it out
of the window. It wasn't easy with Maria on his lap, but he
managed it.
"OK, what else?"
"Fred said Wolfram & Hart has the bit in its teeth. Not sure
what that means..."
"It means they aren't following orders, at least not from you or
your buddies."
Gunn took a deep breath and shook his head. "This is bad. If
black ops catches up with us, nobody's every going to hear
from us again, and nobody'll wonder what happened to us,
either."
"So, we make sure they don't catch up with us," Spike said
firmly. "We've gotta split up."
He opened his door and stepped out, still carrying Maria, who
hadn't spoken since they left the house. She was awake,
observing everything, but not contributing any opinions.
Gunn got out as well, coming around the hood to join Spike.
"You're right. Ralph can take her," Gunn said, pointing to
Maria, "and you and me can head for my old 'hood. We can
blend in there -- at least, I can..."
Ralph jumped out of the truck bed. "No, Spike should take
Maria, 'cause he can protect her. I'll go with you."
Gunn and Spike looked at Ralph in surprise. The timid vampire
was being unusually bold.
"OK, with me, if Spike agrees," Gunn said.
Spike nodded.
"We'll try to find a hidey hole," Spike said. "These two will be
tied down once the sun comes up. We've got to get to
somewhere they can stay safely until tomorrow night."
"What then?" Gunn asked.
Spike shrugged. "Take it one thing at a time. You take one of
the jugs. Ralph's going to need it any time now."
"They started giving it to me this morning," Ralph said.
Spike nodded.
Gunn shook his head. "When this is all over, you're going to sit
down and explain why the hell I'm on the run from my own
people, protecting a vampire and leaving my truck in a spot
where it's going to be stripped before I get a block away."
Spike sighed. "You probably don't want to know.
Understanding doesn't make it make sense."
Gunn rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ralph. We've got some
ground to cover."
Spike was left to ponder how to carry Maria and the jug of
synthetic blood at the same time.
"You can put me down," Maria said, sensing his dilemma. "I
can walk."
"You could have mentioned that earlier," Spike said irritably.
"And you've never pretended to be weaker than you are?
Sometimes it makes things easier."
"Yeah," Spike said, remembering a wheelchair on Crawford
Street in Sunnydale.
"You can walk, but are you strong enough to keep up?" he
asked.
"I'll keep up," she replied. "But I think I need some clothes."
She was wearing a hospital gown provided by Knox and his
crew. "I'm feeling a draft up the back, and I think this is sort of
conspicuous."
"I'm afraid Saks is closed for the night, love. And we've got to
get away from here right away."
He looked around and decided the best way to go was up.
There was a fire escape that led up the side of the building. He
jumped and got hold of the bottom of the ladder hauling
himself up with one arm. Carrying the jug made it harder, but
not impossible. When he'd got to a position where he had his
feet on the ladder, he put a hand down for Maria. Instead of
taking his offered help, Maria leapt on her own, scrambling up
beside him easily.
"First bar we see, go in," she said. "I can get something to
wear."
"The old wait-in-the-ladies-room trick?" Spike asked.
Maria nodded.
"Dru used to do that one a lot. But, sweetheart, do I need to
remind you that you can't kill humans?"
"I can't get their blood on me," Maria said evenly. "Doesn't
mean I can't knock one out and take her clothes."
Spike gave her a disapproving glare.
"I won't hurt anyone. I promise," Maria said hastily. "I just
need some clothes. And if the girl wakes up and makes a
report, nobody will connect it to us, because they know I can't
hurt humans."
They reached the roof and headed across, jumping from one
building to the next. They were covering quite a bit of ground,
but Spike knew they had to get under cover soon. He scanned
the sky for helicopters, which he expected to show up at any
moment.
"There!" Maria said, pointing down to the street below. "An
after-hours club."
Spike was about to veto the idea, until he heard the faint sound
of a chopper approaching in the distance.
"All right," he said with resignation. "But try not to hurt
anyone."
"I will be gentle as a lamb," Maria said with a smile. They
found the fire escape and climbed down to street level.
For all his timidity, Gunn had to admit that Ralph had survival
skills. It was the vampire who came up with a plan to get them
across town without attracting attention. It was as simple as
hopping on a bus. After years of owning his own
transportation, Gunn had all but forgotten about the bus
system.
Ralph even had a bus card, a fact that made Gunn chuckle. The
thought of vampires getting around on public transportation
was amusing for some reason.
"I only ride the night buses, when they're mostly empty," Ralph
said. "I couldn't bear to get on a crowded bus."
Gunn had to dig in his pocket for change. They took seats near
the back, where they could talk without the driver overhearing.
Ralph sat down and put the jug on the seat beside him. Gunn
took the seat across the aisle.
There was a wino sprawled across the bench seat at the very
back. He was snoring loudly, clutching his paper-bag-sheathed
bottle to his chest. The dark city sped by outside the windows
as they lurched from stop to stop.
"That was a pretty gutsy thing you did," Gunn said, looking
over at Ralph.
"What?"
"Coming with me. I know you're scared of me."
"Yeah, well ..."
The bus stopped, and a couple got on and took seats near the
front.
"You're not scared of Spike, though," Gunn said. "That's
funny."
"Spike's always looked out for me."
"Little brother..."
"I suppose."
"Where we're going, they don't like vamps much. So, whatever
happens, don't show your game face, right?"
Ralph nodded. "OK, I can do that."
"Just about everybody's gonna be black. I just want to warn
you about that."
Ralph looked over and gave him an ironic smile. "Not
particularly afraid of black people. I mean, not any more than
anybody else."
"Oh, come on. A skinny, little white boy like you? Not afraid
of brothers? At least be honest about it. I've seen the way you
look at me."
Ralph shook his head. "It ain't 'cause you're black. It's 'cause
you're so -- tall."
"I suppose some of your best friends are black," Gunn said
sarcastically.
"I used to be afraid of ... black people," Ralph said hesitantly.
"Before... before I was afraid of everything."
"So, what changed that?"
"When I went in the army..."
"You were in the army?" Gunn said in surprise.
Ralph nodded. "Yeah. Got drafted. Right after high school. I
had some friends who took off for Canada. Some others got
deferments -- went to college and stuff like that. But my old
man was in World War II, and he used to talk about protecting
freedom and all that, so I thought I'd go do my duty."
Gunn chuckled. "I would never have thought... wait, you went
to Vietnam, didn't you?"
Ralph nodded, looking very uncomfortable. "When we got
over there, well, a lot of the guys in my company were black.
We were all in it together. When you're out in the jungle and
Charlie might jump out of a hole in the ground at you any
minute, you watch your buddy's back, and he watches yours,
and you don't worry about what color he is. Just that he's there
for you and you're there for him."
Gunn took a hard look at Ralph, who was shaking and seemed
on the verge of a panic attack.
"That's what happened to you, isn't it?" Gunn said quietly. "I
used to know this old guy in the 'hood. Didn't have anyplace to
stay. Slept on steam vents. He would just wander around
mumbling all the time. He always wore this rag of an army
jacket. If you came near him, he'd run. So everybody just left
him alone. I asked about him once, and they said he'd got his
head messed up in Vietnam..."
"Yeah... that's about it," Ralph said in a whisper.
"For what it's worth, you're better off than old Mumblin' John,"
Gunn said.
"Don't know about that..."
"Really. Old John, he couldn't even talk to you. Finally, I think
he got hit by a car crossing the street or something."
"He was lucky, then," Ralph said bitterly. "Me, I'm going to
live this way forever.
"You know what I've been thinking? I think I shouldn't drink
any of this stuff that stops the fever. I think I should just let it
eat me up and turn me to dust. Then it'll all be over. 'Cause
otherwise, I've just got centuries to look forward to jumping at
my own shadow."
Gunn frowned. "You must want to keep living, somehow.
Otherwise, you'd just stay outside when the sun comes up."
"You forget," Ralph said sadly. "I'm a coward. I can't tell you
how many times I've stood outside in the morning, but soon as
I see the light coming, I run back inside."
"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to pry..."
Maria was pantomiming checking her makeup in the ladies-
room mirror. Anyone who really looked would see that she had
no reflection, but most of the girls who came in here would be
pretty drunk, and if Maria acted as they expected her to, they
most likely wouldn't see anything out of place. Of course, the
hospital gown was going to raise some eyebrows, but if the girl
were drunk enough, even that wouldn't matter.
As they'd come into the bar, Spike had put his arm around her
and hustled her to the ladies room door. His startling blond hair
and good looks worked in their favor. Anybody sober enough
to look just looked at him, and they hardly noticed the not-
quite-dressed woman he was squiring.
The bar was crowded and smoky, and it was late enough that
any girl who came to the ladies room was pretty sure to be
drunk. The mirror was cracked and the sink was scummy, and
the floor was littered with used paper towels that had spilled
out of the over-filled trashcan. It was the sort of bar where girls
passed out in the ladies room. This was perfect...
The door swung open, and Spike stepped through, ushering in a
redhead of approximately the right size. Maria gave him a
questioning frown.
"Linda here is going to help us, sweetheart," Spike said in a
tone that warned Maria to play along.
"Yeah," the girl giggled. "I'm just a sucker for a romantic story.
That's just awful, your parents putting you in the nut hatch so
you couldn't get married." The girl's words were slightly
slurred, and she wasn't entirely steady on her feet.
"Yeah, I busted her out, and we're heading for Vegas, tonight,
to tie the knot," Spike said, giving the girl his most charming
smile. "But Maria's got to have some street clothes, and all the
shops are closed..."
"You'd better wait outside, darling," Maria said sweetly.
"Anybody comes in and sees you here, there'll be trouble."
"No, I'll wait right here," Spike said firmly, looking Maria
directly in the eyes. "Can't bear to be away from you, love. You
two go in booths next to each other and toss the togs over the
top. We'll do this quick..."
Maria pressed her lips together, annoyed that Spike clearly
didn't trust her not to harm the girl. But she went into a booth
and shut the door. The hospital gown went up and over a
moment later. Linda took a little longer shimmying out of her
mini-skirt, halter top and sandals.
"These shoes don't fit," Maria complained.
"Then give them back, love," Spike replied. "Don't think they'll
refuse to marry us because you're barefoot."
Wes was studying blueprints for the Wolfram & Hart Los
Angeles headquarters when an agitated Fred came in.
"We've got to get to Angel right away," she said. "The black
ops team is looking for Charles and Spike. Angel's the only one
who can call them off."
"I've been monitoring communications," Wes said, "and I agree
with your assessment. Trouble is, we can't just take the elevator
up to Angel's office. I thought we might try climbing up the
elevator shaft, but when I went to the access point in the
basement, I found they've put a Fyarl security detail down
there. They're not kidding around. I have a feeling that any
attempt to access Angel's floor is going to be met with deadly
force."
"There's got to be a way," Fred said, wringing her hands.
"I've been studying the building infrastructure," Wes said.
"And I think I've got an idea. We're going to need Lorne's
help."
"I'll go get him. By the way, get rid of your phone. They can
track it," Fred said. "We don't want anybody to know what
we're up to."
"Wait... Any luck with the research logs?" Wes asked.
"Yeah! You're not going to believe what they were doing. One
more reason we've got to get to Angel. And about Lorne's extra
blood sample -- you're absolutely not going to believe this..."
"Mr. Angel?"
Angel spun around in his executive chair. If he had to be shut
in with just one person, why did it have to be this moron the
company had saddled him with as a personal assistant? This
moron was not significantly different from the eight morons
who had preceded him in the job. Angel regularly fired them.
Personnel just as regularly sent replacements. Apparently, there
was a clause in the contract that specified he had to have a
personal assistant chosen by the firm.
He'd stopped learning their names after the second week. He
had a vague recollection that this one's name was Eric, or
Earnest, or Edward... whatever -- something that started with
an 'E'.
"What did I tell you?" Angel said slowly with a menacing
growl in his voice.
"Which?"
"What?"
"Which thing that you told me are you asking about, sir?"
"What did I tell you about my name?"
"Oh, that... It's not 'Mr.' ... Oh, I see..."
"Have you got the phones working?"
"I'm sorry, sir. I tried, but I think I made it worse."
"What's worse than not working?"
"Um... well, there was a fire extinguisher nearby, so the fire's
out."
"Do you have a cell phone?" Angel asked, clenching his fists to
keep them under control.
"Yes, sir," the PA said brightly.
"Then use it to call building maintenance," Angel said slowly
and clearly.
"Um... I can't."
"Why not?"
"I left it in the washroom downstairs before we came up here."
Angel closed his eyes and put his head down on his desk.
When his head came back up, there was a dangerous glint in
his eyes.
"You know, I can think of only one thing you'd be good for at
the moment," Angel said in a low voice.
"Yes, sir?"
"But I'm not particularly hungry right now, so
get.out.of.my.SIGHT!"