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Just Across the Hall, part 3 by indie & tango EMAIL: indiefic@hotmail.com & tangofic@hotmail.com ****** Angel was lying in bed with Buffy, his face buried in her hair when Kate arrived. She looked away, embarrassed at having interrupted such an intimate moment. Angelus was always so closed off, so stoic that seeing him falling apart over this wounded woman pulled at her heart. “Two plain clothes officers picked him up. He’s down at the station,” she said softly. “Bastard wasn’t even trying to hide. He went into work like it was a normal day.” Angel nodded, his possessive grip on Buffy’s waist tightening. Buffy had easily identified her attacker as the same guy Angel had chased off months earlier. Given that Angel had taken note of the guy’s information before booting him to the curb, it was a trivial matter to find him. “I’ll be down within the hour,” he said. “I don’t think that will be such a great idea,” Kate said. “I’ll be down,” Angel repeated darkly. Kate hovered in the doorway for another couple of seconds and watched as her partner nuzzled the poor beaten girl to wake her. He whispered in her ear and lightly traced his fingers over her jaw. Blushing, Kate stepped out into the hallway quickly and closed the door behind her. *** Angel stormed in the room all the police officers affectionately called “the hole.” He didn’t bother checking in with anyone to see if progress was being made. He flew past Kate and pulled the John from his chair, without breaking his stride, and slammed a fist into his jaw. Angelus knew his fellow officers would be pulling him off the perp any second, so he pummeled into him as fast as he could, using every bit of energy he possessed to turn the little weasel into a grease spot. “Angelus!” Kate called out but made no move to stop her partner. She had seen the look in his eyes when he came in and way he wrapped himself around that little beaten blonde, holding on to her body for dear life. If anyone was going to stop him, it wasn’t going to be her. The door opened and three officers came running in. Angel didn’t even hear them, so focused on his task. He snarled when they pulled him back and he lunged forward even as the John crumpled to the floor, nearly unconscious and bleeding. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Angel raged, pulling against his fellow officers. *** Buffy woke to find Angel once again in bed with her. He was watching her carefully. She reached up and gently ran her fingertips across his cheekbone. Catching her hand in his, he gently brought her fingertips to his lips for a gentle kiss. Buffy sighed, smiling despite the pain it caused her. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked. He shook his head. “The only thing I have to do is take care of you,” he replied. Two days later, when Buffy was finally released from the hospital, she found out how perfectly true Angel’s words had been. He didn’t have anything else to do. The reason he didn’t have anything else to do was because he was suspended from the police department pending a full investigation into his merciless pummeling of her attacker. Part of Buffy wanted to rail at him for being so stupid. The other half, however, wanted to use a can of whipped cream, chocolate syrup and a set of rubber sheets to show him exactly how adorable she found her over-protective lover. Buffy wasn’t a fan of Angel’s heavy-handed tendencies, but she wasn’t shocked when he took her home to his apartment, rather than her own. She also wasn’t shocked to find his living room piled with all of her possessions. She looked at her television, sitting on top of his coffee table. Slowly, she turned to look at him. Given that he was carrying her, their faces were scant inches apart. “I guess I’m moving in,” she said dryly. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said flatly before continuing into the bedroom. He tucked her carefully into bed and closed the blinds and curtains, darkening the room so she could rest. With a final, gentle kiss to her forehead, he left her alone so he could finish unpacking her things. *** Buffy knew she had been asleep for hours when she heard raised voices. She blinked quickly, trying to make her mind focus on the sound. Two men were obviously arguing in the living room, one of them was most certainly Angel. As carefully as she could, she got out of bed and walked to the door, opening it a crack. Angel and Spike were glaring at each other and Buffy knew that they were going to come to blows any second. “Angel,” she said softly. He abruptly stopped, turning to face her. He abandoned his argument, quickly making his way across the room to her. “Do you need something, baby?” he asked. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” she assured him. Curiously, she peeked her head around Angel. “Spike?” Cautiously, Spike approached the couple, careful to stay out of Angel’s reach. “My god, pet,” he gasped. Buffy frowned, inching closer to Angel, who tucked her protectively under his arm, glaring at Spike. She knew she looked awful. The bruises were actually getting worse, not better, turning disgusting shades of yellow, green and purple. Her lips were scabbed from where they had split against her teeth. All in all, it wasn’t a pretty picture. Spike seemed to realize the affect his careless words made and he smiled repentantly. “I’m sorry, pet, I don’t mean ... It’s just I knew you were hurt, but I hadn’t realized how badly. Good Christ, please tell me they caught the bastard.” “The situation has been taken care of,” Angel informed him shortly. Spike’s gaze dropped to Angel’s hands, to his scabbed-over knuckles and he nodded in perfect agreement. “Good to know,” he said seriously. “Is there something you needed, Spike?” Buffy asked. He shook himself out of his mental wanderings. “Yeah, there is,” he said tautly. “Dammit. I didn’t want to be the one to do this, but I didn’t want to risk you finding out second hand.” “What?” “The show is dead, Buffy. The network bigwigs found out ... Well, they found out how you knew your attacker and they axed the show. They said they didn’t want to deal with the press when word got out about ... uh, about the fact ... “ “That I used to be a whore,” Buffy finished coldly. “Yeah.” For the first time Buffy could remember, Spike couldn’t wait to get away from her. After dropping his bomb, he made a beeline for the door, anxious to not see the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes and roll down her bruised and beaten face. He, of course, made his apologies and promised to keep in touch, but the one thing he hadn’t said hung in the air – she would never be an actress now. “I can’t believe this!” Buffy shouted, limping angrily around the living room in a sort of uneven, crawling pace. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and was caught between the urge to scream or cry. Angel hovered, standing near the doorway, watching her manic trek around the room. “We’ll think of something,” Angel said quietly. “Yeah, we’ll think of the good ol’ days when Buffy was fit to be an actress,” she fumed turning toward him. “Don’t you see? It’s over! I hooked so I could survive while I paid for my own acting classes and went to auditions and now I can’t act because of what I did while I was trying to get my foot in the door!” “Buffy …” Angel said, slowly approaching her. “There are other networks. I’ll call Cordy and-“ “You’ll call your sister and tell her to that your whore needs another shot?” Buffy shouted. Her voice cracked and tears started springing from her eyes even though she willed them not to. “You should get out while you’re ahead, Angel. I’ve lost my job and it’s my fault you’re going to lose yours.” Buffy was sobbing so hard she didn’t even know Angel crossed the room until he pulled her into his arms. She pressed her face into his shirt and let the shudders wrack violently through her body. Just one day and all of her dreams were gone. The only thing she had left was Angel. “I’ll move back out,” Buffy sniffled finally, stepping out of his embrace. “When the Chief decides whether or not to give you your job back, it’ll help if you aren’t associated with a hooker.” “No,” Angel said, pulling her back against him. She protested for a moment but then settled back into his arms, letting him hold her a bit too tightly. “I’m not letting you go,” he said against her hair. “You’re more important than a fucking job, Buffy.” She turned up her tear-streaked face to look at him. “It’s not a job, it’s your life.” “No,” he said solemnly. “You’re my life.” Another tear slid down her cheek, but this time it was from happiness. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you,” he said vehemently before placing a gentle kiss against her lips. She calmed, allowing him to carry her back to bed, though she agreed to stay only with the understanding that he would stay too. He was only too happy to oblige, spooning his large frame around hers, holding her while she slept. ****** Buffy walked into the apartment, holding the mail in her hand. She reached for the letter opener, but before she could succeed in opening the bill, Angel walked up behind her and plucked it out of her hand. “Hey!” she shouted, hopping up, trying to grab the letter out of his grasp. “Shoo,” Angel admonished, smacking her on the butt. “Angel,” she said seriously. He looked at her. This was an old argument. For the last month and a half, she had been living with him. Or more appropriately, off him. She had yet to find another job. Initially, she felt bad enough about that, but last week, Angel’s suspension was overturned and he was fired outright. She had gone from feeling bad to feeling like Buffy Summers, Queen of All Deadbeat Leechy Girlfriends. Angel was oh so helpful. He offered for her to work off her debt by going back to her former profession. Of course, the only client she was allowed to have was him. Ha! She informed him very summarily that if that were the case, he would actually owe her quite a bit of money. She had tons more sex as his girlfriend than she’d ever had as a prostitute. A knock on the door sounded and Buffy gave him one more mock pleading look before going to answer it. “Hi Lily,” she said quietly, looking anxiously over her shoulder to see her overprotective boyfriend already standing behind her. She scooted so that the door was just open enough to frame her body. It was one thing for Angel to know that she was previously a prostitute, but it was entirely another to have her ex-acquaintances just dropping by. “Buffy, can I talk to you for a second?” Lily asked. “Look, I know you started a new life and all but this is really important.” “Alright,” Buffy said, stepping back and letting the girl in. She liked Lily. She was quiet and sweet. She turned a bit lower of a class trick than Buffy used to, but she was a good girl for a hooker – and not likely to offer Angel a blowjob while she was there, which was even better. “Since you left, Faith’s been helping to train me to be like you were,” Lily said quietly, looking over at Angel nervously every few seconds. “We were meeting almost every day, but I haven’t seen her in two days now and I don’t know what to do.” “Are you sure she didn’t just run away with some rich idiot?” Buffy looked over at Angel worriedly, then back to Lily who had started wringing her hands nervously. “I mean, she’s done that before. She was in Texas for two weeks once with a guy who wanted to set up a brothel on his ranch, until she realized that they were a bunch of sweaty handed cowboys who thought they were going to pay twenty-five bucks a fuck.” “I don’t think that’s it,” Lily replied. “I was sick, so she took one of my regular clients Wednesday night. That was the last time anybody saw her. She missed a date with Lindsey. She never misses with him. Never.” “Uh, oh,” Buffy said. Indeed, this was a bad sign if Faith stood up Lindsey. "I'm pretty sure I still have a key to her place," Buffy said. "How about if we go over there and look around?" Lily nodded. Buffy looked to Angel. "I'll get my coat," he said. *** Faith's apartment was a mess, but Buffy didn't necessarily think that meant it had been ransacked. Unless, of course, the perpetrators decided to order two pizzas and some Chinese takeout. Faith was a slob. "See anything?" Angel asked, carefully leafing through some mail on the table with the tip of a pen. Buffy shook her head. "I'll keep looking." She walked into Faith's tiny bedroom. Her heart fell. She stuck her head back in the other room. "Her purse is still here. All her money, her credit cards. Everything." *** Buffy and Lily were both anxiously waiting in the living room of Angel's apartment when he returned, hours later. Their coffees, long forgotten, were cold in their hands. Buffy jumped to her feet. "Well?" Angel's expression was hard. "Kate can't give me any specifics," he said. "Not anymore." "Angel," Buffy pled, knowing he was hedging. "Okay," Angel said, "it doesn't look good. This looks like the M.O. of the killer that's been preying on prostitutes for months." "No," Lily cried. She buried her hands in her hair and sobbed openly. Buffy sat back down next to her and wrapped a comforting arm around the girl. She tried to concentrate on the fact that Faith was a tough girl. She had been in messes before that other girls would not have escaped. She was more street smart than anyone Buffy knew, except for maybe Angel. She just wished she could get the chill spreading through her body to go away. Angel took a deep breath and met Buffy’s eyes. “The killer,” Angel said quietly, “generally keeps them for four days before he kills them. If she hasn’t been gone more than a day or two, we still have a chance to find her.” “Where?” Buffy asked desperately. Her lower lip trembled and every attempt to be brave disappeared. “How can we find her? You’ve been chasing this freak for months!” “It’s a long shot, but it isn’t impossible. Usually we don’t know about the missing pro … girls until it’s too late. With Faith we have a description and something to work with.“ He cleared his throat nervously. “I’m going to check around some of her old places and see what I can find.” “Be careful,” Buffy said, carefully moving away from Lily to throw herself into Angel’s arms. “I can’t lose you too.” ***** "Okay," Buffy said softly, willing herself not to cry. She clutched the phone so tightly her hand ached. Angel was still out, tracking down informants, talking to cops. He had yet to find out anything. Officially, Kate still couldn't say anything, but she had been Angel's partner for years. Angel knew that Kate wasn't optimistic and he had told Buffy as much. Hanging up the phone, Buffy walked to the kitchen counter and proceeded to write a letter. Lily was asleep on the couch, tossing fitfully. Angel had made the young woman swear she wouldn't leave the apartment until he returned to escort her home. He hadn't elaborated on why, but Buffy knew the truth. She'd been privy to enough of his conversations with Kate to know that Faith wasn't the killer's normal victim. The killer wasn't random. He was meticulous, a stalker. He planned and waited for his prey. And his prey of choice wasn't a hotheaded, hard-bodied brunette from a rough South Boston neighborhood who wouldn't hesitate to hand you your lunch. No. His victim of choice was a young, slightly built, down on her luck, fresh to the big city blonde. His victim of choice was Lily. The guy had probably watched Lily for weeks, maybe even months. He'd learned her schedules and decided to pick her up after a session with one of her regulars. It was Faith's bad luck for doing Lily a favor. Quietly, Buffy crept to the couch where Lily was sleeping. Carefully, she took the girl's keys out of her purse. Lily shifted in her sleep, but did not wake. Buffy took a deep breath and looked at the counter, making sure that the letter to Angel was still plainly visible. He would be so angry when he realized what she did, but Buffy didn't have a choice. Faith was her best friend and right now, she was her only hope. As soundlessly as possible, Buffy slipped out of her apartment. Hopefully she could make it to Lily's before Angel caught wind of what she was doing. Otherwise, Buffy would never be able to trick the killer into thinking she was Lily. **** It wasn’t hard to track down Lindsey. He usually went to the bar where they met for their “dates” when he wanted to unwind after work. Being a successful lawyer, he always said, tended to give him a reason for a lot of unwinding. Which was why he kept her so busy. She found him holding down a bar stool, chatting with an attractive brunette and sipping on imported beer. A twinge filled her belly when she thought about how much things had changed in her life – and how much she didn’t want to go back to it. She tapped him on the shoulder and he glanced over his shoulder. When he recognized her, a smile lit up his face and he swiveled around to face her, putting his back to the girl he had been talking to. “Well, hello darlin’,” he said, grinning. “Long time. Thought you ran off with some cop.” “Do you have a minute?” she asked quietly, “I need to talk to you.” “Nice meeting you,” he said to the girl beside him. Her face twisted into a scowl, which flung itself at Buffy. Lindsey either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Either was typical for him. He flung his arm over her shoulders and swaggered with her to a booth. “Guess you decided to change your mind and be my mistress,” he said huskily. “I’ll keep you busy, darlin’. And drenched in silk.” “I’m not working anymore, Linds,” Buffy said, casting him a look of regret. “I need your help.” Lindsey looked her up and down. He took another sip of his drink. "So I guess the rumors 'bout your settlin' down are true." "Yeah," she said firmly. Nodding, Lindsey asked, "He really a cop?" "Used to be," Buffy said. Lindsey chuckled. "I saw Marco a few weeks back," he said. "Looked pretty down on his luck. Said he'd been busted after one of his referrals got picked up. Guess the guy was messed up pretty good by some over-eager cop. Wouldn't be your new lover's handiwork, would it?" "The asshole beat me unconscious," Buffy said tightly. "I was in the hospital for a week." Lindsey's expression sobered instantly. "I didn't know that," he said seriously. "Guess maybe he's not such a bad guy after all, even for a cop." Buffy looked around the bar, fruitlessly searching for anyone who might be paying them more attention than usual. "I'm not here to talk about me, Lindsey," she said. "This is about Faith." Lindsey's expression soured. "She stood me up last night." "She's missing, Linds," Buffy said vehemently. "She didn't skip town with one of her other customers. She was taken. The cops think that sicko that's been cutting up girls and leaving them in the trash has her." "Fuck," Lindsey hissed, his eyes darting around the bar. He scooted closer to her in the booth, lowering his voice. "Your new boytoy working on this?" "As much as he can," Buffy said. "He’s not a detective anymore. The cops can't tell him much, but he has a lot of friends on the force. They take care of their own. But time is running out and they don't have any leads." "How do I play into this?" Buffy took a deep breath. "The guy was after Lily," she said. "Faith was covering for her. Faith isn't his regular victim. He likes girls who look like Lily. Girls who look like me." "You want to use yourself as bait," Lindsey said with a tight smile. Buffy nodded. "I take it your lover doesn't know about this." "He would never … " Buffy steeled her resolve. "He would never let me do something like this. It's just … I can't let Faith die. Not if there's anything I can do to stop it." "Just let me know what you need me to do." ***** |