Buffy and the Gang

She started to turn around, but noticed two police cars parked in front.

Her curiosity getting the best of her, she decided it wouldn't hurt anything to see what was going on; she didn't have to go in.

When she got there, a uniformed officer was outside using the hood of his car as a desk, filling out a form of some kind.

Willow looked through the window and saw Anya talking to two men in suits.

"What's going on?" She asked the officer.

"Robbery." He answered.

"Oh my God! Was anyone hurt?"

"Naw. The owner's a little shook up, but other than that...."

Willow started to go in, but was stopped.

"Can't go in," He told her, "Crime scene - they're still investigating."

Willow stood outside, watching through the window.

"You need something?" The officer asked.

"Anya's a friend of mine, sort of. I used to shop here a lot."

After thinking for a second he said, "They're probably about finished up, I guess you can go on in."

Anya and the two detectives looked up as the bell rang when Willow opened the door.

"Willow! I've been robbed!" Anya shouted out. "They took all my money!"

Even though Willow and Anya had never been especially good friends, the situation was serious enough that they needed each other's comfort, and hugged.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked after they broke the embrace.

"I'm fine. A little nervous, but they took all my money!"

"Excuse me," said one of the detectives, with his pencil poised over his notebook. "Can you give me your name?"

"Uh - Willow. Willow Rosenberg."

"Are you two related?"

"No." Anya answered. "We're just, uh, friends, I guess."

"Yeah," Willow concurred. "We're ... friends."

"Were you anywhere around here about a half an hour ago?" He asked.

"No, I just got here. Why?"

"I just thought you might have been in the area, and might have seen anything suspicious."

"Suspicious, like how?"

"Like four men all wearing black, with stockings over their faces, speeding away, carrying guns...."

"Guns! They had guns?!"

"Yes!" Anya answered. "Big guns! Big, big guns! Big point-in-your-face-and-order-you-to-open-the-cash-register-and-give-me-all-your-money guns!"

"Oh Anya! Are you sure you're okay?" Willow asked again. "Wasn't Xander here?"

Before Anya could answer, the detective asked, "Who's this Xander?" And started writing again in his notebook.

"Alexander. His name is Alexander Harris. He was my boyfriend before he stood me up at the altar and ran away."

"Do you think he might have had anything to do with this?" The detective asked Willow.

"Who? Xander? NO! He could never do anything like this!" Then looking at Anya she finished, "Could he?"

"It wasn't Xander. It was four strangers."

Then Willow mouthed to Anya, "Demons?"

Anya shook her head.

The detective took out a business card and handed it to Anya. "If you think of anything else, call me."

Anya nodded, "Okay. Are you going after my money now? I really do want it back, you know."

"We'll do the best we can."

And the two detectives headed toward the door.

"How much did they get?" Willow asked.

"Two hundred forty-three dollars and nineteen cents in cash, and one hundred seventy-eight dollars and eighty-nine cents in checks."

"You know how much to the penny?"

"Of course I do. It's my money. Or it was."

"Have you called Buffy?" Willow asked Anya.

The second detective turned back around. "You said 'Buffy.' Are you talking about Buffy Summers?"

"I -- I -- well, yeah. But I was just asking ...."

"You know this Buffy Summers?" The first detective asked his partner.

"Oh yeah. She was a murder suspect a couple of years ago. She was cleared, but I wasn't entirely convinced she didn't have anything to do with it."

"No! That wasn't Buffy, it was Drusilla!" Willow exclaimed.

The second detective reached into his coat's inner pocket, brought out a notebook, opened it, and started writing.

"Drusilla? I don't remember that name coming up. Is that spelled with a 'c' or an 's' ?"

Willow and Anya looked at each other.

"A 'c'? " Anya guessed.

"I thought it was with an 's'." Willow said.

"No matter." The detective said. "Last name?"

Willow and Anya looked at each other again, then shrugged.

"Don't know." They said together.

Frowning, the second detective said to both of them, "Maybe we need to talk a little more down at the station. Maybe your memories will improve."

"I don't know anything! It was just a name I heard!" Willow exclaimed.

"Yeah. I heard the name, too, but that's all." Anya said.

The detective looked at both of them suspiciously, then said, "Well, if either of you remembers any other names, you have our number."

Both women smiled weakly and nodded.

After they left the store, Anya said, "Xander wasn't here."

Willow nodded again.

"Are you going to call Buffy?"

"What can she do? They weren't vampires or demons, just bad men with big guns. Did mention how big their guns were?"

Willow nodded. "You did. That must have been horrible! But I'm glad you're all right."

"But I'm NOT all right! They took my money!"

"But you weren't hurt."

"That's true."

"I still think you should call Buffy. Maybe she can ... do something."

"Can she help find my money?"

"Is that all you think about, your money?" Willow asked, getting tired of hearing the same thing over and over.

"What else is there?"

"Well, maybe that they might rob somebody else, and just might shoot someone next time?"

Anya thought for a moment. "Yes, you're probably right. I have been quite unfeeling about someone else's potential problems. I shouldn't dwell on the fact that I was the victim here, and they took all of my ... THINGS!"

"Look, I'm really, really sorry you were robbed. And I'm glad you weren't hurt, but they need to be caught before someone does get hurt. Your money is only secondary here!"

"Then we should help the police catch them."

"How are we going to do that?"

"With magic."

"No! You know I don't do magic, not anymore."

"I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about me."

"But you aren't a witch."

"No, but I have a store full of Spell Books. I'm sure there's a spell here to find them, somewhere."

"You know, magic isn't something to play around with...."

"Then you can supervise. I'll do the spell and you can watch that I do it right."

Willow started to refuse, but knowing that Anya would just get herself into trouble, she decided it wouldn't hurt if she just watched, and guided.

"You'll need something from them."

"Like what?"

"Like hair or fingernails, something like that."

"They wore stockings over their heads, and had gloves on."

"Did any of them touch anything without their gloves on? Or sneeze on anything?"

"No."

"Then you won't be able to find them with magic."

"So what good is it if it won't work when you want it to?"

"I'm sorry. That's just the way it is. NOW, are you going to call Buffy, or do you want me to?"

Pouting, Anya agreed to let Willow make the call.

"What do you want me to do?" Buffy asked, "Aren't the police investigating?"

"Well, yeah, but I just thought you might ... have ideas, or connections! Maybe you could get Spike to ask around."

"Spike and I aren't speaking at the moment, much to my joy. Why don't you just let the police handle it?"

"Let me have that!" Anya said angrily, taking the phone from Willow.

"You're the Slayer and Savior of the World and all that! Are you saying that you can't even find four big men wearing stockings over their faces?"

"I'm sure they have probably taken the stockings off by now. And are probably holed up somewhere because they don't want to be found." Buffy said to her. "This is a job for the police, not the Slayer."

"A lot of help YOU are!" Anya said, giving the phone back to Willow.

"Can't use magic; Slayer won't help. Nobody cares about my money. . . . " She continued to mutter.

"Don't be mad at Anya, she's really upset. She's never been robbed at gunpoint before ... I know, I'M scared, and it didn't even happen to me ... Yeah ... Okay. I'll see you later."

"She's not going to help, is she?" Anya asked.

"She really doesn't know what she can do, but she said she'll ask around, maybe even Spike. If you think you'll be okay, I'm going to be going. Darktime is still Vamptime, you know."

"Sure! Go! I'll be fine! There's nothing left take. Why would someone want to come in and rob me now?"

"No reason, I guess. I'll ... see you later."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." Anya muttered at Willow's back as she left.

The next morning not long after Dawn left for school, Buffy heard an angry knock at the back door as she was looking over the electric bill, and the water bill, and the phone bill.

Before she could say "Come in" Xander barged in, throwing down the day's edition of the "Sunnydale Press" and pointing at the lead story.

"Did you know about this?" He demanded.

Buffy looked at the headlines and read out loud: "Crime Spree Hits City"

Under that was: "Four armed robbers hit half dozen stores"

"Here!" Xander shouted, pointing at the second paragraph. "Read it!"

"Among the stores hit in the daring daylight robberies were The Day and Nite Grocery, Aaron's Hardware and Nursery, Maria's Flower Shop, The Magic Box...."

Looking up from the paper, Buffy said, "I knew they robbed the magic shop but I didn't know about these other places."

"You knew Anya was robbed and you didn't bothered to call me?!"

"I didn't know about it until Willow called me to see if there was something I could do. I told her I'd ask around, but...."

"Willow knew!! And SHE didn't call me either?" Xander was almost hysterical.

"Xander! Calm down! You'll have a stroke!"

"Stroke be damned! Why couldn't SOMEONE have called me? What is this? Let's keep old the Runaway-Groom out of the loop? He doesn't matter anymore!"

"Xander, I'm really sorry no one thought to tell you, but...."

"Is she all right? Did anyone even think I might still care about what happens to Anya?"

"She's fine. She's more shook up about losing the money than that they had guns...."

"They had guns." Xander said, forced calm in his voice. "That's really great! Anya was robbed by four men with guns; guns that very easily could have gone off and killed her. And no one thought I should know."

Buffy knew if she said the wrong thing, Xander would explode again.

"Anya is fine." She repeated. "She did everything they told her. They took the money and left."

Xander didn't answer, but it was obvious he was having trouble keeping calm.

Buffy went on. "She's fine! But if you're so concerned, why don't you go see for yourself?"

Without a word, Xander stormed out of the house, leaving the back door open.

Buffy slowly closed it and went back to the article. The third paragraph mentioned that two people were shot during the hardware store robbery, but fortunately, not seriously.

That was all it took - she knew she had to do something! As much as she hated to, her first stop was at Spike's. Even though the robberies were done during the day, he most likely would have heard something.

She started to call Anya to tell her Xander was on his way, but decided not to -- let them work out their problems without her.

Spike was relaxing, watching TV when Buffy kicked open the door of his crypt.

"Why can't you knock like normal people?" He asked, irritated.

"Because I'm not like normal people, in case you hadn't noticed."

Knowing that any argument he gave would probably result in a punch to the face, Spike decided to drop it.

"So why the visit?" He asked.

"Did you hear about the robberies yesterday? There were six of them, including the Magic Box."

"Yeah, I heard. It was on the news. There were two more this morning, some fruit stand, and a pizza place or something. Is Anya okay? The didn't hurt her, or anything, did they?"

"No, she's fine. Just mad about losing her money."

"Then at the risk of repeating myself - why the bloody visit?"

"I want to know where these guys are staying."

"What makes you think I know anything?"

"Because I know you. Anything odd going on in Sunnydale always gets back to you. So where are they?"

"I'm afraid you've overestimated my information gathering. Not many demons want me around, much less talk to me!"

"Then tonight you and I are going hunting, for humans."

"Well, ALL RIGHT! My kind of hunt. Just like the good old days!"

"I'm sure it is, except that if we find them, there's not a whole lot you can do, besides making some wimpy threatening noises."

"Well, seeing that they're mortal, that might be all that's necessa -- What do you mean? Wimpy! I can growl with the best of them; better! And don't forget the face!"

"Sure, whatever. I'll be back about 6. Be ready."

"Aren't you forgetting something? What about the police?"

Buffy looked at Spike with aggravated impatience.

"You mean the Sunnydale Can't-Even-Catch-a-Cold Department? Come on, Spike, you know as well as I do what a bunch of incompetent fools they are."

"You do have a point. So I'll see you at six."

At 5 pm, Buffy turned on the evening news. Three more robberies had taken place since this morning, and two more people were taken to the hospital with gunshot wounds.

"This ends! Tonight!" Buffy said to no one.

"What ends?" Dawn said, walking up behind her.

"These robberies. That's four people who have been hurt by these guys. Human or not, their fun is over."

"How're you gonna find 'em?"

"Spike and I are going out tonight. And if we have to hunt down and beat up every vampire and demon in town, we ARE going to find them!"

"Okaaaay." Dawn said, with sarcastic doubt in her voice.

"Spike? Are you ready?" Buffy asked as she slammed open the door to Spike's crypt.

"So what's the hurry? It's not like. . . ."

"People are getting shot, that's what's the hurry! I'm going to end this, tonight, before anyone gets killed!"

Buffy stormed out of the crypt with Spike following behind her, mumbling something about having a little bloody patience.

"So where do we look first?" Spike asked, trying to keep up with Buffy.

"We'll try Willie's first. If we can't beat any information out of him, we'll start on his customers."

"What's all this 'we' stuff?" Spike started to say.

"If you can't keep up your part, then don't get in my way. Just keep your demon pals from leaving until I have a chance to question them."

"Oh, sure! Like they're really going to listen to me! I'm lucky if I can't get one of them to even talk to me, much less hang around waiting for the Slayer to beat the hell out of them."

"Spike! Shut Up!" Buffy demanded, losing what little patience she had.

"Okay, Willie. There are four guys with guns robbing and shooting people. Where are they?"

Willie looked around at the half dozen demons and vampires in the room, a weak, desperate grin on his face. "Ha ha. It's the Slayer. I sure don't know why she's here. I know I didn't invite her in."

"Shut up, Willie! And talk!" Buffy contradicted herself as she grabbed him by the shirt with one hand, pulling him halfway over the bar, her other fist cocked and ready.

"Look, I don't know anything. Honest! Those guys would never come in a place like this!"

"But you know something, or you've heard something. I want to know what it is." And Buffy's fist pulled back just a little bit more, for just that little bit more traveling distance, for just that little bit more time to reach just a little bit more speed and power.

"Look, all I know is that a couple of demons were in earlier complaining about these guys running them out of their place."

"And?"

"And that's all. They came in, had a couple of drinks, and left again. They said they were looking for new accommodations."

"They didn't say where they had been staying?"

"No. And I didn't ask. There are certain things I'd rather not know. You know how it is, what I don't know, I can't tell?"

Buffy took a deep, angry breath, but released Willie without hitting him.

"Hey! Slayer!"

Buffy and Spike looked over at one of the tables near the back door. Sitting there was a middle aged man in an old business suit clutching a brief case. Probably once was a banker or stock broker; now just another vampire hoping to feed without attracting too much Slayer attention.

Buffy walked over to him.

"You've got something to say?" She asked.

"I think I may know where those guys you're looking for are."

"Where?"

The vampire hesitated, looking at Buffy, then at Spike, and back to Buffy again.

"My memory sometimes isn't that good, but I'm sure a little reward might help me remember."

"How about if I don't kill you? Is that reward enough?"

"I'd listen to the Slayer, if I were you." Spike suggested. "She's in one of those PMS moods tonight."

The vampire decided to take Spike's advice. "Those two demons, the one Willie was talking about? I kind of know them. Once or twice I've been at their place while we shared . . . uh, supper."

"Okay. Where it is?"

"Almost past the railroad yard. There's an old run down looking house with burglar bars over the windows. I'm pretty sure that's where they are."

Buffy waited a few moments, trying to decide whether to believe him or not. She finally decided she did and turned toward the front door.

"Give him a few bucks." She told Spike.

"I hope you know what you're talking about." Spike said as he handed over two $10 bills. "She's not one to be trifled with, especially not tonight."

"What a dump!" Buffy loudly whispered to Spike as they crept up to the old house.

"Well demons aren't really too particular where they live." Spike answered, also whispering.

They cautiously looked through a window into the living room. The inside was even worse than the outside. There were holes in the walls and ceiling. What few pieces of furniture were broken and haphazardly mended. Trash was so thick on the floor it had to be kicked aside just to walk. And even through the duct taped broken window glass the odor of rotting garbage was strong.

"My GOD! Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse!" Buffy exclaimed, to herself.

The four men were there. One was sitting on a sofa watching TV, his pistol on an end table. Two of them were playing cards on an old rickety card table, their guns on the table.

The fourth had a map, no doubt of Sunnydale, spread out on a beat up dinette table.

"Must be the boss." Buffy whispered to Spike.

"What now?" He asked.

"I'm thinking." Buffy replied.

"I have a suggestion. Why not call the cops, after all, it's their JOB."

"Because they'll go in with guns blazing, and people will die."

After a few seconds, Spike offered another suggestion. "What if I round up a few vampires and let them know where a free meal is. Not only would your problem be solved, but maybe my credibility in the demon world would be somewhat repaired."

"Right. And afterward, I'd have to kill your new friends. What would THAT do to your credibility?"

"You just never want to do things the easy way, do you?"

"What's the fun in that? Now, shut up and let me think."

"We could burn them out. No one would care if this place burned to the ground, except maybe demons looking for a home."

Buffy ignored him.

"We need some kind of distraction." She said.

"How about if I kick in the front door? And while they're looking at me, you go in through the back."

"I've got a better idea, YOU go through the back door, the noise should distract them, and when their backs are turned I'll come through the front. Make enough noise so they'll be suspicious, but not so much they'll start shooting."

"I'll do my best." Spike said sarcastically as he made his way through the garbage in the yard to the back.

Buffy waited a half minute or so at the window, then when she saw one of them start toward the back of the house, she ran around to the front and with a jumping kick, knocked the door off its hinges as it crashed into the front room.

With no hesitation, Buffy scooped up the broken dining room chair that the TV was sitting on. As the TV fell to the floor, the chair sailed across the room and knocked down the thug who was studying the map, and had pulled his pistol out of the waistband of his jeans. As he bounced against the wall behind him, he fired two shots that went wild - one into the wall near the front door, and the other into the ceiling.

The two who were playing cards also grabbed their guns and turned toward Buffy, guns pointed at her, but before either could fire, Spike yelled at them, and when they turned to him, they saw him in full vampire face. The shock gave Buffy enough time to kick the gun away from the one on the sofa and to kick him full in the face, rendering him unconscious.

Spike lunged at the two with all the demonosity he could muster -- fangs bared, blood-red eyes, and a blood-curdling screech.

As they tried running backward away from him, one tripped over the card table and hit his head solidly on the floor.

The other was grabbed by Buffy and was thrown headfirst into the wall next to the broken front door.

Just as suddenly as it started, it was over.

"Well," Spike said proudly as his vampire face changed back to normal, "Looks like we did it."

"Yeah, looks like it. I guess all we need to do now is tie them up, call the cops, and disappear."

"What? We're not going to wait for the reward? I know there MUST be a reward for these guys."

"That's not the way I work. You know - Slayer, secret identity? Besides, do you really want to go downtown and have them ask a lot of questions you'd rather not answer?"

"Okay, okay. I see your point."

Buffy was looking through the garbage on the floor when her peripheral vision saw movement. The head thug had recovered and was picking up his gun. He pointed it at Buffy and pulled the trigger twice.

At the same time, Spike threw himself in front of Buffy and both 9 mm bullets hit him in the chest.

The force of the shots caused Spike to be thrown into Buffy. She tripped backward over the TV, and they both landed on the floor.

The gunman took a couple steps toward them and started to fire again. But when they landed, Spike's hand felt the cold steel of a pistol.

And without thinking, he grabbed it and fired at the thug. In the same split second he pulled the trigger, the chip activated and Spike screamed out in pain, grabbing his head.

The leader of the robbers fell to the floor, shot through the neck. He bled to death in a matter of minutes.

Buffy laid Spike on his back and cradling his head in her lap, opened his shirt to look at his wounds. There wasn't much blood - vampires don't bleed much. She saw that one bullet went just under his left collarbone. The second was into his midsection. Both bullets had passed completely through him, but had been diverted enough to miss Buffy.

As the pain in his head lessened, Spike tried to look up to see if Buffy was all right.

"I'm fine." she told him. "How about you?"

"This bloody pain in my head is about gone, but now I can feel the pain in my shoulder and stomach."

Before Buffy could answer, she could hear sirens, and they were getting louder, and closer.

"Damn! Somebody must have heard the shots and called the cops. We've got to get out of here. Can you walk?"

"Don't have much of a bloody choice, do I?" Spike said as Buffy helped him to his feet.

She tried putting one of his arms around her shoulders, but he was stumbling so bad, she ended up throwing him over one shoulder and took off running -- every step causing him pain.

Halfway back to his crypt, Buffy put Spike down to let him rest, then tried again to help him walk. He had recovered enough he didn't have to be carried, he said.

Buffy laid Spike on the lid of the large stone coffin he used for a bed. There wasn't much more she could do for him. His wounds would heal in a few weeks, sooner if he fed.

For a brief fraction of a second Buffy was almost tempted to let him feed on her, as Angel had done.

But he wasn't Angel, and she didn't love him. But even if she volunteered, would the chip let him feed?

"How's you head?" She asked instead.

"The pain there is about gone. Still hurts like hell everywhere else."

Spike couldn't help but notice that Buffy was looking at him strangely, very strangely. The look was almost like ... tenderness.

"You saved my life." She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, well, what did you expect?" He replied, feeling a little embarrassed.

"I don't know. Not that."

"What can I say? I love you; couldn't very well let you die, now could I?"

Buffy smiled a small, half smile at him. "I suppose not."

She then ran her fingers through his hair over the place that the chip caused so much pain.

"I wonder . . . ." She said.

"Wonder what?"

"What would happen if the chip stopped working."

Then looking him squarely in the eyes, she asked, "Would you kill my friends? Or me?"

"Not bloody well likely!" He answered, after hesitating just a bit too long. "I've changed!"

Smiling again, but with no humor, she said, "You say that now. But still, if you could ... I wonder."