"I know," Oz shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Can you take me
to him now?"

"Not yet. He'll be back around," she checked her watch, "...five
minutes ago. I guess we can go. He'll be angry with me if I'm not."
Oz nodded. Darla took a deep breath. "All right. Let's go."
***

Oz stood before Liam, or, formally, Angelus. Liam looked him over
and nodded, satisfied with what he saw and heard. "You would be
willing to give up all that to join my cause?"

Oz nodded, "Yes, sir. I would."

"And you say you have access to areas the rest of my charges
don't? Like what, Oz?" Liam stood back and studied the boy's
pointed face.

"For instance, Joyce Summers's gallery," Oz supplied.

"We've already gained access there," Liam narrowed his eyes.

"Au contraire, monsieur," Oz said. "I can gain access without
setting off the alarm system--and without turning it off. I can
also get into the Bronze without triggering any security systems."

Liam was intrigued by that. "I'll give you a test drive. Get me a
painting from Joyce's gallery, bring it back here. The most valuable
one. If you manage to get here without triggering any alarms, or
notifying the police, you can stay. If you do, I'll kill you."

Oz nodded. "I have an accomplice who was detained from this
meeting. He's trustworthy, and will assist me in the removing of
this painting."

"Very well," Liam told him dismissively.

Oz nodded and left the lair.

Liam turned to Darla, who had been lurking in the shadows. "If he
betrays me, it's your neck. If you told him our plan..."

Darla's eyes took on a haunted quality. "No, sir, I haven't said a
word about it."
***

Xander had been let it in by Buffy. She'd given him the codes for
the alarm system and he had turned it off, waiting, hunched by the
door, for Oz to arrive. Spike's car had pulled up and he'd ducked
into the alley nearby, waiting for Oz to show up as well. Oz's van
pulled up and the boy jumped out, opening the door and trusting
that Xander had turned off the alarm system and unlocked the door.

"I don't trust Darla," Oz announced as he followed Xander back to
storage room.

"Why not?" Xander replied. "She seems trustworthy enough, even
if she's Spike's cousin."

"I just...don't trust her," Oz squinted in the dark room, running his
hand along the wall to see if he could find the door knob. "It's...
there's something...the matter with her. Like she's playing double
agent."

"She is," Xander rolled his eyes. "Remember?" He lifted the blank
canvas covered by the sheet up.

"Not double agent for us," Oz told him, finding the door and twisting
the door knob. "Double agent for Liam." He pulled the door open for
Xander. "Like she and Liam set this plan up and then helped feed
our plan."

Xander shook his head. "Spike seems to trust her, and Spike has
major trust issues. So if he trusts Darla, then we should trust her.
It's a whole big trusty thing."

"Stay here," Oz told Xander once they'd stepped outside. "I'm gonna
get my van."

Moments later, Oz had backed the van up as close as he could to the
gallery. Xander opened the back and shoved the canvas inside,
walking around to the passenger side and hopping in.

"Let's go."
***

Buffy drummed her fingernails on the coffee table, staring at the
clock sitting on the mantle. She had five minutes to wait before she
would go to the gallery and "make sure" she'd set the alarm and such
things. She bit her lip as the minute hand ticked off one more minute.
She was tempted to call Spike to pass the time, and besides, she
missed him.

She snatched the phone sitting next to her on the coffee table up
and dialed the first six numbers of Spike's number and sighed. "C'mon
Buffy, just call him," she muttered. She pressed the last number and
waited for Spike to pick up the phone.

:Hello,: he said distractedly.

"Spike, hi," she said. "How are things so far?"

:Odd and the Whelp just left the gallery so I'm on the road now,: he
told her. And, like she wasn't supposed to hear, :It's my girlfriend, you
bloody pillock!:

"Huh?" Buffy asked eloquently.

:Bloody wankers on the bloody road honkin' at me to get off my bloody
phone,: he muttered. :...Bloody hell. Where'd the van go?:

"Spike?" she inquired, rising to the brink of panic. "Spike? You can
find them again, can't you?"

:Sorry luv, I have to go.: He hung up.

Buffy sighed and turned the phone off, gathering her purse and
sprinting out the door to her car. She'd go to the gallery and everything
would be fine. Everything would be fine.
***

Liam looked over his shoulder at Drusilla. "Dru," and then over his other
shoulder, "Darla. It's time to form a plan of our own."

The women nodded.

"Darla, their plan?"

She took a deep breath, felt like she was sinking into the floor, and
proceeded to explain Team Scooby Doo's plan.
***

Spike slammed the heel of his hand on the steering wheel, cursing the
entire night and the entire plan and the entire mess. He still hadn't
found the van again, and he had a feeling they'd gotten off the highway
at the last exit ramp. So he turned around, dodging cars swerving around
him headed the opposite way, and veered off the last exit ramp.

Their plan was falling apart, already.

Spike's ankle throbbed painfully in his boot but he ignored it as he nearly
put the pedal to the metal. He careened around a corner and almost
smashed into the back of...

...Oz's van.

He'd found it. The plan was back on track.
***

Liam smirked. "They don't exactly have the greatest tactitians, do they,
Darla?"

"No sir," Darla answered.

"That's all fine and dandy," Drusilla interjected. "But...it's actually a good
plan for a bunch of eighteen-year-olds. What are *we* going to do, my
darlings?"

Liam immediately snapped into tactitian mode. "Send Jonathan and Warren
to intercept Buffy at the gallery. Oz and Xander should be here soon with
Spike, so Darla, you go out and pretend like that's where you're supposed to
be. Drusilla, go find Spike's car and...detain...him. Send Andrew to
intercept Cordelia."

Drusilla's lips curled into a cruel smile. "It is done, Liam."

Darla nodded, "It's as good as done."
***

Buffy carefully drove to the gallery. She didn't want to get there and catch
Xander and Oz in the act of "stealing" a painting from the gallery, despite the
fact she'd just spoken to Spike about it earlier. So she was glad that when
she pulled up to the curb that both the van and Spike's DeSoto were gone.

She took a deep breath and stepped out of her car, locking it. The minute
she looked up, she was flanked by two guys: a guy with black hair and a
shorter boy with brown hair. They didn't look exactly threatening, and she
recognized them from school.

"Warren?" she frowned. "Jonathan? What are you two doing here?"

"We just wanted to say hello," Jonathan said, offering a friendly smile.
Her frown deepened.

"And we also wanted to say..." Warren started. The next thing Buffy felt
was something hard and heavy smack her in the back of the head, followed
by darkness. "...Sweet dreams."

Jonathan glared at Warren. "You didn't have to hit her so hard."

"Our orders were to intercept her," Warren told Jonathan. "What else were
we supposed to do?"

"Keep her from going inside," Jonathan argued. "Our orders were to
intercept, not knock her out."

Warren hung his head and whapped Jonathan in the back of the head.

"Ow!" Jonathan rubbed the back of his head. "You're so mean, Warren."

"You're such a girl, Jonathan," he told the shorter boy. "Let's get her out
of here."
***

Cordelia frowned. She and Buffy had decided that Buffy would call
Cordelia as soon as she got to the gallery, and then after the police got
to the gallery, she would call her again so she would know when to call
the law enforcement. She'd yet to receive either phone call. She'd even
called Buffy's house and was told by Joyce that Buffy had left more than
a half-hour ago to go to a friend's house, or that's what Buffy had told
her.

That found Cordelia walking down the sidewalk towards the gallery, head
down. She was concerned for the plan and worried something bad had
happened to Buffy. Maybe Liam had somehow found out about their plan?
Cordelia's mind immediately snapped to Darla.

"That traitor," she grumbled. "I knew we couldn't trust her..."

"Excuse me, are you Miss Cordelia Chase?" a boy with blond hair stepped
out of the shadows.

"What's it to you?" Cordelia snapped without thinking.

"Xander told me to tell you that something went wrong with The Plan," the
boy said. "Whatever The Plan is."

Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"I'm Andrew," the boy said, his nasal voice starting to grate Cordelia's already
frazzled nerves.

"Why would Xander tell you anyth--" Cordelia crumpled as Andrew whacked
her on the head with the same thing Warren had smacked Buffy with.

"He didn't," Andrew muttered. "Liam did," he hefted the girl into his car.
***

Spike tried to call Cordelia for the fifth time. She'd still yet to pick up the
phone. He'd left four messages and was about to leave his fifth when
Drusilla suddenly appeared by his window. He dropped the phone, staring
at her.

Drusilla opened the driver's side door. "William."

"Dru," he blinked rapidly. "How did you--"

"It doesn't matter. Liam has a little surprise for you," she taunted,
gripping his hand and gently pulling him out of the car. Spike, still in a
daze, complied without thinking. She led him to a door marking one of
the many entrances into the actual lair. Where Spike had parked was
the first layer of the lair, a large airport-like parking garage with various
expensive cars littered around. The walls were an ugly, putrid brown and
the ceiling was a sickly gray.

Drusilla led him through the door and into an elevator. The elevator
consisted of the same putrid brown walls and sickly gray ceiling, only
these were accompanied by a disgusting hospital green carpet. The
buttons lit up an eye-scorching red as Drusilla pushed them.

"Love what they've done with the place," Spike murmured sarcastically.

Drusilla laughed and the elevator jolted into movement. The descent was
painstakingly trying for Spike's patience. Every part of their plan except
for the beginning had fallen apart. Cordelia would've answered her phone
if something hadn't happened to her or Buffy, which meant the two girls of
Team Scooby Doo were actually in trouble. And he felt so helpless, he
couldn't do anything right now, except...

Drusilla held a hand gun to his temple. "Move and I'll blow your head off,
boy," she hissed.

"I wasn't--" Spike tried to protest.

"Don't speak," she told him. "This gun is loaded. It will blow your bloody
head off."

Spike froze, averting his eyes to the ground as his breath caught in his
throat.

"Good boy."
***

Darla waited by the service entrance as the van containing Oz, Xander,
and the "painting" rolled up. Oz frowned and hopped out. "Darla? Aren't
you supposed to be inside?"

Darla nodded. "I came out to see what was keeping you guys. Traffic?"

"You could say that," Xander told her. "Where do we take the painting?"

"I think Liam actually wanted to come out and greet you guys," Darla said.
She felt awful about spinning these lies and knowing that eventually these
two were going to have to be "detained" and dragged inside, unconcious.
She had originally started out wanting to help Team Scooby Doo, but her
"love" for Liam had won out and she wanted to help him more.

Oz nodded. "Well, where is he?"

"Get the painting and come here. I'll call him," Darla told them. Xander
obediently got the "painting" out of the cargo area of the van and approached
Darla, dragging Oz with him.

She slammed the butt of her gun on both of their heads and placed it back
in its holster around her waist. "Sorry, guys, but what Liam says goes around
here."
***

When Buffy came to, she was tied to a pole with Spike on the other side.
Their wrists were tied to each other's and their waists were tied to the
pole. Buffy found her ankles tied together and a piece of cloth tied around
her head, preventing her from speaking. She came to the conclusion that
Spike probably had received the same treatment, except she could hear him
rustling about on the other side--not to mention feel it by the way the ropes
rubbed her wrists raw.

From where she sat, there was another pole she could see to her left.
Cordelia was tied to it by herself, and she still remained unconcious. To the
right was another pole, where two unconcious male bodies sat. She figured
they were probably Oz and Xander.

Suddenly, the only door inside the room opened. Bright light cascaded their
visitor into shadow, preventing Buffy from identifying who it was.

Spike growled and managed to chew through the gag in his mouth. "Let us
go, you bloody pillock."

"Not likely," Liam responded, stepping into the room and closing the door.
The light instantly disappeared until Liam flipped a switch near the doorframe.
Light flooded the room.

Buffy snapped her eyes shut. She made a moaning sound, trying to
complain against the invasion of electricity.

"Where's that lying li'l bitch of a traitor?" Spike demanded.

"Who, Darla?" Liam asked innocently.

"No, the ghost of bloody Christmas past," Spike snarled. "Who do you
think?"

"She's dead," Liam said simply.

"You *bastard*!" Spike roared. "She was my *cousin*!"

"I know. She also broke the code," Liam shrugged. "Now, what to do
with five snot-nosed brats...?"

Xander managed to chew through his gag as well by now. "Un-gag us,
Liam. We promise not to speak out of turn."

"Hm, well, I am getting tired of talking to William," Liam agreed. He
ungagged Oz and Cordelia and Buffy. He stopped at Buffy. "Buffy," he
caressed her face as Spike seethed. "Still looking lovely as ever."

"Go to hell," she spat.

"You got an attitude," he smiled. "Beautiful," he kissed her roughly.

"GET OFF OF HER!" Spike shouted angrily.

Liam actually did as Spike yelled at him to do. He also pulled a gun
from his waistband and held it at Spike's temple. "I don't think you're
in any position to be telling *me* what to do, William."

Spike looked up at him, ice blue eyes ablaze. "Let them go and I'll stay."

"Nah, I think you'll be the first to go," Liam released the safety on the
pistol, much to Buffy's horror.

"Leave him alone, Liam!" she cried.

"After him, I think I'll go do Xander," Liam said thoughtfully, carelessly
playing with the trigger on the pistol. "And then that brown-haired kid.
And that other girl. Then you can stay with me, Buffy."

"I'd rather die," she told him through gritted teeth.

"Then maybe I'll kill you and let this impertinent brat live," Liam shrugged,
nearly pulling the trigger on Spike.

Spike, meanwhile, was working hard but discreetly to work his hand from
the rope bindings. "No, if you kill her, I'll kill you, Liam. You can *bet*
on that."

"Can't have that, can we?" Liam smirked. "Stop trying to get free. You're
just going to rub your wrists raw. And if you don't, I'll pull the trigger.
Doesn't matter to me."

"No, I think if you were gonna pull tha' trigger, you'da done i' already," he
taunted Liam. He was actually rather frightened, for his life and for every-
one else's lives. His fear showed by his losing control of his t's.

Liam shrugged. "See you in hell, bastard."

And he pulled the trigger.

In The Hospital