I don’t own Torchwood or Buffy the Vampire Slayer … I do however own the cracked story idea – and proud of it, thankyouverymuch!  I don’t own the title of this story either, however, that was thought up by the wonderful </a></b></a>ickle18(I say wonderful because anyone who can come up with this title must be), the daughter of </a></b></a>missthingsplace  THANK YOU!

So, after my computer died a horrible death (and is still dead) I've been having to nick my mother and my father's computers at every available opportunity (oh, the joys of being computer-less).  Anyway, I finally managed to write the next chapter.  How? By telling myself I couldn't read missthingsplace's latest story until I ignored my handcramp (caused by the lousy keyboard I'm using) and just typed! lol

It worked, too.  (Although no force on this planet (or other planets) could stop me from reading her story In Heaven and Hell.)

Wednesday 6th August
11:38

Buffy was running, fast, and it felt so good. The wind was whipping through her hair and taking away all her frustrations and worries as she ran.  She was alone, not having to concentrate on what she said or did so as not to offend Spike or make him think she was going to leave him for Angel within a week.  She could just run in a straight line forever…

Of course, the demon she was tailing had other ideas.

 “The demon is heading for a primary school nearby!” Tosh’s voice crackled through the earpiece she was wearing. “Take a sharp left straight ahead.” Buffy turned, dodging down the alleyway, vaulting a lone wheelie bin and flying over the top of a chain link fence before continuing on her way. “Turn right!” Tosh exclaimed and Buffy did as she was told, increasing her pace, adrenaline surging through her system, dodging cars as she crossed the road ahead, ignoring the shouts of anger she was receiving from the drivers.

 “Tosh, where is it? I’ve lost it!” Buffy exclaimed, not pausing in her running as she headed towards the school.

 “It’s heading your way,” Tosh said. “You’ll reach the school approximately ten seconds before it.”

Buffy nodded, a futile gesture, and continued her pursuit. Seconds later she found herself stood still, hands resting on her knees as she bent double, looking for the demon, stood in the middle of the playground surrounded by parents and their casually dressed children.  Wasn’t it school holidays? She looked up at the banner suspended above the school doors. A charity fund raising car boot sale.  Lovely.

At that moment the demon jumped the fence, flying through the air and landing on Buffy, sending her rolling across the ground as it jumped clear of her and ran for the nearest child; a little girl of about seven years old.

The mother screamed and the other kids and mothers followed suit. “Calm down!” Buffy yelled. “Stop screaming!” She turned to the demon, hoping it even vaguely understood English. “Let the child go and I won’t hurt you,” she promised.

 “What’s going on?” Tosh asked through her headset.

 “The demon has taken a hostage; a child,” Buffy replied, quietly, as the demon evaluated her. There was a muffled gasp at the end of the line. “Just let her go,” Buffy said to the demon, again.

The child screamed, causing the demon to jump, letting go of her for a split second, long enough for her to wriggle free and fall to the ground, screaming as she saw her captor for the first time. “Mummy!” she yelled. “Mummy!”

 “Shut up, kid,” Buffy snarled, desperately, as she pulled a dagger from her sleeve. The demon looked Buffy up and down, sneering at her. She glowered at it, dangerously. “Kid … run,” she said, quietly.  The child didn’t need to be told twice; instantly she jumped up and ran away.  As the demon lunged for her again, Buffy attacked, throwing herself at the monster three times her size and tackling it to the ground, the dagger aimed at its throat.

The demon struggled, flipping them over so that it was on top.  It grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, the dagger falling uselessly from her grip. 

 “Buffy! What’s going on?”

 “Not now, Tosh!” Buffy groaned as the demon’s fangs descended upon her throat, intent on ripping her apart like a weevil would.

She was just thinking how ironic it was, that after everything she’d been through, it was going to be a run of the mill demon at a primary school in Cardiff that finally did her in, when it yelled out and Buffy saw a metal pole protruding from its chest.  As it collapsed upon her, blue blood flowing freely over her new shirt, she shoved it away, staring up at the woman above her.

The woman smiled, offering Buffy a hand up, which the Slayer gratefully accepted. “Ugh, these stains never come out,” she whined.

 “Thank you,” the woman said.  For the first time, Buffy noticed the child cuddled against her mother’s side – the hostage. “You saved my daughter’s life.”

 “And you saved mine,” Buffy replied.  She remembered the phrase ‘never mess with a mother’ but had never truly understood it until now. “We’re even.”

 “Not even close,” the mother replied with a smile. “What was that?”

 “A demon,” Buffy answered, blandly. “They’re rife around here now.  You might want to move somewhere safe… somewhere with absolutely no demons.  California, maybe?”

11:49

 “He’s not getting any better. It’s been over a week … and there’s been no change.”

Owen turned to look at Willow, who was leaning against the back wall of the vaults, watching Angel sleep. “Any suggestions?” he enquired. “Any way of making him vaguely human again?”

 “We could ask Buffy,” Willow said, cautiously.

 “Don’t you remember what Jack made us agree to?” Owen said, with a glare. “’You do not, under any circumstances, involve Buffy in rehabilitating Angel. It will be hard enough for her when he’s normal again. Am I making myself clear?’”

Owen’s impersonation of Jack was so eerie Willow couldn’t help but laugh out loud at it.

 “Think she’s sussed it out yet?” she enquired.

 “What, that Jack’s assigning her ten field missions a day to keep her out of the hub? She’s not stupid, Willow; if she hasn’t worked it out already, she will do soon.”

Willow sighed, walking across to the cell and touching the glass. “I wish he’d just snap out of it already.  How long can one guy brood?”

 “He’s not brooding,” Owen said. “He’s been tortured in hell for hundreds of years. He’s got psychological damage.”

 “He was fine when we saw him again.  We never saw him … like this.” Willow turned to look at Owen as he approached. “What if only Buffy can bring him back?”

 “Then we’ll deal with that eventuality if it happens.”

 “Angel,” Willow said through the holes in the glass. “Can you hear me? Do you recognise me?”

Angel looked up at her, a glint of recognition in his wild eyes. “W-Willow?” he said, weakly.

 “Yes! Angel, yes! It’s me; Willow!” she exclaimed. “Angel, are you okay?”

 “Buffy … want … Buffy …” Angel said, turning back to the corner of the cell, something he’d taken to doing since his chains had been removed.

 “Fuck,” Owen said.

”Owen!” Willow scolded.

 “What do you want me to say? He’s basically saying he’ll only respond to Buffy,” Owen grumbled. “So we’re screwed without her help.”

Willow looked at him, sadly. “We’re not screwed,” she said. “There are ways of getting through to him.  We used to be friends … I’m sure there is a way …”

 “Maybe Xander could help us out?”

Willow’s explosive laughter in reaction to that suggestion caused even Janet to cover her ears.

12:31

Buffy was exhausted, every muscle in her body aching, as she walked into the hub. She made a beeline for the coffee machine, beside which Ianto was stood. “Ianto, do you have anything so full of caffeine I’ll be twitching for the next month?”

Ianto blinked at her and nodded. “Um… yep.”

 “I’ll take something slightly stronger than that, then, please, if you could,” she requested.  As she finished her sentence her legs gave out, causing her to fall forwards into Ianto’s arms.  He caught her, easily, and held her up, half-carrying her across to the sofa, upon which he deposited her, gently.

 “Buffy, when was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” he asked, concernedly.

Buffy looked at him, blankly, for a moment before responding. “The night before I died, I believe,” she informed him.

He couldn’t believe what he was about to ask, but did so anyway. “Which time?”

 “The time before last; when I jumped from a tower into an energy storm,” Buffy replied.

 “But that was about a year ago, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, silently, leaning over to lie down on the settee, closing her eyes. “I’m just going to rest here for a moment …” she said, with a content sigh. 

Ianto stroked her head, gently, before standing up and, with a determined expression on his face, striding into Jack’s office without knocking (it was safe for him, after all, unlike the others). “Jack, do you have any idea what you’re doing to that poor kid out there?” He realised she was only a few years younger than him, but it felt like so much more sometimes.

Jack looked up from his desk. “Hello to you, too, Ianto.  I’m fine, thank you for asking.” He glowered at the younger man, albeit weakly. “No, what am I doing to ‘that poor kid out there’?”

Ianto grabbed him by the arm, hauling him to his feet and over to the door. He pointed at Buffy. “Look,” he said. “She practically fell asleep on her feet. You’re overworking her.”

 “She’s gorgeous while she’s sleeping,” Jack said, tilting his head to one side and squinting slightly. Ianto coughed. “But you’re more gorgeous,” Jack amended, with a grin. Ianto rolled his eyes.

”Jack, I don’t want to discuss how gorgeous Buffy is … and I certainly don’t want to discuss how gorgeous I am,” he said, sarcastically. “Just look at her; she hasn’t slept for months.”

 “Nor have I, your point?”

Ianto scoffed. “Liar,” he accused. “You were fast asleep when I came home last night.”

“I was?  Huh. I don’t remember.”

“That would be because you were asleep!” Ianto pointed out, irritably.

“I suppose.” Jack leant against the doorframe as he watched Buffy. “So what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stop using exhausting field missions to keep her out of the hub,” Ianto said. “Or, at least, try not to do so at night … let the girl get some sleep.”

“But the demons and aliens are more active at night,” Jack said.

“Then why are you always sending her out in the daytime?”

Jack was silent for a moment before he sighed. “Honestly … if we don’t … if I don’t … I’m afraid the demons will overrun Cardiff and then we won’t be able to stop them.”

 “So send Faith out,” Ianto suggested. “Faith may not be as experienced as Buffy, but she’s still strong and needs to get some experience … you could also send Gwen and Owen out with the Slayers, who could train them to be better at hand-to-hand combat with vampires and demons.”

”Has anyone ever told you you’re very sexy when you’re brainstorming, Ianto Jones?”

 “Focus, Jack!” Ianto snapped. Jack nodded, solemnly as Ianto continued. “Willow and Tosh are very competent witches now and, apparently, even before Willow became so powerful, she was often out Slaying with and without Buffy.”

“That time Buffy ran away, yeah, she told me,” Jack said.

“So send them out, too. And Spike; he’s just as good as the others,” Ianto suggested. “You could even send me out if you wanted to, Jack.  Just, let Buffy get some sleep sometimes?”

Jack nodded. “All excellent ideas.  I feel a team meeting coming on!”  He looked around the hub. “Where on earth is everyone?”

13:38

Having been roused from a peaceful slumber and dragged into work, Gwen was not a happy bunny as she sat at the conference table, a cup of Ianto’s industrial strength coffee resting against her lips.  Surrounding the table was the entire team; including Spike who had, yet again, managed to make it to the hub without becoming ashes (she kept meaning to ask him how he did that, but always forgot…).

 “So what’s so important you had to drag us into work, Jack?” Gwen asked.

“Last time I checked, Gwen, you were supposed to be in work today.  You were skiving.”

Gwen had the decency to look ashamed at that as she sipped her coffee, keeping her eyes on the floor.

 “Now,” Jack started. “The reason I called you all here is this …” He pointed at Buffy, who’s head was resting on the table as she snored quietly.  He reached out and touched her head, waking her up. She sat up straight in her chair.

 “I was … I wasn’t asleep … I was just … there was a bug in my eye and I was trying to suffocate it,” she babbled.

”It’s okay,” Jack said, with a fond smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned to the table. “That’s the reason we’re all here, actually,” he said. “I’ve noticed that, ever since Buffy and the others arrived, we, the original Torchwood team, have been slacking off and leaving Buffy and the others to do all our work.”

Ianto coughed.

 “Okay, fine; Ianto noticed it,” Jack admitted, holding up his hands in surrender. “But the point is still there. We’ve been running Buffy ragged.” He pointed at the Slayer, who was leaning against Spike’s shoulder, fast asleep.  “And she’s not coping well.  So, we need to start spreading out the work load.”

 “What are you suggesting?” Faith asked.

 “Basically,” Ianto piped up, “I suggested that you and Buffy train Gwen and Owen, and perhaps myself, to be a little more useful in the field hand-to-hand combat, wise.”

 “You want us to train them?” Faith demanded as though it was the stupidest idea she’d ever heard. “We’re slayers not teachers!”

 “Yes,” Jack answered, matter-of-factly, “I do.”

Faith opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Gwen. “I thought you said that as the team had expanded so much, we could be more relaxed with coming into work in the mornings and have more days off?”

Jack shrugged. “I did, but that was before the demons started coming through en masse.” He looked around the table at the annoyed people surrounding it. “We haven’t the skills to fight them,” he informed them, quietly. “If we don’t do this … we’re screwed, basically.”

 “Fine,” Gwen said, huffily, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat.  Ianto rolled his eyes at her and turned to Jack, who was watching Gwen intently.

 “Is it me or has Gwen degenerated into five year old in the last five months?” Jack quizzed, under his breath.

 “It’s you. We all noticed it when she first joined,” Ianto replied, equally as quietly.

Jack turned to look at Ianto, about to glare at him for his sense of humour.  Then he noticed he was deadly serious.  “Oh,” he said, simply. He turned back to the table. “So is everyone okay with this?”

The group as a whole shrugged (except Gwen, who continued pouting at her coffee like a child). “Let me know when and I’ll take one of them out for some training,” Faith said. “I still need to get back in your good books, boss.”

Jack nodded his agreement. “Gwen, are you okay with this?” he said, after a moment.  Gwen shrugged. “Gwen!” he snapped.

 “I’ll cope,” Gwen grunted, causing Ianto to roll his eyes again.

Jack turned to Owen and Willow, assuming Buffy was fast asleep. “So how goes rehabilitating Angel?” He didn’t notice Spike stiffen across the table.

 “He’s been calling out for Buffy,” Owen informed him, ignoring Willow’s frantic ‘shut up!’ gestures. “I think we need her help.”

 “No.” Everyone turned to look at Spike, who had spoken. “No,” he repeated. “He left her … it’s his own fault she’s not around anymore.”

 “But this Angel didn’t leave her, Spike,” Willow informed him, taking in the partially protective and partially possessive arm Spike snaked around Buffy’s back.

 “I don’t care,” Spike snapped. “If she goes and spends time with him again ... she’ll fall for him again.”

“Stop being so selfish!” Xander snapped back. “Think of poor Angel, stuck inside his own head.”

 “‘Poor Angel’?” Faith smirked. “I thought you hated the guy?”

Xander shrugged. “Feelings change with time and … comparisons.”

 “Basically, you prefer the soulful one to me,” Spike accused. “Get some perspective. Soul or no soul, I’d never, ever hurt Buffy.  One wrong move with that guy” – Spike jerked his thumb in the direction of the cells – “and he goes and loses his soul” – he turned to look sharply at Buffy, though she was still asleep – “which is not going to happen any bloody time soon” – he looked back at Xander – “and he’ll go back into kill-everything-he-sees-and-used-to-care-about mode.” He sneered at the group. “I’m the lesser of two evils … and that’s not something I ever expected to say.”

 “He’s right, Xander,” Willow pointed out.

Xander glowered at Spike. “I suppose so,” he said, with a grunt. “When you look at it that way.  I still don’t trust you though.” He pointed an accusing finger at Spike, who just rolled his eyes and held the sleeping form of Buffy closer against his chest.

 “So, Willow, Tosh, is there any spell or something you could cast on Angel to speed up his progress?” Jack enquired.

Willow thought for a moment. “There might be something, but I don’t know if it would work …”

 “Is it a danger to you, Tosh or Angel?” Jack asked.

 “No,” Willow replied.

 “Try it, then.” Jack sipped his coffee. “It’s worth a try, right?”

 “Absolutely,” Willow said, with her trademark smile. “Tosh will help me. Right, baby?” She turned to Tosh, who gave her an answering smile and nod.

Jack nodded distractedly as he looked around the table. “Anything else we need to discuss while we’re here?”

Owen piped up. “Tea-boy here is withholding caffeine.”

Ianto glowered darkly at Owen. “I thought we discussed you calling me ‘tea-boy’, Britney,” he said, with a smirk.

Owen coloured and looked down at his lap. “Yes, you’re right, we did. Never mind me then!” He sipped his coffee carefully. “Lovely coffee, Ianto.”

Jack looked curiously at Ianto, who smirked and told him, “Remember when you took us to the karaoke place?  I videoed Owen and Faith singing a Britney Spears song. I promised Owen I’d not show the video to anyone if he stopped calling me tea-boy.”

 “I like the way you think,” Jack replied, with a grin.

 “Thank you, Sir,” Ianto answered, grinning.

 “So anything of relevance left to discuss?” Jack asked the group.

Collective silence answered his question for him. “Alright then,” he said. “Hop to it!”

The table cleared out, Ianto and Jack running off to somewhere the rest probably didn’t want to know about, Spike hefting Buffy into his arms and asking Owen to drive them home, Faith, Gwen and Anya heading off to wherever the three of them headed off to after a conference and Xander approaching Willow and Tosh.

 “So how goes living together?” he asked, with a grin. “And don’t try and spare me any kinky details!”

Willow rolled her eyes at him. “No kinky details, Xander.” She paused. “Haven’t we had this basic discussion before?” She shook her head to clear it. “But living together is great. You should come around sometime. I haven’t seen you properly for ages.”

Xander looked awkward. “I don’t really know where you live,” he admitted.

Willow looked shocked. “What?”

 “I knew where you lived, Will, but I don’t know where Tosh’s apartment –”

Willow cut him off. “Flat.”

Xander sighed and corrected himself, “I don’t know where Tosh’s flat is.”

 “Well then,” Willow said, with a smile. “We’ll just have to show you.  There’s no getting out of visiting your best friend, dontcha know!”

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