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Chase slides carefully into the passenger seat of Foreman's car, pressing down tightly on the lid of the large styrofoam cup he's holding. "One tall demonic mind-control potion, extra foam. As ordered."

"I can't believe we did it," says Foreman, reaching down to start the ignition.

Fred leans forward from the back seat and smiles at both of them. "You did great. You guys are naturals."

Foreman grins back at her. "Well, we've been sent on some freaky-ass missions before, but I think this one definitely qualifies as the freakiest ass of them all." He stares at the cup in Chase's hands with wonder. "What do you suppose Vogler's game is?"

Chase shrugs. "Stuff like this, it could be turned into a tranquilliser, an anaesthetic, a date rape drug, a weapon, anything. One thing's for certain - it'd make him a boatload of cash, whatever he did with it."

"Man's a billionaire anyway, though, isn't he?"

"Sure, but how much money is enough money?"

Foreman pulls out into the steady stream of traffic. "Maybe he got bored with making money and just wants to take over the world."

There's a little pause while they all look at each other.

"I think we need to get this stuff back to Angel," says Fred, and Foreman puts his foot down.

*

Vogler steps further into the room, taking care to keep within the patch of sunlight. One of the black-suited men slips outside, taking up a sentry-like position. The remaining five heft weapons: stakes, crossbows, handguns. One holds a rifle, pointed towards Nina. She bares her fangs and growls, and he raises it to his shoulder.

Angel takes a step forward, and the crossbow swings to cover him. It's loaded with a thin, sharp and deadly-looking wooden bolt. Vogler looks at him calmly. "Your suit may protect you from the sun, but it doesn't look like it's going to be quite as efficient at keeping out a stake. Shall we test it?"

Angel's whole body tenses, but eventually he moves back again. Vogler smiles. "Better. Now, I'm sure we can conclude matters like civilised men."

"Personally," says Spike, "I've always thought civilisation is highly over-rated." He snatches House's cane out of his hand and throws it like a spear at the guy holding the crossbow. House overbalances, his leg giving way under the sudden loss of support. He crashes to the ground just as a bullet zings through the space where his head would have been.

The cane finds its target and the crossbow flies out of its owner's hand, the bolt discharging and ripping through a row of rubber dresses hanging on a rail before slamming into the side wall.

"He'll pay for damages," says Spike, pointing at Angel, and then feints towards the guy with the stake. The guy starts a counter-move but Spike has already changed direction, a booted foot lashing out to connect with the wrist of the guy holding the handgun. Bones shatter audibly, and the gun goes skittering across the floor. Lorne dives for it while Angel throws himself at the rifleman, who's been edging towards Nina's cage. They grapple for the weapon, until Angel brings a knee up hard into the man's groin. He inhales a loud, sharp breath and begins to double up. Angel wrests the gun out of his hands and slams the butt up into his chin. The man's head snaps back and he immediately drops to the floor.

Lorne gets to his knees, holding out the pistol in wavering hands. "Stop," he says to the room in general. "Just - stop." When nobody pays any attention, he shuffles across the floor towards House. "I hate this part," he mutters, trying to cover them both with the gun.

House pulls himself up painfully into a sitting position, wincing as he straightens his leg. "Yeah. I think I preferred the bits without the murderous violence myself."

A fist suddenly appears out of nowhere, catching Lorne full in the face. He rocks backwards, and the fist uncurls and grabs at the pistol. It fires, and a hole blooms in the roof above. Sunlight streams down.

"Shit," yells Spike, snatching back the hand that had been about to reach out to Lorne. He tucks it into his armpit, and a small trail of smoke drifts upwards. "Angel," he calls. "Angel."

Lorne's attacker punches him again, a heavy gold ring slicing through the bandages and drawing blood. Lorne staggers backward and his head cracks against the wall. He lets out a whoofing sound and slides to the floor.

He sits still, blinking rapidly. "Remind me," he says to House, "that I'm not the hero type, huh?"

Behind them Nina goes wild, hurling herself repeatedly at the bars and snarling. Angel dashes across the room and launches a flying kick that sends the black-suited man crashing head-first against the cage. He shudders as Nina's claws slice through his neck, his heels drumming a staccato rhythm against the floor. A bright jet of blood soaks her fur.

The two remaining men retreat, backing off towards Vogler. One still has a stake, and he brandishes it at Angel.

Vogler looks at them, and then at Angel. He seems equally disappointed with both. "Well now," he says. "I was hoping things weren't going to have to get so - " he breaks off, and looks at the bodies on the floor. "Messy. But I can see you have your own way of doing things, and I respect that." He takes his hands out of his pockets, and chuckles. "Never let it be said I can't be flexible in my business dealings."

Spike takes a step forward, and Vogler turns to face him, lifting a hand to shield his eyes against the sun. "And what are you going to do, Mr Vampire? Glare me to death?" He smiles. "Your boss is the only one who can risk coming over here, and he has more sense than that."

"I wouldn't count on it," says Spike, as Angel takes a swing at him. "And he's not my /boss/."

Amazingly, shockingly, quick, Vogler reaches up and grabs Angel's fist. They stand locked together for a while, the surprise evident on Angel's face. Vogler's smile doesn't waver.

It does, however, turn green.

The suit he's wearing seems to evaporate somehow, to be replaced by rough fur and grassy-looking nodules. A few extra pairs of arms - well, limbs of some sort - appear in unlikely places. The smile becomes full of small, razor-like teeth.

"Well, shit," says Spike. "He's the Mannika?"

Lorne looks Vogler up and down. "Good colouring," he says grudgingly. He struggles to his feet, leaning down to help House do the same.

"Oh, come on," says House. "Don't tell me I'm the only one who saw that coming."

When they all look at him blankly, he shrugs. "Like I said, I'm not known for thinking the best of people. Still - If you've got to die, at least it's nice to be able to do it while being vindicated. I told Cuddy he was evil."

"Nobody's going to die," says Angel. He glances down at the body by the cage. Nina's managed to drag an arm through the bars and is chewing on it. "Well, nobody else."

Vogler turns the sharp, mossy-coloured smile on him. "I'm afraid that's going to turn out to be an inaccurate statement."

"Well then, we'll just have to agree to disagree." Angel smiles back. "Or I could always prove you right by ripping your head off. If that's not too uncivilised for you."

Vogler flexes his many fingers. "Oh, sometimes I think it's good to take a more hands-on approach, don't you?"

They begin to circle each other, when there's a screeching roar from outside and Foreman's car comes skidding into the lot. "Angel," calls Fred as they come tumbling out of the car. "We found the coffee shop, it - "

She breaks off as she sees the guy on guard duty outside. The sunlight glints on the gun in his hand. "Oh, hi there. We, uh, obviously have the wrong address. Sorry to bother you. Come on, guys."

She backs up, but Vogler's voice carries from inside. "On the contrary, Ms Burkle, I would be personally honoured if you'd join us."

Chase peers inside. "That sounded like - is that - oh. Oh, shit."

He starts to turn, but the gun comes up and they all freeze. The guard motions them inside. "You wouldn't want to refuse Mr Vogler's kind invitation, would you?"

"Oh god," says Chase as he's shoved unceremoniously through the door. "We're going to die."

"I think we just did that one," says Spike.

Fred shrugs off the guard's hand and walks inside unaided. She drops her bag and raises her hands in the air. "It's okay. Angel's got a plan. Angel always has a plan."

They all look at Angel, who shrugs. "I was going with the whole head-ripping-off thing."

The guard pushes Foreman through too and then stands by the side of the door, the gun held steady in both hands. The other two have recovered their stakes and crossbows, and have them all trained on Angel and Spike. Vogler shakes himself and long, wicked-looking spines shoot out from the tips of his fingers.

Spike looks at Chase. "Okay, you might have had a point."

"Last chance to settle this," says Vogler. "All I actually want is the werewolf. If I'd realised at the time what she was then we wouldn't be in this position, but - " he shrugs. "My bad. But now that I do know, I want her back. Such a fascinating specimen. She would enrich our, um, research greatly. For a man of science such as myself, she's a wonderful opportunity for study. So why don't you just let me take her and we can wrap this whole thing up without further bloodshed."

He looks at them all in turn, then smiles. "Oh, who am I kidding? I love bloodshed."

With a roar, he launches himself at Angel. A fast swipe with one of his front arms rips a half-dozen clean slices through Angel's suit and smoke immediately begins to rise from it. Angel leaps backwards out of the sun, slapping at his chest. He glares at Vogler. "Goddammit! Do you know how much this thing cost? It used up just about half my whole budget for personal protection."

Spike turns towards him, eyebrows raised. "You have a budget for personal protection? How come I don't have a budget for personal protection?"

Angel waves away the residue of smoke drifting up from the suit. "Maybe because I don't want you protected?"

House clears his throat. "Do you think you two could try fighting the bad guys first? It's just a thought."

"We'll talk budgets later," spits Spike, and lets loose a spinning kick at Vogler. It knocks him back a couple of steps, but he stays upright. Spike lands on one foot and spins sideways again to avoid the patch of sunlight from the hole in the roof. "I feel like a bloody ballet dancer," he mumbles.

He drops flat to the floor at the sound of the crossbow being cocked, and the wooden bolt whistles above his head to thud into the wall. Angel ducks a blow from Vogler's tail and grabs the crossbow out of the guy's hands before he can reload. He smashes it over his knee, sending pieces of wood and metal flying.

Fred dodges a piece of shrapnel and glances at Chase and Foreman. They all look at the guy holding the gun on them.

He shakes his head. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

"I would," says Spike, and grabs House's cane from where it had fallen earlier. He brings it round in a wide arc, cracking the gunman over the head. He staggers, and Fred dives for the gun.

Vogler swings back around, one of his spines almost impaling Chase while his tail sends Foreman crashing into the wall. Spike darts forward but is brought up short by the sunlight streaming through the roof. On the other side of it, Vogler smiles and takes a step towards Fred.

Spike shouts her name, as she finally manages to wrest away the gun. She whirls and holds it out towards Vogler, who laughs. "You don't seriously think that little thing is capable of hurting me?"

"No," says Fred. "But I'm hoping she might be." Her arm moves a few degrees and she fires into the lock on the cage door.

Nina throws herself at it again and this time it gives, swinging wide open. She stalks out into the middle of the room, growling. She sniffs the air and her head swivels slowly towards House and a still-bleeding Lorne. She takes a stiff-legged step towards them.

Vogler laughs again. "Not a bad plan. But you forgot your basic nature lessons, I'm afraid. The predator will always go for the easiest prey. And that, my dear, isn't me."

"I didn't forget," says Fred. "That was only part one of the plan." She keeps the gun trained on Vogler. "Robert," she hisses. "The coffee. The /coffee/."

Chase stares at her, then sees where her eyes dart to. He's standing by the right-hand side of the door, where she'd dropped her bag earlier. The styrofoam cup of venom is still inside, and the lid is still on.

He reaches down and grabs it, then flips off the lid and flings the contents at Nina. The greenish liquid splashes into her face and she lets out a startled yip. She shakes her head, and little droplets go flying. Then her tongue snakes out and she licks at the wet fur around her mouth. She swallows, then drops her head to the floor and licks up the spillage.

"Good girl," breathes Chase.

She turns her head to face him, her eyes locking onto his. "Good girl," he says again, a little louder. "Nina, come here."

She pads over to him, her eyes never leaving his. He takes a deep breath then crouches down in front of her. "Nina," he says, "listen to me. Do exactly what I tell you."

He straightens up, and points at Vogler. "Kill."

She carries on looking at him for a second, then slowly swings around towards Vogler. Her lips pull back from her teeth as she snarls, and the muscles in her hind legs tense up in preparation. In one fluid movement, she springs forward and connects solidly with Vogler's chest. He lets out a whooshing sound and goes over backwards as her claws rake across his neck and shoulders, green blood bubbling up through the fur. All of his arms come up and the spines sink into Nina's back. She howls and they roll over, locked together.

Vogler opens his mouth and begins to roar something, but the sound is cut off when Nina's fangs sink into his throat. He takes in a ragged, liquid breath as she buries her face deeper, then all sound ceases as she pulls her head back in a vicious sweep, his flesh ripping away and leaving a gaping hole. His head flops back and smacks down onto the floor, and a gush of blood flows out of both his mouth and his ruined throat. Nina howls in triumph then brings her head back down, pushing her mouth into the glistening flesh and swallowing.

"Good girl," says Chase, then falls to his knees and vomits quietly.

TBC...