Catch Me Now

Kevlar

Spike could barely feel his fingertips. Out of the corner of his eye, he vaguely could see Ed setting up a perch just behind the man's head, hoping above all hope that his vantage would keep Raella safe. He knew, deep down, there was no talking this psychopath down.

What he didn't know, was just how unsafe the love of his life really was.

Sure, he'd convinced himself a long time ago that he was over her; he managed to keep himself quiet for eighteen years, never once telling her how he felt. When she went off to New York, he took that as a sign that it wasn't meant to be. He allowed logic to tell his heart that she would never fall for him the way he'd always loved her - he was just Spike, after all. No one special, no one worth a girl as amazing as Ella. She deserved so much better than him. But now, now he stood looking at her, her beautiful hair tousled and torn around the fingers of a lunatic, tear stains painting her cheeks and tape around her mouth. He felt more helpless than he had ever felt in his entire life. There was nothing he could do but wait for Ed to be able to take the shot. Until then, Ella was in more danger than he could stop.

"Boss..." Jules whispered beside Greg's ear as she subtly glanced down at her PDA, "Winnie just sent me a message... The brother's name is Matthew Faber."

"What makes you so confident about this, Matthew?" Greg shot out another try at this, peaceful resolution still in the back of his mind though he knew the chances of that were miniscule.

"Don't you remember, Scarlatti? A phone call the other day? Mommy called from Italy to say that she heard from Raella's mother... She's coming home!" the man's voice was moving up and down in pitch, lunacy more obvious with every second.

Spike did remember.

"Hey, Ma."

"Michelangelo, I have wonderful news!" she exclaimed in her thick, Italian accent. "Rosa called me just a few minutes ago. Ella is coming back to Toronto! She is going to be very close, Mikey." At first, he really didn't know what to say. His mother had thrown that at him a little too fast.

"Come again, Ma?" He needed to hear it one more time.

"Your girl, she is coming back to Toronto. She wants to come back home so she is moving to an apartment close by her old house." Spike ran his fingers through his hair, surprise all over his face.

"Ma..." he dragged out the word, trying not to sound as happy as he really was, "She's not 'my girl'. She never was. She's got a boyfriend from New York."

"Oh, Michael," his mother groaned at his words, "You are so blind to the love, my son. She just needed you to be a man, go talk to her, you know?" Her voice was playful, joyfully teasing him because she knew just how silly he was being. He laughed quietly and shook his head.

"Right, Ma. Just go talk to her..."

"How the hell did he hear that conversation...?" Spike whispered under his breath, the Boss hearing him loud and clear.

"You love this girl, don't you, Scarlatti?" the man sounded on edge. Everyone's guns were ready. "You took my chance, officer! My beautiful bombs, they never reached the feeble minds of the people you protect - now you get to watch one of them die. Let's see what you can do!"

As his hand shook, the gun raising and suddenly preparing to fire, a shot was heard. A single bang. 

Ed had taken the shot, and Matthew Faber was no longer a threat.

--

As the man's fingers loosened from my hair, everything went in slow motion. The large shields that had been facing me for the uncountable minutes that had just passed went down, guns being dropped downward as a single form moved in my direction. I felt myself falling backward with the body of the man who had taken me, held a gun to my head, and used me as a way to destroy a person who I had been closer with than anyone else my entire life. Before I knew it, arms were wrapped around me, preventing me from hitting the ground and pulling me into a warm, vested chest. Immediately, the water works opened back up. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as someone's pocket knife tore through the rope around my wrists and ankles, my arms moving around Mike's neck as someone's nimble fingers pulled the tape from my lips.

"M-Mike," I fumbled through my crying, letting my head rest on his shoulder as he held me close and kneeled down to the ground. I felt his ragged breathing in my hair, never wanting him to let me go.

"Ell.... Ell, are you o-okay?" he asked quietly, "Did he hurt you?" His eyes showed just how afraid he was of hearing the answer. I leaned my head back long enough to meet his gaze, my body shaking as I reached up and clumsily wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"Y-Yeah, I-I'm okay... He h-hit me over the head back at my apartment, b-but after that, he only tied me up and br-brought me here." I nodded to reassure him, not letting my arms fall from around his neck as I turned to look up at the group of men - and woman - standing around me. An unmistakable mixture of concern and relief was on each of their faces, and I couldn't help but know that I owed every one of them my life. Keeping me in his hold, Michelangelo stood from the floor and adjusted me in his arms, carefully following his team into a different room where we didn't have to be sitting right next to the body of Faber. He sat me down onto a chair and kneeled beside it, smiling encouragingly, but still concernedly, up at me.

"Thank you, Winnie," the plain clothes officer said, still leaning on his cane as he gently took some ice from her hand and brought the bag forward. "Here, Spike. Until EMS gets here." Mike nodded and offered a small smile down to me as he took the ice bag, softly placing it to the back of my head.

"Just hold that there for me, okay?" he asked, setting my hand against the back of it, "While I take this vest off of you." I smiled a little and gave a slow nod, moving my arms out of the way as I held the bag to my head.

Mike gently began to unzip and unclip the vest from my middle. "So... Why would this basketcase put her in a bulletproof vest?" the tallest of them said, his head shiny with lack of hair and his eyes a piercing blue-grey.

"He wouldn't, Ed," Mike breathed out, his voice suddenly grim. Everyone's eyes immediately turned to him. "It isn't full of Kevlar. It's a bomb."