Rosebud Murders


Part Forty-One

Elvin Master was a man of meticulous organization. All of his previous "encounters", as he preferred to call them had gone off without a hitch. Part of that he attributed to the fact that God was on his side and partly due to his methodically executed schedule.

This recent turn of events was like a broken cog in the wheel of his plans. He knew from the look of the man and the gun he carried that the body at the bottom of the steps was a cop. He also knew from living with one that they travelled in packs like wolves and hyenas and if one was here others wouldn't be far behind..  If he was to complete tonight's assignment, his time was short.

Elvin leaned back against the mailboxes on the wall and he took several deep cleansing breaths. Reaching into his pocket he
withdrew the folded leather badge case he had taken out of Kennedy's drawer.

Flipping it open he looked at the fake ID he had created on his home printer and the toy badge bought at the local Walmart. He chuckled at the stupidity of people. Not one person had ever questioned it's authenticity.

He had wondered if part of the reason was God's intervention. Perhaps since his activities were heaven sanctioned, God convinced these wicked women that what they were seeing was real. A sort of Heavenly Host Hypnosis. To be honest, he knew that the average citizen wouldn't know a real badge from a fake one if it bit them on the ass.

Quickly he straightened himself, checked the front of his coat for blood spatter and smoothed back his short hair. He calmly turned his back on the horror he had created and bounded up the stairs two at a time.

Elvin walked briskly and confidently to the door he knew to be Dawn Summer's and squared himself directly in front. He wiped his feet on the bristly "Welcome" mat with the smiling frog and he raised his hand, knocking three times firmly.


The meek, soft voice sent shivers of pleasure coursing through Elvin's body settling sharply in his balls and cock. It was the beginning of an expected hard on that he would take home with him. Elvin prided himself on his ability to resist ramming his cock in the tight, sweet asses of these young girls. He knew, even with a condom, the chance of leaving DNA behind was just too great. Besides, God probably wouldn't approve. He had pretty stringent rules and there was no need to piss him off.

His other hand slipped into his inside coat pocket and he satisfied himself that the cool, damp rosebud was patiently waiting. He let his fingertips brush over the smooth petals gently, careful not to cause any damage. Like the others, he had snipped the stem short. Less than an inch from the bloom leaving just one small green leaf. He always double checked to make sure there were no thorns. That would be cruel.

He just hoped that this delay wouldn't prevent him from the joy of feeling the flower slowly slip up inside her hot, damp, probably whored out pussy. It always gave him a feeling of joy and power to know that his hand was the last one that would be up there.

But then later, when he was home, when he was alone...ah, yes. He would jack off a dozen times to the memory of this. Coming almost painfully as he remembered how it felt, the look on their face at the last second. The smell of the ones whose bladders released at the moment of death.

Elvin sighed, controlling the quiver in his voice. "Officer Jones, Ma'am. I need to come in and speak to you." Elvin stepped back and held up the leather case, careful to keep his fingers over the toy badge, concealing the cheap tin. His belly squirmed with anticipation waiting for the glorious sound of metal scraping metal as the locked turned and he was invited in.

"Um, what do you want? Did Detective Cooper send you?"

Elvin was stunned. The others couldn't open the door fast enough. They had begged him come in, offering him coffee and pleasantries. How dare this fucking bitch question him. The unexpected response shook him but he fought to control his

"Yes, Cooper told me to stop by and take another report on that um, thing you talked to him about. Now if you don't mind, Miss, I have a lot to do tonight. Can I come in?"

Dawn reached for the lock. If this had been just a couple weeks ago she would have opened the door, no questions asked. Now, however, something didn't feel right.

"I'm sorry but can you just wait a few minutes? I'm going to call Detective Cooper and check with him. O.k?"

Elvin felt every muscle in his body lock up. The disrespect being shown him tonight was simply more than he could stand. "NO It's not fucking o.k.!!"

He could feel the anger and outrage boil over, he knew he was past getting a grip and he no longer cared. He slapped his open palm against the wall. What the fuck else could go wrong? Pounding his fist on the door he bellowed at the top of his voice. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!! NOW!!! OPEN IT NOW YOU FUCKING BITCH OR YOU'LL BE SORRY!!!"

Dawn screamed and ran backwards away from the movement of the door as it shook with each pounding. Grabbing her phone off the end table she rushed, barefoot, into the small bedroom and locked the door.

Snatching the business card off the bedside stand, Dawn frantically dialed the number Detective Cooper made her promise to use. Pacing the room, she could still hear the maniac trying to force his way in and hurling death threats and curses.

"Come on, come on, please, please answer." Dawn listened to the phone continue to ring unanswered. Finally on the tenth ring the pre recorded voice mail cheerfully requested a message and offered the promise of a prompt call back.

"Detective Cooper, It's Dawn. He's here. He's trying to get in. Please come. Please help me. He's pretending to be a cop but I don't think he is. Please I'm so scared." With nothing more to say, she tearfully hung up. It felt like releasing her only life line.

Gripping the phone tightly in her hand she ran to the far corner of the room. To the small space between the wall and the bed and with her back as far into the corner as she could manage, Dawn slid down and crouched, hidden and praying for help to arrive in time.

Elvin had shouted and pounded his frustration till his temples throbbed and his voice was hoarse. He screamed so loudly it drowned out the sound of the cell phone repeatedly ringing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey! Shut up out there before I call the police. Decent people are trying to sleep ya know."

Elvin spun around facing the apartment across the hall and the sound of the nosey neighbor that was interfering in his business.

With more threats on the tip of his tongue, Elvin stopped. Something caught his ears. Something he had almost expected.

He heard sirens.

Part Forty-Two

The small dark Corvette flew through the streets of the city, the portable roof light flashing and the siren screaming. Spike had begged, ordered, demanded and cajoled the entire time it took to dash down the station house stairs and out to the parking garage.

With no idea what sort of situation they were rushing into Spike wanted desperately to leave Xander behind where he would be safe. It had fallen on deaf ears and Xander would not be cocooned.

The scanner in the car had been turned up and each unanswered well call to Cooper's radio only further solidified Spike's fears. Fred Cooper was not careless. He didn't just forget to turn his radio on and he didn't request a timed well call he didn't plan on responding to.

If he wasn't answering, he couldn't.

Together they had buckled up and were on the way. In truth, Spike took great comfort from the man sitting beside him. Xander had a quiet strength and stability that grounded Spike and kept him calmed. Xander reached over and placed his hand on Spike's knee. It was a move that just under an hour ago had brought passion and  overwhelming sexual need. Now, the heat of his touch brought reassurance.

Spike glanced over and saw the sadness in his lover's face. It caused his stomach to clench and he immediately turned his full attention back to the road. He wouldn't ask. He refused to let himself ask.

Squealing round the corner onto Market, they could see that they were just seconds behind the two cruisers that had slid to a stop in front of the given address. Spike recognized the dark older model car at the curb as belonging to Cooper. He remembered he had bought it just after his wife and daughters had left him, taking his heart and the family mini van with them. When asked, Cooper had just shrugged and said it was all the car he needed, especially since his family would be back soon.

Spike slammed to a stop beside the older car and rushed toward it. He shoved aside the officer who was reaching in to shut off the still blaring radio.

"Leave it! Don't you know anything about crime scene? How fuckin' stupid are you? I want this car taped off and no one comes near it till we find Detective Cooper and he tells us what's going on! Do you understand?"

The young patrolman nodded quickly, his eyes big and his body tense. "Yes, sir. Sorry sir, I'll personally make sure it's secured. Sorry."

Xander brushed his fingers over Spike's arm. A light touch that spoke volumes and acted like a splash of cold water. It was exactly what he needed to bring him to his senses, calm him down and help him slide into his professional persona.

He immediately patted the young officer on the shoulder and nodded. "That's good, son. Till we find out what's happened, we can't afford to jeopardize any evidence. You stand by here and if I need you, who do I call?"

"James, sir. Officer Mike James."

"O.k. Mike. Good man." Spike turned to Xander, drew his revolver and tipped his head.  "Let's go."

Both men rushed toward the front of the darkened building to join the three uniforms who looked to Detective Pratt for instruction. Just as he reached them he heard footsteps rushing up behind him and spun around. An enormous relief washed through him as he recognized his partner, and waited as she ran to his side, breathless and panting.

"Spike, it's Elvin. I'm sure. Kennedy's ex husband, Elvin is the killer."

All eyes turned to the silent, dark building behind them. No one questioned the validity of the statement. In a flash they then all looked to Spike. The feel of electric energy charged the air.

Spike had a million questions. How, what, who? All things that needed answered and understood. Now, however, trust overrode
all the unknowns and Spike accepted her statement as fact. "Our first concern is Fred Cooper. We need to locate him and find out what he knows. To do that as quickly as possible we surround and do a full sweep of the building. We don't know if there's a problem inside or not, just that.........."

Before he could finish, his pocket scanner crackled, and stopped him.

"Starcom to D1."

Spike responded instantly hoping desperately it was Cooper. That he was found, safe, and feeling foolish for causing this uproar.

"Go ahead, this is D1" Spike crossed his fingers.

"D1, we have a call from a female at that Market st. address. She reports an unknown male attempted to forcibly enter her apartment. Subject is quite distraught. Are you on location? Can you respond?"

Everyone standing there had heard the call and the knew things had just gone from bad to worse. Spike blanked his expression and pressed his mic. "Detective St. John and I are on location with five uniforms. We will respond. Please keep all on air traffic to a minimum and have an EMS vehicle on standby."

"Be careful, and keep us informed."

Spike and Faith were both surprised by the recognition of Giles voice on the last transmission, but had no time to consider it's implication.

"O.k. I want you two to circle the building. One on each side. If I'm right, all the exterior security lights have been broken out so use extreme caution. Scan the perimeter. We're looking for any signs of Fred Cooper. Detain anyone you see coming or going and call it in. Don't take any chances. Detective St.John and Officer Kennedy will enter through the back door, I'll go in the front. We will meet at the complainant's apartment. Everyone ready? Everyone know what to do?"

Six heads nodded in unison and immediately broke off into designated assignments, disappearing into the darkness. Spike and Xander were left alone at the front door of the apartment building. With his hand on the door knob, Spike paused and looked at his lover. "He's dead isn't he?"

Xander dropped his head. His lack of answer was his answer. Then his expression changed. It went from resignation to shock. "Someone else is going to be hurt Spike. I see his knife and I see blood. I don't know who or how bad but I see it coating his hands."

Spike choked back the emotion and blocked it from his mind. He couldn't let the knowledge of either of these victims affect his thinking. He raised his gun and stood to the side of the door. Motioning for Xander to position himself behind him, Spike mentally counted to three and jerked the door open, stepping in quickly and scanning the area as rapidly as possible.

He was met with darkness and near silence. The only sound was his own ragged breathing and the crunch of broken glass under his feet. The landing was dark, but the smell was familiar and overwhelming. It was the odor he hated. The one that filled his nose and stayed with him for days.

It was the stench of blood and death.

Part Forty-Three

The instant his beam of light settled on the still form at the bottom of the steps, Spike rushed to him. He knew from the dull, glassy stare in his open eyes and the huge amount of blood that pooled around his head that there was no hope, still, he crouched and pressed his fingertips against Cooper's carotid artery.

Spike hung his head and fought back a choked sob. His incompetence had cost a good man his life. Spike gently closed Fred's eyes and ran his hand over the cool, clammy face, paying no heed to the blood that coated the soles of Spike's boots.

The urgent, hoarse whispered voice from the top of the steps caught his attention. "Spike! Get up! We have to go. Now! Faith and Kennedy are in the building. So is the killer and they're the ones he really wants. We have to find him first."

Spike looked up at Xander who stood at the top of the stairs. He wiped the tears from his face and did his best to pull himself together. He swallowed the bitter taste that burned the back of his throat and took a deep breath. The odor of death coated his mouth and nose. This time he welcomed it. It fanned the flames of his hate and determination. Standing, he straightened his back, squared his shoulders and, with no further hesitation, dashed back up to the darkened landing, taking one last glance behind him.

It was an image he would carry with him to his grave. Yet as terrible as he felt about this, he had to set it aside. There would be plenty of time for recrimination later. "All right. The complainant's apartment is on the first floor. I can see light in the hallway so apparently he wasn't able or didn't have time to knock those out. Stay with me. Stay close to the wall and remember, he could be behind any door so don't stand directly in front of any of them."

Xander nodded and they started up. He could barely breath as he tried not to get sucked up in the overwhelming, strangling emotions his lover was feeling.

Reaching the top, Spike looked down the long silent hallway. There was no movement or sound. He took one step forward just as Faith appeared at the far end. Silently he raised his hand then pointed in the direction of the second door on the right hand side.

Quickly and cautiously they approached till they met, two on each side of the door. Using the blunt end of his flashlight, Spike knocked on the door and called out.  "Miss Summers? Stark County Sheriff. Are you all right?"

There was no answer. The fear hung in the air as heavy as smoke. Faith's face then lit up with an idea.

"Miss Summers? I'm Detective Faith. Are you o.k.? Don't open the door, Honey, just let us know."

"I'm..I'm o.k. Did you catch him? Is Detective Cooper out there?" The voice was so quiet they had to strain to hear, but the relief flooded and encouraged them. Faith looked to Spike with curiosity and mouth, "Cooper?" When the meaning behind his
expression became clear she fell back against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut, and her stomach fell to her feet..

Recovering marginally she was anxious to get moving. They had a killer to find and they were sitting ducks if they stayed here. "Listen to me, Honey. We have officers in the building and we're going to find him. I need you to promise me something. Promise me you will keep your door locked and no matter what you hear, don't open it until you hear my voice. Do you understand? You don't open it until I tell you to."

"I promise. I won't. Thank you Faith."

Spike pressed the button on the microphone clipped to his lapel and spoke, keeping his voice low. "Officer down. Send all available units. Back up needed at the Market st. address. EMS and ME needed to stand by on location. Suspect at large believed to still be in the building."

His radio, turned down low, cracked and answered. "D1, this is Starcom. Situation status received. Back up enroute."

Spike and Faith looked down the hallway. There were four doors on each side. They paused for a second to formulate a plan for searching when a voice called out from the apartment across the hall. "Hey! You lookin' for that asshole that was beatin' on her door? I was watching out my peeper and saw him go up the stairs but ain't never came back down. Do me a favor. Shoot the fucker, will ya? He fuckin' woke me up.""

Spike gave a firm nod to Faith and the four of them dashed up to the next floor, tossing a last minute, "Thanks buddy." as they passed.

They reached the top landing as the far off reassuring sound of what seemed to be a thousand sirens blasted from every direction. It brought a measure of comfort but at the same time Spike and Faith knew that the key was to stop him before anyone else died. A desperate criminal was capable of anything.

Spike grabbed Xander's hand and gave it a firm quick squeeze. When all this was over he planned on kicking some Xander arse for not staying safely behind.

The second floor was identical to the first. Same dirty, worn carpet. Same number of apartment doors. Same window at the far end of the hall. Same silence. Almost.

A crash and muffled shout signaled a scuffle. Splitting up into two groups they immediately began working their way down opposite sides of the hall till Faith, with her ear pressed against the door to apartment 204, signaled that she had located the source.

Wasting no more time on finesse or citizen's rights, Spike banged his fist on the door at the same instant that the hallway was flooded by uniformed cops, guns drawn rushing forward from both ends of the corridor.

"Stark County Sheriff. Open the door! Open it NOW!"


Spike took a wild, unsanctioned and totally against the book chance. His gut told him a negotiator would be a waste of time and a standing by waiting for the arrival of the SWAT team would cost precious minutes. Time the hostage couldn't afford. If it was Elvin Masters or not, that wasn't important. It was a serial killer and one more body wouldn't matter to him.

If he was wrong. If this cost someone else their life, could he possibly feel any worse than he did right now?

With a wave of his hands and a point of his gun the shock of energy surged through every person standing on the outside of apartment 204. Spike glanced down at the Doc Martin that was still stained with his friends blood and he made the decision.

Standing back with six armed officers flanking each side of him, Spike lifted his leg and knowing he wouldn't get a second chance at surprise, he slammed his boot against the thankfully cheap door, splintering it off it's hinges.

Part Forty-Four

The next few minutes were a chaotic nightmare. With his gun held firmly in his right hand, Spike shoved Xander in the chest, knocking him aside to the floor in the hall and he rushed forward. Faith and Kennedy were directly behind him and the flood of blue and black uniforms swamped the room.

The sight that greeted him was exactly what Spike had expected and prayed against. Elvin stood in the center of a ransacked room of disorder, his victim was pressed tightly against his thick, hulking body. His face was beat red. His hair stood up in wild clumps as if he had repeatedly run his hands through it tugging and pulling in frustration. His eyes were impossibly wide, wild and glassy. Spike was surprised Elvin hadn't had a stroke.

His victim, his hostage was an elderly, very small, grey haired lady, who, thankfully appeared to be the calmest person in the room. Elvin had one hand gripping the hair on her forehead jerking her head back and the other held a knife to her throat. Spike's stomach churned with the flash of de ja vu that spilled into his brain. It was that night in the dark all over again. His errors had nearly caused Faith her life. He wouldn't make any mistakes this time.

Everyone else was screaming at once.






Counting on the blur of confusion to act as a smoke screen, Spike took one step closer with each shouting order. Elvin's attention darted erratically from one roaring officer to the next. When Spike was within reach, Faith tapped Kennedy's arm sending her a signal she prayed her lover would read.

Kennedy eased up and gently held out her hand, keeping her tone soft and quiet. She wore an expression of love and compassion. She was his sweet Rosebud, reaching out to him. "Elvin. Please, don't."

For one blink of time, Elvin hesitated. In that second, as the blade of the knife drifted a millimeter back, the elderly victim reached behind her and grabbed a handful of balls. Her tiny blue veined fingers twisted and jerked them further from his body than any of the male officers in the room would have thought physically possible.


Elvin released his victim and doubled over. Spike pounced. Faith pulled the gutsy little lady from the room and the other officers rushed over to help subdue the killer.

Elvin was furious. He had been betrayed one last time and he exploded in Spike's arms with the strength of five men. Flipping them over, Elvin was now on top, straddling the detective. The knife came up and plunged down with the speed of a flash of lightning.

Spike had never played American football but he knew this must be what the pigskin felt like on the 20 yard line. All the air in his lungs expelled with a "whoof!" as Spike felt the weight of ten men as they fell on him, tackling the killer and jerking him to the floor.

Next to his ear,Spike heard the sound of bone snapping as Elvin's arm broke in the tussle for the knife and he caught sight of the small delicate rose bud that tumbled from his pocket..

It wasn't until Xander fell to his knees at his side that Spike realized he had been stabbed. The knife had found it's target and Elvin had one last victim. Spike's horrified eyes went from the sight of the spreading red stain on his white shirt to the face of his lover.

Relief washed through him when he saw Xander smile and felt his warm hand brush the hair off Spike's forehead. "Shhh. Just lay still. The guys have Elvin cuffed and are taking him out. EMTs will be here in a second. It's all over Spike. We got him."

Spike winced. "I thought you said the killer only got one more victim. Looks like just this once you were wrong."

Xander sadly shook his head and corrected his lover. "Nope, I said one more innocent person would die. I knew you would
be hurt, but I was afraid if I told you it would affect how you reacted. I'm sorry to say that as much as I love you I had to let this happen in order for you to stop him."

Spike snorted. "'So.k. I can live with that. I will live with this won't I?" He nodded toward his side as the pain finally started to register. "Fuck! How bad is it?'

Xander eased open the shirt, pealing the wet fabric away from Spike's body as he flinched. "Seems to be a flesh wound. I don't think it hit any vital organs. Can't be too serious. I already see us living a long and happy life together."

Spike laid back, letting is body go limp just as the paramedics rushed in and, carefully as they could, lifted him onto the stretcher. Turning his head to the left, he saw Faith marching around, taking charge of the crime scene and tossing orders like a drill Sergeant. Spike grinned and knew she had everything under control. Immediately Spike was whisked downstairs, Xander glued to his side, to one of the waiting ambulances.

Sadly he watched as the black plastic body bag was being taken out of the back of the other one and he could see the repeated flash of the camera he knew was taking pictures of his friend, Detective Fred Cooper.

Both ends of the city block had been cordoned off and the press and public lined the sides of the yellow tape barricades.

The back door of the ambulance was opened and Spike's gurney slid in. Xander ducked his head, but was stopped before
he could follow. "Hold it, Partner. No ride alongs. You're gonna hafta find your own way to the hospital."

Spike reached out for Xander's hand. He was through hiding. His life had been spared and from today on, it would be different.
He stared daggers through the young EMT with the name tag that read 'Riley.' "See here, PARTNER. Xander's my boyfriend. Where I go he goes. You don't like that? Then unstrap me and I'll drive myself to hospital." Just to emphasize his point he painfully wiggled in the restraints.

Riley shrugged. It frankly didn't matter to him one way or the other. For liability purposes he was required to say that but if they insisted he still went home at the end of his shift and fucked his girlfriend. He smiled at Xander and waved him on in. The doors slammed and the siren screamed their exit.

Part Forty-Five

Screeching and sliding into the area of the street that was now vacated, three separate vehicles all simultaneously stopped and the occupants jumped out.

Rushing over to the mobile cam and her cameraman Max, Buffy grabbed the wireless microphone  "This is it. This is the big one. I'll find Angel and you get everything ready to go."

Not waiting for Max's answer she turned and darted toward the area of the most activity. After speaking to one of the officers on point, she heard Dawn's name and thanked the God Of Lucky Breaks. Playing the worried sister card, she was allowed in.

Max remained by the van, adjusting the camera and preparing for the set up. He had every confidence that Buffy would come up with something to report, unfortunately knowing her it would probably be a story on the fact that the certificate of safety had expired in the elevator. Luckily he had a lot of experience in leading her toward the facts, telling her what to say, and convincing her it was all her idea.

The driver of the third car approached the van nearly on a run. Max saw the man coming and rolled his eyes.  "Max. Hi. Hey, I haven't heard from you for a while. Weren't you gonna call me? Did you lose my number? I can give it to you again."

"Oh, Angel, yeah, I've just been really busy but we'll get together soon. I promise. Hey, Buffy's over there. Shouldn't you be, um, detecting?  I think they got the killer and we're about to go live with the story. Why don't you go catch up with her?"

Angel stood by Max. He was frantic to find a way to impress and win over the cameraman who had claimed his heart and thrilled his cock. He knew he had made a deal with Buffy and this was it. This was the case that could earn everything. All he had to do was rush over there and she would put him in the center of the picture. Make it look like he was the hero of the day.

He would get the promotion, the big money, the fame and the blond television reporter sleeping at his side. Angel sighed and let his eyes squirm up Max's body and then slither back down. To be honest, Angel had thought Lead Investigator was what he wanted most in life. He had schemed and wheedled, he had lied, cried, and blackmailed, but now, now he knew what he really wanted.


He wanted Max so bad it made his teeth itch.

He watched as Buffy teetered quickly toward the hub of activity, wobbling in those ridiculous shoes she insisted on wearing even while they had sex. Fuckin' near put an eye out more than once. Still, she had a nice pussy. Damp, enthusiastic, available.

Then there was Spike. Ooo. Spike was tasty. Hard, tight, in more ways than one, and convenient. If it weren't for his love of the job and the department he would have chosen Spike over Buffy any day. But not now. Now it was all Max.

He watched as she spoke to one of the perimeter officers and knew she was probably looking for him. Suddenly, in a light bulb over the head moment, an idea came to him. It was an idea so brilliant that it startled even him.

"Ak! Angel, what the fuck?"

Grabbing a handful of Max's shirt he dragged the cameraman, equipment and all, and dashed straight for the doorway Buffy had just talked her way through. He cornered the guarding officer and the three of them huddled up.

Inside, Faith had organized, coordinated and controlled the crime scene so effectively she was confident that she could put it on auto pilot for the short amount of time it would take to tie up some loose ends. The first was a terrified young woman and she hurried down stairs. "Miss Summers? Dawn? It's Detective Faith, Honey. It's all over. We caught him and everything's all right now. Can you open the door for me?  I promise you, it's safe."

Faith stood back while the locks clicked and the door eased open. The wide eyed face peered out and upon seeing only the smiling woman, Dawn flung it open and threw herself sobbing into Faith's arms.

"It' o.k. Dawn, it's all over. It's all over."

Dawn held on tightly till, still crying, she felt herself torn form the soft, gentle arms of the lady detective.

"Dawn! Oh my God are you all right? I couldn't believe it when they told me you were involved. I mean it's terrible, of course, but I'm here now. I'll take care of you. Thank you, Detective. I'm Buffy Summers, star reporter, Channel 8 News, sister of the sobbing female." Buffy clutched her sister against her chest as she waved her hands in Faith's direction, dismissing her unquestioningly.

Faith frowned and hesitated before leaving. She really didn't want to mention Fred Cooper right now. Not while Dawn was still so upset. Not while Buffy was looking for sensationalism.

"Fine, but we will really need her to come down to the station and give us a complete report. Around eight in the morning will be soon enough."

Buffy nodded and hustled Dawn back inside, slamming the door in Faith's face. "Hurry up. Change your clothes. I'm gonna interview you for the news break. It will be unfucking believable. One Summers girl interviewing the prime witness, her very own sister who just happens to be embroiled in the center of this you still have that bright red sweater with the little dogs on it? You know the one. It makes you look so virginal. Anyway where was I?"

Dawn sniffled and rubbed her hands over her face. She was still shaken at the stalker who had tried to assault her. She was also confused. Where was Detective Cooper and why were there so many cars and cops around for just one guy? "You were talking about interviews and sweaters. Damn it Buffy. Just what the hell is going on here?"

Buffy grabbed Dawn by the hand and dragged her into the bedroom. She tossed a hair brush at her sister and started rummaging through her closet. "Oh, the guy that was stalking you was a serial killer. They caught him upstairs. Now, we have to hurry before the other stations get here. Quick, quick, Max is setting up outside. Don't wash your face. I want you to look very upset and a bit teary eyed. Hurry up, change your clothes and let's go. Why the fuck are you just standing there?"

"Serial Killer?!?"

Dawn was ready in four minutes. Buffy took ten more once she discovered the cream colored silk blouse in her sister's closet. It fit perfectly, but then required a change in hairstyle.

By the time the girls got downstairs, Buffy was in for the professional shock of her life. The biggest scoop of the century, the one that Buffy was certain would make an instant star of the reporter who broke it was now on air, live and being expertly handled by one Max Webster.

Max had shown the beat cop how to handle the camera and the boy seemed to be a natural. It then freed Max up to interview an obviously lovestruck Detective Liam O'Connor. The fact that Angel didn't have a clue never even slowed him down. After the story aired, the station had gone on to announce proudly that Max Webster was now the lead anchor for the evening news.

By the next morning a certain Buffy Summers was on air in front of a blank green screen describing a fast approaching cold front and the possibility of rain for the next week end. Viewers who called in had to admit she looked sharp on camera. Not many weather girls could wear heels that high.


Spike stretched, he loved the feeling of the hot dry Nevada sun as it baked his naked skin. Reaching for the sun block SPF 30
he squirted and languidly smeared it over his chest and stomach allowing his fingers to lightly ghost over the tight, puckered scar
on his left side.

Its still sore tender, bruise like feel reminded him that it had only been two months since that night of incredible highs and tragic lows. A night that changed all their lives forever.

Adjusting his sun glasses he turned his head and smiled at the similarly nude man sleeping on their private sun deck beside him. He decided to give him another fifteen minutes then wake him. He didn't want that luscious body burned and uncomfortable when Spike rode him like a cowboy on Brokeback Mountain. Spike grinned.

Xander. The love of his life that just a few weeks ago, he hadn't even met, yet hadn't left his side since his injury. Xander had stayed with him, sleeping in a chair in the hospital. He was the last person Spike had seen going into surgery and the first one waiting with kisses when he woke up. They had spent the ten days of his confinement there talking, relaxing, and getting to know each other on a level beyond cop and psychic.

Pain wise the first morning had been the worse. Thankfully, Xander had been at his side ready willing and able to kiss and cuddle away any discomfort. Sometimes even the imaginary ones. The nurses had taken to knocking before entering.

By the third day Spike's brain was clearer and Faith had stopped by. The two worked on their reports together till Xander finally kicked her out so Spike could sleep. Giles had called on day four. He said the case was tight. They had everything they needed and the Prosecutor was talking death penalty.

On day six Xander had climbed on the bed beside Spike and gently held him in his arms as the detective cried for the senseless loss of his friend and colleague. Fred Cooper's funeral had been that morning.

Spike had gotten out of the hospital on a Saturday. Xander had tried to coax him to go straight home, but Spike had other ideas.
He had missed the funeral of his friend, but Spike knew Sue and the girls were still in town and he needed to see them. He needed to apologize.

Arriving at the hotel just as she was checking out, both men were surprised to see that she was not alone. All the time Fred was
planning a reconciliation, Sue had moved on with her life. She had still loved him but her future was elsewhere. Xander held Spike's hand and told him not to be angry. Fred was happy that she and the girls were taken care of and Fred thought Bill was a good man

Spike had just nodded. If Xander said it, Spike believed it.

Spike had moved in with Xander the day he left the hospital and never left. He was shocked the first night when they climbed into the beautifully carved bed together. He remembered Xander telling him that it was a gift from a man to his sweetheart.
Xander had known all along they would be sharing it.

Spike rolled over on his stomach and sighed. Giles had insisted he take a vacation and Xander had offered to make all the arrangements. So here they were lying on a balcony outside their suite at the Blue Moon Gay Resort in Las Vegas.

Spike was out. Rainbow out. He was out at home. He was out at work. Surprisingly, the news was taken very well, of course the fact that Faith, Kennedy and Angel were also announcing their outness had softened the blow and caused more than one member of the force to stop drinking the water.

Reaching over he ran his hand down the hot, smooth skin. He loved the feel of the wiry hair on Xander's chest and the way it tapered off to a fine fluff just before reaching his thick, heavy cock. He decided Xander's fifteen minutes was up. "Xan. Xan, love, wake up. Getting a tad too pink, Pet."

Startled, Xander reared up, nearly toppling out of the webbed lawn lounger. He looked around and down, poolside, at all the other naked men lying like sausages in a butchers window, touching and being touched. "Oh, hell. Sorry. Guess I forgot where we were for a minute there. Shit, Spike, how long was I asleep?"

Spike eased out of his chair and over to where Xander now sat. Lowering himself, Spike placed his hands on Xander's knees and he settled on the floor between his lover's spread legs, pushing them further apart. His eyes were focused on the huge heavy cock that lay half hard on the seat. "Not long. Maybe an hour or so."

Leaning forward, Spike lapped his tongue in little kitten licks at the puffy head and smiled at each twitch. Xander placed his hands on the chair behind him and leaned back watching as his cock grew thicker and jutted out expectantly. The muscles in Xander's back and arms strained and flexed as they supported him. "Oh, man, what a great way to wake up." He watched Spike's pink tongue dart out in a cool teasing torture. "Come on, Baby, suck me."

Leaning forward Spike rested his forehead on Xander's belly. He breathed in deeply smelling sweat, male musk and suntan oil.
The perfect holiday scent. Tipping his head sideways Spike wrapped his lips around the fully erect cock and sucked and tongued his way up and then slowly back down. Pulling and nipping at the wrinkled, rubbery cock flesh.

Xander's eyes rolled up and he grunted his approval. Spike knew he could not hold this position long without his body cramping and his wound aching so he used every trick and technique he knew to bring pleasure to his young wood carver. Sliding his hand up the inside of Xander's thigh, Spike coated his palm with as much excess coconut oil as he could. Xander's cock was so thick and fat it was hard to fit it all in, though, God knows, Spike had tried.

Wrapping his lips around the head that now bubbled with the first clear drop of salty heaven, Spike set a steady rhythm of sucking the mushroom top as his hand stroked the throbbing shaft.

Xander's hips canted and tipped with each down stroke. Each pull up tugged his sac just enough to roll his balls and increase the tingling urge to shove his cock into it's home in Spike's body.

Bending down, Xander reached around the man whose face was still snuffling in his crotch. Wetting his finger with saliva, Xander pulled Spike's cheeks apart. "Let me get some of that. Come on Baby, let me feel that sweet hole."

Spike arched his body, raising his ass like a cat in heat. Xander's thumb slipped in easily and wiggled. Spike used his other slicked, oiled hand on himself. Using both hands, his mouth and humping back on Xander's fingers only proved how well Detective Pratt could multi-task.

As both men strained, lost in their own passion, all four legs widened and they moaned, hardened and within seconds ejaculated.
The cum that he had not swallowed was now lazily smeared all over Spike's face by Xander who held his cock like a paintbrush.

Turning, Spike stretched his legs out and sat comfortably on the floor between Xander's feet. Using his shirt he lazily wiped his face clean. "Say, Xan, Love. Something has been bothering me. You said my grandfather was always with me. He isn't here when we.......... you know."

Xander ran his fingers through the blond hair that was leaning against his belly. "Oh, no, of course not. He goes off on his own and leaves us alone then comes back later."

He felt Spike relax and smile against his skin and knew the answer satisfied him. When he was certain Spike couldn't see, he looked off to his lovers left, and winked.

The End

Leave Feedback on LJ

Back Index

Read the Sequel

Feed the Author

Visit the Author's Livejournal

Home Categories New Stories Non Spander