Day One:
Buffy could hear the sirens approaching, she didn’t know who’d called them, having the police called was not something she was used to. In Sunneydale no one called the police, she wasn’t even sure if the police had a phone, but here in Boston things were obviously very different. Damn. Buffy reached down and nudged Spike again.
“Get up you ass!” She hissed at him, “We do not have time for this.”
Buffy and Spike had been in Boston tracking the head of a breakaway sect of the Clan Aruelius who had been responsible for the mass murders of a number of church congregations. She and Spike had just received information that the group was in a motel just outside Boston when Spike had been attacked. A number of vampires had jumped them on their way from a pub to their hotel. They thought they had managed to stake their attackers, but one had been ducking behind a post box, he had jumped out at Spike and pushed him out into the street just as a car was speeding past. The resulting crash had left Spike unconscious and the vampire who’d done the pushing a pile of dust decorating the ground at Buffy’s feet.
Now Spike was laying there looking, and unfortunately acting, like a corpse, the driver of the car who’d hit him was pacing back and forth in tears, and Buffy was trying to wake the vampire up before the police arrived. She knew she could have just up and carried him back to the hotel, it wasn’t far and he was nowhere near to heavy for her to lift, but with all the witnesses there was no way she could get away without someone giving the police an adequate description, and she had a nagging feeling that the police here were more adept than the ones in Sunneydale.
Buffy was just about to nudge him again when she heard a woman’s voice behind her.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step away from the body.”
Buffy turned to see a woman with long dark hair, tan skin, and dark eyes. “He’s not a body,” she said, sniffling and trying to work up fake tears, “He’s my boyfriend.”
The woman smiled sadly, “I’m very sorry ma’am, but I need to secure the scene. If you’ll just wait on the side walk I’ll be over in a minute.”
Buffy nodded and backed off; trying everything she could to work up tears. Dead puppy, dead puppy, dead friends, dead Dawn, dead Giles, more dead Spike, dead puppy. The tears would have worked if she didn’t know that while the woman examining Spike’s body checked his pulse, he’d probably be coming around and give her the scare of her life. The thought of the woman’s face when Spike came to yelling and cursing was threatening to make her laugh. As she watched the woman check over Spike’s body, then take pictures to document the scene, and finally as the men wearing coroner’s jumpsuits put his body on a stretcher and cover him in a white sheet, Buffy realised he wasn’t getting up. Crap. She knew he wasn’t dead, a mere car crash wasn’t enough to take him out, but his healing should have kicked in by now, obviously he was hurt worse than she’d thought. Buffy stood on the sidewalk, by the post box the vampire had been hiding behind.
The woman who had examined Spike walked over and offered her hand, “I’m Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh, and I’m with the Boston Medical Examiners office. Would you mind if I asked you about what happened?”
Buffy nodded and sniffled again for effect, “Of course.”
The woman, Dr. Cavanaugh, smiled again, “How did your boyfriend end up in the street? Did he trip?”
Buffy nodded, “He was a little drunk, he ran into the post box and stumbled, I tried to catch him, but…”
“It’s just that the driver said he was pushed,” Dr. Cavanaugh said.
Buffy squirmed a little, “Maybe she thought I was pushing him when I was trying to catch him?”
Dr. Cavanaugh tilted her head a little, “The driver said it was a man who pushed your boyfriend.”
“Maybe I didn’t see him, he could have been behind the post box, I wasn’t really paying attention to the world around me. Spike was like that, he sort of made the whole world sit up and pay attention to him.”
The doctor’s eyebrow shot up, “Spike?”
A small smile appeared on Buffy’s face, “His nickname, we were in a band together, that’s how we met, he sang, I played the drums. I remember when he told my mom, ‘She’s hell on the old skins’ he said, not what my mom wanted to hear, but she came around eventually.”
Dr. Cavanaugh smiled, “It sounds like he was a real character.”
Buffy nodded, the tears finally co-operating with her, “He is. Was.”
The doctor reached in to her coat and pulled out a card, “This has the address of the Medical Examiner’s office on it. We have an excellent grief counselor you can talk to, Lily’s a wonderful listener.”
Buffy accepted the card and thanked the doctor, hoping that the grief counselor and Spike would be in the same building. When Dr. Cavanaugh, left the police walked over and took her name and address and then let her go. She hurried back to the hotel and her and Spike’s room. Curling up in the standard hotel bed she buried her face in the sheets and laughed herself to tears. Spike was going to be so mad when he woke up. She hoped he didn’t come to in one of the drawers; his claustrophobia had been getting worse since her death. She sometimes wondered if his insane-o Spike logic somehow connected his feelings of guilt to his worsening claustrophobia. Closing her eyes, Buffy tried to get to sleep.

Day Two:
At two the next morning Spike’s eyes flew open only to be confronted with the dark. He blinked his eyes a few times then tried to bring his hands up to feel his face, only to be confronted with hard metal walls. Putting his hands back down he tried again, only with more force. Failing again he put his hands down and cursed when he felt the bruises form. Obviously he was stuck, and now Buffy would laugh at him as soon as he tried to explain his bruised palms. Shit. So, he was in a metal box, and as he calmed down he noticed two more important facts. He was butt naked and covered in a sheet. Naked, covered in a sheet, which he now imagined was white, and in a metal box, nope make that drawer, things made sense now, he was in a morgue. Fuck. A morgue which Buffy and her pals had no practice breaking in and out of. Double Fuck. He was locked in a drawer, on the opposite side of the country as his lock pick supplies, and he had no idea when Buffy would be coming to spring him. The day was already shaping up to be a winner. “BUFFY!” Note to self, metal drawers retain sound and do not make it any quieter, ouch.
***
Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh walked in to the Boston medical examiners office at thirty-five minutes after eight, five minutes late. Her boss, Dr. Garret Macy, was there waiting for her.
“What’s the story on the car wreck?” He asked as they started walking through the office.
“According to the girlfriend, he was walking down the sidewalk, had an unfortunate collision with a post box and she just missed grabbing him before he wound up decorating the front end of a Ford Excursion.”
Dr. Macy’s eyebrow shot up, “An Excursion?”
Jordan grimaced, “Yeah, the guy didn’t stand a chance; an elephant wouldn’t stand a chance. The strange thing was that the driver was more broken up than she was, I gave her Lily’s card, so she may be in sometime today if you want to talk to her.”
Dr. Macy nodded, “Any reason not to just release the body?”
“Discrepancies in witness testimony?”
“Big discrepancies?” Dr. Macy asked with a growing sense of trepidation.
Jordan shrugged, “She says ‘tripped,’ they say ‘pushed.’”
“Are witnesses saying that she pushed him?”
Jordan shook her head, “That’s the other thing, witnesses’re saying it was an unidentified third party.”
“Is she protecting someone?” Dr. Macy asked.
Jordan shrugged, “It’s possible, the girlfriend didn’t look really worked up, she just seemed to take it in stride.”
Dr. Macy nodded “Are you planning to do an autopsy?”
“No reason right now. I’ll do a blood-alcohol test; make sure he wasn’t just smashed.”
Pushing his office door open, Dr. Macy turned back to Jordan, “Don’t push the girlfriend any harder than you have to. Remember, we all grieve in our own way.”
Jordan smiled at her boss’ retreating back, “Yes mom.”
Not waiting for Dr. Macy’s rejoinder, Jordan walked the rest of the way to the labs whistling some inane tune.
“Practicing for Pop Idol, luv?”
Jordan whipped around in surprise, “Pop Idol?”
The dark haired Brit smiled, “Well, we’re not all American, than are we?”
“No, of course not, Nigel,” Jordan said following the eccentric doctor into his lab, “How’s your coffee database going?”
Nigel pulled a thick binder from the shelf, “I’ve got every domestic catalogued, it’s the foreign brews that are going to be the trick though.”
Jordan nodded watching her friend walk around his lab, booting up the computers and turning on the lights. “Is it odd to you that a the driver in an accidental death would be more broken up than the girlfriend of the deceased?”
“Of course.”
“I thought so.”
Nigel turned his head only a degree as he logged on to his computer, “Any reason you’re questioning true love?”
Jordan picked up the Coffee book, “New case.”
“Ah,” Nigel said with a sage-like voice, “And the intrepid detective smells foul play?”
Jordan shrugged, “Maybe.”
***
As Buffy walked up the street between old brick buildings she marveled at the difference in the older architecture of Boston and the newer styles in Sunneydale. Internally she could admit that all the brick was making her slightly nervous, growing up in a newer town in the earthquake state meant that most of the houses and buildings she was accustomed to were made of more resilient materials. Looking down at the business card the medical examiner had given her he night before then back up at the multi-level buildings, Buffy found the one that contained, among other things, the Office of the Boston Medical Examiner. She smiled at the fact that for the first time in her many visits to a morgue she wouldn’t be using the tried and true B&E key for entry.
Walking out of the elevator on the third floor Buffy could see right away another difference between Sunneydale and Boston, where the Sunneydale morgue was sterile and medical looking, the Boston morgue was sunny and decorated with wood and frosted glass accenting. It made the place seem more like a pediatricians office than somewhere where autopsies were performed on a regular basis. Wandering up to the receptionists desk, Buffy tried again to work up some tears. “Hi,” She said, in what she hoped was the voice of a devastated girlfriend, “I’m Buffy Summers, my boyfriend, Spike, uh…William Blutig, was brought in last night. A woman gave me her card, Dr. Cavanaugh, she said I should come in and talk to someone named Lily.”
The elderly woman behind the desk affected a much put apon smile, “That’s nice dear, why don’t you have a seat, I’ll let Ms. Lebowski know you’re here.”
Walking over to the comfortable looking seats, Buffy shook her head, what kind of person says ‘that’s nice dear’ when they hear your boyfriend is dead? Then again, she thought wryly, what kind of person works as a receptionist at the morgue, the job must attract a special kind of individual. Putting her feet up on the coffee table, Buffy closed her eyes and prayed that Spike was none the worse for wear when she finally found him. She knew he was going to be pissed as hell, but she hoped he wouldn’t take it out on the first person he saw. Wrapped up in her thoughts of the bleach blond vampire, the slayer didn’t notice the kind-faced brunette standing over her say her name. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Buffy was roused from her daydreams.
“Hi,” the woman said, “Are you Buffy Summers?”
Buffy nodded, “Lily Lebowi-Lebowe-L?”
Lily smiled, “It’s Lebowski, people tend to add a vowel where they think one should be. You can call me Lily if it’s easier.”
Buffy took the woman’s proffered hand, “So you’re the grief counselor?”
“After a fashion.” Lily said. “The post isn’t official yet.”
“Oh.”
The two women walked in silence for a minute as Buffy followed the after-a-fashion counselor to her office. “So,” Lily said, after they’d both sat down in the comfortable room, “How are you feeling.”
“About as well as can be expected,” Buffy said, trying her dead puppy tear-mantra again in hopes of a least a little puffiness. “I guess it just hasn’t sunk in yet. Spike, William and I were only together for a little while, but I really love, loved, him.”
***
Jordan walked past Lily’s office and heard the woman talking to the girlfriend from the previous night. Making a mental note to talk to Lily about her opinions of the woman later, Jordan walked to the elevator that led to the freezers in the basement. Just before she was able to get in however, her beeper went off. She held the offending device up to eye level, and seeing a dispatch notice, went back to her lab, grabbed her equipment bag, and, unwittingly, left Spike trapped in his basement drawer.
***
After two of the most excruciating hours of her life, Buffy smiled at Lily as the counselor lead her back out to the reception area. “Are you sure you don’t need me to identify the body?” She asked.
The brunette shook her head, “What with you having been at the site of the accident and still working through the very beginnings of the grief progress, I don’t think it’ll be necessary.”
Listening to Lily, Buffy clenched her teeth. Coming in she hadn’t noticed any holes in security, and she wasn’t seeing any on her way out, plus, she didn't even know where to find the vampire. She really hoped that when she finally was able to spring him from this unintentional prison, he didn’t just kill her on principle. As Lily led her through the brightly lit hallways and out to the exit Buffy found herself wondering if she’d even be able to get Spike out in the next few days. Their plane left at the end of the we-
“Hey, pet!
Buffy spun around, “Spike!” She yelped, relieved that he’d somehow managed to free himself on his own. Finishing her rotation however, she found herself nose to chest with a body that was most certainly not her boyfriend’s. A body with dark hair, a slightly receding hair line, and an odd look on its face.
Lily rested a hand on her shoulder in what, Buffy assumed, was meant to be a comforting gesture. “Buffy,” She said in a kind tone, “This is Dr. Nigel Townsend, one of our forensics experts. And this,” she continued, gesturing to the Indian man standing next to him, “Is Dr. Mahesh Vijayaraghavensatyanaryanamurthy,” The complicated name rolling off her tongue, “our entomologist.”
Buffy tried to be as polite as she could while inwardly kicking herself for her stupidity, “I’m really sorry about that, it’s just your accent is so much like my boyfriend Spike’s. Or like it did, or what ever I’m supposed to say now. It was nice to meet you Dr. Townsend, Dr. Vjaragstnamurthy.”
The Indian man’s mouth quirked as Buffy stumbled over his name, “Just call me ’Bugs’,” he said with the voice of someone who’d been over this topic more times than he ever wanted “It is a bit easier.”
Buffy smiled back, “Alright then, it’s good to meet you, Bugs.”
After the two men walked away Lily pulled a note pad from her back pocket. “If you’d like,” She said almost timidly, “I’ve got time if you want to talk again tomorrow, it seems like you need to.”
Doing the Scooby dance in her head, Buffy nodded, “I think you’re right.”
***
One little, two little, three little bags of blood, four little, five little, six little bags of blood, seven little, eight little, nine little bags of blood, ten little bags of yucky cow’s blood.
After eight hours of lying still, Spike was getting very antsy. No one had come down to open the drawer; no one had even come down just to say hi to the dead people. Any more time spent doing nothing and he was afraid he’d start thinking linearly, logically, boringly.
Ten little, nine little, eight little bags of blood…
He was getting a little hungry too.

Day Three:
Spike wiggled his big toe. There wasn’t much more he could do, so he wiggled it again. Then he scrunched his nose. After he’d felt the sun set and rise for a second time while not actually being able to see it, Spike had come to a conclusion, he was doomed to hell. He knew it was coming, he’d felt death nipping at his heels for too long. Too many things were going for him, and now he was dead, obviously dusted by the car that had hit him. His only regret was not bidding Buffy farewell. He was trapped, forever forced to lie still in a compartment of hell. Oh woe, oh alas, oh fuck he needed something to do!
***
Buffy woke bright and early Wensday morning, ready to go forth and rescue her boyfriend from what must be absolute hell. She knew she could do it; she’d pulled people from all sorts of spots, hell, she’d been on the receiving end of the pulling too. All she had to do was find him. The counselor from the Medical Examiners office had mentioned coming back today so that’s what she’d do. Go back, find him, then they’d do their superhero thing and get back to the fun of their little vacation. Fun… Spike… Mmmm… Huh? What? No, spring Spike, rescue the world, all starting now. Buffy pushed herself out of bed and took off for the shower.
***
Jordan walked into work two minutes early, neatly missing Dr. Macy’s morning pep-talk, and went straight to the main lab. Pulling out her lab coat, she caught the elevator down to the lockers and ran smack in to Bug.
“Morning Jordan, you’re early.” The young Indian man said in his cultured British accent. “New cases come in last night?”
“Same one as yesterday, the car crash. The girlfriend stopped by yesterday and Lily thinks it’d be good for her to identify the body today so I’m going to get the blood tests out of the way before she gets here.”
Bug led the way out of the elevator and towards the freezer, “You don’t think she’s going to tamper with the body?”
Jordan shrugged, “I ran her name by Woody and he came up with a sheet as long as your arm, and that’s not including her sealed Juvenile record. Arson, breaking and entering, theft, she’s done it all, forty-three times she’s been put under suspicion, no arrests though. And our dead guy, the good Mr. Blutig didn’t exist three years ago. No records of a William Blutig exist from before November thirteenth, two-thousand and one.”
“So you think what, they were some kind of Bonnie and Clyde outfit and she got sick of sharing?”
Jordan smirked, “It’s a possibility, of course there could be a perfectly good explanation for the whole deal, but I doubt it.”
Bug ran his eyes over the labels of the drawers, “What’s his number?”
Jordan looked down at her folder, “M03101997.” She ran her hand down the drawers until she found the one she was looking for, “And here we are, Mr. William Blutig.” Grabbing the handle she twisted the lock, opened the door, and rolled the drawer and its contents out.
***
One Hour Earlier:
Spike closed his eyes, if he was doomed to hell, the least he could do was catch a nap.
***
Jordan pulled Spike’s drawer out and Spike with it. Lifting the sheet from his face she had to admit, that if nothing else his girlfriend had good taste; even in death the man was attractive. Dead, yes, but attractive. With Bug’s help, Jordan moved the body from its place in the locker to a gurney for transport upstairs. With the sheet replaced, Jordan didn’t notice the body’s eyes open at the jolt of being moved.
Spike was happily asleep when all the clack of metal on metal woke him. Opening his eyes he caught a flash of ceiling before the sheet was replaced over his eyes. Smiling he prepared to sit up and give whomever was moving him the scare of their life. Counting down from five gave Spike the chance to second guess himself, if he surprised the unsuspecting lackey and gave them a heart attack or something, Buffy would never forgive him. Ever. Goodbye Buffy, goodbye Dawn, goodbye… Well he could kiss his social life in general goodbye if he sat up. And he really enjoyed his place at the slayer’s side. So instead of sitting up a causing the accidental death of the morons who’d kept him locked up for the last twenty four plus hours Spike contented himself with singing My Way just quiet enough that any humans wouldn’t really be sure if they were hearing it or not.
Jordan stood at the side of the gurney on the elevator ride up; Bug had stayed behind to take care of whatever it was he was working on. All the way to her lab she hummed under her breath, “I did it my-y-y-y way-y-y-y.”
“’Never pegged you for a Pistols fan, pet.” Nigel’s voice came from behind her.
“The who?” Jordan said as she wandered around her lab getting everything together for the blood tests.
Nigel smirked, “Not the Who, the Sex Pistols. The song you were singing, it was My Way, wasn’t it?”
Spike found himself hard pressed not to laugh as he heard the new voice, obviously a man after his own un-beating heart.
Jordan turned to her friend, confusion lines marring her forehead, “I was singing?”
Nigel shrugged, “You must’ve heard it somewhere.” He reached over Spike’s body for the syringe needle. “What’re we doing with Billy Idol here? Y-incision, or just blood screens?”
Jordan grabbed the needle back, “Right now, just blood screens. An autopsy’ll depend on what his girlfriend has to say when she sees him later, she cries and he goes home, she giggles and he stays.”
Nigel’s eyebrow shot up into his receding hair line, “You really don’t trust this girl do you?”
Jordan raised a shoulder, “She just rubs me wrong, even Lily thought something was off, during counseling the girl didn’t cry once, and Lily said she tried some of her best tricks.”
As concentrated as they were on the task at hand, neither Nigel nor Jordan saw the smirk that creased across Spike’s face. His girl wasn’t gonna break, and nothing they could do would make her. Short of presenting her with his ashes, but he’d hold out hope that that wasn’t going to happen, though the talk of autopsy was making him rather nervous. Just a little while longer and Buffy would have him ou-OUCH! Oh FUCK! Oh FUCKING HELL! Spike’s eye’s shot open and before he could do anything about it he yelped in pain.
Jordan had just inserted the needle and was drawing the necessary fluid for the blood work when the corpse did something that corpses as a general rule didn’t do, it made a noise. Jordan and Nigel jumped back from the table.
“That was an automatic response, right?” Nigel asked with a nervous smile. “Completely natural, yeah?”
Jordan shrugged, “Well he sure as hell isn’t alive, he’s been in a freezer for two days.”
Nigel nodded, then leaned forward and checked Spike’s pulse, “Yeah, he’s dead.”
The two criminologists looked at eachother and shrugged then Jordan pulled the sheet back over Spikes face and went to the head space sampler to begin testing the blood sample for blood alcohol content.
***
Buffy walked back into the Medical Examiner’s office and went up to the evil receptionist. “Hi.” She said in the tone that she usually used when the vampires were getting to uppity, “I’m here to see Lily, if you could tell her Buffy was waiting, I’d sure appreciate it.”
The receptionist of doom graced the slayer a smile she’d only ever seen on a very special breed of snake demon. “Of course Betty, if you’ll just have a seat in the sitting area I’ll let Ms. Lebowski know you’re waiting. She should be out in just a moment.”
As Buffy went to sit in the chairs the receptionist had gestured to she noticed that the woman behind the desk did nothing more than turn back to her magazine. After waiting a moment to see if the receptionist would actually do anything, Buffy walked past her and towards where she remembered Lily’s office to be. Ignoring the administrative professional’s indignant sputtering Buffy turned the corner and ran smack in to the woman she was looking for.
“Buffy!” The other blond woman exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Yeah, your receptionist isn’t exactly a nice person, she sorta just ignored me. Anyway, I had a revelation last night and I was hoping your offer to talk was still standing.”
Lily smiled at Buffy and gestured to an office at Buffy’s right, “Of course, come in, and have a seat. What is it that you wanted to talk about?”
Buffy sat in the beige and cream of Lily’s office and took a deep breath. “I think I know why I haven’t been able to cry. This isn’t the first time Spike died, one of his ex-girlfriends tried to kill him back home, he was dead for a few seconds, but he came back, I guess I just keep expecting him to jump off the table and laugh at the mess he caused. He was like that, had a very macabre sense of humor.”
Lily nodded along with Buffy’s story, considering whether or not she believed her. “Do you think it would help if you saw his body in person? We usually do identifications by photograph, but if you think it’ll help you accept his death I can arrange a live ID.”
Buffy tried her best watery smile, “Do you really think you could do that? I really think that just seeing him one last time, getting to say goodbye would really help.”
Lily reached for her phone, “Let me just call Jordan and let her know, then we can go down and see him.”
***
Buffy walked into the lab and finally saw Spike. Lily had told her that she would have as much time as she needed and when she was done they would be able to talk again. Now that she had him alone, Buffy wasn’t quite sure what to do, “Spike?” She said as quietly as she could, “You okay?” When he didn’t answer she got a little closer. “Spike?” This time she saw his finger crick towards her, so she laid her head down on his chest in order to block the view of his mouth from the people watching through the lab windows.
“You are dead.”
When she heard his voice Buffy face broke into a wide smile, “Are you okay?”
Spike smiled back, “I’ve been locked in a cabinet, in a freezer, naked for the last few days, and now that my girls finally come for me I’ve got to get her to move before I do another thing corpses aren’t supposed to do.”
Buffy smirked, but backed off, “I think I’ll be able to get you out tonight. I’ve got this place mapped out pretty well, and when I was coming down this morning I saw an entrance that isn’t guarded as well as the rest.”
Spike gave a deep sigh of relief, “So tonight my torture ends?”
Buffy nodded, “Get all your stuff together and be ready to be busted out sometime after midnight.”
“Yeah, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about me being hard to find, I’ll be in the freezer. And I’m not going anywhere either.”
***
Jordan watched as the blond California girl left the office, then turned back to the results of the blood tests.
“Nigel, I think we have a problem.
“Oh?”
“That guys blood, it came back a little weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Weird Bovine.”
“Huh.”

Day Four:
Spike lay back in his tomb of a drawer. He’d spent the time after Buffy left listening to Jordan and Nigel debate his blood type. It would have been funny if they hadn’t kept stabbing him with their needle to extract more blood for testing. As they put him back in the drawer he was beginning to call home, Spike heard them discussing the autopsy they had scheduled for him the next day. They would be having words if Buffy didn’t get him out of here tonight.
Buffy stood in the hotel room that she and Spike had been sharing until the accident, looking around she checked for anything she could be forgetting before piling everything on the cart to take down to the cab. She figured it’d be best to move away from the address she’d given the Medical Examiners and with their Randy and Joan identities in place, the police would hopefully have a hard time tracking them. With her and Spike’s luggage, Buffy left the hotel for a small bed and breakfast just outside of the city limits. Getting from the ME’s to their new home would be a pain, but Buffy had noticed a subway station entrance not even a whole block from the ME’s office so their getaway would hopefully be smooth. When the taxi dropped her off at the large house, Buffy quickly unloaded their luggage and started digging out what would have to serve as inner-city slay-wear. Pulling out black slacks, a black sweater, and a black leather jacket similar to the one Spike wore every night, the slayer prepared herself for battle. In a black handbag she put what had become known as her Bat Belt, an assortment of items, like fishing wire, hair spray, and a pocket pc, that had become necessary as vampires finally latched onto the digital revolution. The bag, it’s contents, and it’s unfortunate name had all been gifts from Xander, whose contracting business had taken off after the completion of the new Sunneydale high. Just before she walked back out into the night, Buffy pulled her light hair into a tight bun then donned her least favorite piece of equipment, a dark brown wig that, in her opinion, made her look too much like the evil vamp ho of doom that Spike had once dated. Pulling a black watch cap over her ears Buffy headed out to catch the last ferry to downtown Boston, which she did, after running back to the B&B to grab a second black hat to cover Spike’s plutonium enhanced head.
***
Buffy ran up the stairs from the subway and straight in to Bug. Hoping he wouldn’t recognize her she muttered an apology while plucking his wallet from his back pocket. Thankfully the shorter man noticed neither Buffy, nor her artful dodger routine and Buffy hurried past him to the multi-story brick building that currently housed her vampire. Stopping a block away from the main door, Buffy rummaged through her prize, extremely happy when she found Bug’s Identity Card/Door Key. She hadn’t expected this kind of luck and had planned for a much more complicated entry plan, but she wasn’t about to look a gif horse in the mouth. Walking confidently up to the glass doors, Buffy swiped the plastic card and grinned at the little green light. Once she had found the freezer room she swiped the card again and pushed on the door, only to be rebounded. Growling at the little card she rubbed the magnetic strip on her sweater and tried it again, then smirked at the flash of green and pushed the metal door open.
Once inside the freezer, Buffy realised she had a bit of a problem. There were about one-hundred metal doors, as well as a few gurneys with suspicious shapes covered in white sheets, and not one of them was labeled with a name. Not a single, friggin’, one. In place of names, each one had a neat, white tag on which was a letter and an eight digit number. With no better ideas, Buffy began opening and closing doors, looking for the shocking white hair of Spike’s head. After ten minutes and about fifty doors she was about to start screaming, she knew the noise would call attention to her presence in the building, but this was seriously getting to be a real pain in the neck. Just before she did her best Christine impression, Buffy pulled open a door two from the end and caught a glimpse of the familiar head. Grabbing the drawer handles, the slayer pulled her boyfriend from his frozen crypt and grinned down at his face, and was severely disappointed when there was no reaction. “Come on, you moron. I’m here to rescue my prince charming.”
Spike didn’t twitch.
Buffy waited.
After five minutes Spike still hadn’t moved
With a roll of her eyes Buffy bent down and kissed her boyfriend awake.
Spike was having a happy dream; he was sitting in the sun with Buffy in his arms. The dream was infinitely better than the one he’d been having not two minutes before, that dream had had something to do with the Antarctic and being kicked by giant penguins with scalpels. This new dream was so realistic, he could feel the touch of Buffy’s fingers on his face, and taste her lips on his, their sweetness and warmth and wait just a bloody moment. Spike’s baby-blue eyes flew open and were met by the hazel of his girlfriend.
“Oh thank bloody God!” the vampire said, sighing in relief, “Do you know what they did to me? What they were going to do to me? They wanted to remove my organs and put them on a damn scale!”
Buffy bent over and kissed Spike again. “Come one babe, let’s blow this Popsicle stand.” Spike stood up and Buffy realised their escape plan had one little, but growing, flaw. “But let’s liberate you some clothes first.”
Spike smirked, “I don’t know, this could work.”
***
Dr. Macy was sitting quietly, reflecting on the lack of chaos in the office, there were no police demanding his attention, no reporter trying to get an early scoop, and best of all no Jordan telling him how her latest case was falling apart on the slab. Nope, nothing, just peace and quiet. This was how a morgue was supposed to sound, how it was supposed to look, just quiet doctors and dead people, no one was supposed to be frantically running towards his office like Jordan was doing just now. Crap.
Jordan came to a skidding stop just outside of Dr. Macy’s office, “Dr. Macy,” She said, trying to catch her breath, “We have a problem.”
Dr. Macy closed his eyes and for a moment made believe that Jordan wasn’t standing there. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you remember the vehicular manslaughter victim we had in here?”
“The one who you were- Had? Don’t you mean have?”
Jordan shook her head, “And unless someone released him without filing any paper work, anywhere, he’s been snatched.”
Dr. Macy dropped his head to his desk, “Has anyone informed the girlfriend?”
Jordan hemmed and hawed for a moment, “We can’t find her.”
The head medical examiner closed his eyes and silently asked anyone who was listening what exactly it was he’d done in this or any other life to deserve body snatching. “I guess you’d better inform the police and public health department.” Crap.
***
Jordan stood next to Detective Woody Hoyt as he nodded into a phone call. “Yeah… Yeah… Thanks.”
As soon as he hung up the phone, Jordan pounced. “Well?”
Woody shook his head, “The desk manager said a woman fitting our description checked out early yesterday evening, and mentioned going to see family in Quebec City.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed, “She’s running.”
The detective closed his eyes and took a deep breath, it could be hard to dislodge Jordan once the woman had sunk her teeth into something. “For all we know, this ‘Buffy’ could be completely innocent.”
“Her boyfriend just died, would you take off for a international vacation after something like that?”
Woody smirked, “I might if you were after me.”
Jordan smacked her friend on the shoulder. “Come on, there’s only a few places in the city where she could dispose of that body, we’ll find her.”
***
Buffy and Spike had been enjoying themselves since their prison break. Buffy reached across Spike’s nude body to grab the TV remote and turned the small set on. After the first fifty-something channels, the slayer was starting to wonder what the draw of having five hundred channels was exactly. She would have kept flipping if her bedmate hadn’t woken up and put a prompt stop to her activities. Neither ardently amorous adventurer noticed that the TV was still on.
***
Jordan stood to the right and behind Det. Hoyt as he addressed the assembled reporters. The detective had distributed pictures of both William Blutig and his body-snatching girlfriend along with printouts from the California Division of Motor Vehicles. Hopefully someone had seen Buffy and would report it.
***
Buffy reached out and snagged the TV remote from is precarious resting place on bedside table. Glancing up as she hit the power button, the slayer was surprised to see her face splashed across the screen, the DMV picture was followed by a brief description of herself. Oh, fuck.
“Spike,” the slayer said nudging the drowsy vampire next to her, “We have a problem.”
The blond vampire looked up at the small screen. “Yeah, you could say that. How did they get all that information?”
Buffy flopped back in the bed, “They’re the police, they do whatever.”
“Is it time to move?” Spike asked.
Buffy shrugged, “You’re the one with all the duck and evade practice. What do you think?”
“Well it’s not as though the owners’ve seen us.” Spike said, running his tongue along teeth. “We should be safe here for awhile.”
“Good,” Buffy muttered and tucked herself against her boyfriend’s body.
***
Lily had seen the WHDH news bulletin on her way out of the office, a woman named Hank was talking with her co-host about something, then Buffy and Spike’s faces filled the screen. She really hadn’t expected the Californian woman to respond to her boyfriend’s death the way she obviously did. It was unfortunate as well as unexpected. As she pulled into the driveway of the place her aunt was staying in, Lily checked the name on the business card against the one on the wooden sign hanging next to the door. Just as she was lifting her hand to knock, the door opened to a brunette Buffy.
“Ms. Summers,” The counselor said with a smile. “We’ve been looking all over for you. I have some bad news regarding-“
“Who is it, luv?” a voice Lily didn’t recognize interrupted her from behind Buffy. She looked up and into the face of a man who had previously been dead.
“-the man right behind you…”
Buffy’s shoulders sagged, “Lily, meet Spike. Spike, this is Lily, the counselor from the MEDICAL EXAMINER’S OFFICE!” The slayer turned to her boyfriend, irritation pouring from her face, “Why didn’t you just stay sitting where you sat? You’re dead, remember? Dead men do not come to the door!”
Lily watched, her confusion at the sight in front of her only growing as the man, who’d not twenty-four hours ago been lying dead in the morgue, raised his hands in surrender, “Well it’s not like you should be answering the door either Ms. My-face-is-plastered-across-every-news-station-here-to-Canada.”
Buffy grimaced, “Why don’t you come in Lily, we should probably explain things to you.”
Lily nodded and followed the couple into their small room. “So,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, “Um… If you weren’t really dead, how’d you survive the last three days? I mean you were in a freezing locker for a whole day, and you didn’t have a pulse.”
Spike looked at Buffy, who shrugged. The vampire turned back to Lily, “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“No,” Lily answered, “Unless that’s what you are, in which case I’m going to be re-evaluating my belief structure in the near future.”
Spike shook his head, “I’m not a ghost, I’m… well, I’m… I’m a vampire.”
Lily snorted, “What like black capes, widow peaks, and lightning when you laugh?”
Spike rolled his eyes, “I’m a vampire, not a Muppet. The whole Dracula thing is a stereo type most vampires try to avoid.”
Lily smiled, “Well, vampyrism is a valid life style choice, I’m sure, but that doesn’t explain how you were able to appear dead for three days.”
“No, I said vampire, with an ‘I’, not vampyre with a ‘y’. There is no ‘lifestyle choice’ at play here, in fact you could say it was the exact opposite which brings us here today. See,” Spike said vamping out, “I really am a blood sucking creature of the night.”
Lily fainted, passed right out.
“Well,” Buffy said, “That must make you feel good.”
Lily had been out of it for maybe ten seconds when her eyelids began fluttering, then opened. Spike was back to his human face and Buffy was kneeling next to her. “I have to say,” The counselor said weakly, “I didn’t see that one coming.”
Buffy smiled down at her, “Yeah, that’s about how I reacted the first time too.”
“Are you a vampire too?”
“Nope, just Spike.” The slayer said, “You don’t have to be worried though, he’s generally a good guy.”
Lily pushed herself up into a sitting position and accepted the glass of water Spike was handing her, “So,” She began, “Can you explain something for me then…”
***
Jordan had spent most of the day waiting for a call from Woody telling her he’d apprehended Buffy Summers. When the call came it wasn’t from the person Jordan expected. “Hello?”
“Hey Jordan,” Lily’s voice came over the line. “If I give you an address can you swing by tomorrow?”
“Sure.”

Day Five:
Eight o’clock in the morning on Friday morning Jordan and Nigel walked up to the Beacon House Bed and Breakfast and knocked on the door to room four. When it opened they found themselves face to face with a person they’d never expected to see vertical, or at least not with out some serious support. “Hello, why don’t you come in?” Jordan and Nigel silently walked past the former corpse and sat down. Buffy was sitting on the bed opposite them, a mischievous smirk on her face. The two criminologists sat silently and listened to Buffy and Spike’s story in mute amazement.
When the blond couple had finally finished talking Nigel and Jordan were amazed, neither had expected the story they were told. “So two are INTERPOL agents?” Nigel asked with an eyebrow in his hairline.
Buffy nodded, “We’re in Boston tracking an art dealer suspected of trafficking artwork and relics from the Middle East.”
Jordan was still amazed, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for all the suspicion.”
“It’s okay.”
Buffy shrugged, “Trust me; it’s not the end of the world.”
“I don’t understand how you were able to switch the bodies?” Nigel asked, “The body we examined was so lifelike.”
“You’d be surprised what a bunch of brains can do with gelatin, a human skeleton, cow’s blood, and latex,” Spike said. “We have this one girl, Willow, the things she does, you’d swear it was magic.”
“And if we’d gone ahead with the autopsy?” Nigel pressed.
“You’d’ve come up with amazingly realistic latex organs. That’s why we had to get the body out after Buffy saw the holes from the blood draws. Even history majors could tell the difference between rubber and human flesh. We knew the job had been blown.”
Jordan nodded, “What about your records? Buffy’s is about eight miles long and Spike’s is non existent.”
Buffy laughed, “My record from Sunneydale is real. I was working undercover in a gang at the time. After the case was over my bosses decided to just keep it the way it was to make latter insertions easier. And Spike… Spike had a few little problems awhile back, HQ hasn’t finished putting together a new background, he was let out here because no one thought there’d be a problem. But no, someone couldn’t keep himself out of the damn bars.”
Spike glared, Buffy smirked.
***
After about three hours Jordan and Nigel had had their questions answered. And Buffy was afraid her nose wouldn’t fit in any building smaller than the Super Dome. The night before she and Spike had decided to keep their real jobs under wraps, the fewer people who knew about vampire, slayers, and the problems that went with, the better. It had been fairly easy to convince Lily to keep their secret; the counselor was accustomed to keeping confidences and didn’t think people would believe her anyway.
As Buffy packed her bags she watched Spike strut around their room in his fighting blacks, they were planning to make one more attempt on the head of the rouge clan tonight before catching a plane back to California in the morning. Giles would have both their heads when he found out, and he’d probably laugh in her face when she told him what their cover had been. Her, an art inspector, well her mother would’ve been proud.
***
As Jordan and Nigel walked into work three hours late Dr. Macy was there to greet them.
“Had a productive morning?” The chief examiner asked, with more than a slight hint of sarcasm.
Jordan shrugged, “People live, people die, people show up in the morgue. About the same as usual.”
Dr. Macy wandered off to begin work on a new case, and Jordan and Nigel walked down the hall to the lab. As the door shut Jordan turned to Nigel, “Was it just me, or was Spike not reflecting in the bathroom mirror?”