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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for reading this and the lovely reviews. They always inspire me!
Also, I'm not sure if I'll be giving 'each' chapter a title of it's own, we'll see.
Thanks, Luv, Spuf
ALL MANNER OF MONSTERS




Chapter 1:

A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this new fiction of mine. Thank you for the lovely reviews.

Summary: We meet Riley Finn, ruthless asshole that he is and his mistress, Buffy Summers. A flashback will provide some insight to Spike and Buffy’s past together.


Riley Finn watched his two most trusted ‘men’ Graham and Forrest half walk, half drag Warren Meers into his office. Meers must have been onto Riley, the head honcho surmised. Seeing as how the fucking little maggot, Meers, looked about him, in terror. Especially, when the traitorous little worm noticed the plastic covering that lay beneath his feet, on Riley’s pristine office floor.

“You’ve betrayed me, asshole. Big mistake, Meers,” Riley stated evenly, never letting his steely stare break from Warren’s. “You gave the wrong people, the wrong information, you little prick,” Riley continued calmly. “The problem is?” Finn raised his dark right brow at Warren Meers. “Is that you fucked the wrong person, Warren,” Riley hissed, pointing his own meaty right index finger at himself.

After a firm, quick nod at Graham, Riley watched as his favorite henchman drew his revolver and put a bullet into Warren Meer’s worthless fat head. Riley grimaced, briefly, watching as Meer’s brains splattered all over the plastic that Forrest had so carefully laid there, earlier.

“Clean this shit up!” Riley barked at Graham and Forrest, harshly. “Buffy is meeting me, in less then an hour for lunch. Can’t have my gorgeous girl see this crap mucking up the place, now can I?”

Ocean and Vine Restaurant, in Santa Monica, was the newest, chicest place that Riley could think to take his Buffy. His Golden Girl, his Queen. At least, Riley wanted Buffy for his Queen that is. Until now, the head honcho of the LA based Irish Mob faction could only ‘convince’ Buffy Summers to be his mistress, not yet his wife.

Buffy sipped her chardonnay, carefully, and scanned the beachfront view outside of the restaurant’s huge, panoramic window. She had met Riley, her uhm ‘boyfriend’ a while earlier. In his office, and although everything there had seemed kosher? Something, Buffy just knew it, was off. Something sinister had just taken place in Riley’s LA office, Buffy could sense it.

“Good, Baby?” Riley purred as he stroked Buffy’s tiny little hand with his own larger one. “The wine I mean?” he asked, with his boyish Irish charm.

“Uh huh,” Buffy shrugged, almost indifferently at her ‘boyfriend’ of almost six years. She flipped her long golden hair back from her face and continued to stare out of the huge window.

Buffy nervously sipped at her wine, continuously, trying to avoid Riley’s scrutinizing gaze at her. Her guy’s glare, kind or not, always seemed to unnerve Buffy, no matter how hard she tried not to let it.

“I was thinking,” Riley murmered, his lips pursed, his brows scrunched together in thought. “What do you think of Catalina Island? For a wedding site, Baby,” this intimidating man stared his mistress down, formidibly, that is.

“Wedding?” Buffy mumbled, anxiously. “Whose wedding?” she asked, gulping down her second glass of wine quickly.

“Why ours, sweetheart,” Riley chuckled softly. The one thing about Riley? His laugh or chuckle as the case may be? It could be deceptively kind, gentle or wicked on any given day.

“Riley,” Buffy sighed, her voice very soft and weak, “I’ve told you, time and again that I feel that I’m too young to marry, right now anyway. At this time that is and…”

“For fuck’s sake, Buffy,” Riley growled, tossing his expensive napkin on the little table between them. “You’re twenty-fucking four years old! You’re more then old enough to marry me and start popping out kids. Even ‘you’ should know that, right?”

Buffy cringed, slightly, at Riley’s glare and harsh tone. She leaned back into her chair, averting her huge green eyes from Riley’s brown ones and focused on the people walking past the restaurant, on the boardwalk outside.

“Besides,” the huge man continued harshly, “I’m thirty-two, sweetheart. Not exactly a kid you know. I’d like to start a family before I’m forty, at least!” He grumbled at the finish, alerting Buffy that her ‘guy’ was getting more and more exasperated with her.

“Well, yes,” Buffy muttered, her voice strained and suddenly tired for some reason. “I know I am old enough to marry, Riley,” she reasoned verbally, “but ‘I’ just don’t feel old enough to. Not yet anyway. I wish you’d respect this, Riley,” Buffy continued, weakly, still avoiding her guy’s brutal stare. “Just because I’m old enough, doesn’t make me ready to commit like that. I’d think you’d be happy to just have me, on the present terms. Cant’ you?” She finally looked into Riley’s deep brown eyes, hopefully.

“Christ,” Riley groaned in frustration, “I guess, Buff,” he continued, gulping down his beer. “Have you I do,” he added, smugly. “Forever, I guess, so yeah,” Riley sighed, “I can wait for you to come to your senses and finally say ‘I do’ to me. Just don’t make it ‘too’ long of a wait, Baby Doll,” Riley warned her with a deceptive grin. “Or I’ll have to take measures to speed things up a bit, won’t I?”

Spike and Xander headed into the LA office of the FBI, up in Santa Monica that is. For some reason, Spike was extrememly nervous about seeing the head man, out here in LA, to be briefed about this new case. The Riley Finn case.

Then again, Spike should have known just why he was so nervous about talking to this particular head agent, about this particular case. Shouldn’t he?

Once Spike and Xander had been ‘scanned’ by the electronic devices protecting the inner sanctum office, they proceeded to the main office. Their destination was the Rupert Giles’ office, the head of the bureau, at least in LA, for now.

“Hello Mr. Giles,” Xander greeted the distinguished looking older man, Rupert Giles, warily.

“Hello, Dad,” Spike muttered, under his breath, not meeting his dady’s blue-eyed gaze.

“Harris,” Giles replied, evenly, “son,” he drawled, eyeing his only child, William, cautiously.

“Sit down, boys,” Rupert Giles offered, politely as he pulled various folders out of his desk drawers. “I’ve got your paperwork here, your covers, so to speak. Some more information on Riley Finn and ‘those’ planets that revolve around him,” Rupert glared at Spike, momentarily.

For some reason, which Spike knew, of course, Rupert tossed the second biggest file of all at him. The one marked ‘Elizabeth ‘Buffy’ Summers’ fell right in front of Spike, on the desk that is.

Spike opened the huge file on Buffy, pulling the very top paper in it, out. It was a recent photograph of her, Buffy Summers and it caused that old familiar ache to rise up in Spike’s chest, up to his throat.

Rupert Giles watched his son, carefully, as the younger man scanned the photo of Miss Summers, Riley Finn’s mistress. His own heart ached for William, his son, knowing that he truly did love this young woman, Buffy. It was why William, aka Spike Sinclair, had taken this assignment, no, he had volunteered for it, to be exact.

“She appears to be very unhappy, son,” Rupert stated, gently, noting the ‘hopeful’ look in William’s blue eyes. “Miss Summers’ reasons for ‘being with’ Riley Finn seem to be varied,” he continued evenly. “It’s apparent that her relationship with Mr. Finn has little to do with true affection, love, as it were. There is something else keeping Elizabeth Summers involved with a man like Riley Finn, William.”

When Rupert had finished his little psychoanalyzing, Spike shrugged his shoulders and tossed the file back on the desk. “She looks pretty God damned ‘happy’ to me,” he snorted, sarcastically. “But then why shouldn’t the beautiful bitch be happy? Finn must keep her in furs, jewels, new cars and that mansion in Beverly Hills. All’s she has to do is ‘pretend’ to love him and spread those long legs of hers and…”

Xander gawaffed loudly at Spike’s crassness, but Rupert just looked shocked, and a little angry.

“There’s no need for crudity, boy,” Rupert rasped, his own blue eyes glared at his son, harshly.

Spike noticed a hint of the old ‘Ripper’ flit across his old man’s hard face. It warned him to shut the fuck up and just listen, for once. Ripper, his father’s alter ego from the past, was not a ‘person’ to be fucking around with or get smart arse with. Not at all and if Spike wasn’t careful? He knew his father had the authority to pull his arse off this case, immediately. Nothing, nothing in the world could take Spike away from ‘this’ particular case. Not now, when he was so close to Buffy again. No matter how fucked up the whole ‘reunion’ might be.

The bleached blond younger Giles hung his head, sheepishly, “Sorry Dad,” Spike muttered, “It’s just that…”

It’s just that you have ‘feelings’ for Miss Summers,” Rupert finished his son’s sentence for him. “Which is why I was against you taking this case in the first place, son,” he added with a note of frustration.

Xander, who had been fairly quiet during all this, for once, finally spoke up. In Spike’s defense, as usual.

“Mr. Giles,” the dark haired man looked at Rupert, his dark eyes unusually serious for once. “Spike’ll put his duty ahead of his own feelings, you know that, sir,” Xander tried to assure the older man. “Yes, he cares for Miss Summers, we all know that, but your son has always put his all into his job, first. I know, for certain, that I can trust Spike to back me up, no matter what. And I’d do the same for him, of course.” Xander finished with a stoic nod of his dark head.

Nodding his own head, Rupert Giles picked up Finn’s file and opened it, quickly. “I suppose,” the older man mumbled as he leafed through the huge mound of paperwork.

“Let’s get this started, shall we?” Rupert almost sighed the question out as he handed both of the other men the information they would need for their new, very dangerous assignment.


‘Flashback…seven years earlier/Spike’s POV’


“Tell me again, Scott, why I let you talk me into this ‘party’ tonight?” William Giles grumbled at his best friend in irritation.

“Because, asshole,” Scott Hope replied good-naturedly, “you need to get your mind off your troubles. Jesus, Giles, this is Spring Break you know? We ‘are’ in San Diego and we’re sure as hell not down here for Shamu and Sea World, right?”

“Well, yeah, you’re right about that, mate,” William chuckled softly and ran his hand through his fair brown hair. He looked about the huge bar, situated right in the middle of the huge hotel they were staying at. Spring Break, in San Diego California, wasn’t about Sea World, the Zoo or even just the huge waves on the ocean, Scott was right. It was about pretty girls, getting piss assed drunk, getting laid, having fun, getting laid, partying and oh yeah, getting laid.

“You worry too much, friend,” Scott Hope, twenty-year-old William Giles’ best friend, continued, matter-of-factly. “You need to chill out, Giles,” the young man laughed roughly. “Find some pretty piece of ass and get laid, that’ll calm you down, somewhat,” the tall, football player burst into laughter.

“Yeah, you are right,” William laughed himself as he scanned crowed bar, looking at every pretty girl in sight. There certainly were a lot to choose from and William Giles never had any problem in ‘that’ department. He kept himself unfettered by love, yes, but he never wanted for female company.

William continued to look around at the pretty faces in the crowd, sipping his beer as he did. Suddenly, his blue eyes fell on a tiny, golden figure, dancing in the middle of the barroom floor. The little ‘nymph’ was dancing seductively, laughing and flipping her long golden hair about her shoulders while three or four or five, even, blokes surrounded her. The fools were vying for the young woman’s attention, but William could tell that she was just interested in dancing, nothing else.

Something about ‘this’ girl drew William to her, and mesmerized, he nearly stumbled over to the little group. Even as this blond dream continued to dance away, oblivious to him or anything else around her, apparently.

‘Oh bloody hell,’ William realized, just before he broke through the circle of idiots surrounding his target. ‘I’m going all William the Poet here,’ he chastized himself. ‘Nymph?!? Where the fuck did that come from?!’ But, instead of just turning and ‘running’ like hell in the opposite direction, William stayed on his steady course. He pushed past the neanderthal that was closest to ‘Goldielocks’ as he had just nicknamed the unknown beauty.

“Excuse me,” William purred as he placed himself right in front of the still dancing girl. “I was wondering,” he began to stammer, for some reason, starting to lose his confidence. Probably because Goldielocks here was smiling up at him (she really was a tiny little thing), her gorgeous, huge green eyes gleaming merrily up at him.

“Wondering what?” the mysterious girl whispered, never missing a step in her dance.

The song playing was outdated and pretty weird for this little ‘angel’ to be dancing to, but William blocked it out. Rebel/Rebel by David Bowie seemed a little strange for Goldielocks to be shaking around to, but William had always like the song, felt kind of a kindred spirit to it.

Ignoring the bitter mutterings of the male idiots who had been there first, William took another sip of his beer. He took a deep breath and gazed, seductively (he hoped) into the blond’s amazing emerald eyes.

“I was wondering,” William repeated, “if you’d like to, uhm, you know, uhm, ‘dance’ with me?”

‘Oh, Christ!’ William Giles groaned, almost audibly, ‘real smooth, Will! That was the most bent, fucked up pick up line anyone’s ever…’

“Sure,” Goldielock replied, simply, with a radiant smile that just melted William’s cynical heart.

“By the way, I’m Buffy,” William’s object of desire introduced herself as he just stood there, opened mouth and looking like a complete fool, no doubt.

“William, uhm, Will, I mean,” he almost stuttered in response, taking ‘Buffy’s’ petite hand in his. Before he could stop himelf, William brought her little hand up to his lips and kissed it, tenderly.

‘Oh fuck, Giles!’ he immediately berated himself, ‘this just gets better! You bloody idiot, she’ll probably bolt like…’

“Wow!” Buffy giggled, a delightful sound to William, “that’s pretty impressive, William, I mean, uhm, Will!” She grinned up at the blushing young man, another mischieveous gleam in her bright green eyes.


‘Present Day’

Buffy Summers drove her new, 2005 midnight blue Corvette, down Muholland Drive, quickly. Heading ‘home’ to the big, beautful mansion that she shared with her ‘man’ Riley, Buffy couldn’t help but sigh, sadly.

‘I can’t keep putting Riley off,’ Buffy sighed, inwardly, turning up the volume on the CD player. ‘He’s going to really start pushing this marriage issue,’ she warned herself. ‘I’m just going to have to do something, something to placate everyone. And soon.’

Switching the stations on the CD player, Buffy ran across a song playing. One she hadn’t heard, or allowed herself to listen to in years.

“Oh, God,” Buffy moaned, softly as she pulled over to the nearest curb. “Will…..our song,” she murmered sadly, fighting the traitorous tears that began to fall from her green eyes. Even while David Bowie’s Rebel/Rebel blared from her speakers.


A/N: Well, what do you think? So far? Thank you to everyone who has read and those of you who have reviewed the first part of this story. It’s probably going to be a long one.

Thanks again, luv Spuf





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