Buffy Summers and her roommate Faith Lehane sat at their kitchen table, eating breakfast and reading through the Sunnydale Times newspaper. Faith sighed and shook her head, folding it up once she finished looking at it.
“Another girl found dead near the beach,” she said. “Police think she was a prostitute.”
“Wasn’t that girl they found dead over the weekend a prostitute, too?” Buffy asked, and Faith nodded. “I’d assume it’s coincidental, then.”
“Looks like there’s a guy out there trying to stop the world’s oldest profession,” Faith said, eating her cereal.
“Have they released the names of either of the women?” the blonde asked, and Faith looked at the newspaper, skimming to find the answer.
“It says the one from before was named Amy Madison,” Faith said, and Buffy froze, staring at her friend. “What’s wrong?”
“Amy went to high school with me,” she said quietly, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “She was a cheerleader with me.”
“Oh,” Faith said before shrugging. “Sorry.” Buffy stood up and took her dishes to the sink, setting them down before wiping off her eyes. “Were you close to her?”
“I haven’t seen her since we graduated, which is kind of odd considering-” she began to say before cutting herself off. “She was a really nice girl, never had problems with anyone. Her mom was kind of weird, but Amy was sweet.”
“Well, your ‘sweet’ friend is in a body-bag right now in the local morgue,” Faith said, and Buffy’s jaw dropped in shock.
“Jesus, Faith! You really don’t have a heart, do you?” she asked, upset. “An old friend of mine was murdered, and you don’t even try to show any compassion towards her… or even me!”
“We’re taught early on not to let our emotions into things,” Faith replied, standing up and taking her empty bowl to the sink. “Or have you forgotten that?”
“We’re supposed to cut off emotions when we work, not during the rest of our day,” Buffy said sternly, crossing her arms. “But even then, that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to lack sensitivity to things like this.” She turned and began to walk away, but Faith grabbed her arm and turned her around.
“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “You know how I can be sometimes.”
“No, you’re not like this sometimes,” Buffy replied, correcting her. “You’re like this all of the time.”
“Call it a defense mechanism,” Faith said, shrugging. “I’d rather not focus on the reality of things in life. You’re supposed to enjoy yourself, do what you want, right?” Buffy looked away, frowning. “Come on, B- lighten up.”
“Amy is dead, Faith,” Buffy said blankly. “Any of us could be next.”
“What? You mean prostitutes?” Faith asked, and Buffy nodded. “Well, we’ll just stay in tonight then, won’t we?”
* * * * *
William ‘Spike’ Brooks sat at his desk, across from his partner Lindsey McDonald, at the police station, looking through a file.
“Amy Madison was only twenty,” he said, skimming through information. “The girl they found last night was younger than that.” He looked at Lindsey. “Did they ID her yet?”
“Kennedy Stevens,” Lindsey said, looking at a different file. “About nineteen years old, from Seattle.” He looked up from the report. “No idea why she was in Sunnydale.”
“A runaway, maybe?” Spike suggested, and Lindsey shrugged. “Would make sense, what with her selling herself for money and all.”
“Harris is looking into it,” Lindsey said, shutting the file on Kennedy. “He’s on the phone with her parents as we speak.”
“Xander’s working on the case with us now, right?” Spike asked, and Lindsey nodded. “Good. We need all of the help we can get.”
“We don’t even know if the two murders are related,” Lindsey said, and Spike raised an eyebrow.
“Both girls found near the beach, both prostitutes, both young- you don’t think the same person is killing them?” Spike asked, and Lindsey sighed. “Don’t be daft, McDonald.”
“For all we know, it could be more than one person,” he said. “And both of which might be taking a page out of Jack the Ripper’s book.”
“Not this again,” Spike said, running a hand over his face. “I haven’t slept in nearly thirty hours and don’t have time to listen to that garbage.”
“Fine,” Lindsey said, standing up. “Maybe it’s ‘garbage’, but you can’t avoid the facts- we don’t know who killed these girls or why he or she did it.” Spike nodded, grabbing another file. “Did Rupert tell you about the meeting he scheduled tonight?”
“What meeting?” Spike asked, confused. “I thought we were free to leave after lunch.”
“You can go home, but we have to meet with a group of women tonight who are known for prostitution,” Lindsey said.
“Wait- we know they’re prostitutes?” Spike asked, and his partner nodded. “So why aren’t they locked up? Or being fined?”
“They agreed to help in exchange for not being brought in and ticketed for solicitation,” Lindsey said. “Seven o’clock at O’Donnell’s Pub.” Lindsey walked away, and Spike shut his eyes, wishing the day would be over.
* * * * *
“I can’t believe we agreed to meet up with cops,” Faith said as she and Buffy entered O’Donnell’s a little before seven o’clock that night.
“Not like we were going out on the streets tonight, anyways,” Buffy said, shrugging. “Besides, maybe we can help them crack the case or something so we can go back to our normal lives.”
“Our lives aren’t normal, B- I’m fairly positive on that one,” Faith replied, spotting several of their friends at a couple of tables in a back corner. They walked over and sat down amongst the group, noticing how afraid everyone else seemed.
“Hi,” Buffy said quietly, looking around and recognizing Willow Rosenberg, Tara Maclay, Darla and Drusilla Daniels, and Winifred Burkle, better known as Fred. Everyone met up on the weekends sometimes to talk and discuss rate changes for their services, but unlike their usual gatherings, this one was more somber.
“Are the police here yet?” Faith asked, and Darla motioned to the door, where two uniformed police officers now stood. “Wow. Can we say ‘gorgeous’?”
“I’ll see your ‘gorgeous’ and raise you a ‘delicious’,” Willow said, in awe. Buffy looked at the two men and noticed one looking at her, their eyes locking. She felt a chill run through her before looking down quickly. Faith smirked as she noticed her friend blushing.
“The blonde one is undressing you with his eyes,” she said quietly, nudging Buffy. “Maybe he’s thinking of giving you a ride. I bet he’d be a stallion.”
“Will you shut up?” Buffy hissed, and Faith grinned, looking at the two policemen as they sat between Buffy and Willow.
“Hello, boys,” Faith said, practically purring. “What can we do for you tonight?”
“I’m Officer Brooks, and this is Officer McDonald,” Spike said, looking at the girls. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
‘Of course,’ Buffy thought. ‘The scrumptious one has a British accent- fantastic. The gods above must be toying with me, knowing damn well that I love men with accents.’ She noticed that he was still talking and instantly pushed all her thoughts aside, focusing on how marvelous his voice was.
* * * * *
Throughout the two-hour meeting, Buffy was extremely conscious of what she said and how she acted in front of Officer Brooks, who eventually told them to call him Spike and his partner Lindsey instead, trying to keep the mood light despite the dismal subject matter.
Whenever Spike would inadvertently get too close to her, or when their fingers brushed when she took a piece of paper from him, she felt a strange emotion go through her and couldn’t figure out what it was.
‘Maybe you’re just depressed over Amy,’ Buffy thought. ‘Your odd behavior tonight has nothing to do with the attractive cop beside you.’
“So, that about wraps up everything,” Lindsey announced, packing up the files he brought with him. “If anyone has questions or concerns, you can call the police station and ask for either Officer Brooks or myself.”
“And be aware of everyone you come in contact with,” Spike said, standing up. “We don’t know anything about the murderer… or murderers, so be very careful who you talk to.”
“We can’t tell you to stay in every night because I have a feeling a lot of you depend solely on the money you make from your jobs,” Lindsey said, standing up, too. “But if you don’t need to go out unaccompanied after dark, I would refrain from it. We’re doing our best to protect you all, but we can only help those who are willing to cooperate and are mindful of the situations they’re putting themselves in.”
“If any new information comes in, we’ll be sure to alert you,” Spike said. “Until then, though, try to lay low and don’t be reckless.”
“Thank you for your time, ladies,” Lindsey added. “And have a good night.” With that, the two men walked away from the table, and Spike allowed himself a fleeting glance of Buffy before he left the bar.
“Anyone else need a drink?” Darla asked, and everyone vigorously nodded their heads. “On me.”
“What’s the special occasion?” Faith asked, and Darla looked at her.
“I’ve never been so depressed and horny at the same time.”
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