William “Spike” Giles was not in the best of moods. He’d had a crap day and his night was turning out to be worse. All day he’d had to deal with punks and thugs, and he couldn’t wait for his shift to be over. Being a cop in Sunnydale, California on days like this did not have its perks. Working on his paperwork – something he hated more than anything – he glanced over at the calendar hanging on the bulletin board. It was hanging on by a thread, the tack slowly giving way. He wondered why he didn’t just go over and press the tack back in, thus righting the calendar. It’d be so easy. But he was lazy; which was laughable considering the grueling hours he worked.
His blue eyes squinted, focusing narrowly on the date. Full Moon. No wonder the day blew. Sighing he typed up the last of his daily log and was about to print it out and hand it in, when a commotion at the front door drew his attention away. Several of his colleagues were ushering in a woman, a tiny woman it appeared, huddled in a gray wool blanket, her head down and her golden hair wet. Curious, he stood to find out what the commotion was all about.
“What’s this about?” he asked Riley Finn, who had been one of the cops following her in. He couldn’t stand Finn most days, mostly because the man just had to know everything about everyone and seemed to have his hand in a little bit of everything; but if it meant he could get information, Spike would play nice.
Finn sighed and ran a large hand through his moppy brown hair. “Remember that case with the girl who witnessed her boyfriend and best friend getting murdered?”
“Yeah…uh, Summers, right? Betty or something.”
“Buffy. Yeah, this was just a couple weeks ago.”
“Right. What kind of name is Buffy?”
“Her first name is Elizabeth.”
“Whatever. So, what happened?”
“Well, she felt unsafe since she turned herself over as a witness. Sarge took pity on her; she’s really such a small little thing…”
Spike fought the urge to roll his eyes. There were times when Finn was nothing but a ponce. He thought perhaps the guy was gay and far back in the closet, but then there were times when he thought Finn was getting ready to catapult himself out of that closet. Like now, for instance.
“Yeah, and?” Spike prompted when Finn gazed off into the room where Buffy was talking to the Sarge.
“Well, the cop that had been scheduled to watch her house—“
“Andrew?” Spike snorted, “Yeah, I knew that was a mistake.”
“He fell asleep on the job and Buffy’s house got broken into.”
“Jesus,” Spike swore under his breath. “They get caught?”
“No, they ran off when Andrew finally came to and bounded in the house when he heard Buffy screaming her head off. He got shot and the intruders ran.”
“She all right?”
“She’s shook up. She was taking a shower when it happened.”
“Christ,” Spike muttered and peered into the room. He couldn’t make out her face; her hair was a drape in front of it, blocking his view. She was shivering, he noticed. So focused was he on Buffy, that he didn’t notice the Sarge opening the door and barking at him.
“Giles, get your ass in here!”
Spike snapped to attention and nodded, heading into Sergeant Ethan Rayne’s office. Now maybe he’d get to see Buffy’s face. It was driving him nuts that he couldn’t see her face. Spike hated mysteries, or rather; he liked them, but had a burning need to solve them immediately. He wasn’t known for his patience with these things…or most things actually. He just wanted to get to the bottom of things, solve the case and get it done. He supposed that’s why he was labeled “Impulsive” and “Impatient”. He could count on both hands and both feet how many times he’d been punished to desk duty because his impulsive and impatient behavior had gotten him into trouble.
Entering the Sarge’s office, he took a good hard look at Buffy. Her head was down, dammit, he still couldn’t make out her face!
“Have a seat, Giles.”
Sergeant Rayne’s steel blue eyes focused in on Spike. “Did you hear?”
“I did.”
“Figured as much; saw you talking to Finn.”
“What do you need me for?” Spike asked, wanting to get to the bottom of what he was needed for already. He braced himself for having the job of having to watch Miss Summers’ house in place of Andrew.
“What do you think?”
“Right. Summer’s house. What shift? Day? Night?”
“Both, you’re going to stay with her.”
Spike’s eyes widened. “I’m what?”
“You’re going to stay with her, and Finn along with Gunn, will be placed to watch the house. Those intruder’s, we feel, are connected to the murders Miss Summers witnessed. She feels violated as well she should, not to mention frightened.”
What Spike found odd through this whole exchange was how Buffy sat there, unmoving, and not having any reaction to what was being said. He found that quite strange and resisted the urge to tap her on the shoulder and ask her what she thought about all this.
“Right. So, how long am I to stay?”
“Until they’re caught.”
“Sarge, who the hell knows how long that’ll take.”
“We have a lead, hopefully it won’t take long.”
“A lead huh? They drop a business card or something?”
Sergeant Rayne glared at him. “Don’t start, boy.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to stay with me instead? Keep her safe?”
“She does not wish to leave her home; she has everything accessible to her there that she wouldn’t have anywhere else.”
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. He turned to Buffy. “Hey, how you doin’? I’m William Giles, but everyone calls me Spike.”
“Spike—“ Sargeant Rayne began.
“Hey, you’re gonna have to talk to me, eventually,” Spike said to her.
Buffy’s head lifted then and she looked at the Sarge, inquisitively. Sargeant Rayne nodded towards Spike and she looked at him, finally.
Spike’s jaw nearly dropped, and his heart plummeted. My God, she’s gorgeous, he thought. She had delicate features, Buffy did. Her eyes, large and expressive took him in, she blinked and studied him, her small mouth parted just a bit, her cheeks rosy and her nose, Christ, her nose was cute. Her skin looked so smooth that Spike’s hands itch with the desire to reach out and affirm its smoothness.
“Are you the one that will be staying with me?” she asked, her melodic voice firm and yet a tad wobbly.
Spike was incredulous. Had she been listening at all? Was she daft? What the hell was that about? “Yes,” he said, not able to keep some of the irritation out of his voice.
She turned back to the Sargeant. “Thank you.”
“Hey, I’m the one staying with you, you might want to be thanking me,” Spike said, annoyed.
Sargeant Rayne nodded toward Spike again.
Buffy turned back to him. “I’m sorry?”
“I said…you might want to be thanking me.”
Buffy bit her lip, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“Spike. Hey are you deaf or something? I said that already—“
“Spike!” Sergeant Rayne barked at him warningly.
Buffy nodded, “As a matter of fact, Spike, I am.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Wattie and Tammy for encouraging me :)