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Chapter 14-Where's my Little Dog Gone

Oh where oh where has my little dog gone?
Oh where oh where can he be?
-Septimus Winner
=Where has my Little Dog Gone?

The following day Buffy awakened tired but happy. After Spike had left to pick up Professor Giles, she had finished making the chili. Tara and Willow had shown up a few minutes after that and they stayed up talking and gossiping until late in the night.

Buffy told Willow about Spike and what had happened when he visited earlier that day. Willow, secretly sighing with relief that everything had worked out, pretended she had met him briefly at the beach.

Tara talked glowingly about his work and promised to loan Buffy some of his novels to read. Both of them told Buffy how very much they liked him.

How very happy they were that she'd found someone.

She was starting to gather her things to clean the Wood's cottage when the telephone rang. A deep masculine drawl came across the telephone line. “'Lo luv. How are you this mornin'?”

Buffy suddenly felt much more awake. That voice sends warm shivers down my spine all the way to my toes.

“I'm fine although I miss you. I know your friend is here, but will I get to see you anytime soon?”

“That's why I'm calling you. I miss you terribly and I really want you to meet Rupert, so I'm inviting you and Willow and Tara to dinner some place nice tonight. I'm going to take Rupert walking on the beach this afternoon, so why don't we say around 7:00?”

“That sounds wonderful. I'll call Willow and Tara.”

“Great, I'll see you tonight, Pet.”

“Bye Spike.”

“Goodbye luv.”

Spike hung up and immediately dialed information. “Operator, I need the number for a limo service in Sunnydale, California. Could you ring that for me please?”

He smiled contentedly and put his feet up. He needed to take care of a few details for tonight and then he would write for a couple hours before meeting the professor.

Three hours later, Spike had completed another chapter. He was starting to feel that the book wasn't too awful. It didn't matter anyway. It just felt so good, so normal to finally be able to put something down regularly on paper.

His head was in the fridge, deciding between fruit juice and lemonade, when he heard a frantic knocking on his door.

Faith was standing on the porch, distress written across her face. “Sorry to bother you William. Have you seen Poofy? He broke his leash and disappeared and I'm really worried.”

He shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I haven't been out of the cottage all morning. Have you checked with Buffy?”

Faith began to cry. “Oh no, what am I going to do?”

Spike was exasperated and very perturbed. He absolutely hated to see a woman cry. “Well, perhaps I could help you look for him? I have a few minutes free.”

Faith immediately perked up. “Oh, that's so nice of you. Robin's out looking, too. Maybe you could check out in the parking lot and down the drive? He might have gone there since we've taken him for rides. I'll continue looking around the cottages.”

As soon as she was sure Spike headed toward the office, Faith climbed back up the stairs to his cottage. She pulled a small tool from her pocket and worked the old lock on the cottage door. When it opened, she motioned quickly to Robin waiting on the path.

He walked up, a worried look on his face. “Are you positive about this Faith? I'm not sure how I feel about going inside the man's private cottage. It's one thing to shoot when the subject's somewhere on public property and God knows, I've done that enough. I think this is kinda pushin' the envelope. Don't you?”

Faith practically pushed him inside. “Robin, don't grow a conscience now. We need this, or we're canned for sure. Just take the shots I told you to get and let me worry about the rest. Now come on, I don't know how long he's gonna continue being Sir Galahad. Spike's known to have a low boredom threshold.”

He finally acquiesced, slipping inside with his camera.

Once inside, Faith immediately went to Spike's laptop and tried booting it. When the screen opened immediately, she snorted. What an asshole, all that partying must have fried his brain. He doesn't even attempt to password protect his stuff.

She quickly found what she needed, produced a flash drive, downloaded the incomplete novel and put the drive in her pocket.

Climbing the stairs to the bedroom, she started searching the drawers and closet for anything interesting. Robin took the requested random shots downstairs. Upstairs, per Faith's request, he photographed Spike's unmade bed. He still felt uncomfortable, but Faith was in charge. It was her call.

They worked quickly and left unnoticed. Robin went back to their cabin to finish packing, while she walked to the front of the property.

Spike, after walking around the parking lot and the entire length of the long drive, gave up and started back to the cottage. Occasionally he stopped and reluctantly called Poofy's name.

What kind of bloody name is Poofy anyway? If she was British, she'd never have picked that one. No wonder the damn dog ran away.

Hearing his own name, he looked up and saw Faith. She called out to tell him that Robin had found the dog, so he waved and continued back to his cottage.

Faith headed into the office to tell Buffy she and Robin were checking out.

Spike walked into his cottage, noticed the laptop and frowned. Did I forget to turn my laptop off? Shrugging it off, he changed into swim trunks.

******
“I'm ready to enjoy the afternoon's outing, William. However I must ask you to take a photograph, because Olivia and Anne will insist on hard evidence.”

Spike looked fondly at him and grinned. “They'll never believe that I got you to do it, huh? Okay, when we get to the rocks, I'll shoot some pictures, but only if you agree to actually go into the water at some point.”

“As I believe the students would rejoin, 'it's a deal'.”

Spike and Rupert spent the greater portion of the afternoon walking along the edge of the water. He photographed the professor standing in front of Buffy's favorite boulder.He began to coax him into the water, enjoying the repartee built over years of friendship.

“We need some shots in the water, but first you'll have to remove those socks and sandals.”

The Professor snorted. “Hmm, I think not. I'm not comfortable with the tactile feeling of wet sand.”

Spike looking guileless, pointed at another spot. “Then stand there at the edge of the surf and I'll take some more pictures for Olivia. They'll be very nice with the sun at your back.”

Ten minutes later, the Professor appealed to Spike. “William, perhaps I should lay these wet shoes and socks upon this boulder so that they can dry while we swim?”

“Put them up a bit higher. You saw how strongly the surf rolled in.”

After they swam to the sandbar and back, the two men sat on the blanket Spike spread out on the warm sand. He handed over a beer from the small cooler. Tilting his head, he said, “I'm seeing someone new, Rupert, and I'm in love with her. I have hope that she loves me, too.”

The professor beamed at him. “That's wonderful news William. After Drusilla's heartlessness, Olivia and I feared you would remain loveless, afraid to commit so deeply again. She must be very special; you must tell me all about her.”

He grinned at the younger man. “Moreover, I am bound to give a complete report to Olivia, or be prepared for a fortnight of repose on the sofa.”

Spike laughed and launched into the story of how he and Buffy met.





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