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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is a terrific little site 'addy!'

Thank you to everyone reading this fiction. I want to assure you, that although Spike and Buffy (in my fic) are made up and doing great,love wise, there will be danger for them both in future chapters.
Thanks,
Luv, Spuf
A MURDER IN SUNNYDALE


Chapter 28: ‘The Key Revealed?’


“Enough of the mystery ‘list’ baby,” Spike pulled Buffy closer to him and nuzzled her forehead with his lips. “Mystery later, make-up time now,” he smirked.

“Well, I guess,” Buffy gave Will a real cute pout. She hoped he couldn’t resist her little ‘subtle’ move.

“Just look at my baby’s bottom lip,” Spike cooed, “gonna’ get it, gonna’ get that plump little soft lip.” He leaned into Buffy and nipped at her lip, greedily.

“So how about it?” he grinned at her, his eyes bright with merriment, “make-up?”

“Oh, all right,” Buffy purred silkily, standing up just to take Will by his hand. “Make-up room is right through here.” She led him into the guest bedroom of the cottage, a giddy smile on her face.

“That’s my sweet baby,” Spike murmered into Buffy’s ear, even as he began to pull her top up over her head. “Mmmm,” he hummed, excited by his wife’s warm touch on his now bare chest. “My Goddess, my Princess, you make me feel like a fucking God!”

Before either Spike or Buffy realized, they were both stark naked and writhing together on the bed. Spike wasted no time with foreplay, not this time anyway, he plunged into his love, forcefully.

“Oh God, Buffy,” he moaned into her neck, her jaw, her mouth. “If I’d lost you, I’d bloody die inside.”

“Me too,” Buffy whispered softly, “I don’t want to leave you, darling, ever again. I never will leave you again.”

“I’ll never leave you, Buffy, sweet,” Spike gasped as he trust into her wet center, “never leave you.”

As they rocked themselves into their mutual release, Buffy realized that she meant exactly what she had said. She would never leave this man again, never. Not by choice, anyway.

Spike was in heaven, again. Actually, he was finally getting rather cozy with the upper ‘ethereal realm. Ever since he’d met his wife, Buffy, especially since they’d made love the first time, then the second, oh and the tenth, and so on, and so on and….

Anyway, Spike, who had never really been to ‘heaven’ before, was certainly moving in and taking up residence now. With this woman, his Princess, his Goddess Buffy.

A/N:
(okay, forgive the hokey hokey stuff, I’m worn out from overtime at work and need to get to the mystery stuff!)


Later, after the ‘make-up’ sex, the kind that Xander Harris always told Buffy was the best sex, she and William were laying together. Buffy was humming softly to herself, possibly ‘Giving You The Best I’ve Got’ and snuggling into Will. He was rubbing her naked back, his hands gently running in circular motions, starting from her shoulders, to her hips.

Suddenly, Buffy jolted up from the bed, nearly throwing Spike from it. “I’m starved!” she exclaimed, “wanna’ eat cold pizza?”

Spike burst out into laughter and pulled her back down to his body. “I really dislike cold pizza, luv,” he informed her with a kiss on her bare shoulder. “But, for you? I”ll heat it and feast away.”

Buffy skirted out of the bed and ran for the pizza box, a woman with a mission. She turned on the oven and took out another wine glass for Will. While the oven pre-heated, she poured them both a glass of wine and plopped down on Will’s, now boxer clad, lap. He’d joined her in the kitchen, taking a bar stool for a seat.

Sighing in contentment, Buffy lay her head back on Will’s shoulders. “So,” she began, her voice soft and feminine, “how do you think we should ‘announce’ our nuptials and all?” She giggled, happily, at the thought of the sending out of letters of announcement to just everyone she could think of. For some reason, the name Angel O’Connor topped her and Will’s list of recipients.


“For starters,” Spike kissed the back of Buffy’s warm neck, lovingly, “I think you should ‘call’ your Mum and Dad, immediately, and tell them. Then your little sis and her hubby. After that,” he chuckled, “I suppose you should give old Giles a ring and let him know we’ve reconciled and all. Poor bloke was white as a ghost when he wrote out the directions for me, up here I mean.”

Buffy grinned, “I don’t think old Giles, as you put it, will be all that unhappy about us reconciling, sweetie,” she giggled again. “Truth is,” she sighed, “Rupert’s only interested in my happines, so, if you make me happy? He’ll be fine with it.”

“Knew he was a good bloke,” Spike nodded as he ran his fingers down Buffy’s bare arm. “But,” he turned her about to face him, “I do think we need to tell everyone we can, fast as we can, that we are hitched, good and proper. Can’t wait to see the whelp’s face,” Spike began to laugh with glee.

“Whelp?” Buffy asked, puzzled.

“Your partner, Harris,” Spike grinned at her, a wicked gleam in his eye. “This way, the poor ponce’ll know for sure he’s got no chance with you.”

“You’re incorrigible, Will,” Buffy sighed, slapping his chest, playfully. “Xander is so not interested in me, not really, but I really can’t wait to see how Angel reacts, the dickhead!” She smirked at her husband, with her own wicked gleam in her green eyes.

“Yeah, can’t wait,” Spike muttered. “Especially for when I rip the fuck a new one for upsetting my girl and trying to split us apart.”

“Honey,” Buffy murmered, rubbing her bare breasts against his bare chest, “Angel is no worry for us. Not now, not ever.”

The ding of the oven timer broke their conversation and Buffy leapt up to pull the pizza out of the oven. She grabbed the wine bottle and re-filled their glasses.

While he waited, Spike began to doodle on a piece of paper he’d found on the breakfast bar, where they sat. He scrunched up his brows, concentrating on the scratchings he’d just written down.

“What’s that?” Buffy asked, innocently, placing their plates of pizza on the breakfast bar. She pulled another bar stool up to the bar and scanned Will’s doodling.

The scratchings consisted of some letters and what appeared to be some kind of ‘mutant’ numbers.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Spike sighed in frustration. “It seems to be nothing at all. Wesley and me, we’ve racked our brains as to what these could mean, but…nothing pans out.”

Something in Buffy’s brain began to ‘niggle’ her in the back of her mind. ‘Seems to mean nothing?’ she repeated her husband’s words, ‘but something, still. I’ve seen those letters, those numbers,’ she realized.

“Thought they might be a lock and key manufacturer’s logo, or a locksmith’s number,” Spike snorted and shook his blond head. “But Wes and me, we’ve exausted the information sources, no maker of keys seems to own up to this file number.”

Buffy looked at her husband, her head tilted to one side, in question. “Key maker? Logo?” she asked with a puzzled expression.

“Old Holden, he left me and Wesley, both of us, really, this mystery key. The wanker neglected to leave us directions to what exactly the key opens. We thought, Wes and me, that maybe the key fit a lock to something special. Maybe the thing that held this ‘list’ everyone from England to Sunnydale, down to Los Angeles is so fucking interested in.

“Will,” Buffy whispered slowly, “I’ve seen those markings before. Somewhere and I’m pretty sure they are not a locksmith’s number or logo.”

Spike looked at his wife, stunned, while she leapt up from the bar stool and hurried into the bedroom. Seconds later, she emerged, a silky little kimono covering her once naked body.

He watched, mesmerized, as Buffy scanned about the Giles front room, apparently looking for something. Frantically searching for something she felt might be very important. All the while, Buffy talked, never stopping to even take a breath.

“When I was about fourteen,” she stated, her voice more of an excited breath, “Dawnie was nine. My folks, Dad and Mom, they suddenly got a spell of that ‘old time religion’ in their lives. Insisted that Dawnie and me, that we ‘go back’ to the Church. Mom was raised Catholic, Dad was just ‘raised’ so they went with the Catholic doctrine.”

Spike watched, stunned, as Buffy scurried about the front room of the cottage, looking in every nook and cranny for something.

“Of course, that meant Catechism for both of us, me and Dawn. We started the classes, made it through them, somehow.” Buffy leaned over a chaise lounge and checked behind it, affording Spike a lovely view of her bare bottom.

“I’m not getting the whole ‘religious’ thing here, Princess,” Spike gasped, eager to reach out and touch his wife’s bare bum. He was getting painfully hard again, down in his cock and wanted nothing more then to grab Buffy from behind and plow into her.

“In Catechism,” Buffy continued, now straightened up and busy scanning the room again, “we had to learn some things. From the Bible, you know?” She paused, her head tilted to one side, eyes wide with excitement. “The King James’ Version of the Bible. Our Priest, Father Corrigan, he was kind of ‘old school’ and insisted we learn from the King Jame’s Bible. Anyway,” Buffy shook her head in impatience, “one of our lessons, it was to memorize the Books of the Bible. Especially the New Testament.”

“There it is!” Buffy exclaimed in victory as she nearly ran to the China cabinet in the corner of the front room. She opened the glass doors and pulled out a huge, antique Bible from inside.

“Rupert and Jenny,” Buffy explained breathlessly, joining Will at the breakfast bar, once more. “Well, Jenny, she’s a Catholic by upbringing. I knew she’d have a King James’ Bible around.”

Buffy anxiously paged threw the huge Bible, barely taking a breath as she did.

“What’s the Bible have to do with the key, the list, baby?” Spike asked, totally confused now.

“When I was in Catechism,” Buffy mumbled quickly, “I couldn’t remember the Books, of the Bible I mean, their full titles. Had to come up with a trick to memorize them by. I used abbreviations and trick phrases for the Books. That’s why I recognized ECCL, Will,” she grinned at him, delighted to have possibly figured this mystery out. “I don’t think that ECCL stands for a manufacturer’s logo or name; it’s the abbreviation for Ecclesiastes, a Book of the New Testament!”

Spike glanced over his love’s shoulder and spied the Book she mentioned ‘Ecclesiastes’ and realized that it did make some kind of sense, after all.

“What about the numbers,” he mumbled, still somewhat confused. “How about the II4.”

“Chapter and verse,” Buffy responded quickly, using her slim finger to skim down the page to find the ‘first chapter/fourteenth verse’ of Ecclesiastes.

“Here it is!” she cried with excitement and began to read the writings to her Will:

Ecclesiastes I: 14:

‘I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.’


Spike scrunched up his brows, again and sighed, “Christ,” he groaned, more puzzles from Holden?”

But Buffy couldn’t respond, she just sat, her green eyes wide in shock. Finally, she spoke, cupping her right hand on her husband’s chiseled cheek.

“Will,” she whispered in wonder, “the vanity. Your Grandmother’s vanity, at Holden’s apartment. I saw it, touched it and tried to open it. Baby,” she gasped, “it’s locked up tighter then Fort Knox!”


A/N: Dum, dah, dum dah! Yes, folks, it’s ECCLII4, the very passage that the old adage ‘All is Vanity’ came from. Hope this wasn’t to darn far-fetched. Please read and review! Thanks, Luv, Spuf





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