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A MURDER IN SUNNYDALE


Chapter 3: ‘Honour Among Thieves’


A/N: I’m kind of taking a chance on this and submitting another chapter. I’m not quite sure if there’s a lot of interest in this fiction, but here it goes.

In this chapter Buffy and Spike meet and ‘chat’ of course sparks fly. Spike’s character will definitely be in the rest of the chapters. I’m hoping this generates more interest from the readers. Thanks, Luv, Spuf


Spike looked into the most beautiful, emerald green eyes he had ever seen. As if that wasn’t enough, the fiery green orbs seemed to belong to an angel, an earthbound angel that is, with honey blonde hair that hung well past her shoulders. If he could have spoken, Spike Williamson would have immediately spouted some sappy poetry, his original crap, or some more known prose from a famous writer, at least. However, Spike was at an instant loss for words. Well, okay, after he had mentioned the fact that maybe his trip to this outpost of Californian Eden which was Sunnydale, may have not been a total waste after all. That was when he first spied the little blonde before him, in her short skirt and proper little white blouse. ‘Good show, Spike,’ he chided himself, ‘react to seeing this Aphrodite with a real smooth line like that. God, William, you are pathetic,’ he admonished his alter ego in his own mind.


A part of Buffy Summers was ‘sorry’ that she had decided to wear her fave little black skirt to work that day. Okay, the description of ‘little’ may not have quite covered it, but short, as in three inches above the knee certainly did, especially for this job. However, the truth was, that this British, Billy Idol wannabe that now perused her like his last meal on earth, may have needed no added incentive, anyway, to stare at her that is. This man, who was apparently Mr. Williamson seemed to have a real good idea of just exactly what Buffy looked like, under her proper skirt and blouse. “This is Lt. Buffy Summers, Mr. Williamson,” she heard Captain Wilkens mumble, curtly, “and her partner, Xander Harris. Mr. Williamson,” the Captain continued with a sigh of obvious frustration, “is Holden Webster’s relative, from London.”

Buffy noticed that this Brit blonde neglected to even acknowledge Xander, instead, ‘blue eyes’ sauntered over to her and clasped the hand she reached out with to shake his. Instead, of shaking it with his very large one, ‘Billy’ brought Buffy’s hand up and lightly kissed the back of it. “Charmed, Miss Summers,” he purred, never taking his eyes from hers. She had to wonder, briefly, if Mr. Charming had felt the jolt of electricity that shot through her own body when he kissed her hand. ‘Yeah,’ she thought smugly, as she watched his reaction, ‘he felt it.’ Mr. Williamson’s blue eyes had lit up like fireworks when his lips touched Buffy’s hand and she definitely saw ‘voltage’ in them. Not only that, but the guy seemed to refuse to let go of Buffy’s little hand, as if they were melded together there. ‘Ha!’ she grinned in smug victory, ‘hope he’s happy. Trying to charm me. At least I think he was trying to charm me?’ Her pompous smirk suddenly turned into a questioning frown, but the blond Mr. Williamson’s somewhat dazed expression again assured Buffy that he had indeed ‘felt voltage’ himself when they touched.

“Exactly, why are you here again, Mr. Williamson. I mean, Sunnydale?” Xander’s deep voice was tinged with just the slightest bit of anger, Buffy felt and it broke the magic moment between her and this blonde stranger. “Like I told your boss,” Spike responded with irritation to Xander’s curt question, never taking his eyes from Buffy, “my family, Hold’s and mine, they sent me to make sure you make my cousin’s murder, top priority. Oh, by-the-by,” Williamson added with a dazzling smile, “you just call me Spike, okay, Princess?” Spike, as he asked to be called, looked directly into Buffy’s eyes and actually winked at her, causing her a mixed emotional reaction. On one hand, she did like the wink, she shouldn’t, but she did. On the other hand, who the hell was this handsome stranger to her, who gave off waves of danger to her; who was he to call her, Buffy Summers, a Homicide Cop, for God’s sake, ‘Princess!’ “You can call me Lt. Summers,” Mr. Williamson,” Buffy quipped back, knowing that her vocal slap hit home when she heard Xander’s sigh of relief.

Spike smirked, slightly at ‘Lt. Summers’ then shrugged his shoulders, “as you wish, Lt.” He responded politely, never taking his eyes from her fiery green ones. ‘Little brat,’ he seethed silently, ‘thinks she’s a little up there, above me, I wager. Well, we’ll just see ‘bout that, when it’s all said and done, bet I end up in her bed, her screaming my name. And that’s a promise to myself.’ Finally turning to the whelp, Princess’s partner, Spike smirked even wider, ‘oh,’ he chuckled to himself, ‘I see how it is. The whelp here’s got it bad for his partner. Bet the lovely Buffy hardly knows he’s alive, that way, anyhow.’ Spike sized the taller, larger built and younger man up before he answered this moron’s original question. He realized that it was obvious that he,Spike, was sizing up his potential competition, at least for Buffy’s affections, but frankly he didn’t give a fuck what this big ponce, Harris was it, thought. “Holden Webster, he’s…he was my cousin. My Dad is his Dad’s big brother and Holden actually was born in London. Me and Holden, we were best mates, that is until Uncle Weston decided to drag his arse over here to America and start him up in ‘business’ here,” Spike finished with a friendly grin, knowing that everyone in that room knew exactly what kind of ‘business’ Hold had set up. The shady kind of ‘business.’

Williamson turned his attention back to Buffy, “so Lt. Summers,” he shot her that damn smirk again, “what’d you think? That this little loony bint of Holden’s, Amy whatshername blew my cousin’s head off?” Buffy was stunned, momentarily that is. First off, she had no idea what ‘bint’ meant, but it didn’t sound like it was very nice. Also, the way the man, Spike, described the murder… ‘blew my cousin’s head off?’ she mused, ‘real sympathetic to your so called ‘beloved’ cousin’s death, asshole.’ Then it dawned on Buffy, why should she care if this Spike person was sympathetic to Holden Webster? If anyone did not deserve sympathy, it was Holden, now, Katerina McClay, that was a different story. The only thing that poor woman was guilty of was poor judgement, at least where her men were concerned. Something that Buffy could certainly ‘sympathize’ with and relate to herself.

Captain Wilkens took that very moment to break into the rather one-sided conversation. “Summers,” the Captain began carefully, “I want you to take Mr. Williamson here to your office. Bring him up-to-date on the case. Least we can do, he’s come all this way and…” Xander interjected with a loud whine, “but Captain, this is ‘our’ case, Buff’s and mine. Shouldn’t I be there, to you know, help fill in Williamson on the facts?” Xander eyed Spike warily, his brown eyes were filled with jealousy, “I don’t think that…” Captain Wilkens hissed loudly, “let it go, Harris. I’ve got some papers for you to look at. Oh, don’t worry,” their boss added, snarkily, “there’s pictures involved to help you understand better.” With that, the Captain motioned Xander to have a seat and to remain in his office, even as he dismissed Buffy to take Spike with her to her office. Xander slumped down into his chair, a childish pout on his handsome face as he eyed Spike and Buffy together, suspiciously.

“Oh, come on then,” Buffy hissed in exhasperation as she motioned for Spike to follow her down the hall to her office. She could feel the blonde man’s blue eyes trained on her bottom, all the way to the office, but he did hop to and open her door for her. “How noble,” Buffy mumbled sarcastically under her breath. Once the couple had entered her office, Buffy headed over to her file cabinet and began to rifle through the contents, at the same time, she nodded her head, motioning Spike to sit down. “So,” Buffy stammered as she pawed through the files in the drawer, looking for the Amy St.Claire papers, “what exactly does ‘bint’ stand for, Mr. Williamson?” She could feel Spike’s eyes, still trained on her backside, “if you’d stop purveying my ass and pay attention to my questions, Williamsom,” she snipped curtly, “maybe we could come to some understanding. About this case, I mean.”

“Sorry, luv,” Spike murmered wickedly, still eyeing this little angel’s arse with glee, “but you have the most exquisite little…” Lt. Summers slammed the cabinet shut, she carried a thick, manilla file in her tiny hands, “I’m not your love,” she hissed in frustration as she flopped down in her own chair, her cackles up. ‘No,’ he mused, ‘but maybe you could be…should be, actually.’ “I’m sorry, Lt. Summers,” Spike gave Buffy his most effective pout, “it’s just that you’re such a lovely young woman. I guess I’m not used to cops being so, well so very appealing?” Buffy shook her head in slight disgust, but he noted that she also smiled, softly, a purely feminine smile. “All right, Mr. Williamson,” Lt. Summers sighed softly, something that Spike found quite adorable, “let’s try and talk about this case, shall we?” He nodded eagerly, and leaned over Buffy’s desk to catch her pretty eye again, “I get the feeling, luv…I mean Buffy, I mean, Lt. Summers that you have doubts? About this Amy chit and all? Being my cousin’s killer?” A flash of pain swept across Buffy’s face, Spike noticed, then she shook it off and nodded to him. “I have some past knowledge of Amy St. Claire, Mr. Williamson,” she stammered, “I just don’t feel that the girl is capable of murder.”

“And,” Spike continued, his left scarred eyebrow raised in question, “do I get the feeling that you are the only one that thinks this chit’s innocent?” Buffy gave Spike a somewhat dubious look, “yes,” she finally admitted to him, “I’m probably the only one around that thinks that Amy is innocent. However, I’m also the one that knows the most about the girl. Did you know, Mr. Williamson,” the blonde woman muttered, “that Amy St. Claire was one of your beloved cousin’s young whores? I mean, the ones he oversaw in his first real Sunnydale venture? The call girl service I mean?” She glared at him, as if he was personally responsible for his cousin’s misdeeds. Spike flinched, slightly, took a deep breath, his eyes scanned Buffy’s smug, judgemental gaze, “I never said,” Spike mumbled evenly, “that my cousin, Holden, was a saint, or even a decent bloke. Just said he was ‘family’ and as such, I owe him.”

“You ever heard of the term ‘honour among theives’ Lt. Summers?” Spike stared right into the beautiful little brat’s green eyes and waited until she nodded, somewhat puzzled. “Well, there’s loyalty too,” he nodded at her with confidence, “as well as honour and our ‘family’ Holden’s and mine, we believe in loyalty.” Buffy seemed to ponder Spike’s last statement for a moment then, “so, what kind of honourable thief does that make ‘you’ Mr. Williamson,” she asked with a slight smirk of her own. He burst out laughing and leaned back in his chair, “no thief, I’m afraid to dissapoint you, Lt.,” he continued. “My business is owning and running a pub, in London. I’m afraid that the closest thing I come to breaking the law is if my place accidently serves minors liquer.” Spike continued to laugh, gleefully as he watched the little blonde angel’s reaction.

“I just bet,” Buffy mumbled under her breath, then stated more loudly, “well, that’s nice to know, Williamson. However, why is it that I don’t quite believe you?” This Spike stopped laughing and got the most injured look of innocence on his handsome face, “I assure you, Lt.,” he chuckled softly, “I’m as clean as a newborn lamb, luv.” He finished with a smirk that sent a tingle through Buffy’s body, so she quickly changed the subject. “All right then,” Buffy continued, scanning the files on Amy, “you get that I don’t believe Amy’s guilty. Even if she did run off? That’s a totally Amy St. Claire kind of thing to do…run off away that is. She probably knew, before the Police did, that Holden was dead. Not because ‘she’ killed him, mind you,” Buffy reminded the ‘victim’s’ cousin, “but because your cousin, Holden and Amy St. Claire had this,” she paused a moment. “They had this connnection between them, some kind of bond, I guess. I don’t know, sounds silly, but…”

Spike shook his head, “no, doesn’t sound silly at all, Lt. Summers,” he stated evenly. “In fact, Hold told me about this girl, Amy. More then once, actually. He did have feelings for her, this bond you talk about. Just can’t figure what kind.” Spike thought for a moment, “besides,” he leaned back onto Buffy’s desk and looked her straight in the eyes again, “I agree with you. I don’t think old Holden would have been taken out by a bint like this Amy, even a jealous one.” Buffy’s green eyes widened, there was a look of confusion in them, Spike noticed, that and maybe some gratefulness. “Well,” she murmered, “at least some one else believes me. About Amy that is.”

“Tell you what,” Spike broke the momentary silence, “why don’t you have dinner with me, tonight? There’s got to be a decent place, somewhere, in this berg of Sunnydale to eat, right? Holden’s club, it’s a bar and restaurant, we could eat there. Discuss the case?” He leaned even closer over the desk and gave Buffy his most dazzling smile. “Uhm, I…” Buffy hesitated, giving Spike some hope that she’d actually accept. “I can’t,” she finally mumbled after she glanced at her desk calendar. “It’s Friday,” she hurriedly explained to him as his smile turned to a pout, then a frown. “I have other plans,” she finished quickly.

“You’re not married, right?” he asked rather abruptly for her taste. “What?” she asked, stunned that he’d be so bold. “Well,” he pointed at her ring finger, “no band, no ring, no sign of any real ties for you. A woman like you, you’d wear a wedding ring, or engagement ring. You’d have to, keep the blokes away and let them know you’re attached.” Buffy just stared at the man in disbelief then she sighed and explained, “no, I’m no longer married, as if that’s any of your concern. However, I do have a personal life, Mr. Williamson and it so happens that my friend and I,” she paused and blushed, “that we have dinner on Fridays. It’s a standing date.” Spike was not to be deterred apparently because he then asked her if she’d see him Saturday night. “Can’t,” Buffy grinned slyly, “my friend and I, Saturday’s a standing date also.” ‘Why the hell am I explaining this to him?’ Buffy asked herself in disbelief, ‘none of his damn business. And why am I suddenly dissapointed in seeing Parker tonight? It’s not like I’ll ever date this Spike guy…I can’t, he’s, well, he’s a criminal, right? I don’t buy that ‘legal business crap’ of his for one minute.’

Spike frowned for a moment, a jolt of jealousy hit him, but he reasoned with himself, ‘of course she’s got a man, you stupid fuck. Why wouldn’t she? But,’ he continued his thought, ‘she did refer to him as a ‘friend’ and that’s rather interesting. Wonder if this friend of her’s is taking care of business…with Buffy that is?’ This gave Spike a little more hope, so he decided to just let it go this time. For the moment anyway. “Maybe another time, then,” he grinned at Buffy in delight when she actually squirmed in her chair and blushed profusely. ‘Gonna’ make you do both of those actions, soon, sweetheart, in bed,’ he promised her and himself, silently. Captain Wilkens’ voice crackled over the intercom on Buffy’s desk, “Summers,” he growled impatiently, “get in here. I’ve had just about enough of your boy, Harris’ whining about you and Mr. Williamson. Maybe you can calm him down?” Buffy laughed, again delighting Spike, “I’d better go rescue my Captain,” she grinned at him. “Xander can be pretty whiney when he wants to be. You stay here, Mr. Williamson, for as long as you want. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, if you like, if there’s any more information or if they find Amy St. Claire.” She stood up and left the office, pretty unceremoniously, Spike thought.

When she had gone, Spike pulled out his cell phone and fast dialed a number. “Wesley,” he barked at the man who answered the other end, “I need you to do something, now.” He frowned momentarily, “there’s a woman, Buffy Summers, a Homicide cop, I want you to find out everything possible, everything you can dig up on her. No, I know this isn’t about Holden’s murder, not really, but when I tell you to do something, you just fucking do it, right? Why the hell would I have dragged your arse over here with me, if not to have you do little things for me, huh?” Spike was losing his patience, “just do it, Wes,” he growled into the phone, “everything you can find. I think she’s been married before. Probably to a cop, wouldn’t doubt it anyway. Oh, she’s seeing ‘somebody’ at the present, find out about him. Yes, Wes, I’m fairly certain it is a ‘him’ all right?” He ended the conversation with Wesley Rhys-Smythe and snapped the cell phone shut. ‘We’ll just see, Buffy my Princess. How soon I can get between you and this ‘friend’ of yours and get ‘you’ sweet into my bed.’


A/N: Long chapter, sorry. As I said, I’m submitting this chapter in hopes of generating some interest in the story. Please read and review. Reviews, good or bad, help writers write better, really. Thanks, Luv, Spuf





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