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A MURDER IN SUNNYDALE


Chapter 7: ‘Honest Methods’


Spike watched Buffy eat her clam chowder, right down without missing a beat. ‘Little One can really put it away,’ he chuckled to himself, delighted at Buffy’s healthy appetite. After she had killed off the clam chowder, Buffy dove right into her Shrimp Louie, with gusto, even as Spike watched, again in admiration. “So,” Buffy munched a lettuce leaf thoughtfully, “why?” Spike gave her a puzzled look, “why what, luv,” he asked sincerely. “Why the backing, the support, the big ‘I believe you Buffy Summers’ from you. About Amy, I mean?”

He quit staring at Buffy’s fork and raised his blue eyes to meet her green ones, “can’t a bloke just believe in you Buffy,” he inquired with a raised brow. “I think you’re pretty insightful, Lt.,” he continued earnestly, “I mean that. If you say Amy is innocent, I believe you. I believe in you, Buffy,” he finished quietly as he took his first bite of his own Shrimp Louie. Spike heard Buffy sigh, almost wearily, “yeah,” she whispered sadly, “that’s me, insightful, Buffy.”

Buffy sat her fork down, her appetite suddenly fled from her, “I’m not some insightful psychic, Spike,” she murmered in defeat. “I’m not even really sure…” He placed his own fork on the table next to his plate, “go on,” he ordered her evenly. “There is a lot of mixed feelings and signals going on in this case of your cousin’s murder, Spike,” she shook her head slightly. “I mean,” she stammered reluctantly, “that a part of me, the one that has some common sense, some detective insight, really believes that Amy did not murder your cousin and his mistress. I ‘did’ believe that, but, after talking to Giles? I wonder, really.”

“Giles?” Spike asked her, even though he knew exactly who she was speaking of. “My Dad’s best friend, and mine,” she added with a soft smile. “If it wasn’t for Rupert and Jenny Giles, I don’t think my little sister Dawn or me could have survived here, in Sunnydale, after Mom and Dad left. Not for long, but they stepped in and kind of took us under their wings.” Spike nodded in understanding, “kind of a surrogate family,” he stated rather then asked. Buffy grinned, “yes,” she stated simply, “that’s it, exactly.” He watched as her warm, affectionate smile turned to a confused, puzzled scowl, “it’s just that Giles, that’s what we call him, never Rupert, kind of brought something up that caused me to stop and question my own opinions.”

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow again, causing him to wonder what this little blonde-haired angel would think if she knew exactly ‘how’ he received that scar. “Stop and ponder,” he repeated with a low, soft mumble, “like, how?” Buffy scrunched up her golden brows and thought for a moment, “well,” she paused then hurriedly spat out, “he brought up some things from my own past. Asked me what ifs and where fors, you know? Made me kind of step back and wonder about Amy’s would be motives in Holden’s and Katerina’s murders.

Buffy watched Williamson’s own brows scrunch up, ‘wonder how he got that kind of cute scar above his left brow,’ she asked herself. “What did this Giles bloke say, Buffy,” Spike asked somberly. She tried to forget that she had asked this man time and again ‘not’ to call her Buffy, just Lt. Or Miss Summers or some such crap. “Giles,” she began carefully, a little afraid to reveal too much of her own history, “he asked me if I could have killed my ex-husband, Riley Finn, if I’d had a gun, at the time.” Spike gave her another ‘look’ and asked boldly, “a gun? At the time?” She blushed, she felt the hot rush of heat to her face, “when I caught him and his girlfriend, in bed, in our very own condo. It was after that that Riley asked me for a divorce, well, by this time, it was a mutual decision of course.”

Spike felt such a pull at his heart, such a strong, painful tug on something that he thought he had toughened up years ago. “Buffy,” he whispered gently, “tell me about it, please, luv, if you think it might help you.” She looked up at him, from her ranch dressing covered Shrimp Louie and blinked a couple of times before she could continue. “I came home, early, from my temporary desk job, at the precinct.” Her voice started off a little weakly, but as she spoke, it became stronger, more sure. “I’d just returned to work, after my, my miscarriage. I lost a baby, when I was shot,” she stuttered and looked at the view through the huge glass window of Willie’s Whaler. “I don’t know why, but I just had to get home, felt like I should get things settled between Riley and me. Caught him and Samantha Saunders, who is now his wife, in our own bed, together.”

She wondered why she was telling this virtual stranger this, but she couldn’t seem to help herself, she had to continue. “I didn’t make a real big fuss; no threats, no ‘I’m going to destroy you both’ threats and all that drama nonsense. Why bother?” she shrugged, almost indifferently. “I sometimes wonder,” she continued as she stared off into the Pacific Ocean, “if I even really loved Riley. To not want to hurt them, him and Samantha, I mean, really. Giles, he said maybe I didn’t, love Riley that is. If I had, wouldn’t I have fought tooth and nail to keep him, or at least destroy his new love? That’s what makes me wonder about Amy and your cousin, Holden. Amy claims she loved your cousin, truly, so maybe she could have, with jealousy, malice and forethought, kill him and Katerina out of envy or jealousy. Oh,” Buffy sighed in frustration, “I just don’t know anymore.”

Spike shuffled his salad about on his plate, a thoughtful look on his handsome face, “so,” he began cautiously, “you’re saying that if Amy St. Claire loved my cousin, Holden so much, so strongly, that she might have been capable of murder? Right?” Buffy bit her bottom lip, worried it for a moment or two then sighed in confusion, “actually, no,” she responded firmly. “I don’t think Amy St. Claire could kill anyone, or anything, especially Holden Webster. You see, Spike,” he was pleased she used his nickname so freely now, “Holden was Amy’s Svengali, her Rasputin if you will. Oh, he may not have been the best mentor, friend or even lover for Amy, but he was all of those things to her. Spike,” Buffy stared into his eyes deeply, “poor Amy. She didn’t leave St. David Arizona, her hometown, at sixteen, for fun or profit, you know?

She fled that place, and her abusive father. I suppose your cousin, Holden, seemed like a heaven’s angel to Amy when she hit Sunnydale on that bus. Maybe we all would have, we females that is. The damaged ones, too many of them, really. My ex-partner, Thomas Ford, he is dead now, he saw that damaged look in Amy’s eyes, her lost, dazed expression. I don’t know, maybe I am just a silly, lost kind of woman myself. A silly, compassionate fool and loser at heart.”

Spike gazed at Buffy, his mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. On one hand, he felt as if she had pretty much admitted she was not all that sure that the main suspect in his cousin’s murder just might be guilty. Then again, she had offerred to put up some kind of collateral for the unstable bint’s bail bond. That meant something, right? He watched the conflicting emotions play out on this beautiful woman’s face, in her emerald green eyes and decided to take a chance. ‘Tell her,’ he reasoned to himself, ‘tell her about your past, so sadly in common with hers and help her not feel so much like a loser. Do this mate,’ he ordered himself silently, ‘do this and give the girl some kind of hope for a future of self respect, at least.’

“We have a lot in common, Buffy,” Spike murmered softly as he reached across the table and took her tiny little hand in his. “You and me, we’ve got some things in common, but I don’t consider myself a loser, luv. Neither should you.” Buffy tilted her blonde head to one side as if to ask ‘what?’ Spike actually chuckled softly, “I was married once too, Buffy,” he admitted sadly, “almost ten years ago. To a beautiful woman, tall, dark haired and brown eyed, by the name of Drusilla. We were young, like you and your ex-husband, full of dreams and hopes. Except,” he paused and thought for a moment, “my Dru, as I called her, was a bit of a paradox, right from the get go.

She was what we call ‘touched’ a little in the head. Saw things, in her mind that is. For the two years we were married, she, Dru that is, kept going on about how I was destined for the light, the golden Goddess and such, not for her, Drusilla. I was always devoted to Drusilla, couldn’t be any other way. Raised that way and all, but still, my wife was ‘wary’ of me and our vows. One day, I too came home early, from the pub I was working at, at the time, caught my wife in bed with another woman.”

“I never once thought of harming Drusilla or her female lover, Buffy. Felt, I guess, that it was something that the two of them had not planned and couldn’t help. Maybe,” he added thoughtfully, “I really didn’t love Drusilla. Maybe, I was almost relieved that this indiscretion of hers was the final straw to a bad marriage on my part. Whatever,” he shrugged, “I left that day, from my own home and never looked back. But a loser, Buffy? I think not, me that is, my marriage woes were both my and Dru’s faults. We simply were not mean to be married to each other, period, Dru and me. I am not a loser, Buffy, and neither are you.”

She sat, silently, for a few moments, then sighed deeply and picked up her fork to continue eating. “Spike,” she finally spoke, her voice soft and very quiet, “thank you. For telling me about your past. It kind of clears some things up in my own mind, a little more anyway. I guess it’s just I hope that I’m not being led down the rosey garden path by Amy St. Claire. That my loyalty to the poor girl isn’t totally misguided.” Buffy noticed Spike had begun to eat his own lunch, again and after he told her ‘your welcome’ she decided to drop the self-pity party completely. “Food is good here, huh?” she giggled lightly, “even if the name of this place totally sucks?”

Spike grinned at her, nodded his blonde head, “yeah, it is good. Buffy,” he continued, “one more thing, before we drop the ‘auld lange syne’ conversation.” He watched her lovely green eyes open wide, almost a look of wonder in them, “about ‘why’ I’m accepting your belief in this Amy person.” Pausing for a moment, to think about how he wanted to phrase his next statements, he scrunched up his forehead in thought. “I get the feeling,” he finally began, carefully, “that you think I’m using this ‘comraderie’ of ours to well,” he hesitated just a bit, then, “to seduce you?” Buffy now wore the expression of a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ and Spike almost laughed out loud at it.

“Are you?” she asked quietly, averting her gorgeous eyes from his. Gathering up every bit of sincerity and honesty he could in his gaze, Spike told Buffy to look him in the eye. When she managed to get up the nerve to do just that, he caught her gaze in his and answered, “no. I’m not agreeing with your conclusion about the main suspect to coherce you, or fool you or lull you into my web of seduction of you. Buffy,” he smiled softly at her when he realized she did believe him, “I’ll be truthful, I do want you, that way, I mean. However, I have decided to seduce you by more honest methods.” The expression on Buffy’s face was priceless, almost shock, but a bit of a smirk was there too, Spike noticed.

“Honest methods,” Buffy practically purred in response to Spike’s truthful admission. “Yeah,” this complex blonde Brit grinned at her again. “When I seduce you, Buffy my sweet,” he nearly chuckled, “I’ll do it by wining and dining you. That and using my own natural charm to woo you.” Now he just began to laugh, merrily and Buffy couldn’t help but join in. She finally shook her head, “ego much,” she giggled and went back to eating her salad, stopping only to take a sip of her delicious shake.


A/N: A little filler chapter to keep things flowing. I know this chapter was a bit short, and perhaps confusing, but I felt it important to reveal some of Buffy’s self doubts and just one of the things that she and Spike have in common. Also, needed to express, once and for all, that Spike is not using Buffy’s determination to get into her pants. He put his cards right out there on the table, there is not master plan to fool or trick her. Okay, that’s it, thanks for reading. Please review. Luv, Spuf





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