bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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bmblbee
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Rosebud Murders

Title: The Rosebud Murders 2/45

Author: BmblBee
Rating: M for Mature language and m/m sex
Also warning for violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters
or products named in this story
Paring: S/X
Summary: HAU
Spike is a Homicide detective trying
to stop a serial killer before he strikes
again. Xander is a psychic who offers
to help him.





Thanks to the talented Petxnd for the banner and preread.


Spike wasted no time. Dressed and out the door in minutes,
he slapped the dome shaped, removable flashing light onto
the top of his car and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

He threw the stick shift into first and flipped the switch, bathing
his red Corvette in the pulsing blue and white twirling light
as his siren screamed.

Rupert Giles, his department head, had given him the address
and, luckily, he was only minutes away. Hopefully his partner
would already be there. Faith had the ability to instantly, upon
arrival at a scene, analyze, take charge, and organize things
in a way that impressed Spike beyond words.

With his window rolled down, Spike took in the sounds and
smells of the city at night. It was an environment most of the
population cringed at and shied away from

People dreamt of the country. Getting away from the smog, the
filth that lay in the alleys, the depression of the slums and the
hopelessness of the homeless.

Not Spike. He felt right at home. Having grown up on the streets
of the lower end of London, he was comfortable with the trappings
of a economically strapped metropolis. It was what he knew best.
It was where he belonged.

The only difference between here and London was the daytime.
Cities in California had the ability to change, to disguise themselves
in the sunlight into a place of palm trees and prosperity, but like
everything Hollywood, it was artificial.

Costumed like a year round halloween, it can't pretend when the
night comes. When the sun disappears so do the smilers,
the shoppers, the happy designer coffee drinkers, the health
nuts and mothers who stroll causally and safely through the parks.

Back into the sanctity of their ranch style homes in the hills above the
valley and what is left is the stark reality that people like Spike are paid
to deal with.

This was a job Spike had taken to like a duck to water, climbing quickly
through the ranks after finishing first in his class at the academy.
Two years on the street, 18 months in robbery and a short stint in vice
he had moved up even quicker than he had hoped.

It was a series of promotions that left a bad taste in the mouths of some
of his fellow officers, but, fuck it.
Spike was not here to make friends. He kept to himself, choosing not to
hang with the others as most cops did. The others saw Spike's separation
as aloofness, snobbish, or worse, suspicious.
Spike saw it as self preservation.

If his fellow officers realized his sexual preference, he would be finished.
It was the one sin that could not be accepted. In an environment where
they had to be able to trust their very lives to each other, a gay officer
would be seen as weak. Unreliable, a sick fuck that threatened their
very masculinity.

He would be done. Not only here but anywhere he would try to go.
The tight knit comradery of cops was world wide.
A whisper in the right ear, a word of gossip and a man's life was
no longer his own.

No, Spike was very content with the way things were and he
had no intention of allowing that to slip away. He was exactly
where he wanted to be. Homicide. It was what he strove for
from day one. It was what he had earned during his time working
back up his year in vice.

That was where he first met Faith. Faith St. John. She was the
decoy. The pretend hooker put out to lure the johns into offering
money for sex.
It was all fairly routine, or at least it had been till that ugly October
night when things went tits up. Literally.

Planted in a nondescript van on the corner of sixteenth and Waller,
Spike and a rookie by the name of Cooper had been watching Faith
walk slowly up and down the sidewalk.

They had chuckled as she jerked the back of her skirt up and flashed
them some cheek. It had been a slow night and just as they were beginning to
think she was going to come up empty handed a black, wood sided
station wagon slowed.

Pulling nose first up to the curb, they watched and listened as she ask if he
was looking for a date. "How much?" He answered. They waited, knowing
not to make a move till he actually offered the money and requested a
specific act.

"You a cop?" They snickered as they heard her reply of "These look like
cops tits?" They waited through the few minutes of silence and could
almost hear him think.

"Get in." They got ready as they watched him lean over and open the
passenger side door, Spike snubbing out his cigarette and Cooper
swallowing the last of his can of Pepsi.

"Not so fast, Lover." They saw Faith step back out of reach. "I need
to see some cash and know exactly what you want. What? I can't
hear you."

Faith stepped closer and leaned her head in the vehicle in an attempt to
make sure her wire could pick up what the john was saying.

Spike sat upright and reached for the key.
"What the fuck does she think she's doing?"

Before Cooper could answer, a car speeding by blasted it's horn just
inches from Spike's ear causing him to jump, turn and become
momentarily distracted.

"Spike! Now! Go now!"
Cooper's frantic voice brought him back to the job and he looked up
in time to see the station wagon speeding away and Faith no longer on
the sidewalk.

"FUCK! Goddamn it! Hang on."
Jerking the wheel, Spike tore out into traffic cutting off an 18 wheeler
and earning him a chorus of horns, curses and threats.
He was just able to follow the retreating tail lights as they sped off
into the darkness.

Grabbing the microphone, Cooper called headquarters and reported
their situation, requesting back up. They had lost sight of him twice,
Spike constantly straining to see in all directions at once while his
partner kept up a constant litany of directions and updates on the radio.
Stark County Communications, jokingly referred to as Starcom, had
dispatched three units and were in route.

"There! There they are!" Cooper pointed to the right.
Spike immediately turned the van onto the dirt access road that led to the
cemetery, turned off his headlights and crept up cautiously. When they got
closer they could see both the passengers and driver's doors standing
wide open. The interior lights of the station wagon lit up the area just enough
to see the silhouettes of the two people struggling and falling to the ground.

Slamming to a stop, Spike and Cooper jumped out, guns drawn, and
rushed over shouting.
"Let her go! Back away! Get the fuck away! Sheriff's Dept.,
You're under arrest!"

The huge hulking figure loomed largely over top Faith's smaller body,
He stood, his feet planted on each side of her hips.
Lying flat on her back, Spike could see that her arms were either tied
or pinned beneath her. The look of terror in her eyes reassured him.
At least she was still alive.

The glint of the blade flashed and shone briefly in the blue car light and it
felt as though it had been plunged into Spike's stomach when he saw
it aimed for her throat.

"Don't do it. Drop the knife and step away. Step the fuck away or I'll
shoot!"

What happen next was a blur. Spike can barely remember the arc of the
knife as it swiped across Faith's throat. If he was a betting man he'd have
bet it wasn't him that pulled the trigger. It would have been a bet he would
have lost.

The perp flew back, tumbling to the ground, dead with one bullet to the brain.
Blood, splinters of skull fragments and brains splattered on the surrounding
grave markers.

The cut, aborted at the first swipe, had been only skin deep and although
bloody, hadn't hit an artery. It did promise a hell of a scar.

Several things resulted from the ensuing full inter-departmental investigation.
First, it was determined to be a justifiable shooting, much to everyone's
relief. Second all officers were quickly declared mentally fit to return
to full duty and last, due to the discovery that the perp was the killer
they had been seeking in the deaths of two other prostitutes, the three
officers involved were hailed by the media as heroes.

Grasping the opportunity, Spike requested a transfer to homicide and with
Faith as his partner, both accepted their reward.
Cooper stayed with vice.
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