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
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.
The next two days were hard driven, pounded out police work.
Spike and Faith had reviewed the list of family members, friends
and generally anyone who came into contact with the victims,
hoping desperately to come up with a common thread.
Some sort of bond that would tie one to another.
Something that, besides their physical similarities, would
point to why them. Why they were targeted.
They had nothing.
Combined with the grueling 12 hour days, was the problem of distraction.
Generally during a case Spike and Faith spoke constantly, talking over
each detail, bouncing ideas back and forth, expounding theories.
This time, however, they didn't. Each blamed the stress, the lack of
information, the stunted direction for the silence when in fact each one's
thoughts were occupied by one very special person.
After the debacle in the Waffle House, Faith had moved Kennedy into her
apartment. Neither woman thought Elvin was actually stupid enough to make
good on his threats, but why take the chance.
Spike, on the other hand, couldn't clear his mind of a certain psychic with
incredible eyes and an irresistible body. The more he tried to block out
his thoughts of the boy, the more he found himself fantasizing about him.
He pondered on the metaphysical and, for the first time in his life, actually
considered that there might be more to the world than can be readily perceived.
Spike knew one thing. He wanted to see Xander again. He just wasn't
sure if it was ethical. He never would consider it if Xander was
a witness, but he wasn't. He also wasn't a suspect or even someone
who could be termed a person of interest. Although, to Spike, he
was more than interesting.
On the evening of the second day, Spike sat at his desk, alone, surrounded
by pointless facts and paperwork, Faith had finally gone home for the day
and the night shift downstairs was already reporting for duty.
Spike drummed his fingers on the small wooden space not covered
by crime scene photos and field notes, thinking.
'Sure is late. Time to go home. Have some dinner. By myself. Alone.
Damn, I haven't been shopping in weeks, probably isn't a scrap of food in
the whole fucking place. Ought to just go out. Hate to eat alone.
Should have ask Faith. Hmm. Who else could I call?'
Spike was already fingering the card that he had been carrying around
in his coat pocket. Once he had satisfied himself that he had totally
rationalized the call, he picked up the phone.
Spike shivered at the sound of the deep, clear voice. It was just as he
remembered. It was just what he needed to hear.
"Hi, Xander? Hey, it's Spike. I know it's late. I hope I didn't wake you"
"Nay, I was up. Just watching the news. How's it going?"
"Not so good. Shit, to be honest, it's not going at all. Look, I'm sorry
I bothered you. I shouldn't have called. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"
Spike felt his nerve slip and decided the call was a bad idea after all.
Xander had been very open about being gay and Spike didn't want him
to think this was a date. He was suddenly afraid taking Xander out may
be perceived as coming out. Something Spike was not ready to do.
Xander had hoped and waited for two days for this call and he
wasn't about to let it end like this. He knew the minute he met Spike
that the detective needed his help, and he knew more.
"Wait, Spike, don't go. Have you eaten? I know I haven't
and I'm hungry enough to eat a cow."
Spike snorted as Xander continued.
"Tell you what, I rent a small apartment over the wood shop and there
is a pizza place just two doors down. Why don't I call ahead, you can
pick up the pizza and then stop up. No pressure, just a couple guys,
a couple beers, and a nice big gooey pizza. Sound good?"
Spike's face lit up and his tired body suddenly felt charged and renewed.
It sounded better than all right. It sounded like heaven.
"Yeah, sounds good. I'll leave here in about five, swing by and get the
pie. I'll be there in about half an hour. Do I need to get anything else?"
"Nay, I'll order everything we need, you just pick it up. I'll see you then.
"I'm really glad you called."
"Me too. See ya in a bit."
Spike was floating on cloud nine. He quickly scooped up all the reports
and papers on his desk and stuffed them back in their folders. He quickly
dropped them down in the front of the file cabinet, not wanting to take the
extra three minutes it would take to categorize and file them properly.
He snatched his jacket off the back of his chair and after locking his office
door, was gone.
He zipped through the late night traffic with a smile on his face and a song in
his heart. Suddenly all the stress and pressure of the day seemed lifted, lessened,
much less important compared to an evening of pizza, Xander, and.........?
Spike slowed the car and frowned.
'And what? What does Xander expect to happen?
What do I think is going to happen? Fuck! What am I doing? O.k., as soon
as I get there I make myself perfectly clear. Some food, a little conversation
and nothing more. That's it. I establish my expectations immediately and there
is no misunderstanding later. Right then.'
With that determined, Spike turned onto the street he remembered from two days
ago and had no problem finding the Pizza Pit, right where Xander said it would be.
Stepping inside, Spike approached the counter and the pimply faced boy behind
"Pickin' up an order. Name of Harris?"
The boy smiled broadly and hustled off toward the back oven room emerging
only seconds later with two large bags.
"That'll be $48.62 please."
Spike was shocked. He stood bug eyed with his open wallet in his hands.
"What? What the hell all is in there?"
The boy set the bags down on the counter, his smile never faltering.
"We got the mammoth sized pepperoni with extra cheese, a dozen hot wings,
Two bags of chips, one barbecue and one salt and vinegar, and a half
dozen pickled eggs."
At the sight of Spike's gobsmacked expression, the boy's grin dropped
and he took on a look of concern.
"Sorry, did I miss something? Mr. Harris is an excellent customer and
I don't want to forget anything."
Spike threw a fifty down on the stained counter and snatched up the bags.
"If you did, Mate, I can't imagine what it could be. Keep the change."