bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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bmblbee
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Rosebud Murders

Title: The Rosebud Murders 28/45

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.




Banner by BmblBee


Buffy scooted up to a sitting position in the plush king sized
bed, allowing the rich high quality sheets to pool around
her less than perky breasts.

Reaching over to the night stand she picked up a cigarette and
lit it, sucking the thick smoke into her already contaminated lungs.

"Well, that was a real surprise. How come after all these months
of silence you decided to call me now?"
She looked over at the man who lay beside her. Although personally
she didn't like him, he did have a hell of a cock, and a peculiar bedroom
quirk that she had no aversion to.

"Oh, I don't know. I just got to thinking about you and missing you.
Thought we could spend some time together. You know, a little
chit chat, catch up on old times, see what's happening.
So, how's the investigative reporting business? Anything new?"

Buffy drew her feet up allowing the sheets to billow and the distinct
odor of expended body fluids to float out into the room.
"Oh, you know. The usual. Mayor gets an illegal parking ticket.
Methodist Church holds a soup and salad lunch. Fertilizer factory
figures out that their shit thefts are an inside job. Nothing I
can really sink my teeth into. Why?"

The man beside her rolled over and propped his head up on his hand.
"Because maybe I can change that. Maybe I've got a story that will
set this town on it's ear. It's a story I might be coaxed to share, if
you're willing to work with me. What I'm proposing is a little
'you scratch my back and I scratch yours'."

A huge grin spread across Buffy's face and she squirmed around till
she was flush up against him.
"You want your back scratched? I love to be scratched, just like a
big ole pussy cat. Head to toe, although skip the head, I don't want
my hair mussed."

The man next to her leaned away from the blood red talons that were
aimed in the direction of his body, cringing at the thought of what
damage they could cause.

"No. no, I mean an exchange of information. I give you the biggest
story of your career, the one that makes you the star you deserve to
be, and in return you feed me all the information you uncover. We
keep each other in the loop, so to speak. Of course this agreement
is just between us. I'm your unnamed source and you're mine.
What do you think?"

Buffy's eyes lit up and the excitement bubbled from her face as
fluidly as the cum oozed from her snatch and ass.

"I say hell yes! It's a deal! What do you think Max?"
Buffy rolled over and looked at the man on her other side. Max
took the cigarette from her hand and took a deep drag.

"I think this has been a surprising afternoon all the way around.
Hell, no way we can lose. I'm in."

The man on her right reached over her and placed his hand on Max's
stomach, feeling the warm skin and the treasure trail of bristly hair
that led downward.

Max spread his legs to let the hand continue on it way.
"Just how big a story are we talking here?'

Angel sat up and wrapped his fist tightly around Max's growing erection.
"The biggest. Serial killer big."

Buffy reared up, knocking his hand away from it's prize.
"Holy Fuck! That is huge! How the fuck would someone use cereal
as a murder weapon?"

Max and the other bed mate groaned in unison.

****************************************************

After much discussion a plan was formulated. Spike had decided
it was worth a try to have Xander hold the evidence that was secured
in his office safe and give him whatever impressions of the killer he could
come up with. Faith had reluctantly agreed.

There were only two glitches in this idea and they were that Xander
sometimes had strong reactions during his visions and they couldn't
afford to draw the attention of a room full of cops.

The other problem was that Spike didn't want Xander seen.
It wasn't that he was ashamed of him, or them, it was just that if
they were correct, the odds were good that the killer was inside the
building right now and Spike didn't want Xander put in any more
danger than he already was.

Following their agreed upon plan, Faith had dropped the men off
inside the parking garage next to the Corvette and continued on to
her office upstairs. She would deflect any interference and give
Spike a chance to slip in under the radar.

Spike waited a minute or two then followed her, leaving Xander
to wait for him in the car. When he glanced back he was slightly
dismayed to see Xander happily rooting through his entire
CD collection.

Ducking in the lower level entrance, the activity inside the station
house appeared to be normal.
Several officers were interviewing people who wanted to file complaints,
the coffee machine had the usual crowd hanging on it, bullshitting, and
no one spoke or took notice of him as he passed. For once he was
grateful as hell for his lack of buddies on the force.

Slipping, with no intervention, into his office, Spike crouched down
and spun the numbers on his small safe. He then grabbed
the sealed evidence bag with the latest rose bud and tucked
it safely into his inside jacket pocket.

Darting out, he glanced over in the direction of Faith's office,
alarmed to see she was being corner and chewed out by a very
angry Chief Inspector. Catching her eye, he gave her a slight nod and
a sympathetic look before disappearing.

Without pausing, Spike dodged around the desks in the center of the main
room, bypassed the elevator and rushing for the stairs.
Amazingly he was able to make it down and out without being stopped
or questioned.

Hopping into the Corvette, Spike scowled at the mess of plastic cases on
Xander's lap. Quickly deciding the complaint could wait for later, Spike
turned the key, threw the sports car into first and squealed out of the
underground garage.

Within minutes they had arrived at Spike's apartment. A front unit duplex
Spike had his own drive way with carport. Xander was eager, anxious
to get inside and see what he could read about the sexy blond detective
he had fallen for.

Spike turned the key and Xander hurried inside. He stopped in the small
entry way and with his eyes closed, smiled and soaked it all in.
He knew immediately that although Spike spent very little time here, no one
else had ever called this home with him.

It was comfortable, a quiet refuge where Spike spent his time.
As an empath, the emotions were what came through the strongest.
It wasn't entirely what Xander would have expected. The air swirled with
a combination of insecurity, loneliness, and determination.

Without asking for directions or permission he hurried on to the bedroom.
He laid his hands on the rich brown velvet bed cover and allowed all
the charged, purely physical, psychic impressions to infuse him.

Quietly, and with a patient curiosity, Spike followed. He stood, leaning
against the door frame waiting to see what Xander had to say.

"I don't like the man you have had here."

Spike sighed. He walked over and sat down on the bed Xander was
kneeling beside. He shrugged and tried to explain.

"Don't like him much myself, Pet, but sometimes a half rotten apple is better
than none if you get hungry enough."

Xander nodded. He could accept that. Besides, it didn't matter.
He was here now and Spike would never be hungry again.
Not if Xander could help it.
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