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Period Of Adjustment
by
BmblBee
Part Eleven
Faith was exhausted. The extra work load was kicking her ass and the fourteen hour days were becoming the norm. She had actually thought that having Angel reassigned as her partner may give some relief, but had quickly realized that he was more a hindrance than a help.
Likeable enough, Angel seemed to have no natural instincts for interrogation and evidence discovery. Along with that, some
partners just seemed to click. She and Spike had been in sync from day one. They slipped easily into nonverbal communication and found their weak and strong points complimented each other perfectly. She and Angel, well, didn't.
That became glaringly obvious during their very first suspect interview.. Faith had noticed blood drops on the perp's shoes. Nodding slightly to Angel to look down, he misunderstood the signal and blurted out "Great shoes. Where the hell did you find them in that shade of brown?"
The shock in the killer's eyes when he noticed the evidence sent Faith scurrying. She had dashed from the interrogation room, scrambled for a warrant and hustled to confiscate the shoes before he could get out and destroy them. Angel was clueless. In the weeks that followed, things went from bad to worse. Much worse.
Her home life had sunk to an all time low and seemed to be going lower. She was working too much and Kennedy not at all.
Arriving back home, Faith looked at her watch and saw that it was well past one. Again. She had promised Kennedy that they could spend the evening together but something had come up
Something always seemed to come up and the tension around the apartment was thick enough to cut with a knife. Kennedy was antsy, irritable, and bored at the delayed release allowing her to return to work. Her dreaded appointments with that moron, Dr. Hiney left her frustrated and feeling guilty, as though everything Elvin had done was her fault.
Add to that two women PMSing at the same time and the hormones in the air were reaching toxic levels.
They had done nothing but argue since the whole rosebud case had exploded in their faces and now, Faith knew, coming in late would only add fuel to the blazing fire.
Quietly she opened the door and slipped into the silent apartment. All the lights were off and she sighed, although she didn't blame Kennedy for not waiting up, she really did want to talk. Easing open the bedroom door, Faith stuck her head in and blinked
into the darkness.
"Ken, Ken, honey, you awake?"
When she got no answer, Faith slipped in, quickly slithered out of her clothes and slid her naked body into the cool sheets. Reaching out it didn't take long to realize she was alone. In a panic, she immediately flipped on the light. Kennedy's side of the bed was smooth, unrumpled and clearly had not been slept in. But the worst thing Faith saw there was the note. The single sheet
of paper that lay on her lover's pillow.
Faith's hand shook as she reached for it. She prayed it said Kennedy had run to the store to satisfy her late night craving for chocolate cherry ice cream, or maybe a family problem had called her away. She knew better. "Please." Faith whispered. "Please, not that."
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"Dear Faith, |
Faith balled the note up in her fist and curled up under the covers. Wrapping her arms around Kennedy's pillow, Faith gave in to her crushing emotions and sobbed. It took an hour to run out of tears and cry herself to sleep. A sleep of unhappy dreams that brought no peace.
Xander woke with a start. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Rolling over he looked at the clock by the bed and watched as the digital numbers snapped over to 3:00am.
Turning over he reached for his lover only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. He remembered Spike telling him to go on in and he would follow shortly, but apparently he hadn't.
Tossing back the covers, Xander pulled on the sleep pants he laid at the foot of the bed and went in search. A task made simpler by the fact that the apartment was so small. Xander wondered how much trouble he was going to have tracking Spike down in the mansion.
Just as he suspected, Spike was sitting at the lion's head bar in the kitchen. He had a file with reports and pictures spread out in front of him and he was tapping away at the keyboard of his laptop. "Hey, you still up? It's really late, Babe. Come on, tomorrow's Saturday and you can finish that up later. Come to bed."
Spike rubbed his hands over his face and smiled at the tussled haired man who sat down beside him. His heart warmed each time he looked into Xander's face and read the love that shined for him. "I'm almost finished. It's a simple case but Giles wanted it done before tomorrow. I guess he's getting pressure to wrap it up. Besides, I thought we had packing to do tomorrow. You know as much as I hate to admit it, a separate den for an office will really be great."
Xander chuckled. He knew that admission had to be difficult for his stubborn, bull headed lover. "See, I told you you would love it. Go ahead, I'll keep you company till your report is complete, then we can go to bed together. But I warn you that I plan on having my wicked way with you." Xander waggled his eyebrows dramatically, wringing his hands and giving his best evil chuckle.
"Well, shit then I better hurry. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting." Spike laughed and resumed his tic tic on the keyboard.
Quietly, Xander sifted through the pictures of the scene of the accident in the nursing home. He picked each one up, feeling the sadness that saturated the rooms, the walls, the very air of the nursing home.
It was like that in so many of them. Tired, aged, forgotten souls filled with regret and unhappiness as they wait out their last days knowing there was no more future for them to look to. No plans to make, no excitement of anticipation.
He recognized the photos as ones Spike had taken. Angles and shots of things that were not directly case related, but helped the detective pick up on a detail, a minor tic, that could possibly have been overlooked.
Finally coming to the last pictures, Xander knew by their glossy, professional texture, that these were the official crime scene photos. These were the ones that would be included and sealed in the file when the case closed.
"Spike?"
"Huh?'
"Spike. Stop typing for a minute. We need to talk."
Spike sighed and removed his glasses. "What? What do we need to talk about?"
Xander handed Spike the picture of Myrtle face down in the tub. "This was not an accident, Spike. This lady was killed."
Spike snatched the picture out of Xander's hands and looked at it again as if expecting to see someone in the room, lurking in the shadows. "Shit. Are you sure? Oh, of course you're sure. How do you know? Oh, you just know. Right? Shit. O.k. then. So we have us a homicide."
Spike struggled not to grin.
Part Twelve
Spike jumped up from his bar chair and put on a full kettle for tea. He was only slightly able to suppress the urge to skip and shimmy dance around the tiny kitchen as he retrieved his favorite "Cops Do It With Handcuffs" coffee mug and the tin of good tea bags.
Xander groaned, he knew from past experience that meant neither of them would be getting any more sleep tonight. Only this time he doubted the lack of sleep would include any marathon sucking sessions.
Quickly Spike rushed back to his lover, put his hands on Xander's shoulders and turned him so that they were face to face, noses just inches apart. He shook him roughly and tried not to giggle as Xander's head and hair flopped. He wanted to make sure the psychic was wide awake. He needn't have worried. "Now, Love, look at the picture veeery carefully. Take your time.
Tell me what you see. What did dear, poor, sweet old Myrtle feel at the end of her tragically short cut life?"
Xander frowned, wondering why Spike was talking to him in that slow, clearly enunciated voice that insinuated that Xander was of limited mentality. Xander was tempted to protest. He had heard the term idiot savant. He was not one.
Xander sighed and picked up the two official photos of the victim. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, then opened them and focused on the pictures in front of him. He silently ran his hand over them and let the impressions infuse him. He felt his body temperature rise and his flesh tingle.
Spike stood behind him. He was tempted to shove his cock in Xander's ass, not in a sexual way, just as an attempt to connect. To see what Xander was seeing. He decided it might create a distraction. He made tea instead.
"Not much I can tell you. She felt safe, tired, she had a stomach problem and hadn't been able to eat that day. She was in pain. The hot water helped. She looked forward to the bath. She's confused and doesn't know what happened. She knows she's passed but can't move on. She's at loose ends. She never saw it coming. Whoever it was had sneaked up behind her and held her head under water. She never had time to struggle. She was too weak to fight back."
Xander laid down the pictures. He drew in enough oxygen to fill his lungs to capacity then slowly blew it out his mouth. He shook his hands and flushed all thoughts and impressions from his mind.
Spike had seen Xander do this before and knew he wasn't finished. As he always did when Xander gave a reading, Spike sat to the side silently and wrote down everything Xander said. Like the placards in a game of scrabble, Spike could sort through and rearrange them into a workable solution later.
Picking up the pictures again, Xander tilted his head to the side, seemingly listening to voices only he could hear. "It was a man. He is comfortable here. He is someone that was known to her." Xander shook his head, confused, his brow wrinkled. "I can't feel a motive. He isn't angry. He didn't steal anything from her. He isn't someone who has ever done this type of thing before. I just can't find a reason in him. He's.......blank. There's no anomosity, no feeling for her one way or the other. The only other thing I'm getting that will be important is, and this is really strange, turtle. I get the word turtle."
Xander laid all the paperwork to the side and accepted the steamy offered cup. "Sorry, Spike. I know that doesn't help much. Maybe when you and Faith......"
"NO!. I mean, no, I don't think it's a good idea to talk to her just yet. Besides, that asshole psychiatrist hasn't released me yet. If Giles thinks this is a homicide he'll take it away. Fuck! He'll give it to Angel. No, I think the best thing I can do is work this alone. Low key. Undercover. Once I get close to solving it they'll have to let me finish. Hey, as a bonus it will prove that I'm fit to be back on the job. It's perfect."
Spike was now pacing, his bare feet slapping on the cold tile of the kitchen floor, and mindlessly tapping his finger on his chin.
Xander didn't need his psychic abilities to see Spike's obsessive personality begin to grow. "You aren't going to help me pack today are you?"
"Pack? What the fuck are you.........oh, the house. Sorry, pet, would love to, but poor Myrtle comes first."
Immediately Spike sat back down, sipped his tea and deleted his entire report from the Jarte program on his laptop. He smiled happily and began furiously tapping away. Most of what he put down was, at this point, conjecture and innuendo, but it didn't bother Spike. He knew he could prove it all later.
Xander eased up off his chair and backed away from the lion's head bar. He had hoped, now that Spike's attention was diverted, to be able to go back to bed. Slip in the nest of still warm blankets and let the sandman be his companion tonight. It wasn't like cheating, he would gladly have made it a threesome.
"Long as you're up, pet, do me a favor and put my cell on the charger. Oh, and if you're making breakfast I could go for an egg and toast. Suddenly I'm hungry as.....um, Oh, hungry as.. you. Ha ha."
Xander scowled. How the hell could he be in love with someone like Spike? It just didn't make sense. He was just so obsessive, so work driven, so......everything Xander was not.
Xander wedged himself past Spike in the cramped little kitchen and started breakfast. Suddenly it hit him. "Hey, was that a crack about how much I eat?"
Spike was too far gone to respond.
Xander grinned. "So since you're busy you won't mind if I have friends over to help with the house will you?'
Spike blinked. "Huh? Oh, yeah, good idea, that. You go right ahead."
Xander retrieved a carton of eggs from the fridge and set them by the stove. "If we get a couple of the rooms done, we could move in tonight. Spend our first night in the new place. Have supper in our own dining room. What do you think."
Spike continued typing as rapidly as his fingers would go. He glanced quickly at his notes from Xander's reading and added an extra paragraph, then two. "What? Sorry, Love. Supper? Sure, great, whatever you want to have is fine. Breakfast ready?"
Xander briefly considered that this might be the perfect time to tell Spike about the Circle. No, Spike couldn't possibly be that distracted.
~*~*~*~*~
Dr. Ahn arrived early in his office and was surprised to see he already had three messages on his desk. He took his white lab coat off the hook and slipped it on in exactly the same way he had every morning for the past
twenty-three years.
He was a man of routine. Routine and habit. Routine, habit and superstition. He had learned years ago that diverting from his set pattern angered the gods and caused their wrath to pour down on him in buckets of bad luck and parking tickets. Dr. Ahn did not tempt fate.
After taking the time to check and see if any new bodies had been delivered during the night, he sat down at his desk and checked the post its.
Message one was from Detective Pratt with a call back request.
Message two was from that annoying Mr.Jacobs about his Aunt.
Message three was from Chief Inspector Giles, ref: Mr. Jacobs.
The last two slips of paper immediately found their way into his overflowing trash can. A destination the first message would have also gone except for the fact that he liked the dedicated Detective. He respected him and felt he was being treated unjustly in his delayed return to duty.
Smiling at the thought that he could irritate Inspector Giles and help William Pratt all at the same time, Dr. Ahn picked up his phone.
Part Thirteen
Spike was antsy and twitchy as a cat in a dog show. He had spent the hours since Xander's revelation preparing his briefcase for the upcoming day of investigation, his stomach tied in knots and he was feeling like a rookie assigned to his first big case.
He had made and remade a set of notes to himself, checked the batteries in his camera and made a full list of names and addresses of everyone he had already interviewed, along with notes and impressions of them. He decided he would start with the administrator of the nursing home, a woman who had been unavailable the day before. A woman by the name of Joyce Winters.
He wondered gleefully what her reaction would be to the suggestion that one poor innocent old woman had been brutally murdered while in their care. He was curious to see if she had a clue or if it would come as a complete shock.
Spike had been so thrilled by Xander's revelation he had an overwhelming urge to kiss Myrtle right on the cold, bloodless lips.
If she hadn't been dead. Or old. Part of him was ashamed for feeling so grateful to her for dying, but Spike soothed his guilt by remembering what Xander had told him when they had first met.
He said that everyone has a set number of days on them when they are born and nothing can change that. It's what we do with those days that makes the difference. So really, he reasoned, if someone hadn't helped her along, she would have had a heart attack or stroke or choked on a spoonful of mashed bananas. Something. But apparently her sand had run out and the hour glass was done. So were the days of her life.
"So did you reconsider? You gonna call Faith?"
Spike jerked, startled. He hadn't heard Xander come out of the bedroom but now noticed he was busily putting on the kettle and
starting breakfast. Spike's belly grumbled loudly. It felt like his stomach was rubbing against his back bone. He couldn't tell if it was hunger or nerves.
"No. Can't. If Giles knows this is a homicide he'll take it away from me and give it to someone else. If I can just do this low key until I come up with something concrete I can prove that I'm fit to be back on the job, make that psychiatrist look the fool and as a bonus solve the case. It's a no lose situation. I just need a couple days to fly under the radar."
Xander nodded, he did understand and he knew how important it was to Spike to be back in the saddle. It was like a cowboy without a horse, or a cow, or a six gun. Xander wasn't sure what the analogy was but he knew Spike needed this. "I know you can figure it out. I have faith in you, you're a hell of a cop, Spike."
Spike closed his briefcase and looked up at the young man standing, leaning, arms crossed over his chest, his butt against the sink in the small kitchen. Spike blinked. Xander was breathtaking. Spike knew despite all their differences and conflicts that he was one lucky cop.
Xander grinned, shirtless, with soft flannel sleep pants riding low on his hips and waited for an indication of what was behind that flame in his lover's eyes.
Spike's gaze settled back on the pajamas that were low enough that his eyes could follow the trail of dark, fine hair that wound down over his flat, firm stomach and disappeared below the elastic band.
His eyes skimmed back up and settled on the wonderful, warm loving face. Framed by sleep mussed hair, Xander's brown eyes and gentle, easy smile pulled Spike up out of his chair as though he were a puppet being tugged by the strings.
Moving fluidly around the bar, Spike stopped when he found himself standing toe to toe and nose to nose with the object of his affection. Spike held his palms out, a fraction of an inch from making actual contact with Xander's body. He sighed at the heat he could feel rolling off the boy's skin. He watched as Xander's nipples hardened, still untouched.
Spike ran his hands down, touching nothing but the slight brush of chest hair against his fingertips till he reached the loose fitting waist band of the blue plaid pajama pants.
Xander's body flushed with passion and need as his lover's hands came ever closer to the hot, hard erection that leaked and strained for him. Xander wrapped his strong arms around Spike's waist and pulled him roughly against him.
Leaning forward, Xander sealed his lips possessively against Spike's. The rush of hot air from Xander's nose against Spike's cheek caused him to open his mouth and gasp. Xander immediately deepened the kiss and let his tongue remind Spike what kind of man he was sleeping with. Strong, confident, possessive.
Briefly breaking the kiss, Xander went to work on Spikes' neck, nibbling, nipping and licking from earlobe down to his shoulder pausing only momentarily to whisper low in Spike's ear. "Stroke me, baby. Put your hand in my pants and jack my cock while I
kiss you. Get me nice and hard cause then you're gonna suck me till I pop."
Spike's legs turned to rubber and he quivered with the feeling of the blood settling in his own crotch and causing his balls to lay low and heavy in his pants. His hand immediately did as instructed and he wrapped his cool, slim fingers around the thick, rubbery skin.
The weight and girth of Xander's cock never failed to thrill him, making his hole flex and cringe yet seek out the very thing that brings so much pain, burn and pleasure. Spike's stomach twisted as his bowels craved the intrusion.
Xander's tongue thoroughly explored the interior of Spike's mouth. It licked his tongue, roof, and the backs of Spike's teeth. Spike alternated between brief attempts to challenge back with his own slick tongue, and limply surrendering to the power of the larger man.
With his stiff cock dribbling precum onto Spike's hand, Xander knew he wouldn't take long, he never did first thing in the morning. Wrapping his large, calloused hand around the side of Spike's neck, he pushed down, leaving no doubt what he expected. "Come on, Spike, open wide and let me fuck your mouth. You make me cum quick and I'll do you real good."
Spike whimpered and gracefully sank to his knees. He pulled his hand out of the wet, sticky pants just long enough to tug them down around Xander's ankles. "Yeah, all for me." He leaned in and smeared the bubbles over his closed lips.
He grinned and buried his nose fully into the dense, wiry pubic hair at the base of the monument to the God of penis's and inhaled the smell of last nights sex combined with sweat and musk. It was easily the best smell in the world. At least in Spike's world.
Spike's tongue flattened against Xander's shaft and licked the length till it reached the top where it sucked and stabbed at the slit.
"OH, fuck, yes. Just like that. Stroke me and suck the head. Yeah, this won't take long. Your mouth feels so good. Can't wait till I can do you. Swallow you down and squeeze your cock on my throat. Come on Baby, harder. Finger my balls, finger my........."
Xander's head snapped to the side and his eyes popped open and attempted to focus on the small object on the bar. He knew now if he still wanted to cum in Spike's mouth, he only had seconds. Immediately he held Spike's head while his hips picked up the pace, snapping back and forth as he tried not to hurt his lover.
Within seconds, his body stiffened and went rigid as his cock began twitching, jerking and pumping globs of hot bitter cum into his lovers mouth. Spike was taken off guard at the speed in which Xander came and he struggled to swallow, losing part of it out the corners of his mouth.
Before he had time to fully realize what had happened and prepare for the promised reciprocation, Spike was startled by the first ring of his cell phone. Xander held his shrinking cock out and shook it off watching the final drops hit the hard wood floor. He then tipped his head in the direction of Spike's urgently jangling phone.
"It's for you."
Part Fourteen
Spike was stunned. He was hard and horny as hell, he had cum dripping off his chin, and from the sheepish apologetic
look on his lover's face, Xander knew that phone was going to ring before Spike's turn on the pony ride came around. "You knew that phone was going to ring! That's why you came so fast! Damn! That's cheating!"
"Sorry, babe, but we use what we got." Xander tried to suppress his grin. Not in humor at his lover, but instead because he knew who was on the other end of the still ringing, vibrating cell. He grabbed a paper towel and dabbed his sensitive shrivling cock. "Just answer the damn thing. Hurry up."
Spike stumbled to his feet on cramped, locked knees and threw himself in the direction of the bar, spitting into the sink as he passed. He could smell his own breath bouncing off his cell and resolved to spray it with Lysol later. "Detective Pratt."
"Good morning detective William. This is Doctor Ahn. You left the message for me, yes?"
Spike's brain immediately shifted from deprived teenager to professional lawman and he pressed his hand to his crotch willing it to deflate. His cock was slow in getting the memo. "Yes, good morning Doctor Ahn. Thanks so much for returning my call.
I have a bit of a problem, Doctor and I think you can help me out. As you know, until I complete my psychologicals I can't return to full duty on homicide. In the meantime I'm assigned to clean up work on basic accidents and suicides. Simple interviews and paperwork. Kind of embarrassing but there you are. Anyway, I understand you have a female, an elderly victim
of an accidental drowning there. She probably came in about a day and a half ago."
"Yes, I have her. I gave the body a cursory exam yesterday. Nothing out of the ordinary. Victim had water in the lungs. No signs of struggle, no indication of defensive wounds, no skin cells under her nails. She had advanced stage arthritis in both knees and hands which would have prevented her pulling herself upright to regain her balance when she toppled forward
into the water. I was actually only waiting on your report in order to sign off and release the body."
Spike blew out a sigh of relief. He wasn't too late. There was still time. "Listen, Doc. Can you hold off for another day or so? Maybe just buy me some time? I have reason to believe that this was more than a simple accident but I need a day or so to try to come up with something solid. And, as much as I hate to ask, can we keep this ankle high? You know low key, under the wire? Just between us?"
Akhmed Ahn was delighted. He had been frustrated lately. Stuck in his hum drum life of test tubes and lab coats and wondering if anything new or exciting would ever come his way.
He loved the power and influence of the position of county ME and the big money that came with the job. It was more than a boy growing up in a small village in India could ever have aspired for. But the trade off was the boring life of a basement dweller.
Tucked away from the excitement of the police station and all the active cases going on over top his head, he often wished one of his bodies would jump to life on the table and give his life a startling new twist. Now here it was, tossed in his lap like manna from heaven and he was going to make the most of it.
That, combined with the opportunity to fuck over that prick Jacobs, and this was turning out to be the best morning Ahn had seen in a long time.
"YES! I do it for you William. We will keep just you and me. I tell you what. I say I don' like the way she look and I do the full autopsy. Can no one challenge me and that give you another two days. You like?"
Spike was thrilled. It was exactly what he needed. He was glad he was not in the doctors lab or he may have kissed the little Indian right on the mouth and frankly, till he brushed his teeth, he didn't think that was advisable. "Doc, that's fantastic. I owe you big time."
"No problem, William, we keep this hush hush. We use a code word so nobody knows, yes? I know! Code word is "turtle" it rhymes with Myrtle, victim name. Yes, we be just like Crocker and Tubbs. Yes?"
Spike laughed. There should be a law against unauthorized personnel watching old 1980's tv cop shows. At the same time he was not surprised. When Xander had said "turtle", Spike couldn't imagine how an amphibian could possible figure into this. Now he knew. "That sounds great, Doc. I'll be in touch with you later today and let me know if anything funny turns up in the autopsy. Do you want me to call the next of kin?"
"No! I will do that. I spoke to Mr. Jacobs, her nephew, yesterday and I would like to give him the good news before you interview him."
From the chuckle in the doctor's voice, Spike had the sinking feeling that this was not going to be one of his more cooperative interviews. "Thanks, Doc. I'll be in touch."
"Turtle, William, Turtle."
Spike hung up but couldn't fight back the huge grin. As usual, Xander hit the nail on the head. His new partner, the one that would help aim him in the right direction had just said the key word. It validated the importance of Dr. Ahn's role in this investigation. He was off and running.
He was still salty as hell over the one sided shag, but in a small way this made up for it. A very small way. Minute. Minuscule.
Spike rushed off to brush his teeth, Xander directly behind him. He had a great feeling about this case. It was exactly what Spike needed. He trailed as Spike rinsed, spit, snatched his briefcase, cell phone and darted for the door.
He stopped, turned and gave Xander an extra long good by kiss. "You owe me. And I expect to collect."
Xander laughed and quickly groped Spike's ass. "I'll pay. Hey don't forget I'll be at the new house later today. We'll have dinner there. Won't that be great?"
Spike frowned. He couldn't clutter his brain right now with such unwelcome trivial matters. "Yeah, whatever, love you."
Spike rushed out waving his hand as he sailed down the long stairway to the alley outside, calling back. "I'll phone you. I might be late."
Xander watched till he was sure Spike was long gone, out of sight and on his way. He then darted back in to the tiny apartment and gleefully snatched up his phone.
Tapping his foot impatiently he waited till he heard it picked up. "Hi, yeah, it's me. I got the house. Yeah, I know. I can't wait
till you and the rest see it. It's absolutly perfect. No, I didn't tell him yet, it's complicated. Things have been rough for him lately. Hey! That's unfair. O.k. O.k, look we can talk about it later. Go ahead and call the others. I'll meet you all at the house in about an hour. No. No. Don't bring anything like that. I don't want Spike to suspect anything. Good. Good. See you there. Bye."
Xander hung up and danced toward the shower.
Part Fifteen
|
STATE OF CALIFORNIA |
Spike had pulled into the back lot of a truck stop and parked his tiny Corvette between a Budwieser delivery truck and an 18 wheeler hauling Kotex. Using his laptop he quickly typed up the transcript, repeatedly snapping the on and off button of the recorder to assure his accuracy.
There was still nothing suspicious about the direction of his investigation but he couldn't risk the curiosity of one of those chatty birds in the transcript pool. They were the very ones that had announced to the entire station house that Angel had a good eight inches and a mole on his inner thigh. Facts that Spike himself could attest to, but didn't.
No, when it came to secrecy, discretion was apparently one word those ladies could not transcribe. Besides, he wasn't that far removed from his rookie days when an officer was responsible for all his own paperwork. He could easily handle this.
Spike checked his watch and wondered briefly what Xander was doing today. It seemed to him that Xander had said he had something planned, but Spike had been too preoccupied to remember what.
He snapped shut his laptop and started the car with a smile on his face. According to his calculations, Mark Jacobs business address was about an hour's drive but he wanted to get there, hopefully in time to catch the man while he was still peeved about the delay in the closing of the case.
A person gave away a lot about his true personality when he was mad. Spike was on the verge of humming a happy tune as he considered that this was turning into a truly successful day. He couldn't conceive what could possibly go wrong.
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