Disclaimer: None are mine, but I wish they were. BtVS and A:TS belong to Joss. Law & Order belong to Wolf. I promise to return them when I am done although I'm thinking Angel and Logan may be a little late.
Distribution: BBA
Rating: PG-13
Category: Crossover
Key Couple: S/X W/A
Summary: Trouble finds Xander in New York
Dedicated to Kylia who helped me decided how to write this puppy because she knows how I think.
Feedback is loved, adored and needed to keep B/A B/R demons at bay.
Author's Note: Okay, just to let you know how I am writing this. There will be two very distinct writing styles since these are two very distinct shows.
What does this mean. This means for every part, you get a part a and b. A will always be seen through the eyes of someone watching Law & Order, which means that it will go through the investigation and then the trial as seen through the eyes of those characters. Part B will be based upon what is going on with the characters from Buffy and Angel. If this is confusing, just let me know. *G* It was the best way that I could think of in combining the two shows.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The criminal justice system is divided into two separate, yet equal parts.
The police that investigate crimes and the District Attorneys office that prosecutes the offenders. These are there stories.
"So I was telling her that my mom always insisted on spending the holidays with her and she completely blew up," the one cop said to his partner as they sat in the patrol car. "I mean, she went off saying that since it was out first holiday together since we got the house, that we should be allowed to host the meals. Like I really want my family traipsing around the place."
"So did she give in?"
"Hell no. She's been bitching and complaining every since. Even's gone so far as to make me sleep on the couch until I do what she wants me too."
"And people wonder why I don't get married. I'm telling ya, just keep them as your girlfriend and everything's fine. Tired of the fights, just dump em and move on."
"Yeah and bitch to your buddies how you can't get any." A crash from the alley near them drew their attention. When they heard another one, they got out of their car and went over to investigate it.
They approached the alley quickly and quietly as they heard the sounds of a fight. Both officers drew their guns, knowing that their quiet Monday night was just about to get a little noisier. The one officer signaled for his partner to go to the other end of the alley, which he did so quickly. They both looked down the darkened area and could see two men fighting. There was a third man on the ground not moving. The cautiously began to approach the two fighters.
"Freeze police." The two men looked over at the officers before both fled the scene. The officers gave chase, each one going after a different perpetrator. The younger of the two men, went after the man that had climbed up the fire escape. He followed him up to the top of the building, only to find that once there, the man had disappeared. His partner chased down the other person, finally losing him among a crowded near a popular nightclub in the area. Both officers went back to the alleyway and checked on the third man.
Ten minutes later.
"Figures we had to get the call now. I had tickets to tonight's Knicks game," Lenny Briscoe said. Front row, center."
"How the hell did you manage to get them?" His partner, Mike Logan asked.
"Remember that woman at the airlines last week." Logan grinned as he recalled the gorgeous red head that had been eyeing up his partner. "Let's just say, she liked the service she receive."
"Oh, you're bad." The two partners made their way to the crime scene. The approached the two officers that had stumbled across the fight. "Okay, so what happened?"
"We were over in our car when we heard a crash," the first cop said. "We came over to investigate it and saw two men fighting and the third on the ground. We gave chase but the other two escaped."
"Did you get a look at them?" Briscoe questioned.
"One was about six foot or so. Black hair. Black clothes. His face was strange. Disfigured somehow."
"What do you mean disfigured," Logan inquired, trying to get more information out of the beat cop.
"Like he had ridges in his head." The one cop looked at his partner for confirmation. "And his eyes were glowing."
"Glowing," Logan repeated. "Disfigured face and glowing eyes. Should be easy to pick out of a line up. What about the other guy?"
"Pretty normal looking," the cop who had chased the man down said. "About 5 feet 10. Brown hair. He looked like a teenager. He had on a pair of blue jeans and a leather jacket."
"So did you happen to see which way either one of these guys happen to head?" Briscoe asked, already knowing that his Knicks tickets were about to be waster yet again.
"Yeah, mine was heading towards Central Park on Fifth," the one cop said, meaning the disfigured man.
"The other looked like he was heading towards Times Square."
"Great, my favorite places to look." Lenny quipped before he and Logan walked over to the ME.
"Meet Christopher Michaels," the ME said as he handed Briscoe the man's wallet. "Age 27 and one of our city's favorite types of victim."
"Out of towner?"
"All the way from Nashville Tennessee," the ME answered.
"What can you tell us?' Logan asked.
"Well, I can't give you anything official until I get him back to the lab, but it appears that Mr. Michaels here died of blood loss."
"From what, a gunshot wound?" Briscoe inquired as he bent down to examine the body.
"No evidence of an entry or exit wound that would be present with a gunshot, The only thing we've found so far is two small puncture marks in the man's neck."
"Puncture marks?" The ME Showed Briscoe and Logan the marks. "What in the world could have caused that?"
"Who knows. Stun gun. Weird knife. Barbecue fork. But it appears that this is where the man bleed to death."
"So, if he bleed to death, where's the blood?" Logan asked as he indicated the dried pavement around the body. "What, was the attacker a vampire?"
"Don't know. That's why your the detectives." The ME then closed up the body bag. Logan and Briscoe stood up.
"Don't you just love Halloween time?"
End Part 1
Briscoe and Logan walked into their lieutenant's office to give a report of the crime scene that they had just gone over. They had been on sight for a little over two hours and were not happy about what they had discovered, which had been very little. They were still waiting for the ME's report as to exact cause of death and knew that there was a good chance that this would go done as another one of New York's unsolved murders.
"So, what did you find?" Lieutenant Anita Van Buren asked. She was an imposing woman, despite her small stature, and the detectives under her knew just how far they could go before she would begin to bite back. It was generally accepted around the squad room, though, that Briscoe and Logan often got away with just a little bit more because of their arrest record.
"Not a whole lot, lieutenant," admitted Logan. "No discernable weapon of any kind in the alley. No blood of any kind, which indicates that its possible the body was moved."
"A busted mugging?"
"The vic had about eight hundred cash, plus multiple credit cards," Briscoe answered. "If it was a mugging, the perp didn't get anything."
"What about witnesses?"
"There aren't any," Logan replied. "That time of night, in that neighborhood, the only thing people saw was the late night movie."
"I like the late movie," Van Buren commented. "Well, do we at least know why he was there? It's not like that is an area populated by tourists."
"We did find a date book in with his personal belongings that indicated that he was supposed to meet someone by the name of X. Harris at that location, but it doesn't say why," Briscoe informed her. "We're looking for him now, but it's tough since we don't have a first name."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, we found a strange book with his stuff." Logan flipped open his notebook. "Demons, Vampires and the Hellmouth."
"Doesn't sound exactly like light reading," Van Buren observed.
"I took a look through it and it isn't," Logan told her. "I mean, whoever wrote this thing actually thinks that demons and vampires are real. There is mention of numerous ways of killing them, and descriptions of battles between vampires and someone called a," Again Logan referred to his notebook. "Slayer. Supposedly this Slayer is able to defeat vampires and demons." Van Buren looked over at Logan, her disbelief clearly evident on her face.
"So, what, this guy was a vampire freak. Call Anne Rice," she commented sarcastically. "That's not exactly going to help you solve this case."
"Well, it just might," Logan continued. "According to the ME last night, the body seemed to have been drained of blood and yet there were not evident signs of a stabbing or shooting. All there was were what appeared to be two pricks in his neck." Logan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
"Sure sounds like a vampire to me."
"Yeah and the next thing you're going to say is that the Easter Bunny was hiding in the grassy knoll in Dallas," snorted Briscoe, earning himself a smile from his lieutenant and a roll of the eyes from his partner.
"I'm not saying an actual vampire did this. I'm just saying that maybe some freak that thought he was a vampire," the younger detective elaborated.
"You never know what some crack head thinks anymore. One minute they think they're a vampire, the next they think they're Clinton."
"Hopefully with better taste," Briscoe said dryly, again earning himself a chuckle from Van Buren.
"Did you get a better description of the two guys that were running from the scene from those beat cops?" This time it was Briscoe who went to his notes.
"Well, the first cop said that the guy he was chasing was tall with dark hair. He did mention that the guy's face was disfigured somehow, but he couldn't describe how. According to him, the perp was pretty quick. I mean, the cop wasn't that far away from him and yet he lost him in no time.
And the other perp was apparently a teenager. White. Basic teen clothes. Blue jeans. Leather jacket. He had dark hair too. The guys from the two five didn't get a good look at his face though, either, so we are basically left with nothing."
"What about his family? Have they been notified? Maybe they know who this Harris is."
"The only family he has was his sister and she has no idea who Michaels might have been meeting," Logan said. "She didn't even know that he was in New York. The last time she talked to him was a week ago and, according to her, he had been planning on traveling to California. She gave us the number of an associate of his though that might be able to help us, but so far, we haven't been able to locate him."
"Well, let me know as soon as something comes up. I don't like the idea of some freak out there that's draining people's blood," Van Buren commented. Logan and Briscoe both stood and walked out of Van Buren's office to head to the ME's office to see if he had come up with anything.
"So what you're saying is that you can't tell us why this guy died," Logan said, looking over at the ME. He and Briscoe had just walked in to see if they had come up with anything in regards to how Michael's might have died, but all the ME was saying was that he couldn't tell them.
"Oh I can tell you why he's dead," the woman told him. "I just can't tell you how." She went over to the file cabinet and pulled out the file on the man that had been brought in the night before. "Michaels, Christopher. Age 27. Relative good health. Cause of death. Extreme blood loss."
"Any explanation on where the blood might have gone?" Briscoe probed. The medical examiner shook her head.
"There were no gun shot wounds, or holes from a knife that would indicate a wound serious enough to completely drain the vic," she informed them. "The only thing we found were those two holes in the side of his neck."
"So what, you're saying someone pricked this guy in the neck and drained him," Logan asked.
"Wouldn't exactly be the first time I've ever seen it." Logan and Briscoe looked at her in surprise.
"You've seen this before?" The ME nodded her head.
"Twice. One was a sixty four year old women. The other was a fourteen year old runaway male. Both had been bleed completely dry, yet there were no signs as to how the blood was removed, other than two pricks in the neck."
"Great, so we have a serial murderer that likes to think of himself as a vampire," Logan sighed. "Just when I thought this city couldn't get any weirder."
~~~~~~~
"Xander, luv, what happened?" A concerned Spike asked when he saw his lover rush into their hotel suite. Xander looked as if he had just run the Boston Marathon in record time, his breath coming in short, ragged spurts.
The teenager's clothes were torn and his lips was bleeding.
"Michaels is dead," Xander announced. Spike was instantly at the boy's side, helping him over to the couch in the middle of the room.
"How?"
"Vampire," was the single word answer. "He was just finishing draining him when I arrived. Guess he was still hungry since he decided that I would make a good dessert." Despite the attempt at levity, Spike could see how scared Xander was at the thought of what could have happened. A growl rumbled through the blonde's chest at the thought of any harm coming to the human that he had claimed. Especially at the hands of another vampire.
"I take it you didn't go down easily," Spike commented as he ran his hand over the blood that was still forming on Xander's lips, which quirked up into a smile.
"You could say that. Living with a master vampire does have its certain advantages," Xander joked. Spike smirked at his lover, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Other than that, although that is my personal favorite." The blonde vampire leaned down and gave Xander a soft kiss, but Xander still winced from the pain that the pressure caused on his lip. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"It's all right pet. Let me go get something to clean that up." Spike went into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. Wetting it with water, he brought it out and began to wipe at the drying blood, checking to make sure that there wasn't more damage to the boy. "I'm just glad that you're okay. What about that vamp?"
"Don't know," came the answer as Xander winced back from the pain. "Couple of cops showed up while we were fighting and we took off. Didn't think it would be beneficial to my freedom if I stuck around and tried to explain what I was doing in a dark alley, late at night, with a deep body a few feet away from me. Somehow trying to explain that a vampire was the killer just didn't seem all that prudent to me."
"I can see your point," Spike agreed. "Did they see you?" Xander shrugged.
"Don't know. I think one of the cops started chasing me but I lost him. Years of practice. I don't know how good a description they got of me, but it was dark and there weren't really any lights around the alley," Xander explained. Spike accepted Xander's comment for what it was worth, just happy to see the boy okay after the fight.
"Well, come on then, let's get you out of these clothes," Spike suggested,
"and cleaned up."
"You just want to get me out of these clothes," Xander teased, causing both men to chuckle. Xander grasped his ribs as he laughed. "Note to self. Laughing hurts." Spike looked at the dark haired youth in concern. His hands went to Xander's side and tentatively probe the area around the boy's ribs, noticing that a few of them appeared to be broken.
"Damn," he swore. "Looks like you've got at least two, possibly three ribs broken. We've got to get you to a hospital so that they can fix you up." Spike tried to get Xander to move up from the couch, but he refused to budge.
"No hospital Spike," he told him. "They'll ask too many questions. We can just tape them up here and they'll be fine." Xander saw the look of worry on the blonde's face and cupped his cheek with his hand. "I'll be fine, I promise."
Spike looked into Xander's eyes and could see that he would not allow himself to be persuaded. He muttered something under his breath and went to the bedroom to get the emergency medical kit that they had taken to carry with them at all times, whether they thought they needed it or not.
He took out some gauze and some bandages and brought them back into the living area. When he got back in, he had found that Xander had already removed his shirt and Spike had to marvel at his lover's body. He still couldn't believe that he, William the Bloody, one of the most feared vampire's in history had fallen in love with a human teenager. And not just any teenager, but one of the best friend's of the Slayer. And the kicker was, he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, including the opportunity to have the damn implant that was in his head removed.
"Spike, my ribs aren't going to heal any better if your eyes keep boring into them," Xander teased lightly, bringing Spike out of his lust filled daze. Spike came over and Xander stood facing him. The vampire began to wrap the gauze around Xander's waist, applying just the right amount of pressure to hold his ribs in securely.
"So did you get the book?" Spike asked, remembering the reason they had come to New York in the first place. Giles had asked Xander if he would meet a friend of his in New York and pick up some book that was supposed to tell about some demon that was supposed to surface in Sunnydale next year.
Spike decided to go with him, the two men telling the others that it was just for a change of scenery. Giles, Buffy and Riley didn't care, actually glad that Spike was going to be out of town. Even though he couldn't hurt humans anymore, they still weren't able to get over their distrust of the vampire, no matter how many times he had helped them, even saving all of their lives at one time. Once it was agreed that Spike and Xander would go to New York City, the couple had decided to make it into a vacation. It was supposed to be their first time truly alone together. Well, other than a short visit with Spike's sire and his mate. Apparently, though, those plans quite possibly were about to be changed.
"No,"Xander shook his head. "I didn't have time. The vamp was there and as soon as I arrived, he was on me. Then the cops showed up and I took off. The only thing I can think of is that either they left it there in the alley, which I doubt, or it's sitting in some evidence locker at the police station, which is very likely."
"Bloody hell, now what are we supposed to do?"
"I don't know and I'm not sure that the cops are going to come knocking on our door," Xander informed the vampire. "I mean, they're going to be able to trace Michaels and there's a good chance that somebody knew that he was supposed to come and meet me. They might have a few questions to ask me."
"SO you think the cops are going to come here?" Spike asked. "Bugger that. Let's just leave then."
"We can't. We still need to find a way to get that book," Xander reminded the vampire. "We're going to need it if we want to keep the Earth turning next year." Spike again swore under his breathe, hating that Xander was right and that there was nothing he could do about it. He looked over at the phone, distastefully as he thought about what he had to do. He hated that he had to resort to this, having sworn to never again ask for help. Xander could see the look on Spike's face and knew what the blonde was thinking.
"You don't have to, you know." Spike nodded his head grimly.
"I know, but if we want to make sure that we get that damn book back, and keep you from getting arrested if the cops come looking for you, I don't see any other bloody choice but to call the wanker." Xander nodded, knowing what his mate was going through. He knew how proud Spike was, and for the blonde vampire to admit that he needed anyone's help was difficult for him to do. Xander watched as Spike came to a decision. He looked on as Spike walked over to the phone and rang up the front desk.
"I want an outside line."
"Yeah to the Four Seasons, Manhattan."
"Room five two three please."
"Hey Red, is he there?"
"Put him on."
"Yeah, Peaches, we've got a problem."
End Part 2
"Hey Mike, Count Drac called. He said he wanted to confess to the Michael's case," a detective joked as Logan made his way into the precinct.
"Hey, bite me Prafaci," Logan retorted.
"I would believe that's what the perp was planning," Profaci laughed.
Logan shook his head at his fellow detective and made his way to his desk, Briscoe already at his.
"You know Lenny, I'm really beginning to hate Halloween," Logan groaned as he sat down. Brisoce handed his partner a cup of coffee.
"You have to admit, all the interesting cases tend to happen around this time of year," Briscoe reminded his partner.
"Well, this is one case I just want to solve and get it over with," Logan said testily, just as his phone rang. "Logan."
"Yes, this is Rupert Giles. I'm returning your phone call," The man on the other end explained. Logan could hear the trace of a British accent in the man's voice, along with some caution.
"Oh yes, thank you for returning my call so promptly, Mr. Giles," Logan replied. "I understand that you are an acquaintance of Christopher Michaels."
"Yes, Chris and I have done some business over the years. Has something happened to him?" There was genuine concern in Giles' voice.
"Unfortunately Mr. Michaels was killed two nights ago."
"My God," Giles exclaimed. "Do you have any clues as to what happened or who would do such a thing?"
"According to the ME, the cause of death was lose of blood."
"Was he stabbed?" Giles inquired.
"No, no stab wounds. Only two punctures in his neck."
"That's interesting," the Englishman stated. There was something in his voice that instantly put Mike on alert. Something that said that things weren't right.
" How long did you know Mr. Michaels?"
"I've known him for about ten years. I met him in England when I was working for the British Museum. He had some pieces that he thought we would be interested in," Giles explained. "We talked and became friends."
"According to his sister, he was supposed to be visiting you in California this week," Logan pried. He wanted to get a better idea of what the man on the other end of the line was like, having a feeling that he knew more than what he was saying.
"Yes," Giles answered. "We hadn't seen each other in a few months and he had some time off from work so I had suggested that he come out for a visit.
He was supposed to arrive a couple of days ago but he never did."
"Didn't you think that was strange, he's not arriving?" Logan pushed.
"Not really," Giles told him. "Chris often changed his plans without informing anyone."
"Do you have any idea as to why he was in New York?"
"None. Except maybe that he had never been there before or that some kind of business had come up."
"Do you know anyone by the name of an X. Harris?" A pause was felt on the other end of the line.
"X.Harris? No, I'm sorry. I don't know anyone by that name."
"Thank you for your co-operation Mr. Giles. If I have anymore questions I'll get back to you." Mike said as he realized he had gotten everything out of the other man as he would. At least over the phone. Logan hung up the phone and faced his partner who was waiting to hear what the other man had said.
"So what did he have to say?"
"According to one Rupert Giles, Michaels was supposed to arrive in Sunnydale California last week, but he never showed," Logan read off of his notes. "He figured that Michaels had just changed his mind. Apparently he does that often." Briscoe looked over at the younger detective, recognizing the tone that had appeared in his voice.
"But there's something bothering you?"
"Yeah," Logan nodded his head. "I got the impression that Mr. Giles wasn't telling me everything. And he wasn't exactly surprised to hear about the cause of death or the puncture wounds."
:You think he might have had something to do with the murder?" Briscoe inquired.
"I think it would be worth our while to find out where Mr. Giles was when Michaels' was killed," Logan inferred.
"Did he have any idea who Harris is?"
"That's another thing. When I mentioned that name, he seemed to stumble over his answer before saying he had no idea," Logan continued. "Somethings not adding up right in this whole thing. We have no one who knew that Michaels was in New York instead of California. No motive. No apparent weapon. Nothing."
"Maybe we should call in Mulder and Scully," Briscoe joked. Logan didn't even bother trying to reply to that.
"So, did you have any luck locating X.Harris?" He asked his partner.
"Believe it or not, there are no X. Harris' in the five boroughs," Lenny replied. "Looks like the X could be just something used to signify a first name. Like that whole 'put your x on the dotted line." Logan shook his head.
"I don't know. I think its the first name."
"Lenny, Mike, in my office," Van Buren ordered. Logan and Briscoe looked at each other, wondering what was up. They headed into their Lieutenant's office where she was seated across from another gentleman. "Mike, Lenny, I want you to meet Joseph St. John. Mr. St. John, Detectives Logan and Briscoe. They're the detectives in charge of the Michael's case."
"How do you do?" The man said and, again, Mike noticed a British accent. He began to wonder how Michaels had become so involved with the Brits.
"Mike, Lenny, it seems Mr. St. John may know who are mysterious Mr Harris is," Van Buren explained. St. John suddenly had the two detectives complete attention.
"And who is he?"
"His name is Xander Harris, short for Alexander and he is staying at the Four Seasons hotel."
~~~~~~
Spike answered the door and let in his sire and his mate. Willow gave Spike a quick kiss on the cheek as she entered the door. "Where is he?" She asked. Spike pointed towards the back bedroom and Willow quickly went to go check on her friend. The blonde vampire led Angel over to the couch in the middle of the room.
"How's he doing?" Angel questioned. He knew how much the teenage boy meant to his childe and could see how upset Spike was at the thought of Xander being hurt.
"He's got a couple of broken ribs," Spike explained. "And he refuses to go to the hospital because they have a tendency of asking too many questions. His lips is swollen and his gonna have one hell of a shiner. But, he says he's going to be fine and I have to believe him."
"He's tough, Spike. Tougher than he should need to be. He'll make it fine, Angel reassured the blonde.
"I know, I just hate that this had to happen to him. This was just supposed to be an easy pick up job and then a little vacation for the two of us," Spike sighed. "Now this happens."
"Why don't you head back to Sunnydale," Angel suggested. He knew how much the time away from Sunnydale had meant to both Spike and Xander and felt sorry that there vacation had apparently turned into work. But he also knew that the two of them might be better off in Sunnydale where they at least knew the territory and what came with it.
"He won't hear of it," Spike swore. "I already tried to talk him into hopping the first plane back but he refused. The brat keeps insisting that we get that book back somehow, even if its in some bloody evidence drawer at the police station."
"Its important," Xander said, standing in the bedroom door, Willow right behind him. Spike was by the youth's side in three quick strides, supporting Xander's weight. He helped his lover over to the couch, which had been vacated by Angel to make room for the injured boy.
"How are you doing, Xander?" Angel questioned once he noticed that he had gotten comfortable on the couch.
"Well, I don't feel like I'll be able to tap dance anytime soon," Xander quipped. "But, other than that, I'll be fine. I just wish Spike would believe that."
"Pet, you know I just don't want anything to happen to you," Spike said. He sat beside Xander, taking him into his arms and pulling him gently against his chest.
"Spike, it was a vampire attack," Xander simply stated. "They happen all the time, you should know that. This was no different. Do you honestly think I would be safer in Sunnydale. Remember, home of the Hellmouth?"
"Xander, luv, what are the odds that a vampire just happened to attack the man who you were supposed to meet?"
"As much as I hate to admit it, Xander, Spike is right," Angel agreed. "They're are over eight million people in this city. It has to be more than coincidence that a vampire attacked Michaels. Somehow, someone must have found out about the meeting and wanted him, or you, or both, dead. And the fact that you are still alive and that they probably don't have the book just means that you may still be a target."
"Gee, make a guy feel better why don't ya," Xander quipped, all the while Spike could feel the boy shiver at the thought that someone might want to harm him. Spike's demon threatened to come out at the mere idea that someone might decide to attack his lover. "Look, guys, thanks for your concern, but I'll be fine. What do you want me to do? Hide in my room for the rest of my life?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," Spike mumbled. Xander elbowed the blonde in the ribs. "Oomphh, that hurt luv."
"Whatever," Xander rolled his eyes at the put upon expression on the vampire's face.
"But, Xan, what if the cops find out about you?" Willow asked, concerned about her best friend. She didn't want to see anything happen to him, not only because of what that would do to Spike, but because he was her only connection to life back in Sunnydale now that Buffy had declared Willow persona non gratis because of her mating to Angel. And he was her best friend. The two of them had been through hell and back, literally, and she didn't know what she would do if he wasn't around anymore.
"How are they going to find me?" He questioned. "It isn't like I stuck around to chat with them. The alley was too dark for them to get a good look at me and there weren't any witnesses that I saw. Besides, even if they did find me, I didn't do anything. And this isn't LA, so I don't think I would have to worry about them trying to frame me. And we still need that book for Giles."
"Screw the damn -book," Spike snarled. "I'm more concerned with you, and I would bet so would the bloody watcher if he knew what had happened. No book is worth your life."
"Will you stop worrying," Xander ordered his mate. "Geez, for a one hundred plus vampire, you sure are a worry wort."
"That's because you are usually giving me just cause to worry," Spike pointed out.
"Guys, look, I'm fine, I promise. Lets just concentrate on getting that book back and go from there," Xander pleaded with his friends. "This was supposed to be out vacation, don't let this ruin it." Xander watched as his friends silently began to agree with him. He was glad. As serious as the situation was, he knew it wasn't the first time the group's plans had been interrupted due to some conflict that arose, and he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last. Just as he was about to make a suggestion as to what the group could do, the phone rang. Spike reached behind him and grabbed it.
"Allo."
"Spike, put Xander on the phone," Giles demanded not even bothering with any pleasantries. Spike handed his mate the phone.
"Its the Watcher, pet. He wants to talk to you." Xander took the phone from Spike.
"Hey, G-man, what's up?"
"Xander, I just spoke to a Detective Mike Logan from New York Homicide. He said that Chris was killed." Xander nodded his head before he remembered that Giles couldn't see that.
"Yeah. There was a vamp there when I arrived for the meet. He had already killed the guy before I could do anything. I'm sorry."
"I had a feeling that it was a vampire when Logan described the cause of death. Blood loss and no apparent wounds except for two holes."
"Yeah, sounds familiar," Xander quipped. "So how did they find out about you?"
"I don't know," Giles responded. "The only thing I can think of is that Chris must have told someone that he was coming out to see me. They wanted to know if I knew why he was in New York instead of California."
"What did you tell them?"
"I told them that I had no idea," Giles informed his young charge. "I said that Chris tended to change his mind about things without telling anyone. But there's something else that I think you should know."
"What?" Spike could feel his lover grow stiff at whatever the Watcher had just told him.
"They asked me if I knew who X. Harris was."
"X. Harris? Oh shit."
"Exactly. I told them I didn't know who it was but I don't think he believed me. I would suggest you return to Sunnydale as soon as possible."
"Now you sound like Spike," Xander told the Watcher. "He wants me to return to Sunnydale too."
"For once, I agree with him." Xander sighed as he realized that maybe it would be for the best if they returned home. "Fine, we'll be on the first flight we can catch that won't turn Spike to dust."
"I'll see you when you get back." Xander hung up the phone and turned to face his friends.
"Looks like we're going home."
End Part 3
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