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BtVS/Veronica Mars crossover fic for |
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Murder at the Neptune Express
by
Cordelianne
Part One
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
Spike snorted. “Course you do.”
Xander craned his neck to see the ocean – it was nice to be on this coast again, kinda comforting even – but it was too dark to see the water.
“Couldn’t resist the Star Wars reference.” Spike rolled his eyes but Xander continued undaunted, “I just thought one of us should state the obvious, you know, that heading to a town just 50 miles from the crater that is now my hometown doesn’t bode well.”
“Good thing you’re here with me.” Spike opened his window a crack, and tossed his cigarette out. “What would I do without someone to state the obvious?”
“Hey! You’re here with me.” Xander turned on the radio. The newest Christina Aguilera song blasted through the speakers. He started bopping his head along with the (admittedly catchy) beat.
“Just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean I’m listening to this shit.” Spike reached for the tuner.
Xander lunged, got there first and batted the pale hand away. “This is the Neptune radio station. I want to hear if there’ve been any more attacks.”
“Volume.”
“Oh!” Xander turned it down so only faint strains could be heard.
Spike was tapping along to the song on the steering wheel. Xander jerked his gaze out the window to hide his grin. There was no point calling him on it, Spike would just deny it. Spike would deny bleaching his hair if the mood struck him. And with a straight face, too.
A motorcycle passed them, its light flooding the car for a moment. It was really dark here, like they were in a Film Noir.
“Nice bike,” Spike said as it disappeared around a bend in the road.
Xander nodded and pretended he was cool enough to tell if a bike was nice or not.
Three more bikes passed them in quick succession.
“It’s like a motorcycle gang,” Xander said.
Eight more bikes went by.
“Not like, it is a gang.” Spike’s gaze was fixed on the rearview mirror.
“I’m happy as long as they’re not into rampaging and destroying vulnerable towns. Once was enough excitement.” Xander eyed the last couple of bikes that’d sped by them. His good – and only – eye caught Spike smiling. “Don’t tell me you’re reminiscing fondly on violent days of yore. Isn’t your soul supposed to stop that?”
“Nothing wrong with a little …”
Xander waited for Spike to continue, but he turned the radio up instead.
“–sixteenth person killed. And with five women under 25 missing, the citizens of Neptune are demanding to know what action is being taken. Sheriff Lamb addressed those concerns at a press conference this evening: We’re investigating a number of angles. As a precaution all young women should stay inside after dark, only going outside with a male escort –”
“Yeah, two meals for the price of one,” Spike interjected.
“– The suspicious marks on the victim’s necks are suggesting cult or gang activity which we’re looking into. That’s all.”
“What an asshole.”
“It’s not like the police are ever equipped to fight vampires,” Xander said.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s an asshole, I can tell.” Spike punched the radio power button to ‘off.’
Xander thought about it. “You’re probably right.”
“Course I am.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” Xander patted Spike’s upper thigh. “C’mon, let’s find this motel.” He fumbled with some sheets of paper. “Camelot Motel. Sounds good.”
~*~*~*~*~
“This is not good.”
Xander frowned at the faded wallpaper and scanned the room. There was only one of everything: one uneven-looking bed, one ripped armchair, one stained round table. At least it had a television. A working one. He gave thanks to the gods of TV as he watched a weatherman drone about low fronts.
“I’ve seen worse.” Spike dropped their duffel bag on the small table and flopped onto the bed, his boots resting on the covers.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Xander closed the curtains against the impending daylight. “Maybe we should take advantage of the last few hours of night to check out the town.”
Spike pouted.
Even though Xander knew it was totally put on, it was a hard look to resist.
“We finally have time together, just the two of us. No slayers underfoot or Dawns for you to worry about corrupting.” Spike shifted and Xander caught a glimpse of very white – and very appealing – abs.
“Uh.”
“You have me all to yourself and you’d rather play Hardy Boys than fuck me?”
Xander’s brain abandoned him. Fortunately his dick got him to the bed.
Spike took it from there, yanking him down and making with the focus-stealing smoochies.
Xander pressed Spike’s hands above his head and ground against him. He kissed up Spike’s neck.
“You said something about me fucking you?” Xander breathed into Spike’s ear. Spike nodded and gasped as Xander bit his neck.
“Let’s see what we can do about that.”
Part Two
“What do you see?”
“Why would I be able to see what’s happening any better than you?” Spike gave Xander one of his You’re an idiot looks. “I’m standing right beside you. It’s not like I’m taller than you.”
“Can’t you do your super-vampy-seeing-at-night thing?” Xander leaned towards Spike in an attempt to see beyond the flashing lights and cop cars.
“Excuse me?” Spike gestured to his jeans. “Do these look like tights to you? I’m a vampire, not Superman.”
“Actually Superman can see through things, not …” At Spike’s bored look Xander decided not to bother with the finer points of comic book mythology. That’s what Andrew was for. Well, that and being annoying, but at least he had someone to geek out with. “So how do you propose we get the info? Should we dress up as cops? Or maybe FBI agents?”
“That’s it. No more all-day sex, no sleep for you. You’ve clearly fucked your brain out.” Spike was groping him in such a distracting way that Xander couldn’t care enough to object to the statement.
“There’ll be time for dress up later. For now let’s just ask around.” Spike slapped Xander’s ass, and headed over to a deputy with slicked hair and a moustache who was leaning against a squad car. After a minute he realized that Spike was actually flirting with the guy.
Dammit, he wasn’t in the mood to watch his boyfriend flirt – although Spike wasn’t really his boyfriend, was he? It’s not like they’d ever called each other that. Mostly they just had sex.
Good sex.
Very good sex.
Talking was over-rated, Xander decided. Who needed big emotional declarations when you could get regular mind-blowing blowjobs, and more, from a recorporealized vampire?
Okay, he so needed to be thinking of something besides sex. Right, crime scene. He was supposed to be investigating. Across the street a tiny blonde girl was leaning against a car, camera in hand, staring intently at the lit-up house.
When he approached, her hand flew to her bag and he flashed on Buffy, half expecting the girl to whip out a stake. He reminded himself that after the whole crazy slayer escape incident they’d run enough Slayer-seeking spells to find every last girl. Whatever she had in her bag, it wasn’t a stake, but he was still a little intimidated.
“Pretty scary, huh?” Xander said. “And here I thought this was a safe town.”
“You must be new.” The girl’s hand didn’t leave her bag. “The owner of this house is in jail for murdering a teenage girl, and his son was just acquitted on charges of murdering a member of the local bike gang. More Mansons than Cleavers here.”
“Intense family.” Xander nodded at the house. “Do you know them?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You must be a reporter.”
“Me? Nope.” Xander flashed her a smile and flailed around his brain for a plausible story. “I’m visiting. Actually I’m checking out the town cause I’m considering moving here.”
“My advice: don’t.” She got into her car and started the engine. She leaned out the window. “Neptune’s no Mayberry.”
“Compared to Sunnydale it doesn’t seem that bad,” Xander mumbled as she drove off.
~*~*~*~*~
“She’s missing girl number six. No body’s turned up yet.” Spike took a swig of beer and propped his feet on Xander’s side of the booth in one of Neptune’s only non-swanky bars.
“But she may still be alive, which would be good.” Xander had a déjà vu moment, and wondered if he’d be muttering that over and over in the nursing home one day, scaring the other patients. Life sucked sometimes.
“Good? All these years with me ‘n’ Angel’s given you the wrong impression. Vampires don’t normally sleep with humans, we kill them. It’s a whole thing.”
Yep, life could really suck. And with vampires involved, the sucking happened on many levels.
“You know, I have learned some things in my nine years of fighting demons.”
Spike raised an eyebrow.
Xander pretended not to notice. “And one of those things is that if we try, we can save people. Maybe not everyone, but every person counts.”
Spike clinked his bottle against Xander’s. “Alright, let’s save this girl, since we’re here anyway.”
Xander grinned. “We’ll be big damn heroes. So what’s her name?”
Spike glanced at the paper in front of him. “Trina Echolls.”
“That name’s familiar,” Xander said.
“Parents were big movie stars, she’s one of those actresses who’s done a lot of crap TV movies. Like Tori Spelling.”
Xander raised his beer. “Here’s to saving a D-level celebrity. Our lives have such meaning.”
Part Three
“Are you sure this’ll work?”
Xander shifted from foot to foot, and looked over his shoulder for the twentieth time in the last five minutes. Spike glanced up at him from his crouch beside the glass door he was trying to open with a credit card.
“Done this plenty. It’ll be fine.”
“But don’t these fancy houses have lots of security and alarms?” Xander whipped his head around to check for salivating guard dogs.
“That’s why I slammed against the door first.” Spike was doing his I’m spelling this out cause you’re an idiot voice, which Xander pretended to ignore. “If the security system was on that would have set it off.”
“Oh. I thought you were trying to break the door down.”
Spike shrugged. “Would have been easier that way. Faster than this.”
“Geez, you’d think that people would have their houses secured to the max after what’s happened.” Xander shook his head.
“People are idiots.” Spike jiggled the door hard, there was a click and it opened.
“Wow, I’m so impressed that worked! You’re definitely getting sex later.”
“Was that ever in question?” Spike peered inside. “Okay, be quick. Grab any clues you can find and get out.”
“Right now I hate the random rule that vamps need to be invited to enter a house. Who made that up anyway?”
“Now you see why I keep you around.” Spike pulled Xander close and kissed him, running his hands along Xander’s back. “You’ll be fine. And I’ll be right here.”
Next thing Xander knew he was inside the darkened living room. He clutched his flashlight for moral support, maneuvering blindly around the furniture towards a hallway that looked like it might lead to bedrooms.
His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure it would have set off the alarm system if it had been on. He felt like he was sweating everywhere and tightened his grip on the flashlight to avoid any dropping incidents.
Why did James Bond never look like he was even the tiniest bit nervous when he did things like this? Why couldn’t Xander be that cool? He tried to channel Bond’s suaveness but all he could think was Shaken not stirred, a thought that told him a lot more about the state of his own stomach than it did about successful stealth.
The first several rooms proved unhelpful and oddly empty of any personal objects, as if no one really lived here. Xander was starting to feel even less suave when something further down the hall caught his eye. Shining his flashlight on the door illuminated a nameplate with Trina’s Domicile on it. Tacky and Paris Hilton-like? Sure. But as obvious as a neon sign, so therefore good? Oh yeah.
In contrast to the other rooms, this one was brimming with stuff. It seemed strange for a girl who’d just returned home for a short visit. He closed the door behind him and shone his flashlight around the room.
Xander scanned the piles of clothes that littered the floor and sighed. He decided to check any bag and purse he could find and focus on the tops of the dressers. They were cluttered with make-up and other things Xander thought of as “girly stuff.” He picked up any papers that were lying around and stuffed them in his pockets. He even cleverly riffled through the trashcan.
He vowed to never to look through a girl’s garbage again.
Satisfied he’d done a thorough search and hopeful that his pockets contained many leads, he opened the door.
“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. Except, wait, who the hell are you?"
Xander wondered if this was what having a heart attack felt like: your heart trying to break free from your chest and take off down the hall.
The source of Xander’s heart attack had one hand clenched into a fist and the other gripping his phone.
Xander held his hands up. “It would be great if you didn’t hit me. I’m actually here to help.”
“Right. You burglars are so considerate. You’re really here to de-clutter my house, right?”
“Trina’s room’s the only one with clutter. From what I saw the rest of the house has been cleaned out. It’s like a ghost town, well a ghost house I guess.” When in trouble, Xander went with an old standby: babbling. “Not that I think there’s actual ghosts here or anything. It just feels like a tumbleweed might roll down this hallway at any moment.”
A frown passed over the guy’s face.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have already called the cops.”
“They can’t help you find Trina. I can.”
“How do you know Trina?”
“I don’t, but I think I know who has her.”
“I’m really not worried about my sister, she’ll turn up soon enough. She’s probably just off living it up.” The guy swept his arm in the air in a half-dramatic, half-dismissive gesture. “Having the time of her life.”
“There are no big dance numbers for her.” Xander decided to try the eye contact thing. “Trust me on this, if we don’t find her soon she’ll be dead.”
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