Disclaimer: See first chapter
A/N: Please review, all feedback welcome.
In every man's heart there is a devil, but we do not know the man as bad until the devil is roused.
-James Oliver CurwoodBuffy’s POV
The smell was stifling, sweat, nervous, fearful sweat. Death too, like drying blood and salty tears. What was worse it wasn’t Dexter’s scent that was overpowering me. No, he was only a faint reading on my senses, the other things had settled into the fabric and metal of the car.
Forcing my body to stay still I flashed a half grin at Dexter who returned it with one of his almost smiles. The smile that was really more of a grimace. Dexter had exactly two looks, indifferent and mock cheerfulness. I had yet to see him break into a full blown grin-maybe he never would.
The session that had been interrupted had been interesting to say the least, yeah, interesting was a good word. I had seen him from afar, hulking like Riley, like Angel. Silent and stone faced like Angel as well. He was tanned brown hair highlighted blonde from the sun, and golden brown eyes not as dark as Angel’s.
The slayer in her pointed out every similarity to everyone she could remember having met. The strong features, the silence, the almost hunched walk, the glances cast seemingly pointlessly, it was all so odd.
It didn’t take the education she had worked on for years to note his suspicions or intent to lie. It only takes seven years of hell on the hellmouth. He looked out of place in the sunny corridor, which was dispelled as he stepped into my shadow realm. Despite what I had told Deborah, I loved my office, it was warm. It reminded me of the night, of the safety of knowing who I was-am.
For a human Dexter had a surprisingly strong grasp. As he shook my hand, he looked down at me and our eyes met. It isn’t the cliché moment that Angel and I had shared. This was enough to almost make me pull away from him. His eyes… The window to the soul saying is crap. I learned that a long time ago, with Spike. Dexter had Spike’s eyes. Not in color or shape, or even in luminosity. Dexter’s eyes held the horror of the world, something I too saw when I looked in the mirror.
I blinked slowly, drawing myself from my thoughts, the ominous feeling in the car receding with my reverie. The daylight was blinding in this situation and I longed for the blanket of darkness.
“So, Buffy, you seem to have accomplished so much for being so young,” his grip on the steering wheel was tight enough to make his knuckles lighten in coloration.
“I’m 27, 28 in January. Not that young,” truth was I still looked 22 or 23, not much had changed from when I had taken down The First. I’d attribute it to aging gracefully, the slayer in me blamed Willow and one dozen too many spells.
Don’t think he expected that, his brow twitched, neck corded, I could tell he wanted to look at me, but he didn’t.
At last we pulled to a stop and I had to restrain myself from launching myself from the car and heaving to get the last of the tainted air from my lungs. Instead I thanked him and waved before retreating over to LaGuerta and Doakes.
I tracked the dark man’s eyes-he followed Dexter-perhaps Mr. Morgan had told me a partial truth today.
Surveying the scene I saw three distressing things, the crowd that had members intent on my patient, the lax security, and the bloodied body lying in view of anyone.
I slipped my sunglasses on, a trick I had learned a while back, no one could see me watching them if they couldn’t see my eyes. Pushing my hair back I rotated my head to gaze at Angel Batista, despite the names, my Angel had nothing in common with this bubbly Hispanic. Angel was calling Doakes over and waving broadly at the scene, Dex and Vince were making their way down to the body.
“Heard your sister is back on the job already-is she in any kind of shape,” Masuka asked, huffing slightly at the climb down.
Watching carefully I noted Dex’s brow scrunch for a second before relaxing, “Well, you know Deb, nothing gets her down.”
Despite carrying a heavy case, Vince managed to make some exasperated arm gestures, “No, I mean did she pack on any pounds while she was gone? Cause last time I saw her she was tight.”
Dexter was saved from having to answer because they had reached the body. I observed my new curiosity for a few minutes more. From all accounts he was always on top of his game. Today he was missing obvious things, his lens cap, his foot in a blood puddle-something wasn’t right. He seemed disconcerted at his own mistakes-well covered frustration.
Rolling my shoulders back I tucked my arms underneath my chest after removing my sunglasses. I meandered over towards Deborah who was interviewing the man who had found our poor gang victim. Keeping my distance I saw the shield had worn down already, her face showing the joy at working. Her body belied her keen disposition. She kept her back to the crowd, shifting to keep herself from facing them. She stood legs shoulder width apart-defensively.
Shit, things were going from not so good to bad quite quickly, two of the crowd were calling out to her, egging her on. I could tell she heard them because her voice tightened and wavered. Edging closer I flashed my badge at the cop guarding the perimeter before moving towards Deb.
“Hey, Mrs. Ice Truck Killer, turn around, look scared for the camera!” one of the guys called.
LaGuerta was keeping an eye on Deb as well. She seemed to be debating whether or not to do something about the hecklers. Camera flashes were going off at the willowy brunette, she swung around and I slid my arm through hers, anchoring her to my side.
“Come on, just look scared for the camera,” the other guy called as he moved to get a better angle.
“Hey look, Mrs. Ice Truck Killer has a hot friend. Come on babes, smile pretty then scream like he’s back!”
I felt Deb pull at my hold, I squeezed her wrist lightly, “Let’s give them a picture, besides, they’ve probably never even seen a real woman before.”
It seemed to snap the cop out of her rage and she half smiled at me, “Yeah.”
We leaned together and the boys took their picture, before thanking us. LaGuerta smiled at me before moving back to talking with Doakes. I walked Deb over to her car and handed her a bottle of water.
“You can’t let them get to you, I know it is hard, and it hurts, but I know you love this job, and you have to work through this if you want to be a good cop,” I looked right into her eyes, they were a little too glossy, a tell tears were threatening.
She nodded and took a deep swallow of water.
“By the way, Masuka thinks you look hot,” she made a face, her mouth twisting up in disgust and she choked out a laugh.
“Oh god, never ever say that while I’m drinking!”
“And I think Doakes has a little crush on Dear Dex,” i tried desperately to keep a straight face.
Again her face twisted, this time her eyes squeezing half shut and brow crinkling despite the smile on her lips, “Thank you very much for that imagery, Buffy.”
I grinned widely, something pre-glory Buffy might have done, “Glad to be of…service.”
Deborah rose and pushed me slightly, “God, shut up! This is me walking away to try and get that out of my head!”
She moved away, a smile on her face-a real smile-mission accomplished. I could feel my own grin making my cheeks ache a little, maybe this friendship would be good for the both of us.
Hey, sorry this took some time, I had several tests to take the last week and I didn’t have much time to write. So here is chapter five. Hope you all enjoyed.