Buffy could hear the sirens approaching, she didn’t know who’d called them, having the police called was not something she was used to. In Sunneydale no one called the police, she wasn’t even sure if the police had a phone, but here in Boston things were obviously very different. Damn. Buffy reached down and nudged Spike again.
“Get up you ass!” She hissed at him, “We do not have time for this.”
Buffy and Spike had been in Boston tracking the head of a breakaway sect of the Clan Aruelius who had been responsible for the mass murders of a number of church congregations. She and Spike had just received information that the group was in a motel just outside Boston when Spike had been attacked. A number of vampires had jumped them on their way from a pub to their hotel. They thought they had managed to stake their attackers, but one had been ducking behind a post box, he had jumped out at Spike and pushed him out into the street just as a car was speeding past. The resulting crash had left Spike unconscious and the vampire who’d done the pushing a pile of dust decorating the ground at Buffy’s feet.
Now Spike was laying there looking, and unfortunately acting, like a corpse, the driver of the car who’d hit him was pacing back and forth in tears, and Buffy was trying to wake the vampire up before the police arrived. She knew she could have just up and carried him back to the hotel, it wasn’t far and he was nowhere near to heavy for her to lift, but with all the witnesses there was no way she could get away without someone giving the police an adequate description, and she had a nagging feeling that the police here were more adept than the ones in Sunneydale.
Buffy was just about to nudge him again when she heard a woman’s voice behind her.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step away from the body.”
Buffy turned to see a woman with long dark hair, tan skin, and dark eyes. “He’s not a body,” she said, sniffling and trying to work up fake tears, “He’s my boyfriend.”
The woman smiled sadly, “I’m very sorry ma’am, but I need to secure the scene. If you’ll just wait on the side walk I’ll be over in a minute.”
Buffy nodded and backed off; trying everything she could to work up tears. Dead puppy, dead puppy, dead friends, dead Dawn, dead Giles, more dead Spike, dead puppy. The tears would have worked if she didn’t know that while the woman examining Spike’s body checked his pulse, he’d probably be coming around and give her the scare of her life. The thought of the woman’s face when Spike came to yelling and cursing was threatening to make her laugh. As she watched the woman check over Spike’s body, then take pictures to document the scene, and finally as the men wearing coroner’s jumpsuits put his body on a stretcher and cover him in a white sheet, Buffy realised he wasn’t getting up. Crap. She knew he wasn’t dead, a mere car crash wasn’t enough to take him out, but his healing should have kicked in by now, obviously he was hurt worse than she’d thought. Buffy stood on the sidewalk, by the post box the vampire had been hiding behind.
The woman who had examined Spike walked over and offered her hand, “I’m Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh, and I’m with the Boston Medical Examiners office. Would you mind if I asked you about what happened?”
Buffy nodded and sniffled again for effect, “Of course.”
The woman, Dr. Cavanaugh, smiled again, “How did your boyfriend end up in the street? Did he trip?”
Buffy nodded, “He was a little drunk, he ran into the post box and stumbled, I tried to catch him, but…”
“It’s just that the driver said he was pushed,” Dr. Cavanaugh said.
Buffy squirmed a little, “Maybe she thought I was pushing him when I was trying to catch him?”
Dr. Cavanaugh tilted her head a little, “The driver said it was a man who pushed your boyfriend.”
“Maybe I didn’t see him, he could have been behind the post box, I wasn’t really paying attention to the world around me. Spike was like that, he sort of made the whole world sit up and pay attention to him.”
The doctor’s eyebrow shot up, “Spike?”
A small smile appeared on Buffy’s face, “His nickname, we were in a band together, that’s how we met, he sang, I played the drums. I remember when he told my mom, ‘She’s hell on the old skins’ he said, not what my mom wanted to hear, but she came around eventually.”
Dr. Cavanaugh smiled, “It sounds like he was a real character.”
Buffy nodded, the tears finally co-operating with her, “He is. Was.”
The doctor reached in to her coat and pulled out a card, “This has the address of the Medical Examiner’s office on it. We have an excellent grief counselor you can talk to, Lily’s a wonderful listener.”
Buffy accepted the card and thanked the doctor, hoping that the grief counselor and Spike would be in the same building. When Dr. Cavanaugh, left the police walked over and took her name and address and then let her go. She hurried back to the hotel and her and Spike’s room. Curling up in the standard hotel bed she buried her face in the sheets and laughed herself to tears. Spike was going to be so mad when he woke up. She hoped he didn’t come to in one of the drawers; his claustrophobia had been getting worse since her death. She sometimes wondered if his insane-o Spike logic somehow connected his feelings of guilt to his worsening claustrophobia. Closing her eyes, Buffy tried to get to sleep.