With an "S" on Your Chest

[whedonist]

Chapter 5 – With an “S” on Your Chest

Pushing the Bluetooth in my ear I secure the gizmo and look at Willow straddling the lounge chair. She’s trying to finish up the configuration on the conference call we are about to have.

She scowls and looks at her phone. Maybe trying to have this call on the beach wasn’t the best idea, but neither of us is willing to move from this spot. It’s hot, muggy and the sun is shining bright, almost too bright. It’s a beach day if ever there was one.

“And 3, 2, 1…” she stops counting and the phone rings. She nods to me and I hit the button on the side of the earpiece.

“Hello? Cupcake? Red?” Jimmy’s voice comes through clear and Willow smiles triumphantly.


“We’re here, Jimmy,” Willow says into the earpiece that’s the mate to mine.

“Hiya, Old Man,” I say and rest against the back of the chair. Good. No weird feedbackyness. Will was worried about it.

“Cupcake! Where are you two at? You sound clear enough, but I’m catchin’ some strange background noise,” Jimmy asks. If I close my eyes, I can see his annoyance.

“We’re on the beach,” Willow starts. Her hands fly over her keypad once again and the earpiece gets…muffled? I guess it’s the best way to describe it. “That better?”

“Tons, Red. Why are you two having this thing on the beach? Your room that messy?” he jokes.

“Hey, I just want some sun. I’m a firm believer that we can slay demons or talk about the slaying of demons while I work on my tan at the same time.” I wink at my witch. My reward is an eye roll and a shake of her head. Does no one get a decent joke?

“Cupcake, I keep tellin’ you, you need better jokes. Also you two, I’ve been keepin’ watch from up here since you found the body. You gonna tell me why a bar burnt down two nights ago?” Jimmy’s voice comes through the Bluetooth headset clear and clearly annoyed.

I stifle the laugh and muster a good response, “Act of God. Don’t you Catholics have them? Call’em miracles or something?”

“We do. But we don’t usually view the burning down of private property a miracle. Personally, and this may just be the cop in me talkin’, but I view it as arson. You two wanna tell me why?”

“We, uh, it wasn’t our fault...” Willow tries. Even to my ears it sounds a tad lame.

“Red, darlin’ if that’s all you got I ain’t buyin.” Jimmy doesn’t believe us and if I were him, I probably wouldn’t either.

“We were attacked. Will and I ended it. The ending wasn’t supposed to be a burnt down anything, but those pesky vamps, they just don’t know when to say when.” I shift in the chair and reach for the bottle of water to my right. “Personally, I think vamps could learn a lot from those beer commercials. I showed them the when. They didn’t like it.”

“Right. Knew I shouldn’ta asked,” he puffs. “Who else we waitin’ on?”

“Dawn,” Willow answers. “Give her a minute. I just got an IM. She’s trying to get to a more secure location.”

We wait for a few seconds and the line beeps. Willow taps a few keys and, “Willow? Hello?” Dawn’s voice comes through.

“We’re here Dawn. Me, Buff and Jim. You ready to start?” Willow responds to my sister’s confused plea.

“I am.” I hear some rustling then, “Damn!”

“Dawn?” I question. She cusses about as much as Will does, which is almost never. It’s kinda surprising considering that I’ve not got the cleanest mouth that hasn’t been helped by Jimmy.

“Yeah, I know. Hold on.” The line breaks off leaving us silent and waiting. I look to Will who shrugs. A few seconds later, the fourth line comes to life and she’s back. “Sorry, had the wrong papers. Okay. How is everyone?”

“Good here, Princess. How’s the Queen?” Jimmy knows how much that annoys Dawn. I can hear the steam coming out of her ears. Why he took to calling her ‘princess’ is anyone’s guess. I just know that when she and Ken came for Christmas a few years ago, he started in with it and hasn’t let up.

“Good and I wouldn’t know. New York?”

“Eh, full of people and crime. Just the way you remember it. Of course with your sis and Red not in town, crime’s kinda dropped off.” I hear him laugh and I roll my eyes.

“Hey,” Willow jumps in, “I’m not all crime causing.” Of course he would joke about the one time Willow got arrested. It wasn’t even that big a deal. She was chasing a vamp through the subways and hopped the turnstile; well she magicked the turnstile, but whatever. A patrolman caught her, arrested her and the vamp got away. She fumed for days.

I lean over and rub the small of her back and say, “As much fun as hearing you all poke at each other is, I’ve got my tan to work on and a demon to find and kill.” I shift my attention to the papers Will has on her lap and direct my question to ‘The Watcher With All The Answers’, “What kind of demon is it, Dawn?”

“I would like you to know it was hard to find. Andrew and I were in the basement for nearly the entire day.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the snarky remark that I have. She and Andrew do not have a good history together. Despite both finding other people to “go to the basement” with. Them, together, alone, just shouldn’t be allowed.

“But between the images you sent over, Will and Jimmy, the autopsy reports you sent, I think I’ve found our creature feature,” her voice carries a bit of pride. I guess it really shouldn’t surprise me that this is what she chose to do. “The thing goes by Naumbraug. It’s not a very powerful demon and doesn’t kill that often. The problem is that it’s old. By my guess, it’s close to a thousand years old and it’s the last of its species in this dimension.”

“It’s called a wha?” My face pinches in annoyance. Can’t these demons pick normal names? Like, I’ve yet to run into a demon called Bob. Why can’t I find one of them? It would so be a good change.

“Naumbraug,” Dawn restates slowly going over each syllable so that it sounds like ‘nam – br – og’. “It only needs to feed about once a century so it’s never had a chance to be caught. I’ve looked at some news archives and there was a small rash of killings in 1808 and 1909. Seven people died once every six days. The thing likes to take parts in order. Liver, kidneys, stomach, intestines, lungs, heart and brain. One part from each victim.”

Wonder if this thing would be any good at Operation. The stupid wishbone always trips me up. On the upside, at least it just started. Gives us a little bit of time.

“Right. Now, once this thing is done feeding, it disappears,” Dawn continues, “I haven’t actually found out where it goes. Not sure if it’s a hibernation thing or just likes to keep the low profile. Either way, finding it before it gets its next snack would be a check in the plus column for us good guys.”

Jimmy speaks finally, pressing, “Buffy, you sure you don’t want me to come down?” his voice laced with worry. He worries way too much.

“Jimmy, I said ‘no’ the first time you asked,” Will answers for me. “It’s one demon. We’ll be fine. Stay in New York.”

“What about a team of slayers?” Dawn asks from her end.

“Nope,” I squash that. I don’t need a group of teenage girls to look after. “We’re good. Will’s right. One demon equals no big.”

“Fine, but if you don’t check in regularly, I’m sending a squad down,” Dawn warns.

“Me too,” Jimmy jumps in. “I don’t hear from one or both a yinz daily, I’m flyin’ down there and they won’t like me too much once I get there.”

“Over protective much?” I snort. He’s worse than I am.

“Damn straight, kiddo. Just like someone else I know.” The jibe stings mildly. I know I’m protective, maybe even overly so. “Fine. Daily check-ins. Dawn, we’ll email you.”

“Thanks, Dawnie for the leg work. One last question: How do we kill it?” That’s my Will always asking the important questions.

“That’s the easy part. Decapitation will do nicely. Immolation works as well. It’s an easy demon to kill. The clean up’s gonna suck. It doesn’t poof.”

I glance over at Will and she just shrugs. Her shrug says, ‘We’ll work it out after we kill it.’ I nod and say, “It’s okay, we’ll deal. Dawn, anything else?” It’s nice to talk to Dawn and Jimmy, but I’m itching to start tracking this thing down. We’ve only got two more days to find it. The last body was found four days ago. Two left. Not a lot of time and I would like to enjoy the rest of my vacation.

“Yep, and this you owe me for. You and Will are supposed to meet a contact at a place called Club Space in downtown. Someone, and before you ask who, I don’t know, will be giving you some info. It was a contact of a contact of a contact. Be there tonight around ten. Someone or something will have some info. You’re on the guest list for tonight.”

“Huh?” Will and I ask at the same time.

“I asked around,” Dawn explains, “I’ve got someone that has ties in the area. They’re gonna ask around in the day and get with you tonight. Just be there. They have your general description.”

I shrug. That club was on Dexter’s list. I can totally work with that. “We done?”

“I’ve got nothing else. Love you three. I need to go. I have a training session with a group.” Wishing good luck in our hunt, Dawnie says goodbye.

“Cupcake, Red. I’m gonna go too. I got some stuff to do. You two take care and check in with me tonight after your meet.”

“Will do. Love you old man. Be safe.” I wonder what he’s got going on up there.

---

I shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s a club. Been to many in my time of going to clubs. I’ve never actually had to meet someone, an informant someone, at a club. Jeeze, sweaty palms are icky. I wipe them on the leather of the seat and look over at Buffy. She just seems so calm. Cool. One could even say collected.

It’s annoying.

Can’t she spaz a little with me? A sympathy spaz would not go unappreciated. Not one little bit.

Instead, what does she do? She takes my hand kissing the back of it before resting it in her lap.

Hey, where’d the sweaty go? Right, I can do this. Nothing to it. Meet a guy, get information, and leave.

The limo pulls to a stop and we wait for the chauffer to open the door. The limo was a complete surprise. Dawn arranged it for us. She’s sweet sometimes and not nearly as bratty as she used to be. Thank the Goddess for growth and maturation.

Buffy steps out first and reaches back in to help me out of the limo. I wouldn’t need help if she hadn’t picked my outfit. This skirt may as well be spray painted on. I’m not saying the outfit isn’t nice…it’s just tight.

For some reason, she chose similar outfits for us. My top is a deep green and glittery with a scoop neck and no sleeves. I’m not sure, but I think it’s also a size too small. Buffy’s is a royal blue. She was also kind enough to put me in a black mini-skirt. She’s wearing her white leather pants and I’m still not sure where she found the high heeled strappy sandals we’re both wearing. I almost need magick to keep myself upright. Stupid slayers and their balance.

Gosh. This is a busy place. There are two lines. One on the left and one the right. I peer over to my right and see that the line is stretched around the corner. So, I’ll go with one of the hot night spots in Miami. Four big very intimidating men stand in front of the entrance. All four look like they could have been extra’s in The Gladiator. Thick, ‘barely-there’ necks with muscles that have no right being that large. All are dressed in black from head to toe with earpieces discreetly tucked away.

Buffy saunters up to them as I trail behind clutching her hand. She squeezes my hand when I bump into her shoulder and smiles sweetly at the security guard with the clipboard.

He looks down at us and I crane my neck to look up. Who knew people came in such heights? He’s like seven feet tall. Well, maybe not seven feet, but he’s darn close. His gaze trails over Buffy then me. It’s a little disconcerting. I can practically hear his thoughts. All of them are unquestionably naughty and I resist the urge to glare.

A smile breaks out on his stone like face and he rumbles, “Good evening ladies.”

“Hi,” Buffy puts on her best Valley Girl voice and chirps, “This is Willow and I’m Buffy. You should have us on your list thingy there.” She points to the clip board and bats her eyelashes at him.

He glances at the board for a second and steps aside taking the blue velvet rope with him. “You are indeed. Enjoy.” Buffy walks past him and pulls me along. I’m pretty sure if I look back I’m going to rat him.

Buffy glances at me and winks right before we step through the doors. The first thing that hits is sound. Heavy techno comes pouring out of the doors. We bypass the coat check and go straight towards an open table close to the bar. A throng of people move and gyrate on the floor.

We sit down and I look around getting the lay of the place. It’s two stories and there’s another DJ booth set up upstairs. I can’t hear the other floor’s music, but by the way the few people I see are dancing, it’s not techno. Rap or hip-hop maybe.

The place itself is black walls, blue and purple lighting, and plush. It all looks soft. The stool I’m sitting on has a thick, comfy cushion and there are rows of couches towards the back wall. Two bars are set up on opposite sides of the club and both swarm with people.

Buffy presses into me and nips my ear. “You want anything to drink?”

I shake my head ‘no’ and turn to her, softly pressing my lips to hers. I pull back and say, “We can dance if you want or sit and people watch.”

Pulling back, I look at her face as she pulls me to my feet. Dancing it is. We move to the edge of the dance floor carving out a little niche for the two of us. She places me in the center then spins around me, brushing me with her hips, legs, and hands. I feel her tongue snake down my shoulder as her breasts push into my back. Her hands wrap around my waist and she pulls me to her. Close would be a loose way to describe our embrace. She moves me to the music. I’m an extension of her.

She’s done this only a handful times, but every single time it sends wormy tendrils of need from my chest down. I love it. She guides my body. It’s her’s; she can do as she pleases. She sweeps my hair aside and her teeth graze the nape of my neck.

I turn and wrap my arms around her neck pulling her face close to mine. My eyes zero in on her lips and…I feel a hand on my shoulder. Who? It’s not Buffy’s. Her hands are gripping my hips. A growl passes my lips.

I turn ready to really give it to the person who’s interrupting my kissage. It’s darn rude.

Buffy’s gaze follows mine and we are motioned off the dance floor. The slight tickle to the back of my neck tells me two things: one: our interrupter isn’t human and two: Buffy’s just as annoyed as I am.
He leans in close so that both Buffy and I can hear, “Outside.”

I look at him and give him a look. I’m going for a look that says, ‘Are you crazy?’ Opening up my link to Buffy, I ask, “Think this is the guy?”

She gives a physical shrug and her voice fills my mind, “ “Dunno. If not, we dust him. Vamp.”

Nodding, I take her hand and motion for the vampire to start walking. We follow him behind the bar and through an ‘Employee’s Only’ door. As we clear the noise, he starts talking, “I hear you two are looking for someone?”

“Yeah,” Buffy says behind me.

“Good. What I got isn’t a lot, but it might be what you two want to know.” He pushes open a fire entrance door and steps out into an alley. We follow him through.

Turning right, Buffy and I are shoulder to shoulder as we look at the seven other vampires standing just outside the door. Great. Weren’t we going to be friendly? We just wanted information.

Ya know, this vacation is getting less vacationy the more we’re here.

Buffy pushes me behind her and quips, “Should we have R.S.V.P.’d to the party, boys?”

The vamp that led us out here turns and stands with the others. He shifts and as he talks a lisp comes through, “No need. So you’re Buffy Summers?”

I look down and Buffy’s got a stake in her hand. Where was she hiding that? I watch her hands go to her waist as she pops her hip out and takes on a more imposing stance. “The one and only. What is it that I can do for you?”

I see it coming from a mile away. Before the guy’s feet even leave the pavement, Buffy directs, “Save three for me. Burn the rest.” And she’s off. Two steps and then a roundhouse to the first one’s face. He goes sailing and smacks against a dumpster. Two others advance on her but she’s already prepared for them.

I glance left and see three coming at me. My eyebrow rises and I fold my hands across my chest. Three vampires used to scare me. Now they kinda bug. Apparently they didn’t get my memo. Oh well. I suppress the smirk and concentrate on directing the energy I’m building.

The three are about four feet from me and I wave my hand in their direction. They don’t feel the fire until it’s too late. It burns bright for a second before ash floats to the pavement. I really should have perfected this in Sunnydale. It would have saved so much time.

My attention goes back to Buffy. She’s playing with them and they aren’t smart enough to know it. The three vampires circle her and try to get in a shot. They all fail miserably. The vamp that led us out here is watching the fight not moving a muscle. I think he forgot about me. Good. With another wave of my hand I bind him to his spot then pull the vampire that hit the dumpster away from Buffy and watch him turn to ash.

Buffy glances over her shoulder at me and winks. Ladies and gentleman, here it is.

Glued to my spot, I watch as she backhands the vampire on her left and if you’re not paying careful attention, slip her stake into his heart as he staggers backwards. He turns to dust and she’s already pummeling the one right in front of her. Her right arm strikes out and connects with the last vampire, snapping his jaw.

The pummeling stops as more dust floats around her. The one with the broken jaw stumbles and turns to flee. Ah! Why does he think he’s getting away? She watches him for a second and then sends the stake flying through the air. It imbeds itself in the vampire’s back. The stake and the vampire crumble to the alley floor.

I walk up to her all smiles. “Feel better?”

She pecks me on the cheek and says, “Oddly enough, yes.”

We both turn to the remaining vampire and I ask, “What did you have to tell us?”

It’s always weird to see already pale vampires pale even further. I mean there’s no blood flow so how? It’s not like their heart’s tickin’ away. Could be part of that whole curse thing. Buffy pokes him in his forehead and demands, “Talk.”

He sputters and coughs a few times then manages, “What?”

“Lookin’ for a demon that likes to cut girls up in hotel rooms.”

He swallows thickly and begs, “If I tell you, will you not kill me?”

She appears to give it a thought and shrugs. “Maybe. Depends on the witch’s mood. She can be prickly.”

He seems okay with that so he nods. “The only thing I know is some talk about getting a room ready at the La Playa on Collins for tomorrow night.”

Buffy nods and pats him on the head. Gently she takes my elbow and steers us towards the door we exited. “Will,” she says my name and I know. I release the spell holding the vampire to the alley floor and wait. His foot falls start to echo less and I wave a hand over my shoulder. His scream is muffled as we enter the club again.

---

I know I should be listening to Rita. She’s saying important things about the wedding. About our honeymoon. Instead my mind wanders back to work. To those blood samples that I pulled from the hotel room.

Not typeable. The thought is foreign to me. There are only a limited number of blood types available to the human race. None of them match the sample I have.

“Dexter,” Rita’s voice cuts through my pondering, “did you make the deposit to the travel agent?”

Travel agent? Ah yes, that entirely too chipper woman. I’m not sure if she kills innocents, but being that perky should certainly count for being a monster. It’s unnatural. And if anyone were to pay attention to her shoes. Honestly, plaid high heels with yorkies at the end. That alone should give me license to help her take the ultimate vacation. My ‘Dark Passenger’ could be her travel agent. We’ll make sure she has a wonderful send off.

“Dexter?” Rita questions. I look over to her flashing what I’m sure is a fantastically mimicked sheepish half smile.

“I’m sorry; yes, I dropped off the last deposit yesterday.” Her smile brightens and she kisses me on the cheek.

“Thank you. Is everything okay? You’ve been quiet?” She snuggles up to my side and takes my arm off the back of the couch to wrap around her.

I don’t usually initiate contact of this sort. I have no real interest and I don’t want to upset her. While we’ve been intimate, I’ve made a point to give her the reigns in how I touch her. It gives me the mask of sensitive and concerned and minimizes the actual contact.

While I care for Rita, I even find her pleasant to look at and be around; I have never had a real interest in sex. It’s why I know Rita’s the perfect fit for ‘Dexter the Dutiful’. Usually when I’ve gotten involved, the relationship ends the day after we have sex. With Rita, it deepened. She didn’t see the hollow man staring back at her as we made love. She saw what she wanted to see.

“I’m okay. Works been a bit hectic,” I answer her question and she nods.

I look at her and concern creases her brow. I wish she wouldn’t. “Do you want anything? Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head and kiss the tip of her nose. She really is a marvelous creature, all full of worry for everyone, but herself. “I’m fine. Tired. It was a long day.”

“You were out later than usual. Was it really bad?”

I look over my shoulder to make sure the bedroom door to the kid’s room is closed. Satisfied, I whisper, “You know those killings at the hotels? That’s what we’ve been working on. I was at the last scene tonight. I’m sorry about missing dinner though.”

I’m not horribly sorry about missing dinner. I was at the hotel snooping. ‘Dexter the Inquisitive’ visited the hotel room that houses the two charming travelers.

I found some interesting pieces of information. Someone has given them access to the reports. My reports, the medical examiner’s, Debra’s. They have all the information the police do. What I want to know is why? It’s the missing piece of my perilous puzzle.

On the one hand, they are in town for only a visit. They’ll be gone in two weeks. I don’t need to fret over them traipsing over my hunting grounds. To further complicate matters, I’m nearly sure the N.Y.P.D. would grow to miss such a decorated detective as Buffy.

What is that anyway? Buffy? Who name’s their child that? Her name alone should give her license for her and her darker self to do as she pleases.

But this is also a problem. My only moral compass, the code of my foster father, says that if I suspect and can prove. Action must be taken. It’s what we agreed upon.

The other was nothing that I found damned them to a night with ‘Dreadful Dexter’ and his nice collection of flaying knives.

I rest my head against the back of the couch. The search will continue.

Rita’s hand begins a slow, gentle rubbing on the back of my neck. “It’s okay. Astor and Cody missed you, but they understand.”

I lift my head and raise my left eyebrow, “Are you saying you didn’t miss me?” She does love it when I tease her.

She blushes and a half smile creeps up her face. “I might have.”

Hopefully, I can get her to sleep sooner rather than later. The one piece of information that could prove fruitful needs to be followed up on tonight. They are out this evening at Club Space and I want to follow them. I just need to get Rita asleep before then.

Deciding to take action, I scoop Rita in my arms and carry her back to our bedroom. Yes, our bedroom, since the engagement, she has the silly notion that we should live together. It had to happen eventually. It just makes my nocturnal needs maddening to hide. Where does one hide the tools used to cut and kill in a house with two young children and a blushing bride to be?

I flip her over onto her stomach and straddle her waist. Her giggles are hushed as my hands knead the pliant flesh of her back. ‘Doting Dexter’ has many skills. Of these, the most useful is my ability to put Rita to sleep in under a half hour with a carefully applied massage.

It takes me a half hour of decreasing pressure on her back until I hear her soft snores. Gently, I ease myself off the bed and cover her with the comforter. Wouldn’t want her getting cold. She might wake up and find me missing. I’ve no urge to try and explain anything right now.

Creeping quietly out of the room, I head for my “study.” Rita’s old sewing room that she turned to a ‘man den’ for me. I grab the gym bag holding a few essentials and turn to leave. My car keys rest on the kitchen counter and I snatch them up like a kid going for candy.
Out the door, in the car and down the road in amazing time. I’m not only quick-witted, but quick-footed as well. Now off to do some spying. I head north out of Coconut Grove and make my way towards downtown. The display on my dash reads 10:51pm.

It’s time to wait. I make sure my car is on the opposite side of the street with a clear view of the entrance to the club. The lines stretch nearly around the corner causing me to shake my head. How a mass of gyrating bodies and sweat are appealing has escaped me. It perhaps is the one thing that I have failed to pretend to enjoy.

Luckily, my wait isn’t long. I look at my dashboard once again and only a half hour has passed. I watch Buffy and Willow exit the club and a limo pulls up to the curb. The driver hops out, but Buffy stops him before he opens the rear door. He nods, gets back in the limo and leaves.

The two women walk hand in hand down the street. Absolutely intriguing. I exit the car and begin a leisurely pace behind them. I don’t want them to realize they are being followed after all. Their voices carry and I catch snippets of conversation. Apparently, they are after food.

Three blocks down and one right, I stop in my tracks, receding into the shadows. A trio of young punks stops my prey. Do I step in? How do I explain my presence? I’m close enough to hear what is being said.

“What is this? Can’t you guys get a clue?” Buffy’s voice rings angrily down the street and I smile. I’m not sure their attackers know what they’ve gotten themselves into. I’m certainly curious enough.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” one of the punks snarls. The three half surround the two women and to my eye, neither woman seems to be particularly frightened. Willow’s posture says relaxed and Buffy is standing there with her hands on hips, dare I say defiantly?

One of them pulls a gun from his waist band and I step forward. If anyone’s going to dispatch these two creatures it certainly won’t be these three looking for easy money.

I take two steps and stop. Willow steps back giving me a clear view of Buffy knocking the gun out of the punk’s hand. I watch slack jawed as a single round house kick sends all three sailing a few feet off the ground and back. They land folded in on themselves unmoving.

I rub my eyes quickly and step back into the shadows. Huh? She’s five foot two…maybe. A hundred and five pounds if I’m lucky enough to guess right. I watch, hidden once again, as she stalks up to the three and drags them together.

“You ready babe?” Buffy asks the redhead, offering her hand.

“Yeah, but are we just going to leave them here?” Willow looks around nervously and motions towards the heap of street trash.

Buffy’s hand drops and she looks back over at the would-be attackers shrugging. “I don’t think they’ll be doing this again.”

Willow’s brow furrows as she looks between the bodies on the sidewalk and Buffy. She decides to agree with her lover. Grabbing the blonde’s hand, they make their way down the street appearing light and care free.

I rub my eyes once again trying to shake off the shock. Did I just see what I saw? Has ‘Dear Old Dexter’ become ‘Delusional Dexter?’

I quickly walk up to the three unconscious youths. Spatters of blood cover their faces. One most certainly has a broken nose, one a broken jaw and the other has a large gash on his cheek.

My leashed darker self lets loose a slow rumbling belly laugh. There is more here than ‘Demon Dexter’ seemed to think. And I, as usual, am in complete agreement.


Chapter 6 - Do-gooder Knights