Going on Faith - Chapter 6
Xander woke up an inch from the edge of the bed. A warm body pressed up against his back and with a little snuffle pushed him even closer to falling out. He pushed back hard and yanked at the blanket, which was barely covering him.
It was all Buffy's fault. "Oooh the poor little dog," she said. "You have to take him home, Xander. You need a companion! And just look at him. Look at his wittle face. He's so cute. Yes he is. Yes he is."
If the wittle dog was so cute, why wasn't it living at Buffy's house right now and shoving her - or better yet, Spike - out of bed? Xander sighed and gave another pull on the blanket, making the dog whine and roll over. Great, more covers, but now the dog's rough paw pad was resting on Xander's ear.
He gave up and closed his eyes tight, trying to ease back into the dream he'd been enjoying as he slept in on this fine Sunday morning. Something about dancing and naked bodies..yeah, naked bodies, good... The phone rang.
"Rrrff! Rrrfff!" The dog leaped up, barking.
Xander whacked at it, "Shut up, mutt!" and scrambled for the phone. "Hello?"
"Good morning, Sunshine? You coming over for breakfast?" Willow's chipper voice grated like fingernails on a chalkboard.
"Will, in all the years we've been friends, have you ever known me to get up before.." He glanced at the clock, "eleven o'clock on a weekend?"
"Sorry," she said, not sounding dampened in the least. "Well, when you're ready come on over. Croissants and computers. Dawn and I are cracking into police reports to try and find the missing vehicle, and we've already compiled a list of places to contact around Sunnydale to see if Macardle checked in anywhere. That's your assignment."
"All right, you I can understand, but Dawn's a relatively normal teenage girl. You're telling me she's up and at 'em already?"
"Hey, Xander," Dawn's voice echoed tinnily letting him know they were on speakerphone. "Get your butt out of bed. It's a gorgeous day, and if you hadn't gotten yourself plastered last night you'd have some ambition to get up and enjoy it!"
"Dawn."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up." He smiled as he hung up the phone.
Laying there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the dog pant in his ear, he thought about the previous night at the Bronze. He hadn't really gotten wasted, but with another few beers, a couple of shots and a LOT of slow dancing with Faith - it had been a pretty fun evening. Memorable. Man, life could turn on a dime and surprise you. He never would have guessed yesterday morning that in 24 hours time he'd be reacquainted with a beautiful, if kind of frightening, woman and sleeping with..he turned his head and inhaled rancid breath..a dog.
Xander jumped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Time to see what another 24 hours would bring.
************
Faith sat on a chair in the corner, her eyes glazed over, chewing on a hangnail. She winced as another gale of laughter broke out from the pair huddled over their computer terminals. What the hell kind of drugs were these babes on, anyway? No one got that kind of a kick out of reading police reports about John Does and abandoned cars. And what exactly the hell was she supposed to be doing to help? Couldn't they have waited until they had something for her to do before dragging her out of bed? She noticed no one had even mentioned Queen Buffy getting her scrawny butt over here. No. Precious was too busy bonking her undead boyfriend to be disturbed.
Faith sighed, picked a piece off her croissant and crumbled it. "S'okay," she told herself. "Just be glad you're out of the hole and go with the flow." It's not like she wasn't grateful - extremely grateful - to be here and to be treated so well by this group of people she had, let's face it, tried to kill on occasion. But the camaraderie and goddamn cheerfulness were starting to get to her. After over three years of self imposed solitude, it was just overwhelming. She was itching to be off on her own again.
Last night, now, that had been fun. A little battle, a little booze and a warm body to press up to. These were things Faith could wrap her mind around. Of course, she could've done with a little more body pressing than what she got on the dance floor, but still, it was nice. Felt sexy and good and it was a long, long time since she'd felt those things.
The girl smiled bitterly at her thoughts. Yeah, not since she'd boffed Buffy's soldier boy, and that not even in her own body, had she felt all womanly. Her own five digits had seen her through these last few years, but though they were handy (pun intended) they hardly brought the same pleasure a good hard screw could.
She glanced up quickly, almost afraid that super-witch Willow could read her mind, but, no, the pair still had their noses practically embedded in one of the two computer screens. "Have you tried this?" "Oh, coool. I didn't know you could..." "Wow. Look at that list of offenders." "I can't believe they don't have better security. Some of this information is.." "Willow, did you see CSI last week? That's what I want to do someday." "You'd be good at it. You really have an eye for details."
Faith yawned and closed her eyes, slipping under the waves of chatter like a drowning woman and drifting off to sleep.
************* "That's it!" Dawn's excited cry, wrenched her out of a dream about hands. There was something about trying on gloves that didn't fit, big woolly gloves that made it hard to hold her stake, and a nauseating feeling of something unfinished and very important that she was supposed to do. Faith snapped awake with a "Huh?"
"Look! Look! Look!" Dawn was pointing at her screen and Willow leaned over to see. "Who's good? Oh yeah! That's me. Uh-huh." Dawn sing- songed, as she did a little chair dance.
"You got it!" Willow agreed. "'99 Ford Concord LX, dark gray, no license plate, found in a ravine off Parris Rd. Some hikers reported it..wow, just this morning. No papers, no driver, no id at all."
"That's the make and model Macardle rented, but with the license plate removed.. Not a good sign. Something bad's happened to your Watcher."
Faith had joined them and was peering over Dawn's shoulder at the information. Against her nature she deferred to their obvious research authority, "Um. is there anything I can do? Start asking around at the Marriott or something?"
"Oh, we've already covered that," Dawn enthused. "See, last night Willow compiled a list of all the places he could have possibly stayed in Sunnydale from the best hotel to the cheapest dive and every bed and breakfast in between, and this morning we started calling." Dawn dropped her voice to a husky tone. "Hello. Can you please connect me to Mr. John Macardle's room. No. I'm not sure of the number. He would've checked in yesterday, or maybe the day before...No guest by that name? Well, thank you very much. He must have given me the wrong hotel."
"Worked like a charm most of the time. Now we just have a short list of places to check out in person. Places where they wouldn't give out information over the phone. It seems like most of the better hotels were booked solid because of the U.C. Sunnydale/Baskin U. football game."
"As soon as Xander gets here, we can split up," Willow decided. "Dawn and I'll go to the crash scene and see if we can find something the police overlooked. Maybe there's a sign of the supernatural - demon spawn or something. Meanwhile, you and Xander can go to these motels, some of them are quite a way out of town, and try to check out their registers. Maybe one of you can be a distraction, while the other takes a look." Willow looked up at Faith, "uh..that is, if it's okay with you. I mean, you're the Slayer."
"Sure. Whatever you think," Faith conceded. "I'm a killer not a planner. Big kudos for you two finding out all this stuff! I wouldn't have known where to begin."
A knock sounded at the door, and Xander entered without waiting for a "Come in."
"Hey, all."
The dog raced into the room ahead of him and ran straight to Faith, who gave him a quick pat on the head. Dawn, however, fell to her knees beside the canine and gave him big kisses and cuddles.
"Oh, aren't you a good, good dog," she cooed. "Xander, what you gonna name him? How about Rufus? That's cute. Or.." She rattled off a list of possibilities.
"Good morning! Grab some breakfast? I've got croissants and oranges." Willow gestured at a plate on the table, set out next to a basket of fresh fruit.
"Uh, no thanks, I brought doughnuts," Xander grinned sheepishly, as he produced the box.
"Doughnuts!" Dawn was up like a shot, abandoning the dog, with Faith on her heels. They both dove for the box and pawed through the pastries like ravening wolves.
Willow pouted. "But I have croissants.....! Bananas, too."
"Sorry, Will," Dawn spoke around a mouthful of custard filled Long John. "Need more sugary goodness if we're going to be trekking around all over town today."
The redhead sighed and pressed 'Print' on her computer before joining them and snagging the fattest jelly doughnut she could find.
***********
Xander parked under the weathered neon sign proclaiming this the "Sleep Tite Inn". As he locked the car, he hoped Rufus wouldn't tear up the upholstery while they were carrying out their mission. The dog's yapping was muffled by the closed door, but its worried face was slobbering up the window, and Xander felt fairly certain it would keep right on barking the whole time they were gone.
"Okay, tell me again what I'm supposed to say. I'm terrible at undercover stuff. Now if you'd just ask me to go in there and smash the guy up against the wall until he gives us the information...that I could handle."
"No smashing, Faith. Misdirection....like a magic trick. You're the fussy Mrs. who wants to check out a room before we commit to staying there. I'm the annoyed hubby waiting for you. The moment you get the clerk away from the desk, I'm in like Flint."
"Whatever." Faith sauntered ahead of him with such an air of long- suffering boredom that it was easy to play annoyed. Things had been pretty awkward between them all morning once they no longer had Dawn and Willow as a buffer. It was hard to believe this prickly bitch was the same woman who had been on him like paint on a wall last night. Obviously flirting and fondling were nixed in the light of day. Well hell, what had he expected, anyway? It was only dancing.
Xander put on what he hoped was a 'patient husband' face and followed Faith into the office of the very seedy motel that was their first stop on Willow's list. The place was 20 minutes off the nearest highway and Xander couldn't imagine what would lure anyone, especially a snobby Watcher-type, miles out of his way to stay here. It was obviously a haven for trysting couples and drug deals and not much else.
One look at the operator of this fine establishment had the banjo theme from "Deliverance" playing in Xander's head. A scrawny, balding man, face seamed with wrinkles, stared at them from behind the counter with the empty eyes of a snake.
"Good morning," Xander greeted, coming up behind Faith and resting a hand on her lower back in a proprietary gesture.
Bubba scratched the stubble on his chin and continued to gaze at them blankly.
"Sign says you have rooms available," Faith prompted helpfully.
"Yup."
"What's your rate?"
"Ten bucks an hour. Cash only."
"You rent by the hour!"
"Yup."
"Oh. Well, um....," Xander was losing momentum. There was no way John Macardle would've stayed in a god-forsaken crapper like this.
"Let me see the room first," Faith spoke her line in as stilted a manner as a child reciting in a school play.
"Yeah. My girlfriend here is kinda fussy," Xander covered with a weak laugh. "Can you show her one of the rooms, while I, um, wait here?"
The clerk stared, mouth slightly open and (Could it actually be? Yes it was.) drool pooling at one corner.
"Blink once for yes, twice for no," the young man couldn't help but quip. When in doubt, jokey inanities fell like rain from his lips.
"Ya want the room?" the man finally spoke.
"I don't know. Depends on the number of fleas. Now are you gonna show me one or what?" Faith snarled.
The clerk and Faith engaged in a High Noon stare-down for several seconds, while Xander nervously tried to smooth things over.
"Hey, buddy. You know how it is. We just want some alone time, but, uh, Doris here wants to make sure our little love nest is, ah, suitable. So, can you just humor her....please?"
The man sighed and reached for a key from the pegboard on the wall. Wafting on a breeze of sour sweat, he led the way from the room. Faith shot Xander a quick thumbs up behind his back as she followed him out.
The moment the door closed, Xander leaped behind the counter and grabbed up the grimy, black covered register there. He flipped pages, noting the preposterous number of John and Mary Smiths signed in. Why did they even bother to take names at all?
Then suddenly it caught his eye. In neat sloping script - Mr. John Macardle - and the date, only two nights ago! What had possessed him to spend the night here? Guy must have been exhausted from driving. And what in Sunnydale had stolen the Watcher away? Demon? Vampire? Human? Was he still alive? Being held ransom? Or had he disappeared permanently the way so many did in this town?
Xander quickly noted the room number, slammed the book shut and screamed out loud at the ghostly pale little girl who suddenly stood before him. She peered up at him through crossed eyes, while mining her nose with an index finger. He let out a somewhat hysterical giggle, as he backed around to the other side of the counter.
"Hiya, honey. You gave me a scare. I didn't hear you come in. Is that your grandpa...er...dad who runs the place?"
The kid silently followed him around the counter, now snacking on the salty treasure she had dug out of her nasal cavity, but never losing eye contact.
"Well, you're a quiet one. What's your name?" Xander continued to babble under her slate-eyed regard. "Oh. Your daddy probably told you not to talk to strangers, and he's right. Especially in this town. So, you probably shouldn't be out here. Why don't you go back..wherever it is you came from and wait for your dad there?"
The girl's little mouth dropped open and Xander waited.and waited..for her to speak, discovering that it was possible for drooling to be hereditary. Finally a thin, high-pitched voice broke loose from her little chest.
"You got sumpin' to eat?" she asked.
"Uh, no. No candy or..or gum," he answered.
"I'm hungry."
"Well.....sorry. I don't have anything." Xander searched his coat pockets and felt a lint covered lump. "No. Wait. Actually..." He reached his hand out, offering an ancient peppermint, long since out of its cellophane wrap.
The girl lunged greedily, her tiny, sharp fingernails raking his hand as she grabbed the sweet. He pulled back quickly. Popping the candy into her mouth, the child frowned in frustration.
"No!" She spit the peppermint out onto the floor. "I'm HUNGRY," she explained patiently, advancing toward Xander, who automatically stepped back from her reptilian stare.
A whoosh of cool air swirled from behind, letting him know that Faith and ole Bubba were back in the office. Xander turned, smiling gratefully.
"So, honey, did it meet with your approval? Cause I sure would like to rent a room now."
"Marcy, you get youself outta here!" The proprietor barked and the child scurried away as quickly as she had popped up.
"Cute kid you got there," Xander said. "She's real...personable."
"You want a room?" Faith verified.
"Definitely."
"We'll take one then," Faith told the man, who shuffled back behind the counter to complete the transaction.
As Xander paid for an hour and signed the register, he tried to think of some non-obvious way to request room 12, where Macardle had stayed, but he had to accept the keys to number 8 instead.
Back outside, they released Rufus from the car and he leaped against one then the other of them as if he had been left behind for days. Xander marveled at how quickly the mutt had become attached. They headed to their room, Faith unlocked the door, and the stale odor of mildew and recycled air gushed out.
"Okay. What's the scoop?" she asked as soon as she'd closed the door behind them. "And what was with that weird kid?"
"Your Watcher checked in here two nights ago. He stayed in room 12, but I could hardly ask for a specific room. You can pick the lock while I make sure Bubba's not watching. I'll ask for ice or something. And THAT was the scariest little kid I've ever seen in my life. Something is way off about this place."
"What makes you think I know how to pick locks?" Faith demanded. Xander just gave her a look, and she sighed. "Fine. You're the plan guy. I'm just along for the ride. What kind of stuff do you want me to look for? I told you I'm crap at this detective stuff."
"Well, signs of a struggle - anything broken. Look close for smears of blood, and if you find any sign of it, take a sample. Also hairs from the pillow or bathroom. Any personal possessions that might've been left behind or clues about where he was going next. Don't you watch TV, Faith?"
"Shut up! I get it, already. Just give me a minute to find a tool."
Xander flopped down on the single, saggy bed and looked around the room, while Faith searched the drawers for a paperclip or anything pointy. From the threadbare carpet to the faded prints on the walls, this room looked pretty much like home to Faith. It was a carbon copy of any of the dozens of places she had stayed in her traveling life. She knew she wouldn't find anything in the empty drawers to suit her needs.
"You know, it would've been real nice if you'd warned me ahead of time so I could've brought something along," she complained.
"Oh!" Xander sat up, suddenly, struck by a thought. "Would this help?"
Faith just glared as she took the pocketknife from his hand.
"Sorry." He smiled in embarrassment and jumped up to grab the ice bucket and assume his duties as decoy.
When Xander entered the office again, it was empty, but he could hear a drone of voices coming from the back room. Good. He'd skip the "I need ice" excuse as long as the man was otherwise occupied. He strolled around the room, looking at the prints of hunters and ducks on the walls and the rack of pamphlets advertising the many attractions in Sunnydale and surrounding areas, most of which were so faded and outdated it was clear they hadn't been touched since someone had placed them there. He picked one out and began to read about a petting zoo that had once existed where the mall was now.
"Well howdy there!" A booming voice startled him so that he knocked over the rack of pamphlets and just caught it before it fell. He turned to see the ugliest woman he had ever beheld beaming at him from behind the counter. Her tobacco stained teeth, sans the front pair, were revealed in a wide smile that was more reminiscent of a crocodile's grin than of, say, Santa Claus. Her bulk, however, was that of the patron saint of Christmas, only with a flowered muumuu replacing the red suit.
"H-hi!" Xander stammered, he held the bucket out in front of him, "Um...ice?"
"Ice machine's on the side of the building," she gestured with a thumb.
"Oh. I didn't notice it. Thanks. D-do you own the place? It sure is nice."
"Yup. Me an' Bernie been here since....well, since before you was born."
"Bernie? He the guy who checked us in?" Xander hoped to hell the man hadn't gone out the back way and wasn't catching Faith in the act of breaking and entering right now.
She nodded. "That's my Bernie. And you met little Marcy, too, I hear."
"Yeah. She's a sweetie.....JESUS!" Little Marcy had materialized seemingly out of nowhere again, practically right at his elbow. She gazed up at him from her disconcertingly crossed eyes that were as devoid of life as a shark's.
"Marcy just loves our visitors. Don't you, hon?" The woman moved out and around the counter, gliding surprisingly lightly for someone so large.
"Hey, Marcy," Xander managed to say. "How you doin'?"
"We just don't get enough visitors away out here off the main routes. It's nice to see a young couple like yourselves come through." Standing right in front of him now, Mrs. Claus of the many-tumored face reached out a hand and enveloped Xander's in a firm, sweaty grip. "Name's Velma Joskovitch. Pleased to meet ya."
"Uh, Dick," Xander pulled away from the handshake. "Dick and D- Dora...Doris Tidwell."
"Where you folks from?" She leaned toward him and he backed up a step...and bumped into silent Marcy.
"Oh. Sunnydale. We're not out-of-towners. As a matter of fact everyone knows us around town. Like I told Bernie, we just needed a little alone time....away from the...the kids. Yeah, they'd be calling a search party out if we were gone for long! Heh, heh." He began sidling toward the door. "Well, my...Dora...will be waiting for me, so I better get that ice and....yeah.... Be seeing you." He exited quickly and practically sprinted for the room.
He fumbled with the lock and slipped inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
"What the hell? What kind of lookout are you? I practically got busted by that freakshow from the front desk," Faith instantly started in on him. "I just got outta there in time."
"Did you find anything?" Xander asked, gasping for breath, and peering through the blinds to see if any of the clan was out there.
"Jackpot. Book called "The Guildstone Prophecies" which had fallen between the wall and the bed. Only a Watcher would read something so boring. AND...," Faith brandished a chunk of linoleum in one hand and a piece of molding in the other, "Blood samples."
"Jeez, Faith! You're supposed to take scrapings, not chunks of the room."
"Screw you, Harris. Got what we came for, didn't I? Can we leave now? 'Cause this place is seriously creepy."
"You're telling me! I just met Mrs. Bubba and sweet little Marcy again. I'm not sure they're human." Xander glanced around the room. "Hey, where's the dog?"
"He ran out past me when I came in. I figured he had to do his business so I let him go. It's not like he's gonna take off very far."
A scratching at the door verified her words. Faith jumped up from the chair she was straddling and opened it. Rufus barreled into the room and straight to his new master. He gave a muffled bark around the big stick he held in his mouth.
"Hey, boy. You found a toy, eh? You wanna play fetch? Well, maybe later." Xander reached to accept the dog's offering. "Wow, you got yourself a really big sti...." He gave a yelp and dropped the thing. It wasn't a branch, or even a piece of roadkill. A human tibia with shreds of muscle and skin still attached lay between Faith and Xander on the floor of the Sleep Tite motel.
to be continued
Xander woke up an inch from the edge of the bed. A warm body pressed up against his back and with a little snuffle pushed him even closer to falling out. He pushed back hard and yanked at the blanket, which was barely covering him.
It was all Buffy's fault. "Oooh the poor little dog," she said. "You have to take him home, Xander. You need a companion! And just look at him. Look at his wittle face. He's so cute. Yes he is. Yes he is."
If the wittle dog was so cute, why wasn't it living at Buffy's house right now and shoving her - or better yet, Spike - out of bed? Xander sighed and gave another pull on the blanket, making the dog whine and roll over. Great, more covers, but now the dog's rough paw pad was resting on Xander's ear.
He gave up and closed his eyes tight, trying to ease back into the dream he'd been enjoying as he slept in on this fine Sunday morning. Something about dancing and naked bodies..yeah, naked bodies, good... The phone rang.
"Rrrff! Rrrfff!" The dog leaped up, barking.
Xander whacked at it, "Shut up, mutt!" and scrambled for the phone. "Hello?"
"Good morning, Sunshine? You coming over for breakfast?" Willow's chipper voice grated like fingernails on a chalkboard.
"Will, in all the years we've been friends, have you ever known me to get up before.." He glanced at the clock, "eleven o'clock on a weekend?"
"Sorry," she said, not sounding dampened in the least. "Well, when you're ready come on over. Croissants and computers. Dawn and I are cracking into police reports to try and find the missing vehicle, and we've already compiled a list of places to contact around Sunnydale to see if Macardle checked in anywhere. That's your assignment."
"All right, you I can understand, but Dawn's a relatively normal teenage girl. You're telling me she's up and at 'em already?"
"Hey, Xander," Dawn's voice echoed tinnily letting him know they were on speakerphone. "Get your butt out of bed. It's a gorgeous day, and if you hadn't gotten yourself plastered last night you'd have some ambition to get up and enjoy it!"
"Dawn."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up." He smiled as he hung up the phone.
Laying there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the dog pant in his ear, he thought about the previous night at the Bronze. He hadn't really gotten wasted, but with another few beers, a couple of shots and a LOT of slow dancing with Faith - it had been a pretty fun evening. Memorable. Man, life could turn on a dime and surprise you. He never would have guessed yesterday morning that in 24 hours time he'd be reacquainted with a beautiful, if kind of frightening, woman and sleeping with..he turned his head and inhaled rancid breath..a dog.
Xander jumped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Time to see what another 24 hours would bring.
************
Faith sat on a chair in the corner, her eyes glazed over, chewing on a hangnail. She winced as another gale of laughter broke out from the pair huddled over their computer terminals. What the hell kind of drugs were these babes on, anyway? No one got that kind of a kick out of reading police reports about John Does and abandoned cars. And what exactly the hell was she supposed to be doing to help? Couldn't they have waited until they had something for her to do before dragging her out of bed? She noticed no one had even mentioned Queen Buffy getting her scrawny butt over here. No. Precious was too busy bonking her undead boyfriend to be disturbed.
Faith sighed, picked a piece off her croissant and crumbled it. "S'okay," she told herself. "Just be glad you're out of the hole and go with the flow." It's not like she wasn't grateful - extremely grateful - to be here and to be treated so well by this group of people she had, let's face it, tried to kill on occasion. But the camaraderie and goddamn cheerfulness were starting to get to her. After over three years of self imposed solitude, it was just overwhelming. She was itching to be off on her own again.
Last night, now, that had been fun. A little battle, a little booze and a warm body to press up to. These were things Faith could wrap her mind around. Of course, she could've done with a little more body pressing than what she got on the dance floor, but still, it was nice. Felt sexy and good and it was a long, long time since she'd felt those things.
The girl smiled bitterly at her thoughts. Yeah, not since she'd boffed Buffy's soldier boy, and that not even in her own body, had she felt all womanly. Her own five digits had seen her through these last few years, but though they were handy (pun intended) they hardly brought the same pleasure a good hard screw could.
She glanced up quickly, almost afraid that super-witch Willow could read her mind, but, no, the pair still had their noses practically embedded in one of the two computer screens. "Have you tried this?" "Oh, coool. I didn't know you could..." "Wow. Look at that list of offenders." "I can't believe they don't have better security. Some of this information is.." "Willow, did you see CSI last week? That's what I want to do someday." "You'd be good at it. You really have an eye for details."
Faith yawned and closed her eyes, slipping under the waves of chatter like a drowning woman and drifting off to sleep.
************* "That's it!" Dawn's excited cry, wrenched her out of a dream about hands. There was something about trying on gloves that didn't fit, big woolly gloves that made it hard to hold her stake, and a nauseating feeling of something unfinished and very important that she was supposed to do. Faith snapped awake with a "Huh?"
"Look! Look! Look!" Dawn was pointing at her screen and Willow leaned over to see. "Who's good? Oh yeah! That's me. Uh-huh." Dawn sing- songed, as she did a little chair dance.
"You got it!" Willow agreed. "'99 Ford Concord LX, dark gray, no license plate, found in a ravine off Parris Rd. Some hikers reported it..wow, just this morning. No papers, no driver, no id at all."
"That's the make and model Macardle rented, but with the license plate removed.. Not a good sign. Something bad's happened to your Watcher."
Faith had joined them and was peering over Dawn's shoulder at the information. Against her nature she deferred to their obvious research authority, "Um. is there anything I can do? Start asking around at the Marriott or something?"
"Oh, we've already covered that," Dawn enthused. "See, last night Willow compiled a list of all the places he could have possibly stayed in Sunnydale from the best hotel to the cheapest dive and every bed and breakfast in between, and this morning we started calling." Dawn dropped her voice to a husky tone. "Hello. Can you please connect me to Mr. John Macardle's room. No. I'm not sure of the number. He would've checked in yesterday, or maybe the day before...No guest by that name? Well, thank you very much. He must have given me the wrong hotel."
"Worked like a charm most of the time. Now we just have a short list of places to check out in person. Places where they wouldn't give out information over the phone. It seems like most of the better hotels were booked solid because of the U.C. Sunnydale/Baskin U. football game."
"As soon as Xander gets here, we can split up," Willow decided. "Dawn and I'll go to the crash scene and see if we can find something the police overlooked. Maybe there's a sign of the supernatural - demon spawn or something. Meanwhile, you and Xander can go to these motels, some of them are quite a way out of town, and try to check out their registers. Maybe one of you can be a distraction, while the other takes a look." Willow looked up at Faith, "uh..that is, if it's okay with you. I mean, you're the Slayer."
"Sure. Whatever you think," Faith conceded. "I'm a killer not a planner. Big kudos for you two finding out all this stuff! I wouldn't have known where to begin."
A knock sounded at the door, and Xander entered without waiting for a "Come in."
"Hey, all."
The dog raced into the room ahead of him and ran straight to Faith, who gave him a quick pat on the head. Dawn, however, fell to her knees beside the canine and gave him big kisses and cuddles.
"Oh, aren't you a good, good dog," she cooed. "Xander, what you gonna name him? How about Rufus? That's cute. Or.." She rattled off a list of possibilities.
"Good morning! Grab some breakfast? I've got croissants and oranges." Willow gestured at a plate on the table, set out next to a basket of fresh fruit.
"Uh, no thanks, I brought doughnuts," Xander grinned sheepishly, as he produced the box.
"Doughnuts!" Dawn was up like a shot, abandoning the dog, with Faith on her heels. They both dove for the box and pawed through the pastries like ravening wolves.
Willow pouted. "But I have croissants.....! Bananas, too."
"Sorry, Will," Dawn spoke around a mouthful of custard filled Long John. "Need more sugary goodness if we're going to be trekking around all over town today."
The redhead sighed and pressed 'Print' on her computer before joining them and snagging the fattest jelly doughnut she could find.
***********
Xander parked under the weathered neon sign proclaiming this the "Sleep Tite Inn". As he locked the car, he hoped Rufus wouldn't tear up the upholstery while they were carrying out their mission. The dog's yapping was muffled by the closed door, but its worried face was slobbering up the window, and Xander felt fairly certain it would keep right on barking the whole time they were gone.
"Okay, tell me again what I'm supposed to say. I'm terrible at undercover stuff. Now if you'd just ask me to go in there and smash the guy up against the wall until he gives us the information...that I could handle."
"No smashing, Faith. Misdirection....like a magic trick. You're the fussy Mrs. who wants to check out a room before we commit to staying there. I'm the annoyed hubby waiting for you. The moment you get the clerk away from the desk, I'm in like Flint."
"Whatever." Faith sauntered ahead of him with such an air of long- suffering boredom that it was easy to play annoyed. Things had been pretty awkward between them all morning once they no longer had Dawn and Willow as a buffer. It was hard to believe this prickly bitch was the same woman who had been on him like paint on a wall last night. Obviously flirting and fondling were nixed in the light of day. Well hell, what had he expected, anyway? It was only dancing.
Xander put on what he hoped was a 'patient husband' face and followed Faith into the office of the very seedy motel that was their first stop on Willow's list. The place was 20 minutes off the nearest highway and Xander couldn't imagine what would lure anyone, especially a snobby Watcher-type, miles out of his way to stay here. It was obviously a haven for trysting couples and drug deals and not much else.
One look at the operator of this fine establishment had the banjo theme from "Deliverance" playing in Xander's head. A scrawny, balding man, face seamed with wrinkles, stared at them from behind the counter with the empty eyes of a snake.
"Good morning," Xander greeted, coming up behind Faith and resting a hand on her lower back in a proprietary gesture.
Bubba scratched the stubble on his chin and continued to gaze at them blankly.
"Sign says you have rooms available," Faith prompted helpfully.
"Yup."
"What's your rate?"
"Ten bucks an hour. Cash only."
"You rent by the hour!"
"Yup."
"Oh. Well, um....," Xander was losing momentum. There was no way John Macardle would've stayed in a god-forsaken crapper like this.
"Let me see the room first," Faith spoke her line in as stilted a manner as a child reciting in a school play.
"Yeah. My girlfriend here is kinda fussy," Xander covered with a weak laugh. "Can you show her one of the rooms, while I, um, wait here?"
The clerk stared, mouth slightly open and (Could it actually be? Yes it was.) drool pooling at one corner.
"Blink once for yes, twice for no," the young man couldn't help but quip. When in doubt, jokey inanities fell like rain from his lips.
"Ya want the room?" the man finally spoke.
"I don't know. Depends on the number of fleas. Now are you gonna show me one or what?" Faith snarled.
The clerk and Faith engaged in a High Noon stare-down for several seconds, while Xander nervously tried to smooth things over.
"Hey, buddy. You know how it is. We just want some alone time, but, uh, Doris here wants to make sure our little love nest is, ah, suitable. So, can you just humor her....please?"
The man sighed and reached for a key from the pegboard on the wall. Wafting on a breeze of sour sweat, he led the way from the room. Faith shot Xander a quick thumbs up behind his back as she followed him out.
The moment the door closed, Xander leaped behind the counter and grabbed up the grimy, black covered register there. He flipped pages, noting the preposterous number of John and Mary Smiths signed in. Why did they even bother to take names at all?
Then suddenly it caught his eye. In neat sloping script - Mr. John Macardle - and the date, only two nights ago! What had possessed him to spend the night here? Guy must have been exhausted from driving. And what in Sunnydale had stolen the Watcher away? Demon? Vampire? Human? Was he still alive? Being held ransom? Or had he disappeared permanently the way so many did in this town?
Xander quickly noted the room number, slammed the book shut and screamed out loud at the ghostly pale little girl who suddenly stood before him. She peered up at him through crossed eyes, while mining her nose with an index finger. He let out a somewhat hysterical giggle, as he backed around to the other side of the counter.
"Hiya, honey. You gave me a scare. I didn't hear you come in. Is that your grandpa...er...dad who runs the place?"
The kid silently followed him around the counter, now snacking on the salty treasure she had dug out of her nasal cavity, but never losing eye contact.
"Well, you're a quiet one. What's your name?" Xander continued to babble under her slate-eyed regard. "Oh. Your daddy probably told you not to talk to strangers, and he's right. Especially in this town. So, you probably shouldn't be out here. Why don't you go back..wherever it is you came from and wait for your dad there?"
The girl's little mouth dropped open and Xander waited.and waited..for her to speak, discovering that it was possible for drooling to be hereditary. Finally a thin, high-pitched voice broke loose from her little chest.
"You got sumpin' to eat?" she asked.
"Uh, no. No candy or..or gum," he answered.
"I'm hungry."
"Well.....sorry. I don't have anything." Xander searched his coat pockets and felt a lint covered lump. "No. Wait. Actually..." He reached his hand out, offering an ancient peppermint, long since out of its cellophane wrap.
The girl lunged greedily, her tiny, sharp fingernails raking his hand as she grabbed the sweet. He pulled back quickly. Popping the candy into her mouth, the child frowned in frustration.
"No!" She spit the peppermint out onto the floor. "I'm HUNGRY," she explained patiently, advancing toward Xander, who automatically stepped back from her reptilian stare.
A whoosh of cool air swirled from behind, letting him know that Faith and ole Bubba were back in the office. Xander turned, smiling gratefully.
"So, honey, did it meet with your approval? Cause I sure would like to rent a room now."
"Marcy, you get youself outta here!" The proprietor barked and the child scurried away as quickly as she had popped up.
"Cute kid you got there," Xander said. "She's real...personable."
"You want a room?" Faith verified.
"Definitely."
"We'll take one then," Faith told the man, who shuffled back behind the counter to complete the transaction.
As Xander paid for an hour and signed the register, he tried to think of some non-obvious way to request room 12, where Macardle had stayed, but he had to accept the keys to number 8 instead.
Back outside, they released Rufus from the car and he leaped against one then the other of them as if he had been left behind for days. Xander marveled at how quickly the mutt had become attached. They headed to their room, Faith unlocked the door, and the stale odor of mildew and recycled air gushed out.
"Okay. What's the scoop?" she asked as soon as she'd closed the door behind them. "And what was with that weird kid?"
"Your Watcher checked in here two nights ago. He stayed in room 12, but I could hardly ask for a specific room. You can pick the lock while I make sure Bubba's not watching. I'll ask for ice or something. And THAT was the scariest little kid I've ever seen in my life. Something is way off about this place."
"What makes you think I know how to pick locks?" Faith demanded. Xander just gave her a look, and she sighed. "Fine. You're the plan guy. I'm just along for the ride. What kind of stuff do you want me to look for? I told you I'm crap at this detective stuff."
"Well, signs of a struggle - anything broken. Look close for smears of blood, and if you find any sign of it, take a sample. Also hairs from the pillow or bathroom. Any personal possessions that might've been left behind or clues about where he was going next. Don't you watch TV, Faith?"
"Shut up! I get it, already. Just give me a minute to find a tool."
Xander flopped down on the single, saggy bed and looked around the room, while Faith searched the drawers for a paperclip or anything pointy. From the threadbare carpet to the faded prints on the walls, this room looked pretty much like home to Faith. It was a carbon copy of any of the dozens of places she had stayed in her traveling life. She knew she wouldn't find anything in the empty drawers to suit her needs.
"You know, it would've been real nice if you'd warned me ahead of time so I could've brought something along," she complained.
"Oh!" Xander sat up, suddenly, struck by a thought. "Would this help?"
Faith just glared as she took the pocketknife from his hand.
"Sorry." He smiled in embarrassment and jumped up to grab the ice bucket and assume his duties as decoy.
When Xander entered the office again, it was empty, but he could hear a drone of voices coming from the back room. Good. He'd skip the "I need ice" excuse as long as the man was otherwise occupied. He strolled around the room, looking at the prints of hunters and ducks on the walls and the rack of pamphlets advertising the many attractions in Sunnydale and surrounding areas, most of which were so faded and outdated it was clear they hadn't been touched since someone had placed them there. He picked one out and began to read about a petting zoo that had once existed where the mall was now.
"Well howdy there!" A booming voice startled him so that he knocked over the rack of pamphlets and just caught it before it fell. He turned to see the ugliest woman he had ever beheld beaming at him from behind the counter. Her tobacco stained teeth, sans the front pair, were revealed in a wide smile that was more reminiscent of a crocodile's grin than of, say, Santa Claus. Her bulk, however, was that of the patron saint of Christmas, only with a flowered muumuu replacing the red suit.
"H-hi!" Xander stammered, he held the bucket out in front of him, "Um...ice?"
"Ice machine's on the side of the building," she gestured with a thumb.
"Oh. I didn't notice it. Thanks. D-do you own the place? It sure is nice."
"Yup. Me an' Bernie been here since....well, since before you was born."
"Bernie? He the guy who checked us in?" Xander hoped to hell the man hadn't gone out the back way and wasn't catching Faith in the act of breaking and entering right now.
She nodded. "That's my Bernie. And you met little Marcy, too, I hear."
"Yeah. She's a sweetie.....JESUS!" Little Marcy had materialized seemingly out of nowhere again, practically right at his elbow. She gazed up at him from her disconcertingly crossed eyes that were as devoid of life as a shark's.
"Marcy just loves our visitors. Don't you, hon?" The woman moved out and around the counter, gliding surprisingly lightly for someone so large.
"Hey, Marcy," Xander managed to say. "How you doin'?"
"We just don't get enough visitors away out here off the main routes. It's nice to see a young couple like yourselves come through." Standing right in front of him now, Mrs. Claus of the many-tumored face reached out a hand and enveloped Xander's in a firm, sweaty grip. "Name's Velma Joskovitch. Pleased to meet ya."
"Uh, Dick," Xander pulled away from the handshake. "Dick and D- Dora...Doris Tidwell."
"Where you folks from?" She leaned toward him and he backed up a step...and bumped into silent Marcy.
"Oh. Sunnydale. We're not out-of-towners. As a matter of fact everyone knows us around town. Like I told Bernie, we just needed a little alone time....away from the...the kids. Yeah, they'd be calling a search party out if we were gone for long! Heh, heh." He began sidling toward the door. "Well, my...Dora...will be waiting for me, so I better get that ice and....yeah.... Be seeing you." He exited quickly and practically sprinted for the room.
He fumbled with the lock and slipped inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
"What the hell? What kind of lookout are you? I practically got busted by that freakshow from the front desk," Faith instantly started in on him. "I just got outta there in time."
"Did you find anything?" Xander asked, gasping for breath, and peering through the blinds to see if any of the clan was out there.
"Jackpot. Book called "The Guildstone Prophecies" which had fallen between the wall and the bed. Only a Watcher would read something so boring. AND...," Faith brandished a chunk of linoleum in one hand and a piece of molding in the other, "Blood samples."
"Jeez, Faith! You're supposed to take scrapings, not chunks of the room."
"Screw you, Harris. Got what we came for, didn't I? Can we leave now? 'Cause this place is seriously creepy."
"You're telling me! I just met Mrs. Bubba and sweet little Marcy again. I'm not sure they're human." Xander glanced around the room. "Hey, where's the dog?"
"He ran out past me when I came in. I figured he had to do his business so I let him go. It's not like he's gonna take off very far."
A scratching at the door verified her words. Faith jumped up from the chair she was straddling and opened it. Rufus barreled into the room and straight to his new master. He gave a muffled bark around the big stick he held in his mouth.
"Hey, boy. You found a toy, eh? You wanna play fetch? Well, maybe later." Xander reached to accept the dog's offering. "Wow, you got yourself a really big sti...." He gave a yelp and dropped the thing. It wasn't a branch, or even a piece of roadkill. A human tibia with shreds of muscle and skin still attached lay between Faith and Xander on the floor of the Sleep Tite motel.
to be continued