Chapter Four--The Bronze

I was feeling flush with cash, so I took a cab back my place to pick up my little German spy camera and a couple of rolls of high-speed film, then squeaked by my ever vigilant landlord to retrieve the DeSoto. I knew the place was going to be packed with locals with their paychecks cashed and looking for some kind of action. It was getting on for eleven by the time I found a secluded spot to look out for the blonde. I finally spotted her across the room swabbing up the swill of beer and fending off drunken passes from the college boys. I slunk around to a dark corner and clicked off a dozen shots of her. She looked beyond exhausted, her long blonde hair hanging in unkempt sweaty clumps. Very unlike the glamourous siren in the portrait.

I waited until just before closing time, then slipped outside to locate an inconspicuous spot near the dumpster. Oh yeah, detectives lead a damn fascinating life. I took a deep breath of the delightful eau de garbage, and hunkered down.
I didn't have long to wait before she came out the back door. She swung a tan holdall down from her shoulder and rambled inside it for a moment, oblivious to her surroundings. I figured she wasn't used to watching her back, since everyone in Demontown knew whose wife she was.
Well, everyone except for one guy. Of course, he wasn't a man. He leapt directly into her path, black leather swirling like a poor man's Dracula. A vampire. Who else would wear leather in this heat? I tensed, ready to leap out to her defense. I needn't have bothered.

he growled, stepping up close to her, cocky and smiling like a tiger.

Spike. Go. Away. As in, go home. She wasn't the least bit afraid, turning her back to him and starting away. Be smart, please?

Buffy, listen... he moved into her path again, closer, and the conversation got low and intimate.

Now this was looking interesting. Who was this guy? I took a few shots of the pair They looked like they were on real familiar terms, friendly even. Like something was going on. Something that would make the Ripper none too pleased.
He got up close enough to count her eyelashes and tilted his head. I could see it in his face.... she was his world, his everything. He reached out a long white finger and stroked down along the tense line of her jaw line, speaking with his eyes. She leaned in a little toward him, then like a flash, pulled a foot long wooden stake from her bag and shoved it into the place where his chest had been. Damn, this woman had cojones. He stood five feet away with a cynical grin firmly in place, then with a deep rumble of laughter, disappeared into the greasy haze rolling in off the ocean.

She shook her hair back out of her face and called to me, You can come out now. I know you're back there.
So much for my brilliant detective skills.
Um, hi there. Hello. Excellent job, Xander, very stealthy. Try again. I'm Olsen. Alexander Olsen with the Daily Bugle.

Her lips tipped up in a little smile. Uh huh. And I'm Lois Lane. Try again. She snatched me up one handed by the lapels of my jacket and shoved me against the bricks. Oh hell and damnation. Not human. No way.

I choked out, You're a demon.
She let go of my coat and frowned, And you're human. What the hell do you want with me? And the truth this time or...

Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a bunch. Your husband hired me to shadow you. Take a few pictures. That's it, honest.

She snorted at that. Why won't he let me be? Her eyes darkened and she glared off into the distance. I could hear her grinding her teeth. All I want it to be left alone. To have a little piece of a normal life. That's it. Just a moment.

And the divorce has nothing to do with that Spike guy?

She laughed, a sad little sound. Not a chance. I'm through with demons. Forever. I want my life to be like it was before...before.

She was lost in thought for a moment. I looked around this dingy alley and wondered what she really wanted. A life like this? Working for nickels and dimes in a cheap dive like the Bronze, being groped by ignorant thugs? Not living the high life in a big mansion courtesy of her demon hubby?

I was so young, when we met. He was so much older than me, distinguished and handsome. I was flattered that he was interested in me. I thought I loved him, really. He was so nice to me. Then he changed.
Yeah, but into what? I snorted.
It wasn't like that. He wasn't evil, really. He was human, a scholar, before... Then, about seven years ago, he began to manifest the demonic aspects.
She continued murmuring her tale, sitting beside me on an upturned box in the alley.
He told me that when he was young, he'd started playing around with sorcery, hanging out on the wrong side of the tracks with the wild demon crowds. He make a pact with one, bound himself to it. Foolishly. One thing led to another. He wanted to be powerful. To be more--to have more. Now, he is as he is.
And you can't handle it?
He's lost everything that ever made me love him. That made him human. He's done...things. Horrible, unforgivable things. He wanted to...he wants.... Her huge hazel eyes filled with unshed tears. It probably wasn't the first time she'd cried over him.
Look, Mrs. Giles, I'm sorry. I was just hired to take some pictures.

Mr. Whoever---Olsen, I don't have time for your games or Rupert's. I'm begging you, leave me alone! He big eyes lit with impatience, Or you might find out why I'm called the Slayer.
I know I was being stupid and I don't know why I did it, It's Harris, ma'am. Xander Harris. Look, I'm really sorry, I really I am.
But you need the money, huh? Mr. Harris, sod off. She hissed. She flounced off, swinging the big canvas bag. I was miserable from the heat and the cheap beer I tossed down at the Bronze. I was sick from the emotional roller coaster ride, too. What kind of a life had this girl led? No wonder the low-life at the Bronze seemed like a step up for her.