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Visions of You
Chapter 1
by Tami
Washington D.C., Crime Scene #3, Two Days Later
It was dusk when Booth pulled up outside a bank building. The SUV lurched to a halt and he got out. He walked up to the POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS, flashed his badge at the uniform standing guard and ducked under the tape. He went into the building where there were more uniforms and the forensic people buzzing around.
Booth went past them to the manager’s office. The room was in a totally disarray. There were papers strung all over the place, the heavy oak desk and chair was overturned. There were broken shards of glass littering the floor. File cabinets were knocked askew. It made Booth think that two linebackers ransacked the place over a football. Except the body on the floor would have been a little less dead and more abrasions than the deep slices on his body that could be seen through shredded clothing. At least the man still had a face, albeit scratched up. There was a female examiner crouched over the body.
“What do we have here?” Booth asked as he took out his pocket notebook.
“Male, I’d say around 45 years old, looks like he was mauled,” the examiner replied.
“Similar to the others,” Booth commented as he scribbled on his notepad. He glanced at the name plate on the desk, “Harold Watson?”
“Yeah, bank manager.”
Booth picked up a picture frame. The image inside was of a woman and little boy a
bit older than Parker. “It looks like he was married and had a son.” He put the frame back where he found it. “So, any clue on what caused wounds like that?”
“My guess is a large dog,” the examiner said.
“Like a werewolf?” Booth suggested offhandedly.
The examiner scoffed. “Yeah right! Do you have any silver bullets for that gun of yours?”
After the things he’d witnessed in Los Angeles and Las Vegas with Angel, Spike and Drusilla being vampires? Seeley didn’t think that he was too far off in making a suggestion about werewolves. He felt the stirs of arousal when the three vampires crossed his mind.
He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Then, how did a dog get past security, make it into the office without breaking the doorjamb and,” he gestured at the body, “attack Mr. Watson here?”
The examiner stood up and shrugged. “Maybe it was a ferocious Yorkie?”
Booth raised an eyebrow at that. “You’re kidding, right?”
“It’s the best I can give you until I get him to the lab,” the examiner said. She peeled off her gloves and was on her way out of the office to find her team to move the body when Booth stopped her.
“Why is it that the only people I know that willing to look over a dead body are female?” he pondered out loud.
She turned and smiled at him. “We’re not squeamish, like most men are.”
“I’m not squeamish,” Booth declared.
She laughed and walked away. Booth skirted around the body and followed her out. He caught a couple of people
in jumpsuits labeled ‘FORENSIC’ and told them that he wanted copies of their report sent to his office as soon as possible. One of them nodded and walked away. Seeley went in the opposite direction to interview a few of the employees.
A few hours later, Seeley stepped out of the building and ducked under the POLICE LINE again. He stopped short of the car when he felt a tingling go up his spine. The sun had already set and there was a quarter-moon out which meant, if the legend was correct, that he could scratch ‘werewolf’ off his list of possible suspects. Feeling his spine prickle even more, Seeley looked out into the night but saw nothing. He shrugged, jumped in the SUV and drove away, oblivious to Spike watching him from across the street.
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FBI Headquarters, J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, D.C.
Seeley was in his office typing up the investigation on the case of the bank manager, Harold Watson. He’d managed to interview four of the employees on site, with promise of follow up interviews later and tracked down the recent widow. After the crying hysterics, and she was calm enough to resume the questioning, Seeley was able to find out that Harold was a loving, if distant, father and husband who kept his wife and son in comfort. Nevertheless, he was too busy for little league or anything his son was interested in. But, being a manager of a bank did garner a few enemies from the ‘rejected’ patrons, disgruntled employee, and sometimes an ill-advised business partner. Mrs. Watson could not fathom who would want to harm her husband as bad as was reported.
Seeley clicked ‘SAVE’ and sat back, looking at the clock. 11:45 p.m. With any luck, he’d be home by 12:30 a.m. He stood up from the chair to stretch the kinks out of his back and walked over to the window. He cracked open the blinds and looked out into the night. Seeley thought he saw Angel standing on the sidewalk across the street, looking up at him. The dark vampire was in his favorite black duster, his hair spiked, and handsome cheekbones visible in the moonlight.
“Don’t you know what it means to clock out?” Special Agent Tim Sullivan asked from the doorway.
Seeley took his eyes from the dark figure below and looked at his colleague. “Yes. I was about to leave for home after my report saved.”
“I don’t see how you can deal with this job the way you are. I want to do other things with my life than being an FBI agent,” Sully shook his head.
Seeley looked out the window again to find Angel gone. He shrugged and walked to his desk. He checked the file to make sure it saved, shut down his computer, put on his suit jacket and tossed on his overcoat.
“I happen to like this job, Sully. It gives me purpose,” Seeley replied as he followed Sully out of the room.
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Washington DC, Seeley Booth’s Apartment
Seeley tiredly walked into his apartment, kicking the door shut with his foot and locked it. He picked his mail up off the floor and skimmed through it. Finding nothing of interest, he tossed the envelopes on the kitchen counter. He kicked off his shoes and trudged wearily to the shower ignoring the tingling feeling he’d been experiencing the last couple of days. He didn’t notice the dark haired female vampire peeking through his window, tracking his movement with her doe-eyes.
Booth turned the shower on and shed his clothes. Tossing a towel within easy reach, he stepped into the shower and leaned forward with his hands against the wall, letting the hot water beat against his aching back. He thought he heard familiar tinkling giggles over the spray. Seeley opened the shower door and glanced around, seeing and hearing nothing. He shrugged and shut the door, resuming the shower.
For two days now, Seeley had this tingling sensation run up his spine periodically. It felt as if there was someone he knew nearby, but every time he looked, no one was there. Tonight he thought he saw Angel across the street from his office and now he was hearing laughter that sounded like Drusilla. That couldn’t be, could it? Not with them in Las Vegas. Sure, Drusilla had that vision of him, but why was he imagining these things when they clearly weren’t there?
Seeley shook his head and ducked under the water to wash his hair and rinse away the soap that he had lathered on himself while lost in thought. So far, the victims tallied up to a lawyer, a teacher, and a bank manager, but what was the connection? They seemed random from the outside, so what was the common link? Maybe the connection had something to do with the people in the killer’s life? What human would go so far as to make it look like the victims were mauled? Drusilla said the killer was hunting him, but he didn’t know any of the victims. Maybe, this time she was wrong? Had Drusilla ever been wrong? He didn’t know.
Once everything was rinsed clean, he shut the water off and toweled dry. He wrapped the towel around his waist, and brushed his teeth. Then, he went into his bedroom and pulled on a pair of underwear. He pulled the curtains back, still feeling that prickle on his spine that someone was near, but nothing was outside. He replaced the curtain, sat on the bed and put his 9mm service piece on the bedside table just to be cautious. He wasn’t going to take any chances. With Drusilla’s vision, he wanted to be prepared and try to sleep easier.
Outside, under a tree across the street from Seeley’s apartment stood Angel, Spike and Drusilla. They had been watching him since they got into town two days ago. They observed him work from afar, enough to see that he could handle himself at his job. At the same time, they’ve been hunting for the killer themselves. Always below the radar which hadn’t been easy around Seeley since he was a part of them now. He could sense them. So far, Spike and Drusilla had managed to stay hidden, knowing that Seeley could sense them nearby. However, Angel had deliberately put himself out in the open as a sign that they were watching his back.
“Do you think this cat-and-mouse game isn’t giving him neurosis?” Spike asked.
“No. He’s aware of us, subconsciously. He may want to believe he’s seeing things, but he’s been marked and tasted Aurelian blood,” Angel replied.
“I thought you said that was diluted with animal blood?” Spike asked with an inquisitive brow.
“It was, but he still tasted it, swallowed it,” Angel said as he watched the darkened windows of Seeley’s apartment. “It’s in his system now, just enough to feel us.”
“I’m hungry,” Drusilla pouted as she rubbed her tummy.
“I know baby-girl,” Angel acknowledged, taking her hand. “Let’s find you a blood bank. I don’t think Seeley would appreciate us adding to the current body count.”
Drusilla looked back at Seeley’s darkened windows as Angel led her away. “Do you think he’ll be fine as daisies? I could leave Miss Edith to watch him. She’s been good all year, you know? Though, she doesn’t like this place. There are too many snakes and sharks that want to snap-snap-snap. It’s rather painful. Too much corruption, if humans are corrupt, are they not like us?”
“I think Miss Edith has become finicky in her old age,” Spike grumbled.
“Bad Spike! Such a mean thing to say about our dear Edith. You will be whipped and shall have no cake today,” Drusilla admonished.
That made Angel snigger. It seemed that Spike and Miss Edith had a falling out somewhere along the line. “Now, Dru, I’m sure Miss Edith knows that Spike has a way
of running off at the mouth. I think that if he apologizes, everything will be all right.”
“Not bloody likely,” Spike said softly. “That doll holds a grudge the size of Mount Everest, which I know she hasn’t climbed.”
“How do you know she hasn’t climbed it?” Angel teased.
“Oh, please, Angelus, you really believe that doll is possessed by a demon?” Spike asked skeptically.
“All dolls are possessed. Look what happened with the whole Smile Time TV show,” Angel pointed out.
“Okay, that was demons possessing puppets, mate. The idea that a 135-year-old collector doll is possessed is ridiculous,” Spike said.
Drusilla pouted sadly when she heard what Spike thought of her companion. “Daddy, Spike deserves a thousand lashes for impudence.”
“He deserves a lot more than that,” Angel agreed. “However, he’s long past the age of a fledgling. Too old to correct the error of his ways, no matter how much you want to spank him, kitten. He’ll never learn.”
“I’d like to see you try, old man,” Spike challenged.
Spike really should have kept his mouth shut. The next that could be heard was the clink of a belt buckle, the zip of the leather being yanked through the belt loops and then a “YEOW!” from a blonde menace as it cracked against the worn leather duster so hard that Spike felt sting through the material and his jeans. Angel and Drusilla giggled like conspiring children. Angel threaded his belt through the loops again while Spike glared at them and rubbed his sore ass.
“That was so bloody wrong,” Spike scowled.
“Shouldn’t have challenged me then, besides you had it coming,” Angel said as he stopped to buckle the belt again. Then, he grabbed Drusilla’s hand and proceeded to walk past his childe who was still scowling, and called out, “Are you coming?”
“That’s a loaded question, mate,” Spike grumbled as he followed close behind.
Angel turned and gave Spike a wicked smirk that reminded him of Angelus and went on his way with Drusilla in tow.
“Do you remember where we parked the rental?” Spike asked.
“Of course I do, it’s over there,” Angel said pointing to an economy car parked on a side street illuminated by the street lamp.
“Still can’t believe you rented an economy car,” Spike grumbled. “It’s a bucket of rust compared to what we got back home.”
“You’d figure with the way your life has gone, up ’til now, that you’d know how to compromise and adjust,” Angel said.
“Not if I don’t have to,” Spike replied.
Just then, Drusilla stopped and Angel, still holding on to her hand, was jerked to a halt. He looked inquisitively at her and saw that she was looking up at the night sky.
“It’s the sky, Dru,” Angel said, stating the obvious.
“It’s so pretty,” she observed in a faraway tone.
“It’s the same sky as you see in Vegas,” Angel pointed out.
“No, it isn’t,” Drusilla insisted. “The stars are brighter here. The lights in Vegas drown out the stars. You can barely see them through the neon colors. The stars are able to twinkle here. They burn so, like a million candles. Do you suppose they are candle tips?”
“No, Dru. They aren’t candles. They are massive, luminous balls of plasma that are billions of years old,” Angel said, his tone was
as if he’d explained this concept to her a thousand times.
“But, they have burning cherubs up there,” she said still looking up. Her neck was starting to ache from this position.
“They aren’t cherubs, they’re constellations and they definitely aren’t burning,” Angel said.
“Be lucky that she’s seeing them at night, Angel. She usually sees them during the day, under a roof,” Spike chuckled. He was used to her babbling about the stars for the better part of a century. It was nice to see Angel having to deal with it for once.
Angel cuffed Spike on the back of the head and tugged Drusilla along to the car, “Come on. We need to get to the blood bank before you two start seeing happy meals on legs.”
“Happy meals on . . .? Where did you hear that?” Spike asked.
“Buffy told me a while a back that you referred to humans as ‘happy meals with legs’,” Angel shrugged as he neared the vehicle.
“Ahh, the Slayer’s been telling tales outside of school, then? Bugger!”
“It isn’t a tale if it’s true, is it?” Angel opened the driver’s door and gestured for Drusilla to climb in and get into the back seat. “Just get in the car, Spike!”
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