Journey to Destiny - Chapter 9
Dec. 15th, 2003 10:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psubratAuthor: PSUbrat
Rating: PG-13 Some language and violence
Disclaimer and spoiler warning: All characters, except Geoffrey, Garrick and Bronwyn, belong to Joss Whedon and whomever else he sells them to, I’m just borrowing them for a while. This story is based upon the alternate universe I created in Reset.
Summary: Giles and Spike discuss the future while Spike tries to cope with what it means being a human…
Timeframe: Immediately following “Denial Thy Name Is Spike”
Spike rolled over on his back and winced in pain as something sharp poked into his shoulder blade. He partially opened one eye as he tried to clear away the cobwebs of sleep that spun around his tired brain. Not recognizing his surroundings at first, both eyes snapped opened as he struggled to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The confusion subsided as his memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. He was now somewhere safe, so he could relax, except that something hard was poking his shoulder and causing him to be uncomfortable. Paying close attention to what it felt like, he finally realized that it was the spiral binding of the notebook. Bloody hell! He had fallen asleep with the damn journal.
Sighing, he made no move to retrieve the book, just left it there, digging into his skin - ignoring it and everything else around him. All he wanted to do was stay in this room, under the covers and ignore the world. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was since the sounds of the world outside flooded his ears, making it tougher to lose himself in the sleep that he wanted to wrap around him. Suddenly he sat up, growled, tossed the notebook across the room and then flung himself back down on the bed, pulling the covers over him until nothing but his messy mop of curls stuck out. That’s when something tickled his nose and set his senses on fire. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did. His stomach rumbled in response. It was the rich aroma of coffee and something else…something that just made his mouth water in anticipation. Was that eggs?
He sat up again, bolt upright this time, and sniffed the air. Had food always smelled this good? Stumbling out of bed, his legs wobbling a little, but he steadied himself long enough to throw on some pants. For a second he felt a little lightheaded as well. That’s when he realized he was famished. Slowly he followed his nose, down the hallway, through the lounge room and into the kitchen where Giles was scrambling eggs and heating up baked beans. He stood in the doorway taking in the sights and smells.
“Good morning, Spike,” Giles stated as he busily put bread in the toaster and placed a plate full of eggs on the table. “I trust you slept well?”
Spike looked at him in surprise. It was going to take some time getting used to the Watcher treating him nicely. He kept expecting there to be some sort of catch to it. Running his fingers through his hair, he nervously looked at Giles, and then to the food on the table, and then back at Giles. His stomach growled audibly.
“What are you waiting for?” Giles asked with a frown. “A bloody invitation or what? You don’t need those anymore. Sit down Spike. God knows you could use a little meat on those bones.”
It took all he had to not rush to the table and start gobbling down the food that was placed there. In fact, he hesitated, still lingering at the door, unsure of how to proceed. If he had still been a vampire, it would have been easy – grab the blood packet, throw it in a microwave and heat until 98.7 degrees. This was real food. Sustenance. He had eaten human food before and enjoyed it, despite that it did nothing for him at the time, but now it was different, and he actually had to eat it to survive. The thought frightened him. Okay, yeah, he had been eating food for the last three weeks – sort of – but that was only because Zareb had made him eat breads and fruits, but he hadn’t eaten anything else.
Giles watched as the emotions and uncertainty crossed Spike’s face. “It’s not poisoned,” he remarked casually. “I’m not the best cook but I can hold my own. Go on now, sit down.” He walked over and pulled out a chair for Spike to sit in. Like Spike, he’d have to get used to the fact that the man that stood in the doorway of the kitchen wasn’t the vampire that he once knew. In fact, right now the former vampire looked a bit more like a scared, lost child instead of the possible male slayer that he might be.
Spike shuffled slowly over to the chair and sat down. The food smelled so good it was overpowering his other senses, so he just sat there and stared. Why did he feel so helpless? Why was he so scared? He was human now and as a human he was required to eat. It wasn’t that difficult – all he had to do was pick up the fork and scoop up the eggs, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Are you alright?” Giles asked with a frown, concern coating his voice. Had the operation to remove the chip caused brain damage of some sort?
“Uhm, yeah, suppose I am.” He managed a small smile as he continued to stare at the eggs.
“I’m not going to feed you, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
Spike snorted in response. Just the mental image of Giles trying to feed him eggs and beans was amusing. “I’m not waiting for anything. It’s just that I…I’m scared, Giles.” There, he’d said it. “I’m not sure I know how to take care of myself now. For the last three weeks I’ve had Zareb telling me what to do. If it weren’t for the two of you, I’d probably have died by now.” He looked into Giles eyes pleadingly. “How am I going to take care of myself?”
“Spike, just relax,” Giles replied as he sat down next to Spike and poured him a glass of orange juice. “It’s eggs, not the future of mankind. It’ll take some time, no doubt, for you to get used to being human, but it’s really no different than how you survived as a vampire.”
“Suppose you’re right, Watcher. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all of this…stuff.” He paused for a moment, tilted his head and regarded the glass of juice with interest. Taking a deep breath, he picked it up and took a sip. The liquid was tangy and sweet as it rolled over his taste buds and down his throat. Not half bad, and it hadn’t been that hard to do. Next he picked up the fork, shoveled some eggs onto it and then took a bite. He didn’t think anything as mundane as scrambled eggs would taste so good. Greedily he began devouring the food on his plate, barely breathing as he did so.
“Spike, slow down!” Giles warned, grabbing Spike’s wrist before he could eat another forkful of eggs. “You’re going to make yourself sick. Slow down. Chew your food carefully.” He felt like he was speaking to a child and in a way, he supposed he was. Despite the fact that Spike was almost 130 years old, he was only human for three weeks. It would take time to adjust from one life style to the other. “There’s plenty more.” That was true, there was definitely more and if Spike wanted additional servings, he’d make it for him just to make sure the man ate.
Spike stopped in mid chew and looked at Giles uncertainly. He put his fork down and finished chewing what he had in his mouth and then took a swig of juice to wash it down. “Sorry, mate. It’s just that it tastes…”
“I know, but you have to be careful. The last thing I need right now is for you to start choking or making yourself sick. We don’t exactly know how your body is going to react to human food again, Spike. Just take it easy.”
Nodding, Spike picked up his fork and started eating again, slowly, savoring every morsel that passed over his tongue. Heaven. His mind began to wander, thinking about what else he might eat that day. Steaks and hamburgers and french fries. The possibilities were endless! If food tasted this good now that he was human, he wondered what else might possibly be better. Perhaps even sex…
“Spike?” Giles prodded, a look of concern crossing his face. Where had the man’s thoughts just drifted?
“Huh?” He asked, blushing slightly while he slowly chewed his food.
“I was just asking if you’d had the chance to think about your future. What you might do now that you’re human.”
Spike put the utensil down and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “I hadn’t really given it much thought. Just that I’m not going back to Sunnydale. Ever.”
“I see,” Giles replied as he stirred his coffee, deep in thought. “For someone who’s lived the span of several lifetimes, you’d think you might have some idea of what you’d like to do with yourself now.”
“Not like I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes or anything,” Spike responded. “Besides, becoming human was never an option. Blood, death, mayhem – that’s what was always on the job market for me. Didn’t need to think about much else.”
Giles nodded. “That’s quite true.” He paused, and then continued. “What did you want to be before you were turned?”
Spike laughed defensively. “You don’t wanna know. I was a ponce. And I’m not now, so just get that smirk off your face. Only ponce we know is Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding.”
“Come now, Spike. It couldn’t have been all that bad. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
“No.” There was no way he was sharing his past life with Giles. It would just be held against him later.
Giles sighed as he realized that Spike wasn’t going to budge. No need to keep pushing him. “Alright then. I suppose I could always use another hand at the shop.”
“Yeah? I dunno, Giles. That means working with people. Not sure I’m up to that yet. Don’t do well in crowds, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“You’ll do fine. Besides, it’s a good way to slowly integrate yourself back into the world, don’t you think?”
“Suppose I could do that. It’d be better than just hanging out here with nothing to do. You don’t even have a telly, man!”
“Well, I do,” Giles stated matter of factly. “I just choose to keep it hidden from the other Watchers.” He grinned at Spike and Spike couldn’t help but grin back. “However, you’ll not find ‘Passions’ here.”
“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” Spike responded with a sigh. “May as well just go into the shop with you then. You gonna pay me to work?”
Giles paused, cup in mid air, and looked hard at his houseguest. “I see some things never change no matter what crisis one goes through.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Spike. I will be paying you for your hours but if you plan to be staying with me long, you’ll need to pull your fair share.”
“My fair share? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said. There are chores to be done around the flat, meals to be made and a vehicle that needs to be maintained, as well as bills to be paid. If you’re going to be my flatmate, I expect that you’ll be sharing with the upkeep.”
Spike sat in his seat, his mouth gaping. “So that’s it then, is it? Trying to make me a productive citizen of society and all that rot?”
“Yes, something like that. Now that you’re human, Spike, you’re going to have to deal with the consequences, which means working and paying bills.”
Spike snorted his reply. He did just fine nicking things when he was a vamp, he figured that he’d just keep doing that as a human. Then again, he could end up in prison now and not be able to talk his way – or kill his way – out. The Watcher had a valid point and his shoulders slumped at the realization.
Giles clapped Spike on the back as he got up to clear the table. “Welcome to the real world, Spike. Now grab that tea towel and help me with the dishes.”
The trip to the shop was made in a comfortable silence since Giles and Spike had already discussed, over the cleanup of the breakfast dishes, what duties Spike would be expected to perform while working at the Iron Cauldron. Instead of taking advantage of the lack of conversation and taking a nap, Spike took the chance to watch the view from the passenger seat while Giles drove them into London. There really wasn’t much to see other than houses and cars and then more buildings and more cars. Things had changed quite a bit from the last time he had been through the area and things had definitely changed from the time he had been turned. It made him homesick for Sunnydale because there he knew things would still be familiar.
The traffic hadn’t been as heavy as yesterday afternoon, but Giles’ driving had been enough to further fray Spike’s already worn nerves. By the time they arrived and parked as near to the shop as they could, he was more than happy to jump out of the car and walk the few blocks back. That’s when he decided that from now on, he’d take the Tube into the city instead. The snarled roads were just too heavily traveled for his liking.
As they reached the door to the shop, Spike noted that the sign had been turned to ‘open’. Oz must already be inside. Things were about to get interesting, not as much as the day before, but definitely not dull.
“Spike, please assist Oz with the inventory while I go make a few phone calls.”
Spike nodded his reply and walked over to where the werewolf was busily shelving books from a box that had arrived the previous day – an hour or so before Spike had shown up and disrupted their lives. He felt sorta bad about that in a way, causing more work not only for Giles, but for Oz as well.
“You missed the gig last night,” Oz stated as he opened another large box of books so that Spike could work on one of his own.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that, mate. Was a bit busy with the Watcher.”
“That’s cool,” Oz replied casually. “Didn’t think you’d be able to make it anyway. Maybe next time.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Spike said with smile as he took a few books out of the box and proceeded to line them up on a shelf that Oz had pointed to. “How’d the band do?” He asked, suddenly feeling interested in the werewolf’s life.
“We rocked, as usual,” Oz replied with a shrug. “Our next gig’s on Saturday. You should come.”
Spike nodded and smiled. “Might have to do that seein’ as how I’ll be around for a while now.” This was nice. Not the work itself, but the camaraderie they were sharing. He could get used to this. Maybe being a loner in a new world wasn’t the best idea after all.
“So Giles let you live,” Oz pointed out with a wry grin. “Which is always good.”
“Yeah,” Spike replied. “Bit surprised about that actually. Not that he didn’t try though. Beat me up right and proper.”
Oz’s eyes narrowed while he looked Spike over from head to toe. “Huh, you look fine to me.”
“What?” Spike asked absently, still unloading the box. He wasn’t really paying attention to Oz and hadn’t seen the look on the young man’s face – not that he really expected there to be any type of expression on Oz’s face, there never seemed to be any other time.
“Still the same old liar, I see,” Oz commented, returning to his task.
“What?” Spike demanded, dropping the books back into the box with a thud. The comment had surprised him. Where was this coming from?
Oz leaned on the shelf with one hand while he regarded Spike with dark eyes. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Giles, but if you think you can just come in here and start making up stories about him…”
Spike frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a step back. “Just what are you prattling on about?”
“The fact that you look perfectly normal for someone who’s had the crap beat out of them.”
“Oh.” Spike winced, looking down at his arms and hands and realizing that there wasn’t a mark on them. Probably wasn’t a mark on his face by now either. He had forgotten that he had promised to let Giles tell Oz what had transpired the previous evening. Damn. “Funny story, that…”
“It seems,” Giles stated, interrupting Spike and stepping into the conversation while dunking his teabag into the hot water, “that Spike here is a bit more than meets the eye.”
Spike sighed audibly as he relaxed. The bloke had good timing. He honestly didn’t know what he would have told the werewolf.
“Really?” Oz asked, eyes still locked on Spike. “How’s that?”
“Well I’m not sure of anything, yet, but I believe Spike is the equivalent of a Slayer.”
Oz raised his eyebrows in response.
“Yeah, whatever,” Spike stated, rolling his eyes. “I don’t believe it for a minute, but Rupert here seems to be convinced. Guess that’s why he’s a Watcher and I’m just a bookstore employee.”
“Quite. Of course, Oz, I don’t need to remind you that this conversation stays between us. The last thing that Spike, or I, need right now is for the Council to be banging down my door and whisking him away to be ‘examined’.”
“Understood,” Oz replied, nodding his head as well. The thought of anyone being taken by the Council for questioning or examination made him uneasy. Some of the people, well other wolves, that he had hung with when he had first gotten to town had been taken by the Council – and had never returned.
“Good,” Giles responded, knowing that Oz would be true to his word. “We’ll talk more about this later, after the two of you have finished stocking the shelves. For the time being, I’ll be in my office. I’m expecting a visitor so please bring him back when he arrives.”
Oz nodded.
“Sure thing, Watcher,” Spike replied, turning back to his box of books. That had gone rather well if he did say so himself. A little smoother than he had expected though. After shelving a few more books, he paused and turned towards Oz. “Thanks,” he said sincerely. “I appreciate you keeping this quiet.”
“Not a problem,” Oz responded. “There’s more boxes in the back. I’ll go get them. Just keep doing what you’re doing while I’m gone.”
Five minutes passed, and then ten, and the young werewolf still hadn’t returned from the back. “Boxes my ass,” Spike growled under his breath. “He’s back there with Giles, gettin' the low down on me. Bloody well figures. Couldn’t ask me himself, could he?” Just then the bell rang over the door, announcing that a customer had arrived. He sighed and cursed silently to himself while looking up at the ceiling in a ‘why me, God’ sort of way. He could just tell that the damned bell would set him off sooner or later – that and having to deal with customers day in and day out. What had he gotten himself into?
He poked his head around the corner to see who had entered. It was a man, in his mid to late twenties, dark hair and dark eyes and dressed impeccably. He watched as the customer wandered over to the counter, looking somewhat bored. Before he could hide back around the shelving, the man spotted him.
“You there, perhaps you could help me.”
“Uh,” Spike started, not sure what he could possibly do to help him. Damn. If Oz had just returned when he said he would or if he had just been a little faster or ignored the bell all together, he wouldn’t have to worry about this. Oh well, too late now. He put on his best smile and walked over to the man. “I can try to help you. Is there something in particular that you’re looking for?”
“You’re new here.”
“Yeah, just started today as a matter of fact.” He didn’t like the tone the man was taking with him so he took a step back and glared, his defenses kicking in.
“Yes, I thought maybe you had,” the man sniffed. “I don’t recognize you.”
Brilliant. Just what he needed – a recurring customer that acted like they owned the place.
“I’m here to see my cousin. Would you be so kind as to let him know I’ve arrived.”
“Your cousin?” Spike asked, quirking an eyebrow. This guy had to be here for Giles since he was just too stuffy to be related to Oz. “Let me guess. Tall British guy, glasses, sort of bookish?”
The man frowned at him in response. “Is that any way to regard your employer?”
Spike snorted. Time for a little fun. He may not be evil anymore but he still had his snark by damn. “Hey Giles!” He bellowed at the top of his lungs. “There’s a ponce out here who says he’s your cousin.”
After cringing in response to Spike’s shouting, the man glowered at him. Spike just smiled in return, suddenly making the man very uneasy. There was something about him…
“Ah, Garrick!” Giles stated as he exited his office, Oz in tow.
“Rupert, good to see you again. Hello Daniel.”
“Heya Gar. How’s it goin’?” Oz asked as he came up next to Spike. Garrick smiled in response.
Spike watched the exchange with feigned interest. As he turned to make his way back to his box of books, Giles grabbed his arm.
“I see you’ve met William then,” Giles said, putting an arm around Spike’s shoulders to keep him from going anywhere.
“Yes, but not formally. Fortunately. I’d say his blatant disregard for your authority makes me not want to meet him at all.”
What a git! Spike narrowed his eyes and took a step towards Garrick. He hadn’t noticed that the man had taken a step back, concern flashing in his eyes, until Giles put a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him from ripping Garrick to shreds. He softened a bit and let the anger recede. “First, sod off, mate! Second, you don’t even know me…”
“And I’d rather not,” Garrick replied, his cool façade returning as he cut off Spike’s retort. He then directed his next statement towards Giles, as if Spike no longer existed. “If this is the kind of help you’re employing these days, cousin, I suggest you start looking elsewhere.”
Giles smiled. This was not going well. He should have known that his cousin and Spike would not get along. Spike usually rubbed people the wrong way on first meeting. “Why don’t you follow me back to the office, Garrick, and we’ll discuss what news you have about that ‘project’.”
“Excellent idea, Rupert.” He paused and then turned to Oz. “Good to see you again, Daniel. Do take care.”
Giles led Garrick back to the small office that he occupied when not busy ringing up customers or helping Oz with the inventory. “Please, sit down.”
“I really believe you need to fire that insubordinate, vile…”
“I’ll not be firing William, in fact I have something I wish to run by you, but not until after you tell me what your latest investigations have uncovered.” He paused, looking down at his cousin. “Tell me, what is the Council up to now?”
Go to chapter ten...
Rating: PG-13 Some language and violence
Disclaimer and spoiler warning: All characters, except Geoffrey, Garrick and Bronwyn, belong to Joss Whedon and whomever else he sells them to, I’m just borrowing them for a while. This story is based upon the alternate universe I created in Reset.
Summary: Giles and Spike discuss the future while Spike tries to cope with what it means being a human…
Timeframe: Immediately following “Denial Thy Name Is Spike”
- 9 -
A Thousand Lifetimes
A Thousand Lifetimes
Spike rolled over on his back and winced in pain as something sharp poked into his shoulder blade. He partially opened one eye as he tried to clear away the cobwebs of sleep that spun around his tired brain. Not recognizing his surroundings at first, both eyes snapped opened as he struggled to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The confusion subsided as his memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. He was now somewhere safe, so he could relax, except that something hard was poking his shoulder and causing him to be uncomfortable. Paying close attention to what it felt like, he finally realized that it was the spiral binding of the notebook. Bloody hell! He had fallen asleep with the damn journal.
Sighing, he made no move to retrieve the book, just left it there, digging into his skin - ignoring it and everything else around him. All he wanted to do was stay in this room, under the covers and ignore the world. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was since the sounds of the world outside flooded his ears, making it tougher to lose himself in the sleep that he wanted to wrap around him. Suddenly he sat up, growled, tossed the notebook across the room and then flung himself back down on the bed, pulling the covers over him until nothing but his messy mop of curls stuck out. That’s when something tickled his nose and set his senses on fire. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did. His stomach rumbled in response. It was the rich aroma of coffee and something else…something that just made his mouth water in anticipation. Was that eggs?
He sat up again, bolt upright this time, and sniffed the air. Had food always smelled this good? Stumbling out of bed, his legs wobbling a little, but he steadied himself long enough to throw on some pants. For a second he felt a little lightheaded as well. That’s when he realized he was famished. Slowly he followed his nose, down the hallway, through the lounge room and into the kitchen where Giles was scrambling eggs and heating up baked beans. He stood in the doorway taking in the sights and smells.
“Good morning, Spike,” Giles stated as he busily put bread in the toaster and placed a plate full of eggs on the table. “I trust you slept well?”
Spike looked at him in surprise. It was going to take some time getting used to the Watcher treating him nicely. He kept expecting there to be some sort of catch to it. Running his fingers through his hair, he nervously looked at Giles, and then to the food on the table, and then back at Giles. His stomach growled audibly.
“What are you waiting for?” Giles asked with a frown. “A bloody invitation or what? You don’t need those anymore. Sit down Spike. God knows you could use a little meat on those bones.”
It took all he had to not rush to the table and start gobbling down the food that was placed there. In fact, he hesitated, still lingering at the door, unsure of how to proceed. If he had still been a vampire, it would have been easy – grab the blood packet, throw it in a microwave and heat until 98.7 degrees. This was real food. Sustenance. He had eaten human food before and enjoyed it, despite that it did nothing for him at the time, but now it was different, and he actually had to eat it to survive. The thought frightened him. Okay, yeah, he had been eating food for the last three weeks – sort of – but that was only because Zareb had made him eat breads and fruits, but he hadn’t eaten anything else.
Giles watched as the emotions and uncertainty crossed Spike’s face. “It’s not poisoned,” he remarked casually. “I’m not the best cook but I can hold my own. Go on now, sit down.” He walked over and pulled out a chair for Spike to sit in. Like Spike, he’d have to get used to the fact that the man that stood in the doorway of the kitchen wasn’t the vampire that he once knew. In fact, right now the former vampire looked a bit more like a scared, lost child instead of the possible male slayer that he might be.
Spike shuffled slowly over to the chair and sat down. The food smelled so good it was overpowering his other senses, so he just sat there and stared. Why did he feel so helpless? Why was he so scared? He was human now and as a human he was required to eat. It wasn’t that difficult – all he had to do was pick up the fork and scoop up the eggs, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Are you alright?” Giles asked with a frown, concern coating his voice. Had the operation to remove the chip caused brain damage of some sort?
“Uhm, yeah, suppose I am.” He managed a small smile as he continued to stare at the eggs.
“I’m not going to feed you, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
Spike snorted in response. Just the mental image of Giles trying to feed him eggs and beans was amusing. “I’m not waiting for anything. It’s just that I…I’m scared, Giles.” There, he’d said it. “I’m not sure I know how to take care of myself now. For the last three weeks I’ve had Zareb telling me what to do. If it weren’t for the two of you, I’d probably have died by now.” He looked into Giles eyes pleadingly. “How am I going to take care of myself?”
“Spike, just relax,” Giles replied as he sat down next to Spike and poured him a glass of orange juice. “It’s eggs, not the future of mankind. It’ll take some time, no doubt, for you to get used to being human, but it’s really no different than how you survived as a vampire.”
“Suppose you’re right, Watcher. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all of this…stuff.” He paused for a moment, tilted his head and regarded the glass of juice with interest. Taking a deep breath, he picked it up and took a sip. The liquid was tangy and sweet as it rolled over his taste buds and down his throat. Not half bad, and it hadn’t been that hard to do. Next he picked up the fork, shoveled some eggs onto it and then took a bite. He didn’t think anything as mundane as scrambled eggs would taste so good. Greedily he began devouring the food on his plate, barely breathing as he did so.
“Spike, slow down!” Giles warned, grabbing Spike’s wrist before he could eat another forkful of eggs. “You’re going to make yourself sick. Slow down. Chew your food carefully.” He felt like he was speaking to a child and in a way, he supposed he was. Despite the fact that Spike was almost 130 years old, he was only human for three weeks. It would take time to adjust from one life style to the other. “There’s plenty more.” That was true, there was definitely more and if Spike wanted additional servings, he’d make it for him just to make sure the man ate.
Spike stopped in mid chew and looked at Giles uncertainly. He put his fork down and finished chewing what he had in his mouth and then took a swig of juice to wash it down. “Sorry, mate. It’s just that it tastes…”
“I know, but you have to be careful. The last thing I need right now is for you to start choking or making yourself sick. We don’t exactly know how your body is going to react to human food again, Spike. Just take it easy.”
Nodding, Spike picked up his fork and started eating again, slowly, savoring every morsel that passed over his tongue. Heaven. His mind began to wander, thinking about what else he might eat that day. Steaks and hamburgers and french fries. The possibilities were endless! If food tasted this good now that he was human, he wondered what else might possibly be better. Perhaps even sex…
“Spike?” Giles prodded, a look of concern crossing his face. Where had the man’s thoughts just drifted?
“Huh?” He asked, blushing slightly while he slowly chewed his food.
“I was just asking if you’d had the chance to think about your future. What you might do now that you’re human.”
Spike put the utensil down and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “I hadn’t really given it much thought. Just that I’m not going back to Sunnydale. Ever.”
“I see,” Giles replied as he stirred his coffee, deep in thought. “For someone who’s lived the span of several lifetimes, you’d think you might have some idea of what you’d like to do with yourself now.”
“Not like I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes or anything,” Spike responded. “Besides, becoming human was never an option. Blood, death, mayhem – that’s what was always on the job market for me. Didn’t need to think about much else.”
Giles nodded. “That’s quite true.” He paused, and then continued. “What did you want to be before you were turned?”
Spike laughed defensively. “You don’t wanna know. I was a ponce. And I’m not now, so just get that smirk off your face. Only ponce we know is Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding.”
“Come now, Spike. It couldn’t have been all that bad. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
“No.” There was no way he was sharing his past life with Giles. It would just be held against him later.
Giles sighed as he realized that Spike wasn’t going to budge. No need to keep pushing him. “Alright then. I suppose I could always use another hand at the shop.”
“Yeah? I dunno, Giles. That means working with people. Not sure I’m up to that yet. Don’t do well in crowds, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“You’ll do fine. Besides, it’s a good way to slowly integrate yourself back into the world, don’t you think?”
“Suppose I could do that. It’d be better than just hanging out here with nothing to do. You don’t even have a telly, man!”
“Well, I do,” Giles stated matter of factly. “I just choose to keep it hidden from the other Watchers.” He grinned at Spike and Spike couldn’t help but grin back. “However, you’ll not find ‘Passions’ here.”
“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” Spike responded with a sigh. “May as well just go into the shop with you then. You gonna pay me to work?”
Giles paused, cup in mid air, and looked hard at his houseguest. “I see some things never change no matter what crisis one goes through.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Spike. I will be paying you for your hours but if you plan to be staying with me long, you’ll need to pull your fair share.”
“My fair share? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said. There are chores to be done around the flat, meals to be made and a vehicle that needs to be maintained, as well as bills to be paid. If you’re going to be my flatmate, I expect that you’ll be sharing with the upkeep.”
Spike sat in his seat, his mouth gaping. “So that’s it then, is it? Trying to make me a productive citizen of society and all that rot?”
“Yes, something like that. Now that you’re human, Spike, you’re going to have to deal with the consequences, which means working and paying bills.”
Spike snorted his reply. He did just fine nicking things when he was a vamp, he figured that he’d just keep doing that as a human. Then again, he could end up in prison now and not be able to talk his way – or kill his way – out. The Watcher had a valid point and his shoulders slumped at the realization.
Giles clapped Spike on the back as he got up to clear the table. “Welcome to the real world, Spike. Now grab that tea towel and help me with the dishes.”
******
The trip to the shop was made in a comfortable silence since Giles and Spike had already discussed, over the cleanup of the breakfast dishes, what duties Spike would be expected to perform while working at the Iron Cauldron. Instead of taking advantage of the lack of conversation and taking a nap, Spike took the chance to watch the view from the passenger seat while Giles drove them into London. There really wasn’t much to see other than houses and cars and then more buildings and more cars. Things had changed quite a bit from the last time he had been through the area and things had definitely changed from the time he had been turned. It made him homesick for Sunnydale because there he knew things would still be familiar.
The traffic hadn’t been as heavy as yesterday afternoon, but Giles’ driving had been enough to further fray Spike’s already worn nerves. By the time they arrived and parked as near to the shop as they could, he was more than happy to jump out of the car and walk the few blocks back. That’s when he decided that from now on, he’d take the Tube into the city instead. The snarled roads were just too heavily traveled for his liking.
As they reached the door to the shop, Spike noted that the sign had been turned to ‘open’. Oz must already be inside. Things were about to get interesting, not as much as the day before, but definitely not dull.
“Spike, please assist Oz with the inventory while I go make a few phone calls.”
Spike nodded his reply and walked over to where the werewolf was busily shelving books from a box that had arrived the previous day – an hour or so before Spike had shown up and disrupted their lives. He felt sorta bad about that in a way, causing more work not only for Giles, but for Oz as well.
“You missed the gig last night,” Oz stated as he opened another large box of books so that Spike could work on one of his own.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that, mate. Was a bit busy with the Watcher.”
“That’s cool,” Oz replied casually. “Didn’t think you’d be able to make it anyway. Maybe next time.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Spike said with smile as he took a few books out of the box and proceeded to line them up on a shelf that Oz had pointed to. “How’d the band do?” He asked, suddenly feeling interested in the werewolf’s life.
“We rocked, as usual,” Oz replied with a shrug. “Our next gig’s on Saturday. You should come.”
Spike nodded and smiled. “Might have to do that seein’ as how I’ll be around for a while now.” This was nice. Not the work itself, but the camaraderie they were sharing. He could get used to this. Maybe being a loner in a new world wasn’t the best idea after all.
“So Giles let you live,” Oz pointed out with a wry grin. “Which is always good.”
“Yeah,” Spike replied. “Bit surprised about that actually. Not that he didn’t try though. Beat me up right and proper.”
Oz’s eyes narrowed while he looked Spike over from head to toe. “Huh, you look fine to me.”
“What?” Spike asked absently, still unloading the box. He wasn’t really paying attention to Oz and hadn’t seen the look on the young man’s face – not that he really expected there to be any type of expression on Oz’s face, there never seemed to be any other time.
“Still the same old liar, I see,” Oz commented, returning to his task.
“What?” Spike demanded, dropping the books back into the box with a thud. The comment had surprised him. Where was this coming from?
Oz leaned on the shelf with one hand while he regarded Spike with dark eyes. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Giles, but if you think you can just come in here and start making up stories about him…”
Spike frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a step back. “Just what are you prattling on about?”
“The fact that you look perfectly normal for someone who’s had the crap beat out of them.”
“Oh.” Spike winced, looking down at his arms and hands and realizing that there wasn’t a mark on them. Probably wasn’t a mark on his face by now either. He had forgotten that he had promised to let Giles tell Oz what had transpired the previous evening. Damn. “Funny story, that…”
“It seems,” Giles stated, interrupting Spike and stepping into the conversation while dunking his teabag into the hot water, “that Spike here is a bit more than meets the eye.”
Spike sighed audibly as he relaxed. The bloke had good timing. He honestly didn’t know what he would have told the werewolf.
“Really?” Oz asked, eyes still locked on Spike. “How’s that?”
“Well I’m not sure of anything, yet, but I believe Spike is the equivalent of a Slayer.”
Oz raised his eyebrows in response.
“Yeah, whatever,” Spike stated, rolling his eyes. “I don’t believe it for a minute, but Rupert here seems to be convinced. Guess that’s why he’s a Watcher and I’m just a bookstore employee.”
“Quite. Of course, Oz, I don’t need to remind you that this conversation stays between us. The last thing that Spike, or I, need right now is for the Council to be banging down my door and whisking him away to be ‘examined’.”
“Understood,” Oz replied, nodding his head as well. The thought of anyone being taken by the Council for questioning or examination made him uneasy. Some of the people, well other wolves, that he had hung with when he had first gotten to town had been taken by the Council – and had never returned.
“Good,” Giles responded, knowing that Oz would be true to his word. “We’ll talk more about this later, after the two of you have finished stocking the shelves. For the time being, I’ll be in my office. I’m expecting a visitor so please bring him back when he arrives.”
Oz nodded.
“Sure thing, Watcher,” Spike replied, turning back to his box of books. That had gone rather well if he did say so himself. A little smoother than he had expected though. After shelving a few more books, he paused and turned towards Oz. “Thanks,” he said sincerely. “I appreciate you keeping this quiet.”
“Not a problem,” Oz responded. “There’s more boxes in the back. I’ll go get them. Just keep doing what you’re doing while I’m gone.”
******
Five minutes passed, and then ten, and the young werewolf still hadn’t returned from the back. “Boxes my ass,” Spike growled under his breath. “He’s back there with Giles, gettin' the low down on me. Bloody well figures. Couldn’t ask me himself, could he?” Just then the bell rang over the door, announcing that a customer had arrived. He sighed and cursed silently to himself while looking up at the ceiling in a ‘why me, God’ sort of way. He could just tell that the damned bell would set him off sooner or later – that and having to deal with customers day in and day out. What had he gotten himself into?
He poked his head around the corner to see who had entered. It was a man, in his mid to late twenties, dark hair and dark eyes and dressed impeccably. He watched as the customer wandered over to the counter, looking somewhat bored. Before he could hide back around the shelving, the man spotted him.
“You there, perhaps you could help me.”
“Uh,” Spike started, not sure what he could possibly do to help him. Damn. If Oz had just returned when he said he would or if he had just been a little faster or ignored the bell all together, he wouldn’t have to worry about this. Oh well, too late now. He put on his best smile and walked over to the man. “I can try to help you. Is there something in particular that you’re looking for?”
“You’re new here.”
“Yeah, just started today as a matter of fact.” He didn’t like the tone the man was taking with him so he took a step back and glared, his defenses kicking in.
“Yes, I thought maybe you had,” the man sniffed. “I don’t recognize you.”
Brilliant. Just what he needed – a recurring customer that acted like they owned the place.
“I’m here to see my cousin. Would you be so kind as to let him know I’ve arrived.”
“Your cousin?” Spike asked, quirking an eyebrow. This guy had to be here for Giles since he was just too stuffy to be related to Oz. “Let me guess. Tall British guy, glasses, sort of bookish?”
The man frowned at him in response. “Is that any way to regard your employer?”
Spike snorted. Time for a little fun. He may not be evil anymore but he still had his snark by damn. “Hey Giles!” He bellowed at the top of his lungs. “There’s a ponce out here who says he’s your cousin.”
After cringing in response to Spike’s shouting, the man glowered at him. Spike just smiled in return, suddenly making the man very uneasy. There was something about him…
“Ah, Garrick!” Giles stated as he exited his office, Oz in tow.
“Rupert, good to see you again. Hello Daniel.”
“Heya Gar. How’s it goin’?” Oz asked as he came up next to Spike. Garrick smiled in response.
Spike watched the exchange with feigned interest. As he turned to make his way back to his box of books, Giles grabbed his arm.
“I see you’ve met William then,” Giles said, putting an arm around Spike’s shoulders to keep him from going anywhere.
“Yes, but not formally. Fortunately. I’d say his blatant disregard for your authority makes me not want to meet him at all.”
What a git! Spike narrowed his eyes and took a step towards Garrick. He hadn’t noticed that the man had taken a step back, concern flashing in his eyes, until Giles put a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him from ripping Garrick to shreds. He softened a bit and let the anger recede. “First, sod off, mate! Second, you don’t even know me…”
“And I’d rather not,” Garrick replied, his cool façade returning as he cut off Spike’s retort. He then directed his next statement towards Giles, as if Spike no longer existed. “If this is the kind of help you’re employing these days, cousin, I suggest you start looking elsewhere.”
Giles smiled. This was not going well. He should have known that his cousin and Spike would not get along. Spike usually rubbed people the wrong way on first meeting. “Why don’t you follow me back to the office, Garrick, and we’ll discuss what news you have about that ‘project’.”
“Excellent idea, Rupert.” He paused and then turned to Oz. “Good to see you again, Daniel. Do take care.”
Giles led Garrick back to the small office that he occupied when not busy ringing up customers or helping Oz with the inventory. “Please, sit down.”
“I really believe you need to fire that insubordinate, vile…”
“I’ll not be firing William, in fact I have something I wish to run by you, but not until after you tell me what your latest investigations have uncovered.” He paused, looking down at his cousin. “Tell me, what is the Council up to now?”
Go to chapter ten...
