Journey to Destiny - Chapter 3
Dec. 6th, 2003 07:54 pm![[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: Spike finds that familiar faces aren’t always friendly, no matter how much a person has changed...
Timeframe: Immediately following "Seeking Shelter"
Spike quickly turned to look at the person who had just addressed him by name. His eyes widened as recognition set in. The only coherent thought that his mind could process was that he had stepped through a rift in time. There was no other explanation. There couldn’t be. His first instinct was to bolt out the door and run as hard and as fast as his newly human legs would take him, but he couldn’t. Prepping for his face to face with Giles was one thing, running into others was just entirely too overwhelming. He just wasn’t ready to cope with more than one person from his past, but apparently fate had other ideas.
"Man, you okay?"
"Uh..." Spike began uncertainly, still trying to steady himself. "I’m not really sure. Think I might be seeing things." He tilted his head to the left and squinted his eyes, trying to make sure that it wasn’t an illusion, which it could have been, easily; after all, he had hit his head and gone through quite a bit of trauma the last few weeks. Thinking of no other way to bring his mind out of this apparent daydream, he pinched himself. "Ouch! Bloody hell!"
"What did you do that for?"
"Just making sure you’re real, mate, and not a figment of my warped imagination."
"I’m real, but I’m starting to think you’re a little insane. Maybe more than a little actually."
"You could be right," Spike replied with a small smile, which quickly turned to a frown. Taking a deep breath he plunged on with the question that he needed to pose; the question to make sure that this was real. "Oz?" He asked incredulously, "Is that you?"
"Yeah. That would be me. You sure you’re all right? Not that I care. Thought I’d ask anyway."
Spike noted that it was typical Oz speak, very little inflection, bordering on monotone. "I-I’m fine. Just a little surprised to see you here is all."
"Same here," Oz replied, his voice and expression unchanging.
"Does Red know you’re here?" It was the only thing he could think of to say next. He and the werewolf had had very little interaction in the past and it was a bit difficult in his current state of mind to try to make small talk.
"That would be a definite no," the young man stated with a glare.
"Don’t worry, mate. You’re secret’s safe with me. Not that I’d go blabbing that you’re here or anything, ‘cause I wouldn’t. It would just hurt her more, I think. Plus there’s the whole thing with me never going back to Sunnydale and...." He paused as he noticed the expression on Oz’s face. "Right. I should shut my gob."
Oz quirked his eyebrow and frowned at Spike. Something was off about the vampire. "Interesting book you’re holding."
Sheepishly Spike looked down at the tome in his hands. Vampire Myths and Legends.
"Looking to see if you’re in there?"
"No. I, uhm..." Spike started but stopped as Oz began to circle him, sniffing the air. "No need to be rude. Just got in from a long flight," he stated uneasily. "Can’t smell that bad..."
Before Oz could reply, an arrow hit the wall directly behind Spike, missing him by millimeters.
Oz turned to the assailant and gave him a half smile. "You missed."
"If I had intended to hit Spike, believe me, I would not have missed," the man said dryly.
"Trying to get my attention then, Watcher?" Spike asked, plucking the arrow out of the plaster with ease and tossing it to Giles. "You might need that later."
Giles caught the arrow and reloaded the crossbow. "Spike," he said simply, acknowledging his existence.
"Watcher," Spike stated just as evenly. "This your place?" It was all he could do to keep from throwing himself at the man and begging for his help but that would come later, when Oz wasn’t around. Appearances had to be maintained, for now.
"It is."
"Should have known. A bit homesick for the Hellmouth, are you?" Spike asked looking around the shop and then raising an eyebrow when his gaze returned to Giles.
"It’s not quite home but it’s somewhat comfortable," Giles responded with a sigh. After he realized that he was about to have a cordial conversation with Spike, he quickly changed back to his usual business manner, remembering that he was brassed off at the vampire. "Where have you been, Spike? We could have used your assistance in Sunnydale fighting Warren."
Spike’s eyes widened and his face flushed with worry. "What do you mean you could have used my assistance? What happened? Is Buffy okay?" In his anxiety he had closed the distance between himself and the Watcher.
"Do calm down, Spike," Giles replied, still glaring at him. "Buffy is quite alright, no thanks to you."
"What-what do you mean?" Spike demanded, his insides going cold as all of the color drained from his face. Had she told Giles what had happened in the bathroom? He waited, his body steeling itself for the explosion and the fist to his jaw that he was sure was to come next.
"I left the States knowing that you would be there to help her if the need arose, but instead you take off for parts unknown, at such a crucial time. I have to say that I am extremely disappointed in you." Giles paused, placed the crossbow on the table and then crossed his arms over his chest. "That statement seems rather redundant now that I think about it."
Spike’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed. He should have expected this type of reaction from Giles, but the fact that Buffy was safe and unharmed made up for the cool reception. "I’m sorry," he whispered, bowing his head and fighting back the tears. He felt like such a ponce what with constantly being on the verge of tears.
"You...? A master vampire..? Sorry..!? You expect me to believe that after all the rot you've fed us in Sunnydale over the years?" Giles stated as he cleaned his glasses on his shirttail. Noticing the slump in Spike’s shoulders, he softened his tone a little. "The irresponsibility you have displayed is so typical of you. Don’t you understand how grave the situation could have been if I hadn’t shown up..."
"Uhm, Giles," Oz said, trying to interrupt the man’s rant. Up until this point he had held his tongue but it was now obvious that Giles was missing what was right in front of his face.
"...With the powers that I had been given by the Coven. Things could have been much..."
Oz cleared his throat and tried again. "Giles..."
"Oz, please..! Can’t you see that I’m trying to reprimand Spike for his selfishness?"
"Uh, yeah. I get that, but," he said, pausing to briefly glance at Spike and then back at Giles. "Don’t you think there’s something different about him?"
Spike’s head shot up as he stared wide-eyed at Oz. Had the wolf figured it out? Of course! His scent. He now smelled human.
"Different how?" Giles asked, putting his glasses back on and giving Spike the once over.
Holding Spike’s gaze, Oz gave him a little smile and continued. "Just, different."
"I see nothing different about the vampire before me," Giles stated, somewhat exasperated with the young werewolf. "Other than the fact that his normal grooming habits have lapsed and his roots are showing."
"Watcher’s right," Spike growled as he began to fidget. This wasn’t how he had rehearsed things. "I haven’t changed a bit." It was a lie, bold faced and blatant and he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth but he couldn’t help it. He closed his eyes as fear began to sweep through him; fear that his newfound humanity wasn’t going to matter to Giles and that the man would just turn him out, make him face the world alone.
Oz leaned against the table, crossed his arms over his chest, then crossed his feet. "Giles, you’re totally missing it."
Giles sighed. "If you have something to share, Oz, then please do so immediately, I’m in no mood for games."
"What time is it?" Oz asked Giles with a wry smile, knowing that the question would further annoy the older man but he just couldn’t help himself.
"What does the time have to do with Spike?"
"Nothing, nothing at all," Spike replied quickly as he shelved the book and headed towards the front of the shop. He needed to leave. Now. This had been a complete mistake.
"Spike, just where are you going?" Giles demanded, his eyes following Spike’s progress.
"Dunno, just not staying here. A bloke knows when he’s not welcome..."
Oz rolled his eyes and grabbed the Watcher’s arm, pulling him after Spike. "You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a Watcher, you’re pretty unobservant sometimes."
"I beg your pardon..."
"Spike, stop." Oz insisted.
Spike froze, his body tensing, knowing that the werewolf was going to reveal his secret. "What?" He questioned wearily, not turning around and already knowing the answer.
"Giles, shouldn’t vampires have an allergic reaction to sunlight?"
"Well, yes," Giles answered with a frown, still unsure of where the young man was going with his questions. "We all know what happens to vampires when they are exposed to direct sunlight."
"That’s what I thought," Oz said with a raised eyebrow, waiting to see if Giles put two and two together. Realizing that he was going to have to spell it out, he walked over to the side windows and flipped up the shades, bathing Spike in afternoon sunshine.
Spike raised his hand to shield his eyes from the light. The store had been somewhat darkened with the shades drawn so his eyes hadn’t been ready for the sudden brightness streaming in through the windows.
Oz looked over to where Giles was standing, stock still, face unreadable. "So?"
"So, indeed," Giles stated hoarsely, eyes boring into Spike’s as he slowly walked towards him.
Giles stopped just short of Spike’s location, his mouth agape. "Spike, what-what have you done?"
The shrill sound of the telephone interrupted before Spike could reply. "You want me to get that?" Oz asked, gesturing towards the counter with his thumb.
"No, that’s quite alright," Giles answered, trying to regain his composure as he hurried towards the counter. "Though I may be somewhat stunned, I am still quite capable of answering the telephone. Do stay put, Spike, while I take this call."
"Right," Spike replied, suddenly feeling a sense of relief that his secret was now out in the open, sort of. There was still the little issue of explaining how it had all come about though. That discussion certainly wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, that’s for sure. How did one explain that they sought redemption after almost doing the unspeakable to the only woman they ever truly loved?
Oz continued to stand quietly by the window, studying the expressions that crossed Spike’s face. He recognized inner turmoil when he saw it and the former Big Bad certainly had plenty of it going on. Amazing. Had they both learned to control the demons within them? He was about to ask Spike that very question when Giles’ side of the conversation reached them.
"Yes, Bronwyn. No, that’s quite all right. Daniel and I were in the back doing research. Yes, I will tell him you said hello. Is there a problem? You did? There’s no message on the machine. Oh right. It’s not turned on. Sorry. A man stopped by the flat?" Giles asked as he turned to look at Spike with a frown. "What did he look like? Blond, incredible blue eyes and extremely handsome? Yes," he sighed somewhat annoyed by the young woman’s words, "I do know someone that fits that description. He’s here with me now. His name? Well...Yes, Bronwyn, I do know his name. It’s William. No, he is not available..."
Spike snorted, partly in amusement. That was twice today that a woman had inquired about his availability. In the past he would have reveled in the attention, even been cocky about it, but now he was just too wrapped up in what had happened to him in Africa to give it a second thought.
Oz took notice of Spike’s lack of enthusiasm. Where was the bragger that he had known before he left Sunnydale? This person looked like Spike but so far he had seen nothing to indicate that it was Spike. "So, Spike..."
"So," Spike drawled out, wondering if maybe Oz felt compelled to make small talk now that the Watcher was otherwise occupied.
"Human, huh?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"How’d that happen? I mean, it’s not like you woke up one morning and said, ‘make me human today’."
"Well, funny that, that’s sort of how it happened..."
"Yes, Spike, please do enlighten us as to how this has come about," Giles interrupted as he rejoined the two men. Before he continued, he leaned up against a bookcase for support and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do explain how a vampire suddenly becomes a human."
"Well," Spike started hesitantly, looking at Oz and silently pleading with him to comprehend the fact that he really needed to talk this out with Giles...alone.
After a few moments of silence, Oz shook his head and left his perch by the windows. "Uh, Giles? I think I’m gonna head to the club. Unless you need me to help close up." On one hand, he really wanted to know what happened to Spike but on the other hand he figured Giles would tell him afterwards so either way, he’d know. May as well leave and get ready for the gig tonight.
Giles stared at Spike while he answered Oz. "Normally I would require Spike to reply with you present, but I can somewhat understand his tentativeness to speak. We’ll close the shop and then you can head to the club while Spike and I head to my flat."
Spike nodded his appreciation to the Watcher. He wanted to tell Giles everything, including his most heinous act, but he wouldn’t dare do that in front of an audience. He couldn’t. "Right. I’ll just go to the Watcher’s place." And to his death, he thought silently. Maybe having the wolf stay around wasn’t such a bad idea after all. No. He had to do this one on one. Giles deserved to know.
"Sounds good," Oz stated as he grabbed his jacket before he could be shooed out of the shop by a scowling, and rather confused looking, Watcher and a now human vampire. He had believed that weird stuff only really happened on the Hellmouth, but now he had been proven wrong. Sure, England had its share of the mystical but not quite like Sunnydale. As he slipped on his jacket, he turned to Spike with a worried expression. "You won’t say anything..."
"I won’t say a bleeding word. I promise," Spike assured Oz in a serious tone. "She won’t hear it from me."
Oz nodded. "Thanks."
"I uh, I would appreciate if you didn’t let anyone know I was here either. Not that you would but..."
"I get it. Sure," Oz answered on his way to the door. He paused for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob. "If you’re interested, the guys and I are playing at the club tonight. If Giles doesn’t chain you to the wall, you’re welcome to come check us out."
"Thanks but I think I’m going to have to take a rain check on that. Watcher and I have a lot to talk about."
"Not a problem. Offer still stands if you get a chance. You just may need that rain check," he added with a frown as he looked up into the sky. "Looks like there’s a storm coming." With that he walked out the door and into the alley.
"You have no idea, mate," Spike whispered to himself as he ran his hand through his hair, bracing himself for the thousand questions he was sure were to come.
As soon as Oz was out of the building, Giles hurried to the door and turned over the sign to say ‘closed’. Removing his jacket from the coat-stand and grabbing his umbrella, just in case, he held open the door and looked at Spike. "Come along, Spike. I have an important meeting tonight at the Council that I don’t wish to miss. You can tell me everything while we drive back to the flat."
"Drive? You’re going to drive in this traffic? Are you daft? The Underground not good enough for you?"
"Spike, for as much as I would like to slug you for that comment, I will refrain. Now, get your bag and follow me," he stated gruffly. After a slight pause he then added awkwardly, "I’m not driving; I’m hailing a taxi."
Without another word, Spike grabbed his things and headed out the door. Best that he didn’t press his luck now. He’d come too far for that. As he exited the alley – followed closely by a very perplexed, and somewhat annoyed Giles – he took note that a storm was indeed brewing, in more ways than one.
Go to chapter four...
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: Spike finds that familiar faces aren’t always friendly, no matter how much a person has changed...
Timeframe: Immediately following "Seeking Shelter"
- 3 -
Impending Storm
Impending Storm
Spike quickly turned to look at the person who had just addressed him by name. His eyes widened as recognition set in. The only coherent thought that his mind could process was that he had stepped through a rift in time. There was no other explanation. There couldn’t be. His first instinct was to bolt out the door and run as hard and as fast as his newly human legs would take him, but he couldn’t. Prepping for his face to face with Giles was one thing, running into others was just entirely too overwhelming. He just wasn’t ready to cope with more than one person from his past, but apparently fate had other ideas.
"Man, you okay?"
"Uh..." Spike began uncertainly, still trying to steady himself. "I’m not really sure. Think I might be seeing things." He tilted his head to the left and squinted his eyes, trying to make sure that it wasn’t an illusion, which it could have been, easily; after all, he had hit his head and gone through quite a bit of trauma the last few weeks. Thinking of no other way to bring his mind out of this apparent daydream, he pinched himself. "Ouch! Bloody hell!"
"What did you do that for?"
"Just making sure you’re real, mate, and not a figment of my warped imagination."
"I’m real, but I’m starting to think you’re a little insane. Maybe more than a little actually."
"You could be right," Spike replied with a small smile, which quickly turned to a frown. Taking a deep breath he plunged on with the question that he needed to pose; the question to make sure that this was real. "Oz?" He asked incredulously, "Is that you?"
"Yeah. That would be me. You sure you’re all right? Not that I care. Thought I’d ask anyway."
Spike noted that it was typical Oz speak, very little inflection, bordering on monotone. "I-I’m fine. Just a little surprised to see you here is all."
"Same here," Oz replied, his voice and expression unchanging.
"Does Red know you’re here?" It was the only thing he could think of to say next. He and the werewolf had had very little interaction in the past and it was a bit difficult in his current state of mind to try to make small talk.
"That would be a definite no," the young man stated with a glare.
"Don’t worry, mate. You’re secret’s safe with me. Not that I’d go blabbing that you’re here or anything, ‘cause I wouldn’t. It would just hurt her more, I think. Plus there’s the whole thing with me never going back to Sunnydale and...." He paused as he noticed the expression on Oz’s face. "Right. I should shut my gob."
Oz quirked his eyebrow and frowned at Spike. Something was off about the vampire. "Interesting book you’re holding."
Sheepishly Spike looked down at the tome in his hands. Vampire Myths and Legends.
"Looking to see if you’re in there?"
"No. I, uhm..." Spike started but stopped as Oz began to circle him, sniffing the air. "No need to be rude. Just got in from a long flight," he stated uneasily. "Can’t smell that bad..."
Before Oz could reply, an arrow hit the wall directly behind Spike, missing him by millimeters.
******
Oz turned to the assailant and gave him a half smile. "You missed."
"If I had intended to hit Spike, believe me, I would not have missed," the man said dryly.
"Trying to get my attention then, Watcher?" Spike asked, plucking the arrow out of the plaster with ease and tossing it to Giles. "You might need that later."
Giles caught the arrow and reloaded the crossbow. "Spike," he said simply, acknowledging his existence.
"Watcher," Spike stated just as evenly. "This your place?" It was all he could do to keep from throwing himself at the man and begging for his help but that would come later, when Oz wasn’t around. Appearances had to be maintained, for now.
"It is."
"Should have known. A bit homesick for the Hellmouth, are you?" Spike asked looking around the shop and then raising an eyebrow when his gaze returned to Giles.
"It’s not quite home but it’s somewhat comfortable," Giles responded with a sigh. After he realized that he was about to have a cordial conversation with Spike, he quickly changed back to his usual business manner, remembering that he was brassed off at the vampire. "Where have you been, Spike? We could have used your assistance in Sunnydale fighting Warren."
Spike’s eyes widened and his face flushed with worry. "What do you mean you could have used my assistance? What happened? Is Buffy okay?" In his anxiety he had closed the distance between himself and the Watcher.
"Do calm down, Spike," Giles replied, still glaring at him. "Buffy is quite alright, no thanks to you."
"What-what do you mean?" Spike demanded, his insides going cold as all of the color drained from his face. Had she told Giles what had happened in the bathroom? He waited, his body steeling itself for the explosion and the fist to his jaw that he was sure was to come next.
"I left the States knowing that you would be there to help her if the need arose, but instead you take off for parts unknown, at such a crucial time. I have to say that I am extremely disappointed in you." Giles paused, placed the crossbow on the table and then crossed his arms over his chest. "That statement seems rather redundant now that I think about it."
Spike’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed. He should have expected this type of reaction from Giles, but the fact that Buffy was safe and unharmed made up for the cool reception. "I’m sorry," he whispered, bowing his head and fighting back the tears. He felt like such a ponce what with constantly being on the verge of tears.
"You...? A master vampire..? Sorry..!? You expect me to believe that after all the rot you've fed us in Sunnydale over the years?" Giles stated as he cleaned his glasses on his shirttail. Noticing the slump in Spike’s shoulders, he softened his tone a little. "The irresponsibility you have displayed is so typical of you. Don’t you understand how grave the situation could have been if I hadn’t shown up..."
"Uhm, Giles," Oz said, trying to interrupt the man’s rant. Up until this point he had held his tongue but it was now obvious that Giles was missing what was right in front of his face.
"...With the powers that I had been given by the Coven. Things could have been much..."
Oz cleared his throat and tried again. "Giles..."
"Oz, please..! Can’t you see that I’m trying to reprimand Spike for his selfishness?"
"Uh, yeah. I get that, but," he said, pausing to briefly glance at Spike and then back at Giles. "Don’t you think there’s something different about him?"
Spike’s head shot up as he stared wide-eyed at Oz. Had the wolf figured it out? Of course! His scent. He now smelled human.
"Different how?" Giles asked, putting his glasses back on and giving Spike the once over.
Holding Spike’s gaze, Oz gave him a little smile and continued. "Just, different."
"I see nothing different about the vampire before me," Giles stated, somewhat exasperated with the young werewolf. "Other than the fact that his normal grooming habits have lapsed and his roots are showing."
"Watcher’s right," Spike growled as he began to fidget. This wasn’t how he had rehearsed things. "I haven’t changed a bit." It was a lie, bold faced and blatant and he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth but he couldn’t help it. He closed his eyes as fear began to sweep through him; fear that his newfound humanity wasn’t going to matter to Giles and that the man would just turn him out, make him face the world alone.
Oz leaned against the table, crossed his arms over his chest, then crossed his feet. "Giles, you’re totally missing it."
Giles sighed. "If you have something to share, Oz, then please do so immediately, I’m in no mood for games."
"What time is it?" Oz asked Giles with a wry smile, knowing that the question would further annoy the older man but he just couldn’t help himself.
"What does the time have to do with Spike?"
"Nothing, nothing at all," Spike replied quickly as he shelved the book and headed towards the front of the shop. He needed to leave. Now. This had been a complete mistake.
"Spike, just where are you going?" Giles demanded, his eyes following Spike’s progress.
"Dunno, just not staying here. A bloke knows when he’s not welcome..."
Oz rolled his eyes and grabbed the Watcher’s arm, pulling him after Spike. "You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a Watcher, you’re pretty unobservant sometimes."
"I beg your pardon..."
"Spike, stop." Oz insisted.
Spike froze, his body tensing, knowing that the werewolf was going to reveal his secret. "What?" He questioned wearily, not turning around and already knowing the answer.
"Giles, shouldn’t vampires have an allergic reaction to sunlight?"
"Well, yes," Giles answered with a frown, still unsure of where the young man was going with his questions. "We all know what happens to vampires when they are exposed to direct sunlight."
"That’s what I thought," Oz said with a raised eyebrow, waiting to see if Giles put two and two together. Realizing that he was going to have to spell it out, he walked over to the side windows and flipped up the shades, bathing Spike in afternoon sunshine.
Spike raised his hand to shield his eyes from the light. The store had been somewhat darkened with the shades drawn so his eyes hadn’t been ready for the sudden brightness streaming in through the windows.
Oz looked over to where Giles was standing, stock still, face unreadable. "So?"
"So, indeed," Giles stated hoarsely, eyes boring into Spike’s as he slowly walked towards him.
******
Giles stopped just short of Spike’s location, his mouth agape. "Spike, what-what have you done?"
The shrill sound of the telephone interrupted before Spike could reply. "You want me to get that?" Oz asked, gesturing towards the counter with his thumb.
"No, that’s quite alright," Giles answered, trying to regain his composure as he hurried towards the counter. "Though I may be somewhat stunned, I am still quite capable of answering the telephone. Do stay put, Spike, while I take this call."
"Right," Spike replied, suddenly feeling a sense of relief that his secret was now out in the open, sort of. There was still the little issue of explaining how it had all come about though. That discussion certainly wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, that’s for sure. How did one explain that they sought redemption after almost doing the unspeakable to the only woman they ever truly loved?
Oz continued to stand quietly by the window, studying the expressions that crossed Spike’s face. He recognized inner turmoil when he saw it and the former Big Bad certainly had plenty of it going on. Amazing. Had they both learned to control the demons within them? He was about to ask Spike that very question when Giles’ side of the conversation reached them.
"Yes, Bronwyn. No, that’s quite all right. Daniel and I were in the back doing research. Yes, I will tell him you said hello. Is there a problem? You did? There’s no message on the machine. Oh right. It’s not turned on. Sorry. A man stopped by the flat?" Giles asked as he turned to look at Spike with a frown. "What did he look like? Blond, incredible blue eyes and extremely handsome? Yes," he sighed somewhat annoyed by the young woman’s words, "I do know someone that fits that description. He’s here with me now. His name? Well...Yes, Bronwyn, I do know his name. It’s William. No, he is not available..."
Spike snorted, partly in amusement. That was twice today that a woman had inquired about his availability. In the past he would have reveled in the attention, even been cocky about it, but now he was just too wrapped up in what had happened to him in Africa to give it a second thought.
Oz took notice of Spike’s lack of enthusiasm. Where was the bragger that he had known before he left Sunnydale? This person looked like Spike but so far he had seen nothing to indicate that it was Spike. "So, Spike..."
"So," Spike drawled out, wondering if maybe Oz felt compelled to make small talk now that the Watcher was otherwise occupied.
"Human, huh?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"How’d that happen? I mean, it’s not like you woke up one morning and said, ‘make me human today’."
"Well, funny that, that’s sort of how it happened..."
"Yes, Spike, please do enlighten us as to how this has come about," Giles interrupted as he rejoined the two men. Before he continued, he leaned up against a bookcase for support and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do explain how a vampire suddenly becomes a human."
"Well," Spike started hesitantly, looking at Oz and silently pleading with him to comprehend the fact that he really needed to talk this out with Giles...alone.
After a few moments of silence, Oz shook his head and left his perch by the windows. "Uh, Giles? I think I’m gonna head to the club. Unless you need me to help close up." On one hand, he really wanted to know what happened to Spike but on the other hand he figured Giles would tell him afterwards so either way, he’d know. May as well leave and get ready for the gig tonight.
Giles stared at Spike while he answered Oz. "Normally I would require Spike to reply with you present, but I can somewhat understand his tentativeness to speak. We’ll close the shop and then you can head to the club while Spike and I head to my flat."
Spike nodded his appreciation to the Watcher. He wanted to tell Giles everything, including his most heinous act, but he wouldn’t dare do that in front of an audience. He couldn’t. "Right. I’ll just go to the Watcher’s place." And to his death, he thought silently. Maybe having the wolf stay around wasn’t such a bad idea after all. No. He had to do this one on one. Giles deserved to know.
"Sounds good," Oz stated as he grabbed his jacket before he could be shooed out of the shop by a scowling, and rather confused looking, Watcher and a now human vampire. He had believed that weird stuff only really happened on the Hellmouth, but now he had been proven wrong. Sure, England had its share of the mystical but not quite like Sunnydale. As he slipped on his jacket, he turned to Spike with a worried expression. "You won’t say anything..."
"I won’t say a bleeding word. I promise," Spike assured Oz in a serious tone. "She won’t hear it from me."
Oz nodded. "Thanks."
"I uh, I would appreciate if you didn’t let anyone know I was here either. Not that you would but..."
"I get it. Sure," Oz answered on his way to the door. He paused for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob. "If you’re interested, the guys and I are playing at the club tonight. If Giles doesn’t chain you to the wall, you’re welcome to come check us out."
"Thanks but I think I’m going to have to take a rain check on that. Watcher and I have a lot to talk about."
"Not a problem. Offer still stands if you get a chance. You just may need that rain check," he added with a frown as he looked up into the sky. "Looks like there’s a storm coming." With that he walked out the door and into the alley.
"You have no idea, mate," Spike whispered to himself as he ran his hand through his hair, bracing himself for the thousand questions he was sure were to come.
As soon as Oz was out of the building, Giles hurried to the door and turned over the sign to say ‘closed’. Removing his jacket from the coat-stand and grabbing his umbrella, just in case, he held open the door and looked at Spike. "Come along, Spike. I have an important meeting tonight at the Council that I don’t wish to miss. You can tell me everything while we drive back to the flat."
"Drive? You’re going to drive in this traffic? Are you daft? The Underground not good enough for you?"
"Spike, for as much as I would like to slug you for that comment, I will refrain. Now, get your bag and follow me," he stated gruffly. After a slight pause he then added awkwardly, "I’m not driving; I’m hailing a taxi."
Without another word, Spike grabbed his things and headed out the door. Best that he didn’t press his luck now. He’d come too far for that. As he exited the alley – followed closely by a very perplexed, and somewhat annoyed Giles – he took note that a storm was indeed brewing, in more ways than one.
Go to chapter four...
