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Dreams and Desotos

Chapter 8

Giles simply studied her for a long, silent moment. His eyes reflected disappointment and disillusionment as he regarded her, and he wondered once more what had gotten into his Slayer. How could he have guided her in such misdirection?



His instincts were telling him that to sleep under the same roof with this notorious vampire would most likely be the last mistake he would ever be alive to make, and he was quite confident that his instincts were correct.



However, when Giles sent a probing look in Joyce's direction, her opinion on the matter was etched firmly on her face. There was little doubt that the woman found nothing wrong with sharing lodgings with a demon who was responsible for the murder of thousands. Discovering that Joyce had been lulled into a sense of false security in the same fashion as the townspeople had, did not come as much surprise to him.



Giles sighed heavily. He had almost succumbed to the same fanciful disillusionment as well. He couldn't quite fault Joyce for being so easily misled. This was her daughter, after all. Between Spike's impressive acting job, the entire town's apparent tolerance of his true nature, and having a respected medical professional giving the vampire validation... well, one would be hard pressed to remain a cynic after that. Giles had found himself wavering, almost allowing himself a small bit of consideration to be given. A slight willingness to offer Spike the... benefit of doubt. A minute leaning in the direction that perhaps his slayer hadn't completely given herself to a... monster, but someone who was deserving.



But fortunately he had come to his senses in time.



Giles was also aware they needed a certain level of cooperation and information from Buffy, so he came to the conclusion it was best to buck up and at least make an effort to make amends. Even if that meant he was sacrificing his life. It was a Watcher code of duty, after all.



Allowing his lips to curl up in a grim mockery of a smile, Giles managed to respond politely, "If it's not too much trouble, your hospitality would be greatly appreciated."



A loud, rude snort was heard from the kitchen, which Giles chose to ignore. It didn't escape his notice, however, Buffy's answering grin and giggle. Apparently, the deplorable manners were rubbing off on her, which came as no surprise to Giles.



"I'll just go, and get those rooms ready for you," Buffy announced, wanting to escape her Watcher's disapproving eyes. She headed for the stairs, with Joyce following behind to lend assistance and be further reunited with her daughter. There were two extra rooms on the second level, both set up to accommodate guests. Aside from the few times when Rick and Elaine had opted to stay over rather than risk driving home under the influence after a few of their more alcoholic get-togethers, they had been pretty much unused.



After the two Summers women had disappeared up the stairs, Giles helped himself to a brandy from the picturesque antique sidebar. He took a greedy sip, sighing in appreciation as the familiar burn of the alcohol went to work in his system. The past year had been hell, no doubt of that. Alcohol had been a habitual companion during the long evenings, and Giles saw no point in stopping now.



Distracted, he turned around with every intentions of waiting on the couch for Buffy's reemergence. He was tired, and wished nothing more than to go to sleep, but the need to gather the information he required was pressing. The Council had been sniffing around and Giles knew it was only a matter of time before they garnered onto the truth.



Deep in his own commiserations of his unduly hard charge in life, he failed to notice the vampire who had stealthily appeared behind him, catching him by surprise as Giles turned around. An instinctive startled jerk of his limbs caused precious brandy to slosh from the rim of the glass held tightly in his hand, and Giles held nothing back while delivering a withering glare to the person responsible of such waste. When he caught sight of the cruel, dangerous look creeping onto Spike's face, his glare turned wary.



"Well, well. Guess it's just you and me, eh, Watcher?" The voice alone sent tendrils of fear through Giles. The promise of evil and pain could be heard in the low, mocking tones.



Giles took a step back, desperate to put some distance between himself and the homicidal look on Spike's face. His immediate escape was halted by the side bar he had just been admiring, causing a flash of fear to strike him.



"Spike, I really don't think Buffy would be happy if any harm came to me." Giles tried to sound authoritative, but knew his voice carried a hint of fear.



The cruel grin turned mocking and sinister. "Well, see... that's where I disagree, mate." Spike heard the telltale pounding of the watcher's heart, and the familiar delicious smell of fright curled enticingly through the air. Wanting to add to the man's panic, he allowed his facial bones to shift and brought his demon forward.



Giles looked into the savage, mocking yellow eyes of this vampire, and saw his life flash before his eyes. The fact that his suspicions were proven correct in such an ironically fatal manner did not pass him by. He opened his mouth to call for Buffy, hoping that she would be able to do the right thing in this situation. That she would choose her life's destiny over her hormones for once, when a set of unyielding fingers were suddenly wrapped around his throat, making speech an impossibility.



Spike kept an unwavering stare on the man in his grasp, fighting the urge to bury his teeth into the aging flesh, tearing him apart until the blood stopped flowing, and the sanctimonious words would never again be spilled from those pompous lips. Hate didn't even begin to cover what he felt for this man.



But... he wouldn't. For Buffy's sake. Hell, who was he kidding. For his sake too. He had too much at stake here.



Didn't mean he didn't want to.



Easing his grip just a fraction, Spike leaned in close. The Watcher had him in height, but now he just seemed a shriveled shell of his pretentious self; eyes resolute with fear, and oddly, acceptance.



"Listen up, you git. Only going to say this once. If it was up to me, I'd have killed you the moment you walked through my door." Spike saw the slight spark of anger flare up in the other man's eyes. "Yeah, that's right. My door. This is my home. Mine and Buffy's. The only reason your heart is still beating is because of your slayer, and I'm not about to let you hurt my girl." When he saw disgust and rage light up in Giles eyes, a low warning growl sounded in Spike's throat.



"Yeah, she's mine, Watcher. And as I said, I'm not about to let anything, or anyone get in the way of her happiness, understand?"



A lack of response prompted another growl, and Spike's hand instinctively tightened around the man's throat. The rapid mottling of his face and bulging eyeballs clued Spike in that perhaps he was taking things too far, and he threw Giles away from him in disgust.



Spike watched impassively as Giles drew greedy painful breaths into oxygen starved lungs, his coloring returning to normal before he turned and resumed his usual uptight posture.



"You don't deserve her," he bit out in a clipped, slightly hoarse voice. The words the vampire had just spoken to him had infuriated him, and the worst part was the fact he had been completely at Spike's mercy. "You are a monster." The words slid out before Giles could contain them, knowing that he was choosing a very unwise time to share them.



Spike roared and swooped towards Giles, golden eyes blazing with hatred and anger, and the watcher tensed, preparing himself for the inevitable attack, searching quickly for some sort of weapon. He had been quite foolish indeed, his stake wasted in the coat hanging at the front door.



But the attack never commenced. Spike stopped a hairsbreadth away and rose his hand as if to strike. Giles flinched in preparation, his arm coming up in a defensives gesture.



Instead of inflicting bodily harm, however, Spike's hand held one of the procured chocolate chip cookies and the vampire took the opportunity to take a large, exaggerated bite, letting Giles know without words just how much he'd prefer it be something a little more Watcher-shaped he was biting.



Then, with one more parting glare, the vampire turned on his heel and strode purposefully towards the front door, pausing briefly to grab a weapon of sorts just off to the side, before stalking through it without a backwards glance.



Giles stood frozen in place. To have averted death by that narrow of a margin was... unnerving, at best. Snapping himself out of it, he half-stumbled back to the bar to top his glass off, before finally making his way to the couch.



Buffy and Joyce found him there ten minutes later; perched on the edge of the cushion, both hands wrapped firmly around the body of the glass tumbler, his face set in a mask of late dawning horror.



Buffy looked around with growing dread. "Where's Spike?"



There was no answer from her previous mentor. Buffy watched as he merely tipped his glass to his lips and downed its contents in one long, smooth gulp. "Giles."



When that also went ignored, Buffy put her hands on her hips and said sharply, "Giles, where is Spike?"



Giles finally looked in her direction, his eyes blinking slowly as if to bring her into focus. "Er, he went... outside."



"What did you do?" Buffy accused, her eyes flashing.



Giles opened his mouth to make a vehement denial, but the words refused to come. Instead he just shook his head dumbly. The near-death experience had shaken him, as loath as he was to admit it.



"Giles, what did you do?"



The accusatory tone served to get his attention and he stood up primly, adopting a look of pure outrage on his face. He didn't seem to realize he was swaying slightly on his feet.



"I did nothing, Buffy. We exchanged some words. He almost killed me. He ate a cookie and then he went outside." Giles gestured wildly towards the front door. "He took a weapon, however."


Buffy gave her watcher a withering look that matched the one that Spike had given him earlier and promptly ignored him. Marching to the front door, she wrenched it open.



"Spike! Get in here!"



Joyce gave Giles a questioning look, even though she felt like slapping the befuddled look off his face, as well. On top of everything else, now he was drunk. There was a muffled shout that slipped in through the partially opened door, but Joyce couldn't quite decipher the words.



"No, now. Get in here now!" Buffy yelled, hands on her hips.



More muffled shouts followed, and they watched as Buffy rolled her eyes, and shouted back, "Ok, FINE. Finish, then get your undead ass in here. I mean it!"



She shut the front door and walked back into the living room, rubbing her chilled arms along the way.



"What's he doing?" Joyce asked, noting the look of exasperation on her daughter's face.



Before Buffy could answer, Giles interrupted. "Perhaps one of us should go make sure he's not,... er... endangering anyone? Spike was rather angry when he walked out that door. He could be doing anything right now."



Giles felt the heat of Buffy's glare before she turned back to her mother.



"He's shoveling," she informed Joyce, making a decision to ignore the man who had previously held an esteemed position in her life.



"Buffy, I will take care of this matter. You did not see Spike's state of mind. I would once again be remiss if I did not at least protect this town against any fatalities merely because he and I had... words," Giles explained in a slurred, self-righteous tone.



Buffy's indelicate snort was followed by a robust eye roll. "I told you he was shoveling, Giles. What..., did you think he was burying dead bodies or something?"



Actually that particular thought had not crossed his mind, and now sinister scenes began playing out in his head. Bodies stacked up, mass graves, and Spike shoveling away with a demonic smile on his face...



Apparently, his face must have mirrored some of his thoughts, because Buffy's voice interrupted his musings.



"The ground is frozen solid, Giles. Bit tough to be burying bodies in the front yard of a residential neighborhood, you know."



Her sarcasm was not lost on him, and his eyes hardened in response. "Buffy, really. I have no idea what delusions you have let yourself live under this past year, but I feel it is time for you to stop. You are not some merely some impressionable, teen runaway, you are living with a murderer. The truth is, you have no>/i> idea what a vampire is capable of. Especially this one."



Buffy heard the gasp of outrage from her mother, and brought herself up to her most assured pose to coolly regard the man who had been her mentor. "You're right, Giles. I don't know exactly what this vampire is capable of," she bit out. "Only because he continually surprises me."



Taking a step forward, Buffy roughly grabbed Giles arm and bodily dragged his resisting body in the direction of the front door, ignoring his sputtering. He winced in pain as the door struck his shoulder as it was flung open, and Giles didn't even want to ponder if it had been intentional or not.



"You want to know what evilness I am letting him get up to while he is outside-un-chaperoned-with a shovel?" Buffy demanded, shoving him onto the porch. "Well, there he is."



With a small squint of his eyes, Giles was just able to make out the a flash of white blonde hair shining against the back drop of snow across the street, gradually discerning the black bowling outfit from the nighttime shadows. He could see the glint of the shovel as it moved through the air at a furious pace. Spike was definitely taking his aggressions out on something, there was no doubt of that.



"He's..." Giles couldn't even finish the statement.



"That's right. He's shoveling the neighbor's driveway, doesn't want her to have to do it herself. She's 79 years old, lives alone and makes Spike come over for dinner once a week when I'm at work." Buffy turned around and headed back inside, Giles following dumbly behind. She closed the door to the cool air trying to seep into the cozy house and exchanged looks with her mom.



Buffy walked back into the living room, her hands clenched with fury, wanting so very badly to pummel Giles She had always known he was narrow-minded, but this was ridiculous. And irritating.



And he was really pissing her off.



Giles followed a few steps behind her, walking with an almost shaken look on his face. Spike kept the elderly neighbor's driveway shoveled. It was inconceivable to think that the vampire would do such a thing. Buffy must make him do it, he concluded, and turned his satisfied eyes to her.



"And no, I do not make him do it. He just started doing it all on his own. Said it was the neighborly thing to do," Buffy injected, ruining the foregone conclusion Giles had come up with.



The front door swung open and Spike stomped in, his face still set in a furious mask. Buffy hurried over to him, yelping when he laid extra chilled fingers on her flesh. "Gloves, Spike! You need to wear gloves!!!! I don't care if you are dead, you idiot! Your hands are icicles."



Both Joyce and Giles watched as his face softened, and the coiled tenseness seemed to leave him, just by being in Buffy's presence. Their feelings were once again in clear evidence as Buffy rubbed his half frozen hands, kissing them tenderly before smiling up at him.



It made Joyce want to go smack Rupert around herself. How he could remain so damn dense when it was clear that there were very real emotions being felt here, Joyce didn't know. One thing she did know for certain; she knew where her loyalties lay.





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