Come Monday
It was impossible to tell how long they simply stared at one another. Spike fought back the nearly overwhelming urge to make a sarcastic statement about a man who flew across an ocean to stare at an invalid. To distract himself from that urge, he gave in to the one that kept telling him to slick his hair back and sit up straight.
"I find that I have no idea what to say," the other man admitted, compulsively removing his glasses only to immediately put them on again. "Other than stating once again that I truly had no hint of your existence until recently."
"Yeah. Know that." Spike shrugged. "Not holding it against you, if that's what you're worried about."
The elder Giles blinked, then said, "It sounded remarkably like that wasn't the case when I arrived."
Spike found the unraveling edge of the sheet intensely interesting at the moment, as it provided something to look at that wasn't his father. "Yeah, well. Not in the best of moods." He sighed, trying to find words to explain what was going on in his head. "Convenient target an' all, I guess."
They drifted back into an uncomfortable silence, Spike sneaking glances at the man sitting in what he secretly thought of as Beth's chair. It felt as if she'd been gone an excruciatingly long time. Of course, that was no more than a reaction to the awkward situation, and the thought had scarcely entered his mind when the door opened and the doctor strode in, with Beth only a step or three behind him.
It was both a relief and a frustration. The side of him that was glad of the distraction was at war with the part that wanted to know what his father thought of him. If his existence had been a pleasant surprise or merely a problem to be dealt with. Now that there were others here, he found himself craving the privacy to ask the dozens of questions that he'd shoved out of his mind for most of his life.
His father took the opportunity to step out of the room and find a cup of tea, and while the doctor talked about things like medication schedules and physical therapy appointments, Will found his mind drifting to the question of whether he'd blown his chance. Had he seemed uninterested or hostile toward the stranger that was his father? Would the older man believe himself unwelcome, grab a cab back to the airport and be out of his life before he had a chance to know him? He kept glancing toward the door, wondering if, when the doctor was gone, Rupert would actually come back.
"Will?" Beth's voice broke into his thoughts.
"Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinkin'."
"I said if it's okay with you, you can stay at my house. Since the doctor says you're not going to be able to handle things on your own yet." She looked as nervous as he felt.
"If you don't mind me being there."
"I don't mind. Of course I don't."
He wasn't all that sure of that. As a matter of fact, he was just waiting for Beth to realize that she liked being with him a lot better when he wasn't actually there to push her. He figured in a very short amount of time, she would find his constant presence intrusive and remember that she hadn't been at all sure of him until he became a guy on the other end of a phone for weeks. There was something unreal and decidedly nonthreatening about a telephone romance.
The doctor's voice droned on and on, but Will wasn't listening. He was watching Beth listen. The little wrinkle that formed between her eyebrows was just plain cute, he decided. And when she leaned slightly forward in her chair like that, her breasts stretched the material of the red blouse she was wearing today. Point of fact, she looked decidedly dolled up this evening. Her hair was loose and curling around her shoulders, and she was wearing lipstick and mascara.
He knew he should be listening to the doctor, but his mind was stuck on pretty girl and didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. He didn't even notice when the doctor left.
"So! Tomorrow is the day, then." She beamed at him, and something twitched that had been decidedly docile since he woke up. He cleared his throat.
"Yeah. You look remarkably beautiful tonight, by the way." There, he said it. And now her smile turned sweetly mischievous.
"I think you're flirting me, sir."
"Oh, yeah."
"You're feeling better." She drew back, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
"Bit nervous. You dress up for me or my father, pet?" The joke fell flat, and he noticed that her hands were bunched tight in her lap.
"I had no idea he was coming." She giggled, but it was a nervous giggle. "And he's probably coming back now, and you've had like this hugely big day what with the father thing and the getting out of here tomorrow thing and all the good reports from the medical professionals. So my original plans are kind of inappropriate. Not that there was a plan, totally not planned. Completely unplanned and everything."
Okay, now he was nervous. "Look, you feel uncomfortable 'bout having me at your place and we'll figure something else."
"What? No!" She stood up and started pacing. "It's just, I wanted to talk to you about something, but now there's totally too much going on, and I don't know how to put it into actual words anyway, so I'll just shut up now."
"Hey, if you're asking me to marry you, I'll say yes." He meant it as a joke, something outlandish to make her laugh, and realized too late that she was skittish about him anyway and he'd probably just scared her to death. And yeah, there it was. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes opened as wide as they'd go with her mouth hanging open. She hadn't blinked yet. Oh, crap.
"What? No, not married." Now she was blinking. She had returned to her chair with a little more force than was necessary, though. "I mean yet. Unless I shouldn't mean yet. And then I just meant. Oh, hell. You want to get married?"
He swallowed. It wasn't a joke any more, he could tell that much. "Not 'til you want to. If ever. Wasn't asking or anything. Just, you know, I'm there when you are. No pressure. Not asking, know it's too soon. Just, I love you, okay?"
Her mouth had opened and closed three times with no sound emanating from it. When it did, he wasn't at all sure he'd heard it right.
"Well, it's too soon for kids, too, but only abstinence is one hundred percent effective and we so very much did not abstain that weekend."
The world was spinning. He would swear it. Everything had gone kind of fuzzy, and he figured Beth's lack of blinking was contagious. He kept replaying her words in his head, trying to wrap his mind around them. It was too much. It was too everything. Too soon, too much, too perfect, too expensive, too much responsibility, all sorts of things that started with "too."
"Are you going to say anything?"
Was he? She hadn't said anything about keeping it. She hadn't said if she were happy about it, or if she were angry with him. He had somewhere in the vicinity of an infinite number of questions. He didn't ask any of them.
Instead, he said, "You're marrying me. No kid of mine's coming into this world a bloody bastard."
And of course, that was the last thing that he should have said.
She was glaring at him, her back stiff, and she'd just taken an exceptionally deep breath in preparation for what he was willing to bet was going to be one hell of a screaming fit when the door opened and they were no longer alone.
"So, what did the doctor say?" Rupert asked, trying to keep the door from slamming while carrying large Styrofoam cups. "They didn't have tea, but I brought you some coffee, Elizabeth. William, I wasn't certain if you were allowed caffeine, but if you are I'll go and get you some as well."
She was smiling now, but he could see her anger in the line of her shoulders and the tensing of her jaw. "That's very thoughtful, Dr. Giles. Why don't you and Will talk some more over coffee, while I step outside for a few minutes. I need to call work and get tomorrow off to take Will home, and I need some air."
She was gone before his father was able to answer, stalking out of the room like she was on her way to find someone to kill. Oh, balls. Shit. Damn. Fuck.
"Catch her."
"I beg your pardon?"
He couldn't seem to get himself twisted around to get out of bed. "Catch her."
"I don't believe you're supposed to be doing that." A hand landed on his shoulder and his arm was up and swinging before he knew it. He managed to halt the movement, but his father was already moving away from him.
"Okay, knee not working. Reflexes apparently and unfortunately back in order. Sorry 'bout that. Din't mean to. Now, you want father of the year award, Rupert, you could do me the favor of catching my girl!"
"She's just going for a walk."
"To Tibet! I screwed up. I said it wrong. Please!" The old bastard was laughing at him!
"Ah. I see. She'll be back tomorrow when I do believe she said she was picking you up to take you home. If, in fact, she doesn't return after getting a bit of air as she indicated. Now, calm down before you rip out your stitches. Although it isn't my business, I am curious about what happened. Your release is good news, I would have thought you'd be celebrating."
"Yeah, it's not your business." Rupert was blessedly discreet about helping get Spike situated back into a semi-comfortable position in the bed. He was starting to like his father. Who would've thought? He was quiet for a minute, unable to keep from staring at the door. "So, you end up gettin' married?"
"Yes, in fact. My wife passed away some years ago, however."
Well, they had that in common then. "Yeah, mine too." He said, quietly. "Hurts like a bugger when that happens." Which was possibly the most asinine thing ever uttered, but maybe he should have remembered that fact before getting involved with someone. But Beth wasn't going to die.
"That's one way of putting it."
"Yeah. So, what did you do when you screwed up royally?"
"Begged." There was amusement there. "But surely you didn't have the time or opportunity to do anything too bad, William. Apologize for what you said, and depending upon the severity of your mistake you could possibly blame the pain medication."
"Not sorry for what I said, though." He finally looked back at the older man, wondering what in the world was making him talk about this to a virtual stranger. That, perhaps, he could blame on the pain medication. "Just the way I said it."
"Ah. And which made her angry, the content or the presentation?"
"Wish I knew," Will muttered. "Don't think she appreciated me sort of ordering her to marry me instead of, you know, actually asking. Then again, could be mad I asked at all. One or the other sent her running."
And it really wasn't funny. No matter how hard the old man was laughing while he cleaned his glasses.