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Like so many English pubs, this one seemed to be lost in time. It had undoubtedly served farmers and artisans looking for a bit of camaraderie for centuries. The smell of beer soaked wood and plain old English cooking, and polished coarse wood tables and booths placed far enough apart to afford each patron some privacy but close enough to be able to get as many patrons in as possible at any given time. Of course there was always room at the bar for someone like Spike who was used to blokes moving out of the way to accommodate him. For Spike, places like this were a comfort zone. He raised an eyebrow and smiled his darkest smile mentally counting all the money in Giles and Xander’s pockets.

He bellied up the bar, set eyes on the barkeep and said, “Three pints of yer best for me ‘n’ me mates m’ good man and a set of your darts. We have a little wager! I’ll buy, as I expect it’ll be the last time tonight.” Spike’s smooth, slick sense of surety rattled the two would be con men and left them afraid …very afraid.

All thoughts of MacGregor and his henchman Enfield left as their thoughts gave way to the dart board, football and ale.
~~~

The three sat enjoying this round of drinks on Spike. It only seemed right. He’d cleaned them out fair and square and he made more than a few friends at the pub since there were some side bets on him as well. The one’s who lost did so in good fellowship. It was an all round pleasant evening here at The Riderless Horse. The locals would be talking about it for some time to come. They were already asking when Spike would be back for another round that turned the conversation at the table around.

Giles picked up his pint of Boddingtons’s and took a deep draught, wiped his mouth and asked, “Well Spike, perhaps it’s time we talked about your plans.”

Spike folded the bills he won and put them into his pocket, tapped his pack of cigarettes to free one from the pack, placed it in his lips and tipped his head to his lighter. He lit his cigarette and took a deep drag, and blew the smoke into the already smoked filled air without ever making eye contact. He finally spoke. Smoke spilled from his mouth with the words, “I was hoping you might tell me, mate.”

Nothing could mask the look of surprise on Giles face. He waited to swallow some peanuts before he answered, “Tell you what?”

Xander looked from man to man trying to read their eyes, sense their feelings. True, he’d never been the most perceptive fellow, in fact, he was usually the last one to catch on to the nuance of a moment, but this time he felt like he was spot on. Oh God, he thought, I’m even starting to think like a Brit. When the moments stretched out and no one broke the silence, he finally said, “Giles, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but Spike has been part of the team for a long time now. You’re not gonna leave him hanging, are you?”

“Oi, Whelp, I don’t need you speakin’ for me. I’ve been takin’ care of myself for a right long time now and I reckon I can keep on just fine. I just figured that before I began my next Grand Tour of Europe I’d check in with the Watcher….y’know? Find out if any beasties needed killin’!” God, he thought, what a loser I’ve become, nearly come to beggin’.

The barkeep called out “Last Call” just as another customer came into the pub. “I’m sorry sir, I’m closin’ up now.” Spike took special notice of the stranger as he waited for Giles to answer Xander.

“Actually, I was hoping you might point out Mr. Giles, the Headmaster at the New Council Academy to me.”

“Aye, Constable,” he answered since the fellow was dressed in what looked like a police uniform, “He’s at the table in the corner with his friends.”

The handsome dark haired stranger followed his gaze and offered thanks and went over to the table. Spike never took his eyes off the man. As a vampire he already knew quite a lot about him…all those handy predatory skills.

“Excuse me, would one of you gentlemen be Rupert Giles,” the man said a nearly incomprehensible Scot accent. Xander raised his eyebrows at the strange sound of the accent and shot a glance to Spike while stifling a giggle. Spike met his gaze with utterly no expression on his face. That puzzled Xander. It was creepy, like Spike was up to something.

Giles turned his head to the stranger and said, ”Yes, I’m Mr. Giles.”

Continuing in the thick accent, the man said, “Mr. Giles, I’m afraid I owe you an apology.” Giles raised his hand to interrupt which the man did not allow, “I’m Malcolm MacGregor.”

“Ah, Mr. MacGregor,” Giles reached for his hand to shake and was taken by surprise as MacGregor made a sort of salute. Somewhat startled by the show he went on, “Ahhh…,” suppressing a smirk, “It’s good of you to seek me out, although completely unnecessary. I would have been happy to see you in the morning in my office.”

Still standing ramrod straight, MacGregor replied, “Yessir, that’s exactly why I came to find you tonight. You see, I’m not available during the day.” Then after a pause, “I have a day job.”

“Oh, I see. Well then, is there a problem?”

“Perhaps sir. Mr. Enfield is a friend of mine and he asked me to fill in for Mr. Binnemon at the last minute. I told him I was uncomfortable just puttin’ in hours at a place without bein’ properly hired and all but he said you were a stickler for makin’ sure all the guard posts were filled every shift and as how he knew Binny wasn’t comin’ in and I needed the money he figured it’d be alright with you and when he told me you had him brought back to the Hall and questioned him I di’n’t want him to get in no trouble and that’s why I came lookin’ fer ye.” He said all this without once gasping for air, a fact that went unnoticed by all except Spike.

Giles hesitated before he answered, “I see…and do you know how it is that Enfield knew that Binnemon wasn’t going to be on the job tonight?”

“No sir, I don’t.”

“Alright, Mr. MacGregor.” Giles began.

“Just MacGregor, sir, if you don’t mind.”

“MacGregor, then. Will you be working tomorrow evening?”

“I’d like to, sir, I need the work.”

“Fine. Report to the Academy Constabulary at 6:00 p.m. Can you manage that with your schedule?”

“Yessir.” He replied remaining at attention.

“When you’ve finished the necessary paperwork tell the Duty Officer that I wish for you to come to my office. I’m often there until after 7:00 and will make certain of it tomorrow.”

“Very well, sir. Thank you, sir.” He turned and left the pub as abruptly as he arrived.

~~~

Watching MacGregor’s ramrod exit, Xander stood and did a ~changing-of-the-guard~ jump and an exaggerated mock salute. “Sir, yes sir, sir….did I say Sir? Sir”

“Alright, Xander, that’s enough. The man does seem to be a bit over the top but that’s no reason to be rude.”

“What rude? The last time I saw something with an accent like that it was in the 1939 rendition of Gunga Din. Victor McLaughlin. Oh yeah, I’m the man you want on your side when you’re playing Trivial Pursuit.”

Giles’ chuckle was cut short by the slow deadly tone in Spike’s voice, “I have something to tell you, Rupert. I think we should leave now.” Giles’ face hardened. He knew the tone implied no threat to Xander or himself, but someone or something raised Spike’s ire.

“Yes, quite. It is getting late and we should be going.” He gathered his things and stood to leave following Spike who was already half way out the door.

Xander sat there, momentarily feeling abandoned.

He changed so much over the years. He applied to the Council to enter the program for Watchers after they closed the Sunnydale Hellmouth. He figured there would be no better time. His one valuable credential was that he was part of the team that did the job. Convincing them he could do the job was a battle, and Giles never let him forget that he “stuck his neck out” for him, but he proved to Giles and the Council that he did have the right stuff. He was doing surprisingly well academically and Giles complimented him on it more than once …but some things never changed.

Xander feared that he was destined to never be more than “the faithful sidekick.” He would never be taken seriously and here he sat …proof of the truth of that fear. Something just happened that escaped him and now Giles and Spike were off discussing a plan of action and he was left behind. Forgotten…but even more painful than that was the knowledge that they were right.

They were never off duty. Every moment of every day their senses were tuned to all things around them. The sights, the sounds, the smells…the subtlety of every gesture, every word. Every encounter held the possibility of danger or threat or an opportunity to learn some important intel. These things were never lost on Giles or Spike and were invisible to him.

He sighed, head bowed, lost in thought. He slipped on his jacket and pushed in his chair and bid a good night to the bartender and slowly walked out of the pub to meet the others.

~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t bad enough that the flight was held up until the weather cleared, a fact that always instills confidence in passengers, and that they flew out at 2 a.m. instead of midnight. No, she was ensconced between two very large, over perfumed women with swollen feet who hoped she didn’t mind if they slipped off their shoes. Mind? Why would she mind? Maybe because they must have used Gorgonzola foot cream to pamper their little sausage toes! She was stuck in the middle because “those are our assigned seats, dear. If we switched and there was a crash, they wouldn’t be able to properly identify our bodies. Besides, Hilda wanted a window seat and I wanted an aisle seat. You should have booked earlier if you had a preference.”

And to make matters even more intolerable, the young mother travelling with the 7 month old and the three year old were in the aisle across from them. Of course, Granny GoodWitch and Granny Fanny Nestlerode wanted to take turns snuggling the baby. That would have been fine if it worked and the baby stopped squirming and whining when they held her, but she only became more enraged and the mother had to take her back.

She was just going to plug in the earphones and listen to some quiet classical music and pretend she was anywhere else than where she was and go to sleep. Sleep didn’t come easy. Her mind was racing between concern over the request from Giles and then Dawn’s call about his hasty turnaround…that was fishy…and concern over the fact that it was the middle of the night and she was thousands of feet in the air over a very cold ocean.

Every time someone got up and walked or rearranged themselves in their seat she got nervous. She knew about science and physics and stuff. She remembered sitting in her Mom’s car waiting while she ran an errand kicking in time to a song on the radio and realizing she was rocking the whole car. A little bitty thing like her could move a whole car! A whole plane full of wiggling people could send it off course and they could end up going out of control. She wanted to stand up and tell everyone to “SIT STILL!”

But still, she had to try to sleep…and it almost worked until the Grannies started snoring in loud, sputtering spurts and snorts, even the earphones couldn’t block them out.

She finally did drift off wondering if a jury would convict her of murder. No. No reasonable person could be held accountable after dealing with all this. It must have been a comforting thought though because it lulled her, at long last, into blessed, welcome sleep.

~~~~~~~

Giles and Spike were waiting in the car for Xander. He took his keys out of his jacket and hoisted himself into the driver’s seat. He adjusted his rear view mirror and started the car. No one spoke…at all. It was surreal. Xander had no idea what to do. Should I say something? Break the ice?…

What the hell happened here?…

Why does the ice need to be broken? Weren’t we just playing darts and having a few pints together?….

God, I hate this.

Hang out with a vampire and weird things are bound to happen…..

OK, let me think this through…if I ask what’s the what then they know I have no clue and they think I’m stupid….right…because I am stupid!

No! I am NOT stupid, just out of the loop….right. ….

Maybe I should lead with an open ended comment and one of them will pick up on it and give me a clue? Something like, “Hey, how about that?”…

But what if they don’t take the bait? What if they say, “How about what?” Where do I go then?

He pulled into the driveway….Before he could say a word, Spike and Giles got out of the car and closed their doors, each saying goodnight , see you tomorrow in their own particular way.

Well…thought Xander, …that went well.

~~~

“Rupert, I think I should be at your office this evening when this MacGregor comes by,” Spike said as he put the morning tea to steep.

Giles was bustling around the cottage preparing to leave for work. “Spike, I’ve been dealing with vampires for a good while now and I doubt there’s anything remarkable about this one. He’ll dust as easily as the next one.”

“Like me, then?”

Giles stopped dead in his tracks, “Easy, old man, getting a bit dramatic, what?”

“You didn’t even recognize that he was a vampire. That makes him special, what.” Spike said with raised voice and with all the sarcasm he could muster. “He’s smooth…and I’ll tell you what else…he’s been a vamp for awhile…no fledge, this one…”

“Yes, and you know all this because you have centuries of experience in vampire clannish ways.” Giles was thrashing books and papers about looking for something as his voice rose, “Give me a break, man. I never even took a good look at him. If you recall he stood at my side when he delivered his address.”

“Ah, and you’ve spent your entire academic life in the study of vampires and their clannish ways,” Spike smirked holding up Giles keys.

Bursting with indignity, Giles grabbed his keys from Spike’s hand and left the cottage, slamming the broken door behind him. It toppled off its hinges and nearly hit him as he went to his car. The sound of Spike’s laughter followed him all the way down the long drive.

~~~

Funny thing, being a busy vampire, but as Giles screeched out of the driveway, Spike realized he had quite a lot to do today starting, he thought, with repairing the door. It would have been far better to have the carpenter do it, he supposed, but over the years he acquired more than a few skills, one of which was simple household repair. Dru kept breaking things in her little flight of fancy and he kept mending them.

She often popped into his head, he realized as he went about realigning the doorframe. Sometimes she brought pleasant memories of good times and sometimes memories followed immediately by overwhelming self-condemnation.

It was going to be a pleasant day. There was a soft breeze wafting its way through the gaping doorway and it brought with it the scent of a crisp country morning. He allowed his mind to continue its random journey as he went about his work. After nailing the boards into place he found some white paint to patch the areas where they had been torn away.

He discarded the tea he fixed for Giles…that the sod never drank…ungrateful prat….reheated tea was just not the same…and set the kettle to boil for a fresh pot as he waited for the paint to dry. His blood supply was getting precariously low and he needed to find a butcher to buy some pigs blood …bugger…too bad he couldn’t just drain the butcher…Those days long gone, old man, he thought…and laughed aloud. It sounded hollow in the empty cottage.

With the tea steeping, he picked up the clutter that he and Xander created in Giles’ home. The William in him didn’t like an untidy room, he was thinking when Buffy wandered into his thoughts…warm skin, even her scent was warm…and welcoming, like ….home….warm enough for both of them. Much more pleasant than thoughts of Drucilla. He sometimes thought he was betraying Buffy when his thoughts turned to Dru, but then realized one couldn’t spend a century with someone without having a memory or two….and afterall, he had spent a century with his dark princess. He loved her….. He did….he thought, and he believed then that it was an eternal flame….no, it was a raging inferno that was destined to extinguish itself.

With Buffy, it was golden embers, always burning deep within…with a sense that it has always been there….even before time. Would he ever have the courage to tell her he was back? Would he ever have the courage to tell her Angel was gone? No….he doubted he would ever see her again and could only warm himself with memories.

~~~





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