Spike poured Scotch on the rocks for Giles and Xander while he had his neat; he sipped his drink as he tossed the salad. Giles had given up his anger. He realized it wasn’t worth holding onto it considering the other events of their day. Winding down with a drink before dinner was just what the doctor ordered and from the looks of things, Spike was quite the host. It made him wonder about how and when Spike learned this sort of thing….Probably as a boy….Maybe after he was turned with his family?…which led him to thinking about that menu ….ewww. Better not go there.
Apart from comments about the dinner and the attention that had gone into wine selection there was little discussion at the table. Playing softly was a recordings of chamber music. It lent a perfect touch to the quiet dinner party. Spike picked a French Chardonnay to go with the salad. Nothing to do but to finish the bottle. It would be a waste not to, nobody would want to drink it tomorrow. By the time they were moving on to the steak, steamed asparagus and garlic-buttered French bread, they considered finishing each bottle a duty, but that’s what four fingers of Scotch followed immediately by Chardonnay will do to you.
Spike broiled the steak to perfection with a nearly raw piece set aside for himself, just browned enough to look cooked out of deference to his squeamish dinner partners, and served it with a robust burgundy. As he poured a second glass around, the mood was mellow with conversation kept to light matters. They brought Spike up to speed on the plans for the current schools and development of others.
“Well…. There are three schools now, Giles said rather proudly, in between bites. The New Council Academy for Exceptional Girls: one in Los Angeles, California housed in Angel’s Hyperion Hotel; one in Cleveland over a still somewhat active Hellmouth in an old hospital building that had lain waste which we acquired from the city after accessing the monies hoarded by the previous Council. Giles pulled himself up short, “oh dear, that sounds bitter doesn’t it? I suppose, invested carefully would be a kinder expression, and I should be grateful. Thanks to their frugality, we have no lack of ah…um…. fundage….to quote Buffy……”Giles paused and smiled tenderly, “…and one here in the west of England.
“Yes,” he said, “we’ve come a long, long way” and then suddenly, “bah,” he said, “shame on me. It’s been too long since I gave a thought to the …ah…Scoobies.”
Xander, who was doing a fine job on his second helping of the steak, said, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, G. We may not like it, but life does move on.”
Frowning at Xander, Giles said, “I’d prefer you didn’t call me G, Alex.”
Xander raised his brow and Spike quickly covered his mouth as he nearly spit all over the table at the snarky comment. “Point taken,” Xander said.
Giles went on, “But…thank you, your gaff reminds me of Faith. I know she was never really a Scooby, she was, nonetheless, one of the final team, and is now Slayer in Residence in Los Angeles with Andrew. Like a dog with a bone, once he sets his mind to something, there is no stopping him.” He stopped and lifted his glass toward Spike indicating he wanted a refill. Spike complied. He nodded in thanks and continued, “Buffy is in Cleveland and Kennedy, here in Gloucester”. He opened his mouth as if to continue, and paused to consider Buffy.. So lonely. So sad. Nothing left of the delightful young girl he met so long ago and now thought of as a daughter. She had seen more sorrow and darkness….he took off his glasses to polish, and sighed a deep sigh, it was difficult even to consider. He chose not to share those thoughts and cleared his throat and went on to speak of Kennedy. He cringed. He so thoroughly disliked her. “It is a rare day when we don’t clash over some point or other… and finally,” he sighed, …Xander is here as a Watcher in Training.” Giles smiled at Xander and went on, “ Whether he realized it or not, he honed his skills as a buffer during those critical years in Sunnydale and did an acceptable job at keeping me from sending Kennedy to somewhere in the darkest part of the Congo…” and then concluded, reaching for another piece of garlic bread, “until now.”
Spike, seeing Xander’s face taking on the glow of pride took the opportunity to take him down a peg, “Oh, yeah. If I remember correctly, Harris helped buffer the Slayer right out of her own home.”
Not being one of Xander’s stellar moments, he looked stunned, dropped his eyes and hung his head. Giles quickly sought to defuse the moment and said, “Yes,…we all made a lot of mistakes back then.”
What had been a mostly pleasant evening thus far took on a decided chill. The three men remained speechless for a time while each considered events long past.
“What about Red?” Spike asked, seeking to change the mood. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t find a spot for her in your little empire?”
“Quite right, Spike. Willow is a key figure amongst us. She is assigned to Cleveland with Buffy. Honestly? She would be better placed at the Council, or here, but I wanted to make sure Buffy had a friend nearby. I know Buffy would have no trouble making new friends but I felt she needed someone who witnessed the remarkable events in Sunnydale. One who understood… as much as anyone might understand, and I knew Willow had a good heart and would stand by Buffy and support her, even if she occasionally disagreed with her.” He beamed. “And I recall, she may have been hesitant setting Buffy straight, but she always saw it through.” He felt good about that decision. “Oh, I suppose I should mention that she isn’t idle there. She serves as liaison to all our offices and satellites. I assure you we keep her very busy.”
Xander interjected, “And…it got her away from Kennedy, which I, for one, raised my hand high when the vote came up.”
“You voted? What? Just the two of you, or the whole bleedin’ council?” Spike asked, surprised.
Giles shook his head in disbelief, “Of course there was no vote.”
He started to go on but before he could finish, Xander said, “That was a joke… sarcasm?…or literary license or something. You, Captain Peroxide…being bereft of humor,… didn’t. get. it! Apparently funny didn’t appear in history until after you died.”
Spike’s eyes glowed yellow and the table shook with the vibration of a low growl. Giles made haste to continue, “I abhorred how Kennedy attempted to dominate Willow. The foolish girl had no idea of Willow’s power. No…I preferred Willow be in the company of a comfortable, loving friend, not a volatile, nefarious lover.” Then he went on to boast of his plans for Xander and admitted that he really was quite proud of his progress. Xander actually blushed and the talk turned to happier times in Sunnydale. It slowed the pace considerably; there weren’t that many happy times in Sunnydale.
Just before dessert Spike changed the music to an earthy New Orleans blues quartet, very visceral music. The last of the dinner Spike served at the table was a large bowl of strawberries with crème fraise and a New York haut Sauterne, quite sweet, but very light and fruity. A port would have been much too heavy against the fresh berries.
~~~
The table was cleared. The dishes stacked. A tray of grapes, with sections of apples and oranges and very sharp cheddar was placed on the small table in front of the couch and each man had a tumbler of brandy when Spike began to weave his tale.
He spoke slowly and deliberately in his deep velvet voice, the sultry music quietly continuing as a background lent gravity to the mood. “Angel is …gone…dusted,” he said. “So is Wesley Windham-Pryce, Fred Burkle, a beautiful, kind, little scientist, Charlie Gunn, part of Angel’s AI team and a whole lot of innocents. I figured you knew all about this bein’ the new sovereign of all things mystic, an’ all. Didn’t reckon on havin’ to do the tellin’ myself.”
Somewhat drowsily, Giles said, “Establishing the schools and organizing the Council has taken every moment of my time, Spike.” He heaved a sigh, “To be honest, Sunnydale had been THE most active Hellmouth and with its collapse, I believed I could relax on the issue of another imminent global apocalypse. Evidently I was wrong.”
Something in Giles’ tone rankled Spike so he stood and menaced at Giles, “You self-inflated, pompous son of a bitch. You really do think the world revolves only around you. People died…good people …my friends…your…friends…Christ Almighty, I’m a fuckin’ vampire and I care more about …mankind…than you do.”
Now he was pacing, muttering to himself, searching for words, deciding what to say and what not to say. Giles and Xander watched, each cognizant of how much he resembled a ferocious panther and feared he would strike. “I happen to know that Angel called you….to ask for help…you blew him off…” He was primed now…these were wounds that wouldn’t heal until they were cleansed and now was as good a time as any to cauterize the festering anger that had been building in his soul. He dropped to his knees in front of Giles. Xander jumped expecting an attack.
“Settle down, Harris, I’m goin’ to say my piece now…there’s a score I mean to settle with the old man here and you might as well hear it. You need to understand what a right bastard he can be.” Meeting Giles square in the eye, he began, low and threatening, “There was a girl. A tiny, sweet, brilliant girl who was part of Angel’s team. She was everything that is good and a very bad thing happened to her. She got caught up in a crazy scheme only made crazier by one of Wolfram & Hart’s lackeys. She died, but she didn’t just die, you see. Her life essence was sucked out of her to make room for someone else …SUCKED OUT!” He roared into Giles face.
Throughout this diatribe, Giles sat and met Spike’s gaze not willing to have his spirit broken by Spike’s furor. He knew he had more things to contend with on any given day than any man ever should and he could not be held responsible for what happened somewhere outside his radar. His absence of response didn’t surprise Spike, not really. He remembered vividly how easily Giles bought into Wood’s plan to kill him. This little sojourn up until now was agreeable, but he must always remember that Giles was nearly as dangerous a predator as he was. It occurred to him that maybe that was why he came to Giles now…he recognized in the Watcher a soul nearly as depraved as his own and in need of redemption as much as he was himself.
He stood and seized the bottle and took a swig straight from the bottle, “Parched,” he said. His voice was hardly above a whisper as he said, “You were in a position to help, Rupert. You had knowledge and resources that Angel didn’t have. He believed you were a white hat and would help in a righteous cause. He was wrong.”
“Spike, Angel was affiliated with Wolfram & Hart, a syndicated network of evil,” Giles said in his driest English tone.
Feeling the need to defend Giles’, Xander chimed in reminding Spike that Angel moved on years earlier.
They were worlds apart and then came the accusation, “Where the fuck was he when Sunnydale came crashing down on you? I thought Buffy was the “love of his life” yet he didn’t bring his team around to help when things got tough?”
Spike raised his eyebrows in disbelief, “He did come, you dolt. Did that preacher poke out part of your brain too? How do you think I came to wear the amulet?” He shook his head in frustration and waved his arms, spilling some of his drink…”Shit! This isn’t about Angel…,” he turned and faced Giles, “It never occurred to you that Angel would rather give up a limb than ask for help? Shouldn’t that have given you a clue?”
Giles sat rigid at Spike’s fury, still certain his decision was just.
Xander was now moved to stand also and jump into the rapidly deteriorating conversation, “Hold on, Bleach Boy….Angel is dust? I mean, really dead?…dust?” He dropped down on the couch, utterly deflated. “God, Wesley too?….Spike, what the hell happened?…Does Buffy know?”
~~~
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