"Oh, come on Watcher! Where's your sense of fun?"

Spike glared at the closed bathroom door but the only reply was the continuing sound of the shower running.

Rupert had had to have heard him, the git.

Turning away, he grumbled under his breath, "Oh yeah, I forgot. It went missing right about the last time you got laid, didn't it."

He rolled his shoulders and neck to relieve some of his tension and sauntered back into Rupert's combined kitchen and living room where he'd spent the evening while the watcher had been away on an errand.

He grabbed the jar which he'd left on the kitchen counter. He'd nicked it right after Rupert had left the kitchen to have his "late night shower."

Spike snorted and proceeded towards the watcher's old sofa and telly.

Stopping in front of the small cluster of furniture, he stretched luxuriously before throwing himself onto the old man's battered couch in a graceful arch. His body connected with a satisfying woomph as upholstery and couch springs fought their uneven battle against an utterly careless vampire.

The jar contained the last of the witch's chocolate chip cookies. Spike removed the lid and tossed it onto the coffee table with a twist of his hand. It skidded on the smooth surface, slid off and landed on the other side somewhere.

He shook out a cookie, took a bite and cushioned his head comfortably on his arm resting against the armrest of the sofa.

Sharing living quarters with Rupert Giles was anything but exciting. In fact it was flat out boring. However, Spike was no fool and he was well aware of the fact that he was far better off than he'd been in a long time.

For starters, he had a soft and warm place to lie down and sleep. He didn't need the comfort but he did appreciate it.

Furthermore as far as he knew, he was safe from the Initiative bastards. And he didn't risk getting staked whenever he wanted to eat.

Besides that he had access to a telly and to Passions which was a bloody good show and there was plenty of blood in the watcher's refrigerator all the time and right now he even had a delicious chocolate chip biscuit in his mouth.

Spike liked human food. Always had. It was a tasty treat which he hadn't often been able to enjoy as Drusilla didn't care for it at all. It unsettled her to watch him eat which was the last thing he wanted to do.

But Spike did like to eat and chew and swallow and he munched happily on his forbidden chocolaty fruit and chuckled a bit.

Silly old bugger'd tried to hide the biscuits in one of the topmost kitchen cupboards behind his jars of Marmite. Spike'd had to climb up onto the kitchen counter in order to reach them. Crashed a jar of goo on his way down, too.

Rupert would have some extensive cleaning up to do once he came back out of his bathroom.

Spike took another bite and snorted. Really, what were they teaching at Watcher school to make Rupert think he could hide cookies from him?

"Um, yes my dear fellow chaps, it is a well-known fact that vampires solely rely on their keen eyesight when hunting."

Stupid wankers. Although, come to think of it, he should be pleased with any ignorance on the Watchers' parts.

Rupert and the Slayer and her gang of poorly dressed misfits were not exactly friendly towards him (and he would have to do some serious bullying if that were ever to happen!) but they were tolerant of him. They didn't seem to want to cause him any serious harm either, let alone dust him. Though truth be told, that Harris boy would probably like to try if he was allowed to, but he was nothing but a dog. Chipped or not, Xander Harris posed no serious threat to Spike and they day he did, Spike would let him stake him.

The rest of the Scoobies truly believed that it was wrong to kill a helpless sentient being, regardless of whether that helpless being was a vampire or not. It was against their moral conscience or some such nonsense.

Spike shook his head in disbelief.

Had any one of them come marching into his crypt with defunct stakes or poor eye sight or some such other defect caused by, say electrical shite stuffed into their brains, he would have cheered and sucked them dry before they could have said "Pretty Please."

Idiots.

He licked his lips and caught a crumble of biscuit. It melted pleasantly on his tongue.

Well, maybe he wouldn't have killed the witch or the Slayer's mum.

For starters, Joyce Summers was a real Mum! Spike did not mess with or kill real Mums! As for the witch, she baked some nice chocolate cookies. And she'd slugged him when he'd wanted to eat her which proved that she got brains as well as obvious magical power. Spike liked that in a girl…

He paused, another cookie ready in his hand. No, he guessed he didn't.

But Joyce Summers – now there's a lady whom he'd never lay a hand on!

The Slayer, though. Boy, did she have it coming!

True, were it not for her and her gang, Spike'd be dead by now. But he'd always known how to find a way out when things were bad. Him being here in the Slayer's own inner circle with her own personal watcher harbouring him was ample proof of that!

Spike considered himself quite the genius for pulling that feat, actually.

On the other hand, it stood to reason that they should treat him with some respect. He'd helped them take care of the Judge and Angelus, hadn't he? And he wasn't just some worthless minion. Far from it.

In fact, a vamp like Spike deserved a bit of special attention considering the fact that he was a century old master vampire of the Aurelius line. He was quite a catch, actually! The watcher ought to do more than merely provide him with food and shelter. Old Rupert might learn a thing or two about vampires if he put his heart and mind into it. That is if Spike was inclined to answer any of his questions, of course. Which he wasn't.

But still. He really should get more than mere, disdainful looks from the watcher's side. Think about the knowledge of vampire lure which he knew better than most. Some of it he had even created. He'd been part of the Scourge of Europe after all.

Oh, yeah, those were good times!

Dru by his side, drinking, whoring, terrorizing together! Each day a bloody, marvelous party! How he missed it.

It was so frustrating not to be able to go out and kill something. Or at least fuck something!

And Dru was gone now, that unfaithful, ungrateful bitch! And sodding Harmony had thrown him out of the bloody crypt! It was a sad fact that the only smart thing Harm had ever done was to get rid of him. Even he could see the irony.

Spike sighed.

Blood and cookies were fine but without love in his life, it was all pointless. The only things that could keep him going were killing and fucking.

Feeling a bit melancholy all of a sudden, he put down the jar of cookies and took a big swig of Rupe's whiskey. Paused and took another big swig.

He placed the bottle on the table next to the couch but missed it. It fell to the floor and the rest of the whiskey spilled out onto the soft carpet.

Spike shrugged. He'd had his fill anyway sipping from the bottle most of the day. He made to lie down a bit more getting ready for some Passions.

"What in Heaven's name is going on in here? What is this smell? Did an animal... Oh, for crying out loud!

"SPIKE!"

Ooh! Rupert was back from his shower! And in a foul mood! Spike cackled silently in glee.

"What have you done to my kitchen? There is Marmite - ouw - and pieces of glass everywhere!"

Spike snickered and shrank back a little to stay out of Rupert's direct line of sight. Not that he was afraid of the watcher or anything. It was just more fun that way.

Spike could hear the faint sound of Giles picking up his glasses. He had to bite his lip in order not to giggle like a naughty little school boy.

"I don't know whether you did this on purpose just to spite me. But you will come out here and clean this up immediately!"

Of course, Sir! Spike rolled his eyes.

"Spike! I'm telling you. I've had it with you. If you don't come out here right now and clean up this mess, I will… I will bloody well stake you! There! I've said it!"

Spike sighed.

"Oh, lighten up, Rupes!" he yelled.

"Lighten up?!"

"Yeah, lighten up. So I spilled your sodding yeast infection! S'nothing but beer waste anyway. Did you know that we didn't have Marmite back in my time? I mean, you can't really call something British when it's not even 100 years old, can you? I really don't see why all of a sudden you lot can't seem to live without it. Mums feed it to their babies soon as they are off their tits! Or before! It's an abomination is what it is!"

He made to sit up a little to get a look at the watcher but was instead yanked up by his arm and off of the couch.

Giles made a disgusted face but he didn't let go.

"You think this is all very funny, don't you?"

Spike couldn't suppress his affirmative smile and he nodded a bit.

"Clearly, you don't care about what people feel or to be more precise, whatI feel about having a vampire, having you stay here in my home. But let me tell you how I feel nonetheless!

"For weeks, you've been nothing but a pain in my arse!"

"You're hurting me, Rupert."

"Am I? I should bloody well hope so!"

Giles' grip on Spike's arm intensified and Spike had to concentrate a bit in order to prevent a pathetic little whimper of pain from escaping his lips.

Giles shook him and Spike growled low in his throat at the audacity but he remained limp and unaggressive. He'd learned his lesson after all.

"First, I couldn't use my toilet or have a bath without you complaining or snickering or whining in the background."

Spike remembered it well. It had had its moments but he was glad to be out of there.

"And now that I am finally able to take a shower in private, there are no clean towels left. You've used them all! And the dirty ones are not where they're supposed to be which is in the laundry basket which you've been told repeatedly! But of course, you don't care do you? No, you simply toss them where ever you see fit which is anywhere in the entire house but the bloody basket intended for the purpose!"

"Well, yeah, what do you expect, Rupert? I'm a vam…"

"Shut up and let me do the talking!

"You scatter my belongings all over my home and you read my books and you crease the pages and you are either too stupid or too lazy to put them back where they belong!"

"Now, I'll have you know that I don't ruin books, I happen to like read…"

"Shut up, Spike! And my records! I can't find a single one of them in their proper places anymore. You've misplaced everything!"

"I sodding well have not! For instance, I've never touched your Abba Gold Col…"

He was shaken so severely, his head snapped back and his teeth clacked shut.

"I can't take this anymore, you annoying, menacing, little, perverse mockery of a man! I shan't!"

Rupert's voice had taken on a very unbecoming high pitched tone.

The man's nails were piercing his skin and he could smell his own blood which reeked of pig's blood and he wished now more than ever that he could simply reach out and rip out the watcher's throat! Using fingers or fangs or blunt teeth, he bloody well didn't care!

But with demon experimenting mad scientists and taser loaded soldier boys out there looking for him and the fact that he couldn't fight anybody or anything any longer, he really didn't have much of a choice but to give in.

He licked his lips carefully and lowered his gaze a bit hoping to look a tad deferential.

"M'sorry, Rupes."

No reaction. If anything, the grip on his arm only tightened. He looked up at Giles trying to look sincere.

"M'really sorry, Rupert. I'll clean up your Marmite and we'll call it quits, yeah?"

Giles looked unmoved.

"And I'll pick up the towels from now on. And rinse my sodding cups and everything!"

The watcher's expression didn't change.

"What are you eating?" Giles asked.

Bugger.

Spike swallowed a bit nervously but he managed to bend down awkwardly despite Giles' firm hold on his upper arm and pick up the jar of cookies from the couch cushions.

There was one cookie left. It was almost whole.

He offered it cautiously to Giles. Giles's nostrils twitched.

"And what about the alcohol you were drinking?"

"Was just having a bit of whiskey, wasn't I?"

"Yes, I can smell that. Where did you put my bottle of 26 year-old single malt whiskey?"

"About that, see. I got a bit surprised by your jabbering on about that Marmite stuff and I dropped it and…"

Rupert looked at Spike.

"It's gone, isn't? T's on the floor. S'not my fault!"

Rupert Giles' eyes could turn black. In fact, his entire face could morph into a dark angry mask. He would be quite magnificent as a vampire.

"Spike. I want you out of here."

"Good to know. I want out of here too! 'Cept, it would be suicide for me to leave you. I can't defend myself! And you bloody well know it!"

"Yes, well, I just can't find myself caring much about that anymore, Spike."

Spike tried to yank free of Rupert's hold on him but to no avail.

Time for a different approach then.

"So, I guess this means that my offer from earlier on today won't change your mind?"

Giles scowled and Spike could sense the apparent error in his remark but he had to carry on and clarify.

"It's not that I don't understand that you're upset, Rupert. I've clearly overstepped your… rules. And granted, the kitchen is a right mess. I can see that and I'll clean it up, all right? And I tell you what. I'll call Red right now to make her bake you some more of those cookies. I mean, she should, considering how she rendered you blind. Talk about careless disrespect, right?"

"Enough, Spike! Cleaning up my kitchen or blackmailing Willow into baking more cookies will not make any difference whatsoever in how much I truly want you gone from my home! And strange as it may seem, neither does your earlier offer."

"Oh come on, Rupert! Spike nearly spluttered with frustration.

"It's not like it would make us poofters and besides you wank off all the time! I have sensed it often enough and don't get me wrong, I think it's bloody brilliant! Shows you still got some spunk!"

At Giles' tired gaze, he realized his slip. "No pun intended! It shows you still got some spirits, some zest is what I meant!

"It's just that it's so much more fun when someone else does it for you or with you. It's an entirely different feeling, you know. Slight body to body contact, pleasant skin friction? It's nice! Plus believe-you-me, it would relieve tension between us considerably!

Giles showed no reaction.

"I mean honestly Rupert, seeing as how your life is virtually nonexistent and how my unlife has been put on a leash, we should man up and benefit from this bloody inconvenient situation, shouldn't we? S'only reasonable, when you think of it.

"You are past feeling ashamed of your sexual needs, right?"

Rupert Giles stared at him and slowly removed his glasses.

The watcher looked like a serious headmaster. As Spike did not shy away from any kinks, he bit his lower lip in anticipation.

"Quite so, Spike. We're both adults here. At least when one counts human years."

Giles released Spike's arm.

"Of course I take care of my own needs from time to time. It is only natural but contrary to what you and perhaps to what Buffy and her friends believe, I actually do have a life outside of Sunnydale. I have people whom I care for deeply. People whom I should like to think care for me just as deeply.

"For reasons you won't understand and which don't concern you, I prefer to keep things simple as long as I'm the Slayer's watcher. That entails my not attaching myself too much to people close to me.

"I made the mistake of forgetting that resolve two years ago and it cost me dearly. Cost a woman I had come to love her life...

"Now, I do realize that what you are proposing has got nothing to do with love or romance. I do appreciate the notion. But honestly Spike. You must realize that the last thing I would ever want in my bed is a loathsome creature like you."

Spike lifted his chin in response to the insult.

Giles shook his head, sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He put back his glasses and stepped away from Spike.

Spike managed to snort derisively. He shrugged and moved resolutely towards the kitchen.

"I say it's your bloody loss, watcher!"

"Hardly," came the dry reply.

"And Spike, before you start cleaning up my kitchen..."

Spike huffed in annoyance and turned around, hands on his hips.

"What?"

"For God's sake, man. Put on some clothes!"

***The end***

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