Please don't make us beg !
By Cyberwulf
Rated PG , just in case .
Spoilers : Set in season 4 , when Spike is living with Giles .
Disclaimer : All characters belong to Joss Whedon .
Summary : Just a typical wet evening with our favourite mismatched room- mates . . .
Spike stood in the rain and sipped his hot chocolate disinterestedly . It felt strange being out before official sunset , but the thick cloud and freezing downpour meant there was little chance of him being roasted alive . Plus it was nearly dark anyway . He sighed . Giles was taking forever . Maybe he'd forgotten his PIN or something . He had another sip of his drink . Finally - here came the Watcher now . Spike swallowed nervously . Giles was slouching along , hands shoved in his pockets , jacket collar turned up against the rain , face set against the weather .
" What's the matter ?" Spike asked . " You get the cash ?"
" 'Insufficient funds'," Giles growled . Spike started walking along beside him . " And I'm not due to sign on for another two days ." He sighed . " I wish I hadn't washed my jeans with the twenty in the pocket . . ."
Spike stared into his drink . He felt around in his pockets , even though he knew there wasn't much point . He had thirty-five cents and two chocolate wrappers in one pocket , and a dollar twenty in change in the other . There was only one thing for it .
Quickly , Spike stuck out a foot . Giles tripped and fell face first in a large mucky puddle . His glasses went flying . Spike glanced around , stripped off his duster and tossed it in another puddle . He dumped the hot chocolate over his head , ripped his T-shirt a little , grabbed the duster and crouched beside Giles , who was searching desperately for his specs . Spike put the duster over Giles' shoulders , murmuring various words of comfort . An upper middle-aged woman approached from down the street . Spike waited until she got close enough to stare , then stood up slowly .
" Please , lady ," he said , slipping into his best nineteenth century loveable street urchin accent while giving her the big innocent yet desperate eyes . " Can you 'elp me ?"
" What's going on ?" Giles spluttered . " Who's talking ?"
The woman brought a hand to her mouth .
" Is he okay ?"
Spike crouched next to Giles again . The Watcher'd scraped his chin in the fall . Beautiful .
" This man ," he said , choking with emotion , " this . . . wonderful man is my father . 'e's blind , y'see , and -"
Giles pushed him off .
" You're not my son ," he snarled , " you're a vampire old enough to be my great-grandfather !"
Spike shook his head sadly .
" 'is mind's not right , neither ," he added . " I bin takin' care of 'im , ever since Mum died -"
" You probably ate her !"
" There , there , Da ," Spike murmured , patting Giles on the back . He looked up at the woman and effortlessly squeezed out some tears . " It's the fumes , y'see , from the old paint factory . Ruined 'is eyes , ruined 'is lungs , ruined 'is mind . . ." He broke off and choked down a sob . " Oh , bloody 'ell . . ." He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand , and lowered his voice . " I 'ate to cry around 'im . . . Twenty years 'e worked there . . ." Spike sniffed , and grew fierce , blinking out some more tears . " And they jus' threw 'im on the scrap 'eap !" He stood up and approached the woman , pleading with his eyes . " I can't work - 'ow can I , when I've got to take care of 'im ? Oh , people say I should put 'im an 'ome , but - 'ow can I ?" He gestured at Giles , remembering his dead puppy for real emotion . " 'e's my father ." He turned to the woman again . " Things are tight . . . I mean , we get some benefits , but it's never enough -"
" Oh , you poor thing ," the woman interrupted . " Here ." She reached into her handbag and started rummaging around . " There you go ." She pressed a folded up bill into Spike's hand . " Take care of your father ."
Spike gazed in wonder at the money .
" Oh no ," he said , shaking his head . " Oh no , this is too much . You're too generous . I mean , I can't -"
" Please take it ," the woman insisted with a smile . " I'll sleep better at night ."
Spike's face lit up and a warm smile spread over his face .
" Thank you ," he replied . " Thank you . Lord bless you , ma'am ." He crouched by Giles again . " Lord bless you !"
The woman smiled again , then headed off down the street . Spike watched till she was out of sight . His own grin faded into a smirk , then he yanked his duster off Giles' shoulders . He stood up , gave it a shake , and put it back on . Giles finally found his miraculously undamaged glasses . He stood up , brushed off his clothes as best he could , and put them back on .
" Well , how much did we make ?"
" Twenty big ones ," Spike replied with a satisfied sigh .
" We have to stop doing this ," Giles remarked . " For all we know , she might really need that money ."
" Rupert ," Spike replied , " WE really need that money ." He pulled out a cigarette packet . " Look , I'm down to my last fag ."
" Well hand it over then ," Giles declared with a sigh .
" Buy your own damn smokes !"
" Not the coffin nails ," Giles answered patiently , " the money ."
" Oh no ," Spike replied . " I'm keeping hold of that . I know you - you'll blow the lot on tea , milk , bread , a tin of meat for the cat . . ."
They headed off down the street .
" We don't have a cat ," Giles declared .
" Well maybe we should get one ," Spike replied . " Be company for you . . . Dad ."
Giles shook his head in despair . The rain eased off and finally let up as night settled over the town .
The End
-^)--)~
By Cyberwulf
Rated PG , just in case .
Spoilers : Set in season 4 , when Spike is living with Giles .
Disclaimer : All characters belong to Joss Whedon .
Summary : Just a typical wet evening with our favourite mismatched room- mates . . .
Spike stood in the rain and sipped his hot chocolate disinterestedly . It felt strange being out before official sunset , but the thick cloud and freezing downpour meant there was little chance of him being roasted alive . Plus it was nearly dark anyway . He sighed . Giles was taking forever . Maybe he'd forgotten his PIN or something . He had another sip of his drink . Finally - here came the Watcher now . Spike swallowed nervously . Giles was slouching along , hands shoved in his pockets , jacket collar turned up against the rain , face set against the weather .
" What's the matter ?" Spike asked . " You get the cash ?"
" 'Insufficient funds'," Giles growled . Spike started walking along beside him . " And I'm not due to sign on for another two days ." He sighed . " I wish I hadn't washed my jeans with the twenty in the pocket . . ."
Spike stared into his drink . He felt around in his pockets , even though he knew there wasn't much point . He had thirty-five cents and two chocolate wrappers in one pocket , and a dollar twenty in change in the other . There was only one thing for it .
Quickly , Spike stuck out a foot . Giles tripped and fell face first in a large mucky puddle . His glasses went flying . Spike glanced around , stripped off his duster and tossed it in another puddle . He dumped the hot chocolate over his head , ripped his T-shirt a little , grabbed the duster and crouched beside Giles , who was searching desperately for his specs . Spike put the duster over Giles' shoulders , murmuring various words of comfort . An upper middle-aged woman approached from down the street . Spike waited until she got close enough to stare , then stood up slowly .
" Please , lady ," he said , slipping into his best nineteenth century loveable street urchin accent while giving her the big innocent yet desperate eyes . " Can you 'elp me ?"
" What's going on ?" Giles spluttered . " Who's talking ?"
The woman brought a hand to her mouth .
" Is he okay ?"
Spike crouched next to Giles again . The Watcher'd scraped his chin in the fall . Beautiful .
" This man ," he said , choking with emotion , " this . . . wonderful man is my father . 'e's blind , y'see , and -"
Giles pushed him off .
" You're not my son ," he snarled , " you're a vampire old enough to be my great-grandfather !"
Spike shook his head sadly .
" 'is mind's not right , neither ," he added . " I bin takin' care of 'im , ever since Mum died -"
" You probably ate her !"
" There , there , Da ," Spike murmured , patting Giles on the back . He looked up at the woman and effortlessly squeezed out some tears . " It's the fumes , y'see , from the old paint factory . Ruined 'is eyes , ruined 'is lungs , ruined 'is mind . . ." He broke off and choked down a sob . " Oh , bloody 'ell . . ." He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand , and lowered his voice . " I 'ate to cry around 'im . . . Twenty years 'e worked there . . ." Spike sniffed , and grew fierce , blinking out some more tears . " And they jus' threw 'im on the scrap 'eap !" He stood up and approached the woman , pleading with his eyes . " I can't work - 'ow can I , when I've got to take care of 'im ? Oh , people say I should put 'im an 'ome , but - 'ow can I ?" He gestured at Giles , remembering his dead puppy for real emotion . " 'e's my father ." He turned to the woman again . " Things are tight . . . I mean , we get some benefits , but it's never enough -"
" Oh , you poor thing ," the woman interrupted . " Here ." She reached into her handbag and started rummaging around . " There you go ." She pressed a folded up bill into Spike's hand . " Take care of your father ."
Spike gazed in wonder at the money .
" Oh no ," he said , shaking his head . " Oh no , this is too much . You're too generous . I mean , I can't -"
" Please take it ," the woman insisted with a smile . " I'll sleep better at night ."
Spike's face lit up and a warm smile spread over his face .
" Thank you ," he replied . " Thank you . Lord bless you , ma'am ." He crouched by Giles again . " Lord bless you !"
The woman smiled again , then headed off down the street . Spike watched till she was out of sight . His own grin faded into a smirk , then he yanked his duster off Giles' shoulders . He stood up , gave it a shake , and put it back on . Giles finally found his miraculously undamaged glasses . He stood up , brushed off his clothes as best he could , and put them back on .
" Well , how much did we make ?"
" Twenty big ones ," Spike replied with a satisfied sigh .
" We have to stop doing this ," Giles remarked . " For all we know , she might really need that money ."
" Rupert ," Spike replied , " WE really need that money ." He pulled out a cigarette packet . " Look , I'm down to my last fag ."
" Well hand it over then ," Giles declared with a sigh .
" Buy your own damn smokes !"
" Not the coffin nails ," Giles answered patiently , " the money ."
" Oh no ," Spike replied . " I'm keeping hold of that . I know you - you'll blow the lot on tea , milk , bread , a tin of meat for the cat . . ."
They headed off down the street .
" We don't have a cat ," Giles declared .
" Well maybe we should get one ," Spike replied . " Be company for you . . . Dad ."
Giles shook his head in despair . The rain eased off and finally let up as night settled over the town .
The End
-^)--)~