Xander curses as his cell phone rings. He's right in the middle of fitting a heavy closet door in a door frame, which is not an easy task, but the perky ringtone tells him who it is and that he better answer it. He puts the door down carefully and grabs the phone.

"Hi Xander."

"Hi Willow."

"How are you?" she asks.

"Hanging in there. Working mostly. You?"

"Trying to. It's hard, though. I still miss her so much. She was my best friend, I mean, girlfriend, because you're my…" She sighs deeply. "You know what I mean."

He smiles a bit. Of course, he knows what she means. He's Willow's oldest friend and she is his. And Buffy was their best friend. It's good to know that Will's still around but now that Buffy is truly gone, it is as if a big part of who he is or was, is missing. The three of them grew to become grownups together during those significant late teens. The finality of Buffy's death hurts and it probably always will.

It's been nearly six years since the Hellmouth collapsed. They have all lost loved ones. Even though they have rarely seen each other since then, in many ways the three of them were closer than before in the end. Whenever they were able to get together, it was as if no time had passed at all. Except, or so he likes to think, they had all become a bit wiser and much more mature. Luckily, these changes added to the plus side of their friendships. Finally rid of crazy teenage hormones and inferiority complexes or superior ditto, they were able to actually listen to each other. Give each other better advice and respected it when well-meant advice wasn't followed anyway. All in all the three of them finally became the friends, they always thought they were. Then came Buffy's solo trip to Egypt.

Dawn of course has been the one suffering the worst through all of this. Xander had to be the one to tell her. Well, he didn't have to, but he wanted to be the one to do it. He and Dawn have always been pretty close. So he flew out and spent time with her in San Francisco after the memorial. Ended up spending nearly a month on the west coast.

All Dawn has left now for family is Hank Summers. To the man's credit and everybody's surprise, Hank finally stepped up to his responsibilities. Dawn says he calls her every week still and even visits her once in a while. Besides, Dawn is all grown up now, too. She lives in a small rental with her boyfriend Keith who's a decent guy. Dawn is not Buffy's sister for anything. She'll get through this because, just like Buffy, she's tough. Way tougher than she looks. Eventually, they will all get through this. It still hurts as fuck, though. Which reminds him:

"How's Giles doing?"

At the memorial held in England, Giles hadn't said much to Xander if anything at all. He'd looked like hell though. He and Buffy were living in England working with council right up until the accident. These past years, after most of the senior watchers were assassinated in the bombing by the First's minions, the council has been little more than a name and some big bank accounts. It's consisted of a scattered group of half-experienced watchers with Giles trying to take charge of things gradually. A real, functioning council is crucial to the slaying business. To begin with Xander had worked for the council in Africa trying to locate slayers on the continent. Willow had traveled back and forth between the US and the UK teaching and learning magic, trying to organize covens. There were a bunch of Wicca groups out there, but very few actual witches and finding slayers in Africa hadn't exactly been a piece of cake, either.

They had needed some sort of ground control and Buffy and Giles had found the location for the new headquarters, not too far away from Giles' private home.

It was in Giles's kitchen less than a year ago that Xander had told them that he had decided to quit working in the demonic business to take up work as a regular carpenter. Or to be more precise as a regular carpenter-painter-whatever-you-needed handyman. Anything as long as it didn't entail scales, slime, fangs and supernatural beings. Giles had not been pleased. But Buffy had been supportive right from the get go. The two of them had been sitting outside on the steps leading down to a small patio behind the house that night, just watching stars and chatting about this and that. She had wished him good luck and he'd wished her the same. Guess, her wish was more potent than his had turned out to be. Only months later, the council, that was Giles, had sent her off to a quick and easy mission in Egypt. This no-brainer, no-danger mission ended up being Buffy's last assignment. Who the hell knew that there were landmines in Egypt? Millions of them even? Of course, nobody blames Giles for what happened. But Xander isn't too sure that Giles feels the same way.

"He is not doing good, which is why I'm calling you, Xander. My friend, Inez works at the council. She's sort of a witchcraft expert without being, you know, witchy. Anyway, she called me the other night and asked me about Giles. She wanted to know how he used to be back when he was working with us. We're not that close so it took her a while to get to the bottom of it which is that she is really worried about him. Lately, he's been acting, well strange, she said. Right after Buffy's death, he was really withdrawn. I guess, we all were. But now he'll get these hissing fits and sometimes he'll simply get up and leave the office. And he makes a lot of mistakes, too. Acting very, you know, un-Gilesy.

"He's still mourning Buffy, of course," Willow continues. "and it's pretty clear that he blames himself for what happened, but he doesn't want to talk about it at all. Inez says that he's refused getting professional help and that he's just getting more and more irrational. So I called him yesterday to see if I could get him to open up a bit, but he more or less hung up on me. He told me that he appreciated me calling, but that he needed time alone and that I shouldn't contact him for a while. At least not concerning private matters. Said that he'd get back to me, when he was feeling better."

"Alright then," Xander says. "Then give the man some space, Willow. Let him be for a while."

"But I'm afraid he's going to do something stupid, Xander! I know he said to leave him alone, but that's not right, I think. One of us should go see him to make sure he's OK. And well, since you haven't called him, it means, that you haven't been told to stay away, you know? You're still in Europe, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I am. But Willow, Giles and me… Look, I don't think he'd like a visit from me. I mean, I'm good at fixing houses or picking up laundry and donuts or rounding up the occasional Equatorial slayer, but when it comes to Giles? We've never really seen eye to eye, Willow. Don't get me wrong: It's not that I don't like him or don't wanna be there for him. I do! It's just… well, I've always felt like I wasn't clever enough for him."

"First of all that is so not true, Xander! Giles loves you! And it's not about giving clever advice. It's about giving comfort and.. and hugs! And you're good at that! All you gotta do is pay him a visit and stay with him for a few days. Just tell him that you don't have anywhere else to stay. He'll loosen up once you get there, I'm sure. He's like… in many ways, he's our dad, Xander."

Well, Willow is right about that. At least in the sense that most dads are often slightly disappointed with their sons. Besides, it's really not fair to Giles who has been a way better father figure than Tony Harris ever was.

"Alright, I'll go. But I have some unfinished work to do here. It'll have to wait a couple of weeks or so. You said this friend of yours – Inez – is keeping an eye on him, right? That way, at least we'll know about it if he suddenly doesn't show up at work. In that case, I'll be there pronto."

"Alright, Xander. Thanks. I'll call Inez and make sure she tells me if he, you know, acts odder or… calls in sick or some other thing that he'd never normally do. And let her make some flight reservations for you."

He tucks the phone back inside his pocket once they've said their goodbyes and sighs. This was not part of his plans at all. Currently, he is living in Berlin working for a family from Boston who's bought a condo in the old Eastern part of the city. The location is pretty perfect. The family pays him handsomely for renovating the entire apartment and he likes the neighborhood and the relaxed atmosphere. And the beer. He sleeps in the apartment so boarding is free as well. He has promised the family that the place will be ready when they return next month. But if he speeds it up a bit he should be able to be done with the final details in a little less than two weeks. Maybe one.

By then, he'll have to find a new place to live anyway. He's got his small beach house back in Oregon that he bought last year. Maybe it's time to go home to the US again. No matter what, he's in not going back to doing watcher business. One single scheduled and ordinary project at a time for him, thank you very much. That's how his brain best works. No more random demon killing or slayer searching or getting attacked by freak monsters. Never again.

Part 6

Getting the rack made turns out to be easier than he had imagined.

He has contacted a blacksmith up north and told the man that he is a physician specialized in treating patients suffering from severe cerebral palsy and that he requires a customized treatment bed. He needs a rack which can be attached to bedframe. It will have to made of sturdy metal to which one can secure the patients firmly for their own safety's sake. Partly to allow the patients to rest while they are having massages or being examined and partly to let them be able to move their limbs in controlled motions via the rack's special design. The smith is nodding approvingly as Giles describes what he wants. The system, which Giles has envisioned and designed, consists of two metal rails running along either side of a bed. The rails are to be bolted to the top and bottom of the bedframe and are quite similar to those of an average curtain slide bar. In this case, the slide bars are manufactured from much stronger materials of course. He tells the blacksmith that the patients are often unexpectedly strong as they lack any normal muscle restraint. It is therefore of utmost importance that they cannot free themselves or fall off the bed during their treatment sessions in any way. Apart from preventing the patients from hurting themselves, the restraints will also prevent a patient from unintentionally knocking out a caretaker. The blacksmith laughs at this little joke and Giles can tell how all of this makes perfect sense to the man, who is eager to begin the work. The man nods in agreement, when he is told how heavy steel eye bolt sliders are to run inside the metal rails and how the eyes on the bolts must be around the size of a grown man's thumb in order to accommodate various sizes and types of restraining equipment. Along the sides of the two metal rails, holes are to be drilled in in two-and-twos, so that each eye bolt slider can be locked into place by pushing sturdy metal pegs through the holes on either side, securing the pegs with screw bolts and thus locking the sliders firmly in place.

The smith gets a generous down payment paid in cash paid by a physician who has never existed.

Only fourteen days later, Giles returns and picks up the ordered wares, thanking whatever gods there are for his old horse trailer on to which he quickly loads the rack and accessories. He pays the smith what he owes him plus a bit more, and promptly leaves.

It takes him the better part of a day to fasten the rack onto his huge oak bed in the upstairs bedroom. One of the rails runs along the middle of the king sized bed from the head frame to the foot of the bed, the other along the side. He does not want to keep the vampire in the cellar on a long term basis and he does not get any visitors anymore so there is no need for hiding Spike. Besides the cellar is terribly chilly. He has still not quite made up his mind about what to do with the vampire. But no matter what, he cannot set him free after having kept him chained up for nearly a month.

People would think he had gone mad.

Part 7

He keeps Spike gagged most of the time.

Whenever he needs to clean up the vampire or change the bedding, he injects a heavy dose of tranquilizer into the body and quite easily manages to maneuver the vampire around. Spike has always been a petite man, and though Giles feeds him regularly, he has lost quite a bit of weight. The bathroom is right next to the bedroom, but lately, he does not bother with the tub, but simply gives Spike sponge baths in the bed. And while he doesn't make Spike pass out entirely anymore, he keeps him sedated enough so that the vampire is never entirely clearheaded. Still, the sponge baths make the vampire yelp and squirm and occasionally snap his teeth at Giles. The only thing they catch is the metal bit on the gag. Giles tsks and sometimes finds himself become slightly aroused by the sight of the struggling creature. It is a very intimate procedure after all and Spike's naked body is a beautiful sight. Spike has not worn clothes for weeks now as Giles quickly came to realize that it was far too bothersome to let Spike wear any.

Part 8

He's stopped injecting the tranquilizer and begun drugging the blood instead. Sadly, this means that he has to discipline Spike whenever the vampire deliberately spills blood on the linen or worse, spits it clumsily onto Giles's face. Spikes poses too great a risk undrugged so there is no help for it. After only a few rounds of lashes to the slender foot soles, Spike has mostly stopped behaving like a child. These days he is eating quite nicely and otherwise lies silently, starring up at the ceiling.

Occasionally, Spike turns his face away and Giles can hear the stiffled sobs, which the vampire is trying to hold back. Giles always leaves the room whenever that happens. The gag, thankfully, muffles most of the noise. He decides he has to find something more effective than the drug, which he's currently been using. He needs to keep Spike sedated without passing out entirely and without paralyzing him. The current drugs sometimes result in seizures, which are quite unpleasant to watch. His blood supplier might know of some alternative. He's slept next to Spike for some weeks now. The bed is big enough and the rack and gag keeps him safe, but the jerks and twitches wakes him up every so often which is bothersome.

Whenever he needs to change the linen or give Spike his now, daily evening sponge baths, Giles moves Spike's legs from their usual stretched out position to a bent position. Spike clearly does not like it, but it cannot be helped. He keeps Spike's arms spread above either side of the vampire's head and as the creature weighs so little, he manages to get him clean and get the bedding changed too whenever necessary without much trouble.

He has placed a folded yoga mat under Spike's head as it is far easier to feed the vampire if his head is raised a bit. The pillow is easy to wipe clean should any blood be spilled. despite Spike's training.

Part 9

He thinks he'll shave Spike's crotch. The hairs bother him, when he washes the vampire. He rather likes the smooth feeling of Spike's inhumanly silky skin and the coarse and curly hairs seem entirely out of place. Besides, they make the vampire look like a man, which does not sit right with Giles at all. Yes, the hairs will have to go.

All in all, everything is working out satisfactory.