Apology 8
by Colleen Hillerup
He'd lost track of time. How many people had he visited tonight? Was it anywhere near dawn? He didn't own a wristwatch. He didn't know a vampire who owned a wristwatch. Strange.
He was about to stand up and leave when the front door flew open. "A soul? How extraordinary," Giles exclaimed, his hair still wet and unkempt from the shower.
"Red's got a big mouth." He looked at the ex-watcher, whose face was bright with excitement. "Yeah. A soul. Want to hear the story?"
"I most certainly would." Giles headed back into the house, pausing when he realized that he wasn't followed. "Oh, of course. How foolish of me. Come in, Spike." He gestured to the sofa, where Spike sat, then asked, "Would you like a cuppa tea?"
"I wouldn't say no. Thanks." While Giles bustled about the kitchen, Spike inspected the living room. Sparse furnishings, nothing like the apartment Giles had before. No real personal touches. The place screamed impermanence.
Giles brought the tea and sat it on the coffee table. "This really isn't me, is it? I'm only staying until Willow's ready to be on her own. Slowly weaning her back into society. She hated England."
"I heard a bit about what happened. Can't judge her. If Warren'd shot Buffy, I might a done the same, chip or no."
"Warren did shoot Buffy."
Spike froze, his teacup suspended near his lips. "No one ... Is she ...?"
"She's fine. Willow saved her, from what I understand, or we would have lost her again."
"I'm grateful to her then. And Warren deserved to die. Sorry I can't be more remonstrative."
"To be honest, I agree with you." Giles sipped his tea. "However, the brutality of his death cannot be ignored. She stripped the skin from his living flesh. She tried to destroy the world, and damn near succeeded. Buffy would have died then, along with the rest of us. Willow was in extreme need of help."
"And now?"
Giles sat the cup on the table. "She seems to be better. Coping with her grief. Understanding the enormity of her actions. But I don't plan on leaving her in the immediate future. She isn't ready to be on her own yet."
"You're good at that. Takin' in strays. I never thanked you." His expression was serious. "I was a bloody inconvenience, at best, and I treated you badly. I'm sorry."
"Well, I did chain you up in my bathtub. It was hardly the Regency Hotel."
"Here." Spike pulled a battered wallet from his back pocket, and pulled out some bills. "Here's a hundred. It's all I've got. I never shoulda charged you for that Fyarl thing."
"Put away your money. It was a fair deal, and I'm only glad to have survived the incident. All I really want to know is how you got that soul of yours."
Spike leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "I had to do somethin'. Couldn't live like I was. It was getting so painful. I did something, something I can never forgive, to Buffy. She may well stake me when she sees me, and she wouldn't be wrong. I'd heard about a demon, in Africa, could give you your heart's desire, if you paid the price. He gave me my soul."
"I know what happened. Xander told me."
Spike glared. "He wasn't there. None a his business. What, did he take out a bloody billboard?" He looked down at his hands. "Did Buffy ...?"
"Buffy won't talk about it. Says it's between her and you, and I respect that."
"I must say, I don't know what to make a that." The vampire yawned. "I should be goin'."
"It's late. Or early, rather. And I would like to hear a bit more about Africa tonight, if you're able. Look, there's another couch downstairs. Why don't you stay over tonight? No, don't protest, I'll have none of it. Sleep through the day if you like; you look like you could use it. Besides, it'll do Willow good to see someone besides me."
"Someone who understands a bit a what she's goin' through?" Spike smiled. "Thanks Rupe. I owe you. Again."
by Colleen Hillerup
He'd lost track of time. How many people had he visited tonight? Was it anywhere near dawn? He didn't own a wristwatch. He didn't know a vampire who owned a wristwatch. Strange.
He was about to stand up and leave when the front door flew open. "A soul? How extraordinary," Giles exclaimed, his hair still wet and unkempt from the shower.
"Red's got a big mouth." He looked at the ex-watcher, whose face was bright with excitement. "Yeah. A soul. Want to hear the story?"
"I most certainly would." Giles headed back into the house, pausing when he realized that he wasn't followed. "Oh, of course. How foolish of me. Come in, Spike." He gestured to the sofa, where Spike sat, then asked, "Would you like a cuppa tea?"
"I wouldn't say no. Thanks." While Giles bustled about the kitchen, Spike inspected the living room. Sparse furnishings, nothing like the apartment Giles had before. No real personal touches. The place screamed impermanence.
Giles brought the tea and sat it on the coffee table. "This really isn't me, is it? I'm only staying until Willow's ready to be on her own. Slowly weaning her back into society. She hated England."
"I heard a bit about what happened. Can't judge her. If Warren'd shot Buffy, I might a done the same, chip or no."
"Warren did shoot Buffy."
Spike froze, his teacup suspended near his lips. "No one ... Is she ...?"
"She's fine. Willow saved her, from what I understand, or we would have lost her again."
"I'm grateful to her then. And Warren deserved to die. Sorry I can't be more remonstrative."
"To be honest, I agree with you." Giles sipped his tea. "However, the brutality of his death cannot be ignored. She stripped the skin from his living flesh. She tried to destroy the world, and damn near succeeded. Buffy would have died then, along with the rest of us. Willow was in extreme need of help."
"And now?"
Giles sat the cup on the table. "She seems to be better. Coping with her grief. Understanding the enormity of her actions. But I don't plan on leaving her in the immediate future. She isn't ready to be on her own yet."
"You're good at that. Takin' in strays. I never thanked you." His expression was serious. "I was a bloody inconvenience, at best, and I treated you badly. I'm sorry."
"Well, I did chain you up in my bathtub. It was hardly the Regency Hotel."
"Here." Spike pulled a battered wallet from his back pocket, and pulled out some bills. "Here's a hundred. It's all I've got. I never shoulda charged you for that Fyarl thing."
"Put away your money. It was a fair deal, and I'm only glad to have survived the incident. All I really want to know is how you got that soul of yours."
Spike leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "I had to do somethin'. Couldn't live like I was. It was getting so painful. I did something, something I can never forgive, to Buffy. She may well stake me when she sees me, and she wouldn't be wrong. I'd heard about a demon, in Africa, could give you your heart's desire, if you paid the price. He gave me my soul."
"I know what happened. Xander told me."
Spike glared. "He wasn't there. None a his business. What, did he take out a bloody billboard?" He looked down at his hands. "Did Buffy ...?"
"Buffy won't talk about it. Says it's between her and you, and I respect that."
"I must say, I don't know what to make a that." The vampire yawned. "I should be goin'."
"It's late. Or early, rather. And I would like to hear a bit more about Africa tonight, if you're able. Look, there's another couch downstairs. Why don't you stay over tonight? No, don't protest, I'll have none of it. Sleep through the day if you like; you look like you could use it. Besides, it'll do Willow good to see someone besides me."
"Someone who understands a bit a what she's goin' through?" Spike smiled. "Thanks Rupe. I owe you. Again."