This story is set in the '70s and deals with the events in Giles' past that were mentioned in 'The Dark Age' (Season 2) Standard disclaimers apply. All hail TIIC!
Prologue
"Mr. Giles, we've been lenient in the past but this is one step too far." The incensed Don scowled down his bulbous red nose at his best student, his jowls quivering with annoyance.
"You're an intelligent young man, Rupert. I have no doubt that you can graduate with a first class degree next year. Outside of that, your social life should be your own but the rumours we've been hearing…… rock and roll concerts, absenting yourself from halls in the middle of the night, and now drunken brawls?! These are not things which we care to have associated with our illustrious university, Mr. Giles." Rupert Giles regarded his tutor dispassionately and said nothing.
"Do you fail to grasp the gravity of your actions? Your father has explained to me your……eh……special circumstances, but such responsibilities should surely drive you to be more mindful of propriety and decorum, not less so. Your father……"
"My father should mind his own damn business" Giles snarled
Peterson stopped in mid tirade and stared in open-mouthed shock at the young man who dared be so insubordinate. Giles merely sneered at him. His father had raised him to respect his superiors and right now that was reason enough to treat the Don with contempt.
"Mr. Giles." Peterson regained his composure and tried a different tack. "Oxford does not want to lose you. Your father's patronage is very important to us. Perhaps we could come to some form of arrangement."
Now it was Giles' turn to be discomfited. "M-my father's patronage?" he felt his blood begin to boil. How long had his father been paying the college to turn a blind eye to his misdemeanours? It was always about bloody appearances. His expression hardened. The Don was right - this was one step to far.
"To hell with it." he growled, then raising his voice "To hell with you all and your "illustrious" bloody university" With that, he rose and stormed from the room, leaving a gaping Peterson in his wake.
Fuelled by rage Giles made his way to his room, which was thankfully empty as everyone else was at commons. He hastily stuffed some things into his satchel and then, shouldering his bass, left without a backward glance.