Chapter Four: Swallowing His Pride
The bleach blond vampire stood on the porch, hand raised to knock on the doorframe again. After a surprised moment, he let his hand fall by his side. "What happened to the door, mate?"
"Buffy - There was a bit of a ruckus tonight. After all the singing, that is," Giles amended. Spike stared down at the fallen door for a moment, and then back up at him, his eyebrow raised. After a few moments of silence, he made to come in.
"Is Buffy back yet?" he asked. Giles put an arm out, blocking his entrance.
"She is, but she happens to be busy," he said mildly. The vampire snorted.
"Rupes, don't give me that load of bollocks," he smirked. He frowned at the Watcher's outstretched arm. "Come on, mate, help a fellow out here. I have things to discuss with the lady."
"The 'lady' is busy," he said from between clenched teeth.
His tone gave Spike pause.
"Oh, I see how it is. Now that you've all finally sussed out the truth of the matter, you want to be at her side, all high and mighty? Well, don't forget who she came to in the first place!" he said angrily, the muscles twitching in his cheeks.
Giles dropped his arm, counting silently to five. "You were there when she needed someone."
"Too bloody right!"
"I'd like to thank you for that."
His thanks caught the vampire off guard, who blinked up at him, his head tilting to the side.
"You taking the piss, Watcher?" he asked cautiously. Giles sighed and stepped outside, picking the door up from the ground and placing it carefully back into position. It would have to do for now until he could get Xander to fix it. When he was old enough to heft a hammer again, that was. Waving at the stairs, he sat down, waiting for Spike to take a seat next to him.
"Believe it or not, Spike, I'm grateful you were able to talk to her," he admitted. Catching Spike's expression, he laughed without humor. "Yes, I'm there with you. I never thought I would thank you for anything. But it must have given her some little amount of comfort. And we all know she needed it."
Spike studied his profile in silence. "You knew all the time, didn't you?" he asked softly. Giles' silence was all the answer he needed. Jumping to his feet, the vampire destroyed all sense of calm, and began to pace back and forth angrily.
"Why didn't you say something to her?!" he accused him explosively. Giles raised his eyes to meet his. He continued on, unabated. "She needed someone here, and I gave her what I could. But you and I both know I'm the last person she trusts."
"In this case, that's not true," he interjected softly.
This stopped him in his tracks, and he dropped down to crouch in front of him in the grass. "Truth is, Watcher, that if you had been here where you were supposed to be, I never would have entered into the equation." The pain in Spike's eyes belied the matter of fact tone he used. "I knew it; she knew it. I just thought that after tonight things would finally be different."
"Tonight?" Giles asked softly, rising to his feet. "You think with a few songs and dances, you're finally worthy of her?" Spike straightened.
"Not just songs and dances, old man. Quite a bit more," he tossed off, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it with smug satisfaction. "Seems I finally warrant a little lip service after all."
Whatever else he might have added was forgotten as Giles slapped the stick out of his mouth with a glancing blow, his eyes flashing dangerously in his darkened face. Spike stumbled back as he advanced on him.
"If you've taken advantage of her-"
Spike held his hands up in innocence. "Woah, there, Rupert. The slayer kissed me! I was all set for the manly walking away, but she insisted on the big finish. Not to say that I was complaining, but you get the drift."
"The only drift I get, Spike," he began in a menacing tone, "Is that once again, you happen to be there at a time when Buffy's at her most insecure. You insinuate yourself into the picture, waiting like the parasite that you are, for the right moment, when I-"
He stopped abruptly, breathing heavily. Spike's eyes widened.
"Ooh! I see how it is now," he said, gaining momentum. "Old Rupert feeling a bit of yearning for something a bit younger nowadays? Your bit of shag back home giving you the runaround?"
In a flash, he was on the ground, his chin throbbing from the blow. Giles loomed over him, his face a threatening shadow. "If you ever come near her again, I will stake you myself. And Buffy will be all too happy to see you go. Never forget that." With a whirl, he was climbing the steps, at the door before he could make the situation any worse for himself.
"Don't be too sure about that, mate," Spike called after him, enjoying the way the man's shoulders tensed under his sweater. "Like I'd been telling her last one, the overblown GI Joe: whatever you'd like to think, Buffy's needs run a bit darker than the flowers and white picket fences girl you have built up in your head. You remember that."
Without looking back, Giles lifted the door out of the way and put it back in place behind him with shaking hands. He had no idea why he had become so angry. After all, Buffy's life was her own to live. Spike hadn't treated her so badly as to deserve that kind of anger. If only he could get past all this, help her sort out the problems once and for all.
And then what, old man? An inner voice taunted him. Go back to England? Stay here to have her walk past as if you don't exist? What do you want from her?
What did he want from her?