Later...

-x-

2 – Spike and Colin.

-x-

There was a moment's wait before the front door was opened. Spike had been warned that Colin would appear very different from the man he had last seen many years ago – he'd even seen a few photographs – but still, he had quite a shock when the other man did finally open the door.

'Oh.' Colin sounded incredibly tired – as tired as Spike felt. 'Hello.' He gestured for Spike to come in. 'Funeral finished already?'

'Yes and no,' Spike replied. 'I thought I'd duck out of the wake early. You've, uh… you've got glitter on your beard.'

'Hmm,' answered Colin, disinterestedly, wiping the back of his hand over the untidy stubble on his chin. 'We've been doing pictures. They're off getting rhubarb at the moment, they'll be back in a bit.' He sniffed. 'Cup of tea?'

'Please.' Spike sank down in the elderly sofa in the small living room and watched Colin wander over to corner of the room that had been designated as a kitchen area.

'Camomile, Elderflower or Green?'

'Got any PG Tips?'

Colin 'Hmm'ed again, and searched through an old tin. 'I've got some decaf Chai,' he announced, 'will that do?'

'Sure.'

'And it's soya milk, I'm afraid.'

'That's fine.'

Colin switched on the kettle and set about making the tea. 'Many people there?'

'Yeah. Lots. All the old crowd – even Kenny and Sarah came.'

'Really.' Colin's tone was empty and sad. 'I should've gone.'

'No,' Spike sighed, 'no, I'm sure everyone understands why you wouldn't want to go…'

'It's not that I didn't want to,' added Colin, 'it's just… you know… it's hard. Surprised you didn't want to stay a bit longer though, catch up with everyone…'

'I'd rather be catching up with Emily than any old friend,' Spike replied. 'You probably see more of that girl than I do.'

Colin smiled a little as he poured out the boiling water. 'She's a sweet kid.'

'I know. God only knows who she gets it from…'

There was a click as the front door was opened from outside.

Spike got to his feet, expectantly.

'Speak of the devil,' he added in a loud voice.

'Daddy!'

A dark haired, seven year old girl came bombing into the living room, carrying a carrier bag full of rhubarb. Spike caught her as she ran and picked her up, spinning her in the air.

'You are getting heavy, little lady! Has your Mommy been feeding you cakes again?'

'I've been to Colin's allotment, Daddy!' exclaimed the girl, excitedly. 'We picked rhubarb – look!'

'Well that's terrific, honey,' Spike told her. 'Tell you what, I got a great recipe for rhubarb crumble, maybe we can make some together, huh?'

'And I lost a tooth!'

'Emily was very excited about the tooth fairy…' added Colin, trailing off as he saw the little boy standing in the doorway.

The boy was frozen to the spot, clutching the doorframe tightly, staring at Spike with trepidation. Spike put his daughter down, offering the little boy a sympathetic smile.

'How's it goin', Graham?'

The boy didn't move, didn't tear his horrified gaze from Spike.

'Graham?' Colin darted around to the boy in the doorway.

'Is he OK?' Spike asked. 'Did I do somethin'?'

'It's just your suit,' Colin explained, quietly. He kneeled down in front of the boy, so that he could meet the child's eye level and took his hand.

'Is it over?' the child whispered.

'Yeah,' Colin told him, 'it's over.'

The little boy nodded at Colin, and burst into a flood of tears.

'Oh…' Colin soothed, wrapping his arms around the sobbing boy. 'Oh, Gray.'

Emily looked up at her father. 'Graham's sad today. He doesn't like funerals.'

'It's OK,' Colin continued to sigh to the boy, 'it's OK, it's OK.'

'We should go,' said Spike, awkwardly.

'Do you want Spike and Emily to leave you be?' Colin asked the boy, softly.

Graham shook his head as he cried.

Colin gave Spike a little affirming glance as he rested his head on the child's shoulder. 'Want to help Daddy get the tea and biscuits?'

'No,' mumbled the boy through his slowing tears, 'S'boring.'

Spike snorted a small laugh.

'Well then, sunshine,' Colin told his son, 'how's about you and Emily go and play in the garden for five minutes?'

Emily looked up at Spike expectantly.

'Five minutes,' Spike told her, 'and then we really do have to go.'

Without another word to either grown up, Emily ran over to Graham and took his hand. 'Don't cry, Graham,' she whispered as she lead him out towards the ground floor flat's little garden, 'we can play Pirates.'

The two men watched their children run out into the garden as Colin brought the two cups of tea over to where Spike was sitting.

'He's been like that all day,' Colin muttered, 'he never even met Kerr… just the fact that there's a funeral going on today really upsets him. Poor mite.'

'Him and Ems get on really well,' Spike observed.

'Yeah.' Colin sipped at his tea. 'It's good for him to have a friend.'

'You, uh…' Spike rubbed his chin, wondering how to broach what was eating at him tactfully. 'You all see a lot of each other these days, huh? Graham and Emily… you and Lynda…'

Colin offered Spike a homemade biscuit. 'Gray's not the only one who needs a friend. We meet up, bitch about our jobs, pool babysitting… admittedly, it's usually me who does the babysitting and her who does the bitching, but that's OK.'

'Guess you two have a lot in common these days,' Spike continued, 'you're a single dad, she's a single mom…'

'She's a terrifying, phenomenally successful media editor, I'm a broken-down basket case who mows lawns for little old ladies…'

'You know what I mean.'

'There is absolutely nothing going on, Spike.'

'Sure,' replied Spike, unconvinced. 'Even if there was, I guess it wouldn't be any of my business any more. I'm kinda surprised she's forgiven you, though. She was beside herself when you… y'know.'

'Went doo-lally?' prompted Colin. 'Yeah, well, one of the things about having a complete mental breakdown is that you tend not to think through the consequences first.'

'Your plaque's still up at the crematorium, I noticed,' Spike added.

'I know,' Colin sighed. 'I keep meaning to do something about that. I suppose that's the risk you take when you fake your own death… you end up with an embarrassing gravestone to deal with once you resurface.'

'You made her mourn for you. You made us all mourn for you.'

'Maybe it's right that it stays there,' continued Colin, half to himself. 'I mean, that Colin Mathews is dead now… I don't know.'

Spike narrowed his eyes over his tea cup. 'Is that why you did it?'

'I did it because I'd gone doo-lally,' Colin told him. 'You can't put reason to that. Still, it felt… symbolic. I stood on the cliff, and I watched the sun come up, and I took all my things out of my pockets and took off my clothes, and with each trapping I threw into the sea I felt like something had come away from me. Something heavy. You know, like Marley's chains?' He sipped his tea, leaning back into the sofa. 'I don't think I've ever been as blissfully happy as I was the day I lost my mind. I could still be there, wandering around, no possessions, no ties, no chains, like I was those three years… but life has a habit of catching up with you. And so here I am.'

'She was never the same after she thought you'd killed yourself,' Spike told his cup.

Colin put his own cup down, sullenly. 'Don't, Spike.'

'I'm just saying…'

'I've got enough to blame myself for without adding your marriage falling apart to the pile, thank you.'

'That's not what I… never mind.'

'I've made my peace with Lynda over this.'

'What about me, Colin? When are you going to make your peace with me?' Spike pushed his cup away. 'Or don't my feelings count as much to you as hers do?'

Colin stared at Spike for a moment, then got up and knocked on the back window, causing the children playing in the garden to look up from their make-believe.

'Come on, Ems,' Colin told the girl. 'Five minutes are up.'

'Give us a minute,' protested Emily.

Spike got to his feet.

'Listen, Colin. I'm sorry. It just… it kills me that you get to see my daughter so much while I hardly ever do. You of all people should understand what that feels like.'

Colin gave Spike an understanding half-smile.

'Listen…' Spike dug in his coat for his wallet. 'Let me give you some money for lookin' after Emily today.'

Colin's face fell into a scowl. From his expression one would think Spike had just offered to spit in his eye.

'OK…' added Spike, trying another tack, 'at least let me pay you for the rhubarb.'

'No.'

'C'mon, Lynda told me you sell that stuff you grow sometimes. How much does it go for?'

'It's a present, Spike…'

'Just a couple of pounds… c'mon. A fiver.' He held a five pound note out at Colin.

'I don't want,' hissed Colin, darkly, 'your fucking money.'

Spike took a deep, controlling breath, and pocketed the note again. 'Fine. Fine. I'm sorry if I insulted you. Thank you for looking after my daughter this afternoon.'

'You're welcome,' Colin replied, insincerely.

Spike leaned over and rapped on the window himself. 'Emily! Time to go.'

'Hang on, Daddy…'

'Now!'

'Look - I didn't mean to snap. I've having a rough day myself.' Colin scratched an eyebrow, looking at Spike's shoes. 'I'm sorry that you don't see much of Emily, Spike. You're right, I do know how horrible that is.'

'Well,' conceded Spike, 'it's not your fault. It's Lynda's.'

Emily trudged through the living room on her way to the front door. 'I'm ready, Daddy.'

'Sure.' Spike forced a polite smile at Colin, watching the other man scoop his son up in a fireman's lift and drop him down into the soft folds of the battered sofa. 'Thanks for the tea.'

'Listen, Spike.' Colin lowered his voice as he ushered Spike towards the flat's front door. 'Do yourself a favour, eh?'

'Huh?'

'No matter how bad it gets between you and Lynda, even if you're screaming down the phone to each other every night, no matter if she threatens never to let you see Emily again…' Colin took a harsh breath through his teeth before he could finish his sentence. 'Don't ever wish her dead.'

'Colin, I wouldn't. Not after that scare with the fire…'

'Not even for a second,' insisted Colin with a frown of concern.

'Not even for a second.' Spike took Emily's hand. 'See ya, Colin.'

'Yeah. Bye. See you next week, Emily.'

Her hand still in her father's, Emily turned to wave to the other man as he shut the door. She turned to Spike.

'What was Colin saying about Mummy?'

'Colin wasn't talking about your Mommy. Mind as we cross the road, sweetheart.'

Emily stopped at the kerb with Spike. 'But he said…'

'Sometimes, when a grown up sounds like they're talking about one thing, they're actually talking about something different,' Spike explained as they crossed the road.

'So what was he really talking about?'

'He was talkin' about Graham's mommy.'

'Oh.' Emily pondered this. 'Can we have custard with the rhubarb crumble?'

Spike lifted his daughter up into a piggyback. 'Oh, you betcha.'