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summer_of_giles2006-07-19 05:38 pm
lilithbint.livejournal.com) wrote in summer_of_giles2006-07-19 05:38 pm
Entry tags:
Grey Man - Giles/Spike
Anyone noticing a recurring relationship in my stories?
My final offering, a little less light than the others...
Grey Man
Author: Lilithangel
Email: abchainey@xtra.co.nz
Website: www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint
Genre: Angst/comfort slash
Fandom: AtS/BtVS
Characters: Spike/Giles
Warnings/Ratings: Adult rating, contains male/male sexual situations
Disclaimer: not mine, no money, don’t sue
Summary: Set after the end of Chosen and Not Fade Away. Giles has left the Watchers Council and lost touch with everyone. He has settled into small town life but the legacy of his choices still haunts him. One day his past comes back.
It was a small country pub patronised by a mixture of locals and incomers who had passed the test of not being too brash or wanting to change things. People like him who had arrived one day, and simply sat with a drink and listened.
When you started really listening the conversations ranged from politics and literature to feed options. These folk had seen a lot in their lives and had ridden the worst of it out. People did not look too deep into the past of incomers so long as they gave the same courtesy.
Thursday night had become a jam night at some point and he finally started bringing his guitar along and joining in. He had been welcomed with a nod and a space made for him in the circle.
Slowly he had started to feel the twisted knots of his psyche begin to relax, and his mind was able to look back on his past without flinching.
* * * * *
He had returned to England after Sunnydale fell, and took up the responsibility of restoring the Council as expected because it had to be done and he always did what had to be done.
He watched his children start to rebuild their lives and make a place for themselves. He watched his slayer pretend to have the normal life she had always wanted and then start dating another with darkness inside to match her own.
And it felt like his own life had been put into a holding pattern, ignored because he once again had a job to do that was more important than he was.
So he continued to do it, making the hard decisions for the good of the council and the slayers, all of whom were his responsibility now. Those decisions seemed to get darker and harsher as the months went on, and he lost a little bit more of himself each time.
He escaped when he could to small out of the way bars to lose his responsibility in a bottle for a few hours, but it was never enough. He ended the relationship with Olivia when he found he could spend himself in her body without even noticing it had happened.
He found temporary solace in the embrace of other empty-eyed men who haunted the same bars as he did, but it was only temporary and no more satisfying the next morning than the booze he had knocked back.
When reports started to filter back about events in L.A he found he had to face his slayer and tell her he had once again kept things from her. No matter that she was normally complicit in the secrets, not wanting to know anything that complicated her role. No matter that she had made it his role to make the hard decisions and carry them out when she couldn’t.
What mattered was that he had interfered with her relationships again and this time left her without the time to make up for it. Nothing was left of the Wolfram & Hart building and nothing could be found of Angel or his team.
The things said the accusations hurled had removed any last desire he had to be a part of things anymore. He had mourned Wesley’s loss and Cordelia’s and even Spike and Angel in a way. But it did not matter in the face of her grief.
So he had finished up his affairs at the Council, groomed a successor and then handed in his resignation.
This time he had not just left, he had contacted each of them in turn and said goodbye. But this time he had not let them know where he was going and nobody had asked.
He had returned to the places of his childhood memories trying to capture the sense of rightness and peace he had held then. All he had found was grey sad places overtaken by the modern world.
Then he wandered into a small town and stopped at a pub. The patrons watched him when he entered but with open curious gazes rather than the hostility he expected in such places.
He stayed for a week and then another finally finding a small cottage with a bit of land for rent, and he stayed.
They welcomed him to the town with simple nods of the head and conversation. He got an account at the local store and a library card for the surprisingly well stocked library.
There was nothing special about the town really except that it suited him perfectly.
He planted a garden and found pleasure in getting his hands dirty rather than worrying about cleanliness. He adopted some animals without having to worry about having to leave them when he was summoned away because he was never summoned anywhere now.
It was a quiet and calm existence and it was just about enough to keep him with the living.
* * * * *
He relaxed into the music as he always did losing himself in the pleasure of harmony and rhythm.
A couple of the locals had more than passable voices, nothing spectacular but enough to complement the musicians and lift the songs higher. So it was a surprise to hear a better than average voice join in. Smoky and bluesy the voice filled the room without being loud joining with the others and raising the level of everyone’s voices.
It was also a somewhat familiar voice that he was not prepared to recognise while the music still soared.
When it ended everyone smiled and a few newcomers clapped before they realised that was not why they performed or why people listened.
Everyone broke for a drink and Rupert went up to the bar to see if the voice would come to him.
Money was dropped on the bar in front of him and a familiar voice ordered a drink.
“Spike,” Rupert turned to face a piece of his past. Gone was the trade mark jacket and gone was the bleached blond hair. Instead he was faced with dirty blond hair still with gel, but not so harshly slicked back, framing the familiar high cheekbones and ancient blue eyes. He looked older somehow but still as pale as before.
“Rupert,” Spike nodded in greeting, “didn’t think to see anyone I knew around here.”
“Do you want to sit?” Rupert asked indicating with a jerk of his head the table where his guitar rested.
“Sure,” Spike nodded.
They made their way through the bar Spike accepting compliments on his singing with small smiles.
They sat at the table and drank in silence. Rupert didn’t know what he should say, what he could say. I heard you were dead again? Seemed rather moot. I’m glad you’re not dust… he wasn’t sure it would be believed or appreciated.
Spike did not seem inclined to break the silence nor did he fidget in the manner Rupert expected of him.
“What happened?” Rupert was finally compelled to ask.
“Everybody’s gone,” Spike answered, “I spent two days under the corpse of a dragon waiting for the authorities to clean up the mess, and then I left.”
Rupert knew there was a lot more to the story than that but was unable to ask the questions, not feeling like it was his place to know.
“How did you end up here?” he asked.
“How did you?” Spike retaliated.
“A lucky accident,” Rupert answered honestly and Spike nodded his agreement, “are you going to stay?” he added.
“Don’t know,” Spike’s eyes scanned the room absorbing the atmosphere, “need to find a job, this place doesn’t look like it suffers from an unemployment problem.”
Rupert raised an eyebrow at the comment; a job was the last thing he expected Spike to be looking for but he let it go as inconsequential for the moment.
“Do you have a place to stay?” he found himself asking.
Spike looked at him hard at the question, whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, and he shook his head.
“You are welcome to stay with me,” Rupert suggested suddenly craving the company of someone who knew what it had been like.
Spike nodded his thanks, and they continued to drink in silence.
The music started up again before the quiet between them became too uncomfortable, and they spent the rest of the evening mixing with the other patrons singing and playing until the early hours.
They left the bar in silence Rupert carrying his guitar and Spike lugging a duffel bag. Rupert led the way to his cottage it was at the outskirts of the town, but he preferred to walk and Spike made no demur about the distance.
“Come in Spike,” Rupert invited the vampire before he could hit the barrier.
Spike looked around as he followed Rupert into the small cluttered living room.
“I can only offer the couch,” Rupert apologised as he cleared the papers and books from the seat, “the spare room is full of boxes and doesn’t actually have a bed.”
“S’all right,” Spike half smiled, “not the bathtub at least.”
Rupert fetched sheets and blankets for the couch as he remembered the last time the vampire had been a guest of his.
“I’ll say goodnight,” Rupert stood at the doorway, “I get up early to feed the animals but I will try not to wake you,” he explained, “there is food in the fridge if you get hungry, I will attempt to arrange some blood for you tomorrow.”
“Thanks Rupes you don’t have to go to any bother,” Spike said.
“It’s not a bother,” Rupert denied, “Spike I’m glad you are still with us,” he said softly as he left and he meant it.
For the first time in months Rupert thought about things in his past again and the shame came flooding back. The choices he made had been the only ones he could see at the time, and he had forced himself not to regret them. But seeing Spike again brought them to the surface and he did regret what had happened.
He had become a killer the day he took Ben’s life to stop Glory returning, and from then on the decisions to sacrifice others to the greater good had become much easier.
He had faced that choice when he had helped Robin try to dust Spike in Sunnydale and Buffy had confronted him. He had not felt guilt then like he had after the events in L.A, but he had still believed it had been necessary.
Now, after looking into eyes that had obviously seen the results of his choices he couldn’t hide behind that anymore. He went to bed feeling closer to the dead man he had become before arriving in the town he now called home.
* * * * *
Rupert came down the stairs quietly to go and feed his menagerie. He looked into the living room and saw Spike was still asleep. The blankets had slipped off him during the night, and Rupert was able to see the evidence of the battle clearly on the pale flesh.
Although it had been months since the battle in L.A Spike’s torso was still criss-crossed with scars and puncture marks revealing how badly things had gone.
In the morning’s half light he watched the vampire move restlessly apparently dreaming and not pleasantly.
Concerned Rupert moved over to the couch. Spike’s face was contorted with pain and his fists were clenched tight. His movements threatened to open the still healing wounds and Rupert felt bound to act.
“Spike,” Rupert reached out to shake the vampire awake.
Preternatural reflexes grabbed his hand before he could touch Spike and pulled him onto his knees. The blue eyes were clouded with nightmares, but Spike did no more than hold him in place while comprehension returned.
Rupert stayed still and did not fight the hold waiting patiently for awareness to appear in the blue eyes.
“What the bloody hell?” Spike asked of the man.
“You were dreaming,” Rupert explained, “it didn’t look like a good one.”
“It wasn’t,” was all Spike would say as he reached for his discarded jeans and then stopped.
“I have to feed the animals,” Rupert explained, “I want you to go upstairs and rest on my bed those wounds of yours need something better than this couch,” he said, “I will fetch some blood for you.”
Spike stared hard at Rupert and then nodded. Carefully he sat up on the couch and stood up pulling a sheet around his waist, “you mentioned animals last night, never pictured you as the farmer type.”
“Nothing that bad,” Rupert blushed, “just a couple of goats, a cow and two donkeys.”
Spike smirked at his admission, “Farmer Giles, it suits you.”
Rupert rolled his eyes at the teasing but felt marginally better for the brief return to their old relationship.
Spike’s grab for his jeans and vague hand movements made Rupert realise that he had not seen the vampire with a cigarette since he arrived.
“Have you given up smoking?” he asked Spike.
“Taste like ashes now,” Spike explained briefly as he made his weary way up the stairs.
Rupert watched him climb and resolved to learn what the cryptic statement meant later.
* * * * *
The animals were pleased to see him and more pleased to see the feed bucket. The routine calmed and helped centre him.
It was surprisingly easy to get a supply of blood without any question. The butcher had simply asked him how much he needed and if he wanted more he just had to ring.
There was none of the usual knowledge in the butcher’s eyes, and Rupert had to conclude that he was simply providing a customer service without any arcane knowledge involved.
Spike was awake and dressed when he returned with the blood looking marginally better for sleep.
They sat in the living room, Rupert nursing a coffee and Spike a mug of warmed blood.
Once again Rupert was struck by the unnatural stillness of the usually hyperactive vampire. A lot had changed for both of them over time, and Rupert had an idea that much of what had changed for Spike was not for the good.
“You don’t work then?” Spike finally broke the silence.
“I tutor at the local school a couple of mornings a week but otherwise I don’t need to work,” Rupert explained.
“What do you do with your time then?” Spike was curious.
“Read, look after the animals, tend my garden,” Rupert listed.
“Bit of a change for you then,” Spike didn’t seem surprised.
“I suppose so,” Rupert acknowledged noncommittally, “what about you Spike?”
“Do what needs to be done, not fussy really,” the shadows were back in Spike’s eyes, and Rupert knew the things Spike had done had hurt him.
“The publican from the bar last night mentioned the Bed and Breakfast down the road is looking for someone to cover evenings for a month or two. They have a new baby and want to spend some time together,” Rupert suggested, “it wouldn’t be glamorous work, but I know the owners and could put a word in for you. If you wanted to stay.”
Spike looked thoughtful and then nodded, “if you wouldn’t mind I would be grateful. Meet and greet answer the phone, could handle that.”
Rupert was struck again by the incongruity of the situation, talking about domestic matters with a vampire that he had tried to kill who would have happily fed off him if not for a piece of metal and plastic.
There was a lot of history between them that needed to be discussed but he was loath to upset the veneer of civility between them.
* * * * *
Spike met with the young couple at the bed and breakfast and won them over with the charm he had never lost.
Things settled into a strange routine after that. Spike remained sleeping on the couch, Rupert gave him a key to get into the cottage and Spike filled the cupboards with supplies, and one shelf in the fridge was given over to containers of blood happily supplied by the local butcher.
Spike would eat dinner with Rupert and then head out to work. As often as not by the time he returned Rupert was fast asleep.
Rupert would move silently through the cottage in the mornings to feed the animals and make himself breakfast. Spike would wake around lunchtime, and if Rupert was around they would share the newspaper and watch some television.
Conversation was civil and spanned a whole range of topics. Spike was still addicted to daytime soaps and Rupert was dragged back into them without realising it.
Occasionally there would be a flash of the old Spike and Rupert found he welcomed them.
Spike still had nightmares and Rupert watched over him until they were over, but he never approached the shaking vampire until clarity returned.
When the couple found out Spike had sung at the bar they insisted he have Thursdays off to join everyone and he became part of the regular event. Rupert would take his guitar and they would have a pub meal before joining the tables at the end of the room.
Spike would smile and flirt with the barmaids but he never left with anyone. Rupert contented himself with the occasional night time wank and assumed Spike did the same.
Spike’s injuries finally healed and he started to fill out much to Rupert’s relief.
One night Rupert went into the spare room and pulled out all the boxes stored in there and started to sort them out. Spike arrived home to find him surrounded by the remainders of his time in Sunnydale half way through a bottle of whiskey.
Wordlessly Spike sat down and started to help snagging the whiskey out of Rupert’s lax fingers first.
“What happened?” Spike finally asked and Rupert knew he wasn’t talking about just the boxes.
“I made decisions; at the time I thought they were the right ones. I found myself turning into the very thing I despised most. So I left, they did not ask me to stay this time,” it seemed like very few words to describe everything that he had done, but summed it up nicely.
“Some of them were right,” Spike replied, “some sucked. It wouldn’t have made a difference but it might have meant we had company on the way to hell.”
“What happened?” Rupert asked for the first time.
“Angel made some decisions he thought they were the right ones too. We took on the big boys and lost. As far as I know I was the last man standing in the end, couldn’t find the others. I left, been wandering ever since.” It wasn’t many words to sum up what had obviously happened but Rupert understood.
“I’m sorry,” it was a small thing but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“So am I,” Spike answered taking another drink from the bottle.
“Did you…” he hesitated to ask the blond but had to know, “have you seen anyone else?”
“Buffy?” Spike knew what he meant, “went there first thought maybe if anyone else had made it out they might have gone there.”
Rupert knew that only one person would have possibly gone to Buffy if they had survived, and it was a telling admission.
“We said what had to be said, which wasn’t much in the end,” Spike continued, “didn’t feel any need to see any of the others so I left.”
Rupert imagined in the end the parting was somewhat similar to his own and couldn’t think of anything to say.
They emptied the boxes, and Rupert finally put away the remnants of his past and it felt good to watch it go.
A new bed was delivered and Spike moved in with little fuss and they continued on as before.
People in town began to talk about them as if they were a couple and neither did anything to disabuse the notion.
When the job at the Bed and Breakfast ended Spike was approached by the local health clinic to man the evening desk at the A&E ward. His need for night work was never questioned, they were just happy to have someone willing to do the late shift. From that he managed to acquire old blood without questions and for the first time truly began to look healthy.
Rupert had forgotten what it was like to have company on a regular basis and began to miss Spike when emergencies kept him at the clinic late.
It was after a Thursday night that they finally turned to each other for release. Rupert had been teasing Spike about the new barmaid and Spike had made a quip about Rupert being jealous.
They had both stopped in their tracks and stared at each other finally acknowledging the attraction.
Rupert had made the first move, closing the gap and kissing Spike lightly on the lips.
Spike had sighed softly and grabbed hold of his head stopping him from pulling back, and deepened the kiss.
It was not a teenage pulling off of clothes and making out like rabbits against a wall. The kiss ended and they carried on back to the cottage. Another kiss was exchanged in the hallway and then Rupert led Spike up to his bedroom.
Slowly Rupert undressed Spike skimming his hands over the smooth pale flesh as it was revealed. He had seen enough of the blond vampire to know he was beautiful, but being able to touch was a gift he had never imagined.
Spike stood passive as Rupert caressed his body only letting a moan escape when the older man licked the head of his cock and suckled the head.
Rupert sucked Spike’s cock with the same reverence that he had caressed the body. It was a skill he had developed over the years and particularly enjoyed performing.
Spike’s appreciation of his talent became more vocal until Rupert was unceremoniously pulled to his feet and tossed onto the bed.
Spike quickly stripped Rupert of his clothes, and returned the compliment with a leisurely exploration of his body that had him writhing with pleasure. Strong cool hands pinned him in place and surprisingly warm lips mapped his skin then took his aching cock deep with one swallow.
Rupert nearly came at the first suck. If he had still been standing he would have buckled at the knees. It had been a long time since his last lover, the urge had never gone away but he had accepted his self imposed isolation as penance for his actions.
Now a cool mouth sucked him deep and a long tongue caressed the back of his shaft. He had his hands tangled in surprisingly soft hair not to force anything but because he needed something to hold onto.
Spike moved back up his body kissing and nibbling on each piece of skin he came into contact with.
Lying fully on top of Rupert Spike kissed him again allowing their erections to push together without urgency.
The uncertainty between them was broken by Spike, “you got something?” he asked.
“In the bedside table,” Rupert nodded. He reached over and pulled out the lube that had been getting more use since Spike’s arrival than in the six months before.
Spike took the tube off him and slid back down his body nipping and kissing the skin on the way down.
Hands pushed his legs further apart and a tongue laved his balls. He tensed slightly when the first finger teased his entrance but relaxed as it merely stroked the puckered skin sending shivers of pleasure through his balls.
When it pushed inside he was relaxed enough that there was only a slight burn quickly replaced with the familiar feeling of fullness that would only increase.
Another finger was added slick with lube and he pushed back against them feeling them slide in deep. Spike’s tongue continued to lick around his balls and the base of his cock.
When both fingers twisted and pressed against his prostate he let a groan of pleasure escape to let the blond know he liked the sensation although he suspected that the amount of pre-cum slicking his cock was a good indicator.
A third finger was added and the sensation was almost overwhelming. When Spike moved up and swallowed his cock he was lost, and shot his load like a teenager. He could feel Spike chuckling around his still hard shaft the vibration almost painful in its pleasure.
Spike let his cock slip out and pushed his legs up to his chest leaving him exposed and not at all worried about the position.
The fingers were removed but the empty feeling was quickly replaced by the blunt head of Spike’s cock slipping inside the still relaxed hole.
Spike stopped moving allowing him to adjust, he had closed his eyes at some point and when he opened them he locked gazes with the blond who was watching him intently.
It felt strange to be the focus of those blue eyes, looking at him through him and into him. As he looked back he finally started to see hints of something in Spike’s gaze. Grief and sadness had settled in the blue permanently, but there was also desire and need and Rupert could not help but respond.
He had seen that look directed at others in the past and now understood how amazingly seductive it was to be the centre of that need, and how easy it would be to take advantage of it in his own grief.
Apparently some of his thoughts were evident in his eyes as the blue gaze shadowed and the emotions retreated. He didn’t want that to happen so he reached up to touch the soft lips and pulled Spike down for a long kiss trying to make the blond understand how much it meant to him.
Spike used the kiss to push further inside, and Rupert met his thrust seating him fully.
The moment was as close to perfect as Rupert’s life had been in a long time. Spike had filled the empty spaces better than Rupert had ever imagined the blond vampire could have.
They continued to kiss as Spike began to move smoothly inside him. Rupert’s hands spanned the thin waist, and moved in time with Spike’s thrusts.
Spike’s hands were braced on either side of Rupert’s body taking the weight, but Rupert wanted more contact and pulled closer hooking his legs around Spike.
It wasn’t completely comfortable but it felt too good to complain. Unlike times past with faceless men in dirty alleys this was someone he actually knew and had grown to care about.
This was someone who watched him with an intensity that should have been uncomfortable but instead made him feel safe, somebody who knew what he was capable of and didn’t care, someone who had no expectations but a sharing of need.
Spike was hitting his prostate with every stroke and if he had been any younger the new erection he was sporting would have been of some use, but it at least felt good.
He could feel that the blond was close as the thrusts sped up and the strain started to show on the sinewy arms.
It should have felt wrong to be flooded with cold dead seed, but it felt warm and sustaining which was a thought that would disturb him at any other time.
He kept his legs locked around Spike’s waist not letting the vampire pull away. They kissed again and Spike let some of his weight rest against Rupert’s chest.
It would have been easy to fall asleep like that and Rupert was tempted but he did not know if Spike would want that and he didn’t want to force anything.
A slight amount of awkwardness settled between them until Spike chuckled softly, “really could do with a fag about now,” he admitted.
“Why did you give up?” Rupert realised this might the only chance he had to ask.
“After I dug myself free I found the city had turned the alley into a bonfire to try and get rid of the corpses,” Spike’s eyes were distant, “I searched everywhere for anything to confirm what had happened to the others, dug through the ash till I was coated in it. It was in my clothes, my mouth, and under my fingernails before I realised that the others were probably part of the ash and then I couldn’t search anymore.” Rupert wanted to wipe the bleakness from Spike’s eyes but settled for hugging the small vampire tight.
“It took days to get clean,” Spike continued responding to the hug with one of his own.
Rupert let Spike roll off him enough to get comfortable, and pulled a blanket over them both.
“You want me to stay?” Spike asked at Rupert’s actions.
“If you wish to,” Rupert answered.
Spike nodded and let his head rest on the pillow next to Rupert.
Rupert didn’t know how long Spike would stay but he hoped it would be for a long time. Somehow this cottage in this small town with this strange pale vampire he was alive again.
He had a place now and people that didn’t expect any more of him than he could give. He had a home.
THE END
My final offering, a little less light than the others...
Grey Man
Author: Lilithangel
Email: abchainey@xtra.co.nz
Website: www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint
Genre: Angst/comfort slash
Fandom: AtS/BtVS
Characters: Spike/Giles
Warnings/Ratings: Adult rating, contains male/male sexual situations
Disclaimer: not mine, no money, don’t sue
Summary: Set after the end of Chosen and Not Fade Away. Giles has left the Watchers Council and lost touch with everyone. He has settled into small town life but the legacy of his choices still haunts him. One day his past comes back.
It was a small country pub patronised by a mixture of locals and incomers who had passed the test of not being too brash or wanting to change things. People like him who had arrived one day, and simply sat with a drink and listened.
When you started really listening the conversations ranged from politics and literature to feed options. These folk had seen a lot in their lives and had ridden the worst of it out. People did not look too deep into the past of incomers so long as they gave the same courtesy.
Thursday night had become a jam night at some point and he finally started bringing his guitar along and joining in. He had been welcomed with a nod and a space made for him in the circle.
Slowly he had started to feel the twisted knots of his psyche begin to relax, and his mind was able to look back on his past without flinching.
* * * * *
He had returned to England after Sunnydale fell, and took up the responsibility of restoring the Council as expected because it had to be done and he always did what had to be done.
He watched his children start to rebuild their lives and make a place for themselves. He watched his slayer pretend to have the normal life she had always wanted and then start dating another with darkness inside to match her own.
And it felt like his own life had been put into a holding pattern, ignored because he once again had a job to do that was more important than he was.
So he continued to do it, making the hard decisions for the good of the council and the slayers, all of whom were his responsibility now. Those decisions seemed to get darker and harsher as the months went on, and he lost a little bit more of himself each time.
He escaped when he could to small out of the way bars to lose his responsibility in a bottle for a few hours, but it was never enough. He ended the relationship with Olivia when he found he could spend himself in her body without even noticing it had happened.
He found temporary solace in the embrace of other empty-eyed men who haunted the same bars as he did, but it was only temporary and no more satisfying the next morning than the booze he had knocked back.
When reports started to filter back about events in L.A he found he had to face his slayer and tell her he had once again kept things from her. No matter that she was normally complicit in the secrets, not wanting to know anything that complicated her role. No matter that she had made it his role to make the hard decisions and carry them out when she couldn’t.
What mattered was that he had interfered with her relationships again and this time left her without the time to make up for it. Nothing was left of the Wolfram & Hart building and nothing could be found of Angel or his team.
The things said the accusations hurled had removed any last desire he had to be a part of things anymore. He had mourned Wesley’s loss and Cordelia’s and even Spike and Angel in a way. But it did not matter in the face of her grief.
So he had finished up his affairs at the Council, groomed a successor and then handed in his resignation.
This time he had not just left, he had contacted each of them in turn and said goodbye. But this time he had not let them know where he was going and nobody had asked.
He had returned to the places of his childhood memories trying to capture the sense of rightness and peace he had held then. All he had found was grey sad places overtaken by the modern world.
Then he wandered into a small town and stopped at a pub. The patrons watched him when he entered but with open curious gazes rather than the hostility he expected in such places.
He stayed for a week and then another finally finding a small cottage with a bit of land for rent, and he stayed.
They welcomed him to the town with simple nods of the head and conversation. He got an account at the local store and a library card for the surprisingly well stocked library.
There was nothing special about the town really except that it suited him perfectly.
He planted a garden and found pleasure in getting his hands dirty rather than worrying about cleanliness. He adopted some animals without having to worry about having to leave them when he was summoned away because he was never summoned anywhere now.
It was a quiet and calm existence and it was just about enough to keep him with the living.
* * * * *
He relaxed into the music as he always did losing himself in the pleasure of harmony and rhythm.
A couple of the locals had more than passable voices, nothing spectacular but enough to complement the musicians and lift the songs higher. So it was a surprise to hear a better than average voice join in. Smoky and bluesy the voice filled the room without being loud joining with the others and raising the level of everyone’s voices.
It was also a somewhat familiar voice that he was not prepared to recognise while the music still soared.
When it ended everyone smiled and a few newcomers clapped before they realised that was not why they performed or why people listened.
Everyone broke for a drink and Rupert went up to the bar to see if the voice would come to him.
Money was dropped on the bar in front of him and a familiar voice ordered a drink.
“Spike,” Rupert turned to face a piece of his past. Gone was the trade mark jacket and gone was the bleached blond hair. Instead he was faced with dirty blond hair still with gel, but not so harshly slicked back, framing the familiar high cheekbones and ancient blue eyes. He looked older somehow but still as pale as before.
“Rupert,” Spike nodded in greeting, “didn’t think to see anyone I knew around here.”
“Do you want to sit?” Rupert asked indicating with a jerk of his head the table where his guitar rested.
“Sure,” Spike nodded.
They made their way through the bar Spike accepting compliments on his singing with small smiles.
They sat at the table and drank in silence. Rupert didn’t know what he should say, what he could say. I heard you were dead again? Seemed rather moot. I’m glad you’re not dust… he wasn’t sure it would be believed or appreciated.
Spike did not seem inclined to break the silence nor did he fidget in the manner Rupert expected of him.
“What happened?” Rupert was finally compelled to ask.
“Everybody’s gone,” Spike answered, “I spent two days under the corpse of a dragon waiting for the authorities to clean up the mess, and then I left.”
Rupert knew there was a lot more to the story than that but was unable to ask the questions, not feeling like it was his place to know.
“How did you end up here?” he asked.
“How did you?” Spike retaliated.
“A lucky accident,” Rupert answered honestly and Spike nodded his agreement, “are you going to stay?” he added.
“Don’t know,” Spike’s eyes scanned the room absorbing the atmosphere, “need to find a job, this place doesn’t look like it suffers from an unemployment problem.”
Rupert raised an eyebrow at the comment; a job was the last thing he expected Spike to be looking for but he let it go as inconsequential for the moment.
“Do you have a place to stay?” he found himself asking.
Spike looked at him hard at the question, whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, and he shook his head.
“You are welcome to stay with me,” Rupert suggested suddenly craving the company of someone who knew what it had been like.
Spike nodded his thanks, and they continued to drink in silence.
The music started up again before the quiet between them became too uncomfortable, and they spent the rest of the evening mixing with the other patrons singing and playing until the early hours.
They left the bar in silence Rupert carrying his guitar and Spike lugging a duffel bag. Rupert led the way to his cottage it was at the outskirts of the town, but he preferred to walk and Spike made no demur about the distance.
“Come in Spike,” Rupert invited the vampire before he could hit the barrier.
Spike looked around as he followed Rupert into the small cluttered living room.
“I can only offer the couch,” Rupert apologised as he cleared the papers and books from the seat, “the spare room is full of boxes and doesn’t actually have a bed.”
“S’all right,” Spike half smiled, “not the bathtub at least.”
Rupert fetched sheets and blankets for the couch as he remembered the last time the vampire had been a guest of his.
“I’ll say goodnight,” Rupert stood at the doorway, “I get up early to feed the animals but I will try not to wake you,” he explained, “there is food in the fridge if you get hungry, I will attempt to arrange some blood for you tomorrow.”
“Thanks Rupes you don’t have to go to any bother,” Spike said.
“It’s not a bother,” Rupert denied, “Spike I’m glad you are still with us,” he said softly as he left and he meant it.
For the first time in months Rupert thought about things in his past again and the shame came flooding back. The choices he made had been the only ones he could see at the time, and he had forced himself not to regret them. But seeing Spike again brought them to the surface and he did regret what had happened.
He had become a killer the day he took Ben’s life to stop Glory returning, and from then on the decisions to sacrifice others to the greater good had become much easier.
He had faced that choice when he had helped Robin try to dust Spike in Sunnydale and Buffy had confronted him. He had not felt guilt then like he had after the events in L.A, but he had still believed it had been necessary.
Now, after looking into eyes that had obviously seen the results of his choices he couldn’t hide behind that anymore. He went to bed feeling closer to the dead man he had become before arriving in the town he now called home.
* * * * *
Rupert came down the stairs quietly to go and feed his menagerie. He looked into the living room and saw Spike was still asleep. The blankets had slipped off him during the night, and Rupert was able to see the evidence of the battle clearly on the pale flesh.
Although it had been months since the battle in L.A Spike’s torso was still criss-crossed with scars and puncture marks revealing how badly things had gone.
In the morning’s half light he watched the vampire move restlessly apparently dreaming and not pleasantly.
Concerned Rupert moved over to the couch. Spike’s face was contorted with pain and his fists were clenched tight. His movements threatened to open the still healing wounds and Rupert felt bound to act.
“Spike,” Rupert reached out to shake the vampire awake.
Preternatural reflexes grabbed his hand before he could touch Spike and pulled him onto his knees. The blue eyes were clouded with nightmares, but Spike did no more than hold him in place while comprehension returned.
Rupert stayed still and did not fight the hold waiting patiently for awareness to appear in the blue eyes.
“What the bloody hell?” Spike asked of the man.
“You were dreaming,” Rupert explained, “it didn’t look like a good one.”
“It wasn’t,” was all Spike would say as he reached for his discarded jeans and then stopped.
“I have to feed the animals,” Rupert explained, “I want you to go upstairs and rest on my bed those wounds of yours need something better than this couch,” he said, “I will fetch some blood for you.”
Spike stared hard at Rupert and then nodded. Carefully he sat up on the couch and stood up pulling a sheet around his waist, “you mentioned animals last night, never pictured you as the farmer type.”
“Nothing that bad,” Rupert blushed, “just a couple of goats, a cow and two donkeys.”
Spike smirked at his admission, “Farmer Giles, it suits you.”
Rupert rolled his eyes at the teasing but felt marginally better for the brief return to their old relationship.
Spike’s grab for his jeans and vague hand movements made Rupert realise that he had not seen the vampire with a cigarette since he arrived.
“Have you given up smoking?” he asked Spike.
“Taste like ashes now,” Spike explained briefly as he made his weary way up the stairs.
Rupert watched him climb and resolved to learn what the cryptic statement meant later.
* * * * *
The animals were pleased to see him and more pleased to see the feed bucket. The routine calmed and helped centre him.
It was surprisingly easy to get a supply of blood without any question. The butcher had simply asked him how much he needed and if he wanted more he just had to ring.
There was none of the usual knowledge in the butcher’s eyes, and Rupert had to conclude that he was simply providing a customer service without any arcane knowledge involved.
Spike was awake and dressed when he returned with the blood looking marginally better for sleep.
They sat in the living room, Rupert nursing a coffee and Spike a mug of warmed blood.
Once again Rupert was struck by the unnatural stillness of the usually hyperactive vampire. A lot had changed for both of them over time, and Rupert had an idea that much of what had changed for Spike was not for the good.
“You don’t work then?” Spike finally broke the silence.
“I tutor at the local school a couple of mornings a week but otherwise I don’t need to work,” Rupert explained.
“What do you do with your time then?” Spike was curious.
“Read, look after the animals, tend my garden,” Rupert listed.
“Bit of a change for you then,” Spike didn’t seem surprised.
“I suppose so,” Rupert acknowledged noncommittally, “what about you Spike?”
“Do what needs to be done, not fussy really,” the shadows were back in Spike’s eyes, and Rupert knew the things Spike had done had hurt him.
“The publican from the bar last night mentioned the Bed and Breakfast down the road is looking for someone to cover evenings for a month or two. They have a new baby and want to spend some time together,” Rupert suggested, “it wouldn’t be glamorous work, but I know the owners and could put a word in for you. If you wanted to stay.”
Spike looked thoughtful and then nodded, “if you wouldn’t mind I would be grateful. Meet and greet answer the phone, could handle that.”
Rupert was struck again by the incongruity of the situation, talking about domestic matters with a vampire that he had tried to kill who would have happily fed off him if not for a piece of metal and plastic.
There was a lot of history between them that needed to be discussed but he was loath to upset the veneer of civility between them.
* * * * *
Spike met with the young couple at the bed and breakfast and won them over with the charm he had never lost.
Things settled into a strange routine after that. Spike remained sleeping on the couch, Rupert gave him a key to get into the cottage and Spike filled the cupboards with supplies, and one shelf in the fridge was given over to containers of blood happily supplied by the local butcher.
Spike would eat dinner with Rupert and then head out to work. As often as not by the time he returned Rupert was fast asleep.
Rupert would move silently through the cottage in the mornings to feed the animals and make himself breakfast. Spike would wake around lunchtime, and if Rupert was around they would share the newspaper and watch some television.
Conversation was civil and spanned a whole range of topics. Spike was still addicted to daytime soaps and Rupert was dragged back into them without realising it.
Occasionally there would be a flash of the old Spike and Rupert found he welcomed them.
Spike still had nightmares and Rupert watched over him until they were over, but he never approached the shaking vampire until clarity returned.
When the couple found out Spike had sung at the bar they insisted he have Thursdays off to join everyone and he became part of the regular event. Rupert would take his guitar and they would have a pub meal before joining the tables at the end of the room.
Spike would smile and flirt with the barmaids but he never left with anyone. Rupert contented himself with the occasional night time wank and assumed Spike did the same.
Spike’s injuries finally healed and he started to fill out much to Rupert’s relief.
One night Rupert went into the spare room and pulled out all the boxes stored in there and started to sort them out. Spike arrived home to find him surrounded by the remainders of his time in Sunnydale half way through a bottle of whiskey.
Wordlessly Spike sat down and started to help snagging the whiskey out of Rupert’s lax fingers first.
“What happened?” Spike finally asked and Rupert knew he wasn’t talking about just the boxes.
“I made decisions; at the time I thought they were the right ones. I found myself turning into the very thing I despised most. So I left, they did not ask me to stay this time,” it seemed like very few words to describe everything that he had done, but summed it up nicely.
“Some of them were right,” Spike replied, “some sucked. It wouldn’t have made a difference but it might have meant we had company on the way to hell.”
“What happened?” Rupert asked for the first time.
“Angel made some decisions he thought they were the right ones too. We took on the big boys and lost. As far as I know I was the last man standing in the end, couldn’t find the others. I left, been wandering ever since.” It wasn’t many words to sum up what had obviously happened but Rupert understood.
“I’m sorry,” it was a small thing but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“So am I,” Spike answered taking another drink from the bottle.
“Did you…” he hesitated to ask the blond but had to know, “have you seen anyone else?”
“Buffy?” Spike knew what he meant, “went there first thought maybe if anyone else had made it out they might have gone there.”
Rupert knew that only one person would have possibly gone to Buffy if they had survived, and it was a telling admission.
“We said what had to be said, which wasn’t much in the end,” Spike continued, “didn’t feel any need to see any of the others so I left.”
Rupert imagined in the end the parting was somewhat similar to his own and couldn’t think of anything to say.
They emptied the boxes, and Rupert finally put away the remnants of his past and it felt good to watch it go.
A new bed was delivered and Spike moved in with little fuss and they continued on as before.
People in town began to talk about them as if they were a couple and neither did anything to disabuse the notion.
When the job at the Bed and Breakfast ended Spike was approached by the local health clinic to man the evening desk at the A&E ward. His need for night work was never questioned, they were just happy to have someone willing to do the late shift. From that he managed to acquire old blood without questions and for the first time truly began to look healthy.
Rupert had forgotten what it was like to have company on a regular basis and began to miss Spike when emergencies kept him at the clinic late.
It was after a Thursday night that they finally turned to each other for release. Rupert had been teasing Spike about the new barmaid and Spike had made a quip about Rupert being jealous.
They had both stopped in their tracks and stared at each other finally acknowledging the attraction.
Rupert had made the first move, closing the gap and kissing Spike lightly on the lips.
Spike had sighed softly and grabbed hold of his head stopping him from pulling back, and deepened the kiss.
It was not a teenage pulling off of clothes and making out like rabbits against a wall. The kiss ended and they carried on back to the cottage. Another kiss was exchanged in the hallway and then Rupert led Spike up to his bedroom.
Slowly Rupert undressed Spike skimming his hands over the smooth pale flesh as it was revealed. He had seen enough of the blond vampire to know he was beautiful, but being able to touch was a gift he had never imagined.
Spike stood passive as Rupert caressed his body only letting a moan escape when the older man licked the head of his cock and suckled the head.
Rupert sucked Spike’s cock with the same reverence that he had caressed the body. It was a skill he had developed over the years and particularly enjoyed performing.
Spike’s appreciation of his talent became more vocal until Rupert was unceremoniously pulled to his feet and tossed onto the bed.
Spike quickly stripped Rupert of his clothes, and returned the compliment with a leisurely exploration of his body that had him writhing with pleasure. Strong cool hands pinned him in place and surprisingly warm lips mapped his skin then took his aching cock deep with one swallow.
Rupert nearly came at the first suck. If he had still been standing he would have buckled at the knees. It had been a long time since his last lover, the urge had never gone away but he had accepted his self imposed isolation as penance for his actions.
Now a cool mouth sucked him deep and a long tongue caressed the back of his shaft. He had his hands tangled in surprisingly soft hair not to force anything but because he needed something to hold onto.
Spike moved back up his body kissing and nibbling on each piece of skin he came into contact with.
Lying fully on top of Rupert Spike kissed him again allowing their erections to push together without urgency.
The uncertainty between them was broken by Spike, “you got something?” he asked.
“In the bedside table,” Rupert nodded. He reached over and pulled out the lube that had been getting more use since Spike’s arrival than in the six months before.
Spike took the tube off him and slid back down his body nipping and kissing the skin on the way down.
Hands pushed his legs further apart and a tongue laved his balls. He tensed slightly when the first finger teased his entrance but relaxed as it merely stroked the puckered skin sending shivers of pleasure through his balls.
When it pushed inside he was relaxed enough that there was only a slight burn quickly replaced with the familiar feeling of fullness that would only increase.
Another finger was added slick with lube and he pushed back against them feeling them slide in deep. Spike’s tongue continued to lick around his balls and the base of his cock.
When both fingers twisted and pressed against his prostate he let a groan of pleasure escape to let the blond know he liked the sensation although he suspected that the amount of pre-cum slicking his cock was a good indicator.
A third finger was added and the sensation was almost overwhelming. When Spike moved up and swallowed his cock he was lost, and shot his load like a teenager. He could feel Spike chuckling around his still hard shaft the vibration almost painful in its pleasure.
Spike let his cock slip out and pushed his legs up to his chest leaving him exposed and not at all worried about the position.
The fingers were removed but the empty feeling was quickly replaced by the blunt head of Spike’s cock slipping inside the still relaxed hole.
Spike stopped moving allowing him to adjust, he had closed his eyes at some point and when he opened them he locked gazes with the blond who was watching him intently.
It felt strange to be the focus of those blue eyes, looking at him through him and into him. As he looked back he finally started to see hints of something in Spike’s gaze. Grief and sadness had settled in the blue permanently, but there was also desire and need and Rupert could not help but respond.
He had seen that look directed at others in the past and now understood how amazingly seductive it was to be the centre of that need, and how easy it would be to take advantage of it in his own grief.
Apparently some of his thoughts were evident in his eyes as the blue gaze shadowed and the emotions retreated. He didn’t want that to happen so he reached up to touch the soft lips and pulled Spike down for a long kiss trying to make the blond understand how much it meant to him.
Spike used the kiss to push further inside, and Rupert met his thrust seating him fully.
The moment was as close to perfect as Rupert’s life had been in a long time. Spike had filled the empty spaces better than Rupert had ever imagined the blond vampire could have.
They continued to kiss as Spike began to move smoothly inside him. Rupert’s hands spanned the thin waist, and moved in time with Spike’s thrusts.
Spike’s hands were braced on either side of Rupert’s body taking the weight, but Rupert wanted more contact and pulled closer hooking his legs around Spike.
It wasn’t completely comfortable but it felt too good to complain. Unlike times past with faceless men in dirty alleys this was someone he actually knew and had grown to care about.
This was someone who watched him with an intensity that should have been uncomfortable but instead made him feel safe, somebody who knew what he was capable of and didn’t care, someone who had no expectations but a sharing of need.
Spike was hitting his prostate with every stroke and if he had been any younger the new erection he was sporting would have been of some use, but it at least felt good.
He could feel that the blond was close as the thrusts sped up and the strain started to show on the sinewy arms.
It should have felt wrong to be flooded with cold dead seed, but it felt warm and sustaining which was a thought that would disturb him at any other time.
He kept his legs locked around Spike’s waist not letting the vampire pull away. They kissed again and Spike let some of his weight rest against Rupert’s chest.
It would have been easy to fall asleep like that and Rupert was tempted but he did not know if Spike would want that and he didn’t want to force anything.
A slight amount of awkwardness settled between them until Spike chuckled softly, “really could do with a fag about now,” he admitted.
“Why did you give up?” Rupert realised this might the only chance he had to ask.
“After I dug myself free I found the city had turned the alley into a bonfire to try and get rid of the corpses,” Spike’s eyes were distant, “I searched everywhere for anything to confirm what had happened to the others, dug through the ash till I was coated in it. It was in my clothes, my mouth, and under my fingernails before I realised that the others were probably part of the ash and then I couldn’t search anymore.” Rupert wanted to wipe the bleakness from Spike’s eyes but settled for hugging the small vampire tight.
“It took days to get clean,” Spike continued responding to the hug with one of his own.
Rupert let Spike roll off him enough to get comfortable, and pulled a blanket over them both.
“You want me to stay?” Spike asked at Rupert’s actions.
“If you wish to,” Rupert answered.
Spike nodded and let his head rest on the pillow next to Rupert.
Rupert didn’t know how long Spike would stay but he hoped it would be for a long time. Somehow this cottage in this small town with this strange pale vampire he was alive again.
He had a place now and people that didn’t expect any more of him than he could give. He had a home.
THE END
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I have a soft spot for this pairing,
glad you enjoyed it.