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| Home | Spike/Giles |

Chapter 11

Spike grinned and, still holding Giles' arm to help him in the dark, led the way over the rough grass. Giles looked around with a worried expression. 'I don't think we should be here like this.'

'I'm positive we shouldn't be 'ere like this. Good, hey?'

'No! What if we get arrested?'

'Oh, fuck off, Giles, live a little. I'm a bleedin' vampire, and you're a… a… well, you're into all this demonic crap; so, who's got more right to be 'ere?'

'Demonic? I'm not with you.'

'Yeah, like this was built by Druids.' Spike let this lie between them as they arrived in the ring of huge stones. He let Giles go and wandered off on his own, staring up at the white, cold surfaces. Giles, almost completely sober now, stood back a little, awed at the sense of being in this place with Spike. He tired to see the blond hair but had lost him in the dark. Finally, he ventured into the ring himself and saw Spike perched on the top of one of the larger stones.

'Get off! This is a National Heritage site!'

Spike's peeling laughter rang out around the eerily still night. Giles began to shiver and realised he was only dressed in his sport's jacket. He wrapped it tightly to him and hissed, 'Come on. Let's go.'

Spike jumped off the stone and, for one brief moment, as his coat flared behind him, it seemed to Giles as if the vampire was in slow motion, as if he… flew down, but he shook off this oddly disturbing thought and put it down to bad beer.

He began to make his way out of the site when he was captured from behind, and arms that almost felt warm in contrast to the night, wrapped around him. 'Bend over.'


'Over that fallen stone, there.'

'I most certainly will not.'

Spike didn't take no for an answer. He undid Giles' trousers and ripped them down to his knees. He pushed Giles into the position he wanted and, undoing his own jeans, took his erection in his hand. 'I was gonna wait, like, 'til tonight, but it's the power of this place.' He spoke seriously, almost reverently. 'I 'ave to. 'S ordered.' Giles stilled, as he felt the vampire's awe.

'What do you….'

'Shh. Don't speak, mate; they'll 'ear ya.'

Giles looked anxiously around but, at that moment, Spike opened him up with a curious finger. He groaned at the intrusion and stretched his legs wider. Spike pushed him over the fallen stone and played with the hole for a while, watching the effect of his pale finger disappearing in the shadows from the moonlight. When he felt the human was ready, he began to work his penis into the hole, easing it in on spit and blood, which he drew from a slight wound in his wrist. As he pushed in, the human began to protest again, so he murmured, 'Hope they don't smell the blood, mate. Should 'ave thought about that.'

Once again, Giles stilled and began to look anxiously around him but, suddenly, Spike was in, and all he could think about then was the feel of that thick shaft filling him. He just needed to push out and squeeze his muscles, and he knew Spike would enjoy both these, so he heaved back and felt Spike pushing in against him, heard the vampire groaning his pleasure. Then he squeezed down, and Spike hissed. Suddenly, a hand was clamped onto the back of his neck, and Giles was pummelled by the vampire, as he brought himself to orgasm. Giles fell spread-eagled onto the rock, helpless to this onslaught. He felt a wash of fluid inside and heard a sharp cry, 'Oh! Yeah!' as the vampire emptied into the soft, warm rectum.

Spike stood up, using Giles for support, and zipped up his jeans. Giles stood shakily and looked around. 'So… do you still feel it?'

'What, pet?'

'Whatever it was, driving you to do… that?'

Spike giggled and backed off out of reach. 'Yeah. Like… duh, Giles. Got a bloody good shag though. Always wanted to do it 'ere.'

Giles lunged but missed Spike by a very long way, as the vampire shifted in the moonlight. Giles broke into a run but hadn't gone far, before he stumbled in the dark and fell in the damp, muddy lane. Spike, walking backward, watched him climb to his feet. 'Come on, pet, don't tell me you didn't get off on that.'

'Come here.'

'Why? What ya gonna do?'

'Come here and find out.'

'Now, pet. You know you love me. Saw it in yer eyes, back there in the pub.'

Giles stopped and tipped his head on one side. Spike was a vague figure, only his blond hair reflecting in the moonlight giving away his position. 'Come here.'

They both knew the words were the same but the intent now entirely different. Spike materialised at his side, and Giles took the cold face in his hands. He brought Spike slowly to him and, in the moonlight, they kissed deeply, their tongues seeking to affirm the truth behind the games. Spike groaned into the kiss and ran his hands through Giles' hair. Giles slid his hands up inside Spike's T-shirt and over the smooth skin.

Suddenly, they were blinded by a bright light. Spike swore and pulled Giles to one side, as a car made its way down the lane. It pulled over just in front of them, and the creaky window was wound down. 'Bloody sodomites! Rather 'ave the fucking travellers. Sod off!'

Giles burst out laughing; the landlord swore once more and drove off. Spike looked at Giles' face and began to laugh, too, and Giles pulled him back for one more swift kiss, before saying ruefully, 'Shall we sod off?'

Spike nodded and began to walk slowly back down the lane toward the pub. 'Don't that bother you?'

Giles put a hand on Spike's shoulder. 'I won't ever see him again; why should it?'

'Huh. In general then.'

'What? Being called that? I don't know. I don't take much notice of anything the likes of someone like that says. He's ignorance personified.'

'No. I mean, not him specifically, but what he saw; what he said.'

'No. I'm trying to say no. I don't.'

'So, you're gonna tell yer folks then. You're gonna tell 'bout us now.'

'Oh. Well, no, I'm not. That's entirely different.'

'Ah, thought it might be.'

'Come on, Spike. Would you go to LA and tell Angel about us? Ah, I thought not.' Spike looked annoyed.

'That's different.'


'Oh, bugger off.'

'I think I just did.'

Spike gave him a small play slap and reached out a hand for the keys.

Giles refused. 'I'm quite sober enough to drive.'

Spike shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat, lighting a cigarette. Giles shifted the seat and pulled out of the car park. He wriggled slightly on the leather, and Spike gave him a small sideward glance. 'Okay there?'

Giles pursed his lips. 'Besides muddy shoes and trousers, and a rather aching bottom? Quite.'

'Good, cus I still mean to 'ave you tonight. When we get there.'

'Oh God, maybe I'd better drive slowly then.'

'Whatever, I'm gonna 'ave a kip. Wake me when we get there.'

Giles turned on the radio and listened with pleasure to the soft, educated voices. He didn't take it slowly; they still had a long way to go. He made their way back to the M5 and went immediately out to the outer lane, which by now was empty. He took the car up to over a hundred, briefly thinking about his licence, but then relaxed back to the sound of the radio, and the sense of Spike asleep next to him. For all his sparring with the vampire, he knew that he was utterly lost to that sleeping figure, and that the obsession he felt for Spike was only growing by the hour.

Familiar landmarks began to appear, and he swung off the motorway, taking the quieter country lanes he knew so well. A car came toward them with its lights on full beam, and Giles' soft cursing woke Spike. He rubbed his hands through his hair and sat up, 'Bloody hell, we there yet?'


Spike looked around at the dense woods and the tiny lane. 'Fuckin' hell. This is takin' hidin' me a bit serious, ain't it?'

Giles chuckled. 'Maybe.'

Finally, Giles pulled in at a small cottage built of grey stone, which was tucked behind one of a pair of large rusty gates. Spike eyed it silently and said rather flatly, 'Nice.'

Giles didn't comment, but put the car into gear and eased past the half-closed gates. As he went cautiously down an overgrown drive, he said casually, 'That was the gatehouse, Spike.'

Spike turned sideward in the car and lit a cigarette. He didn't watch the drive but watched Giles' face carefully. When Giles stopped the car, Spike saw a number of emotions flick across the watcher's face, and only then did he turn to see where they were. 'Fucking hell!'

Spike climbed slowly out of the car and looked at the house, which stood on a slight rise behind an ornamental lake. His jaw threatened to destroy his streetcred, so he clamped it tightly shut. The house was in a horseshoe shape, one wing clearly much older than the rest, possibly Tudor. The rest of the house was newer, Georgian architecture evident in its lines. Giles got out, too, and watched Spike.

Eventually, Spike ground out his cigarette on the gravel and said, amused, 'So, you got any brothers or sisters then?'

Giles laughed out loud. 'No.'

'Uh huh.' Spike turned to him in the moonlight. 'Did I tell you how much I admire and respect you?'

Giles stretched out a hand and Spike took it, twisting his fingers through Giles' in an affectionate way.

'So, I've become attractive in proportion to the size of my house, have I?'

Spike turned back once more to the imposing residence and just breathed softly, 'Oh, yeah.'

'Come on, you mercenary vampire. Let's go.'

Although it was past four, there were a few lights on in the lower rooms. Giles groaned. 'They waited up. I told them not to.'

Spike was unnaturally silent, as they drove down past the lake and pulled up at the large front doors. Giles climbed out. 'Leave the bags; we won't need them tonight; I'll get them tomorrow.'

Spike nodded but hung back, looking around at the dark building that towered over him. Giles put an arm over his shoulder. 'It'll be light soon; it'll look different then.'

'Not to me. I'll be asleep.'

Giles pushed open the door, and Spike followed him into the large hall. It was gloomy and cold, despite the embers of a fire in a vast fireplace to one side. Giles gave Spike a glance then went toward a door to one side. It opened into a sitting room, which was only slightly warmer and slightly less gloomy. Spike trailed after him and started when two figures rose out of the gloom to meet them. He hung back and watched a stick-thin, elegant, if slightly shabby elderly women come towards Giles. She put a paper-thin hand to his face, 'Rupert. Here at last. You are very late.'

'Yes. Sorry, Mother. We got delayed. Accident.'

'Ah. We wondered.'

The effusive greeting for her only child over, she sat down again. Giles went toward the other figure and tentatively put out his hand. 'Father.'

'Rupert.' The old man sat as well, and Spike wondered if the greeting had exhausted him. Giles turned to him. It was too gloomy in the room to read his expression, so Spike came forward into the light of the fire.

'Mother, this is the young man I told you about.'

She rose once more and offered Spike her hand. 'Welcome. Rupert told me he was bringing a work colleague. I had expected someone quite different.'


'Sorry, and you are…?'

Giles was about to introduce him, but Spike interrupted swiftly. 'William. My name is William.'

'Oh, you are English, how nice. I had thought you might be American, and we rather feared even Californian.'

Giles turned toward the fire and made some comment about the cold. His mother sat back down and folded her hands precisely in her lap. 'Was it warm when you left?'

Spike watched from one to the other as they discussed the weather, both in England and in California, in minute detail. He listened to see if he could hear some sort of private code in this: that the mother was really asking her son if he was well, if he was happy, if he missed her, and if Giles was asking his mother if she loved him, but he could hear nothing but banal comments on the bloody rain or lack of it. Eventually, unasked, he sat on a hard, shabby couch and looked around. The room was too large and too dark to see the far walls, but he could make out heavy drapes over long windows and various doors to other rooms. He sighed and lit a cigarette, until the silence that greeted this act made him look up. Giles went swiftly over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head a little. Spike gave him an inscrutable look but stubbed it out on his boot. Notice drawn to him, the mother looked him over from head to toe and said politely, 'So, William, where do your family come from?'


'Ah. What does your father do?'

'He's dead.'

'Oh, I am sorry. How ghastly for your mother.'

'She's dead, too.'

'Goodness. How unfortunate for you. Do you have brothers or sisters?'


'Dear me. Henry, did you hear?'

Spike glanced over at the old man and noticed, for the first time, that he was wearing a dog collar. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, amused, 'A vicar?'

Giles' mother looked at him rather crossly. 'Did Rupert not tell you?'

'No, he didn't. Did you Rupert?'

Giles sat next to Spike and, as if putting a friendly, colleague-like arm on his shoulder, began to dig his fingers painfully into the back of Spike's neck. 'I'm sure I did, William, your memory is awful.'

Spike smiled sweetly at Giles' mother, despite the growing pain in his neck.

'So, William, tell me, what do you actually do?'


She frowned at him. 'Work?'

He retuned the frown. 'Same as Rupert, course.'

'Ah, and that is…?'

The pressure on his neck increased, so Spike stood up and went toward the window, feigning a yawn. Giles' mother immediately stood. 'Of course, you must both be exhausted. We can catch up in the morning. Rupert, you are in your usual room. I've put William in the blue room. Will you show him the way; I'm feeling a little tired, I must say.'

'I'm sorry we kept you up so late, Mother. Don't worry about us in the morning; we're both a little jet-lagged, and I don't know about err, William, but I intend to spend the morning in bed.'

Spike tried not to laugh and followed Giles out. They went up the sweeping staircase together, aware they were watched from below. As soon as they rounded the corner, Spike shoved Giles back into the wall and kissed him roughly. 'Don't worry 'bout it, mate, I still love ya.'


'Well, fucking hell, what sort of welcome was that?'

'It was perfectly normal; what do you mean?'

Spike stood back then shrugged and nodded toward the upper floors. 'So, where we sleepin', cus I'm shagged now.'

'I'll show you where you are.'

Spike smiled behind his back; he had no intension of sleeping anywhere else but curled into Giles' warm body, but he didn't tell the sad git that. The blue room was stone cold and even gloomier than the living room downstairs. Spike eyed the large bed and old furniture then said, 'I'll just come with you… see where you are like, case I need to find you.'

Giles nodded and made his way down the uneven hallway, up a flight of stairs and round some more twisting hallways. Eventually, he pushed open a door to a small suite that was well lit and had a dying fire in it. It was warm and inviting, and Giles sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, and pulling off his shoes. 'At last. I am SO tired.'

Spike shed his coat and pulled his T-shirt off.

'What are you doing?'

Spike didn't bother to reply, just continued to undress, until he was naked and pale in the flickering light from the fire. Giles watched the slow undressing with no further comment, clearly debating something. Finally, he got up, slid the bolt on the door firmly closed, returned to the bed, and opened his arms. Spike grinned and climbed in under the thick eiderdown, spreading out on the soft mattress. Giles groaned as he looked down at his own clothes and made a theatrical effort of getting up again.

Before he climbed in beside Spike, Giles took some more wood and carefully rebuilt the fire. When it began to catch to his satisfaction, he slid into the welcoming arms. He sighed deeply and folded his arms under his head, staring at the ceiling. Spike began to run a finger up and down the stretched skin on the inside of Giles' arm, as he knew the human loved.

'I used to look at that crack for hours, wishing it would widen and allow me to crawl into it.'

Spike glanced up at the offending crack and said, 'Not surprised.'

'Did you really think she was cold, or are you just trying to be annoying as usual?'

'Fuck, what'd I know, mate? I'm dead, and I've got no soul. Don't listen to me.'

'But I do. You know that. I've come to listen to you rather a lot recently, and I know neither your undead status nor your lack of a soul affect your uncanny knack of understanding human emotions.'

'I'm a wuss you mean?'

Giles chuckled and wrapped the arms tighter around him. He turned to face Spike. 'I am so very glad you are here.'

Spike returned the amused look and raised his eyebrow. 'So am I. So, who you gonna leave all this to in yer will like… cus if you need….'

The kiss silenced him, and they fell asleep: Giles dreaming that a small childhood crack had at last opened up and let him fall through, and that the falling was surprisingly cool and surprisingly tight around him.

He woke when a small knock sounded at the door. Spike opened a bleary eye, cursed, but obediently allowed the covers to be dragged over him. Giles shrugged on an old robe and opened the door a crack. 'Margaret!' His surprised delight was utterly genuine, and he embraced the old housekeeper lightly. She chuckled and pushed him off.

'Look at you! You're all skin and bone, and look at that skin! You are as brown as a berry. And did you sleep well? I didn't want to wake you but then I thought, Margaret, you've not seen your boy for over three years: he won't mind you just this once. Now, dear, can I bring you some breakfast? You must be starving. I left you out a little something last night, but your mother, bless her, forgot to tell you, and where is your little friend? I could have sworn your mother, bless her, said he was in the blue room, but that's not been touched. I must be getting old but, my, it's so good to see you, and don't you look handsome? And, well, oh California must be wonderful, and wouldn't I like to go there one day but, here now, I'm a silly old woman rattlin' on like this when you just want to go back to that lovely warm bed. Well, we'll forget breakfast, but I shall made you a proper lunch, and you come down and enjoy it, and bring your little friend with you, if you can find him. What's that noise now? Sounds like someone giggling; I'm a silly old woman; I'll be hearing ghosts next. Now, lover, don't stand there getting cold, get back to bed, and Margaret'll do you a nice bit of lunch. Oh, but its so good to have you home; don't go away again, will you?' She kissed him once again and bustled away.

Giles retuned to the shaking lump in the bed and extracted it from the covers. Spike wiped the tears from his eyes, and pulled Giles to him. 'Ah, lover, it's so good to have you back in the bed with me.'

'Shut up, Spike.' He extracted himself and went back to stand by the door.

Spike sat up. 'Hey! I was only fucking around. What's wrong.'

Giles smiled shyly. 'Nothing. Nothing at all. I just want to do this more slowly.'

Spike frowned. 'Do what?'

'Come back to bed with you.' Giles began to come forward, shedding the robe as he did so.

'Oh, you old poof, come here will you?'

Giles climbed onto the bed and pulled Spike to him and, naked, warm, and pliant from sleep, they kissed deeply for the first time in this place.

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