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Chapter 5

Spike smiled. He liked a challenge.

He waited just the right amount of time. He waited until the breathing next to him became slower, deeper. He waited until the tense aura around the human dissipated, and then he turned over and draped his arm over the watcher's bare torso, fanning his fingers out on the smooth chest, and pinning the body to his.

Giles had nowhere to go, except to fall off the edge of the bed. He lay rigid for a while, every nerve alive to the vampire that seemed to press against every inch of his body. He assumed that Spike was asleep, that he had turned over in sleep and automatically thrown his arm over. As long as it meant nothing more - nothing that could threaten him - Giles was content to accept this odd sleeping arrangement. He even rolled fractionally back, closer to Spike, and was met by a face being pushed and nuzzled against his ribs. Almost automatically, he lifted his arm and - through no conscious effort of his - found himself embracing a blond vampire for the rest of the night.

Giles lay rigid and stiff, sure he would not sleep. He was somewhat disconcerted, therefore, to wake at all, even more so when he discovered that, sometime during the night, they had sort of merged with each other. He was lying on Spike's silent, still chest. For some odd reason, he had one hand down the front of the vampire's jeans, the other, tangled up in his blond hair. As Giles had no idea why any of this was so, he thought he'd better not move until he'd worked it out.

He wondered idly if being this hard was dangerous for him.

He wondered, given what else seemed to be filling the front of Spike's pants, how there was any room for his hand at all.

The room slowly grew lighter and noise from the everyday world increased. Spike lay very still, and his body was silent, but he radiated more vitality than Giles would have believed possible. He wasn't really cold: borrowed, early morning heat flowed from him. He had a subtle scent, and Giles breathed deeply to try and identify it: tobacco, shampoo possibly, even chocolate, although he could not for the life of him think why the vampire should smell almost edible.

There were subtle movements that belied the essentially still body. The eyelids fluttered as if the demon dreamt and, further down, down where Giles' fingers lay meshed in darker, coarser hair, there was a significant twitching and vibrancy that spoke to a matching urgency in Giles.

Although Spike didn't breath, his body still sounded alive; a soft gurgle from his belly made Giles smile into the smooth skin.

The sun began to stream into the room through the window across from the bed. The beams passed harmlessly by the sleeping figure, but they still disturbed Giles.

He idly thought about them touching Spike and pictured the conflagration that he had witnessed in others happening to this slim body that he had come to know so well. This thought made him frown.

Then Spike turned his head in sleep and said distinctly, in a puzzled voice, 'I don't know.'

Giles didn't know either. He didn't know why that small, puzzled voice should lever open the locked trunk of his emotions, but it did. He screwed his eyes shut to the pain, desperately willing himself not to cry. Too many emotions, suppressed for too long, threatened to overwhelm him, and he knew this left him very, very vulnerable.

He didn't want to be hurt but, equally, he didn't want to pack them all away again and suffer the pain of that sterility.

Giles felt Spike waking, sensed a slow coming back to consciousness and, with that awakening, the realisation that they were lying together thus.

Giles hoped Spike wouldn't move, had a feeling he wouldn't, and was delighted when he didn't.


Giles lifted his head. Spike look oddly at him and repeated, 'Ow,' but added helpfully, 'me arm, wanker. You're lyin' on it.'

Giles thought it was curious that Spike hadn't mentioned the hand down his jeans first, and he frowned slightly in response. 'I thought you said you'd be all better in the morning?'

Spike stretched his arms up lazily, making his ribs stick out, 'Yeah well… I lied. I lie 'bout lots of things.'

Fear pounded at Giles. He wanted to crawl back into his watcher's neutrality. He didn't want to be raw like this. He edged hesitantly around what he really wanted to say. 'So… what now?'

Spike was watching Giles carefully, a small smile playing around his lips. Suddenly, he sat up, pulled free of Giles' hand and swung his legs off the bed. 'I'm goin', that's what.'

'To feed?'

Spike turned. 'Nah. Goin' away.'

Giles actually felt the prickling onset of nausea under his chin, but tried to keep his voice calm and his expression neutral. 'Going away?'

Spike grinned at something that he seemed to find amusing in this blank expression, and swung back onto the bed, folding his legs. He began to undo the bandage on his arm and, after a moment of useless struggle, gave up to Giles' offer of assistance. He watched the lowered, greying head and, after a suitable amount of suspense had built up, said, 'See… I'm all lovin' you and shit now, and you don't love me, so I've gotta go 'way - find meself like.' He chuckled at the audible sigh of relief from the human.

'The game….'

'Course, what did you think?'

Giles looked up briefly but, at this close quarter, could not mask his emotions enough, so went back to his task. 'You know bloody well what I thought, Spike.'

'Uh huh. And that bothered you, did it: the thought I might go 'way for real?'

'On the contrary; I was merely curious - and hopeful - as to how far you would actually go.' He knew he wasn't getting away with it - it sounded forced even to him, and he allowed a small smile to play around his lips. Spike tilted Giles' chin up; the human pulled away, but it was not in anger, and the action only made Spike chuckle, too. 'All right, I admit it. I'd miss our games if you went.'

This wasn't quite the reply Spike had wanted, but it was better than the one he'd expected, so he let the watcher be for a while. Giles went back gratefully to the wound, the exhausting emotional confrontation over.

When the still raw slash was exposed, to cover the not inconsiderable pain of having it washed out once again, Spike said, ''Preciate this.'

Giles nodded then added conversationally, as if he hadn't been wanting to ask this all along, as if it was not important, 'So, what made you change your mind? Last night you didn't want to play anymore.'

'Neither did you.'

Giles looked up sharply at this, a flash of his heavily concealed emotions briefly altering the neutrality of his features. Spike pressed his advantage. 'You enjoyed just sleepin' next to me - admit it, human.'

Giles still kept his tone flat, 'I did. I do admit it.' He lowered his head once more and added, 'I'd rather fuck you, but it's always good to catch up on sleep.'

Spike felt like hitting him. He grinned instead. It was exciting to feel like hitting someone out of exasperation, impatience, and even more exciting to picture the response if he did hit the git: passion and genuine desire flaring between them.

The human wasn't ready for any of this though, so he just chuckled and said dryly, 'Yeah, like the fucking meself - as you prob'ly noticed.'

Giles looked up once more, surprised. He'd felt like kicking himself and didn't know why he said something so uncharacteristically crude. He was immensely relieved that Spike didn't seem bothered by the comment and that the strange, almost intimate atmosphere between them had not been ruined. He felt incredibly comfortable just sitting here with Spike talking and, more importantly, he sensed that the vampire felt the same.

He began to re-bandage the arm. 'So, tell me again, why - in this game - do you have to go away?'

'Cus I need to grow up a bit, see?'

Giles tried to remain serious but failed. 'Yes, I do see that. Believe me, I do.'

Spike gave an exaggerated gasp of outrage and play-punched him lightly in the thigh. Giles suddenly realised that Spike was flirting with him, and the unexpected sensation made him flush slightly in response. Spike felt this arousal and said, 'I'm three times your bloody age, mate,' and flicking dismissively at the greying hair, added, 'more prob'ly… so, don't diss me, yeah?'

Giles raised one eyebrow disdainfully at the expression but only added ironically, 'And are we talking literal age or emotional maturity here?'

Spike laughed and reached around for his cigarettes, more pleased with this exchange than he was willing to let on. 'So, we agree on summut: I need to go.'

'Well, yes, but… I mean… where and how long?'

'I was thinking maybe ten years?'

'Ten years! Bloody hell! What are you going to do?'

'I was thinking maybe astronaughty sort of things?'

'Keep it a little bit more real?'

'Cowboy then?'

'And you are how old?'

''K, 'k. Bugger you, spoil sport. A hand on a ship. That's what they always become - in me books like. They run away to sea and become hands on some ship.'

Giles was floundering badly. 'Err… and that is because…?'

Spike put on his helpful, serious, conspiratorial look. 'I think it's cus of all those hairy arses, see? No women around to get in the way.'

'I really think you read the wrong books, Spike. Interesting, but wrong.'

Spike flicked up an eyebrow. 'So… you don't want me to tell you what 'appens to me on this ship then?'

'With all these hairy-arsed sailors?'

'Xactly. 'S a good story… but if you wanna keep it all real….'

'No. Go on. In the interests of research only, you realise. I'm intrigued.'

Spike slowly - so slowly - dragged his eyes down Giles' body, raking them over every inch of his naked chest, down to the significant bulge in his lap. 'So….' He brought his eyes just as slowly back up. 'That's what you posh geezers call it, is it?'

Giles, pointedly, lay down on his belly next to Spike. He paused then with a smile, allowed one small emotion to escape his lock-down. 'I'm glad you stayed last night.' Spike bent his head to his cigarette, took a long drag, and then looked up, unable to hide his feelings at all.

He just rolled his eyes and said. 'Story! Do you want me to start or not?'

Giles pillowed his head on his arms and nodded.

'So, I can't stay with you any longer cus I realise you ain't gonna ever love me like I love you….'

'What are you called, by the way?'

Spike sighed. 'Thought you were a bloody watcher? So, watch and listen, hey? Less with the mouth. And prob'ly Joey or Timmy or some such shit name ending in 'y'.'

'Why y?'

'Fucking hell! I don't know why? They always are. Rent boys are always 'y'; the old geezer is always something real hard like.'

'Seems unlikely given in real life…. Sorry.'

'So, I sign onto this ship that's leaving Liverpool for….'

'So, all this was taking place in England?'

'What difference does it bloody make? Fucking is fucking in any country, ain't it?'

'Well, no, not really. I had rather pictured us here, in the warmth. I'm not sure I'd want an English rent boy.'

'Uh huh. I'm gonna run with this cus, unbelievably, I'm actually curious. Why the fuck wouldn't you wanna fuck an English kid?'

'All that bad grammar and odd teeth.'

Spike made to hit him but snatched it back just before impact. He contented himself with a glare. 'So, I've been on this ship now for a week, an' I've been trying too hard to prove meself, and one day I get injured like - arm trapped in a winch….'

'Funny how you always end up getting injured, someone patches you up, and there's all that close intimacy and….'

Spike gave him an inscrutable look. 'Yeah, useful device. As I was sayin'…. Do you actually want me to get to the bit where someone cums up me pale arse or not?'

'Why is it pale?'


'Well, you're not a vampire-fantasy-rent-come-cabin-boy, are you?'

'Just fucking stake me, 'k? No! Okay then. Tanned arse. That better? Cus I'm tellin' you, human, if I were human, I'd be bloody tanned! So! Jeez! Hairy arse'll lose 'is fucking stonker if you don't bloody shut up!'

'Do they ever?'

Spike laughed and shook his head despairingly, flinging himself down on his back next to Giles. 'No. Okay, give you that. They don't. Not in the books I've read, anyway. But this is my bleedin' fantasy, so I'm adding a touch of realism.'

'Won't sell.'

Spike turned his head and their faces were only inches apart. 'No, I guess it won't.'

'Go on then. Stop stopping.'

Spike's pout mingled with a small smile, and Giles defied anyone to resist that expression. Spike went for nuclear and lowered his eyelashes seductively. 'Beg me.'


'Go on, beg me for it.'


Spike shook his head. ''S not begging. Do it proper.'

Giles replaced his hand inside the front of Spike's jeans and repeated softly, 'Please.'

'So…. I'm injured, 'k? But I'm incredibly brave - as always -- shut up - an' one of the officers…. Don't fucking look like that; I've upped me sights a bit, and you'd be surprised what bleedin' officers can get up to. So, this officer gets me into his cabin cus he takes pity on me - as you do - and he makes me take me shirt off. Look, I'm not gonna tell you this if you don't get that look off your face. I wince a bit cus it really hurts but more cus I'm missing you, an' wishing it were you 'elping me. He….'

'What does he look like? Don't do that… your chip, remember? I want to know what my rival looks like, that's all.'

'Tall, dark, soulful eyes, incredibly handsome with stupid, poofy hair, 'k? Can I continue now?'

'Err… yes, but make him a bit shorter and fatter?'

'You want me to be shafted by a short, fat, hairy-arsed officer?'

'Yes. No! I mean….'

'WHEN I HAVE MY SHIRT OFF, he begins to examine the wound, yeah? He's real soft and gentle, which surprises me, cus I've never had any softness. Even from you at the end, cus you just abused me all the time….'

'I never meant to, remember? It was just my inability to express my real feelings for you… err… I should think.'

'Yeah, I know that, but he don't, do he? He's just a dumb little rent boy who needed to go away to find that out for 'imself. As his hands start to roam over me chest, I groan, and he hears it, and his hands stop for a bit, unsure if he heard right. He wants me see - has done since I came on board - but can't admit it to himself, didn't think I'd want him seeing as he's….'

'Handsome with soulful eyes?'

'Nah, a miserable bugger full of guilt and repressed desires. ANYWAY, he orders me to the bed - cus I'm a bit wobbly like. I sit on the edge, and he sits alongside me, doing something to the wound. I cry out, and he puts a hand to my face… oh, bugger this. I'm bent over the edge of the bed with me jeans around me….'

'Bloody hell! What happened there? You can't just jump from repressed desires to bent over the bed. Where's the narrative continuity?'

'Up me fucking arse, that's where. I'm a bloke, mate; I cut to the fucking - 's the only bit you wanna hear anyway.'

'No it's not. I like the slow anticipation, the… so what's happening now?'

Spike blew some smoke in his face and said softly, 'He's stretched me real wide, Giles. Can you picture that? 'Is shaft is kinda dark purple, and it's such a bloody contrast 'gainst my arse. Can you see it sliding in an' out? Is it glistening? Yeah, feel it, Giles; feel that tightness. I'm moaning, and he's groaning from the pleasure of getting' off in me. It were unexpected like, see? Thought he was gonna have to do himself the whole trip, but then… here I am, and I'm so fuckable, aren't I? He's got me 'round the waist, and he's pullin' me back onto him. He's found that spot, Giles… the one you always find for me. He's gonna make me cum….' Spike hissed as Giles' hand began to grind into his wiry curls, too constricted to actually work the cock. 'I'm coming now. So I tell 'im. He's speeding up; he's groaning so loud I'm 'fraid someone's gonna hear, cus then I'd be lost like. They'd all take me, but then I can't think 'bout nothin' cus he's coming in me, and he's so warm. It shoots into me; it washes around, and you've just gotta try that one day, Giles, cus it's like nothing else you've known, and then I come, too, and I'm shuddering and jerking on 'im still, and he's bracing himself to stay in - but he's good at that, bein' an officer on a ship with all that heaving and rollin'… oh! Fuck!'

Giles couldn't get the jeans off for they caught on Spike's boots. He couldn't spread the legs very wide, trapped as they were by the black material, but he still shoved in with more urgency than he could ever remember feeling for Spike. Hard since he'd woken up, the flirting, the story, the feel of Spike's groin swelling inside the jeans, had tipped him over the edge of need. He didn't care if this was in the game, out of the game, hiding emotions, laying himself bare; he just wanted to feel Spike tight around him. He wanted to cum inside him. He wanted to watch Spike cum: watch his face screwed tightly shut in orgasm, watch his eyelids flutter with suppressed desire, watch his eyes open wide at the moment of ejaculation. He wanted to watch as his own sperm flooded Spike and made him feel as he'd described in the story, but most of all he wanted to watch Spike's penis shoot its milky fluid over that perfect, perfect, body.

He found Spike's spot, just as Spike had prompted, and he worked it for the vampire, laughing as Spike's face looked more in pain than pleasure. He rode high on the hard belly, came in low, cursed when he just could not get the legs wide enough, but he wasn't unsatisfied for long. Spike howled out that he was about to cum and, utterly unable to prevent himself - even if he had wanted to - Giles almost erupted his bodily fluids into Spike in response. He was panting so loudly towards the end that his ears were actually ringing with the effort. His heart raced painfully in his chest, but his body felt sublime: all powerful, replete, invigorated, exhausted, but so wanting to do it again. He rolled off but, unexpectedly, kept one arm tightly around Spike's waist. It was so slick on the vampire's belly that his hand soon crept to that cool area and began to play in the spent cum. The moment was too intimate to analyse, so he took them back to the game. 'What happened when he came?'

Spike roused himself and said quietly, 'He's all weepy now cus it weren't you. He's leaves the ship soon as he can cus he don't want that bloke; he only wants you.'

'Maybe he shouldn't have gone in the first place. Maybe if he'd stayed a bit longer the man… I would have come to realise my own feelings. It's possible.'

'Nah. 'S not just for that I gotta go. I need some space, too, remember? I've got a lot of growing up to do - these are all new emotions for me, too.'

'But… ten years.'

Spike lifted his head a little. 'Well, I'll condense it to ten days for the game; how's that?'

Giles didn't reply directly to this, but merely continued to make small trails in the spent cum on Spike's belly. 'What am I supposed to do for ten days?'

'Fall in love with me.'

'Oh. While you're off fucking hairy-arsed sailors.'

'Officers, and I was actually gonna do some washing, get some kip, an' maybe start lookin' for somewhere to live.'

'Ah, good. No sailors.' Giles felt sleepy again, the hypnotic movements of his hand began to lull him into a blissful post-orgasmic slump, but Spike suddenly sat up.

'So, gotta go.'

Giles sat up, too. 'Look, why don't we just skip to the bit where you come back and I love you?'

Spike pursed his lips and began to hitch his jeans up. 'Wouldn't work.'

'Why not? I do. He does. In the game… I could pretend….' Spike laid a finger on his lips.

'You've gotta go through it…. When you play games, you've gotta do it proper, or it don't work. 'Sides… I've gotta father some kiddies, ain't I?'

'What! Good God, Spike, what do you….'

''S what they always do, mate. They go off an' try to find that last shred of themselves deep in some soft cunt.' He added complacently, 'Gotta prove they ain't gay, see?'

Giles spluttered, 'Oh.' He jerked back. 'Are you…?'

Spike sent him a withering look. 'I - am - a - vampire - called - Spike. You are losing it, mate. Maybe we shouldn't play these games, hey?'

'Oh yes. No. I mean…. Oh god. But no fathering?'

Spike quirked an eyebrow at him. 'No other bloody miracles, either. Look, ten days, 'k? I just need to find a place, get sorted, yeah?'

'And you'll come back?'

Spike stood up and shook his shoulders out slightly. 'All grown up.'
Giles had lived satisfactorily as an adult for over twenty years without Spike, so why he couldn't manage ten days was something of a mystery. He was so restless, frustrated, lonely, and bored. Spike did a miraculous disappearing act once again, and he saw nothing of the vampire for the first eight days. Just when he thought he'd have to go and look for him, just to catch a glimpse of that blond hair, just to see a flicker of a smile, they bumped into him one night, patrolling. Giles was talking to Buffy, they rounded a corner, and there was Spike, carrying a chair into a crypt. Giles recognised the crypt by the lock they had smashed in before, the chair was new, but he didn't really care about a chair, only it was so much easier than thinking about how he could think of nothing to say, how overwhelmed he was by this meeting, how much he had missed Spike, and how much he wanted him now. He mumbled, fumbled, hesitated, but then looked up. He saw the same need, the same want on Spike's face and flushed deeply with this knowledge. Spike put the chair down and nodded at them both. Buffy began to interrogate Spike; he answered her with desultory, deflecting lies and half-truths as usual, his eyes fastened hungrily on Giles. Fed up with Spike's replies, Buffy marched into the crypt to see for herself what he was doing.

Alone, Giles took a step forward. Spike reciprocated, and they were about to do something - neither of them knew what - when Xander and Willow caught up with the patrol and came around the crypt. Giles pulled back; Spike fumbled for a cigarette. Buffy re-emerged, and the three youngsters began to move away. She looked over her shoulder and called to Giles. He nodded and moved past Spike. More quietly than Spike would have thought possible, the human murmured, 'How much longer?'

Spike stood slightly in his way, so Giles had to brush past him. 'Sunday, pet. I'll be back Sunday.'

Giles groaned slightly but nodded and made to catch the others up.

Good as his word, Giles was making an early pre-dawn cup of tea on Sunday when Spike appeared in the doorway. Giles came out from the kitchen and took a hesitant step toward him. Spike entered, and when Giles put an arm up, he went into the warm embrace being offered. Giles breathed deeply into Spike's hair and lifted his face back a little. He caught hold of Spike's face and before he knew what was happening, bent his lips to the vampire's.

It would have been their first kiss, the first attempt at such strange intimacy between two people who thought they were just fucking around, but Spike deflected the kiss by taking a drag of his cigarette instead and sliding out of Giles' embrace. 'I'm back.'

Giles knew Spike had wanted the kiss as much as he had and wondered why the vampire had pulled away. Puzzling over this stopped him from puzzling over why he'd wanted to kiss Spike in the first place.

He went back to pick up his tea. 'So, all grown up?'

Spike nodded; he was examining some of Giles' books on the shelf.

'And I now realise I love you?'

Again, Spike nodded but, this time, turned around, a pleased expression on his face. ''Xactly, you love me and… I don't love you any more.'

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