Title: Going Down, Part 3/3
Author: Neena (varscona_pal@yahoo.ca)
Rating: FRAO
Rupert awoke on the front step of his home, the sun valiantly attempting to provide him some warmth. He knew Spike must have brought him home sometime during the night, but he had no memory of it. What he did have was a killer hangover and a ravenous appetite.
He shakily got to his feet, knocking loose a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Rupert picked it up and turned it over. It was a note from Spike:
Ripper,
I’m off to find Dru. I think you made me realize what I’ve been missing out on. Don’t get me wrong—it was great fun and all—but let’s face it, it would never have worked out.
By the way, do us all a favour and leave the demon chasing to the professionals. I’d hate to see you come to a bad end.
S.
Rupert was still digesting the news that he’d just been dumped by a vampire, when the note was summarily snatched out of his hands. He looked up to see one of his more colourful flatmates, still in his pyjamas, poring over the note with comic interest.
“’Ripper’, now, is it?” he taunted, holding the note at arm’s length to keep it out of Rupert’s grasp. “How sad—not even a manly nickname like ‘Ripper’ was enough to keep a girl interested in you.”
“Give it back, Ethan.”
“Why? So you can tuck it under your pillow and cry yourself to sleep at night?” Ethan smiled a snakelike smile that he probably thought made him look compassionate, and crumpled up the note, tossing it into the hedges. “No, Ripper, my dear friend; what you need is to move on. Stick with me. I promise I’ll take your mind off it.”
Sunnydale, 1998…
Spike rolled his wheelchair in circles around Angelus’ new ‘guest’. The barely conscious man bound to the chair in the mansion’s great room was Buffy’s watcher, and Angelus was about to torture him to death. Under normal circumstances that sort of thing would have put a big smile on his face, except, in this case, he knew the man. It had been decades, but those eyes, that face…it had to be Ripper.
Giles stirred in his seat, squinting to focus on the man circling him. Without his glasses, all he could clearly make out was the wheelchair, the bleach-blond hair, and the blurred outlines of a pale, angular face. After a fourth pass, the circling ceased and the blond man stopped directly in front of him.
“I thought I told you to leave the demon chasing to the professionals,” said Spike. A spark of recognition lit up Giles’ face, and Spike knew for certain this was the same man.
“I’m sorry…do I know you?” asked Giles, feigning ignorance.
“Gonna play it that way, are you?” said Spike. “Don’t tell me you’re still holding a grudge.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. So unless you’ve come to set me free, please just leave me alone.” Giles knew the time might come when he’d have to face Spike and relive one of the bleakest moments of his life, but right now was not the best time. He had rather a lot of excruciating pain to deal with, and it was taking all his will power just to stay conscious. Revisiting the mistakes of his youth would just have to wait.
Spike considered the battered and beaten man before him for a moment. He knew Ripper was lying. He was a very bad liar. But he also knew that as a watcher, he’d probably rather die at Angelus’ hands than admit he’d had a sordid fling with a vampire.
“Sorry, my bad,” said Spike at last. “Thought you were someone else.”
Spike rolled out of Giles’ view and watched as the proud, resilient man slumped over in exhaustion. He knew he couldn’t let Angelus carry on with his torture. It wasn’t that he thought Ripper would break—the secret of Acathla was safe, for now—but he couldn’t stand the thought of Angelus taking yet another thing that was rightfully his. And, if he were being brutally honest, he still had a bit of a soft spot for the man.
So, hiding the wheelchair where he knew Angelus wouldn’t find it, he stole away into the night in search of the slayer. If he played his cards right, he could walk away from this mess with his beloved Drusilla in tow, and as an added bonus, Ripper would live to see the sun rise on an Angelus-free world.
END