A Home for Christmas
I would have gone straight to church like a good little vampire…
Spoilers: S4, through Pangs and Hush
Rating: PG-ish
Characters: Spike and Giles friendship
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own them, I borrow.
Notes:Thanks to Sus (who got my completely wrong references) and Em (who is slow but priceless. ;)) For Zandra and McAmy, both of whom requested a Giles or Spike-centric fic.
"Bloody hell," Giles muttered as he opened the door and was confronted with a tall figure covered by a smoldering blanket. "Spike, what are you doing here?"
"Well, it's the holidays, yeah? And I would have gone straight to church like a good little vampire but with my nasty aversion to crucifixes and all," Spike started, a cheeky grin on his face, "I kinda figured that'd be a bad idea. Can I come in?"
Giles took off his glasses and breathed a great sigh. "Yes. Please do come in," he intoned.
Spike slipped past him, ignoring Giles' complete lack of enthusiasm, and dropped his holey blanket to the floor. "What, no tree, no presents, no slayer and friends cluttering up the old homestead?" he asked, looking around the small living area of Giles' apartment.
Shutting the door with a solid thunk, Giles replaced his glasses and leveled Spike with a withering look. "Was there an actual purpose to your visit, Spike, besides disparaging my holiday plans?"
"Blood," the vampire said, picking up a gem-encrusted artifact from the desk and putting it down again.
"I'm sorry?"
"I need blood," he repeated bluntly, looking over at Giles, who still stood by the door. "Because of this chip in my head, I can't get it the good, old-fashioned way. And local suppliers have been… less than accommodating. Seem to think they can charge me any amount they want since I can't threaten to bite 'em."
"Can't imagine why they'd think that," Giles muttered.
"So I thought, Giles has got blood. And that nice Weetabix to boot."
"Spike, why are you really here?"
He hung his head. "Kinda got used to you and the Scoobies being around all the time, watchin' my every move," he muttered. "Gets quiet in a crypt with no one else around."
Giles nodded, saddened to realize he knew exactly what Spike meant. With a sigh of resignation, he pointed towards the television in silent invitation. "I was just about to sit down and watch a Christmas classic."
"Bad Santa?" Spike asked hopefully as he set himself down directly in front of the telly. "I like that one."
"Alistair Sim's Scrooge," Giles corrected, taking a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.
"Oh bloody hell! Who wants to watch some old guy dealing with the ghosts of his past?" Spike sneered, frowning at the older man. "Get enough of that in my own undead life."
Giles gestured towards the door. "You're always welcome to leave."
"Nah," Spike said, swinging his feet up onto the table in front of him and settling in. "I'll get used to it soon enough…"
~End~
Posted by Cassie on 01:16 PM