Last Resort

~~~~~
Rupert might have been joking with Anya about not kissing the customers, but after a couple of hours working at The Magic Box, he was beginning to think the people in this dimension wouldn’t kiss each other if their lips were on fire. It was all he could do to wrest a smile from most of the embittered souls that entered the shop.

He was feeling so miserable and lonely that when Willow and a smouldering, blanket-wrapped Spike arrived through the door, he practically jumped them.

Willow sniggered as Rupert enthusiastically smothered her face in kisses before transferring his affections to Spike, who smiled despite himself.

“Honestly, Rupert,” said Spike. “You’re like a puppy’s been locked up all day. Did you miss us? Don’t hold back, now.”

Rupert swatted the vampire’s ass playfully. “That’s for being cheeky,” he said.

“That so?” asked Spike. “What do I get if I’m really naughty?”

Rupert leered at him and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “That would require a first-hand demonstration of how I got the name ‘Ripper’.”

Spike’s blue eyes lit up and a sly grin coiled its way into the corners of his mouth. “Mind the shop, would you, Red?” said Spike huskily. “Ripper and I need a little one-on-one time.”

He pulled Rupert past a sputtering Willow and into the empty training room in the back of the store. Barely was the door shut behind them when Spike had the Watcher pinned against the wall. His cool lips clamped desperately onto Rupert’s while his hands made quick work of his belt and zipper.

Rupert was loath to interrupt Spike’s eager advances, but if he didn’t stop him now, it would be too late to turn back. With considerably effort, he managed to pry Spike off him and keep him at arm’s length.

Spike looked at him, confused and maybe a little hurt.

“Spike—I’d love to, I really would,” said Rupert, doing up his trousers. “But I don’t think we should leave Willow alone in the shop. Not with the…difficulties…she’s had of late. She’s too vulnerable to temptation to be left to her own devices in a magic shop.”

“So I have to suffer ‘cause the witch’s got control problems? That’s hardly fair, is it?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. You can’t fool me, you know, Spike. I’ve seen the way you look at Willow—I know you’ve got a soft spot for her.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the soft bits of me I’m thinking about right now. ‘Sides—maybe what she needs is to be shown a little trust. If we go rushing back in there she’ll think we don’t trust her. Ever think of that?” he remarked smugly.

“Spike…” Rupert warned.

“Alright. But you have to promise me you’ll make up for it,” said Spike.

“Any time, any place,” Rupert agreed solemnly. “Just not now.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Spike muttered as they made their way out into the store.

Willow was standing rigid as a board in the middle of the sales floor. She looked deeply distressed, as if the products on the shelves were out to condemn her. Only when she saw Rupert and Spike re-emerge from the training room did she allow herself to take a deep breath and relax her limbs.

“I didn’t touch anything, I swear,” she said vehemently, as if they’d accused her.

Rupert chuckled softly. “I never thought you would,” he assured her. “Nevertheless, I thought you might feel more comfortable with a bit of company.”

She smiled gratefully at him. “Don’t feel like you have to baby-sit me, though. I know you were…busy…in there,” she said, but it was obvious she was hoping he wouldn’t take her at her word.

“Nonsense,” said Rupert quickly, before Spike could open his mouth to take advantage of her offer. “It’s no trouble whatsoever.”

Spike sighed dramatically and dropped into a chair, propping his feet up on the table. He rummaged in his duster for his cigarettes and proceeded to light up, defying anyone to object.

~~~~~
Twelve hours later and it was apparent that Wesley’s hasty arrival had not been necessary. Willow had informed them all that these things happen in their own time, and that, so long as the baby was doing okay, there was no need to worry. She also informed them—repeatedly—that it wasn’t necessary for the entire family to be in the bedroom throughout the whole ordeal. So they took turns, going up to visit Tara in pairs or threesomes and returning to the anxiously awaiting group with progress updates.

Giles had spent the extra time going over the incantation. In fact, he’d gone over it so many times that he’d committed it to memory. He’d also spent so much time fiddling with the ritual candles that Willow threatened to light one and give him a hot beeswax enema if he didn’t desist.

With so many people hanging around with very little to do but wait and worry, the kitchen became a popular place to be. Preparing dinner suddenly became a huge event, involving more cooks than the little kitchen could comfortably hold. Vegetables were chopped and chicken was grilled, but when it was all over, no one had much of an appetite, and the feast sat mostly untouched on the dinner table. Even Xander, famous for his unstoppable appetite, could only manage to put away one chicken breast and a small mound of scalloped mashed potatoes.

Giles was now pacing back and forth in the upstairs hallway, having been banned from the makeshift labour room for excessive fidgeting. As he paced, he mumbled the incantation over and over under his breath. Wesley came up behind him, catching him mid-pace.

“Rupert?” he asked, laying his hand gently on Giles’ shoulder. Giles jumped and spun around at the unexpected touch.

Wesley gave him an understanding look. “Try not to worry yourself,” he said soothingly. “Willow’s got everything under control.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he said.

“Then what?” asked Wesley. “The spell? Rupert, love, I know you think I’m not up to the task, but I assure you I am more than capable of keeping you grounded during your moment of glory.”

Giles looked at him with renewed fear. It had never occurred to him that Wesley’s skills might not be up to par—he had, after all, proved himself on more than one occasion out in Los Angeles. At least that was the word from Cordelia. Perhaps things were different in this dimension. Perhaps, here, Wesley was still a wet-behind-the-ears prat. Giles quickly dismissed the idea—the man before him was definitely no prat.

“Rupert! That’s where you’re supposed to say, ‘don’t be a silly old fool, Wesley; of course you’re up to it’,” Wesley said with a nervous little laugh. “You do think I’m up to it…don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he answered, although he was less certain now than he had been before their discussion. To hide his doubt from Wesley, he pulled the apprehensive younger man into a hug, complete with reassuring back pats.

~~~~~
The day had come and gone with no news from Anya. And as the sun set, Buffy headed out on patrol, dragging a protesting Spike along with her. Rupert was pretty sure the only reason she’d taken Spike with her was to keep the two of them apart. Their displays of affection seemed to disturb her, especially when Dawn would giggle or make a comment.

Rupert resigned himself to the possibility that he might have to spend the night alone. He couldn’t say he cared much for the idea.

As midnight reared its head, and the group was slowly disbanding to head off to their own beds, Anya showed up at the door. Xander, who was the last one left in the living room with Rupert, perked up the instant she arrived. Again, Rupert couldn’t help feeling that it was the prospect of being left alone with him that made Xander so happy to see Anya. Even though he’d been careful not to offend the young man, he was clearly not over the kiss they’d shared. Rupert sighed as Xander made a show of lavishing Anya with hugs and kisses in an attempt to prove his manliness.

“Xander…not here,” said Anya. “You’re always telling me we should wait ‘til we get home…unless you want Rupert to join in?” she asked hopefully.

The death rays issuing from his eyes was a good indication of what Xander thought of a three-way with Rupert.

“Calm down, Xander, I was only kidding…sort of,” she added.

“Were you successful in locating your friend Bob?” asked Rupert, wisely steering the conversation in a new direction.

“No,” said Anya, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Marcy said he took off on a side trip. He wasn’t in Florida—not in any of the good dimensions, at least. Will you tell Buffy for me?” she pleaded, her lower lip jutting out in a sweet little pout.

“Certainly,” said Rupert. “I’ll tell her in the morning.”

“Thanks,” said Anya, suddenly her cheerful self again. She turned to Xander: “Let’s go home. You can pick up where you left off.”

Anya yanked a grinning Xander out the door, and Rupert found himself alone.

With Spike’s return looking doubtful and the chances of going home any time soon remote, his mood took a nosedive. As he set up his blankets and pillow on the sofa, brooding thoughts overwhelmed him. He felt like he was being punished somehow—stuck in this loveless dimension and being forced to miss two of the most important moments in his young family’s life together. He couldn’t help thinking bitterly that the Giles from this dimension didn’t deserve the great honour of being part of his family. If what his so-called friends had said of him was true, then he’d probably run screaming from them the moment they laid lips on him. Which meant that all their careful preparations for the joining ceremony were for nought—all because his doppelganger was a sexually repressed stick in the mud. He didn’t even want to think what might happen if he didn’t make it home in time for the birth of Tara’s baby. His role in the birthing process was crucial, and he feared Wesley would have to perform the spell solo…a grim thought indeed.

Rupert grumbled miserably as he slid under the blankets and clicked off the light. He stared up at the moon-greyed ceiling, thoughts churning so violently in his head that he knew any attempt at sleep would be futile. Still, he snuggled up against the back of the couch on the off chance that pressing into the cushions might be enough to fool him into thinking he wasn’t alone.

It was hopeless.

He was about to click on the light and give up on sleep altogether, when the front door opened and Buffy tiptoed in. Without Spike.

Rupert feigned sleep, keeping his breathing low and even. He heard Buffy moving around in the front hall, shucking off her shoes and jacket. Then he heard the soft creaking of the floorboards as she snuck into the living room and stopped right in front of the couch. For a moment he thought she was on to him, but he kept up the pretence of sleep anyway, in case he was wrong.

The last thing he expected was to feel her soft lips press gently against his forehead. Rupert fought the urge to open his eyes—it wouldn’t do to scare her off. He lay still, waiting for her to leave.

“Nice try, Rupert,” she said softly in his ear, and she turned on the lamp. “I know you’re awake.”

Rupert opened his eyes cautiously, unsure what to expect from her. She seemed so hot and cold towards him that it was impossible to guess what she was thinking. But she was smiling, and that was enough encouragement for him to sit up and make room for her on the couch next to him.

“Is it true?” she asked.

“Is what true?”

“Spike said you’ve never slept alone before. Is that true, or did you just tell him that to get him into bed with you?”

“It’s true,” said Rupert. “I’ve never spent the night alone before—it just isn’t done where I come from. Family, friends, co-workers…there’s always someone willing to take you in and make you feel welcome. Actually, this is the first time in my life I’ve ever truly been alone.”

Buffy could hear the bitter emotion brewing in Rupert’s voice, and she suddenly felt very guilty for ordering Spike to stay away.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Rupert, his green eyes softening at the humble request.

“It’s just…I could never tell Giles this—he’d freak! But telling you is kind of like telling him, only without the fallout. Know what I mean?”

Rupert nodded and waited for her to continue.

“I kissed Spike!” she declared boldly, and quickly covered her mouth with her hands as if she’d uttered an obscenity at a priest.

Rupert tried his best to act surprised, even though he’d witnessed the event from the sidelines in the cemetery.

“And not just once,” she added quietly. “I’ve kissed hem a few times.” Her huge eyes peered up at him like a puppy being scolded by its master. He had no idea why she was so worried what he would think, but his reaction was obviously very important to her.

“Do any of the others know?” he asked.

“No. And they never will,” she said adamantly. “I was weak, and it was stupid, and it will never happen again. Not ever.

“You may not know this, but I haven’t had the best track record when it comes to dating vampires. The whole soulless, undead thing tends to make life messy…especially for my friends. If Giles knew that I’d kissed Spike, despite everything he went through with Angelus, he’d never look at me the same way again. And I don’t think I could handle that. If I told him, it might ruin our friendship.”

“No,” said Rupert sadly. “It’s keeping secrets like this from him and cutting him off from your feelings that will do the damage in the long run. If you truly value your friendship, you’ll tell him what you’ve told me. Have a little faith in the strength of his love for you—he won’t let you down.”

Buffy’s eyes welled up with tears and he gathered her against him to let her cry it out. A short while later, feeling drained and dishevelled, Buffy wiped the tears off her face and looked up at Rupert gratefully.

“Skootch over,” she ordered.

“Pardon?”

“If I’m gonna sleep here on the couch with you, I’m gonna need a lot more room than this,” she answered.

Rupert gladly ‘skootched’ over to let her lie down next to him. She quickly hogged a good portion of the blankets and pounded the pillow until it was puffed just the way she liked it.

“Are you quite settled?” he asked, amused.

“Almost,” she said and pulled his arm around her. “There…perfect.”