Last Resort

~~~~~
Giles was busy warding off a massive aneurysm being brought on by the unexpected vision that was Tara. The entire group watched him with mounting concern as he sputtered and stuttered himself into speechlessness, until all he could do was stare.

“Is he alright?” asked Tara, rubbing a protective hand over her swollen abdomen.

“You’re… You’re… But how? I thought…you and Willow… Who’s the father?” Giles demanded, feeling his paternal instincts kick in at the sight of his sweet, innocent Tara in the final stages of pregnancy.

“Well you are, you big silly,” said Willow, giving Tara’s hand a squeeze and stealing a loving glance at her.

“M-m…me?”

“That is to say, you’re one of the fathers—along with Oz and Xander and Spike,” said Tara, her sweet doe eyes shining happily in the soft light of the front hall.

Giles could feel a prickly heat rising to his face, and he thought he might be sick. He sat down. It didn’t matter that there was no chair. He was happy enough to sit on the floor—at least he couldn’t fall off the floor when the next shock hit him.

“It’s not possible. How long was I out for? And how can I be the father? It’s not the sort of thing one is likely to forget, is it? There’s something wrong here. Something very, very wrong.” Giles kept up his babbling, seeking some kind of affirmation in his young friends’ eyes.

Dawn came in at that moment, and seeing the weird tableau, said: “What happened? Who broke Rupert?”

“Dawn,” said Buffy in her strict, no-nonsense voice, “didn’t I tell you to finish your homework before dinner?”

“But…Rupert…” Dawn whined, knowing she was about to get shut out of whatever was going on, just because she was the youngest. It wasn’t fair.

“Upstairs, now,” said Buffy. “Or I won’t let you watch the ceremony.”

Dawn’s eyes burned with resentment—she’d wanted to take part in the ceremony, but her sister had refused because she was too young. Now she was threatening to not let her watch? Dawn trudged grumpily up the stairs, sticking her tongue out at her sister when she thought no one was looking.

“I saw that,” Buffy called out after her.

“Ugh!” they heard Dawn harrumph from upstairs.

Buffy turned her attention back to Giles, who was still muttering quietly to himself on the floor. With Anya’s help she managed to get him over to the living room couch.

Everyone gathered close, situating themselves so they could all easily reach Giles. Willow’s hands massaged his shoulders while, beside him, Xander sat running his hand through Giles’ hair. Buffy and Anya each had a hold of a leg and were gently stroking him as Tara held his hand. He could tell by the expressions on their faces that they were earnestly trying to comfort him, but the result was anything but comforting. Giles felt oddly panicked, like he was trapped in a circus funhouse with an over-attentive octopus. Wherever he turned there were hands and naked bodies, and…dear Lord! Was that Xander’s hand slipping under his waistband? Giles felt his control snap. Hell, he practically heard it snap.

“Will all of you please leave me alone!” he bellowed, his arms flailing to break free from the groping circus octopus. Everyone backed off as if they’d been burned.

“I demand to know what’s going on. Right now,” he said, his voice loud and shaking.

“Nothing’s going on here, Rupert,” said Buffy, trying to sound calming. “Except for you wigging out on us, everything’s the same as you left it when you went out shopping.”

“No—you’re wrong—everything’s different. You’re all different.” Giles could see that they thought he was out of his mind…they genuinely saw nothing out of the ordinary here. He thought back to the events that took place in the car park earlier, and remembered the touchy-feely group of concerned citizens, and it suddenly clicked. “Or maybe it’s me,” he said quietly.

“Amen to that,” Anya agreed cheerfully.

“This afternoon I passed out, and when I awoke everything was different. I’ve been trying to understand why everyone’s behaving so oddly, but I was looking at it from the wrong angle. I’m not in Sunnydale anymore.”

The Scoobies swapped glances.

“Uh…Dorothy…hate to spoil your trip down the yellow brick road, but you’re still in Sunnydale,” said Xander with a wry smile.

“Yes… Quite,” said Giles, thinking that if he hadn’t been naked when he said that, he wouldn’t have been able to tell this Xander from his own. “I’m not saying there aren’t similarities, but this is not the Sunnydale I belong in.”

Giles explained to them the situation as he saw it, pausing occasionally for Buffy, who kept running back and forth between the kitchen and the living room as she prepared dinner.

“So you figure you were brought here from another dimension?” asked Willow.

“Which one?” asked Anya. “There are an infinite number of alternate dimensions.”

“Like the one where there’s no shellfish,” Tara added helpfully.

“Exactly,” Anya agreed. “And if we’re going to rescue Rupert, we need to know which hell dimension he was sent to.”

“I didn’t come from a hell dimension,” Giles said with some resentment. They all looked at him askance. “What? There was nothing wrong with my Sunnydale.”

“Were we all married in your dimension?” asked Buffy.

“No, but…”

“Was everyone happy and in love?” asked Willow.

“Hardly, but…”

“Were you at least getting sex regularly?” Anya asked.

“That’s none of your business,” said Giles, pinking a little at the cheeks.

“Which means no,” Anya concluded.

“Sounds like a hell dimension to me,” said Xander.

“Granted, we aren’t as…open…sexually…as you appear to be here, but it’s hardly a dimension of hell,” Giles said, feeling the need to support the home that he’d been running away from. No—not running away—that made it sound too cowardly.

“In this dimension of yours…am I pregnant?” asked Tara in her soft voice.

“No,” Giles replied, mesmerised once again by the maternal beauty of the young woman. “And you weren’t likely to become so.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked.

“W-well…” he faltered, feeling a hot flush come over him as he tried to think of a way to explain it. “In my world, you and…and Willow… You were, uh…dating. Exclusively. Or at least you were until yesterday.”

“When you say ‘exclusive’, do you mean temporarily, or in a permanent sense?” asked Willow, intrigued.

“Ideally it would have been permanent. Just like Xander and Anya, who are engaged to be married. Where I come from people form bonds in pairs—marriages, at least in our culture, are strictly between two individuals.”

Xander and Anya looked at each other like they’d never seen each other before.

“So…it would just be me and Xander?” asked Anya. “And Willow’s got Tara. Does that mean that you and Oz are a couple?”

Giles scratched at his ear, wishing he had his glasses to tinker with. “No. Oz left town when he and Willow broke up.”

“I see,” said Anya. “Then you and Spike must be…”

“Good God, no!” Giles replied quickly.

“Then you’re all alone?” asked Buffy.

“I suppose I am,” admitted Giles; but when he saw the looks of pity being bandied about, he thought it best to qualify his remark. “That is, I never married, but that doesn’t mean I’m lonely. As your watcher I’ve found that relationships with outsiders can be…difficult. And my duty to you was always more important, anyway.”

“Then why aren’t we married, then?” asked Buffy. “That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it? Or am I paired off with someone else?”

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the dawn of a brand new headache approaching. “We’re not married. It would be improper for us to be romantically involved. And, sadly, my Buffy is as alone as I am.” When he’d spoken the words he realised how true they were. Buffy had clawed her way out of her own grave to face the harshness of life alone. And then she was expected to battle evil and raise her little sister as well. How could he have expected her to bear it all alone when she wasn’t even fully recovered herself?

“Hang on,” Willow said, belatedly latching on to his earlier comment, “Oz broke up with me?”

“You make it sound like we’ve never had sex before,” Rupert said.

“That’s because we sodding well haven’t!” Spike reasoned loudly.

“You don’t remember?” asked Rupert.

“There’s nothing to remember. We’ve never so much as looked at each other before, let alone got all naked and squelchy.”

“And the joining ceremony tonight… Do you know anything about that?”

Spike cocked his head and squinted at him as if examining a rare species of beetle. “You really aren’t Giles, are you?” he asked.

“I’m starting to think I might not be,” said Rupert. “At least I’m not the Rupert that belongs here with you.”

“Hunh,” Spike grunted, mulling it over.

“In a way I’m relieved,” Rupert added with a shy smile. “I was honestly starting to think there was something wrong with me. Now I know I’ve just been…misplaced.”

“So in this place you come from…you and me are…”

“Intimate?” Rupert supplied.

“I was gonna say ‘bangin’ each other’, but if you want to get all posh about it…”

Rupert surprised him again by laughing—a deep, earthy laugh that was anything but repressed. “Trust me, it wasn’t as tawdry as you make it sound. Tonight was supposed to be your joining ceremony—our relationship was going to be formalized.”

“You mean I was gonna marry you?” Spike chortled.

“Not just me—all of us. Buffy, Tara, Willow, Xander, Oz, Anya…we’ve been married since they came of age nearly two years ago. You were going to be our first additional member.”

“Let me get this straight—you’re saying that somewhere out there is a Spike who’s about to take part in a never-ending, legalized orgy? I always knew I’d got the short end of the stick.”

“Am I to understand that’s not how it works here?” asked Rupert, puzzling over the novelty of such an idea.

Spike merely shrugged, not wanting to let on that he was supremely jealous. He got down off the sarcophagus and pushed the lid half off. Then he reached inside and unlocked the mini fridge he kept hidden there. He pulled out a packet of O-neg. and replaced the lid.

“I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t think you’d appreciate the house red,” said Spike. He tore into the packet and emptied it into the slightly used mug on the coffee table. “Don’t have much in the way of food, neither.”

“That’s quite alright,” said Rupert. “What with all the excitement today, I’ve rather lost my appetite. Do you mind if I crash here tonight?”

“Knock yourself out. Bedroom’s at the bottom of the ladder,” said Spike, taking a long pull on his drink. Rupert was still standing there when he looked up again. “What?”

“Will you come with me?” asked Rupert quietly.

“You’re not really afraid of the dark, are you?”

“I don’t mean downstairs… Will you come with me to bed?”

Spike sputtered, nearly choking on his blood. He was halfway to laughing when he realized the man was being serious.

“Relax,” said Rupert. “I won’t try to seduce you…if you don’t want me to,” he added. “It’s just that I’ve never slept alone before.”

“You’re joking! You mean to say you get shagged every night?” Spike exclaimed, not caring if he did sound jealous. “When you go back, can you take me with you?”

“Spike, as hard as it is to believe, not everything is about sex,” said Rupert. “I’ve simply never gone a night without sharing my bed, that’s all. I don’t think I could fall asleep without someone lying next to me.”

“What you mean is you want me to be your teddy bear for the night?” Spike couldn’t believe he was actually considering his proposition. But he couldn’t remember the last time anyone wanted to just cuddle with him. Much to the shame of his big-bad demon self, he kind of fancied the idea.

“More or less,” said Rupert.

“More?” asked Spike warily.

“That is entirely up to you,” he replied, his voice hinting towards the seductive.

“Hunh,” Spike grunted, mulling it over. It was something he was getting good at. He stared off for a while, making it appear as if he was seriously deliberating when he had in fact already made up his mind. “What the hell—didn’t have any plans anyway.”

Buffy was holed up in the kitchen stirring the gravy as Giles and the others compared notes in the other room. Out of consideration for their guest, Willow and Xander put on what they considered to be ‘clothes’, but which looked to Giles to be more like gauze with delusions of grandeur. Still, he appreciated the effort.

“So I guess that puts an end to the ceremony,” Anya said glumly.

“Shh…” said Xander, steeling surreptitious glances at the kitchen. “Buffy might hear you. She’ll freak if she hears you say that.”

“You keep mentioning this ceremony—it must be very important. If it’s not too difficult, perhaps I can take Rupert’s place. I may be a bit out of practice in giving speeches, but given a few cue cards, I’m sure I can muddle my way through it.” He couldn’t figure out why they were all looking at him as if his pet hamster had passed away.

“Yeah…Giles, I think this one might be out of your league,” said Xander, giving him a consoling pat on the knee.

“Why? What is it I would have to do?” asked Giles, nonplussed.

Just then the front door banged open and Oz appeared. “I come bearing the guest of honour,” he said and stood aside to let Spike enter.

Spike looked resplendent in his very best pair of black jeans and his least dirty white shirt. The second he was inside he locked eyes with Giles and grinned lustily.

“Hope Watcher-Boy here took his vitamins, ‘cause he’s in for one helluva ride,” said Spike.