Last Resort

~~~~~
Buffy arrived home late. Very late. She was too full of anger and frustration to face her friends, so she’d spent much of the night prowling the town in search of a fight. Sadly, she hadn’t seen any action since she’d left Spike—and that was definitely not the kind of action she was after.

She snuck into her house, not wanting to wake Xander and Anya, but she didn’t have to because they were still awake, and Xander was busy pacing a hole into her carpet. Buffy’s slayer alert went off.

“What happened,” she demanded. “Is it Dawn?”

Anya, who was far calmer than Xander, answered her; “Dawn’s fine, but we don’t know where Giles is.”

“I know where Giles is,” said Buffy bitterly. “He’s as far away from me as he can get.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Xander, finding time to speak between bouts of nail chewing.

“Am I missing something here?” asked Buffy. “What’s with the looks of guilt?”

“Have I ever told you about my Uncle Bobrachnilothtot?” asked Anya.

“Please—for the sake of my sanity, say yes,” said Xander, his brown eyes haunted with memories of past discussions on the subject.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Yes,” said Buffy.

“Well, when Willow’s spell went all wonky and Giles and I…”

“I think I’d better tell the story,” Xander cut in before she could mention the amazing kiss part. “Anya decided that Giles needed to take a vacation so he wouldn’t want to move away anymore.” He saw the veil of confusion descend over Buffy and held up his hand; “I know—don’t ask me how she came to that conclusion, I’m still trying to work that one out myself. Anyway, she asked her demon friend Bob to give her a hand…”

“And now Giles is stuck in some weird demon dimension?” Buffy guessed.

“Don’t be silly,” said Anya. “I asked him to send Giles to a safe place where he could have plenty of sex. Xander and I aren’t worried about him—it’s the Giles from the other dimension we’re worried about.”

Buffy stared blankly at the ex-demon, her brain snagged on the phrase ‘plenty of sex’, and trying to imagine Giles in such a place. It couldn’t be done. Her mind refused to let her visualize it; so instead, she concentrated on the last half of what Anya had said.

“There are two Gileses?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“Yup,” said Xander. “The sex-verse Giles showed up at your front door, kissed everyone, then ran off.”

“He didn’t just run off…Xander scared him away because he’s homophobic and he didn’t want to admit that Giles is a good kisser,” said Anya.

Xander shot her a scathing glare, and then tried to explain it better to Buffy. “I didn’t know it wasn’t our Giles. I mean, how was I supposed to know that a sexually uninhibited Giles from another dimension was gonna show up and french me?”

“He frenched you?” Buffy squeaked.

“That’s beside the point,” Xander said, trying to salvage the discussion with a minimum amount of further embarrassment. “The point is there’s a replacement Giles running loose in Sunnydale, and if he kisses the vamp down on 34th and Vine, he might get more broken than just his bottle of love potion number nine.”

“Huh?” asked Buffy.

“What my pop-culturally challenged boyfriend is trying to say is that Giles’ promiscuous doppelganger is wandering around on a Hellmouth and will likely end up dead if we don’t find him,” said Anya.

“And if he dies, our Giles dies too,” Xander added, and began chewing his nails again.

For a very brief, dark moment, Buffy thought to herself ‘good, it would serve him right’. Then she felt horrible—she might be pissed at him right now, but she still loved the guy. And she had no grudge against this other Giles.

“Okay, so we need to find him…but I’ve been patrolling all night, and I didn’t see him,” she said. “Maybe he found cover for the night?”

“I’ve been out there all night, too,” said Xander. “I couldn’t find him. And I was actually looking for him.”

“Right. Let’s assume the worst, then. If Hugh Heffner got himself in trouble of the demon variety, you can bet Spike knows about it. He was creeping around the cemeteries being all pesky.”

“So I guess we’re paying a visit to the Big Not-So-Bad,” said Xander.

“No. You and Anya stay here with Dawn…Giles might wander back here on his own. I’ll take care of Spike.”

Judging by the fierce glint in her eye, Xander decided he was glad he wasn’t a bleach-blond vampire named Spike right now. Buffy spun efficiently on her heel and marched out the door.

~~~~~
Rupert had long since dozed off, sleeping the sleep of one truly at peace with the world. But Spike couldn’t close his eyes for all the thinking he was doing, so he lay there watching the man who’d dropped into his life and turned everything upside-down.

The sex wasn’t supposed to be good. But it was. Hell, if he was being completely honest, it was spectacular sex. Primo sex. And just who the hell did Rupert think he was, stirring up all these feelings then falling asleep to let him deal with them on his own? He had half a mind to shake him awake so he could tell him off. But he looked so happy, all curled up next to him, his hair all ruffled and that little smile playing on his lips. It would be evil to wake him up.

Spike flicked at Rupert’s arm, but got no reaction. So he flicked harder. Rupert awoke, sleep-muddled and alarmed.

“Spike? What is it? Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Rupert raised himself up on his elbow and waited patiently for the rest. Spike didn’t disappoint.

“How can you sleep after what we just did?” he asked.

“Actually, I find that’s usually when I sleep best,” said Rupert with a sly-cat grin.

“Don’t get smart—you know what I mean. Did what happened tonight mean nothing to you?” Spike asked. Then he thought about what he was saying and smacked his hand to his forehead. “God! I sound like a bloody ponce!”

Rupert gave a whispery chuckle; “You’re not a ponce, Spike. Of course I know what you meant. But to be honest, I don’t know how to answer you. I love Spike—my Spike—very much…but I don’t know how I should feel about you.”

“Thanks a lot,” Spike snarked and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Please don’t do that,” said Rupert.

“Do what?”

“Close yourself off,” he answered. “You’re so much like the Spike I know—you wear your heart on your sleeve for all to see, but you don’t let anyone near it. Least of all the people you love the most.”

“Don’t love you,” Spike replied coolly. “Don’t hardly know you, do I?”

“Perhaps. But you know the Rupert from this dimension, and I doubt you’d have slept with me tonight if you didn’t feel something for him,” said Rupert.

Spike eyed him appraisingly for a moment. There was no doubt that he looked exactly like Giles—sounded like him and all—but his Giles would sooner stake him than kiss him. It was ludicrous. And yet…

“Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that I had occasionally…noticed him,” said Spike. “What good does that do me if you go back where you came from and I get my Giles back? He can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Really?” asked Rupert, genuinely surprised.

“Threatened to kill me more than once,” he answered.

“Well that should make for an interesting joining ceremony,” said Rupert.

Spike barked out a laugh. “What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on that wall,” he said, joyfully going over the scenario in his head. “What? Why are you looking at me that way?” he asked, feeling self-conscious under Rupert’s suddenly intense gaze.

“I love the way you laugh,” said Rupert, tracing his finger over Spike’s lower lip.

Spike’s eyelids fluttered shut as he savoured the delicate touch. He didn’t see Rupert lean over him, but he felt it, and he waited for his warm lips to cover his own. But Rupert had other things in mind. Instead of going straight for the kiss, he trailed his fingertips over Spike’s cheekbone and jaw.

Spike couldn’t resist taking a peek, but Rupert smiled and shook his head at him, then leaned down to place a light kiss on each eyelid, forcing them closed again. Spike grinned as he felt Rupert’s fingers resuming their exploration of his face. He didn’t mind—it had been decades since he’d had a nice, slow shag.

And of course, that’s when the trap door banged open and Buffy dropped down, landing cat-like on the floor near the bed.

For a minute that lasted an eternity, Buffy gaped at Spike and Rupert in startled silence. Spike didn’t know how to react. On one hand he was worried about what Buffy must think of him now, but on the other hand he just wanted her to piss off so he could get back to business with Rupert.

“Well, I guess I don’t need to ask if you’ve seen Giles anywhere,” said Buffy tersely, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t suppose I can expect one of those ‘this isn’t what it looks like’ speeches, can I?”

Spike sat up, not caring that the sheet had fallen away to expose his full-frontalness. Buffy’s face flushed scarlet, and she scowled at him.

“You jealous?” Spike jabbed. “I gave you your chance back at the cemetery, an’ if I remember right, Victor Montrose’s headstone paid the price for it.”

“I can’t believe you—you can’t have me, so you get your revenge by sleeping with my watcher? Well I’ve got news for you,” she said triumphantly; “That isn’t Giles.”

“Well, duh! I knew that the minute I saw him,” said Spike, stretching the truth until it nearly snapped. “And not that it’s any of your business, but we didn’t do a whole lot of sleeping.”

“Okay…Eww! That’s a mental picture I’d like to erase,” said Buffy. “Come on, Giles. I’m taking you home.”

“My name’s Rupert,” he said. “And I think I’d rather stay here with Spike, if that’s alright. I know for a fact that I’m not welcome in your home.”

“What? Because of what Xander said?” asked Buffy. “He didn’t mean anything by it… He just freaked because he thought you were our Giles when you kissed him.”

“And you care so much for each other that such a simple show of affection results in insult and expulsion? Thank-you, but I’ve problems enough as it is without having to deal with hostility from members of my own family as well.”

“Your own family?” asked Buffy.

“Rupert here’s married to you lot where he comes from,” Spike answered, smugly parading his insider’s knowledge.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Buffy, dismissing the idea out of hand. She turned to Giles; “I want you where I can keep an eye on you until we can get you home. It’s not safe here—this is a Hellmouth, not a whorehouse,” she said, casting a frosty glare at Spike.

Rupert’s eyes’ narrowed at the insult; “I know exactly where I am, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“This isn’t up for discussion—you’re coming with me,” Buffy stated, taking up a stance that dared him to defy her.

“If you insist,” Rupert finally acceded with a sigh. “But I’d like Spike to come along…I could do with an ally.”

Spike’s jaw jutted out and his eyes sparkled as he smiled victoriously at Buffy.

“Fine. Bring whatever you want,” she said, taking a low shot. “But unless you want your honey bursting into flames, I suggest you get a move on—sun’s almost up.”

Rupert threw back the sheets and got out of bed; naked as the day he was born. He ignored the choked gasps issuing from Buffy’s flapping mouth, and proceeded to get dressed. Or, at least minimally dressed—he chose to put on only his pants and undershirt, leaving the rest behind.

Spike, too, got dressed quickly, taking great pleasure in flaunting his casual nudity in front of Buffy. He had a feeling this was going to be a very fun day. So many Scoobies to shock! The thought brought a wicked leer to his face.

~~~~~
When Giles awoke, the living room was awash in warm sunlight. All around him people were stirring, and there were a few mumbled ‘good morning’s. Giles’ entire body ached pleasantly, and the raw throbbing of his backside left him in no doubt that he’d actually done all the things he remembered doing last night.

He looked about and spotted Buffy curled up against Spike in the shady part of the room. The memory of what it was like having sex with her surfaced and the first tendrils of guilt seeped into his conscience. He wondered if he would ever be able to look at her again without picturing her at the moment of her climax—all flushed and sweaty.

His pillow moved—Willow was waking up.

Giles felt her fingers comb through his hair and he turned his head so he could look at her.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked with a sleepy smile.

“Bad? No…bad is not the word I would use to describe it,” Giles answered, smiling uncertainly back at her. He stretched out his limbs, working out some of the kinks, and inadvertently smacked Oz with his foot.

“Five more minutes,” said the redheaded young man, rolling over to go back to sleep.

Giles got to his feet and blinked into the sunlight streaming in through the window. He finished stretching out his tight muscles, and then turned around only to come face to face with Dawn, who was standing there wearing a broad grin and nothing else.

Giles panicked, trying to cover himself and run away at the same time. He ended up tripping over Oz and landing face-first into Anya’s bosom.

“Hey! My breasts are not meant to be used as air bags,” groused the ex-demon.

“Sorry,” said Giles, hastily pulling himself off of her. He grabbed a pillow off the floor and covered himself with it, backing slowly towards the stairs. In the cold light of day, with the eyes of all his dear friends on him—and Dawn giggling—Giles felt absolutely mortified at what he’d done.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he said and quickly stumbled up the stairs.

“Nice bloke,” said Spike. “Anyone care to tell me who he is?”