Goodbye, Mr. Giles

[aamah]

Title: Goodbye, Mr. Giles
Author: Aamah
Pairing: S/B
Rating by chapter: Chapter 24 ~ R
Genre: Post NFA ~ General
Warning by chapter: Chapter 24 ~ Adult Language

Many thanks to beta: myfeetshowit - beta extraordinaire
Banner by spikeshunny

Based on characters created by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No copyright infringement intended. Original characters are mine.

~~ Chapter 24 ~ chary ~ [chair-ee]-adjective - cautious or careful; wary

Spike settled on the couch. He felt exhausted and embarrassed. It was bad enough he had to accept help from Buffy, but when Giles and Xander offered to give a hand...well, it was the final insult. He was extremely weak due to blood loss. Moreover, he looked and felt like a corpse. Spike insisted he had had worse injuries and did not want to be coddled. He raised his legs on a pillow and gingerly put an ice pack between his legs. Buffy offered him a blanket, “Thanks, luv. I feel like a right fool laying here with my bits for all to see.”

“I wish you’d let Giles take a look at that gash, Spike,” Buffy said. “I really think it needs stitches.”

“Spike,” Giles said, “I think I’d defer to Buffy’s judgement on this. She’s had a lot of experience in these matters and I don’t mind.”

“Hello? Vampire here! Over a century of experience! Buffy can’t top that! And I’ll just bet you’d like to get a look at the Big Bad’s Package.”

Giles stood up, righteously indignant, “Really, Spike. You are a child.”

“Don’t nobody be asking me to check out anything. No sir!” Xander commented from the kitchen where he was plating the scrambled eggs.

“Don’t worry!” Spike and Buffy said simultaneously.

In fact, Spike was being extraordinarily difficult because he didn’t know how to deal with Giles and Xander. He had them both pigeonholed for years. They learned to coexist peacefully (more or less) because of Buffy; neither of them really liked the other. He doubted any of that had changed for them. As far as he was concerned, he tried hard not to think about it. He was sure he didn’t like them…but if pushed, he would have to admit that they had become important to him. Now…he owed his life to them.

Harris was the most puzzling. If he hadn’t taken charge of the situation Spike was sure Buffy would have cried until he burst into flame with the sunrise. Maybe she would have staked him first…for his own sake…like you shoot an injured horse. The Watcher acted as if something had snapped in his head. No, he owed his existence to…Alexander Harris.

“Right then,” Spike conceded, “I am chastised. Rupert, you may look at the wound. If you deem it needs stitches I’ll drink myself stupid and let Buffy fix me up. Fair enough? She’s stitched me up before in less delicate places. The wound is clean now. Buffy sat me down in a hot tub of water with some kind of brown disinfectant in it and washed the gunk out. The bleeding is mostly stopped and it’s done up nice and tight.”

“Ah…well…I’m honored.”

“Breakfast is served.” Xander said carrying a tray laden with eggs and bacon and croissants.

Giles asked, teasing, “No kippers?”

“Yeah, right! That'll happen! You English...weird.”

“Get it while it’s hot.” Buffy fixed a plate for Spike and slipped to the kitchen to warm a mug of O- neg for him.
~~~
Breakfast finished, dishes cleared, Giles stood and said, “It’s time I was on my way. I’ve got to get cleaned up before going to work. Xander, you’ve a full day ahead of you too. Buffy, I’ll notify the staff and students that you and Spike will not be teaching today.”

“Much appreciated, Rupert. I promise I’ll be a good little vampire and get some rest. Maybe Buffy and me'll take another soak,” Spike said with a lecherous grin.

“Yes...um...you’re forgetting something, I’m afraid,” Giles answered.

Buffy gave Spike a knowing look that said, ‘Be a good boy now and don’t give me any grief.’ He understood perfectly and made a sour face and said sharply, “Oh…all right,” and pulled off the blanket covering his legs.

Xander tried not to look, and in fact only glanced before looking away. What he saw made him hop from foot to foot as he said, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

Spike’s entire genital area was a deep purple, that is, what wasn’t an open wound. His scrotum was swollen to several times its size. Buffy reached down, loosened a bandage, and showed Giles a gash on the inner aspect of his left thigh seven inches long. It was a clean slice probably caused by the blade in the demon’s hand. His penis, which Buffy knew was admirable, was almost lost in the swelling of his scrotum.

Giles was silent. He couldn’t look at Spike or Buffy. As a man, he couldn’t help but be empathetic. Men, being particularly fond of their own parts, share a fellowship of understanding about groin injuries. “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat, “this looks like something that Buffy can fix."

Buffy covered the wound over and stepped aside. "As you said Spike, it’s clean, not jagged. It looks like it will suture easily. I do think the swelling is an issue though and I’m not sure she should try to stitch it while it’s so swollen. Keep it moist and suture it in a few hours when the swelling starts to go down.”

Buffy looked at Spike with a questioning glance that he returned with a reluctant nod. “There’s more, Giles,” she said. “Roll over please, Spike.”

“What? More?” squealed Xander abruptly sitting down. He put his head between his knees.

Spike rolled over and grabbed the back of the sofa for leverage. The area looked so swollen. It was hard to determine what was what. Tucked between his legs was a clump of bandage material. Buffy pulled it gently away. It was evident that the blade had opened the scrotum and left a gaping hole.

“Ah, I see,” said Giles swallowed nervously and sucked in a deep breath. “Right.” Then, in a no-nonsense voice, said, “There is a doctor in the village...”

“No doctor!”

Giles plowed ahead as though Spike hadn’t spoken, “... in the village who was formerly in the employ of the Council and left to go into private practice. The doctor has a complete understanding of things paranormal and mystic and knows of vampires. I’m afraid I’m going to insist, Spike. This needs a doctor’s attention.”

“No doctor,” said Spike.

Buffy assumed Slayer position with feet spread apart and arms folded over her chest, chin lifted and said, “No choice.” She looked Spike squarely in the eye. “Make the arrangements, please Giles.”

“Done,” he said. With that, he and Xander gathered themselves, bid farewell wishing Spike a speedy recovery, and reminded Buffy to call if they needed anything.

Spike waited until they were gone and in a quiet voice commented, “Just like that…”

“I’m not going to lose you or any part of you again, Mr. William T. Bloody and if making a decision over your head is what it takes, then so be it.”

He laid his head back against the couch, closed his eyes and sighed. After a moment, he opened his eyes and saw the face of everything he ever wanted looking back at him. He held out his arms and pulled her to him. Buffy squeezed along side him and rested her head on his chest. Neither of them spoke. The last few hours reminded them how fragile life is. They stayed like that for a long time and then Spike said, “Then so be it.”
~~~
Mrs. Reed stared ahead with tears welling in her eyes, the phone still at her ear, the line now dead. Mrs. Patel stood at the copier and sensed something terribly wrong. She turned and saw the color drain from her supervisor’s face. She stepped over to Adele’s desk and gently took the phone from her and put it to her own ear and heard nothing. She spoke into the mouthpiece and got no answer. Whomever Mrs. Reed had spoken to was no longer on the line. Adele raised her eyes and met Mrs. Patel’s. “It’s one of the girls. There…there’s been …a fatality.”

Shocked, Pretti Patel started to speak. Before she said a word, Adele gathered her senses and was once again in control. “Pretti, until I’ve had a chance to talk to Mr. Giles not one word of this is to be spoken to...anyone.” She spoke slowly and emphasized each word, “Do you understand?”

Mrs. Patel nodded and returned to her task at the copier without another word.

Adele sat with her head in her hands taking deep breaths trying to gain control. Her heart was pounding. She broke out in a cold sweat. She dialed Mr. Giles private number and felt a moment of relief when there was no answer. She didn’t want to be the one to give him the news.

When she had arrived that morning and checked the office answering machine, there was a message from Mr. Giles explaining that he would be in late. She realized that not being able to reach him probably meant he was still on his way. She closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. She wasn’t off the hook yet.

Adele turned off the busy office sounds around her and concentrated. She never forgot the advice of her favorite high school teacher. ‘Planning. Consider what might be coming and plan for it. If you never need to implement the plans, so much the better, but if you do need to act, you can act quickly.’ It was good advice and it served her well over the years. It would help her now.

The student’s personal files were locked in the bottom drawer of Adele's desk. She withdrew the file on Chastity Baker and checked to make certain it was in order. It was. She took pride in being thorough and efficient. She stood up and held onto the desk to steady herself, gathered the folder and went to Mr. Giles office. Placing the folder on his desk, she opened the drapes and squinted as sunlight filled the room. She stood and let the warmth soak in and was grateful that the day wasn’t as black as the circumstances. Flipping through the Rolodex, she located the cell number of the Constable to whom she had spoken and wrote his name on a sticky note along with the number. With her hand on the doorknob, she paused to check she hadn’t left anything undone. Satisfied, she prepared to have Mr. Giles’ tea ready as soon as he arrived. Returning to her desk, she took her seat and waited.
~~~
Physical fitness at the Academy is key. The curriculum provided classes in martial arts, gymnastics, yoga, spinning and other organized forms of exercise. All were courses taken at some point during the girls’ tenure at the school. In addition, the students participated in other forms of aerobic exercise of their own choosing. They were free to decide the when, what and how. The Council wanted the students to develop a program that would become a life long habit. Their calling gave them strength, power and speed. They needed stamina.

One group of the girls rose at dawn each day and ran not less than five miles before breakfast. The others chose a different time for their exercise. As long as the girls checked off the activity, they were free to do as they wished which meant the many of the girls never crossed paths until after breakfast.
~~~
So it was that Chastity Baker wasn’t missed until the first morning class at 0900.
~~~
The two gardeners assigned to Tudor Hall pulled up in front of the building and unloaded their equipment.

“Oi, Dev, we can get this done twice as fast. You work the front and I’ll go round back then I’ll help you pick up your leaves and you help me wiv’ mine,” Joe Conlon said as he put his cigarette butt out on the bottom of his shoe and put it in his pocket.

“Listen to you soundin’ like a bleedin’ boss. Who died and left you in charge?”

Joe shrugged, “C’mon, mate, quit being a sod. Let’s just get the job done, right?”

“Yeah, yeah...I’m on it!”

Joe walked around the building with his rakes thinking he would love his job if he didn’t have to deal with Dev’s pissy attitude. ‘Ach, what the hell,’ he thought, ‘I can’t stay mad on a brilliant day like today.” He continued on his way whistling. As he rested one rake against the wall, bent and broken shrubs caught his eye. “What the fuck? The princesses pitchin’ their trash out the window now?” He glanced up and saw a broken window. Disgusted, he trudged through the ground cover and stopped dead in his tracks.

Joe saw the blood first. When he realized what he was seeing was the body of a girl, he jumped back and lost his footing, landed on his ass, he crab crawled backwards away from the scene. He retched losing his morning tea. He spit the bile out of his mouth and wiped it with his sleeve. He yelled, “Dev, Dev! C’mere, Jesus, call the coppers.” He pulled himself together and went over to the body to see if she was still alive although he was sure she was dead. Her head was at a funny angle. She looked gray, her skin was cold...and her eyes were open...and empty.

Dev finally came round. Joe told him to go call somebody for help and he stayed with the body.
~~~
Mr. Granger, the Head Constable arrived within minutes and surveyed the scene. He was a retired London police officer and no stranger to scenes like this. Theirs was only a very small force so he had only one other officer with him. He had Kinsey cordon off the area while he checked with the housekeeper to close and lock the girl’s room without touching anything and then he called Mr. Giles office. His first instinct was to call the Police, but considering this was a private school, he saw no harm in a few minutes delay.
~~~
Giles stood with his head bent and both hands leaning against the wall as the water beat down on his head in the shower. He was bone tired. The First was the enemy the last time he was up all night. Ironically, it was the last time he felt this alive. He chuckled as he smeared his hand over his face rubbing his eyes.

Quiet, solitary, academic. That was his life now and it was all right with him.

He soaped his washcloth and washed himself vigorously hoping it would get his circulation going. His body wanted very much to climb into bed and catch a few hours sleep but that was not to be. There was too much to do. He was making a mental list of things to be done while he mechanically scrubbed every bit of the night off. Even after a good scrub, he still sensed the goo from the gnarvole and Spike’s blood on his skin. During his final rinse, he thought he heard something. Turning off the water, he listened. Someone was banging on his door.

“Good Lord, now what?” He rushed out to his bedroom, grabbed a pair of jeans, and pulled them on. With bare chest and feet, he hastened to the door shouting, “I’m coming. Just one moment.”

Giles pulled back the latch and opened the door. Standing in the doorway were two uniformed officers from the school constabulary.

“Mr. Giles?”

“Yes,,” he said, his eyes shifting to both men. Although it had been years ago, Giles was no stranger to the law and knew to keep his mouth shut and volunteer nothing.

“I’m Sergeant Carver and this in Mr. Smith,” the larger of the two men said. “Mr. Granger called us in early to help. There has been a...tragedy, sir. One of your students is dead.”

Giles looked and felt punched in the gut. Blanching, he reached back for a chair. He worried he might faint. He bent and put his head between his knees.

Carver moved to help Giles and instructed Smith to get him a glass of water.

Regaining composure, Giles asked all the likely questions: who, when, where, how. His hands were shaking and he was finding it hard to breathe. Sergeant Carver recognized the symptoms as possibly being serious and told Smith to call an emergency squad.

Hearing that, Giles pulled himself together and said, “No, thank you, sergeant. I’m fine. It’s just such a shock...I’m afraid I’m not thinking clearly. Tell me, what comes next.”

“Yes sir, I understand. You’re needed at the scene…to identify the body."
~~~
The cottage was quiet. Spike was resting on the couch and Buffy was tidying up the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. Buffy and Spike exchanged a questioning look and both their minds raced along exactly the same path. The first basket delivery of the day had already come. It wasn’t as if they had a wide circle of friends dropping by. For that matter, they already had just had breakfast with the only friends they had in England. Buffy gestured to Spike to cover himself. The pressure of the blanket against his wounds caused pain. When it was just the two of them as a matter of decency, and because he couldn’t stand the sight of his pecker all squashed into his swollen balls, he kept himself covered with a napkin. Buffy opened the door.

Standing at the door was a smiling young woman. She thrust out her hand in introduction as she said in a crisp, refined British accent, “Good morning. I’m Doctor Bingham. Mr. Giles called me earlier and asked me to look in on Mr. Sanger.” Buffy and Spike must have looked confused because she continued, “It happens that my surgery is open for evening hours on Wednesdays so since I was free now I came right over.” She stepped into the room not waiting for an invitation and still, no one spoke. Dr. Bingham took a deep breath and went on, “Mr. Sanger, I know that Mr. Giles explained that I am familiar with your particular...um...condition. The fact is that I am probably the only physician in the world who is expert in vampire and slayer physiology. My current practice is in Family Medicine, but I am also Board Certified in General Surgery. So now, if you will please let me see your injury, I can determine if you need medical attention or if your own healing abilities will be sufficient.” By now she had removed her coat and moved toward Spike.

Buffy’s mouth fell open. Who did this woman think she was? ‘Dr. Bingham. Tall…well, a little taller than Spike and for a woman that’s tall… Slender, with long, what-looked-like-natural blond hair in a loose French braid all the way down her back and dressed like she stepped out of some expensive English catalog.’ That sweater was cashmere. She was sure. ‘Dr. Bingham…I hate you.’ “Excuse me, uh, Doc-tor Bingham, if that’s who you really are… can you show me some identification? I’m sure if you are so familiar with vampires and slayers then you know that all kinds of kinky weirdos walk into our lives everyday.”

“Buffy, don’t be rude,” Spike said as he favored the doctor with his most seductive expression.

“Oh no, she’s quite right to be cautious, Mr. Sanger,” the doctor said, smiling as she handed Buffy her drivers license.

‘Oh, look at that…even her teeth are perfect…super white. They probably sparkle in the sunlight. Hah! Something you’ll never see…Mis-ter Sanger.’ Buffy, who barely scratched five feet, suddenly felt shorter and positively stubby. She needed to change into something with 10-inch heels. “Everything seems to be in order,” she said as she handed back the ID. “If you’ll excuse me, we weren’t expecting anyone. I’d like to freshen up and change into something more suitable for guests.” She sneered at Spike who was grinning and loving his Slayer in her current shade of green-eyed monster. “I’ll just leave you in the doctor’s capable hands,” and to the doctor she added, “If he misbehaves, doctor, just call me. I’ll be more than happy to restrain him for you,” she said through clenched teeth.

“I’ll be fine, luv,” Spike called after her. “No need to hurry,”

‘Yup. If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him.’

~~
X-posted: captured_kiss, spike_fics, spuffy_fics