Giles turned to tell the ever-annoying vampire to shut up but at the eagerly expectant look on the blonde’s face he broke. “Alright. One nip, but that’s it,” he warned, pouring a second drink and carrying it over to the bound vampire.

“Well, are you going to untie me? Or were you going to feed it to me with a spoon?” Spike asked. When the watcher turned away taking the glass of scotch with him he silently cursed himself, ‘Never could learn when to shut my bloody gob.’

Giles deposited the two glasses on the table and turned back to his unwanted house-guest. “If I untie you…”

“I’ll be good, scouts honour,” Spike assured him with a smirk. At the other man’s sceptical look he continued, “look, ‘s not like I’ve got anywhere to go. You know that. What with those soldier boys runnin’ around out there, and me all weak and helpless like I am.”

“Yes, quite,” Giles responded dryly. “The day I believe that you are completely helpless, Spike… well there’ll never come a day when I believe that.” Walking purposefully to the weapons cabinet he unlocked it and retrieved a crossbow. After carefully arming the weapon and relocking the cabinet he walked over and with a last cautionary glare he undid the ropes and signalled for Spike to join him in the living room.

*****

Xander opened the door to Giles’ flat and walked into the living room only to stop short, his jaw hanging as he took in the scene before him. An empty scotch bottle lay on the table next to an overflowing ashtray and a loaded crossbow. Piles of Giles’ precious records lay scattered carelessly about the floor. He knew that the watcher was very particular about them; in fact he clearly remembered how much Giles had yelled at him only a few weeks before when he’d taken one out to look at it. How was he to know that you couldn’t just tip them out onto the table? Was it his fault the silly things were so breakable? Besides, he was pretty sure you’d be able to get all of them on CD anyway.

A loud snort drew his attention away from the mess to focus instead on the couch. Giles lay sprawled at one end of the couch, his head back and snoring loudly with an empty glass cradled carefully in his hand and resting against his stomach.

At the other end of the couch Spike was equally as sprawled, although considerably quieter, his feet were propped on the coffee table and a burnt out cigarette rested between his fingers.

Xander stared for a moment, before backing carefully from the flat and closing the door quietly behind him. There were some things he just didn’t want to be faced with first thing in the morning—or, for that matter, at any time.

the end

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