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Giles approached the house, or rather the car parked outside the house, to talk to who would hopefully be a parent ready to buy his speech about why their child had been selected to attend the school with the best reputation in the country. It was a load of crap and he knew it, but when it came down to it, after thirteen years of finding and training slayers en masse, the parents never took it well to say their 5 year old daughter would need to leave her parents at 12 for slayer training/boarding school. A man was repairing a minivan and as Giles approached on the hot July morning, the man dollied himself out from under the van.
A moment of recognition…“Good lord.”
“Hello Rupert. I knew one of you’d be by soon, its inevitable. Come inside for a cuppa, you’ll need to hear it from the beginning.”
It was Spike, but bloody hell, he’s standing in the sun. No Bleached hair, not black leather, no saunter. Thirteen years since the hellmouth had been closed, and the one in Cleveland is starting to stir.
Giles was so stunned he allowed himself to be escorted into the house, a blue colonial, not able to take in his surroundings, only that it was cooler than in the sun, and he was sweating bullets in his tweed suit.
Spike began to bustle in the kitchen, putting on the kettle and putting a few things away, before grabbing a glass of water for himself and sitting down. He wasn’t in the mood for this, but that was too damn bad because he had the old watcher here, in his bloody house. “He looks so old”, Spike thought
Giles was beginning to wrap his brain around what was happening. “How long?” he asked. “About six years” the other man replied. “I still burn easily, spf 45 is a lifesaver, and prefer my steaks rare, but it’s the real deal” he said it sarcastically, but softened toward the end. ‘the real deal’, the repeated to himself,
“H-how? And , how?….. I think I need a drink…” Spike smiled and got Giles a single malt-scotch. It was lucky they had some being that he hardly ever drank anymore. He didn’t need the escape; he didn’t want to miss a single moment of this life.
“Want the short version or the long?” “ehm, short, then long…”
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