"Yes," agreed Mr Rugged and Hearty Musician. "She's the realest kind of real."
"Nobody asked you," snapped Spike, and then something in the bloke's face made him wish he'd held his tongue. "That is -- um. I mean -- I don't think. Look, this is all going wrong, and I'm hungry, and I'm losing my sense of humour."
"That would never do," agreed the bloke, smiling. His elderly friend looked close to tears, which was kind of comforting, but Spike was thoroughly unimpressed by how the evening was panning out so far. "Can I suggest you try your luck in the Old Town Square?"
"That's a good idea," said Dru, before Spike had the chance to reply. He sighed.
"Excuse us just a moment, will you?" said Spike. He pulled Dru off to one side.
"Drusilla, princess, light of my life -- we aren't really going to just let them walk off, are we?" he demanded plaintively. "I mean, how's it going to look? People will think we're going soft."
"Spike," Drusilla said, in a tone of voice that brooked no contradiction. "You're going to make me cross. Very, very cross."
"But, love --," he protested, without very much hope.
"No. I've told you. No." Spike stared at her entreatingly for a long moment and then his shoulders sagged. Her heart was set on this.
"Oh, very well. Your wish is, as ever, my command. Go on then," he added more loudly, glancing over at the two men who were still waiting politely a few yards away. "Shoo. Skidaddle. Before I change my mind."
The big chap, to Spike's profound irritation, merely grinned, and waved at them both.
"Good hunting, my friends," he called over his shoulder as he patted led the little old man away to safety. Spike shook his head, disgusted by the whole debacle.
"You realise, Dru, that I have absolutely no sodding idea what all that was about?"
"Change, Spike. I just fancied a change," Drusilla said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss onto his cheek. He laced his fingers in hers and pulled her close for a proper kiss, and for a long moment they stood there like any courting couple. At last she stepped back and her smile was dazzling. "Come on, let's find some nice Americans."
When You Are Tired of London
Part Two: Dooooomed!
Giles had hated James ever since they were children. Giles had been the adventurer, the black sheep. James had been the goody-good, the snitch. When Giles was sneaking cigarettes in the woods, it was James who'd told on him. But eventually, Giles mellowed, and he became a responsible adult, a respected researcher for the British Museum and, unbeknownst to most, a member of the Watcher's Council, although James really knew no more about that than he did vampires, demonic possession or other-dimensional portals. James had become a dentist, and was a whiz at investing. He was steady and boring, all the qualities that Giles had hated about him as a child.
But as Giles matured, James had gone the other way. A steady stream of affairs led to an inevitable divorce, followed by a near-endless stream of alcohol, drugs, twentysomething-year-old models and never-ending parties. Whereas once Giles had hated him for being too square, now he hated him for being too childish. And that he had become immensely wealthy in the process didn't dispose Giles any better toward him.
Now, he was sitting in Giles' study, recounting a story about a ghostlike apparition that had appeared in his bedroom, spouting, "You are doomed! Dooooomed!!!! Dooooooomed!!!"
James told the story with appropriate hand gestures. Buffy was quite visibly having trouble restraining her laughter.
"And then," said James, winding down, "I thought about you."
"And pray tell, why was that?" asked Giles.
"Well, because of all the weird stuff you were into, back in the day. All the tarot cards, and the weird books, and the late night orgies."
"Did I hear orgies?" said Xander, entering the room with Willow, "finally, a case I can get in ... holy smokes! Giles has an evil twin!"
"I DO NOT HAVE AN EVIL TWIN!!!!" exclaimed Giles. Giles took a second to adjust his glasses. "Xander, Willow, this is my cousin, James. And it's only a passing resemblance."
"Right," said Buffy. "For one, he's got a fabulous earring."
"Oh," said James. "Do you like it? I picked it up at this marvelous little shop in Kensington."
"Really?" said Buffy. "Cause I could use a bracelet with those kind of stones."
"Oh yes," said James. "It's just the place."
"James," said Giles. "Please. Tell us more about your... ghost."
"Well, I don't know what to say, really," said James, nervously. "It appeared, and I thought perhaps I had had too much sherry."
"Heaven forbid," said Giles.
"And I promptly, uhm," James glanced nervously around the room, "hid under the covers until it went away. Which it did, but it returned the next night."
"Let me guess," said Giles. "It told you were doomed?"
"Doooomed!" said James, quite caught in the moment.
"Right," said Giles. "I see. Well, spirits of this sort really don't appear randomly. Have you ever seen any signs of a haunting before?"
James shook his head.
"Right," said Giles. "Have you killed someone?"
"What!?!?!” exclaimed James, "Rupert, I never!"
"All right, all right," said Giles. "Just eliminating all possibilities. You, uhm, haven't, have you?"
"No."
"Fine. Do you have any enemies? Living, dead, what have you?"
"None. I get along with everyone."
Giles produced then a stare that Buffy recognized quite well. It was the stare of someone has just said something ridiculously stupid.
"Well," said James. "My ex-wife did recently have a go at me with a knife."
Giles rubbed his forehead. Buffy seemed to be biting her lip to keep from laughing.
"What about your friends?" said Giles. "You still hanging around with the same gadabouts?"
"My mates?" said James. "Surely you don't suspect..."
"Not really, no," said Giles. "But I suppose they're worth investigating. Might give us a lead. Have you been dating anyone?"
"Well, one or two girls. You know, nothing deep."
"Never is, really. Would any of them&..." Giles didn't bother to finish the question. "Right, any number of them. All right. Here's the plan. Xander and Willow, I want you two to investigate James' flat, then when you're done, Willow will talk to James' ex-wife, and Xander will check in with his friend, Gary."
"We're on it like Jessica Fletcher," said Xander.
"Only younger, and cuter, and not leaving a trail of dead college friends wherever we go," said Willow.
"Good," said Giles. "Buffy, you'll interview his friend Terry, and I'll talk to Patrick. Then we'll converge and see what we can discover of his," Giles adopted a disgusted look, "liaisons."
"Are you sure that's a good idea," said James. "Sending a young lady alone to talk to Terry? I mean she..."
"Can drop kick him across the Channel from a stand," said Giles, dismissively. "You'll wait here, in relative safety. And you won't touch anything, do you understand me?"
James nodded.
"Good, said Giles. "We'll start in the morning. Xander, can you show him to a guest room?"
“You think it’s a good idea to leave him alone with a house of girls,” she asked.
“Faith’ll be back in the morning,” said Giles. “And we’ll leave instructions for her to kill him.”
“If he acts up.”
“Hmm? Oh, yes.”
They walked into the hall, and prepared to head to their rooms.
“Orgies, huh?”
“Let us never speak of it again.”
