Chapter 23

“I think they want to lock up!” Anya said to Giles.

“What – oh, oh r-right…well…er, back to mine th-then?”

“Okay” Anya nodded, and finished her drink.

Rupert went and fetched their coats, and called them a cab. He’d only had three drinks all night, and knew that he would more than likely suffer from ‘performance anxiety’ because of the previous night, despite what Anya said, so he’d gone and got himself some ‘insurance’.

Several of the little blue triangular pills with a ‘V’ on the front  would help nature along if the flesh were weak. Not that he’d let her see him take one though. He thought that he could do that in the bathroom, and hopefully during the foreplay, ‘things’ would kick in and he’d be fine this time. To suffer impotence twice would mean that he’d never be able to look Anya in the face again; that was if she’d even allow him to!

They got back to Rupert’s place, and Anya made herself comfortable on the sofa.

“Nightcap?”

“Please.”

“Cognac?”

“Fine.”

He poured them both a cognac, and sat close next to her, turning sideways  to face her. They talked easily, and Giles had begun to stroke her hand. It was Anya’s turn to feel a little nervous.

If things didn’t work out this time, could they even salvage their friendship afterwards? All thoughts left her head as Giles began to kiss her. When she eventually broke the kiss, she looked at him.

“Shall we…go make ourselves more comfortable?”

She allowed Giles to gently lead her by the hand and take her upstairs.

*************

“Oh, hello love, I er, I wonder if you can help me?”

Willow looked at the middle-aged man. She couldn’t see a delivery van anywhere, so guessed he hadn’t brought the new washing machine.

“Does a Mr Chuck Summers live here – or used to?” This was an old ploy. Pluck any first name out of a hat and use it. If the people know who you meant, they'd immediately correct you and give the proper name. Worked almost every time.

“Sorry, no. No one of that name here.” She went to close the door.

“Hold up love – are you sure – I’m after Buffy’s dad. This is where Buffy lives, isn’t it?”

“Look, who are you? What do you want?”

“Told you love-“

“I’m not your love, stop calling me that!”  Willow was very relieved to see Oz’s hand-painted, psychedelic, flower-power VW van pull up on the driveway.

“I’m sorry miss, only I need to speak to Buffy’s father see, and-“

Oz cut the engine and jumped out.  “You okay Will?” He could see Willow looking very uncomfortable, wringing her hands.

“Yes! Yes, I’m um…-“

“What do you want, mate?” Oz turned to the scruffy man.

“I’m looking for Buffy’s father.”

“Her father? Well, you’ve come to the wrong place. He's never lived here.”

“Could you tell me his name?” the guy asked Oz.

“No. Now if you don’t mind please go. Buffy hasn’t heard from her father since she was about nine, when she moved here from LA – now please go.”

“But..."

“But nothing, GO, before I call the police!”

The man held up his hands in the recognized ‘I surrender’ pose.  “Okay, okay, no need for that…are you sure that...“

Oz gently pushed Willow inside and he closed the door with a mighty slam.

“Right then…back to square one,” the guy said to himself and ambled back to his parked car.

Willow and Oz watched from behind the lounge curtains.  “Has he gone?” she whispered.

“No…and why are you whispering, he can’t hear you!”

“What’s he doing now?”

“Well,  he’s sitting in his car opposite, making a phone call, I think…I can see his lips moving anyway.”

“I wonder who he was…oh god, what if her dad owes money, and he’s trying to get it out of Buffy?” Willow said nervously.

“No. He’s got journalist written all over him,” Oz said.

“He has?” Willow sounded surprised.

“Well, not literally of course, but who else would come here, looking for a guy that’s never lived here, and didn’t even know his name? He’s a journalist, looking for a story, trust me.”

“Golly, you're clever! Oh god...do you think I ought to tell her?”

“What, why? No, don’t worry her. Anyway, why would he contact her now, after all this time?”

“Oz, he already has.”

“What – when?”

“Yesterday morning. But he phoned the record company a while or so ago when he found out she’d won the talent contest.”

“What a bastard…all that trouble she went to trying to find him when her mom died…and because she’s won a competition, he pops up outta nowhere” Oz said, shaking his head in disgust. Willow was ‘rubber-necking out of the window, trying to see what the guy was doing sitting in his car, when the van from  ‘Powerhouse’ pulled up, blocking her view.

“Oh, oh! The washing machine is here – open the basement door would you, I’ll let the guy in.” The doorbell rang and the delivery man checked it was the right address, and waved to his friend to get the new machine.

Willow saw the man drive away, and again she wondered whether or not to tell Buffy about him or not.

***************

“Oh – God, Yes! Ooooohhhhh!” Anya’s rigid body suddenly went limp, and Giles collapsed on top of her, they were both panting. Giles grinned down at her and kissed her lightly.

“Wow, I………hoo - god, that was worth waiting for!” Anya gasped.  **My god, super-stud or WHAT!** Jenny had been so right. He was still on top of her, still hard!

“Had enough, my little tigress?”

Anya grinned and bucked up her hips.  “I haven’t, if you haven’t!”

Giles thrust his hips forward, giving her an almighty prod, setting her eyes rolling.  “Me love? I’ve barely even started!” he bragged, setting a hard fast thrusting pace that had Anya trying to catch her breath.

“Hello, kitten!”

“Hi, I got your message. I read it at nearly four o’clock this morning!”

“Four o’clock – good grief!”

“Oh, I didn’t go out. I woke for the bathroom!”

“I was going to say! – so, pet, what’s first on the agenda today?”

“Elevenses with Ellen, then straight from there over to the Fun Factory to do the kids show at lunchtime.”

“I see.”

“What time did you get in last night?”

“Not too late, I got home about twenty past eleven. I was nearly at Xander’s place when my mobile beeped to say I’d got a message. Anyway, he stayed at mine.”

“Did he, why? Was he drunk?”

“No, nothing like that, we didn’t drink we were working. His mum and dad were re-enacting the Battle of the Alamo or something, and so I said for him to stay at mine.”

“God, how awful! He really IS going to have to get a place of his own. Harmony said something about she can’t wait to see it, she’ll start to get suspicious if he doesn’t find somewhere soon.”

“I told him that. That’s where he is right now, today, flat hunting – top priority.”

“Good. I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too, kitten – oh, hell...sorry babe, I must go. It’s a little chaotic here with Cordy out and Xander too, and the blasted phone keeps ringing. Ring me later, good luck, sweetheart...bye.”

“Okay, then. Bye baby, speak later.”

Spike picked up the phone on Cordelia’s desk.  “Hello………who?………Never heard of him, sorry!… What, oh, well never heard of her, either, try the switchboard” Spike threw the receiver down.  There was a knock at the door, and Harmony poked her head around it.

“Hi Spike, have you seen Xander?”

“He’s flat- um, f-flat, flat broke! Yeah, he...um, he’s gone to the bank or something, he needs some cash. Tried his mobile?” Spike had his back to her and his eyes screwed up from his near faux pas.

“Yeah, but he’s switched off.”

He turned to face her shrugging.  “Oh well, you know what they are like in these places. If I see him, shall I give him a message for you?”

“No, it’s ok – I’m going shopping, that’s all.”

“Right-o, I’ll tell him.” Harmony shut the door  Spike’s desk phone rang and he picked up.   “Spike Carling.”

“Spike, it’s me.”

“Oh hi, Xander. Look, I just had Harmony in here looking for you. I nearly gave the game away, but I think I covered, I said you were flat broke and had gone to the bank.”   

“Right. Now, would you say $1000 a month was excessive for a two-bedroom flat in Norwood?”

“Norwood? – Which end, the multi-plex cinema end, or the other end, by the rail tracks?”

“Sort of in the middle. It’s got front garage parking and a rear garden. It looks nice enough, want to come over and look at it with me?”

“Erm…lunchtime?”

“Hold on, I’ll just check………yeah, the agent says 12.45, that ok with you?”

“I’ll be there, what number?”

“1213-B Del Rio Drive.”

“Right, ‘kay then mate, see you there.”

Spike sat behind his computer to catch up with some work, his phone going off all morning. He checked his watch, it was 12.10, he’d work another ten minutes, and then go to meet Xander. His phone rang for the umpteenth time that morning.   “Hello, Spike Carling……… hello … hello … Spike Carling’s office…oh, suit yourself!” As he got no answer, he threw the receiver down, and logged off on his computer.

******************

Cecily came back into the dressing room rest area tying her silk robe around her, before collapsing in a chair.  “Dru, what are you doing, who are you phoning – be a love and get me a ciggie, would pet?”

Dru threw down the phone like a scalded cat.  “Nothing! N-no-one! Um, cigarettes, right, are – are they in your purse ……… here you are.”

“Uh huh…Ta………pass me the wet-wipes too please…I’m all gunky from the lube…” Dru did as she was asked, after lighting Cecily’s cigarette.   “So, the guys were just asking if I wanted to go to a rave tonight, want to come? – It’ll be fun.”

“Um…I don’t know…I don’t think so” Dru sat opposite her friend.

“Oh come on…you’re getting boring again, and you know how much you enjoyed yourself when we went out the other night!” Cecily cajoled. Truth was, Dru could have been playing wallflower and sitting in the corner crying all night for all that Cecily remembered of the evening.

“I’ll see” Dru said, tracing the pattern on the worn tabletop.

Cecily shrugged.   “Well, s’up to you, I’m going though.”

“TIME, CECILY!” somebody on-set called.

Cecily rolled her eyes, flicked ash and took another quick drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out.   “Fuckin’ ‘ell, give us a chance to ‘ave a decent cig, we’re not THAT far behind filming after the time we stayed last night!” She undid her robe and threw it over the chair, walking back on-set naked.

Dru looked at the phone wistfully, sighed. She’d heard his voice! She then picked up the nearly full ashtray and began to tidy up.

***************

“Yeah…yeah, it's fine, mate. Needs a lick of paint – but it’s handy for the studios and quiet…nice garden…who does the garden by the way?” Spike turned and asked the letting agent.

“Oh don’t worry about that. They have a gardener come in twice a week.”

“Right... so how much did you say?”

“The rent is $1000 per calendar month.”

“First month free, and we’ll do the decorating?” Spike asked hopefully.

The letting agent smiled.  “Okay, I think that will be acceptable. Oh, there is a no-pets policy.”

“Did you hear that Xander, you wouldn’t be able to bring the giraffe and your Bengal tiger!”

“Ha-ha, he’s a comedian – take no notice... so when do I sign?” Xander asked.

“Um... we can go back to the office and sign right now. It’s three months rent in advance, will that be okay?”

“Fine.”

“That’s just two months money, marked up as three months. He’s buying the paint,” Spike reminded the agent.

“Right, that’s fine, don’t worry I’ve made a note. So...are you or your, um, partner going to sign?”

“Partner? – There’s only me.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought...sorry!”

The letting agent left to go and sit in the car while Spike and Xander had another look around.

“Did she think…well, do we look gay or something?” Xander looked a little worried.

“What?  Don’t be silly…now, ducky – I suggest cream walls in here, and I’d like pink for the bedroom!” Spike said in a really camp voice.

Xander laughed and swatted Spike on the arm.  “Shut up!”

Spike laughed and said,  “Will you be okay for the advance rent AND furnishing the place and that?”

“Yeah. Single bloke and no social life, I’ve got a bit put by.”

“Well, I was thinking, as there’s a cooker built in, you’ll only need a fridge and a microwave in the kitchen, you have a bed at home I presume, and you can always pick up a couple of those leather sofa’s from the storage basement at work. They might be a bit grubby, but nothing a good clean and a throw over them won’t cure, they’ll be fine. I’ve got a coffee table you can have, and a bookcase, the rest you can get over time.”

“Oh, this is fantastic! I can’t wait to move in!” Xander beamed.  “Only thing is…I need somebody to do the decorating, and soon.”

“Leave it to me!”

Just over an hour later, Xander had put down the deposit and had even gone and bought huge tins of Magnolia paint.

*************************

“Little horrors – I understand what Harmony meant about working with children or animals now!” Buffy said, but she didn’t sound cross.

“Lucky you had enough time to go back to the hotel and change then!”

“I had to shower, too. The crazy-foam dried all sticky! Oh, and I’ve had an invitation to dinner tonight, Kay Deno himself – which I declined, I hasten to add.”

“You watch yourself, pet, he’s a renowned womaniser!”

“Well he can womanize someone else, I’m spoken for!”

Spike chuckled, and said,  “You sure are. Anyway, good news!” then told her about Xander’s new flat.

“Wow!”

“And I’ve got the maintenance man from here, Charlie, he’s going to paint it tomorrow and Thursday, so he could be in by the weekend!”

“Great. Hmm…roll on Friday. I can’t wait to see you!”

“I know, babe, I miss you too. You take care tonight, and watch that Kay. He’s a great one for asking the ladies back for a nightcap and that.”

“No. no nightcaps for me, I promise.”

“Well, I’ll speak to you tomorrow, kitten – enjoy dinner.”

“I’ll be thinking about you.”

“Good! Bye then, sugar.”

“Bye, baby.”

Spike put the phone down, and looked up at a very grubby Xander who had just come into the office, grinning.  “Bloody hell, where have you been? – In the coal hole?” Spike asked.

“I’ve been in the storage basement…I’ve got two two-seater leather couches, three sets of shelving, and remember that old swivel black-leather rocking chair of Sweet’s – I got that too! Charlie is going to clean them all up for me and take them over to the flat!”

Spike smiled at his friend and said, “Have you asked Sweet if it’s okay to have them?”

“No, but apparently, he told Maintenance they could all go to the tip, so don’t suppose he’ll mind if I have them!”

“Nevertheless, just mention it to him, you know?  Just in case” Spike suggested.

“Yeah ok. So, what are we doing tonight, more band spotting?”

“Could do…bring Harmony if you want.”

“Yeah? – Okie dokie then!”

“But Xand, remember, don’t keep going on about the flat...it isn’t new to you as far as Harmony’s concerned.”

“Yeah right – good thinking – I’ll see you here at what, seven?”

“Make it half-past?”

“Right, later then, I’d better go home shower and change.”

******************

“Ah ha…what have we here, then?…looks promising…Henry ‘Hank’ Summers, born Carlsbad, LA, 5^th September 1958... married Joyce Elizabeth-Anne Wilkinson born 18^th May 1959 on the 7^th of April 1980...blah, blah, blah...divorced through to decree absolute 19^th December, 1990. Well, THAT was a nice Christmas present…Um, one child, Elizabeth Anne Summers, born January 6^th 1984 – okay, let me check Buffy’s birthday…January the 6^th, 1984! Bingo – Houston we have lift off!” The man wrote down all the information he’d found out, and left the library, taking out his cell-phone as he made his way to his car. He called up ‘menu’ and pressed a number, after a few rings, it was answered.

“Willy, that you? - It’s me, look, I’ve got it, all the info you want.”

“Good... sure it’s right?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure. I cross referenced and everything, all the dates fit.”

“Good. Come to the club, I’ll see you by the fire doors. Come after five but before six o’clock, okay? Ring me when you get here, and I’ll come down to you.”

“Will do. You promise me I’ll get the exclusive scoop on this when it goes down?”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise – now remember, after five but before six, the boss goes home for a shower then.”

“Right – oh, and Willy…put a bottle of that decent Scotch aside for me, will you?”

Willy rolled his eyes and said in a bored voice,  “Yes.”

The line went dead. The man smiled to himself – this had been so easy in the end, and he’d get a nice exclusive banner headline story from it...and a bottle of Scotch!