Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

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Chapter 21

Spike split up from Angel and Davey and headed for home. He still had the remains of the vodka with him and kept having a swig as he tottered along. Again he had trouble finding the lock with the key, he peered at it intently until finally the key found its place. He tripped up as he went in and giggled as he shut the door. He’d just got in his room and was sitting on his bed taking his boots off when he heard Rupert coming down the stairs.

“Spike? Are you home?” Rupert called, rapping gently on the door.

Spike quickly shoved the bottle under the bed and replied, “Yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

“Um, suppose so,” said Spike, trying to concentrate on acting sober.

The door swung open.

“You’re back very late,” said Rupert evenly.

Spike looked at his watch and then back at Rupert.

“Didn’t know I ‘ad a curfew.”

Rupert sighed, “You don’t, or rather you didn’t; but in the future you have to be home by eleven thirty. I’ve been worried.”

Spike bit back an angry retort and just settled for “Okay” in the hope that Rupert would leave his room.

Rupert looked at him a bit too carefully for Spike’s comfort.

“Good,” he said, “So what have you been doing until nearly one in the morning?”

“Just hanging out,” muttered Spike.

“Where? I know The Bronze closes at eleven thirty,” said Rupert.

Spike brought his head up sharply.

“Yer checking up on me?”

“I checked what time the place closed and I thought you’d be back soon afterwards. So where were you just ‘hanging out’?”

“The park,” replied Spike.

“Doing what?”

Spike stood up, he swayed a little but soon regained his balance and walked a couple of paces across the room.

“Just talkin’, that’s all. Tellin’ ‘em about England and about being smashed up in bleedin’ ‘ospital. Just trying to do wot yer want me to do, fit in; make friends,” shouted Spike.

“Okay,” said Rupert calmly, “No need to shout. I know it’s not easy for you.”

Spike sat down in the chair near his desk. He struggled to keep his emotions in check, his anger threatening to give way to tears. He looked at Rupert.

“I’m tired,” he said simply, holding his gaze.

“All right, I’ll leave you to it. We’ll do something tomorrow, okay? Go out for lunch or something.”

“Great,” said Spike with zero enthusiasm.

Rupert left his room and Spike heard him go back up to his bedroom. After a couple of minutes Spike went to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and having a wash. He looked at himself in the mirror, leaning forward until his forehead touched the cool glass. He closed his eyes and stood there for some time.

“God, I miss you, mom,” he whispered as tears fell down his cheeks.

He stood up, sniffed a few times, wiped his eyes and went to his room. He sat on the bed, leaned his head back against the wall and went to sleep.

Oooooo

For the second consecutive day Spike felt terrible when he woke up. It was still early and there was no sign of Rupert stirring yet. As he got up he knocked his watch off of the table at the side of his bed. He bent to pick it up but it had fallen under the bed. He felt for it with his hand but the first thing it touched was the vodka bottle. He pulled it out and looked at it thoughtfully. In his mind he could see his mom having her first drink of the day. She usually put it in her orange juice, convincing herself no doubt that it was only orange juice. Part of him screamed to throw it away, pour it down the sink but the thought of it dulling the pain he felt was just too strong to resist. He unscrewed the cap and pulled a face as he drank a mouthful. He put the cap back on and shoved the bottle beneath his bed once more, picked up his watch, placed it on the table and went for a shower.

By the time Rupert was up, Spike was dressed and starting to make breakfast for them both.

“Mornin’” he said when he saw Rupert.

“Good morning, you’ve been busy,” said Rupert, smiling at him.

“Breakfast won’t be long, kettle’s on for yer tea,” said Spike, putting some toast on the table.

“I could get used to this,” joked Rupert, reaching for one of two glasses of juice on the table.

Spike snatched the one he was reaching for.

“That’s mine, this is yours,” he said, pushing the other to Rupert, “Already drank some of it,” he added by way of explanation and he took another sip.

Oooooo

Once they’d eaten they left the apartment to go to explore the local area. Spike had to pretend he didn’t know it at all. Rupert pulled the car to a stop on a road that was lined with galleries and shops selling antiques and such like.

“Thought we could have a look around here, perhaps I’ll find something nice for the apartment?” said Rupert.

“Wot, like a new couch?” asked Spike with a grin. The one in the apartment was now avoided by both of them as it was so uncomfortable.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a painting or a statue,” replied Rupert.

Spike had never been to this part of town, his mom had no interest in the arts and since he never had any money he’d never bothered to look around. It was when they walked into the third shop, a small gallery selling artefacts from all over the world, that Spike got a bit of a shock - behind the counter was Buffy’s mom.

“Hello,” she said, “Please feel free to have a look around and just ask if you need any help.”

“Thank you,” said Rupert, “It looks like you have some interesting pieces.”

They were at the back of the shop when Spike heard Buffy.

“Where do you want this to go, Mom?” she asked, stepping out of the storeroom just in front of Spike.

“Bring it to the counter. It needs packaging up to be ready to be mailed out tomorrow,” came the reply.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she saw Spike standing there. She sidestepped him and went swiftly to the counter, putting the African mask she was carrying down then turning round to walk back to Spike. He smiled at her as she approached – great, this was his chance to talk to her properly.

“Hi, Buffy,” he said rather shyly.

“If you steal anything from here I’ll kill you,” she hissed when she got to him.

“Wot? I’d never do that,” he muttered.

“Oh? So that t-shirt just jumped into your hand yesterday, did it?”

“But….I didn’t…er…” stuttered Spike.

“Save it, but I’m warning you, you try to steal from my mom and I’ll make sure they know you stole stuff from the mall too.” She walked back to the counter, leaning on it and watching him intently.

Spike felt his face redden. He tried to carry on looking at things with Rupert but could feel her eyes burning into him.

“Um, I’ll wait outside,” said Spike to Rupert, “Need a bit of air.”

“Not surprised with you having that coat on all the time,” smiled Rupert.

Spike glanced at Buffy as he walked past. He thought about trying to talk to her but the look on her face put him off. He stalked outside.

“Sod it!” he cried, kicking at a bench then yelping as his toes stung with pain.

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