Aphrodite and the Lost Scribe by Winsomeone

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Chapter 13: Searching for Perfection

Chapter 13-Searching for Perfection

Standing alone with no direction
How did I fall so far behind?
Why am I searching for perfection?
Knowing it's something I won't find.
-Linkin Park
-No Roads Left

Professor Emeritus Rupert Giles, previously of Cambridge University, currently residing in Bath, was still an imposing figure. He was tall, with wide shoulders, white hair at the temples and a small paunch cleverly hidden by a well cut suit. He strode through the airport cutting a swath through the travelers in the concourse as though they were freshmen lit majors.

“Ahh William, you look quite well. Olivia wished for me to embrace you. However I told her that I wanted to retain at least a shred of dignity and would merely extend my hand. However, upon seeing you, I seem to have changed my mind.” He grinned and clasped the smaller man in a tight bear hug.

Spike laughed. Since his talk with Buffy, he was in an extraordinarily good mood. And he loved the old man almost as much as his own father. “It's so good to see you, Professor. How are the fair Olivia and the grandkids? Anne emailed me that she had popped another one out. It sounds like you finally have a grandson?”

Rupert swelled with pride. Having married late in life, it was a wondrous miracle to him that he even had a family. “He's a wondrous addition to the family, although he's been given the unfortunate moniker of Rupert. His mother and grandmother pressed quite a few photographs on me, and made me promise to show you all of them. Oh, and William? You must not tell Olivia that I did as she asked. I absolutely have to keep up the appearance of being in charge or all is lost.” He winked.

Spike laughed harder.

After picking his friend up from the airport the two men came back to the cottage. Rupert produced some single malt whisky. They chose to sit on the cottage porch to enjoy the mild California evening. Their only illumination was a small shaded light and the stars overhead. The surf breaking over the rocks the only sound that could be heard.

The Professor sipped from his drink and cleared his throat. “I saw that unfortunate photo from your accident again. For some unknown reason, it was linked to an article I was researching on the internet.”

Spike shook his head and sighed. “Before that picture, I was known as a decent man and a fairly decent writer. Now I'll always be that insane drunk who ran a car into the Brevard Yacht Club swimming pool.”

He looked over at his oldest friend and mentor. “Lindsey came to that big discussion with me that Lilah set up, you know, the intervention thing.” He grimaced. “She called Mickey and Mickey called Lindsey and both of them hopped planes. Sybil was nine months pregnant and Lindsey was on a book tour in Maine. I was too far gone at that point to be embarrassed. Later I was so grateful that I had people who cared about me.”

Rupert took another sip. “How is Lindsey? Still penning those appalling pot boilers? When you were both students, I knew Lindsey would either write about murders or commit them. I couldn't really decide which.”

Spike snickered. “Those 'appalling pot boilers' have helped him purchase a fifteen room chateau in the south of France.”

Rupert sniffed. “Well, it is France.”

Spike laughed and wagged his finger at Rupert. “His latest book is set in an evil law firm. He told me that he actually went undercover for a couple weeks masquerading as a lawyer.”

He spoke thoughtfully. “Even as far back as when we were both students in your class at Cambridge, there was one thing I always admired about Lindsey. He's always known exactly who he is. He's never had a moment of self doubt in his entire life. That's a rare quality.”

The Professor disagreed. “Lindsey is a charming albeit shallow man. He has never understood that one must go through periods of self examination. It is important for growth of the soul. To quote Socrates, 'the unexamined life is not worth living'. However, you, William, have the rare dual gifts of both emotional depth and introspection. You live, learn and love to the very depths of your being. It's what has made you the finest writer I've had the pleasure to have taught in my lifetime. It's also your curse. That depth of feeling is why Drusilla could manipulate you so well and it's why you find yourself with your current problems.”

“You're probably right. It was because of Dru leaving me that I took up with Cecily.”

He lit another cigarette. “Are you ready to hear the real story, the one that's not circulating around the internet?”

The Professor could see that Spike was finally ready to discuss the pivotal moment that had caused his final fall and the beginning of his rehabilitation. He wanted to help his former protégé, if only by listening, so he poured another drink and settled back.

Spike began. “I had been dating Cecily Carrington, of the Connecticut and Hampton Beach Carringtons, for about two months.”

He glanced over at the professor and grinned. “Those aren't my words. That's how she always introduced herself. Anyway, that day Cecily and I attended a pool party with the usual clique. I was drunk before we even got there and Cecily had been snorting a lot of cocaine. Her ex showed up at the party. I didn't think anything about it, or maybe I just didn't care.”

He shrugged. “I didn't care about much at that point. Later that night, after the party, we were supposed to meet a bunch of her friends at the Yacht Club for dinner. On the way, she started talking about how her ex used to let her wear his super bowl ring when they were in bed. How she got off on it. How wonderful he made her feel. Then she started saying how courageous he was, like some superhero.

He grimaced. “He was a sodding football player, Rupert, not Ulysses and a has been football player with bad knees at that. Anyway she started saying how writers weren't brave, that she'd never heard of any courageous writers at all.”

He looked over at the older man, a wry smile on his face. “Like it's not frightening to look down at a blank screen.”

Spike lit a cigarette and continued. “I had been drinking for two days straight at that point and I was suddenly furious. I said something brilliant about football players not being smart enough to be scared.

She challenged me to do something courageous, to prove I was a man. Those were her words exactly. “Prove you're a man.” Said she didn't expect me to really do anything because I was beneath her and all her friends. I was nothing to her. I was just a bloody awful writer and a writer could never be a real man.

At that point, I finally blew up and yelled at her, telling her I was a man. At that moment I hated her. We turned into the parking lot at the Yacht Club.

I told her I'd show her who was a man alright. I was driving her expensive piece of crap car, so I pointed it right at the gate to the pool area and floored the accelerator. The car rammed the gate and sailed on through. When we hit the raised edge of the pool the car flipped and we landed upside down. Cecily wasn't wearing her seatbelt and she flew out of the car and into the water. I was trapped in the car, but I managed to escape and surface.”

He looked down at his hands. “Stupid bitch couldn't swim. Isn't that insane? Her family builds and races yachts and the stupid girl never learned to swim.

When I surfaced I saw Cecily floating facedown in the water. I was still really drunk and still furious and I refused to even try to help her. Some man jumped in and pulled her out. People were gathering and someone called 911. The paramedics showed up and they finally managed to revive her.

Cecily's parents were standing there. Her mum fainted and her da just kept staring at me. Rupert, I've never seen anyone look at me the way he did. They both thought she was dead. I did, too. At that point, I really didn't care. I had become a monster.”

Swallowing a drink of his scotch,Spike took a deep breath and continued. “The emergency call alerted the media. Of course, they arrived in time to capture everything. The police arrested me for drunk driving, attempted vehicular manslaughter, malicious mischief, property damage, all sorts of charges.

You saw the stories in the tabloids and on TV. Whispers alone ran front page stories about me for a month straight. Their photographer was the one that got the best picture. That's the money shot on the internet.

A truly memorable picture of me soaking wet and staggering drunk, with my hands cuffed behind my back, screaming at a reporter while being led to a patrol car. That particular view of my 'big bad' side was sold to all the international news outlets and of course all the magazines.”

He blanched. “Lilah bailed me out of jail. She had to call in Charles Gunn, a top attorney. He concocted that story about the stupid bet and managed to get everything except the drunk driving charge dropped.

I had to pay damages to the Yacht Club and make a 'donation'. I plea bargained the drunk driving charge. Mickey and Lindsey vouched for my character. First time offense I didn't get any jail time. Instead we had that lovely little confab and they dispatched me off to rehab to dry out and learn to atone for my sins. They chose the best place in the country. It was a little plush for my taste, but Dr. Walsh has a world wide reputation.”

He lit another cigarette. “She really did help me regain my sanity and tame the monster in me. Although I suspect I shall be visiting her for a long time to come.”

Spike sighed. “Cecily Carrington is a mean, self absorbed, shallow bitch and a bad lay.”

Rupert said softly “However….”

“Yeah, she's still a human being and in a drunken rage I almost killed her and I just didn't care, or even understand why it should really matter.”

Rupert placed his hand on the shoulder of the wounded man he loved like a son. The distress rolled from him in waves. “William, you know you must let go of this guilt, it's in the past. It's not in you to be that person anymore.”

“Dr. Walsh told me the same thing during therapy." Spike smiled briefly."She said I needed to make amends to myself. All the out of control drinking and craziness was a sort of nervous breakdown. That it was all because I wanted Dru and could never have her again. That's why I couldn't write. It was a way of punishing myself. I believe she was right. When Cecily said that I wasn't a man, it was Dru I was really hearing.”

Looking at him intently, Rupert asked “Have you seen Drusilla?”

“Yeah, actually I saw her just before I left for this trip. We ran into each other in a restaurant.”

“What did you feel?”

“Absolutely nothing, it was over.” He smiled wanly. “All it took for me to get over Drusilla Parker was the loss of my muse, a nearly tragic accident with the attendant bad publicity, serious legal issues, and two hundred thousand dollars worth of ongoing therapy.”

He ran his hand through his hair and shrugged. Putting a good face on, he said, “Come on Professor. All of this soul searching and chest bearing has given me quite the appetite. I'll make us some ham and cheese omelets.”

He looked closely at Rupert. “Olivia still has you on that low fat diet? Yeah? Well, it'll just be our little secret.”

He grinned and suddenly looked like the old William. “I mean, it's not the only secret this trip, what with the hugging and all.”

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