Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike: Spike's Secret Valentine
Word Count: 705
Date Written: 6 February 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
He lingers as the others file pass him watching from dark, veiled eyes as the Watcher goes alone to his desk. Rupert Giles sees so much and yet also so little. He can’t see the very bloke standing in the shadows watching him as he picks up the single red rose and lifts it to his nose. His lips brush the petals, and something unexpected shivers through Spike.
He touches his tongue to his fangs, reminding himself of what he is. He shouldn’t even be spending time hanging with these pansies. He shouldn’t be saving the world. Yet he is, and it’s no longer because of Drusilla. He can tell himself it’s to keep the little Happy Meals walking and feeding him, but he knows that’s a lie too.
It’s not even the Slayer who keeps his attention these days. She’s happy with her military puppy, and he’s happy for her. She’s endured and sacrificed so much. She deserves to be happy. But what of the others? Red’s got her little Witch friend now, and Xander has a lover who used to be a Demon. In her own way, Anya’s a former Big Bad too, but for some reason Spike can not quite fathom, she’s become crazy about the Zeppo. Dawnie’s growing and happy, but in the midst of all their joy, the children can’t see the sad, silent soldier amongst them.
They can’t see him, but Spike does. He sees the sorrow so often in the depths of his eyes that aren’t quite hidden by his spectacles. He sees the toll the years and their disappointments are taking on him. He smells the sorrow wafting off of him whenever he thinks of Jenny, and damn it, if he doesn’t want to make the chap just a little bit happy!
He watches now as Rupert lowers his gaze to the note left beneath the rose. The old human’s eyes dart over the cursive handwriting, taking note of the name and the words. That’s right, Watcher, Spike thinks as he observes his surprise. Some of us do see you. He slips out into the night, the only sound noting his departure the single ring of the bell on the Magic Box’s door as it closes behind him.
Left alone, Giles’ eyes flash to the door. He’s closed, and he’d thought he was alone. Yet he already knows who was there. His eyes drop back to the note. Ripper, is written across the top. There are only three people still in his life who might call him by that old name. One could never venture into his shop without his knowledge, not with all the wards he has set up, and another hasn’t been to check on Buffy in quite some time now. That only leaves the one who just slipped out into the night where he belongs.
“Hmp,” Rupert murmurs in surprise, touching the blood red bud to his nose and lips again. He and Spike had never enjoyed that quiet, calm cup of tea while the Vampire had stayed with him although they had bonded over a few other things like Passions. Maybe it is time Rupert invite him back over for that cup of tea and maybe a marathon of their favorite soap, or maybe the loneliness is just beginning to get to him. It is Valentine’s Day after all, a day notorious for making single men feel especially awkward and lonely.
He reads the little verse again. Sometimes the most brilliant star is the one nobody sees, but while you’re guiding the stars, Watcher, I’m watching you. Or maybe, just maybe, it is simply nice to know that he is noticed after all. He smells the rose, his mind awhirl with possibilities, but takes no further action. Spike is still a Vampire after all, and unlike his charge, he’s not going to make the same mistake of being the first Watcher to fall in love with the very things they’re supposed to guide their charges to stake -- at least, not out in the open. But nobody, not even his watcher, will ever know of the things, and the men, of which he dreams.