"What happened is I have to have some very serious words with Dru about what she dumps into my crypt when I'm not home and she's in a pissy mood."
"I don't understand."
Giles paused, thinking about what he really wanted to eat. Steak came to mind, a very rare, juicy steak. He thought of burying his teeth into the meat, sucking up the juices, the taste of hot blood-- He started to lick his lips, and his tongue found fangs. "Oh, my god."
Spike relaxed slightly. "And the penny drops. Now we get to find out what the luck of the demon draw gave you."
"Oh, god. I'm--I've been--"
"Say the word, ex-Watcher."
"Vampire. I'm a vampire."
Horror, guilt, rage. Disgust that he was now one of the creatures he and his ancestors had pledged their lives to eradicate. He remembered now, hearing the swish of cloth in the Magic Box, turning to see the beautiful face of mad Drusilla, who was standing far too close to him. "Your soul burns," she whispered, gliding towards him. "Let me bathe in it." He'd been caught in the middle of the room, she closer to him than he was to any weapons. He knew the dangers of her eyes, tried to keep from looking, but she'd caught his wrist and he'd had some foolish idea that he could distract her with words. And maybe it was a little bit of arrogance. He was a Watcher, after all, and he'd been ganged up on and tortured before, when he fell for her.
Whatever, it had happened, he couldn't break her grip, he met her eyes, and something in him answered the wild chaos he saw in her. He hadn't even fought as she pulled him down.
Memories of his oaths told him to beg Spike to shoot, to finish this mockery of his existence. But. But. He realized he didn't hurt anywhere. A man who had taken as many injuries as he had did have a tendency to have aches and pains. And for the first time in years, his hands didn't hurt. The arthritis that had plagued him since Angelus had broken his fingers was gone. He flexed his hands and wrists--as well as he could with his arms bound so tightly--and the joints moved fluidly. He twisted his neck and didn't hear a single click in his spine. And he felt strong.
Spike put the crossbow--still cocked, still pointed in Giles' direction--carefully on the floor and reached for his cigarettes. "Starting to feel it, aren't you. The new you."
"I feel ..."
"Strong. Young. Powerful."
"I was younger than you when I was turned. I imagine it feels even better for you."
"I don't hurt."
"Feels good, doesn't it."
"I feel wonderful--no, this isn't right . . ."
"Don't fight it, mate. The old you is gone." There was more than a little sympathy in his voice. "She at least asked me if I was willing, and she was there when I woke up, to help me out. Well, her and Angelus--"
"Don't mention him."
"Sure thing. Hey, we could do a road trip to LA later when you feel up to it." He laughed at the cunning look that went across Giles' face.
Giles shifted position uncomfortably, chains clinking. "Get these off me."
"Not yet, mate."
He glared at Spike. "I'm not your type."
The grin made him nervous. "You have no idea what my type is, new boy. There may be all sorts of rituals involved in becoming a vamp that you Watchers know nothing of. Establishing a pecking order and all that."
"You're not my type."
"And you the product of the British public school system."
Giles stared at Spike, trying to read the amused look on the vampire--the other vampire's face. He sat there smoking peacefully, enjoying his captive's predicament. Nothing in any of the reports hinted at any really--exotic tastes on Spike's behalf, but Watchers could be a prudish bunch, and not many studies had been done on the sexual preferences of vampires--beyond knowing they tended toward the frequent. He shook himself, appalled that he was even thinking of such things. And he noticed that the appalled was more the knee-jerk of old thinking. Another part of his mind was just going "Hm ..."
"So what are the chains for?" he asked calmly. "Or is it just part of your normal technique for getting to know someone?"
The cigarette hit the wall in a shower of sparks. "Just what the hell did she tell you!"
"What? What are you talking about? What she?" he asked suspiciously.
"Never mind." Spike stood up to pace. "New vamps are unpredictable. Didn't know if you'd be nuts or violent or what. Might have tried for me."
"And so the crossbow."
"So the crossbow."