Title:"Unfinished Business".
Part: 1/1
Author: 'A Gentleman Of Leisure'.
E-mail:
Summary: When someone rises from the dead, a certain amount of tidying up is usually necessary.
Story Type: In canon Buffyverse.
Rating overall: G.
Spoilers: Set early in S6.
Distribution/Archiving: Ask first please.
Disclaimer: No one here belongs to me - I've just borrowed them. All other Patents, Trademarks and Copyrights acknowledged. Thank you.

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"Unfinished Business" by 'A Gentleman Of Leisure' (c)2004

"What the Hell are you doing here, Spike?" Giles growled.

"It's a free country, innit? - supposedly. Anyway, don't they say great minds think alike? After all, we are the only two Englishmen in this town, and we ought to stick together, don't you think?"

"Wrong, Spike - I'm the only Englishman in this town. You merely have the somewhat dubious distinction of being the only English vampire in this town. And by the way, you're forgetting the second part of the saying - which is that "fools seldom differ".

"So, nothing like a middle-aged Englishman for making a fool of himself, then", said Spike smugly.

"Nothing like an ageing English vampire for doing much the same", replied Giles tartly.

"OK", said Spike, cheerfully, "so we're both fools. Now, do you want my help getting that gravestone out of the ground, or not?"

Giles scowled at the vampire standing smirking at him, and nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"So what were you thinking of doing with it? Giving it to Buffy as a souvenir? I doubt if she'd want it".

"Well, what were you thinking of doing with it, then?" Giles responded.

Spike shrugged.

"Hide it, stash it in my crypt, drop it in the sea - I don't know. I hadn't really decided".

Giles smiled.

"Well, you obviously haven't noticed", he said, "but there's a very simple way of disposing of it with a minimum of effort - if you bothered to use your eyes, or your imagination, Spike!"

"Oh yeah? And what's that, then?"

"There's a nice deep hole under that disturbed turf, and it's just waiting to be filled up with something. Buffy doesn't need, or want her tombstone any more, so I was proposing to simply drop it in there and cover it over. Once the ground has settled again no one will be any the wiser".

"Hey, good thinking, G-man! Let's go for it!"

Giles raised his eyes to Heaven briefly, but held his tongue.

Spike grabbed the granite slab and wrestled it loose, while Giles peeled back the grassy surface with a spade, to reveal the hole which Buffy had scrabbled desperately with her bare, bleeding hands, up to the surface from her coffin six feet down.

Spike hoisted the heavy stone free, and held it up for a moment.

"Any last words, Rupert?" he asked, grinning.

"None that I'm willing to share with you", Giles said quietly, "and if you call me Rupert again, I'll stake you here and now, and finish this job off without your help. After which all I'll need to dispose of your remains will be a clothes brush! Just you remember that!"

"Don't you forget you're not invulnerable either, Rupert!" Spike snapped. "I may not be able to kill you myself, but I've still got one or two friends in this town who owe me a favour!"

"Oh, do shut up and get a move on, Spike. It's late, and I'm getting older by the minute".

"Not a problem from where I'm standing!" Spike said brightly, and dropped the headstone into the hole with a heavy thud.

"Here, gimme the spade, old man", he continued. "I'm feeling full of beans tonight. Soon have all trace of our little disposal job neatly tidied away".

"Thank you, Spike", Giles said, suddenly sounding infinitely weary. He shook his head. "When we're finished here, I think I shall need a bloody large Scotch, possibly even two".

"You still got any of that Glenmorangie?"

Giles frowned and thought for a moment. He nodded.

"Well yes, I think I have - just over half a bottle, if I remember rightly. I've been saving it for a special occasion. It's extremely expensive stuff over here in America, you know, and on a Watcher's salary..."

"There you go again! Moan, moan, moan. Typical whingeing bloody Englishman!"

"Didn't I hear you just now claiming to be one of us?" said Giles acidly.

"Must have been your ears - you seem to have a serious hearing problem tonight. You didn't even hear me approaching, did you?"

Spike leaned on the spade handle and looked at him with that typical annoying smirk on his face again, head slightly tilted to one side. Then he frowned, and the sneering expression relaxed and faded.

"You seem to be in a really bad mood tonight, Rupert", he said quietly. "Buffy's second coming been a bit too much for an old man, has it? Well, it was a bit of a shock for me too, don't forget!"

"Oh, do put a sock in it, Spike. It's late and I'm tired, and when I get home I am going to get seriously drunk - so if you want to join me, just shut up and shovel!"

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The End