The two men sat in a darkened corner of a quiet, old pub in Surrey. Spike smoked. Giles bought them round after round of ale. Together they mourned and celebrated.
"Why are we mourning?" Giles asked broodily at one point. "She's happy. Married to a good man. Can have a normal family, a normal life."
"Waste," Spike muttered, staring into his glass. "Slayer's too too..." He lapsed into silence and gulped his beer.
"She looked happy," Giles stressed.
"Married a git."
"Brandon is a good man. An engineer, making a good living, from a good family, home owner."
"A poodle," Spike interrupted. "Brandon and Buffy. God, what a disaster. B and B, a bed and breakfast." He clunked his forehead down on the table.
Giles snickered against his will and downed the rest of his ale. "I don't know why I agreed to come here with you. You always get me pissed and make me say and do things I regret."
Lifting a bleary eye to his companion, Spike muttered, "What other purpose is there to getting pissed? And I haven't made you do anything."
"The night's still young," Giles said darkly and gestured to the waitress for another round.
Several beers later, they'd progressed to the maudlin stage, and Giles was babbling about Buffy's good points, how he thought of her as a daughter, how proud he was of her, until Spike wanted to stab his cigarette into the Watcher's eye. The urge passed quickly as the image of Buffy in white--hypocrite--made him feel all gooey inside. "She looked like a candy confection," he burbled.
"Whaa?"
"Buffy, white, fluffy Buffy with cunt muscles like a steel trap."
"I really don't want to hear that," Giles scolded, appalled.
"Should be proud. You trained her."
"Not at that!"
Spike managed to lift his head to one palm, "Fuck, she was good."
"Stop that, stop that now!"
Spike snickered and downed more beer.
Much, much later, the bartender finally booted them out so he could close, and they staggered down the lane towards the country house hotel in which the wedding had been held. Giles stumbled and Spike caught him, pushing him back to his feet and wrapping one arm around his waist.
"Come on, mate, you're knackered."
"My baby got married," Giles babbled. "Celebrating."
"Mourning."
"Whatever." Suddenly Giles' eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth. Pulling away from Spike, he stumbled towards the hedgerow where he was violently sick. Spike watched him without interest and smoked another cigarette as the Watcher heaved up everything he'd eaten all day, including wedding cake and several packages of cheese and onion crisps.
"Oh god, kill me now," Giles muttered, staggering back to where Spike stood in the middle of the deserted lane. The Watcher looked even more pasty than normal.
"Your breath smells like death," Spike complained, waving a hand in front of his face.
Giles managed one weakly arched eyebrow at the irony which made Spike roll his eyes and dig in his pockets for one of the wrapped mints from the wedding.
"Well, at least that cleared my head somewhat." Giles sucked on the mint Spike gave him, working on getting his legs back under him. "I know better than to go drinking with you."
"Oh sure, blame the innocent vampire."
"Oxymoron."
"Don't call me a moron."
Giles clouted Spike across the ear and started back down the lane. "That's what you get for going to Cambridge and not Oxford--an inferior education."
"I heard all you did at Oxford was get stoned, mess around with magic, and diddle anything in a skirt...and some in trousers."
Flushing, Giles shot Spike a look over his shoulder and waited for him to catch up. "Did you diddle anything in college? There was a rumor that William the Bloody was a virgin..."
"Want to die, Watcher?" Spike shot back with a scowl on his face.
Giles chuckled and wrapped his arm around his companion's trim waist beneath the ever-present duster. "Well, you're certainly not a virgin now."
Stopping them, Spike leaned over and sniffed Giles' breath then kissed that breath away. "Wanna play one when we get back to our room?"
"I'm exhausted, drunk, and maudlin."
"So? I'll be really gentle," Spike teased, nearly bouncing out of his shoes as the night started to look up.
"I can always just lie there," Giles sighed. "Let you have your wicked way with me."
"Neat."
End