The melancholy words drift out, filled with longing and resignation. Spike knows the song of course, but he’s filled with sudden panic when Giles sings about leaving and moving on.
He eases the door open and stares at the back of Giles’ head, bent over the guitar, forcing himself to keep his distance. It’s not easy. Over a century of gratifying whims is a hard habit to break and he wants Giles. Needs him.
He moves forward, schemes forgotten, about to speak – and Giles squeaks and whirls around. There’s shock in his eyes and no welcome. And another door closes.
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