“ Its…its…what the hell is it?” Buffy spluttered as she looked at the screwed up, red-like-a-prune thing.
Spike snorted, watching the Slayer with evil humour as she backed up several steps. The thing she was distancing herself from wailed and went redder. Which was odd when it was sort of brownish to begin with.
“Well, its, er, I mean to say, she, would appear, er, um, to be, well she’s, mine apparently.” Giles stood uncomfortably beside the strange shaped carrier housing the even stranger bundle.
The Scooby and neutered, tied-up vamp filled room all turned to him as one, eyes comically wide as they set to refute the news.
“But…but…how?” Confusion was plastered all over the Slayer’s face.
“Come bloody well off it, Slayer. The girly spreads her dimpled knees, ole Rupert climbs aboard, rumpy-pumpy and Bob’s your uncle.”
Whiplash was the new concern as horrified eyes attempted to flay Spike without getting close enough to actually touch him.
Spike grinned maliciously. Right up until his eyes fell on the delightfully blushing face of his Slayer, that is. Then he frowned. Hard. His Slayer? Was his brain malfunctioning from lack of decent blood?
“Giles wouldn’t do something like that,” Willow counteracted, displaying unwavering faith in her responsible father-figure.
Spike leered at the redhead, sniffing out the chaos in the room and cherishing it as the last honest to goodness whiff of evil he’d probably be getting in a while.
“What? The Watcher absent the stones to get a little rough an’ tumble?”
Horrified gasps echoed around the room and Spike felt his grin widen.
“Stop it,” yelled Buffy, fists sexily balled on her hips. “Stop saying idiot British words.”
The Brits stood united in their affronted pride.
“As…as vulgar and colloquial as Spike is being, that is no reason to attack a fellow countryman for speaking a language you Americans fail to understand.” Giles almost tore the glasses from his face and rubbed the lenses to a frantic shine.
All this was to the sound of infuriated squalling, the group moving further and further away from the bundle that emitted the awful sound. Except for Spike who was tied to a kitchen chair and wasn’t moving anywhere.
“Got vamp hearing, you wankers. Want to tone the little tyke down a tad?”
No one moved, fear overriding concern as they held their distance.
With a massive sigh formed from irritation and frustration, Spike shrugged off the ropes that held him to the chair and walked over to the small bundle of pink bunny rugs. Eyes goggled as Willow, Giles and Xander looked at the discarded ropes on the floor. Buffy just tolled her eyes and wondered what made her friends think that a little rope would be strong enough to restrain a vampire.
In a gentle voice no one had heard from him—except for the small snippets of moments he’d been overheard with Dru—he retrieved the struggling and squirming package and tucked it under his arm. He hummed and rocked until the noise quieted to almost silence. Spike turned to face the Scoobies with a contented look of achievement flashing in his smile.
“See? So easy even a bleeding vampire can get it done!”
The expressions of horror hadn’t yet abated and Spike was starting to get a bit jack of all the unexplainable fear in the room. If he couldn’t eat it, he didn’t want to smell it.
“What’s the matter with you silly bints? I thought women loved babies. Clucked over cute little onesies and stuff. Know Dru liked ‘em. Bloody convenient for a midday snack an’ all.”
“Spike,” screamed four voices and finally Giles rushed him and snatched the babe from the arms of the vampire. One look at the older, less gentle man and the baby resumed the deafening screech.
“What? Got one of you useless lot to take it off me, didn’ it?
He smirked in self-satisfaction and took to lounging on the sofa.
“Got any reception on this box, Watcher?” asked Spike as he eyed the television with interest.
Er, not alot,” Giles replied with distraction, his eyes round with terror.
“Okay, okay, everyone just calm down,” jumped in Xander, his arms sweeping wide as he mirrored the frightened looks and let his eyes dart around frantically for the quickest way to sweep this dilemma under the carpet.
“You know what?” he began again as everyone watched him expectantly, his lips pursed as if in pain. “I have to go, can hear Anya calling.” His body was a blur as he passed through the door.
“Bloody chit’s not even in town, you cowardly git,” Spike shouted at the retreating back.
The peroxided vamp was just in time to catch the look passed between the Slayer and the witch and his own eyes shot wide open in sudden clarity and concern.
“Don’t you even think of taking one more bloody step. There is no way on this green earth that you’re desertin’ the Watcher to look after the wee one on his lonesome. So you bints better think of a solution to this mess. The bathroom has an echo and I am not gonna try and sleep with this cutie screamin’ her soddin’ lungs out all night, just cause you lot are too useless to know what to do with ‘er.”
The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look was getting old but given new meaning as he was stunned with it double-barrel like.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding.” Spike bounced to his feet, snatched the baby from Giles’s too loose hold and dumped her in Buffy’s arms. All to the sound of angered ‘hey’s’.
Buffy threw him a look of pure distaste, appearing like she had the spawn of Satan in her arms.
“I don’t know what to do,” Buffy whispered, a hint of tears at her lashes as she put that wounded, ‘help me’ look on her face.
Spike clenched his jaw. Hard. And—not for the first time since working out what the chip in his head was going to mean for his continued existence—he contemplated suicide.
“It’s a human, pet. Not gonna hurt you. You might even find out you enjoy it.”
Buffy watched him, sudden hope blooming in the wild forest green of her eyes, and Spike found himself aiming an honest smile at her. Returning to the sofa, he scooted over to give her room and patted the seat beside him. He tingled in anticipation of her sitting so close to him, the blood pumping loudly through her body an invitation to something other than feeding. Which the incongruity completely set him off his game.
“Come take a load off, luv. Take a look at the little one. Seems settled in your arms. A lot more ‘en in the Watcher’s at any rate.”
Buffy settled in beside Spike, sitting a little stiffly with the restless babe clutched tightly in her hands. Spike reached over to loosen her grip slightly and smiled as she seemed to relax.
When he looked down at the child all swaddled against the world, the gurgling acceptance of the tyke made him feel all satisfied with his lot. For the first time since he’d parted from Dru—or possibly even before. Made him feel like when he’d made a decent killing for the night.
Yeah, with the Slayer by his side, a baby in her arms, it made him feel all… His smile slipped.
Made him feel bloody peculiar.
A/N...Please, please, please review...it feeds me and gets the creative juices pumpin' hard....