DISCLAIMER:All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB, except Eve whom I made up myself. I also do not own Star Wars or any of it's characters.
RATING:PG-13
BACKGROUND: Season 4 story. Occurs after several weeks after the events in Motivation. Buffy/Spike action. All thoughts are cited with * *

"Dammit all to bloody hell!" Spike cursed under his breath as he heard the sounds coming from directly ahead of him. He'd just been on his way home from patrolling with the Slayer when he heard the screaming and the sucking noises. There were vamps ahead of him, and they were having an early morning snack. Usually he would not have cared, but since being caught and defanged by the Initiative, if he couldn't have any fun, no other vampires would either.

Sprinting with his demon enhanced speed, Spike headed for the source of the sound. He burst through the trees of the UC Sunnydale college green to see four vampires feasting on a family of three humans. Spike pulled a stake from his duster, and grabbed the nearest vampire, a brunette Caucasian, dusting him.

The remaining three paused from their meal, and Spike was able to get a better view of the scene. Two adult humans were definitely dead and drained with their necks snapped. However,the human held in the grasp of one of the three was a little girl. She'd been knocked around a bit, but surprisingly enough, had not been bitten which struck him as odd since most vampires got a great high from feeding on children. Her eyes were frightened as she looked at her demon-faced captors.

One of the vampires smiled, licking his lips,"Looks like the second course just arrived." He stood his fellows doing the same.

*Newbies,* Spike thought to himself. *Can't even identify another vampire, let alone a master like me. They deserve what they're going to get.*

"Looks juicy,"agreed the red-headed girl on the left.

"He'll make up for us not being allowed to eat the little one," The third one, a blonde, added. The three vampires advanced upon him.

"Gee,"Spike said sarcastically,"What kind of wanker do you think I am? What kind of person wanders around in the middle of the night with stakes?"

The leader paused and looked confused,"Out of towners, like them." He indicated the two corpses and the little girl.

"Maybe," Spike agreed,"But then again, maybe not." He pulled his game face out and gave them his wickedest 'I-am-a-badass-master-vampire' grin. The posse relaxed noticeably, and that was when Spike struck.

He slammed his stake into the leader, dusting him, while delivering a round-house kick to the red-head. She went down, and Spike stamped down hard on her breast bone as he ducked beneath Blondie's swings. Battering the blonde with the stake, he broke Blondie's nose with a left and pushed the stake home with his right.

Brushing dust off his clothes, Spike almost didn't hear the frightened voice yell,"Look out!"

Spike turned just in time to receive a full body tackle from the injured red-head. She raked at his face with her nails, but he punched her back with a vicious uppercut. She went down again, and this time he held her down by sitting on her chest, stake over her undead heart.

She looked around frantically and smiled. Then she laughed.

"What's so bloody funny?" he growled at her.

"The . . .others. We failed . . .to get the . . .girl. But," Her eyes glazed over and then focused. "They'll be here any minute for you . . .and her."

Swearing he shoved the stake into her heart,"Too late, however, for you."

He stood and heard the telltale sounds of approaching people. They might have been the others the newly dusted vamp had been referring to or they might not. Either way, it was time to go. His yellow eyes flickered to the little girl who had saved him by calling out. She was staring at him with scared uncomprehending eyes.

She was what those newbies had been hunting for so he would have to take her with him. As if his evening couldn't get any worse. He ran toward her and took an flask of water out of his pocket, opening it carefully. He then opened the jaws of both corpses, and, with great care, poured it down their dead throats. He hissed as a drop hit his hand. Holy water hurt like hell, but he had to guarantee those two couldn't come back. Closing the bottle, he reached for the little girl.

The girl shrank back from him. Spike looked at his hands and saw that one had an ugly burn from the holy water and the other was bloody from the corpses. That was when he remembered that he was still wearing his game face.

He shifted back into his human face and extended his hand a little closer. "Come with me. Please," he said in his most soothing tone. "Trust me, I'll save you from the bad men."

Her eyes caught his for a brief moment. For that moment he felt he was being examined inside out. The feeling lasted only for a second because she stood up, placing her tiny pale hand in his bloody one. "I know you will," she said gravely, sounding almost like an adult.

Spike swept her up, pulling her as close as he could to his body, and took off in a dead sprint because the sounds of the unknown others were getting close. He didn't head directly home, if someone was tracking him by either sight or scent, he had to muddy the trail. Hurdling fences and cutting through yards, he ran through the quiet Sunnydale campus, avoiding lights and frat houses. Eventually he arrived at his own house, a two story white house with no distinguishing features. It looked like the other hundred or so houses that were contained within the campus. It's only identifying mark was the small sign in its heavily curtained window, reading 'Wild Billy's Electronic Repair.' Unlocking and opening the door, he stepped in with his burden and locked the door behind him.

Setting the girl on the black leather couch he got his first good look at his prize when he turned on a lamp. She was a small thing, probably five with a tumble of dark curly hair and the biggest, saddest set of green eyes he'd ever seen in all his long life. The girl had a smattering of freckles across her nose, and she oozed an aura of helplessness mixed with unearthliness.

*She's a mystery all right,* he thought wiping blood from the rapidly healing gashes on his face. Most vampires took a special joy in draining and turning children. Spike bared his teeth at the thought, which was one deed he'd refused to do, turn children. Their demon bodies could never get older, they never achieved full strength, and they resented everyone else because of it. Which could explain why Spike had so thoroughly enjoyed letting the Annoying One burn.

Somehow the vampires had refused to bite her even though they were newbies who had little control over themselves. There had to be something very special about this little girl. Something so important that it could make the undead ignore their basic instincts. He hated to admit it, but that meant that she needed his protection. When he signed on to help the Slayer and her little friends, this was one of the last situations he ever expected to find himself in.

"Who are you?" The little girl asked him.

He debated what to tell her, "I'm William."

"You are," she nodded as if she could have confirmed his statement. "I am Eve."

Perhaps Eve could tell him what happened in on the green. He sat next to her on the couch. "Eve, could you tell me what happened tonight?"

"Mommy and Daddy were scared. They wanted to take me someplace safe," her lip trembled. "Then the bad men came! They got Mommy and Daddy-" Eve burst into tears, sobbing loudly.

Spike froze, this was NOT in the job description. He was a blood-sucking undead fiend; he wasn't cut out for this. Hesitantly, he put his arm around the girl and let her cry. "It's all right, pet. I'm sorry 'bout your parents. It's okay." He awkwardly patted her on the head, "The bad men are gone. You're safe with me." He wondered where that last one came from; it just popped out on its own.

A pair of tearstained eyes gazed up at him, and Eve smiled, "You will!" A cautious look came over her, "Are you like my daddy? Daddy William?"

Sure he was going to regret it, but still surprising himself, he replied," Err-sort of. I won't let any more bad men hurt you." *Why did I say that? I don't have to take care of her,* he thought, only something inside of him stirred. He felt an overwhelming need to protect this little girl.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he confirmed. Then he noticed that she was getting a bit droopy eyed. Using his sitcom and soap opera viewing as an example, he said, "Looks like bed time for you."

Eve yawned, "Okay, Daddy William."

"Hold here a second." He ran to his bedroom and grabbed two objects, one from the dresser and the other from a shoebox. Spike returned and handed them to her, a cross wrapped in a white T-shirt. "I need you to go in the bathroom and put these on."

She followed him to the bathroom door. He opened it, checking for danger. Spike kept his bathroom like a human's, with toilet paper and soap, because he felt someday he might have human company, one person in particular. . .

Pushing thoughts of the Slayer aside, he let Eve in and closed the door. Then he ran to the guest bedroom and looked it over. It was a bright green room; it had a bed with white sheets, a dresser on the side, a closet , and two windows. An inspiration hit him, and he pulled the holy water out of his duster. He poured it over the window latch and frame, whispering in Latin "Kyrie Eleison." (Lord have mercy) Satisfied he had done all he could, he replaced the holy water and pulled the shades down and curtains closed to guarantee no sunlight would enter.

The bathroom door opened, and Spike went to greet Eve.

"All ready for bed?" he asked

"I didn't brush my teeth," she said regretfully.

"When I find you a toothbrush, you'll brush 'em, okay?" He just wanted her to go to bed so he could sort out what to do tomorrow.

"Kay, Daddy William," she replied holding up her arms.

After a second of confusion, he understood she expected him to pick her up. He complied and nestled her trustingly in his arms. Carrying her to the guest bedroom, he set her on the bed. She immediately climbed off and knelt by the bed. She began to recite her prayers in a high sweet voice, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. God bless, Mommy and Daddy, take care of them in heaven. Care for my new Daddy William," her voice dropped into a lower octave. "Give him strength to face the darkness," her voice returned to her original one. "And please bless my three cats that we gave to the neighbors. Amen."

Spike was a bit startled to be prayed for; people tended not to pray for unredeemably evil people like himself. It was very strange, but not altogether displeasing. Eve climbed back into bed and crawled under the covers. He was turning to leave when she called out to him, "Tell me a story."

He paused searching his mind for an appropriate one. What kind of story should a vampire tell a little girl who just watched her parents get eaten by vampires? Several ones that certainly didn't fit the bill sprang to mind, but he did finally come up with one. "If I tell you this story, will you go to sleep.?"

"Yes," she agreed.

"Okay, here goes. Umm. . .once upon a time, many dark bad men lived on earth. They did all sorts of bad stuff and hurt people."

"Like my mommy and daddy?"

"Yes, like that," he continued, "Things were very unhappy back then; everyone was scared of the night, but then someone appeared on the horizon. It was the Slay-Chosen One. She was a beautiful girl chosen by God to fight the darkness. The Chosen One had special powers, she was stronger than the darkness. So she fought it."

"Like you?"

*Not really.* "A bit," he said truthfully seeing as he did slay other vampires. "Sometimes, though, the dark ones would win and kill the Chosen One." he heard her gasp of fear and reflected back on how he had personally been one of the dark ones. That was probably not the most comforting thing he could tell her in this story so he plowed onward, "But even when the Chosen One died, another was called to fight the dark bad men. Right now, the Chosen One is the best and strongest that has ever lived. She fought the darkness many times and won, saving the world. She even turned some of the darkest ones onto her side." Eve's eyes seemed droopy so Spike decided to finish the tale," Just know then that the Chosen One is out there protecting the world from the dark." With that he slid toward the door and turned off the light.

"Daddy William," the little voice said, and he returned to her bedside. "Can you give me a kiss goodnight?" Her sleepy eyes looked at him hopefully, and not even he could resist her innocence and complete trust. She had no idea who he really was, that he was all the darkness and more, and still she let him get that close. Spike brushed her forehead with his lips and walked out the door again.

A sleepy voice commented from the bed, "Daddy William, you're like the Chosen One. You need each other-" Eve dropped off into sleep.

He stood staring at her, one part wonder, one part gentleness. Was his confusion over the oh-so-gorgeous Slayer that evident. Or was it because she could see inside of him, past his walls. She looked so cute, a little angel, in his giant T-shirt and white bedspread. *Damn, I'm turning into a bloody poof like Angel.*

Closing the door behind him he returned to his living room. He sat on his couch and looked at his entertainment center. It took up one whole wall: a CD player, wide-screen TV, DVD, VCR, three different video game systems, speakers, the works. He walked over to it and picked up a remote. Pressing a code, a panel on the entertainment center flipped open revealing a state-of-the art security system control center. Before he moved into his house, he had had the system installed because he didn't want to get caught unawares by the Initiative. The system had security cameras over every door and window, motion and heat sensors, and an electronic locking system. Keeping a wary eye on the feed from the surveillance cameras, he removed his duster. He took the cell phone from one of its pockets and punched a number. It was cheaper to call from his house phone, but the cell phone was less traceable, and it had an encryption setting on it. You never knew who was listening.

After the third ring, a groggy voice answered, "Hello?"

"Slayer, please," he replied in a clipped voice, checking his watch and seeing he had only ended his patrol with her an hour and a half ago. They'd met at the cemetery, staked eight new vampires, and, as usual, bickered unceasingly. He loved arguing with her; it got her all frazzled, plus she looked so sexy.

"Buff," he heard over the line. "Phone, Spike." There was a noise as the phone changed hands.

"What?" Buffy said in an irritable voice.

"Bit touchy pet?" Spike said in the cocky voice he knew was particularly annoying to her.

"Pet, nothing. It's 3 a.m. Is this a prank?"

"Would I do that? Strike that, I would." He smiled at the sputtering sound she made. "You think I would have interrupted your much needed beauty rest for no good reason."

"At least beauty sleep does me some good, unlike you who haven't changed your look for what, a century? Does this have a point?"

"Actually yes, I ran into some trouble after we separated."

"Trouble, what kind?" The playfulness in her voice was replaced by what he recognized as the Slayer's business tone.

"The fangy kind, but, have no fear Slayer, I took care of it. Problem is that I got a bit of a situation here. I need to lie low for a couple days. No biggie, I'll call if I need any help."

"Spike," She called over the line, but he'd already hung up.

The phone rang immediately. "I see Star 69 works. Miss me much?" He purred.

"Annoying much," she replied and took a deep breath. "I need to know, are you like injured or something, preferably holy water, garlic, or cross related."

"Why Slayer, I never knew you cared."

There was hesitation over the line, "Well,you know I can't have my favorite slaying buddy giving it less than 110%."

"I'm your only slaying buddy since none of your friends want me around. And, yes, I have all my pieces in all the proper places."

"Okay, then. Umm, I guess that's it then." She paused.

"Guess so," he agreed unwilling to end the call.

She appeared to be fighting the same battle. "Well then, I had better be going."

"Go ahead, you called me."

"You called first. Whatever. Good night, Spike." She still didn't hang up.

"Good night, Slayer. Get that beauty sleep."

"Good night, Spike," she repeated and finally hung up.

"Dream of me," Spike said out loud into the dead line. He allowed himself a brief, sour smile. At least the Slayer was still as uncomfortable about this thing as he was. Whatever they had been before, those kisses had completely changed everything. They had done it under there own free wills; there was no spell to blame it on. They were mortal enemies and were supposed to hate each other. She loved his sire, but that didn't keep Spike from wishing at the most inopportune times that he could grab, kiss, and shag the Slayer. It was completely against his nature, alot like what he would be doing tomorrow morning.

He relocked his door, adding a few extra chains and bars that could only be taken down from the inside. Spike also double secured every window and carried some stakes into his red walled bedroom right next to the guestroom. After stripping down to the waist, he placed some stakes under his pillow and prepared for sleep. It was very early for him, but tomorrow he would have to care for Eve. And strangely, he was almost looking forward to seeing what kind of a dad he would make.

"That was strange, "Buffy said to the silent phone.

"What was?" Willow asked stretching in her bed.

"Spike. He said he met some vampires, staked them, and is lying low." Buffy replaced the phone on its hanger and got back into bed.

"So what's the problem? Maybe he's hurt," Willow suggested.

"Nah, he'd be angrier," Buffy dismissed.

"He could have staked one of his old posse. Or maybe a vampire got away."

Buffy shook her head, "He doesn't care about his old friends too much anymore, especially if one takes a shot at him. If a vampire had gotten away, he'd have been a whole lot more pissed off. Why am I having this discussion? He's Spike, strange is his middle name."

Willow turned off the light, "You started it. Besides would that make his whole name William Strange the Bloody?" She ducked as Buffy threw a pillow at her. She threw it back. "He's fine, well as fine as you can be with being undead. We won't be fine if we don't get sleep for Psych tomorrow morning."

"You're right. Need sleep." Buffy fluffed her pillow and wondered what situation Spike had gotten himself into.

DISCLAIMER:All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB, except Eve whom I made up myself. I also do not own Star Wars or any of it's characters. I do not own Count Chocula cereal either.
RATING:PG-13 to R(for the sensitive only)
BACKGROUND: Season 4 story. Occurs several weeks after the events in Motivation. Buffy/Spike action. Thoughts are cited with * *

When Spike woke up at 6, he knew he had about 45 minutes before the sun rose. Calculating carefully he took a short trip to the all-night UC Sunnydale convenient store. Few vampires ventured out that early or late (depending on your point of view) because the Monday morning sun was too near of a danger. At the store he bought several human type items: toothbrush, toothpaste, crayons, paper, and some child sized shirts and shorts bearing the UC Sunnydale logo. He paid particular attention to the food he bought since the only food edible to humans was of the alcoholic nature or Count Chocula. He bought bread, milk, peanut butter, sliced roast beef, and a pizza. The sleepy clerk rang up his items, which he paid for in cash, pocketing the receipt.

Spike made if home with 15 minutes to spare. He had barely finished unpacking all his purchases when Eve began to scream.

"Dark, Daddy William!"

He rushed into her room and flipped on the light. Eve flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around one jean-covered leg. She was trembling like mad, and Spike wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Her hysterics could wake the whole neighborhood, not to mention the fact that he totally despised hysterical people, human or vampire. Humans that had lost it were usually eaten first, and he found that killing them lowered the amount of hysterical vampires he'd have to thrash later.

Against his better judgement, he detached her from his leg and crouched down until he was at her level. She stared at him, her dark hair all askew, her green eyes frightened. "What's the matter, pet?' he inquired as conversationally as possibly.

"The bad men came! Daddy William couldn't stop them. They got me, not even the Chosen One could save me!" She hid her face on his arm, "Then they hurt you, Daddy William, so I would help them. And I did." Eve looked away from him, "They hurt the Chosen One too, but they bited me. It hurt and after that I bited the Chosen One. I was a bad man!"

"Eve, look at me." Spike forced her to face him, "The bad men can't get you. I won't let them. They will never make you one of them." And he meant it. No one would turn this child into a vampire, ever. Apparently the demon inside him felt the same way because it did not even stir in protest.

"You believe that, "Eve stated, relaxing against him. "Then I'm safe."

"Now that we've got that clear, I think that you should do me a favor and eat something. You'll be better after breakfast."

Eve nodded and followed him to the kitchen. They sat and so went one of the oddest meals ever to grace the earth. Eve ate the cereal with the milk. The cereal was Count Chocula which Spike had because he like the mascot and its texture when ground up in the pig's blood. It turned her milk brown in contrast to the 'strawberry' milkshake Spike drank. Some milk mixed with pig's blood did look like those instant breakfasts he had seen on TV, once he blended it in his hardly touched blender.

Over breakfast Spike decided to provide some explanations and set some rules.

"Eve, you remember last night?"

"The bad men got Mommy and Daddy. Daddy William rescued me."

"That's all well and good, but from now on you need to stay in the house. No playing outside." He used the voice he used to use with his dumber minions, the one that left no room for questions.

"Why?" she asked innocently.

The voice must not have worked. "Because. . ."*I'm a vampire and sunlight is death.* "The bad men could still be looking for you. so we'll hide her for a while. We just have to stay inside and. . .play. No bad men will find us."

"What if they do?"

"They only hunt at night," he paused and took this as an opportunity to lecture her on safety. "Don't open the doors, windows, or curtains. Definitely don't invite anyone in. Strangers can be dangerous." Spike felt foolish trying to explain the facts of life in Sunnyhell to a five-year old.

"Okay," she agreed finally not asking any more questions about it. "Can we play now?"

"First we do the dishes," he replied. That wasn't too much trouble because, as opposed to food, he used dishes. He washed, Eve attempted to dry, and then they put the food away on Spike's mostly bare shelves.

Eve looked at the empty cupboards with amazement, "Don't you get hungry?"

*Not for food.* "I-well, I eat out alot," Spike stammered.

"Oh, like McDonald's. I love Happy Meals," Eve chimed in.

*Probably not the kind I love.* "A bit," Spike hastily concurred, searching for something for her to do. "I know, let's watch a video on the telly."

She clapped her hands when she caught sight of the huge TV. Spike wandered over to his video library, trying to find an appropriate video for a five-year-old. While he loved movies, most of his collection was the MTV, rated R and up variety. Luckily he found what he needed at the back. Whistling to himself, he pulled out three old favorites.

"Okay, luv, you ever see Star Wars? No? We've got to fix that." He popped the first one into the VCR, and Eve was enthralled. Keeping half an eye on her, Spike worked at his so-called job from his computer on the other side of the room, answering history questions via Internet. Most questions were so laughably simple, they served to convince him over again that American humans were down right dumb. It also helped that questions were often about things he'd actually live through.

One question did disturb him. It was about the Salem Witch Trials for a Mythology class. [Were the girls in Salem seers?]

[No] he typed eyeing Eve and thinking about Drusilla. [They had eaten hallucinogenic spores.]

He paused. Eve really did seem exactly like what he imagined Dru must have been as a child. Eerie and trusting which, of course, had led to trouble for Dru. Angelus loved corrupting the innocent whereas Spike had taken such great pains to protect his dark princess. Maybe that was why he felt for Eve so much; she was a baby Dru. That had to be it, Eve was exactly like Dru, minus the insanity and bloodlust, naturally.

The movie rolled to an end, but Eve even watched the credits. "The bad men lost, "she exclaimed. "What happens next? One bad man got away."

Spike checked the time, "You'll see after lunch. Which it is about time for now."

They ate their second meal of the day. Both had sandwiches, she had the peanut butter, and he had extremely rare roast beef. She was drinking her milk when she gave him an odd look.

"What is it, luv?"

"Why do you get juice? I don't."

Spike examined the red 'juice' in his cup. "You need milk to grow. I'm all done growing. Been done growing for a long time now." *A very long time.* Changing the subject, he asked out loud, "Did you like the movie?"

"Yes," she blurted out. "The princess is the Chosen One. She fought the bad men." Eve eyed him carefully, "Is the Chosen One like the princess?"

Why not tell her some of the truth? "Yes, she is very strong, pretty, and smart."

"What about those two boys? She likes them both. Does she get to pick just one?"

"Eventually. Should she pick the one that is boringly good or the one that came through in the end?" Spike had a particular dislike for Luke and the whole 'tortured destiny' act. Han Solo was more his style.

"I dunno. One is all good, but the other is good inside. He's just hiding it." Her eyes bored into Spike, and he shifted under the scrutiny. "Can we watch the next one now?"

"Sure, pet." This time he watched it with her. Throughout the next one, which was his personal favorite, she sat on his lap. Every time Darth Vader came onscreen, she hid her head in his chest. The carbon-freezing part was the worst for her. "Why did his friend help the bad men?" she cried.

"He was scared. He's very sorry now. He'll make it up later," Spike assured her.

Eve watched the final climactic fight scene between father and son with an awed expression. When the movie ended, she looked at Spike for answers. "That bad man was his daddy?"

"Yes, pet. He was."

Her chin jutted out, "But he's bad! He hurt his son's friends. He hurt his son. Bad things should happen to him! He used his magic for badness!"

Spike recoiled, oddly hurt by her comments. He'd always felt a bit of a kinship with poor misunderstood Darth. "Eve, not everything is as it seems all the time. You'll see. Let's play something else now."

She complied, and they got out the paper and crayons. At her insistence he drew with her on the table. Eve hummed to herself and swung her feet as she scribbled away at the paper. Spike doodled for a while before drawing the refrigerator. He wasn't into art like Angel was. Then he noticed Eve fighting off sleep.

"Nap time," he said.

"Aren't sleepy," she yawned in protest.

"Are too," he picked her up, avoiding the cross and put her to bed.

With her asleep, he went to the refrigerator and took a healthy swig of blood fromfrom the carton. Pig's blood still tasted terrible , but he needed it to live. Glancing at his supply, he figured he could last a few more days at least. He also decided that now would be a good time to watch Passions, which he'd taped on the VCR in his room. He loved the show, there were such good evil in it. As usual he watched it on his couch all vamped out, wondering what kind of wankers the 'good' characters had to be since the 'evil' characters manipulated them so easily. If the Slayer had been on the show, Tabitha wouldn't have lasted a minute past her first evil act.

*The Slayer. . .she was gorgeous,* he thought drifting off into sleep. It was his usual rest time at least.

The sound of a door opening hours later disrupted his rest. He sat up, game face still on, and pulled it off swiftly when he saw it was just Eve waking up.

"Hullo, Eve. Have a nice nap?" At her nod he asked, "What do you want to do now?"

"Finish my picture," she said blinking sleep away. So they colored for another hour. Spike drew his untouched toaster. When Eve was done, she proudly displayed her picture. "See, Daddy William, you." It kind of was. He did have whitish hair, and he was pale. However, even without being able to see his reflection, he was pretty sure that his nose was above his mouth and that his eyes were near the same size.

What did humans say, it's the thought that counts? "It's lovely. What shall I do with it?" *What did they always do on the telly?* "I know, let's put it on the refrigerator." Placing it was a little hard because Spike didn't own a single magnet. Using some British ingenuity, he managed to stick her picture of him and his pictures of appliances (because she asked) up on the refrigerator with duct tape.

They played hide-and-go-seek next. Spike took his time finding her under the guest bed, ignoring the giggles as he pretended to search everywhere. She found him easily in her closet when it was her turn, not bothering to search anywhere else. He had no idea how she knew he was there since he couldn't have been making a sound, no breathing and all.

Dinner, the pizza he'd bought that morning was devoured quickly because he had promised Eve they would watch the final installment of the trilogy after they finished. On his part, Spike pretended to be perfectly content with his non-meal.

When they sat down to watch the last video, Eve plopped down on his lap. She hardly closed her eyes the entire movie. Her little form was petrified in fear from the second the Emperor graced the scene until the second he met his death at the end. Eve cried when Darth lost his mask and literally gave up the ghost.

Eventually the credits rolled, and Spike turned off the TV. Eve stretched, climbing off his lap with a grin.

"Daddy William?"

"Yes, pet."

"I'm happy the princess picked the one that was good inside." She thought for a second, "I'm happy the daddy was not all bad."

"That's good," he agreed, leading her to the bathroom where she could brush her teeth. When she was done, he set her on the bed and listened to her repeat the prayer from the previous night. Instead of requesting another story, she wanted something else tonight, "If the Chosen One is the princess, are there others?"

"Well, you know the hairy one? We kinda had one of those, but only three nights of the month." Spike wondered how the absent werewolf would have thought about that description. "Also, there is a Yoda and Obi-wan combo. His job is to help the Chosen One." That summed up the Watcher pretty cleanly. "I think Luke move to L.A. since he found out he couldn't have the Chosen One." Spike steered clear of the part about Angel being his sire and the Slayer's ex-boyfriend.

"Which one are you?" her little voice asked him.

"I'd say I'm a bit of the bad daddy, the bad friend, and Han Solo." That did describe it: evil demon inside, the betrayal of his kind, and not to sure he want to be on the 'good' side. In fact if he wanted to be accepted again by his own kind, he could simply turn Eve over to the local vampire posse and all would be forgiven. But he wouldn't, not for any reason. The line was drawn in the sand; Eve would never become a vampire.

"Is there the Force?"

There could have never been a more perfect moment to make the facts of life in Sunnyhell more clear to her. "In a way, luv. The Chosen One and her pals are all on the light side, Yoda, Chewy, the witch, but they live on top of a whole bunch of dark side power that makes bad men. They fight the bad men all the time." Now to explain himself, "Sometimes the bad men do change sides. They don't really get all good; they just help out the light side."

"You're one!" she exclaimed.

"True, so is Luke in L.A. Only he's better than me, he doesn't have as much bad in him." Spike slowly let his demon coming to the surface. He felt compelled to let her see exactly who she was dealing with.

Eve watched him, staring at his fangs and scaly brow. She gently ran a hand across his face, concentration etched on her face. The tiny had swept by his demon ridges, touching each on in turn. "You're them and not them." She pronounced and suddenly her head snapped backward falling back on the bed.

Spike pulled his demon back in and tried to support her. Eve sat up, back ramrod straight, her eyes wide open, staring into space. In a voice deeper and lower than her usual one she said, "Evil done by good hands is evil. Good done by evil hands is good." She took a breath, inhaling and flung her arms out. Her small body seemed to glow, filling her with an unearthly light. The haunting voice said, "She is their Tool, and I am their Voice." Eve collapsed again, shrinking back into her child's body, eyes closed.

Slowly her eyes opened, "Daddy William that hurt." Eve seemed to forget about the ghostly conversation she had just had. "Who are the robots?" Spike had no clue what she was talking about. "Robots," she repeated. "Does the Chosen One have robots?"

"No, not good ones at least. Two of her friends sound like them." How could her tell her about Red and that annoying mouthy one? "One is a good witch, she does good magic. The other is a wanke-dude that is hopelessly devoted to the Slay-Chosen One." At this point he was stammering, so utterly shocked by her behavior.

"Okay, Eve's sleepy now. Night, Daddy William." She tilted her head expectantly, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He walked out after turning out her light. Then he stared at her door for a long time.

Was it possible? What did this little girl see in him, in everything. His mind flicked over the possibilities. Eve was no demon of any type; she acted, and, more importantly, smelled perfectly human. The possibility of some type of possession was not unrealistic, but she probably would have acted stranger, and a bit more destructive.

His thoughts wandered to Dru. She had been somewhat clairvoyant, but she only 'heard' voices that told her the future and gave her some insight to events that were occurring at the same time. The incident when the Slayer and his sire had gotten to shag was a good example. Angel lost his soul, and Dru certainly felt that change.

The Slayer. Spike picked up his cell phone and started to dial her number. He stopped. No use calling her now, she would be either out on patrolling or dating that bloke Riley. He wasn't going to tell anyone except her about Eve, and until he knew what was wrong or right with Eve, he'd have to sit tight. No way was he becoming like the poof, running to his Slayer *When did she become my Slayer?* every time something not so kosher happened.

Spike poured himself a cup of blood and tried to imagine what kind of danger Eve could be in. She was just a little girl, too young to be a threat to anyone yet. No vampire would dare attack her while she was in his house under his care, right? There wasn't any danger of course. Everything would be fine. He checked the surveillance cameras, no suspicious activity day or night. No one had tried to do anything or track him as far as he could tell. There was absolutely positively nothing to worry about. Nevertheless, before he turned in early, Spike painted her door handle with holy water, just in case.

Eve

DISCLAIMER:All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB, except Eve whom I made up myself. I also do not own Star Wars or any of it's characters. I do not own Count Chocula cereal either. The Cat in the Hat was written by Dr. Seuss, not me.
RATING:PG-13 to R(for the sensitive only)
BACKGROUND: Season 4 story. Occurs several weeks after the events in Motivation. Buffy/Spike action. Thoughts are cited with * *

Before dawn, Spike woke and ran to that convenient store, buying tomato soup and a children's book. Eve slept later about to eight, giving Spike a chance to practice in his second floor exercise room. Most of his vampire/quasi-slayer supplies were kept up there: garlic, stakes, crosses, crossbows, and the like. There was also a storage room up there for personal items and other odds and ends.

He'd just been getting a good workout in when the screams started. Spike rushed down the stairs and stopped short of the door. The holy water he poured on the handle protected Eve form vampires, but it also kept him out.

Gritting his teeth, he reached for the handle. Eve needed him right now. The pain was intense as his undead flesh sizzled against the holy water. Biting back a curse, he ran into the room and seized the screaming child, shaking her until she came fully awake.

"Daddy William?" she sobbed, her face on his shoulder, "The bad men were back. They had stars. The stars burned."

"It's okay, luv. See no stars here." He petted her like a cat, sticking his burned hand in his pocket and waited for her quaking form to hold still.

As he sat patting her head, he concluded that this 'Daddy William' job did have its perks. Eve trusted him and only him with a totality he had never experienced even with Drusilla. He had killed hundreds of little girls with his bare hands, and the demon inside of him could have easily torn Eve to shreds. Yet, somehow, he knew he would never ever do that. In fact, he realized that he would go to any length to protect this fragile human child.

Her sobs did eventually stop, and she returned to her happy little five-year-old persona again. Their day was much like the day before except they did not watch Star Wars. They played hide-and-go-seek and airplane. Spike turned down doctor (the medical type) because he didn't have a pulse or a heartbeat, and his body temperature was the same as room temperature. Eve drew for a while and Spike drew his TV. The picture Eve drew looked different than before. There were lots of circles, crosses, and other unrecognizable swirls. She simply called it 'New."

The break in the 'normal' day occurred during the dinner of tomato soup. First he noticed that he was nearly out of blood, which was going to become a serious problem quite soon. Then he noticed Eve had stopped eating her soup and bread. She had taken out her black crayon and was drawing on a white piece of paper. Humming in a low tone, her feet swung back and forth.

"Eve," he called. No response. "Eve," he repeated. Still nothing. He stood, walked over to her, and tapped her on the shoulder. She didn't react. He looked down at the drawing she was concentrating on and froze.

It was the Slayer. A perfect likeness drawn in black crayon. Eve's picture could have been used as a police sketch. Spike could actually see the minute details of the Slayer's face caught cleanly on the white paper.

Eve said in that too familiar low voice, "When one dies, another is called. She is their Tool, and I am their Voice." She shrank a bit, and Spike saw she had reverted to a half-trance state he recognized from living a century with Dru.

"Hold here, pet. Be back in a bit." Spike turned and ran up the stairs to the storage room to rummage through an unlabeled box. In his haste, he upended it and found what he sought at the bottom of the pile. Tarot cards, Dru's in fact, he'd taken them when they parted that last time.

Rushing back down the stairs he thrust them in front of Eve saying, "Go ahead, shuffle, and pick three." Tiny hands picked up the cards, cut them, and shuffled them with the ease of a Las Vegas dealer. Trembling fingers then pulled three from the top of the deck, setting them side by side.

Spike looked at the cards and cursed. He sprinted into the living room, grabbed his cell phone, and punched a number.

"Slayer," the voice demanded urgently.

"Speaking," Buffy replied adjusting her hair in the mirror. "Spike, could you hurry this up? Riley is gonna be here any second." Buffy knew she sounded harsh, but it served him right for not contacting her for two days. He'd dropped this unspecific 'situation' on her, and didn't give any details. She worried about it for the last two days straight wondering if he was fine. Personally she couldn't understand why she was concerned for his health at all.

"I need you to come to my house now." Spike snarled in response to her obviously annoyed response.

"Did you miss the first part? Date, rhymes with late. You know D-A-T-E, something you can get if your unlife depended on it. I am going on one." Buffy was getting really annoyed now with him giving her orders.

"Listen Slayer, I need you at my house now. I can't leave and the situation I'm in is rapidly getting bigger."

"Fine. What else? Is this a staking type situation?" She asked realizing Spike never asked for help. Whatever he was into had to be so big , against such huge odds, that he had to call her.

"It's not to dusting yet, but be prepared. You also need to bring me some stuff," Spike told her.

"Like what?"

"Garlic, holy water, crosses, more stakes, pig's blood, a hairbrush, and jelly. It can all fit in a book bag or whatever you have."

That stopped Buffy short, "What am I, the vampire 711? You need me there right now, right after I go shopping."

"You're pissing me off, Slayer," he hissed at her. "Make sure you muddle the trail before you come here. Come through the yard of the house behind mine and go in the back door. We're not answering the door, ducks, so you'll need to put in the code."

"Fine, I'll do it." Buffy said. "What's the code?"

"I'll only tell you it once. 01901260243. Meet me in an hour." Spike hung up.

"Vampires," Buffy shook her head and laid the phone back on its cradle. She began to pull her patrolling clothes out of her dresser. The little red number she had been going to wear on the date was not ideal for crawling through yards and climbing fences. The black catsuit was much better for that kind of thing.

There was a knock at her door as she finished changing. She opened the door to see Riley all dressed up for the date they weren't going on.

"Oh, Riley, hi," she said feeling awkward.

Riley watched her remove one of her earrings, "That's not a good sign for our date ,is it?"

He was a true blue member of the Initiative which captured demons, vampires, and the like on campus. The Initiative was also responsible for whatever kept Spike from harming humans. Spike had escaped before anything else happened to him. While Riley did understand her slaying duties, he would have been less than sympathetic to Spike's plight, so no one in the Scooby Gang ever revealed Spike's existence to him, though there had been some close calls.

"I'm sorry. One of my friends is really sick and needs me right away," Buffy fibbed wondering if he could tell she was lying. She hated to lie to Riley yet again and began to mentally throttle Spike for his behavior.

"She is? Well, I'll come with you to the hospital then."

"No! I mean no, that's okay. Not at the hospital," She put on a sweater, "Still at home."

"Then I'll come visit her," he suggested reasonably.

"Nah, they're really contagious and me being the Slayer and all, I'm immune," she leaned closer and patted him on the cheek. "I'm really sorry."

He brightened considerably, "I trust you're not sneaking off to visit some other guy." He turned totally missing the blanched look on Buffy's face. "I'll go to the party by myself. Tell your friend that I hope she feels better."

Overcome by guilt, Buffy followed him and gave him a short kiss on the lips, "I'm really sorry. I was looking forward to tonight."

"It'll be all right," he replied, completely revived. "We'll go out next week." Giving her another kiss, he left.

*He's so handsome and sweet,* she thought. *He treats me so well, and he's nice and he's so-*

*Normal and boring,* a traitorous voice in her head countered. *Take those kisses. If he'd been Spike, you'd have caught on fire and never made it off the floor until you finished what started in the bathtub.*

Buffy leaned against her door, practically feeling his hands all over her. In her hair, on her breasts. . .

*Stop!* She mentally berated herself. *You're the Slayer, he is a vampire.* So they kissed a few times, big deal. She had kissed Riley more than a few times. *But he's not Spike,* that voice whispered.

Groaning inwardly Buffy turned back to the task at hand. She began filling her book bag with slayer supplies. It was just like him to call at the worst time with Willow at study group. After jotting down a note for her, she packed garlic into her bag. Why exactly did Spike need all those supplies that were such great methods for getting rid of vampires.

Buffy hefted her full bag onto her shoulders. She had most of Spike's shopping list on hand. Stopping at Giles's house, she picked up the pig's blood and jelly. Fortunately he wasn't home to question why she was taking those items. Now she was creeping through the yard of the house directly behind Spike's. All she need to do now was jump the hedge that separated the two yards.

In three short runs she was airborne, over the fence, landing stake in hand, prepared for an attack in any direction. Nothing. She avoided puddles and climbed the stairs to the back door.

Puddles? It hadn't rained in the last week. How could there be puddles? Also it smelled a little strange. After punching in the code, she grabbed the door handle, felt something sticky, and figured out what the smell was.

Garlic, someone had smashed it all around the steps, and she was willing to bet that the puddle were holy water. In fact, there were crosses of some type in every window and one hanging on the door. That was more than strange. Had someone put those up to keep Spike from going outside, or had Spike put them up himself to keep someone out?

Entering the house she found the garlic smell redoubled in the outer room. She closed the door, and it made a loud clicking noise as its deadbolt slid electronically into place. There was also a strange circle drawn on the door in white chalk. Upon further examination, the chalk circle resembled something Willow drew on her notebooks, a protection spell of some kind. Willow had said the circle was a passive spell and wouldn't work until she was threatened with magical danger. The whole room looked like a vampire death trap, and Buffy couldn't imagine how Spike could handle living in it. There were even crosses chained to the washer and dryer.

Through the walls Buffy could vaguely hear Spike's voice. She couldn't make out the words so she ignored the garlic covered door handle and entered the living room.

Spike was sitting on the couch in his usual black on black outfit, reading out loud to a . . . . . . little girl in a long white T-shirt? *This has taken a turn for the bizarre.* That was the last person she expected to see in Spike's house. If it had been any vampire but Spike, she would have staked them then and there for playing with its 'food.' The little girl did not share Buffy's fears because she was curled up trustingly around him, sitting on his lap with obvious enjoyment reflected on her face.

Spike acknowledged her presence with his eyes but did not pause from his reading. (From The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss)"-I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny. But we can have good fun that is funny-"

Buffy waited for the story to finish, trying to guess why and how Spike had come to be in possession of a little kid. Her thoughts kept wandering to how even in this parental setting she couldn't stop thinking how sexy Spike looked as a father figure. She briefly envisioned him attending PTA meetings and seeing all the moms swoon when they met such a prime piece of flesh.

Dragging herself back to the scene, Buffy examined the girl. She had to be about five, and she was definitely human judging by the cross hanging on her neck, which, incidentally, Spike was taking care to avoid. The girl had a certain fragile beauty with dark hair and black-fringed giant green eyes. She radiated a certain innocence and calm that Buffy had never seen. Nowhere was it move evident that in her closeness to Spike, something not even Buffy who had been lovers with Angel had ever been completely comfortable with.

The little girl looked up at Buffy when the story was over and said, surprising Buffy, "Daddy William, she is the Chosen One."

Spike had heard the Slayer come in and had been quite aware of her eyes on him since her entry, but he was not prepared for Eve to recognize Buffy. "Yes, pet, she is the Chosen One. Just like I told you, Eve."

"Oh goody," Eve replied happily and climbed off his lap to run to Buffy and hug her legs.

The calm that was in Eve instantly cleared all the confusion that was in Buffy. She could see what it was that this little girl used to keep Spike enthralled. Eve stared up at Buffy's face, and Buffy had the odd sensation of being spun around and swallowed by Eve's gaze.

Eve blinked and Buffy felt herself return to normal. "You are good," Eve proclaimed. "You are the princess."

Behind them Spike cleared his throat, "That's all well and good, but, Eve, bedtime for you."

"Oh, Daddy William," Eve complained good naturedly, throwing her arms around him. He hoisted her up in the air, spun her around, and carried her to the bedroom. Squealing in delight Eve asked, "Will the princess be here in the morning?"

"She'll be here. Now bed," Spike sounded very much the harried father. He carried her to the bed, and Buffy watched from the doorway. Eve began to pray under the uneasy eyes of Spike.

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. God bless, Mommy and Daddy, take care of them in heaven. Thank you for bringing me the Chosen One to protect me like Mommy used to." She sat up and interrupted her prayer, "Daddy William, what is the Chosen One's name?"

"Buffy," she answered for Spike from the doorway, not wanting to be labeled the Slayer.

"Bless Daddy William and Mommy Buffy. Bless also my three cats that we left at the neighbors. Amen," Eve ended her prayer.

At this point Eve looked at Spike, and to Buffy's surprise, he leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead. Eve returned it with a peck on his forehead. The scene was so sweet that Buffy was tempted to forget that Spike was a blood-sucking demon from beyond the grave.

Spike was headed for the door when Eve sat up and called out, "Daddy William? Are you going to kiss Mommy Buffy good night?"

Silence answered her. *Don't, please don't,* Buffy's mind called out with the other half cheerfully yelling, *Do it, please. Now!* She looked desperately at Spike.

On his part Spike stood stock still. He hadn't told Eve about the complexities of his relationship, or lack thereof, with the Slayer. She simply assumed he and the Slayer were some kind of couple, especially since Eve had labeled him Han and the Slayer the princess. It was true, he wanted to kiss her, but could he manage to keep his hands off the bloody Slayer?!

Spike turned and faced the Slayer. She was holding her breath, and he could hear her heart pounding like mad. He placed his cool hand on her arm, and she caught her breath as his mouth descended on hers.

It was an explosion of hot and cold. Buffy’s heart rate tripled, and Spike was fervently glad he did not have a blood pressure to speak of because it would have shot through the roof. His tongue slipped in her mouth, and she returned the favor. It wasn’t close enough for Buffy; she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer until they stood thigh to thigh, breast to chest. He responded by pinning her against the door frame.

A giggle interrupted them. “Yep, just like my old Mommy and Daddy.” Spike abruptly released the Slayer, beginning to mentally berate himself. So much for keeping his hands off. He flipped off the light, and pushed her out the door in confusion.

Standing in her own confusion, Buffy watched him stalk off into the kitchen. What happened? One second everything was okay, and the next she was wrapped in the arms of Spike, her hands roaming across his shoulder blades. Spike reentered the living room, gloved and carrying a water bottle with what appeared to be a shaker of Mrs. Dash. His movements were jerky, signaling his anger as he poured Mrs. Dash on the door’s handle, frame and nearby floor. Then he soaked the whole door with the water. He hissed when a drop hit his forearm and began to smoke. When he was done, he drew a cross gingerly from his pocket and hung it on the door. He turned and stomped back into the kitchen , dropping of the herbs, gloves, and water to flop down on the couch.

Buffy shut her eyes wondering if she really saw what she knew she had seen. Did Spike just vampire-proof Eve’s room with garlic, holy water, and a cross? Did Spike read stories and give good night kisses just like a father? She smiled at the thought and its hilarity.

“All right, Slayer. Spit it out. What’s so bleeding funny?” Spike growled at her.

“You. . .look so. . .domestic. It’s like ‘My dad the demon,'” Buffy started to laugh.

“Shut up," Spike spat. “Did you bring my stuff?”

“Yeah,” Buffy set her book bag on the coffee table.

He reached for it and then stopped, “Could you just hand me the blood?”

She opened her bag and pulled out the hairbrush, the jelly, the crosses, and finally the blood. He grabbed it and the jelly and ran to the kitchen, putting them in the refrigerator.

“What did you need those for?”

“Jelly cause Eve’s gonna get tired of peanut butter sandwiches, and blood cause I finished my supply off at dinner.”

“And you couldn’t go get more yourself.”

“Not since I can’t leave the house, unless I wanted to take a bite out of Eve,” he was baiting her, and she knew it.

“Since when did you become best pals with humans?” Buffy asked sarcastically.

His demon hopped out for a second and snarled at her, “This is your fault, Slayer. I rescued her from some vamps that were hunting her. The got her parents first. So I’ve been playing William the bloody father for two days!”

“Why didn’t you call earlier?”

“When I said hunting, I meant it. Those vamps had orders to catch her, not drain her.”

“No vampire turns down a free meal,” Buffy said flatly.

“Wrong. We make exceptions. . .in special cases,” he licked his lips.

“Like how special?” Buffy asked.

“I’d better show you.” He stood and led her into the kitchen. He pointed to his refrigerator, ”See that?”

She looked, “Well, someone has a love affair with his appliances.” She indicated the drawings of the TV, toaster, and refrigerator.

“Not mine, those.” He pointed to a picture of what she guessed had to be Spike and one of. . .herself? It was a perfect rendition of her sketched in black crayon. “Those two are Eve’s.”

“How did she do that?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t know. Eve never saw you until tonight.”

“Then why did she call me the Chosen One?”

“I told her. I explained life here in Sunnyhell to her.” Buffy winced imagining what he’d told Eve. “Not to worry, Slayer. It was with Star Wars subtitles. The Watcher was Yoda and the wolf the Wookie.”

She laughed, “So that made me Princess Leia, I guess. So who are you? Did you tell her about-”

“My undying passion for Manchester United or me co-opting my body with a demon? Yeah, she knows. Sees me as Han Solo and Darth Vader.”

“I suppose that fits. Eve knew about me, drew me, but didn’t actually know it was me?”

“She doesn’t even remember drawing the picture.”

“Oh,” Buffy couldn’t think of a way to reply.

“There’s more,” He moved toward the counter and picked up something. “You remember Dru, of course you remember, she bagged Kendra and shacked up with the poof. Anywho, Dru was really into this stuff and she was usually right.” Spike set three Tarot cards on the table: Judgement, World, and Death. “Eve picked these.”

“So that’s the future, isn’t it?” Buffy said softly.

“Yep, hell is coming to earth, I’d guess at least,” Spike agreed.

“Why did Eve come here, as in Sunnydale?”

“I can’t be sure. I think her parents were trying to get her to you or the Watcher, but the vamps found them first.”

“Why didn’t they change her?”

“Maybe because they didn’t know it was her. Little kids for all of eternity are major pains in the arse so they might not have wanted to change the wrong girl. Or they might have been in huge trouble if they killed her by mistake while taste testing,” Spike ventured.

Buffy’s eyes hardened, “If they kept her, what would they have done to her?”

“Not a clue. Could be lots of things. They might be trying to see the future directly. A master may want control of the future. It happens, Angel and Dru for one. Problem with vampire seer is that they seem to go insane. A child could be easier to control. Even I knew Dru was out of her tree, and your ex-pet wasn’t able to control her,” he paused. “I can’t be sure about any of this. I’m not the seer.”

“We need to get Giles and Willow.” Buffy moved to the phone.

Spike’s hand clamped down on her arm. “No.”

“Why not?” Buffy said stiffly.

“They expect you to do that. The more people who know about Eve, the easier time they’ll have finding her.”

“Then I’m going home,” Buffy tried to exit.

“‘Fraid not..” Spike stood in front of her with his demon out. “I promised Eve you’d be here tomorrow. Hell, I even kissed you for her.”

“You-” She spat at him. He’d kissed her just for Eve’s benefit? “I’m going.”

“Can’t. I made sure I can’t enter her room. Also, she probably needs a bath, and I’m not giving it to her.” Spike’s last comment was all innocence as he pulled the demon back in.

“You planned this!” she accused.

“Not at all, but it's time someone else took up part of this problem with me. Another day of this and we might have gone completely stir crazy. You at least can take her outside during the day when it is relatively safe.”

“You really care for Eve, don’t you?”

He spread his hands, “Reminds me of Dru, okay. Or what she would have been like if she wasn’t a crazy vampire.”

“So that’s why you’ll keep her safe?”

“That and her visions saving the world and, incidentally, the Manchester United team.”

“So I spend the night here, help you wake Eve, and go to class? That’s it?”

“No. You come here every night after patrolling and spend time on the weekends here.”

“You’re kidding. I’ve got to do research on Eve, since we can’t tell Willow or Giles, and I do still have something resembling a life, unlike you.”

“Like it or not, Slayer, Eve has picked you for ‘Mum.' How do I tell her that ‘Mummy' hates ‘Daddy?’ Bring the Watcher’s diaries here and tell him in secret. No one else, no Red, demon girl, Xander, or that Initiative bloke Riley.” Spike’s voice rang with his ultimatum. “Remember, this is for Eve, not me. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t be standing in this room with you, and Eve would have been a meal.”

“I hate you,” Buffy bristled.

“Likewise. Bed or couch?”

“Bed,” she turned and headed to the bedroom. Spike trailed after her and watched her climb into his king-sized black water bed. He climbed in on the other side.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

“What does it look like. Even Eve knows that ‘Mummy and Daddy’ sleep in the same bed. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, this is a big bed. I stay on my side; you stay on yours. Your bloody virtue remains intact. Happy?”

“Not by a long shot, Dead Boy Junior,” Buffy said using Xander’s nickname for Spike.

“Believe me Slayer, it’s mutual.” Spike settled in comfortably on the left, and Buffy held tight to the right. She sat up. “I need to call Willow.”

“Go then. Make up whatever you need to. Just don’t tell her the truth.”

Buffy dragged herself out of the bed, kicking the covers off both of them. She picked up his cell phone from a nightstand and dialed her own room

“Hello, Willow?” Buffy said.

“Hello,” Willow’s taped voice said. “You have reached the room of the Wicked Witch and the samurai warrior, also know as Buffy’s and Willow’s room. If you are not currently running for your life, please leave a message, and we’ll get back to you. If you are, well good luck.”

“Will, it’s Buffy. I can’t talk long, but I won’t be coming home tonight. Don’t worry, everything is okay. I need to take care of some things. I’ll explain it all in class tomorrow. See ya.”

Crawling back into bed, Buffy said to Spike, “I’ve got to tell Willow.”

“Tell her what? ‘Red, I slept with Spike?’”

Buffy hit him on the head, “No. I’m not sharing this, but I meant the part about me staying here every night. Don’t you think my roommate will get suspicious if I never sleep in my own bed?”

“So you’ll stay here every night?” Spike asked propping himself up on an elbow.

She took a deep breathe, eyeing the sexy body next to her and realizing the trial this would be on her commitment and self-control. Could she spend every night and her weekends with Spike? Without going mad or going all the way? Was she willing to sleep in his bed for appearances only? For the sake of Eve and the future, she’d have to.

“I guess so. I still hate you.” She lay back down on her side, trying to pretend she was somewhere else. Anywhere but a few short feet from his hard masculine form.

“Fine,” he replied, turning of the light and laying back down. The Slayer was far too close to him for his piece of mind.

“Fine,” she answered shortly. And they tried to got to sleep, both acutely aware of the other within in touching distance. Buffy fought against her urge to roll over and wrap her arms around him, making his cold skin warm. Spike resisted his sudden desire to twine her hair in his hands and inhale that delectable vanilla scent from her neck. She buried her head in her pillow and tried to squash the impulses. He smashed his pillow a few times and attempted to ignore the call of his hormones. It was going to be a long night.

Buffy woke up in a very comfortable position. She felt very safe and warm with her arms twisted around . . . Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring directly into Spike’s sleeping face. She was on his side of the bed, burrowed up against his firm chest. His arms encircled her body, holding her close to him. Their legs were tangled together underneath the rumpled sheets. Fortunately all of her clothes were still in their proper places. Wiggling experimentally she tried to find a way to extract herself from her compromising position.

“Oh don’t do that, luv,” a sleepy voice rasped into her ear, and Spike rolled them over toward her side of the bed, tangling them even more in the sheet and each other. His hands began to trace little patterns on her back, and Buffy snuggled closer into their embrace. She had never know that newly awakened vampires were this amorous.

“So soft,” the voice said. “So sweet. So warm.” He started to pepper her neck with gentle little kisses. Buffy groaned in pleasure, and the hands responded by becoming bolder, slipping under her shirt. “Very warm.” The hands paused. “You can’t be warm.” Spike’s blue eyes flew open. “Oh, bugger it all! The Slayer!” He struggled ineffectually against the sheet. “I thought you were all innocent till you crawled over to my side at 4 a.m. This is all your bloody fault,” he wailed when he saw how ineffective his fight with the sheet was proving.

“It’s my fault? I didn’t wrap us in this sheet. It was all you.” Buffy said with difficulty, relishing his long lean length stretched out against her. She arched her back trying to put some distance between them but only succeeded in thrusting herself further onto his hips. A wave of pleasure swept over them both, and Buffy felt him hardening beneath her. She stared at his darkening eyes, her mouth half open in anticipation.

“Slayer,” he warned, “Don’t do that or things are about to become a whole lot more complicated in three seconds.” She licked her bottom lip very slowly, and he moaned, pulling her astride him. He was leaning forward intent on kissing her when the screams ran out.

He pulled back, "Shit.” He tried to disentangle himself. “Shit,” he repeated as he reached under his pillow to get something. A stake poked through the sheets, tearing a hole in it. Spike hastily tore apart the whole and scrambled out of bed, running to the guest bedroom.

She heard him yelp in pain and call out, “Dammit!” She hopped out of bed and entered the hall to see him smoking hands and all trying to force Eve’s door open. The acrid scent of burning flesh hung in the air, and Spike desperately attacked the door in an attempt to reach Eve.

Before he could damage himself farther, Buffy kicked him away from the door and opened it without any difficulty. Eve was sitting up on the white bed screaming her little heart out. Buffy picked her up and carried her into the living room past Spike who had been trying to cross the holy water and garlic.

“What is it Eve? Buffy asked stroking her hair.

Eve stopped screaming to look around wildly for Spike. “Daddy William!”

Spike limped over to the couch, putting an arm around the crying child. “What was it pet?”

“The bad men got you!” Eve cried even harder.

“No. See, they didn’t get me. I’m all here,” He winced. “Talk to Mommy for a minute. She’s here to help you too.”

Eve nodded and held onto Buffy’s arm until she felt less scared. Spike stood and lurched off into the bedroom. Buffy waited for a few minutes for Eve to finish calming down. Then she said, “Eve, can you set the table for breakfast? I’m gonna go check on Daddy William.”

“Okay,” Eve’s face changed like she was seeing around Buffy. “You are their Tool and I am their Voice.” She refocused on Buffy and scampered off to the kitchen.

Buffy found Spike fighting to wrap his bloody burned hands in white gauze. He was having alot of trouble since both his hands were gushing so much blood that he couldn’t get a good grip on the bandages.

“Let me.” Buffy commented tearing strips from the sheet Spike had trashed. “Next time, we take the couch.” She began using the strips to wrap his fists.

“No kidding,” he growled.

“I have Psych in like thirty minutes so I’ve got to go. After that I’m gonna fill Willow and Giles in on this whole Eve-is-a-seer thing.”

“You do that. And put an ad in the paper to, ‘Free eats at Spike’s house.’ Owww!” he exclaimed as she pulled one of his bandages particularly tight.

“Look, ‘Daddy William,’ I’m playing along with because the seer may save the world from whatever is up next. So I need my resident Watcher and Witch up to date.” She finished tying off the last bandage.

Spike looked down at his hands, “I liked those sheets.”

“You’re the one who ruined them. That’s why only Slayers are qualified to handle stakes.”

“I hate you.” Spike said, wishing he really meant it.

“I know. I’ve got to go.” Buffy strode toward the door. Spike watched her go.

“Okay Buffy, what’s up?” Willow asked following Buffy out of Professor Walsh’s Psych class. “Where were you last night!?”

“If I tell you, promise not to be mad.”

“Okay,” Willow agreed quickly.

Buffy braced herself, ”I spent the night at Spike’s.”

“BUFFY!!” Willow squawked.

“Shh! No, not like that. I was just at his house. This is gonna be a pretty long explanation, so just come with me to Giles’s.”

Willow hesitated for a moment. “You didn’t get any smoochies from him, did you? If you did, what about Riley? Or Angel? I mean, Spike is Angel’s childe and-”

“No, I didn’t get any smoochies from Spike!” Buffy said loudly in exasperation. Lowering her voice, she said, “Willow, this is a serious deal. Like the giant-principal-eating-snake serious deal.”

“Oh, that kind of deal. That means. . . we’ll probably be resorting to violence to solve this.”

“Something like that,” Buffy agreed. “Let’s go find Giles.”

Eve

DISCLAIMER:All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB, except Eve whom I made up myself. I do not own the Wizard of Oz either.
RATING:R, Contains violence and death
BACKGROUND: Season 4 story. Occurs several weeks after the events in Motivation. Buffy/Spike action. Thoughts are cited with * *

Three weeks later things seemed to be going smoothly, or as smoothly as things could for a seer, a slayer, and a vampire all living together under the same roof. During the day Spike and Buffy acted like a pair of happy parents for Eve's sake. Night was a different story because the tension between them was reaching a near intolerable level. They took care to sleep on the couch, always starting on opposite sides and always waking up curled together. The frustration took on other forms instead, usually loud arguments. One of the first came up over whether they should sleep in Eve's room or not. After much muted shouting they agreed that it would be better for Eve to experience as normal of a childhood as possible in whatever time she had remaining.

Days passed and both Buffy and Spike had the feeling that time for Eve was running out. Her visions became more frequent and violent. Spike continued to vampire-proof his house, which drove him to spend most of his time in the living room. Buffy could not begin to guess what it was like for him with the dual handicaps of being unable to move around his house and unable to leave the house. Despite herself, she had to admire Spike's sacrifices for Eve; he even quit smoking for her. She at least was able, sometimes, to take Eve outside to the backyard during the day. Night was out of the question, and the short jaunts outdoors made Spike very edgy. It seemed that no matter how many safeguards he set up or how many magic spells Willow cast for them, Eve would just have a more damning vision.

The drawings Eve continued to make were often covered with octagons, circles, and crosses. Spike had drawn every appliance and piece of furniture in his house at her insistence. He, Buffy noted, had particular difficulty dealing with the aftermath of Eve's visions since he revealed one night that he was sure with each vision they were one step closer to whatever was lurking outside. Buffy tried to allay his fears by having Eve choose tarot cards constantly, in the hopes of seeing a more clear future. Spike was grateful for her assistance, but nothing could reassure him.

Research was turning into a dead end too. Giles and Willow were pouring over various old Watcher diaries and magic books to no avail. No evidence of any spell resembling Eve's drawings was found, in fact, little information on seers in general was found at all. Willow cast and sent spells over to the house as often as possible, but her small charms and locator spells were likely to be nothing when compared to what was coming next.

Buffy helped research in what time was not spent at Spike's house with Eve. The 'sick friend' excuse did not float well with Riley effectively stalling what little of a relationship they had. The nightly patrol with Xander and Anya who had both been let in on the secret almost always proved uneventful. She was unsure whether to comforted or not. Based on past experience, a sudden lack of vampire activity was usually a sign of impending trouble.

A big break in the research occurred on a Thursday night before they had sent Eve to bed. Willow called.

"Buffy," she called out jubilation evident in her voice. "I found some stuff on seers!"

"You did? What is it?"

"Well, it appears that some group called the Powers That Be control the world. They keep the forces of Good and Evil in balance. When one side gets too strong they tip the scales in the other direction."

"So they sound helpful, assuming you live on the Hellmouth were evil is usually pretty close to winning," Buffy commented.

"They have people designated as 'Tools.' Their job is to fight the evil. When evil is too strong, they like to send in a 'Voice' which is a person psychically gifted to guide the 'Tool.'"

"This sounds kinda important. Why isn't this mentioned in the diaries more often?"

"Most seers in the diaries predict bad things and are killed on the same page. The only seer that consistently appears in the diaries is . . . Drusilla." She paused as if she were considering what to say next.

"Will, what is it?"

"I didn't get this form the Diaries. It came from Angel."

"What?"

"Angel sent Giles this letter two months ago, but it got lost and we found it today. He says that the Powers That Be chose him to be a Tool. They sent him this half-demon seer Doyle to guide him."

Buffy vaguely remembered Doyle from her visit a few months ago. He was a slender brown-haired guy who looked like he had a huge crush on Cordelia. "So can I talk to him? Maybe he can help us."

"I don't think so. Angel wrote this letter to Giles to tell us that . . . Doyle is dead." Silence. Spike turned with Eve on his lap to look at her frozen expression.

"Come again."

"He died Buffy, an atonement for his earlier sins. He sacrificed himself for a couple thousand people, Angel and Cordy included."

"But, why didn't Angel tell me? And what can Eve possibly have to atone for?"

"Slayer!" Spike called out as Eve began to writhe in his arms. Her eyes rolled back and her arms flailed wildly. She began to scream loudly.

"Willow, I've gotta go." Buffy hung up and ran to help Spike keep Eve from hurting herself.

"Soon!" called the deep voice. "The darkness is coming. The Tool shall make the choice. Evil done by good hands is evil. Good done by evil hands is good. The Voice will die broken by evil hands on the Tool!" The shaking suddenly ceased, and Eve sat up. "Eve's head hurts."

"Of course it does, pet," Spike pressed a fatherly kiss on her hair. "What was that about?"

"Willow found us another seer. Remember Angel's friend Doyle?"

"The Mick that smelled funny?"

"That 'Mick' was half-demon and could see the future. Apparently he was Angel's link to God or the Powers That Be. Angel is their Tool and Doyle was their Voice."

"So that makes you their Tool and Eve their Voice. When can this Doyle get here to help us?" Spike patted Eve's head.

"Can't. Dead," Eve answered before Buffy could open her mouth. Spike's face twitched, and he held Eve a little tighter. "Don't be scared, Daddy William."

"Nonsense, Eve. I'm not scared," he replied.

"You are. So's Mommy Buffy. My old mommy and daddy told me to never be scared." Eve said, "Don't be scared."

"Okay," Spike said. "We'll have to call Angel tomorrow afternoon. It's nighttime so he won't be in now anyway. There's nothing to worry about."

Nevertheless, Spike and Buffy slept in Eve's room with her sandwiched between them on the bed; stakes in hand.

Buffy showed up late the next day, a Friday. When she finally arrived, it was almost dark, and Spike had been pacing uncomfortably around the kitchen. He'd been watching Eve play with the tarot cards since noon. Without a doubt he was edgy and nearly at the end of his rope.

"You're late," he stated as she entered. Spike allowed himself a short smile; she had come dressed for the occasion. "Nice color scheme." She was wearing his kind of outfit, slinky red top with black loose pants and her hair was all up with pins of some type. All of her slaying supplies were held in a little black hip sack, he observed marveling at her different types of bags.

"You, too." She commented because he was wearing his working set of clothes, red overshirt, black jeans, and the duster. "Sorry I'm late. I met a few undead friends trying to snack on some pre-meds."

*She looks delicious,* he thought for a second before remembering why he was so tense. "Just call the nancy boy. He should be in doing some serious brooding or something." He indicated the phone on the wall.

"Okay," She picked up the phone and dialed the number for Angel Investigations. Nothing happened. She dialed again and again nothing happened. She hung up the phone and picked it up again, listening for a dial tone. There was nothing. "Spike. The phone is dead." No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the power on the street went out."

His voice deadly serious, Spike said, "We've been caught." He checked the time and tried to guess how long until sundown. Less than ten minutes he figured. Whoever was behind this had planned it well. With the power out, the security system was completely worthless. They had two choices, stay here and wait for them to come in, or make a run for it. Spike gazed at Eve and Buffy for a second. He reached his decision. "If you take her now, you two may be able to get out before they try to come in."

"What about you? I'm not leaving without-" She faced is dark blue eyes.

"Save Eve and yourself. I don't matter. You are the Tool, and she is the Voice. They may leave me alive, I know they won't give you the same option." He picked up Eve from her chair, interrupting her tarot card flipping. "Take her! NOW!'

Buffy hefted Eve onto her back, pulled out a stake, and stared at him. The Slayer had been around the block a few times, and she knew he was going to sacrifice himself for her and Eve. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Spike shoved her away roughly, his demon on the surface. "Bloody GO!" She turned and ran out the door.

As they left Eve called out, "Love you Daddy William." The door closed and he barred it.

Spike stood waiting for the inevitable attack. Of all the dumb things he had ever done, this was probably the stupidest yet. He was standing, patiently waiting to fight off his own kind after letting his mortal enemy, the Slayer, escape with the seer. If he wasn't so worried, he would have laughed at himself. He hoped Buffy and Eve made it; he knew he probably wouldn't. He glanced down at the table and picked up the last two cards Eve had drawn: Judgment and the Wheel of Fortune. A sudden impulse told him to go to the refrigerator. He held up the Wheel of Fortune to Eve's drawings of crosses and circles. The patterns matched perfectly.

So that was it. The answer had been right in front of them the whole time. But the future wasn't complete until the third card had been chosen. Spike took the next card off the top of the deck. And cursed. This proved it, he was stupid. He held the Fool in his hand. Sending Buffy away had been a mistake. It was a trap.

A rock crashed through his kitchen window, but he ignored it. He ran to the living room and kicked down his front door. Growling, he confronted the twenty vampires lined up in his yard. They must have been hiding in the neighbors' houses or cars to have arrived so quickly after sunset. It didn't bode well for the neighbors, but Spike had more serious concerns on his mind. Staking two of the closest vampires, he managed to crash through the pack with only a few bruises. He sprinted off into the darkness following the familiar vanilla scent of the Slayer. As he placed some distance between himself and his pursuers, he hoped with his entire undead heart that he wouldn't be to late.

After a minute of running, he had his answer. He ran smack into the ambush the vampires had caught the Slayer in. It was in the same copse of trees he'd rescued Eve from a month earlier. Judging by the piles of dust, the Slayer must have run in and been jumped by twenty other vampires. She was weaponless, valiantly fending off four of the ten circling her with her bare hands when Spike burst on the scene. As he entered he saw, her go down.

Holding nothing back, he was on her attackers, a blur of motion kicking and swinging his stake in a deadly arc. He cut through them like butter, slashing his way to the Slayer. With deadly efficiency he dispatched the two holding her down. The remaining few backed off, and Spike knelt down by her. Brushing the blood from her cut forehead, he shook her back into consciousness. "Slayer. Wake up. Come on, wake up."

"Spike," she gasped out. "Eve. . ." Her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Buffy! Stay with me!" Pushing back his fear, he shook her harder, "Where's Eve?"

"They. . .they took. . . her." She slumped against him, and her barely heard her whisper, "It's . . .a trap."

"At least she got that right,' a voice said from behind him. Spike turned in time to see the group of vampires he had run from join the ones in the copse. And he also got to see the close-up view of the crowbar descending on his head.

Spike woke to excruciating pain in his right shoulder. His eyes flew open to see an iron peg being pounded into him. He was dimly able to notice he was upright against the stone wall of some type of cave. A grinning vampire with a sledgehammer laughed when Spike's demon snarled in pain. "Master Spike, you should have never come back here to Sunnydale."

"Just couldn't resist the attributes of good ole Sunnyhell," Spike replied, trying to clear the haze from his vision.

"Or the Slayer, I see." The vampire jerked his head toward Spike's left. Moving his head painfully, Spike saw the Slayer chained up against the wall too. She was bruised and unconscious, her clothes torn in several places and her hair popping out of its pins. "Does she taste as good as she looks?"

"I wouldn't know, pillock," Spike retorted.

"Wrong again," the vampire said and gleefully used pounded another metal peg into him, this time in the left shoulder above the heart. "We've been watching you for some time now."

The pain was tremendous. It reminded him of when Dru had pulled him out from under the organ the Slayer had dropped on him. Every nerve protesting, he began to feel like a butterfly being pinned on a tray. Or a frog being prepared for dissection. He considered struggling, but, since the vampire had more pegs, he decided against it.

Seeing he wasn't going to show anymore resistance, the vampire lowered his hammer and slunk away laughing. Spike allowed himself to relax slightly. He was only nailed to the wall, fortunately not chained like the Slayer. Blinking a few times, he tried to make his eyes penetrate the darkness in front of him. Something strange was in the air because even his demon-enhanced eyes couldn't see past the Slayer. His duster he saw was laying on the floor by his feet. Smiling at his good fortune, he kicked it experimentally and was rewarded with the sound of breaking glass. If he'd broken what he thought he did, they had a chance to get away. First he had to free himself and the Slayer, and then they'd find Eve.

There was the whine of a generator kicking on, and the room was bathed in bright artificial light. When his eyes adjusted, Spike felt a sinking feeling about what would happen next. He recognized this place, it was one of the many mausoleums in one of the many Sunnyhell cemeteries. He didn't miss the huge Wheel of Fortune newly etched into the stone floor. Nor were he and the Slayer alone, they had the company of about twenty some vampires shifting uncomfortably as something approached form the depths of the crypt. The vampire crowd parted for him to see three very familiar figures.

Drusilla, her new fungus demon boyfriend, and, being half-carried and half-drug, Eve. Spike hardly glanced at Dru's mad eyes or the slimy demon; Eve held his attention. She was dressed in a new little white dress with her hair bound up behind her head. The first thought in his mind was one word 'sacrifice,' and the second was an affirmation of the rightness of the first.

Stepping away from her demon, Drusilla strode up to him in her matching white dress. "Hello, my Spike. You've been very bad." She held up her doll also dressed in white. "Miss Edith says you belong to her, the Daddy killer." She walked over and slapped Buffy. The Slayer woke quickly and lunged at Dru.

Her forward motion was stopped by a slap from the fungus demon. Spike hated fungus demons; this one was human looking if you didn't notice he had green jelly for skin. Also he was somewhat translucent, not having any bones and being made of slime. His filmy eyes twitched as he bubbled, "Keep away from my girl."

Buffy looked him at his gooey face and said, "Your 'girl' isn't playing with a full deck." She received another slap for her insolence.

"See, luv, I told you they were here," Dru let Eve see her 'parents.'

Eve ran toward Spike. "Daddy William!"

One of the vampires in the crowed pulled her back. It was Brian, one of Spike's minions from his time months back with Harmony. Spike's eyes flashed as her recognized the betrayal of one of his children.

"Brian, what the Hell are you doing. I'm your bloody sire."

Wincing in response, Brian squared his shoulders. "My sire ate humans. He didn't shack up with them. My sire also would have been smart enough to live in a different house than the one I helped him get."

So they'd know all along where Spike was living. He, the Slayer, and her little friends had all been fools to believe he'd been able to hide at all.

Drusilla took Eve's hand. "It's time now. Can you hear the air singing?" Brian stepped forward with the book Ford had stolen from the Watcher way back before Angel had lost his soul. Spike had not been aware that Drusilla still had it.

"Ever wonder why you never found much on seers? It was all here." Brian caressed the cover of the book. "Oh yeah, there were seers at the Salem witch trials. The mob hung the seer, the Slayer, and the Watcher all at the same time."

"Oh, tell us the story. Tell us the one with the Wheel," Drusilla cooed.

Fungus man nodded to Brian, and Dru danced her way toward the Wheel of Fortune, dragging Eve with her. Brian carefully opened the book and read. "After a Slayer has been active for four years, which is extremely rare, the Powers will send a voice gifted with psychic powers to aid the Slayer in her fight against the darkness. The seer is the gateway between the Powers That Be and this world." He closed the book.

"Now lets imagine someone forces the gateway open." The fungus demon lifted his fist. "The power would anchor itself onto the seer, making her a channel to the power of the gods."

"And how would that help? You're screwing with some heavy magic there. If you don't contain the power, you'll turn the whole world into a giant pile of ash. And even if you held it, opening all that power on the seer would kill her," Buffy said in an annoyed tone.

"I see you've been around to see the end of the world a few times. The Wheel will contain the power, and as for the seer, killing her as the door opens permanently forces it open."

"You don't seem much like you're into one time deals, mate. Once you kill the seer, doesn't the power die with her?" Spike said.

"The seer won't be alive, true; she'll just be a little undead. That way the power will never stop. She won't be able to use the power, but anyone how feeds off her will." The demon laughed.

"No!" Spike screamed as the fungus demon's words sunk in. They were going to make Eve into a vampire and feed off her endless power supply for all eternity. It would make them gods. With effort he controlled himself and changed his tone. "Dru, my black goddess, do you remember the Annoying One. All that power with no personality. Wasn't one of those buggers bad enough?"

In response Dru knelt down next to Eve, "Little angel, Princess likes children. Can I be your Mummy forever and ever?"

Eve pushed her away, "Not the princess or my mommy!"

Dru lifted Eve up by the throat, cutting off her air. Spike forced himself to remain motionless. "I'll be you Mummy! Miss Edith says so. We'll make sure your old Mummy is the first one you eat. Slayers are so yummy. They never get stuck in your teeth."

With defiance, Spike wished he could take credit for, Eve gasped out, "Daddy William will stop you."

Cradling Eve to her, Drusilla whispered into Eve's ear, "Daddy William ate little girls like you. And they cried, all crying when he got them 'Tastes like chicken,' my Spike said."

Her eyes scared, Eve looked at Spike and saw Drusilla's words confirmed by his face. While she may have know what he was, Eve was still just a little girl who had believed her daddy incapable to cruelty of any kind. Eve became very still and allowed Drusilla to stroke her hair. "No," Eve said in a small shocked voice.

"You bloody touch her Dru and I swear I will pour holy water down your gullet after I burn Miss Edith just for grins." He fought against the pegs again drawing all eyes in the room on him. Ignoring the burning pain, he was aware of Buffy stealthily reaching up, pulling a pin from her hair, and working it into her locks.

"Shut up, Fangs." The fungus demon shoved Spike into the wall, laughing as the pegs ground into his bones. "Start the ritual," he commanded.

Eve was forced by Drusilla to lay down spread eagle in the center of the wheel. The demon brought twin iron pegs and proceeded to pound them into each of Eve's wrists. Her terrified screams were horrible to hear, filling up the space in the crypt. For the first time in over a century, Spike began to pray. Brian chanted in Latin, beseeching the Powers to deliver themselves to the site. Eve writhed against the nails, her skin beginning to glow faintly with a blue light, the power of the beyond. Dru leaned over her and prepared to started feeding on the small seer.

"I wouldn't do that, ducks," Spike interrupted loudly. Dru's demon face snapped up from her intended meal to see Buffy loose from her chains. Simultaneously the crypt door swung open, revealing the Slayerettes in full fighting regalia: Willow armed with a holy water filled water-gun, Xander carrying a long crossbow, Anya holding a cross and a stake, and Giles decked out in cross after cross with some attached to chains. "Not even the Slayer's groupies could miss me breaking the locator spell the witch put in my duster's pocket."

For a moment the two sides regarded each other warily, and Spike wondered if it would end up in a Mexican standoff. He didn't have to wait long because as a wave the vampires surged at the Scooby gang, trying to overwhelm them by sheer force of numbers. The first onslaught was blunted by Willow covering the first rank with holy water. The fungus demon took that as an opportunity to rush the Slayer. Spike lost sight of Drusilla and Eve amid the smoking vampires. Groaning mightily, Spike hurled himself forward against the pegs and used his momentum to force them out his back. He crashed down, landing hard on his duster. From his perspective on the ground, he saw the vampires were having serious problems with the Scooby gang. The water gun was particularly deadly, cutting down anyone who tried to charge at them. Xander was giving a good account of himself firing his crossbow as fast as his hands could reload it. A veteran of many demonic battles, Anya was wielding her stake and cross as cover for Xander and the witch. The Watcher was swinging his chains of crosses, whipping them into any unlucky vampire.

The Slayer was another story because she and the fungus demon were fairly well matched. She was faster, but he was able to shift his gelatinous mass around most of her punches. Spike briefly debated helping her only to discard the thought when he saw Drusilla and Eve.

Dru had taken advantage of the battle to start feeding on the glowing seer. Her eyes were rolled back in near orgasmic joy as Eve's breathing slowed. Eve's bright green eyes were rapidly dimming, and Spike already knew he was going to be too late.

A sound rose form his throat, a deep keening cry of an animal too angry to scream. He knocked Drusilla off Eve with a flying tackle that sent them rolling across the floor. The bloodlust upon him, Spike was madly punching and tearing at her face when she delivered a sharp uppercut to his jaw. Her strength, enhanced by the power in Eve's blood, sent him flying across the room.

She giggled insanely almost floating, the magic of the gods singing in her veins. There was a blaze of dark power shining through her, and it grew brighter with each passing second. Spike never bothered to consider the odds, for he jumped at her, arms outstretched, practically out of his mind in rage. Dru caught him with one careless hand and cradled him into a crushing bear hug. His face close to hers, he gazed deeply into her crazy eyes for a short second. Her eyes were merry, never believing that her Spike could seriously harm her.

One of her hands released him and brushed his blonde hair. The hand began to shine with the burning magic energy she had absorbed. "It's all right, my Spike. Princess will make it quick."

"Wrong." Game face on, he shoved the stake that he had been concealing into her heart. She stared at him for one disbelieving moment and crumbled into dust.

"NO!" an agonized voice bellowed from behind him. The fungus demon seized Spike and tossed him into the Slayerettes. Narrowly missing being staked, burned, and fried, he rolled tiredly onto his stomach, shoulder wounds bleeding freely.

The demon was preparing to charge again when he was hit with some kind of liquid. He spun around in outrage to face his enemy.

"Hey Shroom man!" Buffy called, pouring some of the liquid on a stake. "As Cordelia might say, 'Wanna play with fire, Scarecrow?'" She lit a match, which ignited the stake and threw it into him. The liquid caught on fire instantly and he, equally disbelieving, disappeared in a cloud of foul smelling smoke.

The Watcher gave her an odd look. She shrugged her shoulders, "I had nail polish remover in my bag. I was going to show Eve how to paint her nails."

"Eve," Spike whispered staggering to his feet. Buffy shot a glance at Eve, and ran up to him to hold him back.

"You don't have to do this. I can do it," she said softly.

He pushed her aside wearily. "No, I've got to be the one." Spike continued to limp toward the small still-glowing figure nailed to the floor.

When he knelt the first thing his mind noticed was the cast of her skin, an unhealthy and unnatural white, despite the light shining through her. She had two deep, painful-looking holes in the left side of her neck. He touched the dark curls on her forehead and felt the iciness of her skin. Spike examined her mouth and knew the truth when he saw the trickle of red blood in the corner. She must have drank some vampire blood. Drusilla had done her work well, even if she would never get to enjoy it.

Eve's eyes opened, their light a fading green. "Daddy William. . ."

"Yes, luv," he said urgently, grabbing one of her cool hands.

"Eve is cold." She closed her eyes and reopened them. "Remember your promise?"

"I do, pet," Spike confirmed.

"Please Daddy William," Eve begged, the light in her eyes fading.

Spike turned to the Slayer. "Give me the bloody gun!" No one moved. "NOW!" he howled. Willow ran up and handed him her water gun. He took it and pulled her extra stake out of her coat pocket. He set it on his lap as he removed the gun's canteen of holy water.

With painful gentleness, he tilted Eve's mouth open and began to pour the water down her throat. His hands shook slightly as the image of him doing the same to her parents floated by his mind. The water spilled, burning layers of skin off both hands. He paid no attention to it and reached for the stake. Taking a last glance, he brushed his bloody burned hand across her cold forehead.

She looked like a sleeping angel, marred only by the crimson stain his hand had left on her face. The angel opened her flat yellow eyes and gazed directly into his matching set. A flicker of recognition flashed in them just before Spike plunged the stake down into her heart. The angel dissolved into a smooth pile of dust.

There was a deafening silence.

Buffy crept up next to him and laid a hand on his arm. "We have to leave. You're losing lots of blood."

He stood. With sure steps he picked up his duster, placing the stake in one of his pockets. Tilting his head at the Scooby gang he said, "So it ends. I'm going home."

"That's it?" Xander gulped in disbelief.

"What did you expect? Tears? She was just a bloody human, a meal that didn't make it." Ignoring them he walked to the back of the crypt. He picked up the forgotten Miss Edith from Drusilla's ashes and stuck her in his duster. "I'm out of here."

At his exit Buffy shakily said, "I'll go with him. I need to pick up my stuff anyway." Her breath caught in her throat. "Don't expect me around for a few days. I - I need to deal with all of this."

Willow nodded, "Careful though. Drusilla and her people took down the whole Sunnydale power grid. Lights, telephones, and everything is out. It probably even knocked out the Initiative." She wrapped Buffy in a hug as Buffy dissolved into tears.

Wiping the wetness from her cheeks, Buffy stepped away. "I've got to go. Make sure Spike doesn't hurt himself."

Xander did not agree, "Deadboy Jr. doesn't care about this. Why should you care about what he does?"

"Then why did he take Miss Edith?" Buffy followed Spike's example, leaving her friends to ponder what she meant.