“You’re sure ‘bout this now, Red?”

Hands on his shoulders, Willow pushed him into the seat placed in the circle of carefully laid pebbles and crystals.

“Would you quit worrying already? I’m not gonna turn you into a speckled toad or anything!” She grabbed a handful of cinnamon and spice, sprinkling it around his head and onto his shoulders. She tried to stifle a giggle at his uncharacteristic look of wide-eyed vulnerability. “Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise! I’m just gonna fix your little problem for you. It’s a very simple spell,” she added matter-of-factly.

Spike’s hand flew up to the left side of his neck where a particularly vicious attack by a Zillarxiach demon had left a deep tissue scar running diagonally, nearly all the way down his chest. It had been nearly a week, and even with the advantages of vampire healing and his usual tendencies to brush off pain, his discomfort had been more than apparent to the youngest of the Summers siblings.

Spell book in hand, Dawn lazed on the couch. “According to this, all the spell’s gonna do is restore the damaged skin and tissue at the site of injury.” She scanned the next few lines before peering excitedly over the top of the book and adding, “Oh! And add elasticity and bounce!”

“Yeah?” Spike gave her a wary glance and recoiled as Willow waved a sprig of rosemary and thyme in his direction. “If it’s just at the site, why does the whole of me need to be inside your little evil... circle of herbal cookery?”

“It’s not evil!” She reprimanded him. “Just a little youth spell. Now, open up and say ‘Ahh’.”

“Youth! I’m a—argg!” He gagged a little when Willow pushed a tissue inside his mouth and proceeded to take a swab of his saliva. “I’m a vampire!” He croaked, trying to rid his tongue of the tissue-y fibres. “Those with the eternity of youthfulness? Already screwing with age and time here, Will. I don’t think we need to go ‘bout tempting the fates and what not.”

She held him still has she dabbed the fluid lightly on the scar at his neck and on his breast bone. “You’ll be thanking me when that Grand Canyon in the middle of your chest’s all filled up and you can stop scratching for once! Drink this.”

Spike eyed the glass and the crushed orchid petals that floated inside. Mouth open and about to protest, he quickly downed the contents when Willow’s eyes flashed and she ordered him again to drink. Coughing, he made a face and stuck his tongue out as the concoction burned its way down his throat.

“What the hell was in that?”

“Oh, just water mixed with brown sugar, rose and vanilla essence and the petals.” Dipping more rosemary into a similar mix of ingredients, Willow flicked it along his scars so that little water droplets flew everywhere.

Dawn’s jaw dropped. “That’s gros—I mean...really... lovely!” He sent a low growl in her direction.

Oblivious to their displays of disgust, Willow clapped excitedly and took her place kneeling before the vampire. “Okay! I think we’re all ready to start now!” Eyes closed, she placed a hand on his forehead, the other over his heart.

“Why do I have a bad feelin’ ‘bout this?” he muttered as she began to chant.

“Sugar and spice, oh essence of Spike,

Take of the Water and of the Earth too,

The pure of heart and strength of mind,

Restore this form, its youthful state.”

“Willow? Is that meant to be happening?”

She opened her eyes at Dawn’s warning tone. The bleached blond appeared to be in a state of trance, a shimmering haze glowering from the point of his heart.

Dawn approached him carefully. “Aren’t you...weren’t you supposed to touch his scars at some point?”

“No. I mean...I don’t...I don’t think so! The book said head and heart if the wounds were extensive or at several locations on the body.”

Dawn squinted down at the book as the haze glowed brighter and brighter. “Head or heart!” she exclaimed. “Head and heart to...oh my god. Willow!”

The girls cried out, turning away and shielding their eyes as the light grew blinding and bounded throughout the room. Another split second and all seemed to have returned to normal. Dawn gasped for breath and reached for Willow as bright clouds of light danced behind her eyelids.

“Willow, are you okay?” She could vaguely make out as the red-head nodded shakily. “Spike. We have to check on him.”

Dazed, she crawled on her hands and knees. “Spike? Are you alright? Like, say something? I can’t really see properly.” She flailed her arms around in front of her. “Where are you?”

Suddenly, she heard a little rustling, and following the sound managed to pull herself right up to the chair where he’d been sitting.

“Spike?”

She blinked quickly a couple of times, trying to clear her sight. Looking up the rather fuzzy outline of the chair leg, she pulled herself up right and found herself eye to eye with a very nude, blue-eyed, gurgling baby boy. Her sight seemed to have returned clear as day.

“Spike? Oh my God!” She took hold of his tiny hands, unable to hold in a smile as he grasped one of her fingers in each hand and wriggled his little toes. “Willow! He’s a—“

The front door crashed open. “Hey! Dawnie? I’m home!”

To be continued...

Baby Spike was giggling happily when Dawn scooped him up and turned to get ready to face her big sister.

“Hey Buffy! How was patrol?” she called out.

“I think it was vamp rave night or something!” Came her reply from the hallway. “Help would have been of the good. I was thinking about dropping by Spike’s, but then I figured I should probably let him recover since that Zillgy demony thingy decided to use him as a tub of ice-cream.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Dawn bounced him gently in her arms, sending Willow a panicked expression. “I uh...I forgot... about that.”

“Hey Will! Ah, are you Miss Babysitter again?” Buffy threw them energised smiles as she entered the room and Dawn felt her eyes widen when Spike gurgled loudly and flailed his young limbs as Buffy leaned into take a look at him. “Aw, Dawnie, he’s cute! Wow, look at those eyes! They’re so blue! And his hair’s so blonde. He’s like a mini Spike! Hah! Could you imagine that? Spike as a bab—”

Dawn strained a laugh, interrupting her sister and shooting Willow a look. “Hah! Hah! That’s just the funniest! Well, I’m gonna just get this little guy upstairs and then we’ve got some work— I mean I’ve got some homework to do!” And with that she pulled him away from a cooing Buffy and hurried to her room, Willow close on her heels.

~

Exhausted, Buffy flopped down onto the couch. It sure had been a rough couple of weeks, with every movement her body ached and protested. Demon activity had been rife, and since Spike’s injury, she’d felt the brunt of her action-packed patrols a little more every night. Spike. She heaved a sigh and curled up amongst the cushions, a secret smile flitting across her lips. He’d made the patrols a little easier; enjoyable, she’d go as far to say. It had been nice, just the two of them walking the cemeteries and dark alleys together.

She recalled the night of his injury with a tug of guilt. Caught quite unaware, the Zillarxiach demon had his claws raised and ready to slice her clean in half when Spike had pushed her aside and taken the blow. A good chunk of his neck had been torn away, not to mention the deep ravines that had been carved across his chest; she’d never heard such an agonised scream. He’d been near unconscious when she heaved him back to his crypt and attempted to bandage his wounds, but there had been little she could do other than re-stock his fridge with fresh supplies of blood.

They looked in each other for a friend, and sometimes those looks led to feelings which burned a little warmer than friend. She was more than aware of his true feelings for her, but she couldn’t take advantage of that. No, as much as she tried to deny it, she cared too much about their relationship and was too confused by it to act on her impulses. She sighed again. The week had been hard without him by her side ninety percent of the time.

Rolling off the couch she decided to pay him a visit when a familiar coat draped over the stair banister caught her eye. Spike had come by? A piercing infant wail rang out from upstairs and she made her up to find some answers.

~

“We really should find him some clothes or something,” said Willow. “Or at least an extra blanket or something, he must be cold.”

“Oh! What about milk? Food? Willow, how are we going to turn him back?” Dawn tucked her old baby blanket tightly around him, letting him grasp at her fingers as he pleased. “And we’ll need nappies as well. And how are we going to keep this from Buffy? Or...do we just tell her?”

“No! No, I can take care of it. There’s no reason that she needs to find out. I’ll get researching on a reversal spell straight away.” She nodded certainly. “I can fix it, I’m sure of it!”

Leather duster in hand, Buffy stuck her head in the doorway. “Hey! What are we fixing?”

Willow let out a surprised squeak, rather unsuccessfully masking her panic. “Buffy! No! Oh, nothing! Me!” She tapped her head of red waves. “Just my brain!”

Buffy sat herself on Dawn’s bedside, tenderly stroking the little baby’s stomach. “Did Spike come by today? His coat was downstairs.”

“Oh...um, yeah he did, just after you left to patrol.” Dawn shifted her glance uncertainly to Willow. “I was just going to take it back to him tomorrow.”

“I’ll take it back to him now then. I was just crypt bound.”

“Oh! A-are you sure?” Stepping forwards, Willow wrung her hands.” You know, it’s getting kind of late Buffy. Maybe you should just stay in?”

Dawn shot the red-head another look. She wanted to keep Buffy in the house? They needed time alone to figure out how to turn Spike back to his normal century old self.

“No, no. It’s cool! I think you should go and see him. Before he seemed kind of...” She looked down at the infant and his waving limbs. “Restless. Make sure he drinks his blood! Take as long as you need, don’t worry about us or anything. You should go!”

“Okay then, don’t wait up.” As she got up ready to leave, young Spike let out a cry, his infant features crumpling with discontent.

“Buffy, wait!” With a strange shuffle, Willow bounded in front to block her way.

Suspicion rife at their behaviour, she sighed with resign. “Alright, what have you been up to? Does it have something to do with this baby?” Buffy looked at her sister with wide eyes. “Did you have one of those secret pregnancies?”

“What?! No!...Babysitting!”

Willow stepped in, still wringing her hands. She raised her voice to make herself heard over Spike’s continuing cries. “No! We’re not up to anything! I just don’t think it’s a good idea you going out so late.”

“Nope, you’re up to something!” Buffy shook her head with a knowing smile. “And I’m going to figure it out! And—oh my god! What is wrong with that baby? Does he ever stop crying?”

Dawn jumped to his defence. “He just needs to be fed, that’s all!”

“Okay, so feed him already!”

With a disapproving click of her tongue, Buffy went to scoop him up and noticed with pleasant surprise how the cries stopped as quickly as they had started.

“Hey there, mini-Spike,” she cooed. “Let’s get some nummy milk into that tummy of yours. Dawnie, where’s his baby formula?”

With Buffy already making her way down to the kitchen, Willow quickly conjured up a tin of formula and a baby bottle. Only some moments later, and Buffy was cradling the young blonde in one arm and feeding him from the other. For a few mouthfuls he suckled happily and she couldn’t help but smile as his look of innocence. But before too long, it was clear something was very wrong indeed.

He began to cough up the liquid, more cries ringing out through the house. Buffy struggled not to drop him when he began to kick his legs and flail his arms. As she tried to console him, she heard the familiar sound of shifting bone and let out surprised scream.

“Oh my God! Dawn! Vampire! Baby vampire!”

Clearly distressed, the infant vampire raised his little hands to the pronounced ridges running along his brow.

“What do I do?” She cried out. “Do I stake him? But he’s just a little baby, I can’t!”

There was a sudden thundering as Willow and Dawn flew down the hallway. “No stakes! It’s Spike! Don’t stake him! It’s Spike!”

She looked down incredulously at the crying bundle in her arms, gently stroking the ridges with the pad of her thumb and an amused grin touching her lips.

“Spike?”

Suddenly the tiny ridges receded and his cries had reduced to sniffles. A little hand reached out to grab at her hair and he blinked up at her innocently, a contented gurgle escaping his young lips.

To be continued...

“I can’t believe you turned him into a baby!”

Wrapped in soft blanket and blissfully unaware of the growing panic around him, little Spike lay on the couch murmuring happily as he stretched his fingers and reached for his feet.

“We were trying to help!” Willow gestured to the young infant. “And look! We were successful! Scars are gone! He’s just...”

“A baby!” Buffy shrieked. “A little...,” her voice softened. “Little baby Spike.”

A heavy sigh and she dropped herself down on the couch beside him. She smiled when he grabbed at her fingers which gently rubbed at his chest.

“Okay...well, what do we do now? How do we...adult him up again?”

“I’ve got a rough idea on a reversal spell, but there’s just some details that I need to smooth out. Just to make sure that nothing else, you know...goes wrong again. And I’ll need to get some ingredients too.” Willow went to kneel on the floor by Buffy’s knees. “I’m so sorry about this Buffy. Dawn and I, we were just trying to help. I’ll make this right again, I promise.”

“I know. I know you will.” Buffy gave her friend a tired smile. Willow really needed to start watching how she used her powers, but matters were getting too urgent to allow for a lecture. She put a supportive hand on her shoulder. “So you can work on the spell and Dawn can watch Spike. I have to go and find him some blood; we can’t wait till tomorrow to feed him.”

~

It was nearing midnight when Buffy returned home for the second time that night. This time she was laden with the supplies of blood that she’d put in Spike’s fridge. Now with a warm bottle of blood in one hand and him in the other, it was feeding time again.

“Drink up baby Spike! This is what you want, isn’t it?”

Tiny hands reaching in the direction of the bottle, he let out a happy cry. But one mouthful later and Buffy found her favourite white tank top spattered with a rejected blood.

“Gross, Spike! Urgh! What’s the matter now?” Frustrated, she dropped the bottle in the sink and looked down at her top in despair.

Perched on a stool at the kitchen island and inspecting her nails, Dawn looked up at her sister and gave her a casual shrug. “It’s probably the pig’s blood,” she stated simply. “Little Spikey can’t grow into a big boy vampire on yucky pig’s blood now can he?”

“Talk about a whole other level of breast feeding!” Jumping off the stool, she went to give Buffy a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck with that, I’m off to bed! Goodnight baby Spike!”

“Alright, baby Spike,” she sighed. “I guess it’s just you and me for the rest of the night.”

Buffy dragged herself to the living room and flopped back onto the couch, resting him against her chest. She needed human blood. Phooey. It was blatantly clear what her options were. Well, option to be correct. Eyelids growing heavy, she rolled her head against the cushions to look down at him.

“Poor little guy, you must be getting hungry.” She trailed a finger lightly through his cashmere-soft hair and whispered, “Sorry.”

He just looked up at her with wide angelic eyes, his little lips parted innocently. He’d been strangely quiet ever since Dawn had retired upstairs. Sitting up, she watched him curiously.

“Are you just big Spike inside a baby’s body?” she asked accusingly. He didn’t move a muscle and she sighed again. “There will be no breast feeding! So it’s no use you looking at me like that. Okay, so you can have some of my blood, but from my... there; no!” He didn’t make a sound, just blinked. “Alright! Alright. I guess it’s time to bring out the fangs and the lumpies then.”

Taking her right wrist, she sucked her own skin, trying to draw the blood to the surface before touching it to his lips. She supposed that he could smell it, as the vampiric features descended and she felt a prick against her skin. After six mouthfuls, she felt his fangs withdraw and heard that shift of bone as he returned to his human visage.

“All better now?”

She rubbed his small back and smiled as she watched his fragile eyelids gradually fall shut. Since her return from the grave, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled so often in only a day.

~

Now comfortable in her oversized sleeping t-shirt, she crawled into bed beside his little sleeping form. She tucked the baby blankets in around him and stroked his rounded cheek, giggling quietly when he let out a contented murmur.

“You know, there are a lot of reasons I’d like this to be one crazy dream but...I wouldn’t be too disappointed if it wasn’t. For one, you’re a lot easier to talk to like this. No zippy, British comebacks and no...annoyingly accurate insights.” His eyes flickered open at this and he wriggled his fingers. “I think you have this wrong, you’re meant to close your eyes at sleep time.” He just gurgled happily in reply.

“Hmm, you’re just a little bit cute aren’tcha?” She laughed and traced a comforting pattern on his chest. “Who’s the Big Bad now?”

At this, he flailed his little arms and legs, crying out as though in answer. Giggling, she snuggled closer. She couldn’t help but see the humour in the situation. All those times she’d let herself entertain the fantasy of sharing a bed with Spike, and now she really was.

“There are some... things that I’ve been wanting to tell you,” she began quietly. “I know you don’t really understand me right now...I’m sorry.” She took his little hand, stroking his skin. “But I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for...looking out for me these last couple of weeks since I, you know, got back. It’s been nice, knowing that you’re...here for me, to listen to me. It’s nice having someone who understands.”

He really did understand. Not just what she was experiencing, but her. Spike understood her. He understood the way she thought, the way she reasoned, the reasons for her reasons. He could listen to her fumbling explanations and sum up each of her tumultuous emotions in one perfect sentence. He watched her with those eyes; those eyes which seemed to shine with a constant adoring surprise that she was really there, really talking to him.

Things used to be so clear and simple. He’d have some ridiculous evil vampire plan, she’d find a way to stop him, he’d call her names, she’d call him names, they’d fight and she’d win. And sometimes things still were that clear. He’d tell her how he planned to eat his way through Sunnydale when he got the chip out of his head. He’d crack tasteless jokes about Giles and his Watcher ways, about taking a bite out of Xander. She’d lay out a couple of punches, a black eye and threaten him with a chest full of stake.

But then her hand would brush his as they fought side by side, she’d catch him watching her with eyes reserved for those of a lover. He’d say her name in his rich and soothing voice and it’d come out on a breath so natural, as though saying her name were an innate part of his existence. Her heartbeat would quicken and her body would warm and tingle. The woman in her would reach out to him, wanting just one touch of his perfect lips. But the Slayer, she’d take hold, push her down and tell her that it was wrong; that she was wrong.

Baby Spike was watching her with innocent eyes as she slipped out of her thoughts.

“I’m so confused,” she whispered. “But you can’t help me, can you, little guy?”

His young lips parted in a delighted smile and he stretched out a hand to grab her cheek. Not really thinking, she took his little hand and brushed her lips against his fingers. She settled down, getting ready to sleep with one hand resting comfortingly on his stomach.

“We’ll put everything back to the way it should be; I’ll make sure of it. Don’t you worry about a thing. Go to sleep little Spike,” she murmured. “I’ll look after you.”

To be continued...

“Hey, cute baby.”

Xander poked his head over the couch where little Spike lay happily clutching Buffy’s very own Mr. Gordo. He stretched out a hand to touch his blanket covered stomach when suddenly Spike let out a piercing wail and waved his arms in distress.

“Wasn’t me!” Xander jumped back, hands raised.

Buffy strode into the room, heading straight for the crying babe. “Xander Harris! What were you doing to him?” She scooped him up, running soothing strokes down his back and gently bouncing him. “No, don’t cry little Spike. It’s just silly Xander, he’s not going to hurt you.”

“Spike? As in Bleached Boy Wonder?” His eyebrows rose amazingly high on his forehead and he pointed a shaking finger at the sniffling baby. “That’s Spike? Spike’s a baby? I called Spike cute? Ngh!” He shuddered and stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Buffy, you do realise who it is you’re rock-a-bye baby-ing there? It’s Captain Peroxide! Or do you need reminding—since he’s all goo-goo ga-ga isn’t this an ideal time for, you know...“ He clutched a pretend stake in his fist and stabbed it against the air.

With a gasp, Buffy took a step away, a protective hand cupping the back of little Spike’s head. “Xander, what’s the matter with you? He’s just a baby!”

“Well, it’s not like he’s human or anything—is he? What were you going to do, feed him and bathe him and watch him grow into a big boy?”

She froze at this; an image of nursing a little baby boy, watching as he grew up, of showering him with love, flashing in her mind. However, Spike wasn’t human and as a baby vampire he wouldn’t grow. Her hold around his tiny form tightened unconsciously and she felt a part of her mourn the thought. Her attentions were turned when young Spike let out a watery whimper.

“What’s the matter little guy? Don’t cry. I’m right here, what do you need? Are you hungry?”

She brushed past Xander, hurrying to the kitchen where she made herself comfortable on a bar stool. Wrist at the ready, she touched it to his lips and had her suspicion confirmed when small fangs dropped down. His bite was so gentle; she nearly missed the sting when her skin was pierced.

“That’s how you’ve been feeding him!”

Buffy kept her gaze fixed on Spike as Xander hurtled into the kitchen. She could feel a storm of emotion brewing in her gut. There were so many, all eating away at her patience; all fuelling her determination in making sure Spike was protected.

“It’s none of your concern,” she replied quietly. “It’s easier
this way; with Slayer blood he only needs a couple of mouthfuls. It’s not hurting anyone.”

By this point Spike had already finished feeding and was licking at her puncture wounds.

“Buffy, have you gone completely out of your mind! Really look at what you’re doing! You’re acting as though you owe him something.” He began to raise his voice. “You don’t owe him a single thing; since when was it your responsibility to look after a vampire!”

“Since he started looking after me!”

She jumped from the stool, clutching young Spike to her chest and blinking back tears. When she’d felt this way in past weeks she’d turned to Spike for comfort, but she couldn’t run to him this time. He couldn’t help her, this time he needed her.

“Thing’s haven’t exactly been a breeze for me since you brought me back. Adjusting, it’s been... a challenge. But Spike, he’d help me on patrol and he asked me about my day...he brought me flowers and he—he told me that I looked pretty.”

She sniffled and looked down Spike. “He looked after me.” She spied little tears gathering in the corner of his eyes, his tiny bottom lip trembling and she hugged him closer. “Don’t cry little Spike, I’ve got you.”

When he let out a little gurgle and stuck his thumb into his mouth with wide eyes she couldn’t help but let her lips curve in a smile.

~

Dusk had begun to fall as Buffy and Willow waded their way through spell books looking for information on side-effects of the spell and reversals.

“According to this, Spike’s mind could be kind of...well, jumbled. Since he’s literally been reverted to baby form, he’s got the mind of child his age. But it’s possible that being a vampire has allowed him to recognise basic emotions, and in Spike’s particular case, I’d say people as well.”

Tenderly stroking Spike’s brow, Buffy waited patiently as the red-head scanned more pages and muttered to herself.

“His memories’ seem to have remained intact to the extent that he knows that he can trust you,” she continued. “A bit like a baby would have with his mother; that natural connection.”

A natural connection.

She liked the sound of that. And Spike was still inside that tiny body somewhere, she heaved a sigh of relief at the thought.

“Once we turn him back it might take a little time for him to fully get his memories back; a couple of days at the most. He’ll be confused; most of what he’ll remember will be emotions since he hasn’t been able to understand us.”

“Well that’s fine,” Buffy replied softly. “We’ll just keep looking after him until he’s back to normal.”

She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. The room was quiet for the following moments; there was just the sound of paper and baby Spike’s restful murmurs. It had the feel of a sanctuary, the content she experienced just watching and holding him in her arms. Even without words, Spike could bring her peace and comfort.

“Oh...” And with that one syllable her sanctuary was stole as Willow read aloud from the text, “The extent of return to pre-spell character and memory is founded on the individual. State of mind and age are of integral significance influencing the return of complete memory.”

“What—what is it saying? He might not remember? He might be different?”

“I guess it’s saying there’s a chance.” Shutting the book, Willow turned to her with a hopeful expression. “But the variables! Spike’s more than a century old! A-and sure, he might be a little crazy sometimes, but he’s smart and emotionally grounded and...stuff. And this connection that he has with you, it’s sure to be helpful too! I can have everything for the spell ready by tomorrow afternoon.”

Buffy didn’t know what to think, it was all happening so fast. Like this, as a baby, Spike remembered her and he trusted her. How could she risk it all be lost with another spell? But what were her choices? Tomorrow afternoon? She could lose him and them by tomorrow afternoon? She wanted to hold on to him, what did it all mean? It was too soon, all too fast.

“He’s freezing,” she blurted out. “I—I have to...there’s got to be a way I can warm him up.”

She looked around in a panic, searching the room for more blankets, more...anything. Her hold on him tightened and her words from the previous night rang in her ears.

“We’ll put everything back to the way it should be; I’ll make sure of it. I’ll look after you.”

“Buffy?” Dawn called out. “Bathroom’s yours!”

~

She’d never realised how small their bathroom sink was, which was why she was currently in her bikini and submerged in a tub of heavenly warm water with baby Spike cradled in her arms.

“This is much better, isn’t it, little guy?”
He smiled up at her, gurgling, then went back splashing one hand in the water and watching in fascination. Buffy reached over for a washcloth and bottle of bubble bath.

“Baths are no fun without bubbles,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Just a few bubbles won’t do any harm, don’t want to lose you in them, do we? After this, you’re going to be the warmest and cleanest baby vamp in the whole of Sunnydale.”

He let out a happy cry and wriggled his toes. She went about gently stroking his little body with the soapy cloth.
“You know, one day you’re gonna grow up to be the handsomest bleached blonde vampire; believe you me.”

He stuck one of his little hands in front of her and touched her nose, giggling when he brushed her lips with his fingertips. She giggled along with him.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little baby in the whole world? Yes! Yes, you are!” She lifted his little torso to her face and nuzzled against the soft skin, blowing a gentle raspberry at his bellybutton. She made a face when she realised exactly what she’d done and who she’d done it to. “You totally owe me for this, you know?”

“But I hope you remember this.” She settled into the tub, using her free hand to scoop bubbles and warm water over his little limbs. “Please don’t forget.”

Part of her didn’t understand exactly what had motivated her to put on her bikini. Naked and Spike weren’t exactly concepts which came together in the most natural of ways. But with him in her arms she felt as though she were cheating him—herself...them of something. It wasn’t right.

“You know I really do trust you, don’t you?”

Shifting his weight to one arm, she reached behind to loosen the fastening that held her bikini top together. It landed with a heavy splat as she discarded the soaked fabric onto the ground beside the tub. Topping up the bath with some more warm water, she drew her knees up to form a protective wall around him. He rested his cheek against her now bare breast and murmured in content, eyes falling shut. She stifled a gasp of surprise when he moved his head and his little lips brushed just shy of her nipple. She took one of his tiny hands in her own.

“Don’t forget me. Please, Spike, don’t forget me.”

She couldn’t help but think that this was the feeling she’d been missing since she’d returned from death. The only problem was, she didn’t know exactly what this feeling was. It was just...right.

To be continued...

The Summers’ kitchen was a clutter of crystals and sweet, spicy ingredients as final preparations for the spell were underway. In the middle of it all, Dawn stood mashing up a combination of poppy seeds and lemon rind.

“Willow, are you sure that you’re sure this time? I don’t think Buffy minds looking after Spike as a baby...” She added a handful of brown sugar and went back to pounding away with the mortar and pestle. “But a foetus Spike? May be... a problem, I think.”

The red-head, however, did not share Dawn’s light-heartedness.

“Nothing can go wrong this time, Dawnie. I was careless last time, it can’t happen again. I have to make this right.” Straightening out her papers, she walked around the kitchen island and passed her a container of blueberries.

“Here, can you juice these up and add them to that petal water? It’s supposed to improve the chances of keeping his memories intact.”

~

This was set to be a big day, and Buffy had lost count of how many hours it’d been since she last put little Spike down. She’d even put off her nightly patrol, constantly humming, rocking, cradling and stroking his tiny body; all the while, unsure of exactly who she was trying to put at ease.

“In just a little while, you’re gonna be a big boy again. Isn’t that exciting?” She laughed when he abandoned his thumb for a split second to let out an amused cry. “But as much as it’ll be nice to have big Spike back again, Buffy’s definitely going to miss you. And...even if you do have some trouble remembering, I’ll still look after you. I’ll always be here to look after you.” She touched her lips gently to his brow. “Promise.”

“Hey, Buffy. All the ingredients are set, Willow’s just coming.”

Dawn hurried into the living room and began to set up, arms laden with various containers and twigs. She lay bundles of herbs and twigs in a circle, placing a blanket in the middle and sprinkling the mixture of poppy seeds over it. She lit several fat and creamy white candles, placing them in strategic corners of the room.

“Spike has to be in the circle before we can do the next preparations for the spell.”

Buffy couldn’t help the tug of fear that pulled at her heart. Placing him in the circle meant putting him down, which meant she couldn’t protect him. Most importantly it meant letting him go, but full-grown Spike wouldn’t want this. He’d take the risk; so she would too. With one last tight hug, she placed his little form down on the blanket. Now out of her embrace, his tiny bottom lip stuck out in a pout and he waved his arms in her direction.

“It’s alright, baby Spike. I’m right here.” She let him grasp hold of her pinkie finger.
Spell book at the ready and determination etched on her features, Willow strode into the room. “I’m all set, let’s do this.”

~

A reasonable distance from the site of the spell, the two sisters watched on nervously as Willow dabbed infused water on Spike’s brow and shook bundles of flowers over him. The candle flames flickered gently as Willow chanted and the spell began to take effect.

“Sugar and spice, oh essence of Spike,
Take of the Water and of the Earth too,
Seek strength of heart and of form,
Of wisdom and of mind...Return!”

The glow from the candles began to spread around the room, joining to form a shimmering circle around the little baby. Wide eyed, young Spike stared open mouthed at the magical sparkles forming around him. The glow shone brighter and brighter, the girls squeezed their eyes shut and turned away. A whoosh swept through the living room followed by one last burst of white light and then...all was quiet.

Peeking one eye open, Buffy scanned the room. The candles were still lit, flickering away gracefully.

“Spike?”

Quickly she made her way over to him, kneeling beside him and taking his hand.

“He’s...he’s...” She looked over to her best friend. “He’s the same.”

Willow took his other hand. “He’s still a baby...I—I don’t understand. Buffy, that should have worked. He should be back to normal.”

Young Spike sent a happy and unknowing smile in Buffy’s direction and she hurriedly took him back in her arms. Much to her confusion, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Although things hadn’t gone quite according to plan, he still recognised her. She heaved a sigh; that had certainly been enough excitement for one day.

“Maybe you missed something,” she offered.

“No, no. We did it all right. Dawn and I, we checked everything over and over. Didn’t we Dawnie?”

The youngest Summers nodded her head of brown curls. Willow turned back to the spell book.

“We did it within the recommended time frame and the candle lights moved like it was supposed to.” She scanned the pages, shaking her head in disbelief. “Well, we shouldn’t try again until tomorrow. It’s best to give it some time so that any residual spell energy can dissipate and won’t affect any spell repeats. I’m so sorry, Buffy. I’ll find where it went wrong.”

“Yeah, I know you will.” Not looking away from young Spike Buffy nodded in a daze. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’m gonna put him to bed. We’ll figure it out together, don’t worry yourself, Will. Night, Dawnie.”

~

She could hear the birds chirping outside. It felt as though she should be getting up soon, but she was so comfortable. Devoting all of her time and energy to caring for little Spike was really starting to take its toll. She felt as though she’d earned at least another solid hour of sleep. Snuggling deeper under the blankets, she pulled a pillow towards her and hugged it close. A slight frown touched her brow as she felt a cool brush across her leg and the pillow seemed to shift in her embrace. Cracking an eye open, she pulled her arm away with a gasp and flew across to the other side of the bed.

Her blonde pillow turned around and gave her a sleepy smile, young blue eyes sparkling with energy for the new day.

“Good morning, Buffy,” it said in a polite and crisp English accent before snuggling close. “You’re so warm. I’m so comfy.”

“Spike?” She pulled away again, trying to get a good look at him.

“Yes, Buffy?” he murmured against her chest.

“Spike, it’s—it’s really you!” With two fingers under his chin, she gently tilted his head up towards hers and touched his ruffled, bright blond locks. “Willow’s spell worked.”

His young brows knotted in question. “What do you mean?”

Of course, he was probably confused and didn’t remember. Buffy felt herself smile as she realised that, for Spike, this was probably any normal morning. On the contrary, she wouldn’t have a bad word to say if she could awaken this way every day; his little body tucked beside hers and his breath flowing across her skin as he rested his head in her embrace. Perfection.

Lips pressed against his hair, she asked quietly, “Spike? How old are you?”

“Six,” he said proudly with a toothy lisp. “I’m a big boy!”

Laughing, she gave him a quick peck of a kiss to his crown. “Yeah, you really are.”

Concerned, Buffy watched on as he seemed to suddenly shift uncomfortably underneath the bed-sheets.

“Buffy?” he whispered.

“Yes, Spike?”

“I think—” He peeked under the covers and continued sheepishly, “I think I forgot to put on my pyjamas last night.”

To be continued...

“No, no!” Dawn squeaked in a high pitched voice. “Please don’t eat me Mr. Bear!”

Mr. Gordo in hand, she bounced the stuffed toy across the floor rug.

“Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum! I’m coming after you Mr. Gordo!” A large brown bear in both hands, young Spike had the soft toy chasing the former on its over-stuffed legs. His six-year-old features were lit up in sheer entertained delight. Yet in the bear’s mid-step, he paused and regarded the toy carefully. “I think it would make Buffy sad if Mr. Gordo got eaten, don’t you, Dawn?”

The corner of the older girl’s mouth lifted in a knowing smile. “Well, Mr. Gordo is Buffy’s favourite. So yeah, I think it would.”

Eyes wide, he placed the bear on the ground beside him. “No eating Mr. Gordo then.” He reached over to where Dawn had left the stuffed pig on the ground and clutched it to his chest. “I don’t want Buffy to be sad.”

~

“Hey there, Spike.” Buffy looked over at the young boy from her position at the kitchen sink. “What have you got there?”

Her brow furrowed in concern when he didn’t reply and looked to be deep in thought, his hands clutched together adorably behind his back. She dried her hands on a tea-towel and went to kneel in front of him.

“Everything alright, little guy?”

He looked at her for a few moments, a slight pout touching his lips. “Yes, I-I think so. I’m just a bit confused. You’re Buffy, I know you’re Buffy...but how—how do I know that?”

“Oh, oh well—“ She tried her hardest to keep the deer-in-headlights response at bay. “You just had a nasty fall the other day, honey.” She smiled warmly and stroked his cheek. “It’ll all come back to you soon.”

“Are you my mother?”

“What!” Green eyes flew wide open in a blend of shock and amusement. “Oh, no!”

Young Spike tilted his head in a style true to that of his older self and his hands fell to the side, revealing a bunch of daises clutched in one. “Sister?”

“I’m just a friend. A good friend. I take care of you.”

“Oh...” His lips spread in a happy smile before he ducked his head, twisting his torso from side to side. “I got these for you.” Shy eyes downcast he stuck out his hand and presented her the flowers. “I thought of you when I saw them. You’re pretty and your hair is shiny.”

His eyes shone with an innocence she never thought she’d see in those crystal blue orbs. She was certain that, were it possible, she would have blushed at the extent of her blush.

“Oh, thank you, Spike.” She planted a light peck of a kiss on his forehead and accepted the flowers with a grateful smile.

He let out a bashful giggle, gazing down at his feet as he murmured, “I’ve never had a girlfriend before.” He played with a loose thread in the oversized t-shirt he wore then looked up straight in her eyes. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Buffy couldn’t believe her eyes or her ears. In so many ways, young six-year-old Spike was exactly the same as normal, older Spike. He was the culmination of all those Victorian era mannerisms she’d only just caught a glimpse of before; those behaviours she knew that Spike worked so hard to keep hidden. She felt her heartbeat hasten in amazement as she realised that she was witnessing Spike, or more accurately, William, as he would have been as a human. He was polite, soft-spoken, completely charming and he...still cared about her. All of this in consideration, how could she turn down his offer.

“Of course I will, Spike.” She brushed his cheek and smiled adorningly. “It would be my privilege.”

She felt her heart lighten when his young features lit up with a shine bright enough to challenge the sun. Taking hold of her hand, he giggled, both nervous and delighted that he was holding the hand of a pretty girl.

~

As Buffy leant her head against the cushions watching Spike play contentedly beside her, she felt a strange burning sensation in her cheeks. But as she realised the source of her discomfort, the burning only grew greater. Her cheeks were aching...from smiling! She just couldn’t stop! Young Spike looked up at her from his place at the foot of the couch and sent her a toothy smile. She never thought that one of Willow’s magical mishaps could have brought such change to her life. This feeling, the sensation bubbling away inside her, it was refreshing, comforting, warming and...amazing.

“What happened to you here, Buffy?”

Spike pointed to the small bite mark on the inside of her wrist.

“Oh, it’s nothing—“ The grating sound of bone interrupted her and she found herself faced with the ridged features of a six-year-old vampire.

“Buffy,” he whispered. “What’s happened to my face?”

“Don’t worry Spike, everything’s fine.” She shifted in her seat, bending forwards to pick him up and place him across her lap. “How are you feeling? Hungry?”

“Yes, a little.”

Holding him to her chest, she murmured, “Close your eyes.” Then she touched her marked wrist to his lips. There was only a fleeting sting when his fangs sunk into her skin. She took deep breaths with each of his pulling mouthfuls, her fingers running comforting strokes through his soft, blonde curls.

“Are you okay?”

Returning to his human face, he gave her a shaky nod but noticed instantly when she winced and grabbed her wrist to ward off a stab of pain.

“Did I hurt you, Buffy?” He blinked wildly, a look of panic taking over, his voice straining and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! What’s wrong with me? I’m sorry, Buffy!”

“Shh, I’m fine, little guy.” She took his young form in her arms and rocked him comfortingly. “I’m just fine. You don’t have to say sorry, you never did anything wrong. Never. It’s what I’m here for, to look after you. Nothing’s wrong with you, don’t you ever think that about yourself. You’re special Spike, my special little guy.”

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” he whimpered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She held tightly onto him until she felt him begin to calm and watched as his eyelids drooped with sleep. And as she pulled a light blanket over their bodies, she inhaled in amazed surprise when he whispered, “I love you, Buffy.”

To be continued...

“I’m afraid there’s no telling about how old he’ll be next time...or when he’ll grow again for that matter. It’s too early to detect any distinct pattern. It could be completely random!” Willow chewed thoughtfully on her toast. “It could be based on certain emotions? Or maybe he’s growing as he gradually gets his memories back.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s it. I haven’t seen any signs of that; seems completely random.” Buffy leant out of the kitchen door, looking up the stairs. “Spike!” she called. “Breakfast little guy!”

Buffy felt the doorframe shudder along with a sounding thump followed by a series of crashes. “Spike? You alright up there?” A muffled groan and scuffling trickled down the staircase as she made to go up and check on him. She had not yet reached the third step when a significantly taller and somewhat lanky, ruffled haired blonde jogged straight past her and into the kitchen.

“I am no little guy,” he called over his shoulder, heading straight for the fridge.

No. A ‘little guy’ he most certainly was not. Buffy could only look after him wide-eyed, and it was not until she heard Willow’s surprised exclamation that she ordered her rooted feet to take her back to the kitchen.

A packet of pig’s blood in hand, Spike looked questioningly at each girl. The manner in which he asked, “What?” a far cry from the soft-spoken and polite young boy Buffy had grown accustomed.

“Nothing! It’s nothing.” Buffy quickly replied. “I like calling you ‘little guy’.” She took some tentative steps towards him and reached out to touch his hair, which she noticed was starting to look a little more on the chemically induced side. “You were the cutest little guy,” she murmured then frowned as she watched him pour out a mug of blood and set the microwave. “What are you doing?”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Getting breakfast? Pig’s blood sure tastes like shit, but you know I don’t...like asking you for—well, you know.” As if suddenly self-conscious, he turned away and busied himself by clearing up the messy plastics which had contained the blood.

Buffy didn’t know what to say, or think, for that matter. She had so many questions and she knew she wasn’t hiding her confusion well, so she wracked her brain for something to say which could cover any blunders she might have made in his eyes.

“Language, Spike,” she reprimanded quietly.

“Yeah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that. You’re usually a bit quicker, Buff. Anyway, I’m not six-years-old anymore.” He took a swig of the thick, dark liquid. “I’m twelve. You seem to keep forgetting.”

Twelve. Okay, well that answers at least one of her questions. But Spike had literally grown at least six years older right in front of her, and now he’d made it clear that there was some further form of history between them. It seemed as though the time in between six-year-old Spike and this twelve-year-old version had been filled with memories and events; that while she had just caught snippets, Spike was living a life. Another life! From her perspective, she was just skimming through various stages of his life like it was all some kind of virtual book.

“Buffy!”

She looked over at Willow as the red head telepathically shouted for her attention.

“The time has actually passed for him! Should we try to ask him to see if he can remember anything?”

“Yes, I know!” Buffy replied. “It’s as though this is life as he knows it! But no, I don’t think we should say anything. It might confuse him or it could be dangerous; wouldn’t it be better if we just let the memories resurface? If he’s twelve now, it’ll only be a few more transitions till he reaches the age when he was turned. It makes the most sense that that’s when he’d get his memories back.”

“But who knows how long that could take! I think what we should do—”

Buffy heaved a heavy sigh. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough? I know you were only trying to help him, but this was your spell!”

“I know, Buffy. And I’m so sorry—“

“It’s not me you need to apologise to, Will. It’s him.” She sent her friend a sad smile and looked over at Spike.
But to Buffy’s great alarm, the young vampire did not look at all well. His mug of blood lay discarded on its side on the kitchen counter, completely drained of any traces of the liquid. As for Spike, he was doubled over resting his hands on his knees. The two girls had been so caught up in their talk that they’d missed his rumbling growls and the repeated sound of grating bone as he shifted back and forth between his human fore and vampiric ridges.

“Spike! Are you alright?” Hurriedly, Buffy knelt before him and cupped his head in both hands, her thumbs comfortingly stroking his hair.

“I don’t know,” he groaned. “I’m just—God, Buffy. I’m so hungry.”

His head shot up and she found herself eye-to-eye with the yellow orbs of a starving vampire, his fangs bared and growling without restraint. She gasped but remained calm as she watched his eyes flicker from her own to her pulse point.

“Willow? Will you heat up another packet of blood for him?”

“Oh, sure.” Buffy kept her eyes on Spike as she listened to the sound of her friend at the fridge. “There’s no more! He must have had the last one. I’ll get some more. I’ll be quick.” And with that, Willow flew from the kitchen and out the back door.

“Buffy,” he gasped. “I can’t—I can’t control it.”

“No one’s asking you to, sweetheart.”

“Do you—do you remember that time when...” He dropped to his knees with a growl before struggling on. “Do you remember when you told me that I—that I was—special?”

“Of course, I do,” she whispered. How could she have forgotten? After all, it had only been yesterday; for her anyway.

His human face returned for just a spilt-second as he rasped, “Do you still think so? I’m such a monster.”

“Shh, never say that. You’re not. I meant it, Spike. There’s no one else like you.” Gently, she traced the ridges along his brow. “We can’t wait, this is killing you.” Pulling up her sleeve, she touched the delicate skin of her inner wrist to his lips. “I know you told me you don’t like to ask. You never need to ask, Spike. Drink.”

She didn’t miss it when his eyes flashed with sudden hunger. “No. I don’t—please, Buffy. I can, I can wait.”

Tired of his stubbornness, she brushed her wrist just slightly across one fang to graze the skin. At the same time, she pressed a kiss to his temple and murmured, “Drink.”

His body shuddered as yet another growl rumbled through him and he took hold of her forearm with both hands, sinking his fangs into her flesh as though she were his last meal. Buffy winced as he took the first deep pull of blood but soon relaxed, wrapping her arm around his neck when he moved to cradle her body in his arms. Even as he relieved his hunger, he still touched her with such tenderness, still protested at doing her harm. How could it be that he still cared so much? His following sips were far gentler, but Buffy knew she should have spoken up when he didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. She left it too late, and the spinning room soon blacked out entirely.

~

“Come to tap dance on the patient, Doc?”

Dawn looked in on him from her place perched on the coffee table. “That would depend on which patient you were talking about.”

“Right.” Sighing, Spike dropped his head back onto the couch. “So just with the guilt trip then.”

“That’s not what I came here for. “

“Then what did you come here for?”

“Just wanted to see you, I guess,” she shrugged. “And Buffy, she wanted to know how you were doing.”

He perked up. “She’s awake?”

The brunette sent him a tight smile. “Yeah, she’s been awake longer than you. But you know that you could have... killed her, right?”

“I know. I—I don’t know what I can say...I was just so hungry, I didn’t want to,” he explained, a hint of hysterics and desperation tinging his voice. “But it was too late, by the time I realised, she’d already passed out. Oh, Buffy. She must hate me. She said I wasn’t a monster, but how can she be right? I hurt her so bad.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Spike. She understands and she’s okay. You’re not a monster. Just, now you know, right? How careful you have to be,” Dawn said in her most comforting tone before offering, “And she wants to see you, if you think you’re feeling good enough to get upstairs.”

~

“Hey, little guy,” she whispered, managing a weak smile and beckoning him over to her side.

“Buffy, I—I ‘m so—“

“Shh, now. No apologies. There’s no need for that. You needed blood and I wanted to help you. I’m alright and you’re alright, it’s all that matters.” She reached up to touch his cheek. “Sit with me for a while?”

Spike crawled in beside her and let out a shaky sigh as she encouraged him to rest his head against her breast. In a few minutes Buffy found herself in a state of slumbered limbo, her bandaged wrist lying atop her stomach. And as she held onto the last vestiges of consciousness, she felt his hand gently cover the bandage and heard him whisper, “I’m sorry, Buffy.”

To be continued...

It had been a week since Buffy had experienced first-hand the physiological consequences of Spike’s growth spurts and the Summers’ household had taken all manner of precautions to make sure that, in the event of his next age-leap, that there was pigs blood aplenty. At present, however, young Spike and Dawn were happily experimenting with onion blossoms while the Scooby Gang...well, watched Buffy separate the laundry.

“Personally, I think you’ll like him,” Anya stated matter-of-factly, toying with a ball of sock. “He has nice muscles and eyes. I think the two of you’ll be very well suited for sex.”

“Ahn!” Xander gaped, wide-eyed at his fiancée.

“What? I’m simply giving Buffy a true evaluation of a potential partner. I thought you said it was good to show consideration for others. This is a very nice bra.” She displayed the red lace piece to Xander, “Don’t you think?”

“Well, it’s very kind of you, Anya.” Buffy snatched back her undergarment. “But I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “I suppose you’re too busy baby-sitting crying Spike to be thinking about orgasms.”

Saving himself any further embarrassment, Xander cut in. “Where is he anyway? Is he back to his annoying bleached self? Or is it too much to hope that you finally came to your senses and he’s lining the bottom of a rubbish bin.”

Pursing her lips, Buffy felt her temperature begin to rise, but tried desperately to keep her cool. Instead, she directed her bubbling frustration to the towel she was folding. “Spike!” She called out.

“Yeah, Buffy?” Came his reply from the kitchen.

“Come and help me a minute?”

Upon strolling casually into the room, he looked at Anya giving her a respectful nod of the head. “Hello, Anya. Hey, Whelp.” The latter he added casually without a passing glance.

“Hey!” Xander sent Buffy look as if asking her to control the child under her care.

“Spike,” Buffy warned as she simultaneously suppressed a smug grin. “Don’t be rude. Say sorry.”

The young vampire sighed exaggeratedly, dropping himself on the couch next to her. “Sorry.” Then muttered under his breath, “Whelp.”

Anya stepped in swiftly as Xander looked poised to start a fuss. “Like I was saying, I think you should meet him, Buffy. I could set it all up for you!”

Young Spike looked up at Buffy with wide eyes and touched her sleeve. “You—you’re going on a date?” He asked quietly.

“Oh! No,” She smiled warmly at him and brushed a blonde curl from his forehead. “Anya’s just got a friend she wants me to meet.”

Gosh, the way his eyes shone. It was the eyes which gave it away. His eyes told anyone observant enough to notice that he was no ordinary twelve year old child. His eyes were coloured with the worldly knowledge of a hundred and twenty-something year old vampire, with the emotion of man who’d known love and the heart of a woman. But that particular shine she’d seen before; every time she glanced at Spike from the corner of eye as she’d hugged Riley or talked to Ben. It was jealousy.

“A very physically attractive friend,” the ex-demon corrected. “How’s the Bronze? Tonight? Excellent!”

“Oh, maybe not tonight, Anya.” She tore her gaze away from the young boy. “I don’t really want to leave Spike by himself and—“

“Dawn!” Anya looked to the youngest Summers who now lent against the door-frame. “You can look after Spike, can’t you? We adults have more important things to do.”

“Of course.”

“Then it’s settled!” Anya cried out triumphantly. “You’re coming with us! Go change into something sexy!”

~

“Are you alright, Spike? You seem extra quiet tonight.”

“I’m fine,” he sighed, toying with a playing card. “I like spending time with you. I guess, I miss Buffy.”

Dawn giggled and reached over to ruffle his hair. “She’s only been gone half an hour! Don’t worry, she’ll be back soon. She wasn’t too keen on going out anyway. She’ll make sure they don’t stay out for long.”

“Unless...” Dawn’s eyes lit up with excitement as she was struck with an idea. “Grab your jacket, little guy. And just give me a minute.”

~

Dawn gave her outfit one last smooth down and tugged on her brunette curls as she flew down the stairs ten minutes later.

“Spike!” She called out. “Let’s go, blondie!”

She rounded the corner to find the twelve year old half hidden inside of her sister’s weapons chest.

“Hey, what you up to in there?”

He popped up with a proud smile. “Stakes!” He stuck one out at Dawn. “Buffy told me to always have a stake at night time.”

She smile understandingly and gratefully accepted the weapon. “I bet she did. But you should be careful with these you know. They can be dangerous, especially for little boys.” She lifted him out of the chest and took his hand. “Come on, let’s go find Buffy.”

~

There was just no other way to describe it. Buffy was bored. Richard was lovely and all, but he really did talk an awful lot. She wasn’t even sure exactly what he was saying now, something about...construction sites and insulation? She stifled a yawn and glanced around the Bronze at the dancing couples. Catching sight of a floor length leather coat, she couldn’t help but wonder if Spike danced. If he’d seen her sitting here, would he have given her one of those bashful smiles and asked her to join him for a dance? Would he have outstretched his hand and offered it to her? But the most important question, would she have rolled her eyes and slapped his hand away or would she have taken it? She could imagine it so clearly, sliding her fingers into his cool grip and feeling the strength which—

“Buffy!”

She jerked up straight at the sound of her name and the sight of her sister pushing her way through the dancing throng.

“Dawn! What are you doing here? Where’s—”

“Buffy!”

She felt her spirit soar as a flash of blonde rushed towards her and she found her arms suddenly wrapped tightly around Spike’s young body. “I missed you,” he murmured against her ear.

“I missed you too, little guy.”

Everything seemed to move around them as she continued to hold onto him. In her peripheral view, she saw Dawn take her seat beside Richard and introduce herself.

“He was feeling a little down without her.” Buffy heard her explain. “I totally had to sweet talk the security guy to let him in with me. He’s probably the first twelve-year-old ever to get in this place!”

When she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, she pulled away to find him watching the crowd with glassy eyes. “Buffy?” He asked, “Can we do that? Dance?”

Lips spreading in the most adoring of smiles, she took both his hands and bent down to match his eye level. “Are you asking me to dance with you, Spike?”

He seemed too embarrassed to meet her gaze. “Please, Buffy?”

She found her feet taking them over to join the crowd just as a slow, rich melody filled the room. Holding onto one hand, he rested his temple against her chest and wrapped his other arm around her waist while she cupped the back of his head and tenderly stroked his hair. Buffy had no idea how long they had swayed together; she’d just known that it’d been beautiful. For all of his emotional expression and understanding, adult Spike had never bared himself so openly to her. Sure she’d seen his devotion and love for her, and maybe it was because of his youth, but holding him against her, she saw the vulnerability at his very core. Suddenly the night seemed to fly past, and soon later she was carrying his sleeping form to bed and curling up beside him.

~

The very next morning, and upon her return from the bathroom Buffy re-entered her room as a foot stuck out from under the covers. It was quite a sizable foot, she noticed. Each second seemed to stretch and she held her breath as the sheets shifted and a well muscled arm emerged, followed by the hint of a chiselled torso. Spike? Could it really be? Fully grown Spike? Her little boy was gone? A low rumbling groan sounded and she watched as a hand ran through bright blonde platinum locks and delicate eyelids fluttered open.

Oh, but no. His eyes. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t her Spike.

This was...teenager Spike.

His voice was deep and husky.

“Mornin’, pet.”

To be continued...

Her little boy really was gone. All grown up.

“Growing,” she whispered to herself. “So fast.”

Aided by his vampiric hearing, Spike stretched out across her bed with a smirk, arms crossed behind his head.

“Got that right, luv. ‘cept... some parts still are.” He raised an eyebrow and flashed a glance down at his groin.

Buffy followed his line of sight and looked away with a gasp, flushing a bright tomato red.

“Oh God, Spike! Did you really have to bring that—” Her eyes widened and she bit her lip as she realised her mistake in choosing that particular phrasing. His smirk only grew and he curled his tongue behind his teeth, eyes darkening with arousal. Buffy tried a serious look.
“Stop that.”

“Would if I could, sweets. It’s got a mind of its own.” He titled his head nonchalantly to gaze at the tent in her sheets. “Plus, it is the morning.”

“Can you not behave for two seconds?”

He scratched a perfectly formed pectoral and shrugged.
“No.” He sat up suddenly, letting the sheet fall even further down his torso to reveal the trickle of hair that betrayed his natural hair colour. “What am I doin’ in your bed anyway? What’d we get up to in here last night? I’m starved.”

“Urgh!” She turned away in frustration as she cried out, “You are such a child sometimes!”

“Eighteen’s hardly a child, luv. As I’m sure you’ve noticed.” He leered openly at her.

“Great,” she muttered, heading back to the stairs. “Eighteen; like you needed anymore hormones to help you along.”

“Not gonna help me take care of my predicament, luv?” He called after her.

Blonde tresses flying, she spun back to her bedroom door. It seemed the cocky vampire she’d come to know—lov—loath was back with a vengeance. And a hormonal teenager, to boot! She pressed her lips together tightly, eyes narrowed as she tried to come to terms with the sudden change. Sure, a part of her had missed his constant innuendos just a little, but this was just—“I—you...oh!”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, Buff. Anyway, I thought you told me that you’d always take care of me.” He rubbed a hand down his chest, just coming to a rest about the waistband of his cotton pyjama pants.

“Downstairs,” she said firmly, jaw clenched and frown in place. “Five minutes!”

~

“What was going on up there, Buffy?” Willow inquired from her place at the stove. “Is it Spike? We heard you stomping around.”

Dawn looked up from her funny shaped pancakes. “Did he grow again? Is he alright?”

“He’s alright, alright! He’s a complete pervert! You have to fix him, Will! He’s—”

Not even mid-way through her rant, Spike sauntered casually through the kitchen door, bare-chested and pants slung low on his toned hips. Yawning, he ran a hand through his mussed and bleached locks, in so many ways the typical teenager.

Dawn’s eyes lit up, bright as the LA skyline, her jaw visibly dropping at the sight of him. “Oh...,” she gasped, “...wow.”

“Hey, Red. Mornin’, bit.”

On the way to the fridge, he stooped to brush a kiss on her cheek. Dawn giggled and touched her skin as she blushed a furious red.

“Hey, Spike.”

He dropped a packet of blood in the microwave and leant back against the counter, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants and drawing attention to places Buffy preferred her baby sister not have her attention drawn to.

“So luv, we sparrin’ today?”

Buffy’s brow furrowed in question. “Sparring? Like, fighting? We, as in you... and me?”

“Yeah, that would be it.”

Seemingly as confused as her sister, Dawn simply shrugged and tilted her head to the side to take in the glorious view of hunky teenage vampire before her.

“Um...” Buffy blinked as an image of a shirtless Spike tackled her and pinned her to the ground flashed behind her eyelids. “Okay,” she squeaked.

~

“Faster.”

Buffy threw out a lightning fast punch combination, topping it off with a graceful round-house kick and a swift block to Spike’s sternum. Still getting a grasp of his fighting skills, the young blonde ducked her kick only to lose his footing and fall back from her block.

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, rubbing at his chest and looking up at her from the ground with a pout.

“Don’t give me that look,” Buffy said a little smugly, offering him her hand. “I told you we were going faster.”

“One more time?” He offered, pulling himself back up and brushing off his pants.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Buffy watched him carefully for a moment, noticing just the faintest red line of scarring running diagonally across his chest. Had she done that? She didn’t remember scratching him. “Want me to go a bit softer on you?”

“No way!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, prepping himself for their next round. “Faster, just like before.”

“Okay, then.” Looking him up and down, Buffy circled him slowly trying to keep him on his guard. She felt his gaze, intense, on her with each step. She hesitated with her next step and caught the flicker in his attention. She swung out an arm which would have caught him in the solar plexus, but he dodged her move snatching her forearm as he spun her body around. The next second she found her arm twisted behind her, her back pressed against his chest and his other arm restraining her shoulders.

“Tell me, luv,” his voice rumbled against her ear. “Do you often let yourself get into this position out on patrol?”
Buffy froze stock still as she felt his lips just brush the skin at her neck. She tried her hardest to suppress the shudder that shot through her body. She couldn’t stop the stab of fear which slammed into her gut. Sure, on the odd occasion she had found herself in very similar situations but she’d been more than capable of fighting her way out. This was different though, it must have been some kind of magic, some kind of thrall. Except that...there was no such thing. Okay, so she’d fallen under Dracula’s spell, but certainly a nineteen-year old vampire wouldn’t have the wisdom to know how to harness such energies. So then why couldn’t she move?

“I’ve always wondered,” he murmured. “What would it feel like to bite...right here.” With blunt teeth he bit down sensually on the join of her neck and shoulder.
Eyelashes fluttering, Buffy felt her knees weaken and her body slump against his chest.

“God.” He dropped his hold around her and stepped back abruptly. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I—I don’t know what came over me.”

Buffy felt the room spin as she tried to keep herself from toppling backwards. She didn’t think anything of it when she took hold of his hand to steady herself.

“Um, it’s okay. Don’t worry.” She shook her head and took a deep breath to compose herself. “Came over with a bit of the blood-lustage, huh?”

The young vampire looked unconscionably adorable as he bit his lip and regarded her with careful eyes. He seemed genuinely shocked at his behaviour, but Buffy could see through it all. He was becoming to explore himself, as any normal teenager would. It was a kind of self-discovery and Spike was coming to grips with demon force within. She was shaken as she realised how important the following few days or weeks would be as Spike came to understand what he was capable of before he magically transitioned again. Now, more than ever, she needed to make sure that he knew what goodness he possessed and how much she—

She swallowed hard.

He needed to know how much she needed him.

“It’s okay, Spike,” she whispered. “Really. You’re curious, it’s only normal.”

“Why didn’t you stop me, Buffy? I could have hurt you.”
She shook her head and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I know you, Spike. You couldn’t have.”

He stepped out of her reach, ducking his head and crossing his arms defensively. “You’re too trusting, Buffy. Sometimes I feel like...there’s just this thirst inside, it’s just so strong and I—“ He glanced at her before hurrying to the basement stairs. “Thanks for today,” he said before rushing away.

~

The afternoon sun was dancing high in the sky when Buffy let herself indulge in a light nap on the living room couch. Willow was at her classes and Dawn was in school, Spike had hidden himself away upstairs. So she was alone. She thought of how this time, only a few days ago, she would have been playing a game with six-year-old Spike. The loss tugged at her heart. Memories of his innocent, adoring smiles flittered through her mind, the feel of his small body against hers as they danced at the Bronze.

On the cusp of slumber, she registered shuffling footsteps and felt the cushion beneath her chest dip. Spike. He brushed a chaste kiss against her temple, settling on the floor and resting his head beside hers.
She sighed in content and stretched her fingers to lightly stroke his hair. The past weeks had been wonderful.

But this was good too. Very good.

To be continued...

“Spike, sweetie.” Buffy caught up to the teen as he strolled into the kitchen. “Pretty please, could you... put a shirt on?”

“Can’t keep your eyes of my hot bod?”

“It’s got nothing to do with me!” Buffy explained, if not a little defensively. ”Dawn, on the other hand...”

Spike beamed, tucking his thumbs in his belt hoops and puffing his chest out proudly.

“What can I say, luv? Nibblet’s got exceptional taste.”

“Spike, please.” She heaved a sigh and pulled him further into the kitchen. “I’m being serious. Look, you know how I much I trust you with her, right? She’s really struggling in school right now and you know as well as I do, Dawn’s a little...enamoured with you. And you distracting her with your...” Buffy waved her hand vaguely in the direction of his defined abdomen and sharp hipbones. “...and your state of undress is the last thing she needs right now.”

Suddenly sincere, the teen tilted his head in thought and nodded. “Alright, Buff. You win.” Just as he turned away to fetch himself a shirt, Buffy saw his eyes sparkle with mischief. He dug his hands into his pockets and looked at her through his eyelashes. “Anyway,” he murmured. “You know how I like my women.” He took a sly step closer, his voice deepening, “Shorter.”

“H-hey! Shorter?!” She raised a hand to slap his arm, only to have him snatch her wrist and tug her closer. With his other hand he pushed a stray golden lock behind her ear.

“Blonder.” He looked down at the wrist he held, eyes glazed over with a lustful haze. “Stronger, older.”

She frowned at his last choice and pulled herself away. “Shirt, Spike! On! Now.”

~

She waited for him as he went down into the basement to retrieve a shirt from the pile of freshly laundered clothing. He pulled it on and popped the collar, looking at her as if to ask if she was satisfied. Pursing her lips, Buffy pointed to his exposed chest. “Buttons.”

He smirked in reply. “Not gonna help me?”

“Are you three years old?” She sighed in resign as his eyes continued to smoulder at her. “Fine.” Grabbing a handful of shirt in each hand she tugged him, none too gently towards her.

“Whoa! Easy on the goods there, luv.”

Exasperated, Buffy shook her head. “Honestly, Spike.”

“Sorry, Buffy,” he chuckled. “You know I don’t mean to brass you off. I just—I remember how you used to help me get dressed when I was little.”

Suddenly hopeful, she looked up from the button her frustrated fingers were battling with. “You do?”

He smiled. “Mm-hmm.”

He really was handsome.

“What –what do you remember?” She returned her attentions to his shirt, her touch much softer.

“Nothing specific,” he shrugged. “I just remember watching you. I liked that. You were always smiling and...gentle. And when you finished, you’d kiss my forehead. I remember that.”

She smoothed down the lapels of his shirt and brushed off his shoulders, biting her lip as she unsuccessfully tried to hide a bashful smile. “Well, you don’t need me anymore, do you? Being all grown up.”

He took both her hands, flashing her a flirtatious glance. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, luv. I’ll always—”

“I feel like getting groovy tonight!” Dawn bustled loudly into the kitchen and sashayed up to the blonde duo. “Spike! Wanna come with me to the Bronze?”

Buffy had since snatched her hands back from him and turned away to busy herself at the kitchen counter, trying to banish her strawberry blush. This just couldn’t keep happening! One minute she’d be scolding him for his inappropriateness, being the proper, over-bearing parent she’d always feared she’d become (if she was fortunate enough to ever be a parent) and the next! Her knees would turn buttery; she’d be grinning like an idiot and giggling like a school-girl! This just wouldn’t do.

But then he did that thing with his eyes, he really did look awfully handsome.

“Oh, you know I’m not much of a dancer, little bit.”

She cleared her throat, turning to her sister. “Dawn, don’t you have work to do? Besides, we just there the other night, remember?”

“I’ve done it all!”

Buffy watched her sibling carefully as she twirled a long, brown curl around her finger and smiled coyly at the teenage vamp. She was flirting with him!

“And I wasn’t asking you...old lady. I was asking Spike. And you don’t have to dance; we could just...get a drink...or three.”

A deep chuckle rumbled through Spike’s chest and he bit his lip adorably. “Sweet bit, you can’t even drink. You’re not legal.”

And he was calling her pet names! Well, she already knew that...but they were really cute ones! He never called her ‘sweet bit’!

“Fine.” Dawn heaved a sigh and crossed her arms, that famous Summers’ pout in full force. “I’ll just go by myself. And find guys who do want to dance with me.”

Suddenly Spike seemed to grow taller, his expression darkening. “You bloody well, will not.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Mister...’Bloody well, will not’!” She poked her tongue out at him to add effect.

He deflated. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll go with you.”

“Yay!” Buffy jumped slightly at her sister’s shriek. “You’re the best, Spike!”

She didn’t recognise the pang of emotion which stabbed at her gut as she watched Dawn plant a loud kiss on one of his cheekbones and saw him hug her waist so tightly that her body lifted off the ground. Spike had never held her like that; his touches had always been lighter, teasing almost. Gentle. Guarded?

No.

Sensual.

That was the word.

~

So here they were again. Here she was again. But this time, there wasn’t a young man pining for her attention sitting beside her. This time she sat off to the side watching as her little sister bounced to the beat with a teenage vampire moving awkwardly beside her, warily eyeing the other gyrating occupants of the dance floor. He seemed particularly interested in one particular couple who’d pressed their pelvises so close together, it was a wonder they could move at all. Spike watched on with a smirk as he saw a hand rove down the girl’s bare back to rest on her bottom. When he searched for her out at the tables, she could only duck her head to hide her blush when he sent a blatant leer in her direction.

There was a sudden squeal and Buffy shot her head up to see Spike holding her sister in a ballroom style backwards dip, one hand supporting her lower back and Dawn’s hair a tumbling cascade of brunette waves. Oh God. He was looking at her again and his eyes were all smoky and...sexy.

She grabbed for her drink and took a swig far too big for her alcohol sensitive tastebuds to handle.

Gah.

~

“Come on, luv. Dance with me?” Buffy looked up in surprise to see Spike offering her his hand. “Just like last time.”

“Where—where’s Dawn?”

“Little girl’s room.” He tilted his head, indicating to the dance floor. “Dance with me, Buffy?”

At first she was too stunned, too nervous. She kept her body rigid, her hands resting on his shoulders. In his own true style, Spike quickly noticed her hesitation and took her breath away with that handsome smile. He touched one of her elbows, urging her hands around his neck. She smiled back bashfully, stepping a bit closer as his touch on her shoulder-blades firmed. Gradually she let the beat take over; she let her eyes fall shut and rested her head on his shoulder. She thought she’d imagined it when he murmured her name against her temple.

“Buffy.”

She felt the hand which rested on her scapula shift downwards, another hand she felt touch her chin coaxing her head upwards. She felt his breath across her cheek and her eyelashes fluttered. As she regained her focus, she almost gasped at the intense blue of his eyes. He moved closer and closer, his lips were almost on hers.

He wanted her; really wanted her. And it took her breath away.

Almost.

“Spike,” she whispered. “We—we shouldn’t.”

“Why not, luv?”

That was an extremely good question. But she had reasons. Lots of reasons.

...what were they again?

“I’m—I’m a lot older than you.”

“Not a lot, just a bit. Doesn’t matter. I have...” He tongue snuck out to wet his lips, he touched his forehead to hers. “...I have feelings for you, Buffy. Always have. And I know you have feelings for me too.”

She shook her head uncertainly. “N-no.”

“Oh? Then why are you letting me do this?”

The hand which touched her cheek ventured down to her neck, two finger tips just brushing her skin, moving down her collarbone and dangerously close to the dip of her low cut singlet top. Her eyelashes fluttered in desire. His touch ignited a trail of blazing fire right down to her toes.

“Spike, please. Don’t.”

Their lips brushed so lightly. It was barely even a touch. She was so light-headed it was almost painful.

“Please, Buffy. Let me have...one...”

She saw his jaw clench in restraint.

“...one?”

“Just one,” he breathed. “Please, Buffy. Let me...let me kiss you. Say yes, please.”

He was asking her permission? God. Could this have gotten any harder?

“I...”

“Buffy, sweetheart. Kiss me.”

Say no. Don’t say yes. Say no.

Don’t. No.

He let out the most heartbreaking sound she’d ever heard.

Why had he made that sound?

His bottom lip had been captured between hers.

Oh.

To be continued...

Oh.

She let out a helpless whimper when he tentatively ran his tongue across hers and parted her lips just a little more.

This was a really bad idea. She should...really...stop...
But he was so gentle and he made the most heavenly sounds. Maybe she could just...

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead so tenderly; she felt her body melt into his arms just a little bit more.

This wasn’t right. She knew it. This wasn’t Spike, not really. Sure, he looked like him, talked like him. And from what she remembered from their magical engagement, he sure tasted like him too. He felt the same way under her touch has he had then. He even smelt the same. Everything was exactly the same and....what was she saying? Oh yeah, he wasn’t really Spike.

She heard him release a contented sigh before pulling out of the kiss and touching his forehead to hers.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She raised a hand to his cheek, searching for the right words to say—

“Buffy!” Dawn was hurrying towards them, the panic in her eyes blinding her from suspecting what they’d been doing. “There’s a girl in the bathroom, she...she needs your help.”

Instantly flashing out of their romantic haze, Buffy and Spike rushed to the restroom, stakes held discreetly, but at the ready.

~

Just hidden behind the door, they found a young fledging of a vamp, fangs embedded deep in the throat of a young girl who was very quickly losing consciousness.
Buffy raised her stake. “Having dinner in the toilets on your own? What’s the matter? Don’t you have any friends?”

The vamp looked up at them with a questioning grunt, blood still dripping from his fangs. The girl moaned weakly.

“Hey, Spike! It’s Spike, isn’t it?” He looked over at the peroxide blonde with something akin to adoration. “You’re really gangin’ up with the Slayer? Did you wanna bite?”
He offered the girl’s torn and bloodied jugular to him.
The teenage vampire let out a deep growl and Buffy shot out a hand to grip his bicep. “Spike.”

“Hey, no worries, man.” The fledging raised his hands in defence. “I heard she had you whipped.”

Vampiric ridges on full display, Spike lunged at the fledging and threw him towards Buffy’s raised stake where he finally exploded in a cloud of dust. He caught the girl before she could fall. A trickle of blood pulsed from her gaping wound and Buffy shivered as a hungry growl rumbled through his chest and he licked his fangs.
Buffy approached them carefully. “Spike? Bring her to me.”

In response, he only tugged the girl roughly towards him.
“Please,” she rasped. “Please don’t.”

“Spike. No.”

His lips curled back to bare his fangs and he let out an animalistic growl. The girl began to sob, causing only more blood to escape her wound. Another growl and he plunged his fangs into her jugular, taking a hearty mouthful with one hand splayed across her stomach.

“Spike!” Fearful that she might hurt the girl even more, Buffy threw herself at him in a way that would only force him to withdraw his fangs. The girl collapsed in an unconscious head whilst she pinned Spike’s vicious form to the tiled floor.

She shouted for her sister who stood guard outside the bathroom. “Dawn! She’s hurt. Get someone to look after her.”

Pulling Spike to his feet, she dragged him as discreetly as possible out of the Bronze and into the alleyway. She hid them behind the safety of a rubbish tip, kneeling beside the vampire’s crouched and snarling form.

“Spike? Look at me, you recognise me, don’t you?”

He tilted his head, eyes glowering and blood still smeared across his lips and chin. Buffy brushed her fingertips along his jaw.

“I never explained to you, did I?” She whispered. “What you are. It’s just the demon, Spike, just the demon that made you do it. But it doesn’t have to control you. You aren’t the demon. The demon’s inside, but you’ve got the heart...the heart of a man. And that’s what counts the most.” She stroked his temple. “Do you understand me? Will you come back to me, Spike?”

His eyes gentled. He turned his head, sniffing her skin then nuzzling against her palm.

“Yes, it’s me, Buffy. Remember?”

His eyes flashed blue and his ridges disappeared for just a second. “Buffy?”

“It’s me. I’m here.”

He traced the palm of her hand with careful fingers and his demon front melted away.

“What did I—“ His brow furrowed and he ran his tongue across a lingering droplet of blood. “Buffy, what have I done? Did I— is she...?”

“No, Spike. She’s okay.”

“But I...bit...her. I drank her blo—”

If it was possible, Buffy would have sworn he turned a paler shade of pale. He pulled his knees up to his chest, his body started to tremble.

“It’s alright, Spike. I’ll help you get through this. It’s you and it’s me, and we’ll get through this together.” She ran comforting strokes down the denim of his pants, reaching to push his peroxide curls away from his forehead. “We won’t let it happen again, okay? Tell me how I can help you.”

“Please, Buffy. I don’t...don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m just... hungry, Buffy. So hungry...all the time.”

“Alright,” she whispered. “We’ll get you some blood. You won’t hurt anyone, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. Come on, let’s get you home.”

~

“Buffy, I know he’s a growing teenager and all, but this is ridiculous! We’ve only got two more packets of blood left! He just drank ten in one go!” Willow’s eyes were wide with a combination of fear and anxiety.

“You didn’t see him there, Will,” Buffy replied quietly. “We really haven’t been feeding him enough. Being a teenager makes him hungry, he can’t control that. It’s the demon, the demon is never sated. Spike’s had decades to learn how to control the hunger, but now...he’s got to learn all over again. Except now, we don’t have decades; just a couple of days at the most. If we don’t do this right, by the time Spike transitions again, we could well have another William the Bloody on our hands.”

She approached him slowly, watching as he dropped another empty bag in the sink.

“How are you feeling?”

He turned to her, his head ducked uncertainly. “Better. Thank you. I’m sorry I was...how I was.”

Buffy took both his hands in hers.

“It’s not your fault, Spike. But it’s important that you know. The demon that’s in here,” She pressed her palm to his chest. “It’s strong, yes. But what matters is what’s here and here.” She touched his temple and his heart. “And the power there is stronger than any demon. I know it’s hard, but never forget that the demon doesn’t control you. You’re strong and brave, and I’ve never known anything to defeat you. You can hold it at bay, and that is what makes you so much more of a man.”

She swallowed hard as she watched him blink rapidly to hide his tears.

Her voice suddenly sounded so small. “Okay?”

He gave her a shaky nod and stepped towards her, eyes lowered bashfully. He took one hand from hers and touched her waist. He shuffled a little closer, flickering his gaze through his eyelashes. She gave him a soft smile and stood up on her toes to pull him into an intimate hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed at the comforting feel of his hands on her back.

“Oh, Spike,” she murmured. “How you’ve grown. But you’re still my little boy, aren’t you?”

She felt his breath against her skin.

“Yes. Can I...can I be yours forever, Buffy?”

To be continued...

“So, Buff, a little birdie told me an interesting story about the Bronze last night.”

Reluctantly, Buffy looked up from the cross-bow she was cleaning.

“What, Xander?” She sighed. “What did a little birdie tell you? But before you answer, just please, just think carefully about what you say.”

He straightened suddenly, eying the cross bow.

“He’s dangerous, Buffy,” he whispered. “I just want you to be sure that you know what you’re doing.”

Buffy’s tone softened. “I’m sure. He’s changed, Xander. He was different, even before Willow’s spell. He deserves some help and understanding, especially now. This Spike hasn’t done anything wrong, he’s innocent. This is the only life he knows.”

The two quickly quietened when there was a shuffling at the doorway.

“Buffy, luv?”

“Hey, Spike—” Head tilted, she regarded him carefully. He leant against the doorframe, his eyes expressing nothing but tension and exhaustion. “Are you feeling alright?

“To tell you the truth, pet. My head’s achin’ something bad.”

“You’ve got a headache? I didn’t think vampires got headaches.”

“Well, the throbbin’ tells me otherwise.” His brow furrowed in focus and he rubbed the back of his crown. “It’s just right... here.”

“Maybe it’s all that human blood you had last night,” Xander offered, if not a little abruptly. “Shock to the system.”

“Xander, please,” Buffy whispered. “We don’t need this.”

“It’s okay, Buffy. You don’t have to...” Spike ran a hand through his unruly curls and sent a soft smile her way. “It’s okay, pet.” He turned to leave.

“What’s this?” Xander stood, his hands in his pockets and that know-it-all grin edging its way into his lips. “Big Bad backin’ down?”

The teen didn’t turn to face him, instead just freezing mid-step to warn, “Leave off, mate.”

The brunette snickered.

“Xander—“

Buffy gasped in surprise when Spike rushed at Xander, grabbing his lapels and pinning him against the wall by the sheer strength of his grip.

“Spike!” she exclaimed. “Let him go.”

“I’ve had my fair share of you talkin’ me down all these years, Harris,” he growled in close. “Don’t ‘specially care, but just so you know...the only thing keepin’ me from snappin’ your neck is that your Buffy’s friend, she hurts when her friends hurt. And I don’t hurt Buffy.”

“Spike.”

She put a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to loosen his grip. At this he instantly let go and turned to her sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he murmured before rushing from the kitchen.

Wide eyed, Xander watched the vampires retreating back as he rubbed his chest. “You see,” he gasped. “Did you see that? And you’re so convinced that he’s fine. The guy’s unstable, Buffy. Why can’t you see it?”

“Of course he’s unstable!” Buffy exclaimed. “You have no idea what he’s going through right now. He’s got to come to grips with what he is, controlling the demon, just being a teenager and God knows what else! This is exactly why he needs me. Why can’t you see that?” She heaved a sigh and looked around. “I think you should go, Xander. I’ll give you a call when everything’s back to...you know, normal.”

Not knowing what else to say, she sent him a sorry smile then hurried off to find her vampire.

~

She didn’t have to go very far. He sat on the stairs, his head of bleached curls cradled in his hands. She took care to tread the steps quietly, sitting herself beside him.

“I could get you some blood,” she whispered. “Maybe that’ll make you feel a bit better?”

Buffy giggled when he seemed to perk up and smiled at her hopefully. She put a comforting hand on his upper arm and leant in to kiss his temple. “Blood it is then.”

Just a few minutes later and Buffy was presenting Spike with a heated mug of blood. The teen accepted it with a grateful smile before downing it with something that could only be described as ravenous.

“Any better?” She asked gently.

“A little,” he rasped. “Thanks, luv.”

“When did this all start? The headaches, I mean.”

He rubbed his temple and tilted his head in thought. “I suppose...it started last night, after...after the Bronze. Maybe Xander was right after all. ”

Could he? Could it really be all that simple? But it just didn’t make any sense. Though Buffy assumed that Spike hadn’t consumed any human blood since he was twelve, he was still a vampire, so his ailment couldn’t be a reaction to the sudden presence of human blood in his system. No, there was definitely something else at work here. Maybe it was a sign that he would soon be magically transitioning again. Whatever it was, she was a little hesitant to turn to Willow for aid. In spite of whatever good-hearted intentions she might have, there was no doubt in her mind that her friend would want to turn a mystical means of helping him; and that was really the last thing they needed right now. Beside her, the teen sighed tiredly and rested his head against the stair banister.

She touched his elbow and stood up. She might not be able to help him at this moment, but the least she could do was look after him.

“Come on, I’m putting you to bed.”

Despite his well-being, Spike turned to her, eyebrow raised and smirking.

“Oh, luv, playin’ nurse-maid? How scandalous. What would the kiddies say?”

She smiled sweetly at him and spoke slowly, “That... Spike can spend the rest of the night and tomorrow quarantined in my room alone if he doesn’t get his teenaged behind in bed within the next five seconds?”

“Oh, right.” He straightened quickly and hurried to the top of the stairs. “Bed.” He pointed in the direction of her room. “I’m going.”

~

As the night wore on, Buffy eventually fell asleep in the comfy chair beside her bed. As she dozed, the sound of Spike’s pained whimpers occasionally reached her ears. She’d reach over and stroke his arm or lean forwards to kiss his brow, he’d sigh and quieten. But every time, the pain seemed to have worsened. Tossing and turning, he was now very obviously awake; the pain keeping him from sleep.

“Spike? Is everything... okay?”

“Burns,” he rasped.

“What?”

“Head...urggh!” His hands flew up to cup his nose. She spied a trickle of blood seeping between his fingers.

“Spike! Oh, my God!” She grabbed a handful of tissues from her nightstand and pressed them to his bleeding nose. Her voice sounded shrill and panicked to her own ears. “I don’t understand. Why is this happening?”

“Girl,” he whispered.

“What?”

“The girl I bit. Punishment.”

In an effort to muffle the pain, his demonic ridges surged to the fore. He let out a growl and stretched his fangs. He roared in pain, clutching his temple. Buffy gasped. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Suddenly she understood. All this time and the thought had never occurred to any of them. They’d never considered the possibilities or consequences; the consequences for them or for Spike. How could they have forgotten? How could she have been careless enough to forget?

“Chip,” she breathed. “The chip. Oh, Spike. Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it better. It’s not punishment, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I wish I could be stronger for you.”

“No,” she gasped. “Don’t say that. You’re the strongest, Spike. You’re incredible. I’ll look after you. I...I lo—I won’t leave you.”

He sent her a pained and tired smile. “Love you, Buffy.”

~

She watched over him the whole night, murmuring comforting words and holding him in her arms. It horrified her, the thought of that monstrous piece of metal slowly taking form inside his head. She couldn’t begin to imagine how it could feel. Unable to contemplate the pain he must have been experiencing for another second, she pulled desperately at any other memory. She remembered the feel of his lips on her with such clarity it scared her. It was the gentlest kiss she’d ever experienced and he was the most passionate man she’d ever met. She’d almost said it before, that she loved him. She couldn’t bring herself to say it, but she really did. Demon aside, she’d seen the man at his core over the past weeks.

And he was beautiful.

He twitched and let out a pained grunt beside her. He didn’t deserve this, not by a long shot. She could only hope that his next transition would be a bit less complicated for him. She couldn’t admit it, but she wasn’t keen on the morning when she would wake to find him back to normal. She’d miss this Spike, the Spike who’d grown up as her little boy. It had been wonderful. But the next transition would bring her Spike back to her; the Spike who loved her as a woman and as a Slayer; the Spike who fought for her and adored her and desired her. And that would be wonderful too.

She could just feel it in her bones. She’d have him back soon and his pain would be over. Yes, with the next change, she’d have him back.

...wouldn’t she?

To be continued...

Spike was dreaming. It was the strangest kind of dream. He was in Restfield cemetery, walking alongside Buffy on one of her patrols as he’d done numerous times before. Her expression was stony and focused, her body language closed and cold. Something was different and not right at all. Her pace quickened, he tried to call after her.

“Buffy? Buffy!”

He heard his own voice shout out in his head, but his vocal cords didn’t seem to follow suit. She never turned back to look at him and somehow he knew that she never spoke, but her voice seemed to ring out and echo around him.

“You don't know what you mean! You don't know what feelings are! You’re like a serial killer in prison!”

Suddenly they were winding their way through the maze of Sunnydale’s back alleys, Spike hurrying, desperate to keep with up with her. Why wouldn’t she look at him? His feet stumbled against the rough concrete and he reached out to the brick-walls to steady himself. He could feel the dirt and grit beneath his finger tips. Again he tried to call out.

“Buffy!”

Her answer was sly but curt and he felt her distaste stab at his gut. “The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious.”

He felt a tearful lump rise in his throat and he choked back a sob, his eyes stinging. The Buffy he knew would never say such hurtful things. Never. She was generous and giving, kind-hearted, patient and understanding. This was a nightmare, it couldn’t be real. Still he chased after her, unshed tears blurred his vision and his head throbbed as if electrical currents had been ignited within his skull.

“I love you, Buffy!” He heard himself cry. “Buffy, please!”

In a jarring second, everything seemed to freeze and all he could see was Buffy. She was pure beauty and it took his breath away. But his heart crumbled when she looked at him with pure disdain and her tone was laced with venom.

“It wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you.” He felt her hands on his chest, shoving him to the ground. “You’re beneath me.”

Just as the first tear spilt down his cheek, there was an explosion of light. Spike clutched his head as he was overcome by a stab of blinding white pain. He screamed and there was noise; just a droning roar of noise. His entire body felt engulfed by the pain, every limb and muscle was tense and burning.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was deathly quiet. He peeked one eye open and it was dark. There was no more pain, only warmth, softness and the faint scent of vanilla.

Buffy.

~

Buffy was dreaming. It was the best kind of dream. She was all warm and snug, her legs tangled up with Spike’s. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest. His arms wrapped around her.

“Mm,” she sighed. “Spike.”

She let her eyes open peacefully, not fully registering what she saw before her but sighing again at the vision of cerulean blue eyes. She felt the rumbling growl move up his chest before she heard it.

“Mm, God, Buffy. I love waking up with you. Every morning, the way you look at me,” he mused. “It’s like you’re seeing me for the first time in years. No one else looks at me the way you do. You’re so beautiful, luv.”

Spike. It was—it was Spike! This was no dream. Her early-morning mind was muddled, but it screamed at her that it was Spike. Only that it wasn’t him. He had his face and his sentiments, but by all accounts, this was still the same boy that she’d— this was the same boy, all grown up.

With a touch to her chin, he titled her head up and placed a tender kiss on her parted lips. At the feel of his lips pressed against hers, Buffy was stunned. The kiss was soft and lingering. And unexpected as the situation was, Buffy could only surrender. She raised a hand to run her fingers through his bleached locks, parting her lips a bit more to allow him entrance and letting out a helpless whimper as he did so. Their desire quickly surged and she roved her hands down the sinewy muscles of his arms and back as he pulled her leg over his hip.

“I’m sorry, kitten.” He pulled away from the kiss, choosing to rest his forehead gently against hers.

Flushed and breathless, she looked up at him in confusion. “Wha...um, what?”

He chuckled and smiled at her softly. “I meant it, when I said I wouldn’t push you into anything.”

“Push?” She questioned, mind still hazy from his breath-taking kiss. “...there’s pushing?”

“Most usually. Yeah, pet. There’s lots of pushing.” He smirked and smouldered at her before becoming sincere. “But I meant that thing we talked about the other day. How I said I wouldn’t rush you into...” He looked suddenly bashful and seemed to fumble around for words. “You know...dancing...with me...”

“Dancing?”

“The... er...horizontal tango?”

“Oh!” She giggled and melted a little inside. “That tango.”

“Mm-hmm, after all it does take two, doesn’t it, luv?”

She didn’t know what came over her as she chewed on her bottom lip and looked at him through her eyelashes. “Well, not necessarily,” she whispered. “I can think of some steps which can be performed...solo, as it were.”

Buffy watched the tendons in his cheeks flex as he tried to suppress a large grin. She squealed happily when he wrapped both arms tightly around her waist and rolled her onto her back, his body pressed flush against hers. “There’s my little minx.” He planted a noisy kiss on her brow before heaving his body off hers and out of bed.

“Where are you going?” She hoisted herself up onto her elbows to watch him.

“Breakfast, luv.” He ruffled his hair, looking around for his shirt before giving up. “Can’t explain it, I’m absolutely starved.”

Of course, the transitions always seemed to make him ravenous the next morning.

“You don’t have to go downstairs. You could always...you know...” She gestured to her collarbone.

Gently, he sat himself down beside her and cupped her head of dishevelled blonde locks. “No, sweetheart. I can’t. I’m just not strong enough. And not after what happened last time.”

“Remind me again?”

“You really don’t remember?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and shook her head.

“It’s simple really; I bit you too hard. I drank too much, too fast. You were passed out in my arms, but it was—it was just so hard to stop. I was so hungry, Buffy. I was so young. But the worst part was; you didn’t try to stop me. You just let me drink. You trusted me. You held my hand and let me drink. I could have killed you, sweetheart.”

“I think you would stop now,” she offered quietly. “I liked feeding you.” She reached out to touch his cheekbone. “You were my little guy.”

Good Lord, she was confused. One day she was feeding a little crying vampire babe and the next she was having a morning snog-fest with him. What in the hell was going on? This wasn’t right, she knew it. The relationship she had with this Spike was predominantly maternal. In many ways she was no better than a cradle snatcher. But right under it all, these were no normal circumstances. From the very beginning of this crazy saga, Spike’s attachment to her had been based in the feelings he’d already possessed.

But at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel as though she’d been robbed. She’d woken up to a boyfriend, a partner... a lover, but she’d missed out on their story. She’d missed out on the story which had brought them together. And wasn’t that the most important and exciting part of any relationship? How had they come to be a couple? How had their relationship blossomed in the intervening years? Had they dated? Gone to movies, shared giant milkshakes and taken romantic strolls out by the...cemeteries? Had she, one day, taken his hand and shared her hopes and fears with him? Had he told her that he couldn’t imagine life without her there beside him every step of the way? Had she done the same?

A tender kiss to her brow quietened her thoughts for just a moment.

“I’ll always be your guy, Buffy,” he murmured. “I’ll always be yours.”

“Do you think you’ll ever...you know, bite me...again?” She asked timidly, but also to her own surprise. “I like knowing that I can feed you, that there’s something inside me that can save you.”

His eyes widened in adoration. “Oh, Buffy. You take such good care of me. Don’t you know? You save me every day.”

She cast her eyes downward. She could pretend, just for a moment, couldn’t she?

“But...maybe one day? Will you?”

“This is really important to you, isn’t it?”He tilted his head, regarding her carefully as he did in his own special, handsome way. She didn’t move a muscle. “Maybe,” he whispered. “One day.” He gave her that heart-stopping half-smile and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Can I get you anything? Breakfast in bed for my girl?”

“Maybe just a cup of tea?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He planted a kiss on her forehead and tucked the sheets around her.

The moment Buffy heard his footfalls down the stairs she exhaled loudly and rolled onto her back, eyes wide and taking gasping breaths. What had she done? Was it real? It most certainly felt real. She was in a relationship. They were in a relationship; her and Spike. Spike! She had been pretending though, hadn’t she? Pretending for Spike so as not to confuse him. It had felt so real and so...right. Her chest felt as though it would explode. She loved him. She, Buffy Summers, loved Spike with all of her heart. But which one? She thought of the Spike downstairs, the Spike who’d be bringing her a cup of tea in five minutes. She remembered the adoration in his gaze, but as she remembered the taste of his kiss, her heart contracted with guilt.

She wasn’t being fair to either of them. She felt a prickling in the corners of her eyes and her vision glazed over. Tears.

She thought of pre-spell Spike, the amazement, passion and love in his eyes as he’d watched her descend the stairs that night she’d been resurrected for the second time. She remembered the picture of his bloodied and bruised skin as she’d stooped to kiss him after he’d submitted himself to Glory’s torture in order to save her sister. William the Bloody, Spike the soulless vampire. Did she love him too? The guilt, the feeling of betrayal, it was stifling.

There was no doubt that Spike had returned to his pre-spell age. He’d made the final transition. So why wasn’t he back to normal yet? When would she get him back? Panic flooded her as she remembered Willow’s warnings about potential side effects of the spell. What if this Spike was the final transition? What if he really didn’t remember?

Her body shook with a sob as she realised the answer to one of her many questions. He was in her heart and she loved him. She loved Spike...the Spike who’d come crashing into Sunnydale all those years ago and rocked her world. She had to get him back. But Spike, the Spike downstairs. She’d promised to look after him and she couldn’t deny it, she loved him too. He was hers, her man. She couldn’t lose him.

When Spike, her loyal, doting and loving ‘boyfriend’, returned with a steaming cup of tea, Buffy was choking back cries, tears streaming down her cheeks.

To be continued...