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CHAPTER 3 --

The silver California moon streamed through the open window. A light breeze moved the gauzy white curtains. A copy of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” lay forgotten at Spike’s feet as he rhythmically moved the rocking chair back and forth. Lisa had fallen asleep in his arms after he’d read her some children’s books he’d had his publisher send him.

His heart had ached as he recited the fairy tale. Lisa had pointed at each picture, cheerily naming each dwarf and bird. She still didn’t talk much, but she had yet to mention Angel or her mother in any way. It made Spike wonder just how many times she had been ushered into someone else’s home that led her to be so unconcerned by abrupt changes in surroundings.

Lisa had adapted as well as could be expected. The last time Spike had talked to his father, the elder Giles had suggested that the little girl had most likely had an easier time of it than Spike had.

Spike himself had refrained from comment, not willing to admit it was most likely true.

He hadn’t bothered to contact his father’s friend yet. Though Giles insisted it was stubborn of him not to. But they were doing just fine together so far, if Spike said so himself. They were beginning to get into a schedule of sorts. They both liked to sleep in a little, usually eating breakfast around ten o’clock. Then they watched cartoons, both equally fascinated by the Rollie Pollie Ollies. Later in the day, when Lisa napped, Spike broke out his laptop and worked.

It didn’t take long for Spike to realize that he must have lucked out and gotten the most low-maintenance child on the face of the earth. She was independent -- well, as independent as a three year old could be -- and quiet. Numerous times Spike would creep by her bedroom and stand outside the door and listen in as Lisa maneuvered her doll around the room, playing “house.”

Granted, they had their rough spots. The first bathroom experience had been an interesting one. From using the toilet to taking a bath, Spike had been utterly clueless. How many times a week did you give a young child a bath? But Lisa seemed to have a system down and was very helpful to her overwhelmed uncle, going so far as to hand him the shampoo and soap, dictating the correct order.

He looked down at the sleeping baby girl in his lap, “It’s just me and you now, isn’t it poppet?” He leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head, situating the blanket more securely around them, before resting his head against the back of the chair and allowing his eyes to drift shut.



And I could write a song
A hundred miles long
Well that’s where I belong
And you belong with me

You cut me down to size
And opened up my eyes
Made me realize
What I could not see

Not swallowed in the sea
You belong with me
-Coldplay’s “Swallowed In The Sea”




A few days later, Spike deemed it time to explore their new neighborhood. Knowing there was a local park within walking distance, he suited up his newly acquired charge and together they made the trek to the busy playground.

Content to play on her own, Lisa warily ventured to the sandbox, glancing over every couple minutes to make sure Spike was still at the nearby bench watching her.

But she needn’t worry, for her uncle was slowly revealing himself to be the most overprotective guardian on the grounds. Paranoid to the extent of feeling ridiculous, Spike maneuvered himself around the parameter to follow Lisa’s every move. When she climbed to the top of the slide, Spike made his way towards the other end, making sure she shot out at the bottom. What Spike thought would happen to her inside the five feet of tubing was beyond him, but he couldn’t help himself.

Children tend to be a little squishy and bruise easy and cry even easier. When Lisa had been running around their living room, she banged her knee against the coffee table in the middle of the room, letting out a blood-curling scream that had Spike tripping through the doorway to get to her.

Spike was determined to see this kid to at least the age of four.

Lost in thought for a split second, Spike jumped when he felt a tug on his pant leg. That was another reason he watched her like a hawk. He had learned in his short foray into parenthood that kids could disappear within nanoseconds. He’d sit Lisa down for lunch, turn around to get a bowl, then find her twenty stressful minutes later hidden behind the pots and pans in the cupboard. Now his niece looked up at him, her little fingers still wrapped around his jeans, “I gotta go potty.”

“Um . . . Okay . . . Ah . . .” Spike looked around helplessly. This was new. They’d never been in a public place before when this particular situation had arose. And he couldn’t just wish her luck and send her into a strange bathroom, she’d need help. Was he supposed to take her into the men’s room? He couldn’t do that -- what if some guy was taking a piss? That would raise a whole bunch of questions he was not prepared to answer. And he certainly couldn’t go into the ladies room.

Someone behind him must have witnessed his distress. “I can take her,” a bright female voice called from behind him.

Spike spun around, temporarily struck dumb by the sight that met him. Her hair was wavy, parted on the side, and the color of sunshine. She was wearing black dress pants and some sort of frilly tank top. When she smiled at him and Lisa, her teeth shone as white as the clouds above them.

The beautiful blonde knelt down to the baby’s height, “Hi, I’m Buffy, what’s your name?” she asked sweetly.

“Lisa,” she answered, twisting in her sundress.

Buffy took in the little girl’s ensemble, “Did you pick out your own outfit this morning, Lisa?”

The little brunette shook her head, “No, my Uncle Spike did,” Lisa pointed up at her relation.

Buffy giggled, glancing at Spike before turning back to Lisa, “Well that explains why you have two mismatched shoes on,” she looked to Spike.

“I’m a little new at this,” Spike ducked his head sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is it okay if I take her?” Buffy asked, waiting for his consent.

Spike fumbled with his words, “I’d be eternally grateful,” he finally got out.

She smiled at his again -- smile that was going to be the death of him. Turning back to Lisa, she held out her hand. The little girl instantly grabbed on and allowed herself to be led to the small concrete building that housed the public restrooms.

Minutes later, Buffy and Lisa emerged from the restroom.

“All done,” Buffy reported as they approached, “and were you aware that her underwear was on backwards?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he smiled ruefully, which earned him another laugh from Buffy. “So,” he continued, unwilling to let their paths uncross just yet, “you come here often? You bring your kids here, I guess.” His eyes swept the playground, on the lookout for a group of brat kids to come running to interrupt them, tugging on their mother’s pants leg. But on the other hand, Spike was in no position to be dating right now.

But Buffy, to his immense pleasure, shook her head, “No, I cut through here on my way home from work. It’s my lunch break and I was going home to grab some papers.”

“I’m hungry,” Lisa objected, looking up forlornly at her uncle.

“Okay,” Spike replied, his mind making a quick shift in focus, it had been hours since breakfast. He looked to Buffy again for help, “We’re kind of new to the area, do you know anywhere where we could get some food?” He said it in earnest, not in flirting, having other priorities at the moment besides getting laid, among them not starving a toddler. It felt different.

“Actually, I was headed to this place called Al’s. They make pretty good pancakes.” She turned to Lisa, “You like pancakes?”

Lisa nodded eagerly in response and both girls looked to Spike for the final verdict.

“Lead the way.”

TBC





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