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un-beta'd, so beware
Chapter 27

Hank whipped around to stare at his daughter, his mind trying once more to make sense of things. His mouth opened to demand an explanation only to be interrupted before any words could leave his mouth.

"Mommy," Blake whined pitifully.

"Oh baby," Buffy exclaimed with concern, crossing the room in two steps to sink down next to Spike on the couch. "My poor little tough guy is sick?"

Blake nodded sadly, then returned his cheek to its prior position against the hard planes of Spike's chest while he stared up at his mom.

Buffy smoothed the limp curls back off the little face, her brow furrowing with concern. "Spike, he's burning up."

"I know." Spike looked down into the drooping eyes of their son. "I tried giving him some of that orange stuff that you had labeled in the cupboard. Good job with that, by the way. Found I hadn't really been paying attention when you were showing me where stuff was."

Buffy snorted, drawing her legs up under her so she could scoot closer to Spike and Blake on the couch. "Please. I know where your attention was that day, stealth guy." She leaned into his side and began stroking Blake's head. "How long ago did you give him the Motrin?"

"About ten minutes ago. Problem is, I think your dad is wearing most of it."

Buffy glanced over at her dad, almost having forgotten that he was even there in wake of seeing how pitiful her son was. Chewing her lower lip, she finally noticed the state of his clothes and grimaced. "Oh god, Blake threw up all over you?"

"It would appear that way," Hank replied a bit tightly, trying to refrain from demanding answers and explanations to some very obvious questions. He didn't like at all the direction his thoughts were taking.

"Should have seen it, luv. It was something all right. Almost like a scene right out of the Exorcist. Your dad didn't stand a chance."

Buffy couldn't help the amused look that stole over her face, which quickly turned subdued when she caught sight of her dad's rigid posture and pressed lips.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. "Who exactly is this, Buffy?"

Both Spike and Buffy's backs stiffened at the hostility present in the heated question, exchanging telling glances.

"He's my daddy."

The determination and venom in which Blake imparted that information belied his illness, and Hank was reduced to staring with his mouth agape.

It had indeed been a while since he had last seen his grandson and he had not been expecting this level of maturity to be present in such a young voice.

What else had he missed in his self-imposed absence?

Spike had to work to keep his smirk in check as he watched his son keep a narrowed, steely stare pinned on his grandfather, a challenge clearly being thrown. It did him right proud, it did.

Hank's features softened and he gave Blake a small smile. "Yes, I can see that, Blake. You look just like your daddy."

Blake gave his grandpa one more look, then nodded. Suddenly his face scrunched up in confusion.

"Who you again?"

At that, Spike couldn't help the snicker that escaped, quickly sobering up at Buffy's heated look.

"That's your grandfather, Blake," Buffy explained patiently.

Blake shook his head slowly. "I don't knows him."

"It been a while since he's seen you. You were just a little guy the last time,' Buffy commented gently, but not quite keeping the accusation out of her voice.

Blake nodded. "Hi Gwanpa."

Hank couldn't help but smile at the adorable little boy. "Hello Blake."

Wanting to avoid confrontation, Buffy nudged Spike. "Come on and help me give him some Tylenol for his fever."

"I thought we just gave him something."

"You did and he threw it up. Now we're giving him something else." Buffy stood up and arched her eyebrow, clearly indicating for Spike to follow.

More than content to escape the company of Buffy's father, Spike lumbered to his feet and followed Buffy out of the living room, Blake firmly set in his arms.

"You do realize you aren't supposed to have him against your bare skin like that, don't you? You're not helping his body temperature there, you know," Hank lectured in a self-righteous tone as they passed by him.

Spike ignored him and refrained from tossing him a chilling look as he followed Buffy into the kitchen.

"Stupid git," Spike mumbled.

Buffy pinned a severe look on him. "Behave. He doesn't know anything, ok? All he knows right now is that you were the cause of some major freakage two years ago and you got me pregnant. I'm sure his brain is working overtime trying to fill in the blanks. You're lucky he hasn't called you out."

Spike snorted. "Please. Like that scares me."

Buffy's face gentled. "Spike, I know he's been a jerk but he's still my dad. I need this to be ok."

And just like that, Spike found himself feeling contrite, nodding to concede to her wishes. "I'll work on it."

Buffy nodded, knowing without those spoken words that Spike had already gone against his true nature and kept his mouth shut and his fangs to himself. There had been full disclosure on her part regarding how much her dad's self-imposed exile had hurt her and Buffy knew Spike's thoughts on the matter of her father.

And they weren't flattering.

But nothing more needed to be said between them as Buffy gave Blake the Tylenol she had poured into a small measuring cup. Blake took it without complaining and Buffy relieved Spike of his precious burden.

At his questioning look, Buffy answered, "I'm taking him upstairs to change him."

Spike nodded and watched as his girl swept out of the kitchen, a drowsy Blake perched in her arms.

Making a mental note to read up on anything that he might need to know about toddler first aid and illness, Spike turned around to put the medications back into the cupboard and wash the tiny cup that had been used.

With his back to the kitchen entry, Spike tensed when he heard heavy footsteps enter but refused to turn around, instead concentrated on the other dirty dishes that waited for him in the sink.

"I want to know what is going here," Hank demanded.

Spike expelled a pent-up sigh and drew out his housekeeping duties, keeping his back to the door. "I'm washing the dishes, is what."

Spike wasn't surprised to hear the footsteps cross the room or when his arm was grabbed, and he merely let himself be manhandled by this...human. Spike knew her dad had reason to be angry for his part and Hank actually scored some points with him for this hostile confrontation, his demon appreciating the violence.

You think I can't see what's going on here?" Hank demanded angrily. "I was there that night. I know what you did."

Spike's brow tipped in sardonic question. "And what exactly did I do?" He knocked Hank's imprisoning grip off of his arm easily as he took a step forward. "Would that be where I took advantage of a beautiful and sweet sixteen year old girl?"

Spike couldn't help the evil smile that slid over his face at the anger that erupted within the other man. "Because you're right, I did." Ignoring the gasps of pure rage that sounded from the mortal in front of him, Spike continued, "But that beautiful and sweet sixteen year old was just ripe for the picking and do you know why?"

Spike didn't allow Hank an opportunity to answer his rhetorical question. "Because her dad left her all alone in a strange hotel so he could have a quick go with some bimbo with huge tits."

The guilt on Hank's face was immediate and Spike's responding smile was mocking. "So yeah, I might have been the monster, I admit it. But you're not exactly guiltless here, you know."

Hank was torn; fury that this man had admitted attacking his daughter warred with the ever present guilt that he carried around inside of him about that night. "She should have safe," he uttered, knowing the moment the words left his mouth how inane they sounded.

"Yeah, but she wasn't, was she? So was the precious Missy worth it, Hank?"

Hank started at the mention of the girl's name he had left his daughter's side for in Vegas two years ago. "Did Buffy tell you her name?"

Full lips twisted into a smirk. "Didn't need to. Was right there, you know. Saw and heard the whole thing for myself."

Finally catching on to what Spike was doing, Hank invaded his personal space once again. "I may have left her, but you're still the one who took advantage."

Now it was Spike's turn to host a look of guilt, but before he could reply, Buffy's voice broke through the smoldering tension. "I leave for 2 minutes and you guys are already getting into it?"

Hank backed off as he turned to regard his daughter, noting the rigid posture she had adopted.

"Where's Blake?" Spike asked worriedly.

"He fell asleep again so I put him in his crib."

Spike nodded then turned back to the dishes. Damned if he was going to answer Buffy's questions, her dad could field her wrath.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find out what has been going on here," he attempted, glaring at Spike's turned back.

Buffy suddenly sighed, finding herself exhausted. "Look, I know it seems weird and all kinds of suspicious, but you're just going to have to take my word for it. Whatever happened between Spike and me two years ago is no longer open for discussion. We have dealt with it, come to terms with it, and have totally moved on."

Spike turned his head to capture the sincerity of her eyes, not bothering to mask the reaction her words had on him. Her open acceptance of him continued to astound and humble him and he flashed a smile her way.

She allowed herself to return his smile before turning to her dad again. "Got it? It's over and done with."

"But Buffy, I saw you that night. He obviously did something to you, something horrible." Hank paused to glare at the man responsible. "In fact, if you want to press charges, I can..."

"DAD! Did you NOT hear me? I'm not being brainwashed, I'm not being naive. It's just...not important anymore." Drawing herself up firmly, she crossed the room to wrap her arms around Spike's waist. "What IS important is that Spike is my life now and I love him."

Spike could feel a burst of unbidden tears well up at Buffy's sincere declaration and he bent down to press a kiss onto the top of her head, wrapping his arm protectively around her.

"I don't like this," Hank announced, watching the tender display. He was having trouble getting past how terrified Buffy had been that night and seeing this easy acceptance just didn't sit right in his brain.

Buffy's face closed off a fraction. "You don't have to like it. You just have to accept it."

Hank crossed his arms over his chest. "So what? He's just... been living here? Freeloading off your mother? Is that it?"

Buffy had to physically restrain Spike from charging. "Not freeloading off anybody," he growled.

"You are living here, are you not?"

A curt nod followed his remark and Hank shrugged his shoulders, preparing to find flaw when Buffy's hard-edged voice barged in.
"Dad, just stop. I mean, what gives you the right to barge back into my life and pass judgment? You haven't been here, you don't know how things have been. If you can't just accept what I am telling you, then I want you to leave."

Hank stared at his daughter, trying to find some trace of the fragile girl he remembered.

But he realized that girl was gone.

His daughter had grown up, and he hadn't been there to see it.

With a heavy sigh, Hank did the only thing he could do. He nodded, letting Buffy know that he would not interfere.

He still didn't like it though.
tbc

Many thanks to kar, vicki, txjmfan, cordykitten, steph, franchesca, spikesniblet, ariel Dawn, Elanor, buffyrat, anne, kimber, reciprocity, jen, buffyandspikeforevre, jessica, ebontier, gypsy_jin and crystal pegasus for taking the time to review!





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