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Author's Chapter Notes:
Heavy Angst warning!!
thanks for all the reviews.
hope you enjoy the update
For three days he’d been in his room. Not talking to anybody. The girls had been in every few hours with blood, fresh warm slayer blood and he was healing fast, but he still couldn’t walk. The burns had been down to the bone on his legs, in fact on his left leg the bone itself had burnt away in places and it hurt like a bitch. The doc had given him some sort of painkiller. He didn’t trust docs but this one smelt like Dawnie, so he did as he was told, for the first day at least, and swallowed his pills. He’d been carried upstairs by a couple of soldier boys and given a room away from all the action, mainly because his swearing was keeping Anya awake at night.

Spike was not brooding, he was … thinking… about things. It could not be classed as brooding, he wasn’t Angel. In no way did he resemble Angel. He was thinking, that’s all. That ring on her finger, a diamond that big must have cost a fortune. Spike knew that Captain Cardboard must really love Buffy to put a rock that size on her, a flawless blue diamond. It had shaken him to the core to see it there and to hear that white-bread had been the one to finally tame the slayer, to put a ring on her finger, make her his. He thought his heart would break. He knew he should have contacted her during that year with Angel, but he thought it had been for the best. Now he was here, in LA at The Hyperion, waiting for his legs to heal. He wished he could remember something after that damn dragon, but it was still a blank.

The other Slayers had been sweet, they brought him up Slayers blood three times a day, and Dawnie popped in a couple of times a day. She smelled of some wanker, the doc he thought, but he could chase him off if needed. What he’d been told was difficult, though. He was with The Great Poof and then bam it’s a whole four, five years later, near enough, and she’s engaged to that overgrown boy-scout. He wouldn’t let anyone talk about Buffy: as soon as her name was mentioned, his game face appeared. They soon learned to be quiet.

His legs ached, his shoulders ached. The burns were healing but they still hurt like buggery. As soon as he could walk properly he was leaving this hell hole, with its linen sheets and blood on tap. He had the Gem so he could just walk outside whenever he wanted, when he could walk of course.
He looked in disgust at the wheelchair the whelp had brought in for him. He hated even the thought of using it, but at least Dru wasn’t humping her bloody sire next door this time.

His … thoughts… were disturbed by a soft knocking on his door. One of the slayers he presumed, with another cup of blood. William the Bloody being fed a steady diet of Slayer Blood, with the slayers volunteering. Well that would stop as soon as he could walk properly. Legs were nearly healed now he thought to himself again, and he’d been checked over by the doc who said his face was back to normal already.

‘Come in Pet,’ he called. Only it wasn’t one of the slayerettes. It was some bird he hadn’t seen before; she didn’t set off his tingles like a slayer.

‘Hi, Spike,’ she said as she made her way into the room. ‘I’m Sam: don’t suppose you remember me, do you?’ She sounded hopeful.

‘No love, sorry.’

The bundle in her arms whimpered. ‘Whose is the nipper?’ He nodded towards the child.

‘Mine,’ came the quiet answer.

‘Shouldn’t bring him in here pet. Vampire: I eat little ‘uns for a snack.’

‘I don’t think William had anything to fear from his Godfather, do you?’ she smiled.

‘GODFATHER!!! What the bleeding ‘ell you playing at?’

‘Shush: you’ll wake him, and he’s only just been fed. Anyway, you wake him, you can put him back to sleep. William Pratt, meet William Riley Finn, your Godson.’ Sam smiled at Spike.

‘Riley Finn? Captain Cardboard’s kid? I don’t understand.’

‘No, you just shouted at Buffy before she could explain. She’s not engaged to Riley; I’m his wife, you idiot.’

She softened the words by placing her precious son in the vampire’s arms.
Spike was pinned to the seat as if by magic. This very human woman was trusting him with her child. He could smell that they were mother and child, but her heart wasn’t racing, she showed no signs of fear. She trusted him.

‘The ring, he gave her that ring,’ was all his mouth would say.

‘Yes he did, now don’t shout or you’ll wake William.’

‘William? After me?’

‘Yes: William after you. I refused to have my son called Hostile 17, so we agreed on William.’

‘The ring?’

‘Well, the ring. 1.25 Carat of blue diamond, the best that can be made, flawless. Set in a platinum band and it hasn’t come off Buffy’s hand in the year since it went on. You won’t remember this yet but you saved my life: mine, Riley’s, this little one’s,’ she added, pulling the blanket clear of the baby’s face, ‘and about 35 special forces. We were trapped. Angel had tried to take out the circle of the black thorn. We’d gone in to try and clear up the mess. He’d managed to get everyone that was with him killed, except you, and we were all trapped together.’

‘And?’

‘And you kept us safe, when we ran out of ammo you made stakes, when we needed water you found it, and when you came near to me you knew I was pregnant before I did.’

‘But the ring?’

‘I’m getting there. When you realised I was pregnant you made an escape plan. In the middle of the day you cleared the demons out the way, getting us down into the sewers and away before the Air Force bombed the place. Asked me to tell Buffy you loved her and told me to keep the baby safe. Said saving a child’s life made it all worth while, you said. We collected your ashes and had them made into a ring for Buffy. It’s you she’s wearing; it was the only thing we could give her. Only it wasn’t you we collected. The gang downstairs went in and fetched you before you were dead and left your coat for us to find.’

‘She’s not with Riley? But she smelt of him, when she was downstairs, I could smell him all over her.’ Spike wasn’t letting the idea go.

‘I’m not surprised, I was having this little one and Riley Finn wimped out of the delivery room. She was giving him a hug, that’s all.’

The baby whimpered in his arms and Spike looked down into his Godson’s eyes.

‘Going to do something nice for you kid, Godfathers are supposed to do good things for their charges. Well they did in my day at least… when this is over I’ll set up a trust fund or something, it’s not like I can have any of my own.’ He whispered to the child.

Sam smiled at the scene. One quarter of the Scourge of Europe playing peek-a-boo with a new born human.

‘Clem’s here, with his wife and child,’ she said, ‘if you want someone to talk to.’

‘I’d love to see him, pet, but I think I’d better make nice with a certain slayer first. Give us a hand.’

He passed the baby back to his mother and looked at the wheelchair. He hated those things but if he called Buffy to him he knew his nose would be in danger. This way at least he made the effort to go to her.

He heaved himself into the chair, noticing that his legs were moving by themselves. Not completely useless, he thought, and wheeled himself to the door. Sam opened it and followed him out.

‘This should be good,’ she thought.





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