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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for your reviews and comments! I really do appreciate them and I promise I'm working to get back and reply to all of you! Thank you, thank you :) I'm so happy that this fic seems to have been well received :) Much love to all of you! p. xx.
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...





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