Spike was pacing a hole in the floor in front of the television, causing Clem to lean left and right every time he blocked the screen. Margaret seemed amused by his reaction, giggling and attempting to reach for his floppy ear.
“Maybe I should jus' cancel it,” Spike growled.
“Nah, man,” Clem said. “And will you stop pacing in front of the TV? Em and I are trying to watch the game!”
“What if they do somethin' to 'er?”
Clem raised his eyebrows. “You worried about the witches? If it makes you feel better, take precautions and do a protection spell.” He looked at the baby sitting on his lap, watching her father pace back and forth. “But she's the Slayer's girl. When that comes out of your mouth, I'm pretty sure the first thing they'll wanna do is protect her all they can.”
“Yeah--from me, maybe,” Spike snapped. He shrugged on his jacket. “M'gonna get working on that spell.” He leaned over to kiss Margaret on the cheek. “Be good for ol' Clem, baby.” He snickered when she let out a wet one. “That's all you, chum,” he said, going for the door.
Clem wrinkled his already wrinkled nose and held her at arm's length, standing up to look for a diaper.
~~
“What do you think Spike wants to talk about tomorrow?” Willow asked, worrying her lip. “Do you think he knows?”
Tara put her hand on her girlfriend's. “He seems kind of distracted lately so I don't think so, honey. B-But you don't think... You don't think it might be better if we--”
Willow shook her head fiercely. “No. A big no. I just don't think it'd benefit us.” She glanced at her girlfriend, her eyes narrowed. “He's up to something. I think we should figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
Willow nearly jumped a mile in the air when Spike seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “U-Uh--”
“Willow thinks you're scheming something and wants to use magic to figure it out,” Anya deadpanned. “Are you buying something?” she asked, oblivious of the look the redhead was giving her that could possibly turn her into a newt.
Spike kept his gaze trained on Willow. “Ingredients for a protection spell, actually.”
“Protection from what?” the redhead asked, narrowing her eyes further.
The bleach blond retrained his gaze on the former vengeance demon. “This safe on children?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. Will that be all?” Anya replied, exchanging a prepared packet for the cash he handed her.
He nodded. “Thanks, luv.”
When Spike walked out, Anya hurried over to the table to join the couple. “Now I'm feeling nosy, too.”
“Great, now I feel all anxious,” Willow muttered, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face. “Maybe we should follow him.”
“Dawn said he had something to discuss with us tomorrow night, and she seemed really happy,” Tara said cautiously. “Happier than she's been since...” She pursed her lips. “I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. I-It's not like he came in here preparing for a hex.”
Willow gave a thoughtful look, nodding. “Yeah. Poor Dawnie... But things will be better soon.” She glanced at Anya. “Were you able to find any of the difficult ingredients?”
The ex-demon shook her head. “I'm still browsing. It's hard searching for something on the 'net especially when you don't know if the person on the other end is trustworthy. But I've got my own sources who can check on the authenticity of the seller.”
“Great. Thanks for being so careful,” Willow said with a nod.
Anya shrugged. “It comes with age, I guess. Plus you're making me spend perfectly good currency on something that isn't tangible until it's shipped.”
Tara glanced at her watch. “I promised Dawnie I would bake her some chocolate chip cookies before she got home. Do you want to come with, honey?”
Willow shook her head. “I think I'm gonna do some more research.” She looked at her hopefully. “Save me some?”
Tara gave her an affectionate smile. “Of course.” She shouldered her messenger bag, checking for her keys and wallet before making her way to the market and returning to Revello Drive. When she got to the house, she was surprised to find a stroller sitting on the front porch. “Dawnie?” she called out, peering around the first floor.
Dawn flinched from her spot on the living room couch. “Oh! Hey, Tara! Y-You scared me there.”
“Whose stroller is that?” she asked.
“Nobody's,” Dawn said too quickly. “I mean, nobody that you guys would know. It's the kid that I babysit.”
Tara sensed her nervousness and smiled kindly, mollifying her. “Are you watching her here at the house?”
“I will be tomorrow,” the teenager replied, worrying her bottom lip. “Th-the dad just wanted to drop some stuff off to make sure everything is here.”
“Oh, is that why you wanted to have everyone gather at the house instead of The Magic Box?”
Dawn nodded. “You got it,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“I just saw Spike there. He was getting ingredients for a protection spell.”
“Yeah, that's actually for me,” Dawn said cautiously. “I just wanted to make sure the baby was okay staying here for the night.”
The blonde smiled. “That was nice of him.” She paused. “Dawnie, are you sure you're okay?”
Dawn nodded again. “Yeah... Yeah. And he's been super nice lately... Ever since Buffy passed away. A-And even before that. Do you think anybody's noticed?”
Tara's smile widened. “Yeah. I have. I-It's good to have him on our side.” She lifted up the grocery bag she was holding. “I thought you'd still be at Janice's so I was going to start on your cookies. You up for making 'em with me?”
Dawn grinned, a hopeful look on her face. “Can I lick the spoon?”
~~
“Mmmmm!” Margaret hummed, guzzling down her bottle.
“You eat a lot for such a tiny person,” Spike murmured, stroking the soft wisps of baby hair on her forehead. He swallowed. “I love you, Margaret.” He averted his gaze. “I hope I'm not making a mistake.”
Spike jumped when the phone rang. He got up to answer it, shouldering the phone with the baby and the bottle in his other arm. “'lo?”
“Hey, Spike,” Tara greeted him cheerfully on the other line. “I talked to Dawn. It's really nice of you that you're doing a protection spell for the girl she's babysitting. Do you need help with it?”
If Spike were still alive, he reckoned his heart would be trying to jump out of his throat. He cleared it. “Hey, Glinda.” He glanced at the small girl in his arms, knowing he could trust Tara with this. “Yeah. Yeah... That'd be great. I'm at Clem's, if you could swing by later? I'll give you the address.”
“I'm free now,” Tara said. “I-If you want.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Got a pen? I'll give you the house number.”
When Tara came, Spike was relieved that Margaret had fallen asleep. She was tucked away in Clem's guest room, where he'd taken to staying the past couple weeks since he'd found his daughter left on his bed the night Buffy had jumped. He didn't quite know how he was going to explain himself to Glinda if she'd been awake for the spell. It wasn't that he didn't trust the girl, but lately he had been feeling rather iffy about her girlfriend.
“Thanks for helping,” Spike said gratefully. “See you tomorrow night.”
Tara gave a shaky smile as she went for the door. “I can't say I'm not apprehensive about this meeting tomorrow, but I... I trust you. Goodnight, Spike.”
Feeling more protective than normal, Spike scooped Margaret out of her bassinet and lied down in the twin guest bed, settling his daughter on his chest. She stirred and he gently patted her back, the rhythm putting both of them to sleep.
When the sun rose up, Spike didn't know what to do with himself until the evening. He gave Margaret a bath, had tummy time with her along with Clem, and watched the Red Wings hockey game that the loose-skinned demon had DVR'd while the little one took a nap.
Close to sundown he was antsy, pacing the small apartment with Margaret in his arms. She giggled and cooed against his shoulder, liking the fun game as she bounced in her father's arms. Spike realized he was brooding and decided to join in the fun, spinning in place and watching his daughter smile and laugh.
“Your mum would love you,” Spike said softly. “Spitting image, you are. Dark brown hair like she used to have back in high school, cute button nose...” He swallowed. “Margaret, f'not for you, I don' know where I'd be. It's still hard to think about your mum, and when I sleep, I... I dream about 'er. Every night I see her jumpi...” He stopped. “I don' want you to have bad memories of your mum. Only good ones. I'll tell you everything about her, your mum, in only a positive light. 'Cause... luv, your mum, she positively was the brightest light in my... my unlife.”
Spike's back went ramrod straight when he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and found Dawn at his doorstep and grinned at her, enveloping the teenager in a big embrace with his free arm.
Dawn grinned back. “Thought you might like some moral support.”
The vampire snorted. “Me and morals in the same sentence. Wha' a joke.”
Dawn elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Sometimes I think you might be the only one with those in this group.”
Spike smiled gently. “Ironic, that.”
The teen grabbed Margaret's diaper bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Okay. No more stalling. Let's go. And the stroller is at the house just in case we need to jet.”
“Thanks, Bit,” he said, his voice wavering.
Dawn led the way to the DeSoto, and Spike unlocked the door and put Margaret in her baby seat before joining the teenager in the front. He took his time driving the short way to Revello Drive, finding comfort in the hum and growl of his black beauty. He took in an unnecessary breath as he pulled into the drive port, blatantly ignoring the surrounding cars of the Watcher and Xander on the curb.
Dawn seemed to be clearing the way for him, easing his transition into the house as she helped unbuckle a curious-eyed Margaret from the backseat and shouldered the bag. Spike took Margaret from Dawn, both of them making their way to the front door.
The barrier had long been lifted, but Dawn wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible. She smiled widely at him. “Come in, Spike.”
Spike entered the living room in a slow saunter, taking a deep breath and taking in everyone sitting on the couch or on the loveseat or standing, waiting for him to speak.
“Spike, I don't mean to steal your thunder but I have an important announcement after you have spoken to us--” Giles paused, seemingly unsettled as he noticed the small bundle in the vampire's arms.
“Everyone,” Spike said softly, “this is Margaret. I found 'er in my crypt the day Buffy jumped, along with this card...” He handed the pastel pink paper to Giles. He faced the Watcher head on. “When I entered my crypt that night, I swore I could smell her... Could smell the Slayer. As if she was right there with me. An' when I got downstairs to my bedroom, I found this little one waiting for me on the bed.”
Giles frowned, removing his glasses and bringing the small slip of paper closer to his face. “What are you getting at?” he asked impatiently.
“I have reason to believe that this little person... Well, she's Buffy's.” He paused. “And mine.”
Xander grew red in the face. “WHAT?!”
Margaret wailed in Spike's arms. Dawn rushed over to take her, gently rocking her in an attempt to calm her down.
Willow looked over Giles' shoulder as he continued to scrutinize the paper.
“'A gift,'” Giles read softly, “'for one who deserves.'” He robotically handed the paper over to the redheaded witch, seemingly in a trance as he stepped toward Dawn.
Margaret stopped crying to curiously observe her new onlooker.
“When Buffy jumped...” Giles whispered, in awe.
Behind him, Spike nodded though he could not see the gesture. “Yeh. She's almost five months now.”
Dawn smiled at Giles and outstretched her arms, inviting Giles to hold the baby.
“You knew...” Giles said to Dawn softly, not at all accusing. He turned to Spike. “Why didn't you tell us?”
Xander's face was nearly purple. “You believe him?!”
Giles shot the dark haired man a withering look. “Xander. Did you look at her face?” He carefully took Margaret into his arms, stepping cautiously closer to Buffy's friends, all of whom had varying degrees of shocked expressions on their faces.
Margaret woefully squirmed in the Watcher's arms, crying and reaching out for Spike.
“Shh,” Spike said softly, stepping forward to caress her tiny head. “S'alright, my love.”
“Her eyes,” Tara gasped. “She's absolutely yours. And Buffy's,” she murmured, doubt absent from her voice.
Xander swallowed. “This is wrong and disgusting. Who in the fuck gave you the opportunity to do something like this, you sick fuck? We're still grieving! And you-- Why the fuck would you--”
Anya quieted him with a look, gripping his arm in a firm hold.
“We shouldn't jump to any assumptions,” Tara said softly. “This is a child. She is a gift. I see her aura, and... She's so pure. Purest out of anyone here.” She turned to Willow, who looked lost and confused.
Giles looked at Spike and then the couch behind him. “May I...?”
Spike gave a quiet nod.
The graying Brit sat down with the daughter of his charge, resting her upright on his knee. He couldn't help but grin when she reached out for his glasses.
“Buffy had curly hair like hers,” Dawn said quietly. “One day Mom had it cut, maybe when she was three or four, and the curls just went away.” She glanced at Spike. “But your hair is naturally curly, isn't it?”
He nodded, and was quiet for a long while. “I was afraid,” Spike spoke up. He met the Watcher's eye when the man raised his head. “I was afraid she'd be met with anger and criticism and hate instead of love and adoration as a child should. Tha's why I waited so long. I don' know how she got here, or why, but... She IS a gift. A gift to us all, I think.” He couldn't help but crack a smile. “She's only four months but when it's tummy time – she used to hate it and scream – but one day I put a book in front o'her. Jus' picked one up from the dollar store. An' Clem or Dawn or I would jus' turn the pages and she'd just soak it all up and forget how uncomfortable being on her stomach is. She's got at least twenty of 'em now.” He looked into the eyes of Buffy's closest friends. “She loves to be held and spun in place. I could puke going in circles but f'it makes her laugh and smile, I'd do it forever. Righ' now she puts everything in her mouth. Not really teething yet, but I guess it's her way of feeling out for things. Books, toys, she tried chomping on the dining room table once... Everything but a bloody pacifier. Tried every one I could find and she'd jus' spit it out.”
He sighed. “I don' care if you don't believe me about who she is. But I consider her my own daughter, an' if any of you even think to put a hand or even think one bad thought about her, we're gone. M'takin' her with me, someplace safer where she can be loved and cherished, and not targeted for unwarranted hatred. I brought her here today because I am sure that you would all love her just as much as I do. She is as human as can be. F'you don' believe me, try changing one of 'er dirty nappies.” He gave a small smirk.
He glanced at Dawn. “If it's alright with you, Bit, I'd like to show her photo albums of her mum and grandmum as she gets older. I want her to know how wonderful her mother was, as a person and as a champion. I don' want to hide anything from her. At all.”
Dawn nodded enthusiastically. “Of course.”
“S'gettin' late for her,” Spike said softly to the Watcher. “Should put her to bed.”
Giles nodded and transferred her into her father's arms. Spike took her upstairs.
As he disappeared into Buffy's room, everyone's shock seemed to fade. Willow and Xander sank down into the sofa.
“What are you thinking?” Xander asked quietly.
Willow shook her head, her eyes locked on a spot on the top of the stairs. But as much as she wanted to, she wouldn't dare voice her thoughts.
If she for some reason couldn't summon a fawn for the resurrection, the child would more than do.
[Reviews - 52]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 2552 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +