London 1981
Spike was bored, and lonely. Ever since Dru had been killed by a slayer 5 years ago, the
fun had gone out of being evil. He had stopped killing, and was sticking to pig's blood.
He was nothing like the bloody poof, though. Nothing at all. He did not brood. He never
brooded. He just had deep thoughts, that's all. Before Spike could get any deeper into
thoughts about Angel, he had to jump out the way of a fat, ugly man in a fancy car
speeding out of an alley like demons were after him. He decided to check and see if there
were actually demons, just in case. There weren't any; all Spike found was a baby in a
cardboard box. He was about a year old, and had a weird scar on his forehead. Spike's
thought's went immediately to the fat man, and how he could track him down and kill
him. But that wouldn't help the baby, who was currently screaming his lungs out. "Oh,
bloody hell. What do you want me to do about it? I can't make him come back for you."
Sighing heavily, he picked up the baby, who immediately stopped screaming. "Great. I
suppose that means you like me, huh, kid? You want to stay with me? All right, if you
insist. But you'll need a name." He held the baby up and studied him.
"You look like a Michael to me. Michael Aurelius, you like that?" Spike looked up the
gradually lightening sky. "Come on then, little bit. Daddy needs to get out of the sun.
Hey! Daddy. I like that. Let's go Mikey. And so spike left the alley happy and no longer
lonely for the first time in 5 years, carrying the child formerly known as Harry Potter.