The characters from Angel do not belong to me, but to the great one in whose shadow I humbly bow, Joss Whedon. Rose, on the other hand, is mine.
The Road to Hell
Picture Perfect
Rose had decided that they were going to get a family portrait taken. At first, Spike had demurred. Rose had coaxed, cajoled and wheedled. Spike got stubborn. Rose put her dainty little foot down. Spike wavered. That night, after the twins had been put to bed, Rose had crawled onto Spike's lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and used other forms of persuasion.
Spike caved.
Well, the day was here, and Spike was ready, but no one else seemed to be. He resembled a moderately well-to-do businessman at morning coffee in the dress shirt and slacks that Rose had talked him into, at the moment, except for a few things. One, he was way better looking than the average business man. Two, upon inspection, the paper he was reading was not turned to the financial section, but the comics. And lastly, the mug close at hand contained blood rather than coffee.
Spike was just reaching for his mug when another hand made to grab it too. A little hand.
"Wait just a minute there, precious," he scolded gently. "That's daddy's. Daddy will get you some of your own." Spike put down the paper, got a sippy cup down out of the cupboard and filled it about half-full with blood. A few seconds in the microwave and it was the perfect temperature. He knelt down on the floor. "Doesn't daddy's little girl look pretty today?" he remarked. Spittin' image of her mum, she was. He held the cup out of Ariel's reach. "Give daddy a kiss first."
Chubby little toddler arms wrapped around his neck and soft baby lips planted wet kisses on his cheek. "Thank you, daddy," she said in her little lisping voice as Spike gave her the cup.
"Where's your brother?" Spike asked. Even though they had finally gotten them sleeping in separate beds, the twins were seldom apart.
A dulcet baby giggle. "Fussing with mummy," Ariel explained. "Al'ric doesn't want to wear a tie. Like daddy."
Spike winced a bit. He'd been pretty vocal about not wearing a tie, but he hadn't intended to start a general insurrection on account of it. He lifted the little girl up onto one of the chairs. "Why don't you be a good girl and wait here nice and quiet like while daddy gives your mum a hand?" he suggested. He tweaked her nose and was rewarded with another giggle and a sunny smile. He headed for the twin's room.
"For heaven's sake, Alaric, hold still." Rose's voice drifted out of the room. "Mummy just wants you to look nice for the pictures."
"Not wearing a nancy-boy tie," Alaric said stubbornly. Spike looked in the doorway to see his son's face puffed out in a pout. "Don't want to look like a big ponce."
Rose sighed. She'd been at Spike repeatedly to watch what he said around the children, and he had tried. But the way he put things was so much a part of his persona that it hadn't fully taken. Not saying it wouldn't have been enough anyway, but she couldn't very well tell him what to think, though she had tried upon occasion. She just wished that sometimes the twins would pick up on someone else's thoughts other than their father's. She tried again. "You look like a little gentleman," she said coaxingly. She found it hard to scold him. He was the very picture of his father, although the blond waves covering his little head were the results of nature rather than artifice.
"Alaric." Spike's voice came from the doorway, where he was leaning indolently against the frame. "Do as your mum tells you."
"I look a right nit," the little boy sulked, but finally gave in and allowed his mother to tie the tie.
"You look very handsome," Rose corrected him gently. She looked up at Spike. "Where is Ariel?"
"In the kitchen," Spike replied. "Left her sitting there with her cup."
Rose froze a moment, having a horrible visual. "What is in her cup?" she asked weakly. She thought she already knew.
"Blood," Spike answered, puzzled. Rose was, or ought to be used to the fact that now that she wasn't pregnant, she was the only one in the household that didn't drink blood.
Rose closed her eyes a moment, as if praying for divine guidance, and perhaps she was. She was, after all, on a first name basis with most divinities. "She's wearing her good clothes and you gave her blood?" she inquired in the mildest of tones. That alone was enough to bring Spike up short. When Rose was being that deliberately calm, it meant that she was on the verge of monumentally pissed. "Spike, what on earth were you thinking of?"
"What?" For a moment, Spike was totally confused. Then, it finally dawned on him, that even a sippy cup tended to leak when upended, and for all their verbal precociousness, the twins were only eighteen months old and not too well coordinated yet. He made a beeline back to the kitchen.
He was too late. His precious baby girl looked like she had had a front row seat to an axe murder, and Spike wondered idly if she had actually drunk any of it, or merely poured it all over herself. "Bleeding hell," he swore softly, forgetting himself. "Your mum's gonna kill me."
"All gone, daddy." Ariel held out the empty cup.
&&&&&&&
The coven were all met to discuss their plans. Big plans.
"The blue moon is only three weeks away," one of the thirteen observed. "If we miss this chance to cast the spell, it will be years before we can even make the attempt again."
"We have found the location where the spell will be the most efficacious," announced another. "What is keeping us from it?"
"There is one item we need to cast the spell that we have not yet located," a third replied. "Indeed, it is something I have never heard of. Perhaps the whole notion behind the spell is a poor joke."
"What is the item?" asked one of the others.
"The blood of a vampire who is pure of heart," the coven's leader replied. "But since vampires are, by their natures, evil then..,"
"How can we find one that is pure of heart?" finished yet another of the coven's members.
"How indeed?" murmured the leader.
&&&&&&&
"Never did see a woman who hated shopping as much as you do, pet," Spike remarked, as they carried several bags up to their flat with the children frolicking on ahead of them.
"Maybe because you always get carried away?" Rose suggested. "Besides, we weren't even going to go shopping. We were just getting the pictures taken." She thought of the interminable half-hour at the studio. "I hope the pictures turn out well."
"Don't see why they shouldn't," Spike replied. "The photographer even said he'd never seen such a good-looking group before." He looked insufferably smug.
"What is all this stuff?" Rose asked. "I don't remember getting this much."
"Well," Spike said hesitantly. "You did say the kids were growing out of their shoes."
"I did," Rose agreed. "And shoes for the children would not fill all these shopping bags. Did I see you looking at little girl's outfits again? Spike, Ariel has enough clothes to stock a small store now."
"And two outfits got ruined today," Spike muttered. He looked a little shamefaced, since the destruction of both of them could be laid squarely at his feet.
"Why did you feel you had to get them ice cream?" Rose inquired.
"They'd been so good at the photo studio," Spike explained. "I thought they ought to have something for the effort."
"And of course it just had to be chocolate, since it stains so well," Rose sighed. "What's in that other bag? The one you wouldn't let me carry or even look inside?"
Spike smirked. He knew which bag she was referring to. From Victoria's Secret. He'd popped in while Rose had been trying to clean ice cream off of two little faces. "It's a surprise," he murmured in sly tones. "For later." He glanced up to see what the kids were up to, but they were just running around in good, high spirits. Rowdy, but behaving.
"I think I've had enough surprises for the day," Rose muttered weakly.
"You'll like this surprise," Spike promised her. He took a closer look at her and realized that even though the day was barely half over, she looked about all done in. If she was this tired now, how was she going to feel when it was time to spring his surprise on her? Wouldn't be any fun at all if she was too tired to.., "Why don't you pop in and visit with Angel for a bit, luv?" he suggested. "I'll watch the kids for a couple of hours. Give you a chance to get a breather." Proof of how much he wanted her rested enough to be in the mood if he could bring himself to suggest that she go spend time with the ponce.
"I don't know." Rose thought of the state their home might be in when she returned. When Spike said he was going to take care of the children, it usually meant a fairly destructive playtime. All of which she generally ended up cleaning up after. But the idea of some time away from her two little bundles of energy, much as she loved them, did hold a certain appeal. She had very little time any more that was adults only, and she was surprised to find that she missed. it. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure," Spike insisted. "And I promise that we won't trash the place." Inspiration struck. "I'll read to them. They always sit quiet if you read to them."
Rose smiled. The twins had greatly enjoyed being read to from all their children's books. From the time they were still in the womb until they were about a month old. Then, they'd started demanding slightly more.., esoteric fare. Now that they were a year and a half old, their tastes were, well, different. She smiled, wondering how Spike would take it when he found out what their current interest was. "Fine, love," she murmured. "We're about half-way through the Slayer's handbook."
&&&&&&&
Angel had a dvd in the player, but he was half-dozing over it. The movie had made a lot of promises, and wasn't living up to any of them. It was almost a relief, even if it was a surprise to hear someone at the door.
"Rose." He smiled to see her, but his pleasure at the unexpected visit received a slight check. "Is everything all right?" She did look a little frayed around the edges.
"Fine," Rose assured him. "Spike just thought I could use a little time away from the children. It has been a rather hectic morning."
"Come in and sit down," Angel said, remembering his manners, now that his nerves had been calmed. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Please." Rose smiled at him. "And if you don't mind, while you're getting it, I'm going to use your bathroom and tidy up a bit. I'm all sticky."
&&&&&&&&
"'The newly raised dead are fairly single-minded about feeding and will let little distract them, thus making them far easier targets than older vampires.'" Spike read aloud. "What a crock of.., load of codswallop," he corrected himself hastily. "I've seen plenty of new vamps that had a lot more on their minds than a quick bite."
"Stop," Alaric demanded, then his brow furrowed in thought, trying to come up with the right word. He held a quick, silent conference with his twin. That was the right word, but the frustrating thing was that it was too hard to pronounce, just yet. So, he thought it at his father. "'Editorializing'."
"That's a pretty big word." Spike was constantly being impressed by his offspring. But then, hadn't he told Rose that they were going to be smart? "But you know your mum wants you to talk instead of thinking at people."
"Can't say it yet." Alaric was looking a little sulky again, peeved at the restrictions of being a baby. It didn't bother Ariel half so much. She usually found ways to say what she wanted without getting into such deep waters. Alaric's mind veered away from the contents of the book for a moment. "It's a pretty color," he observed. "But won't mummy get cold?"
Ariel giggled. She, unlike her father, knew what her brother was referring to. "I heard daddy thinking when he bought it," she announced. "It's not for keeping mummy warm. It's for taking off again."
Suddenly, Spike got it, and wished that he hadn't. He and Rose tried to keep things toned down while the kids were up and about, but he suspected them of shamming sometimes when they were supposed to be asleep. As a result the twins knew far more about their parent's love life than most children ever know. It led to all sorts of awkward situations. Like this one. He covered his eyes with a hand. How was he going to dig himself out of this one?
&&&&&&&
Angel handed Rose a cup. "I hope that the ice cream came after the pictures and not before," he remarked.
"It did," Rose replied, taking a sip of her coffee. "Thank goodness for small favors. Spike wanted to treat the children for being so well behaved." And they had been. In public, they were little angels. It was when they got home that they turned into little hellions. "This is nice," she sighed. "I love my children to death, Angel. But sometimes they drive me insane."
Angel smiled. A lot of women felt that way, he was sure. And none of them had children like Alaric and Ariel. "Wes has been champing at the bit wondering when you're going to come back to work," he commented. "Have you ever thought of hiring a nanny, Rose? Even just a couple of days a week. You could come to work and give yourself a break from the kids. It would probably be good for you and them."
"But how would I find someone?" Rose asked. The idea held some attraction. "You have to admit that they're not.., normal children. How many humans could cope with them?"
Angel thought about it for a moment. "Good point," he conceded. "It's going to have to be someone who can deal with the fact that they drink blood and already have a better vocabulary than some adults."
"Not to mention someone that can deal with having their mind read on a regular basis," Rose remarked. "Do you think we'll be able to find someone like that?"
"There's got to be someone out there who can handle it," Angel replied. "Want me to help you write a help-wanted ad?"
&&&&&&&
A small, unassuming man sat reading the help-wanted ads a few days later. So far, it had been a bust. Stuff that required degrees that he didn't have, or another Mcjob. He glanced idly at the child-care section. He wasn't sure if anyone would actually hire him to take care of their kids, but children generally seemed to like his quiet demeanor. That one looked a little different. And promised a pretty good salary for part-time. It read, 'Three days a week. Care for eighteen month old twins. Special needs children. Apply at Wolfram and Hart.' That and the salary. Well, why not apply? He needed the bread, and the worst they could do was turn him down. He threw down some change to pay for the bitter cup of coffee he'd just gagged down and headed out towards his battered van. Wolfram and Hart. Wasn't that a law firm? Who there would need a babysitter?