II. The Ice-cream Run
***
Twenty ish years earlier
***
"You know why Slayers don't have children," Spike ranted into the night as he stalked the streets of Sunnydale, "Because they turn into bleedin' bitches."
She had kicked him out of bed for a pint of Ben and Jerry's, after she had sworn her love to him. It had been like this for two months. He loved her and was used to taking care of a difficult woman. Lord knows Dru was always a handful. However he was sick of being her abuse toy.
She was always sick in the morning, she had cravings that could not be denied, she put a new definition to cranky. And Spike bore the brunt of it. He held back her hair as she wretched up her intestines, even as a vampire the morning ritual made him queasy. He went to the store no matter what the hour, or the problem, the guys at the mini-mart knew him well. He was the one who was her verbal and physical punching bag. She had all the Slayer strength and Buffy mouthiness, intensified by hormones.
Spike swigged the Jameson's that he had hidden in the house. He wasn't allowed to drink anymore, he had to sneak around. Even Harris and the Watcher had started to aid him in his drinking habits. They knew the woman was impossible.
He walked through the cemetery. He could have driven, but he was itching for a fight. There had to be something somewhere to hit. He would even enjoy the pain of finding a human doing something wrong.
It never even occurred to Spike to hit a pedestrian that he passed. He no longer thought of hurting anyone who didn't deserve it.
"Yeah, I'm the Big Bad," he muttered sarcastically swinging the bag with three flavors of Ben and Jerry's. Buffy always wanted more, he had learned.
He knew that he hadn't been the Big Bad since Joyce had hit him over the head.
"Prob'ly hit something all out of place," he muttered rubbing his head.
Ever since that moment he had become entranced by Summer's women. They may not like him all of the time, but the Powers thought it funny to put him in charge.
"Good Job," he congratulated himself, "Only two died."
With that thought he remembered what he almost lost. he stopped, his bag swinging like a pendulum.
He reached for a cigarette in his secret pocket. Buffy had outlawed the cigarettes along with the liquor.
He remember the feeling knowing Buffy was dead. He thought of the new Summer's woman he had to protect. The new little life that was growing in Buffy's body. He had never grown tired of looking at the swell of her stomach. He had spent night after night watching Buffy breathe and just stare dumfounded at her belly.
Spike's anger disappeared. He turned to the direction of the house on Revello Drive. His woman and his child.
He had never created anything in his life, except for poetry that he didn't like to dwell on. Then his life ended and he had never really created. Making vampires was destroying. He had created unlife, but he had never before created life. He had been responsible for so much damage, but the thing that woke him in a cold sweat at night was the responsibility of the little daughter who would be joining them in four months.
He was so lost in his own amazement he didn't sense them, he didn't even hear the hiss of the taser. His world simply went black.
***
***
Twenty ish years earlier
***
"You know why Slayers don't have children," Spike ranted into the night as he stalked the streets of Sunnydale, "Because they turn into bleedin' bitches."
She had kicked him out of bed for a pint of Ben and Jerry's, after she had sworn her love to him. It had been like this for two months. He loved her and was used to taking care of a difficult woman. Lord knows Dru was always a handful. However he was sick of being her abuse toy.
She was always sick in the morning, she had cravings that could not be denied, she put a new definition to cranky. And Spike bore the brunt of it. He held back her hair as she wretched up her intestines, even as a vampire the morning ritual made him queasy. He went to the store no matter what the hour, or the problem, the guys at the mini-mart knew him well. He was the one who was her verbal and physical punching bag. She had all the Slayer strength and Buffy mouthiness, intensified by hormones.
Spike swigged the Jameson's that he had hidden in the house. He wasn't allowed to drink anymore, he had to sneak around. Even Harris and the Watcher had started to aid him in his drinking habits. They knew the woman was impossible.
He walked through the cemetery. He could have driven, but he was itching for a fight. There had to be something somewhere to hit. He would even enjoy the pain of finding a human doing something wrong.
It never even occurred to Spike to hit a pedestrian that he passed. He no longer thought of hurting anyone who didn't deserve it.
"Yeah, I'm the Big Bad," he muttered sarcastically swinging the bag with three flavors of Ben and Jerry's. Buffy always wanted more, he had learned.
He knew that he hadn't been the Big Bad since Joyce had hit him over the head.
"Prob'ly hit something all out of place," he muttered rubbing his head.
Ever since that moment he had become entranced by Summer's women. They may not like him all of the time, but the Powers thought it funny to put him in charge.
"Good Job," he congratulated himself, "Only two died."
With that thought he remembered what he almost lost. he stopped, his bag swinging like a pendulum.
He reached for a cigarette in his secret pocket. Buffy had outlawed the cigarettes along with the liquor.
He remember the feeling knowing Buffy was dead. He thought of the new Summer's woman he had to protect. The new little life that was growing in Buffy's body. He had never grown tired of looking at the swell of her stomach. He had spent night after night watching Buffy breathe and just stare dumfounded at her belly.
Spike's anger disappeared. He turned to the direction of the house on Revello Drive. His woman and his child.
He had never created anything in his life, except for poetry that he didn't like to dwell on. Then his life ended and he had never really created. Making vampires was destroying. He had created unlife, but he had never before created life. He had been responsible for so much damage, but the thing that woke him in a cold sweat at night was the responsibility of the little daughter who would be joining them in four months.
He was so lost in his own amazement he didn't sense them, he didn't even hear the hiss of the taser. His world simply went black.
***