STATUS: If I get some good reviews, I may continue it.
RATING: G

SUMMARY: A lame story I wrote after viewing Big Daddy. Spike finds a little surprise while on his way home.
DISCLAIMER: Like Joss or Fox is ever gonna see this… They aren't mine, I'm just messing with them.

SPOILERS: This is one of those 'Spike has a soul, this is what happens', so everything up through Season 6. 

REVIEWS: Please! I'm very new at this! Help me out!

Puella

        Spike's coat fluttered soundlessly behind him as he walked down Revello Drive. After weeks, he'd finally mustered up enough strength and courage to make this trip to see his love. He wasn't going to talk to her…not yet. He was just going to watch her and his Nibblet go about their nightly routines. He reached the front lawn and paused. His hands, buried inside his duster pockets, became fists as he replayed his violent outburst in his head for the hundredth time. It had been almost a year, but the pain and guilt was still fresh. He shook his head and continued to walk to a large tree. He climbed it and settled himself on the lowest branch. A smile crossed his face and his red, tired eyes sparkled as he watched them. He listened in on them.
            "Dawn, you are too young to date!"

            "But Buffy, I'm sixteen! I can handle it!"

            "But-"

            "If you don't, you know I'll just sneak out anyway." Dawn squared her shoulders and crossed her arms. Buffy rolled her eyes.

            "Fine." she sighed.

            "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!" She enveloped her in a hug, then fled up the stairs, brown hair flying. Spike smiled again. The only time he had seen either of them lately was when he snuck in to get his coat back from Buffy's closet. And that was weeks ago.

            Uh oh! She saw me! He thought frantically as she looked out the living room window at his tree. He flattened himself against the tree, trying to make himself less visible. She walked over to the couch and sat down. He sighed. Better being going anyways… He told himself. He jumped down and began making his painful journey home. He reached the rusted gate and opened it with a loud creak. He was ripped out of his thoughts when he noticed a hint of light on the horizon. Sunrise would be soon. He began walking faster. He was just about to open the door to his crypt when he heard a small whimper. He paused, and heard it again. He sighed, stared up at the sky then released the door handle and headed towards the sound. It seemed to be coming from behind a headstone that read 'Barker'. There was a little girl there, crying softly. Her brown head was resting on her arms. He could tell she was no more than seven.

            "Hey luv. You ok?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. She looked up at him slowly. Her bright eyes were wet with tears and wide with fear. She had an adorable turned up nose and thin lips that trembled as she wept.

            "Don't…don't hurt me," She pleaded. Spike took in her bare feet, butterfly embroidered jeans, and pink t-shirt, and felt a twang in his heart.

            "Don't worry. I promise I won't. Now," he said, leaning down to her face, "where do you live?" She blinked a couple of times, trying to take in his form in the fading darkness.

            "O-on St. Clair Avenue. I-in Texas."

            Spike's eyebrows shot up. "Texas?" The little girl nodded. "How'd you get to California?" He looked around. "Where are your parents?"

            "I-," Her chin trembled and large tears began to fall down her face. "I don't know."

            "Ah…hush now, don't cry." He smiled, then glanced at the horizon. Just about a minute left before he would burst into flames. "Tell ya what…how's about we go to my house? It's very near. I've got a bed with your name on it." He held his hand out for her to take. She stared at it, then back at his face.

            "Ok." She said. She stood up slowly and took his hand. Her big eyes never left his face. They walked the few feet to his viney crypt and stepped inside.

            "Uh oh…forgot about the floor." He whisked her off her feet and walked over the hundreds of shards of glass from alcohol bottles he drowned his sorrows in and threw at the wall when he was angry. His big black boots crunched over them.

            "You smell funny." The little girl said and she scrunched up her nose. Spike smiled and sat her on her feet beside the bed – one of the few glassless places on the floor. He pulled the sheets back and she jumped up. He tucked the sheets in around her neck.

            "You know, you really shouldn't talk to strangers."

            "I know, but you looked nice." She smiled. "What's your name?" she asked in the cutest voice he'd ever heard.

            "Spike." She giggled. "Oh, so you think my name is funny, do ya?" he said in mock anger. He began tickling her and she wiggled and laughed. He finally stopped and pulled a chair up next to the bed. "How about you? Do you have a name?"

            "Uh huh. It's Amelia Van Buren." She said proudly.

            "Amelia, huh? That's very pretty. How old are you?"

            "I'm gonna be six in January. How old are you?"

            "Let's just say I'm…very old. I'll clean up a bit while you sleep, k?" Amelia nodded and closed her eyes. Spike smiled again and shook his head. Maybe this soul thing makes me look more trustworthy or something…a while back she probably would've started screaming and running away. He thought.

            He took off his coat but kept his boots on. No way his beautiful white feet were gonna get shredded. He found a broom in the corner and began sweeping all of the glass out the door. Maybe the 'hey, look at me, you can trust me!' look will work on Buffy…