I don't own AtS or BTVS. I would pay a million bazillion dollars for them, but seeing as how I don't get my paycheck 'til Monday and it won't be half that much, I'll have to pass on the opportunity. I don't own most of the characters in this story, but it seems that I may be killing the ones I don own off, one by one. (I suppose, in that light, it's a good thing I don't own the other characters, eh?) Joss Whedon is the man and I am just... a women? Hmm... I don't think that Politically Correct Americanites would appreciate that sentiment, so I'll just pretend I didn't really think it. Anyway, that seems to be a good enough disclaimer and I think you all get the picture. So, I guess we'll just get...

On with the show.

::Carpe Diem- Tie Your Mother Down::

They found Lindsey, fifteen minutes later, in the alley, leaning over Amelie's unmoving form. Her gun was lying, at her side, and she was sprawled out, on her stomach, her skirt hitched up around her thighs. Lindsey sneered down at her. "She passed out, the moment she stumbled off of the fire escape. I didn't get the chance to knock her out. She just toppled over, face first."

Spike limped up to Lindsey's side and sniffed the air. "I'm no doctor, but I wouldn't be surprised if we found out she had overdosed."

Angel stood back in the darker shadows, Missy cradled against his chest. "Maybe we should get both women to the hospital." Angel hugged Missy to him, when she began to tremble, violently. "We need to go, now." Angel looked down at the woman in his arms and shook his head. What had brought her so far down this path?

Spike looked over at his sire and shook his head. "Angel, she is still the bad guy. Not saying we need to let her die or anything, but you really shouldn't be looking at her in that 'let's get redeemed together' sort of way." Spike grinned and hobbled over to the older vampire. "Having one pupil isn't enough, old man?"

Angel sighed and turned toward the street, where the car was parked, nearby. "Lindsey, go get the car and bring it back here. We'll load up the women and make our way down to the hospital. On the way, we'll call the police and say that there has been a shooting. Then, we'll head on, back to the hotel. There won't be any need to just sit around, while they pump her stomach and she gets arrested."

Spike pulled Angel's car keys out of his pocket and something fell out, along side. A piece of folded paper fell to the ground. Spike handed Lindsey the keys and bent down to pick up the paper. He shooed Lindsey away and waited until the man turned the corner, heading out into the sunny streets. "What's this?" Spike unfolded the paper, even as Angel started to protest. The paper happened to be a picture. It was a drawing... of him. It was pretty recent and it was obvious who the artist was. "Pretty." Spike just had to comment. That's what Spike did. He was a commenter. "My hair's kinda' froofy, though."



"Yes, it is." Angel muttered. "Give that back."

"I'm not done lookin', Mr. Grabby Hands. Or, at least, you would be, if your hands weren't so occupied, with the holding of princess, there." Spike turned the picture sideways and upside down. "Which side do you think is the better, of my two sides?"

"Your right side." Angel didn't even hesitate. "Hand it over, boy."

"Eh, eh, eh..." Spike tutted. "No pulling of sire shit, right now, Angel." Spike turned the picture, back the way it was supposed to be. "It is rather good, in all honesty."

"Thank you." Angel looked down the alleyway and wondered what was taking Lindsey so long. He had been a speed demon, on the way over to the apartment building. Why was it, when he actually needed him, Lindsey wasn't there?

Spike hummed, in appreciation. "Well, you did have a wonderful model. Where ever did you find such a lovely creature?" Spike cooed. He felt rather pleased, with how embarrassed Angel seemed to be.

Angel growled. "In the scummy streets, of London." Angel sighed, when he saw the wry amusement, written across Spike's face. "Can I have it back, now?"

Spike looked thoughtful, for a moment. "Nope." Spike shook his head, as he folded the paper up and shoved it in his back pocket. "You can try stealing it back from me..." Spike quirked a brow at his sire and grinned. "...but you may lose a hand."

Angel grunted and shook his head. He muttered something that sounded an awful lot like 'stew pig', which only succeeded in making Spike burst out laughing. "I'll get it back, you know."

Spike grabbed his own backside and grinned. "I'll carry it with me, always."

Angel lowered his brows and sniffed. "Jerk."

"I'm gonna' make a song about you, Angelus. It's gonna' go something like..." Spike started bopping his head and hummed a very random sounding punk song. He started singing in estranged bursts. "Obsessive Mr. Hoodwink... ba dum, da da dum... Don't look at me so strangely... ba dum, da da dum... If I give you a cookie, will you stop starring at my neck?" Spike banged his head, softly, and grinned. His fangs seemed to glisten in the half-light.

Angel had to laugh. It was really against his nature to humor such insubordination, but the truth was... it was funny. Spike was just messing with him. He wanted to get his mind off of the dying girl, who was bleeding all over his shirt... Well, things were suddenly not funny, anymore. "Angel leaned his back against the wall, next to him. "Lindsey is being very slow."

"Hey, that's a great idea, Angel. Let's play the states-the-obvious game. Well, for your first turn you get ten points, cause that was *really* obvious comment. Me next... Your hair is getting shaggy." Spike grinned, pleased with himself. Angel looked just about ready to drop Missy and run his fingers through his hair. "I get fifteen points. Your turn."

Angel shook his head and grunted. "You're so stupid."

Spike frowned. "Well, come on, Angel. You gotta', at least, try. It's no fun, unless you try to come up with a creative one that's still obvious. 'You're stupid' and 'you're an ass' is child's play."

Angel tossed Spike a look that resembled elitist pride. "If I ever heard my child calling someone an ass, I'd smack them across the mouth."

Spike grinned. "You're such an ass, Angel."

Angel frowned. What had he said? He looked up, in confusion, at his... childe. Angel chuckled. Okay, he got the joke. Ha ha. "How very ultra-witty of you, Spike."

"Ah... you get twenty points. That statement was obvious and complimentary." Spike slumped down on the wall and hissed. "I bet that I would be pissing blood, if I pissed."

"Do you take in enough liquids to do that?" Angel threw his childe a look and sneered.

Spike shook his head. "I used to, but tea isn't really a favorite of mine, right now. I'm going for the taste of maple syrup and all of its goodness and it isn't liquid enough to be turned into..." Spike shrugged. "...liquid."

Angel nodded. "I was wondering, cause I haven't been keeping your bathroom stocked with toiletries."

Spike cut a glance at Angel and shook his head. "You just shake it, Angel. It hasn't been so long, that you've forgotten, has it?"

Angel grinned. "No, it hasn't. I remember that, well enough."

Spike shrugged. "Anyway, I would just go in the shower."

Angel sneered. "Ugh..."

Spike laughed and gave a slight cough/sigh. "The pipes all run to the same place, ya' know."

Angel grunted. "Still..."

There was a squeal, from the far end of the alleyway, which made both Angel and Spike bolt upright and take notice. Lindsey pulled into the darkened alley and pulled to an abrupt stop. He put the large car into park and swung the door open. Lindsey stepped out of the car and leaned on the open door. "Well, come on. We need to get them..." Lindsey pointed at the two women. "...to the hospital."

Spike grinned over at Angel, as he bent down to lift up Amelie. "I'd say he gets a whole forty points, for that one."

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"The doctors didn't see much hope for her." Lindsey tried explaining to the child. "She may go..." Lindsey gulped and bit back a laugh. "...to be with the angels, soon."

Andy nodded his head, thoughtfully. "How did she get so sick? She was fine, the last time I saw her." Andy sniffled. "That was a long time ago." The little boy balled up his fists and rubbed the little droplets of tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. "Can I see her before she leaves us?"

Lindsey thought for a moment and nodded. "I'll try to take you to see her, as soon as the sun rises tomorrow. Is that okay?"

Andy nodded. "I don't really want to know why she's died so fast, do I Uncle Lindsey?"

Lindsey mentally cursed his ex-wife. "I haven't done a good job of explaining everything to you, have I?"

Andy nodded. "Mommy is sick and Missy might die."

"Yes." Lindsey shook his head. "I don't think you got the, me being your daddy part, though."

Andy sighed. "You can't be my daddy, if you are my uncle. That's just silly."

"Not in some parts of Alabama and Arkansas." Spike piped in.

Lindsey shot Spike a look, which would have caused most men to whither, in response. "Why did I even let you stay in here? I shouldn't have believed you, when you said you wouldn't interfere."'

Spike looked abashed. "What interfering? Look at me and watch all of the non-interfering that I'm doing! I just want to give you a few pointers in talking to kiddies." Spike sat back in his seat and sighed. He was enjoying the heat pack that Fred had made up for him, a couple of minutes after he had come in, sat down, and downed a cold bag of blood. It rested at the base of his spine, where it wasn't really needed most. He just couldn't figure out how to keep it on his ribcage, without having to hold it there. He had put the thought across to Connor about inventing some sort of sling, for heat/ice packs. Connor had jumped up and ran to his room. The boy was a genius, he thought proudly.

"Giving advice is just a softer form of interfering." Lindsey grunted.

Spike nodded. "Well, then you need a little interference, cause you suck at talking to children." Spike grinned. "I bet you haven't changed a nappy, in your entire life."

"Oh, and you have?" Lindsey asked, only half-interested.

Spike shrugged. "You would be surprised at some of the things that I've done."

"Doubt it." Lindsey pouted, as he leaned on his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

Andy watched Lindsey frown and sighed, a little kid sigh. "It's okay, Uncle Daddy. I still love you, even if you can't change out napkins."

Spike tried not to laugh loud enough to cause the child distress. It was just so funny. "Well, 'Uncle Daddy'... Do you want my help, now?"

Lindsey nodded, solemnly, and stared into those large Carmel eyes that watched Spike so intently.

Spike was looking at the boy, with a big, goofy grin stretched across his face. "Hi, kid, I'm Spike." Spike stuck out his hand and the boy took it, with a grin of his own. They shook hands and Spike let the little, sticky grasp go, with a groan. "You kids are so gross. Watcha' been eatin'?"

Andy looked down at his fingers and shrugged. He licked the palm of his hand, experimentally, and grinned. "Oh, that was a grape 'plopsicle'. Cordelia gave me one. She said I could have anything I wanted, as long as Katie said it was all right. I like her."

"Cordelia?" Spike asked. "She's an all right bird, I guess."

Andy shook his head so hard that his hair swayed side to side, across his eyes. "No. I mean... she is nice." Andy confirmed the statement, with a nod from Spike. "Katie is too, though. Nice, I mean." Andy thought, for a second. "She isn't pretty, though."

"She isn't?" Lindsey asked, the confusion evident, in his voice.

Andy sighed. "Nope." He wiped his nose, which had started running, with the back of his palm. This motion had caused Spike to cringe. Andy noticed. "What?" He wiped his hand on his jeans and shrugged. "It's all better, now."

Spike nodded. Yeah, and he was the queen of Scotland. He had shaken hands with that grimy little munchkin and he was two seconds away from running to the bathroom and cleansing his undead skin.

"Your kinda' silly." Andy sighed and looked back at Lindsey. "Katie is sexy."

Lindsey's mouth dropped open. "She's... what?"

"She's the kind that guys wanna' stick." Andy smiled up at Lindsey, innocently. "What does that mean?" He bit his lip and let out a sigh. "Stick what?"

Lindsey pointed at Spike, who was laughing uncontrollably, at this time, and then glanced back down at the confused little boy. "Where did you here that?"

"Wesley and Gunn were laughing and making the girls squeal, earlier, while I was sitting on the counter, eating my 'plopsicle'. Is it not funny?" Andy looked over at Spike and back at Lindsey. "Spike thinks it's funny. He hasn't stopped laughing, yet."

"It's not funny, when little boys say it." Lindsey muttered.

Spike shook his head. "It's funnier, when little boys say it." Spike interjected.

Lindsey bent down and picked up Andy, tossing him over his shoulder. The little boy giggled, wildly, and Lindsey shot Spike a neat little bird, with his free hand. "Thanks for all of that non-interfering, Spike. I really appreciate it." Lindsey turned around and opened the door of the bedroom, they had been occupying, making his way out into the hall.

Spike leaned further into his chair and sighed. He tried to act like he felt ashamed, but realized there was nobody to pretend for. He burst out laughing and gasped at the pain it caused, in his sides. He grabbed his side and laughed some more.

Angel walked into he room and saw Spike bent double, in the chair next to his bed, gasping and gripping at his ribs. "What's so funny, Spike?"

Spike looked up at his sire and shook his head. "Gunn and Wesley are gonna' get the crap wussy slapped out of them."

Angel nodded and gnawed on his bottom lip. "That's nice."

TBC

-Kinda' short chapter I know, but I got it out fast. Now, be a bunch of darlings and review!-

--The subtitle was Tie Your Mother Down, which is a song by Queen. They are the best band ever. Just so you know, if you didn't already.--