Author's Notes: I realize that this is completely out of whack. I'll repeat that it's not based in any particular season and I'll most likely just use the characters as I want to use them and not put them in according to the series timeline. Haha. It's a pretty awful story anyway. I just wanted to write something. Enjoy.

Little Bad

Chapter Two – Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

"Bedtime."

Angel's voice was low and laced with a fierce determination. In his 240 some years of existing, the vampire had met few that dared to challenge this tone. One of those few went by the name of Spike.

"NO."

The shrunken vampire in question pouted and stamped his foot in defiance. His pale upper lip was streaked with blood in a fashion craze known as the "bloodstache"…okay, so it wasn't really a fashion craze. It was just a craze. A craze of blood-drinking goodness.

"It's DAWN, Spike. We're nocturnal. Dawn is synonymous with bedtime."

Spike yawned, favoring his grandsire with a thoughtful look. "What's in it for me?"

Angel gaped at him. "You get to SLEEP. You LOVE to sleep, remember?"

Spike shrugged and rubbed his tired eyes with two little hands. " Its more fun to watch you suffer, Sire."

"At the expense of your own comfort?" Angel asked pointedly, taking in his childe's drooping eyelids.

"Sod off."

"Don't you take that tone with ME, young man."

"How bleedin' hilarious of you, Angel." The little vampire struggled to contain another particularly large yawn, but failed miserably. "Bloody Hell." He extended his arms out to the larger vampire.

Angel blinked.

Spike blinked back, making grabbing motions with his hands.

"Okay, I give. What's going on?"

"Carry me, you soddin' wanker. I'm bloody well too tired to walk and if I'm going to be three bleedin' inches tall, you can at least attend to your fatherly sire duties and carry me to my bed."

Angel raised an eyebrow.

Spike stomped his foot in impatience, balling his little hands into little fists. "Well?"

"What's the magic word?"

"Oh. How thoughtless of me. Carry me to my bed, NANCYBOY."

Angel decided to kill the cow himself.

"Well, he's acting normal. Like himself. Same vocabulary, same attitude…same Spike." Angel stopped pacing to look up at his colleagues. "Although there were those temper tantrums earlier…those were massive and rather odd. And he cried like I've never seen him cry before."

"So…our only suspect of magical misdeed is a substance you refer to as evil milk?" Wesley asked doubtfully.

The vampire nodded his head vigorously. "It's all that milk's fault. If you'll look in the direction of Cordelia, you will see Exhibit A." Cordelia smiled brightly and held up a small beaker containing an even smaller amount of milk. "This is the milk in question, gathered from the kitchen floor approximately 20 minutes after I discovered Exhibit B unconscious and fun-sized."

"I think you're taking the title of private investigator WAY too seriously, Exhibit-I'm-A-Private-Investigator-Listen-To-Me-Call-Things-Exhibits," Cordelia interjected.

"So where is Exhibit B now?" Fred inquired curiously.

"Sleeping. I put him to bed a few hours ago."

"And he wasn't acting childish in the least?"

A scream cut off Angel's answer and the three of them stared open-mouthed as the miniature-Spike dashed into the room and grabbed his grandsire's leg, hugging it tightly to his little body.

"Spike?"

"Green," Spike whimpered, into the older vampire's pant leg. "Green sing."

"Green sing?" Wesley echoed.

"Spike?" Angel asked again, gently prying the little boy from his leg and lifting him into his arms. "What's wrong?"

Little Spike latched onto Angel's neck, terrified. "Don't let 'em get me, Da."

Da? He's calling me Da? What the-

The sound of a throat clearing brought Angel out of his thoughts and the four turned to see their good buddy Lorne standing in the doorway. Spike let out a fretful whimper and wrapped his little legs around Angel's torso.

"I scared the little sweet pea," the demon admitted. "He looked so peaceful in his bed and I started singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star-" Spike began to sob into Angel's shoulder. "…and he just screamed and ran as if it was the scariest thing he'd ever heard."

"Spike, Lorne's our friend." Angel tried.

"Bloody twinkling stars," Spike muttered, so traumatized that he was trembling.

"Spike-"

"You never know what they're up to, you know," Spike cut him off, laying his little head on his grandsire's shoulder. "They twinkle this way an' that, but you never REALLY know."

"Well, gee…what's YOUR childhood trauma?" Cordelia wondered aloud.

"Maybe we should put you back to bed." Angel suggested.

"No. Don't wanna go back bed," the little vampire protested. "Wanna stay with you."

The five "adults" stood in a rather stunned silence at Spike's heartwarming proclamation, exchanging dumbfounded expressions.

"Spike, how are you feeling?" Wesley asked with a kind of forced kindness to his tone. Wide blue eyes were raised to acknowledge him, but after meeting the former Watcher's gaze, Spike ducked his face back into his grandsire's shoulder, shaking his head.

"Aren't you going to answer Wesley?" Angel asked softly.

"No."

"Why not?"

Spike remained silent.

"OH! I know!" Cordelia exclaimed, hit by a sudden revelation. "Does he resemble a twinkling star?"

Angel wrapped his arms more securely around his childe when he felt the shaking start up, glaring at Cordelia for her insensitivity.

"What's the matter, Will?" Angel murmured into the soft hair. "Tell Sire what's wrong."

"Can't 'member," Spike whispered. "Can't 'member what to think."

"You can't remember what to think?" Angel asked, puzzled. Spike shook his head. "Wanna go back to bed?" Another shake of the head. "Are you positive?" Nod. "Hungry?"

"Yeah."

"How about some warm milk?" Fred offered. "Always used to put me to sleep when I was-"

"No milk!" Spike cried.

"Oh," the Texan girl smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I forgot that the milk was the source of evil."

"Yeah…what's with that anyway?" Cordelia asked.

"Milk?" Lorne said suddenly. "Who went out and bought milk?"

Angel shrugged. "It was in the refrigerator. Spike was making some sort of milkshake involving blood. Called it a bloodshake." He grinned and fondly patted his childe's back. "Imaginative little sport, eh?"

"By milk do you mean the white substance in the refrigerator in the container clearly marked 'NOT MILK'?"

Spike looked up from Angel's shoulder.

"Uh oh."

TBC….