Chapter 3
Various Sleeping Arrangements
A/N: I don't know what everyone calls 'flannels' (the little miniature towels one gets wet and soapy and uses to wash with.) I know sometimes they're called 'wash-cloths', or 'washers'. Heh, I puzzled over it for ages, but I went with flannels, 'cause that's what we call them. P
Finally, for all those fans of pointless cuteness (like me), here is drum roll…A chapter of pointless cuteness! Yay!
Angel opened the door to his apartment. There was warm light spilling from the hall, and faint sounds of splashing and singing from the hall. The whole apartment hummed with comforting, domestic warmth, and for a moment, Angel felt like announcing, "Honey, I'm home." Instead, he walked hesitantly towards the bathroom. "Fred?" he called as he got closer and the singing got louder.
She was kneeling beside the bath tub, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, jeans splattered with water. The Texan scientist was holding Spike's wrist and washing under his arms with the flannel. "Splish-Splash I was taking a bath," She sang, as Spike giggled, "All on a Saturday night."
"Rub-a-dub I was splashing in the tub," Spike sang nervously.
Fred laughed, "You're catching on fast Spike."
Angel nocked on the door, "Hi," He said, smiling despite himself.
Fred gave him a cheery smile back, "Hey, we're just rub-a-dub splashing in the tub!"
"I can see that." Angel said, "Um, Fred, can I have a word?"
Fred nodded and handed Spike the flannel, "I'll leave you in charge Cap'n. Be sure to keep things ship-shape." Spike saluted her gravely and began to construct a white bubble bath beared on his chin.
Fred and Angel walked into the lounge room and sat down at the table. He looked away for a long while, then turned determinedly to face her. "I'm going to look after him." He said.
Fred furrowed her brow. "Really? I mean, I'm sure you can, but you've got a lot on, we've all got a lot on, but you've got a lot a lot, and I really like Spike, well little Spike..." She looked up from her fidgeting thumbs to see Angel starring at her. He looked a little confused, and a little pleading, she knew she couldn't win. "You... really want to do this don't you?" she sighed.
Angel nodded, "I... I let Spike go see this Doctor guy, and ..." He trailed off with a sigh, "Spike... he's like this because of me. Not little, I mean, he's... a vampire because of me. When he was sired, I looked after him, he was almost like my son. I was responsible for him, just like any parent. I had to teach him to feed, and to hunt, and how to survive. I taught him to kill, to maim, to torture. I taught him to be evil. And now- I can do it again, play the father, but this time, I'll do it right." Angel looked earnestly at Fred, hoping he'd convinced her.
Fred gave him a considered look, "Angel, I don't believe you. There's something you're not saying. But if you want to do this, you can."
"Thanks" Angel sighed.
"But, if you wanted to tell me, I'd listen. You can trust me you know."
Angel shook his head, "Fred, there isn't... it's not-"
He was interrupted by a call from the bathroom, "I'm ready to get out!"
"Hold that thought," Fred said, skipping toward the bathroom, "I forgot little kids can't get out of the bath themselves!" She giggled.
Angel didn't wait long, as almost immediately there was a nock at the door. It was Harmony, holding a little bundle of clothes in small sizes. "Hey, I brought some clothes for Spike," She said, craning her neck to see if the child was in view.
"Thanks Harmony," Angel muttered, shutting the door abruptly in Harmony's face. He rifled through the clothes, tiny boxers, tiny pants, tiny shirts with Thomas the Tank Engine on them. There where some tiny blue and grey pj's. He threw the other clothes on the couch and headed towards the bathroom.
"And you gotta dry the water from your ears," Fred was saying, as she towelled Spike dry, "or you get little mini oceans in there." Spike gasped. "It's true! And then one day, when you're not expecting it, you'll get this funny tickling in your ear," she tickled the side of Spike's ear, "A little tickle, an itch, like something's wiggling around in there." Spike was laughing, and squirming away from Fred, but she continued, "Then Splosh! Out comes a fish!" Spike laughed again as Fred went back to towelling his hair. "So you must always dry out you're ears. Unless of corse, you wanna grow fish in there."
Spike leaned in close to Fred as she wrapped the towel tighter around him, patting his hair, "Fred," He began, "If I'm Spike, who are you?"
She laughed, "You just said it! I'm Fred!"
Spike shook his head, "Mmm... but I mean... are you...are you my mum?"
Fred stopped towelling Spike's hair. Her breath caught in her throat. "Uh...no, no. I'm... I'm not your mom." Spike looked away, but weather he was embarrassed or upset, she couldn't tell. "But... if you like, I can be your Aunty."
Spike looked up hopefully, "Aun'y Fred?" He tested the word, "Yeah ok, Aun'y Fred."
Fred ruffled his blond hair with the towel again, "But if I'm going to be your Aunt, you gotta promise me something."
"What?"
"You won't gel you're hair."
Spike looked up in confusion, "Why would I put Jelly in my hair?" he asked. "Jelly is for eating!"
"You are so right." Fred laughed, "What was I thinking?"
Angel, who had been watching silently from the doorway, cleared his throat. Fred looked up, "Oh hey, we were just finishing up in here."
"Aun'y Fred got me clean and dry!" Spike announced.
Angel nodded curtly, "Good, get dressed." He tossed the pj's at Spike, "Fred has to leave now. You'll stay with me tonight."
Spike looked hurt and confused. The spiky haired man, Angel, was angry again, and now his new friend Aun'y Fred was leaving. He felt Fred's arms encircle him. She gave him a comforting squeeze. "C'mon, let's see if these clothes fit."
After some fumbling with the lock, and a good shove at the sticky door frame, Fred opened the door to her apartment, to find it comfortingly lived in. Clothes, books and knickknacks covered the living room and the rooms beyond, despite Fred's best attempts at order. There was also the occasional trace of someone other than Fred inhabiting the house. Wesley's manuscripts and the occasional item of clothing where also clearly evident amongst the clutter. There was a small plain table in the back room, near the kitchenette. Everything in the apartment looked a little thin but not bare and there was so much clutter the thin furniture went mostly unnoticed. The TV was on, casting a white florescent light across the apartment, and slouched morosely in front of the set was Wes.
"What are you watching?" Fred asked.
Wes kept his eyes focused on the TV as he waved her a one handed greeting, "I'm not, there's nothing on."
"There never is," Fred laughed, kissing his hair on her way to the kitchen.
"What can I say, I'm an optimist," Wes said. He turned off the TV and followed her into the kitchen.
She pulled out two blue desert bowls, and filled them with several large scoops of peppermint choc-chip ice cream. Before she passed Wesley's bowl over, she took a bite for herself, then took her own bowl. Wesley smiled, even when she had her own, she wanted more. "So," Fred said, taking another scoop of ice-cream, "I, uh, thought you might have gone home, to your house."
Wes gave her a sneaky smile, "Do you want me to go home?" He said, leaning over the bench towards her.
Fred smiled back, "No."
"Then what's the problem?" he asked.
"There is none," She replied, leaning over to him. The where nose to nose when Fred suddenly pulled away, "Aren't we going to eat our ice cream?"
"Always thinking about food." Wes muttered. He obligingly took the two bowls over to the couch and turned the TV back on. Fred sighed and snuggled into his outstretched arm, tucking her feet beneath her. She felt comfort and exhaustion sneak over her like a blanket, until she could hardly think of anything but falling asleep. Her previous worries completely evaporated. Nothing mattered anymore, just as long as they were here on the couch. Nothing mattered at all.
"What happened with Spike?" Wes ventured after a while.
"Oh," Fred yawned, remembering that there was something that mattered after all, "hmmm, Angel's looking after him. Protective type, Angel."
Wes smiled, "Yes I know. But he's never been that close to Spike, rather the opposite really. Are you sure he's ok with this?"
Fred shrugged, "I offered, but he was adamant. He wanted to look after Spike. I spose he can cope."
"Spike!" Angel groaned. There was silence. He listened a moment longer. There was the sound of shuffling blankets and feet thumping against pillows. Someone was fidgeting around in the next room. "Spike!" Angel called again.
"Sorry..." Came the faint call from the other room.
"Can you go to sleep please?" There was no reply. Perhaps Spike had finally gone to sleep. After a long moment, the shuffling started again, this time accompanied by little squeaks and groans. Spike was making it plain as possible he was uncomfortable. Angel tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. Throwing the covers off irritably, he stormed into the lounge room.
Spike was lying still and quiet now on the sofa, wrapped in a dark brown duna. Though the couch was modern and square and hardly lent itself to sleeping, it wasn't overly uncomfortable surely. There wasn't any reason for Spike to make such a fuss. "Alright Spike," Angel sighed, "What do you want?"
Spike turned slowly over, feigning tiredness, "A glass of water." He croaked.
Angel grumbled, and got Spike a glass of water. He held it out to Spike, who took it and sipped with half closed eyes. "Now will you sleep?" Spike nodded feebly, and Angel slunk back towards his room. He paused at the door and waited. Minuets passed and there was no sound. Then, a faint mewing, and the fidgeting started again. Angel groaned and stormed back into the lounge room. "What is it?" He demanded, "What do you want? What's wrong?" Spike mumbled something quietly into his blanket. "What?" Angel asked, more calmly this time.
"I... this bed is uncomfortable... can... can I sleep with you?"
Angel sighed heavily, considering. "C'mon then," He said, turning to go back to his room. There was a flurry of blond hair and little feet, as Spike raced past into Angel's room, throwing himself onto the bed and under the covers. Angel slipped in the other side of the bed. He turned the light off, and shrugged the covers over himself. "Alright, now go to sleep." He closed his eyes. Spike shuffled next to him. Wiggling and fidgeting, flipping and kicking. Angel was about to yell at him, when he felt Spike's tiny body fall into his side. Spike snuggled up into him, curling his little arms around Angel's big one, and finally, stopped moving. Angel sighed and hesitantly relaxed. Soon, both vampires were asleep.