Willy the Kid.
Key.
Sentences/ wordsthat are bold,and are in italics, are direct thoughts .
Random italic words in a sentence are emphasis.
"Italics with speech marks" signify that what is being said within the speech marks is some distance away.
Bold is Onomatopoeia.
A/N- Angel etc will cross over- just wait. Another one of my previous only- fics- enjoy
(By the way, Spike's age is worked out from season 4 episode 9 'The Initiative' where Spike says he's 126. This doesn't work either way you look at it though, one way- he's been a vampire for 126 years, so it counts it since 1880, and his human years weren't added- unfortunately, that doesn't work, as 1880 to 2000 is only 120 years. But, if you look at it as if it's his entire age, Spike would have had to be turned when he was 6, which clearly he wasn't. So, instead of making assumptions with how old he is and try to work it out (I always feel that Spike was turned when he was 24/25, but I dunno), I'll just go along with what it says in 'The Initiative'.)
Disclaimer- my god these are monotonous- like a power chant. I own nothing. I own
nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing…
Chapter 1- The Kid.
"I did it my- way!" Spike screamed along to the song, throwing his empty beer bottle
at the wall in imitation of the drums in the music. When the song had ended, he sunk
into the sofa and closed his eyes, remembering back to Buffy's birthday party.
He grinned as the image of Tara's face when she found them together, came into his mind. She had been pretty decent though, Willow's girl. No direct saying of anything to anyone, just mentioning of cramp.
His thoughts went back to Buffy. God she was young- just twenty-one. He was ancient compared to her- one-hundred-and-twenty-seven. (He hasn't had his birthday yet.) He'd been a vampire for most of that, having been turned when he was only four years older than Buffy was now.
Spike knew that it was wrong for them to see each other: he was a vampire; she was a slayer- it was against the rules of the game.
Deciding to see if he would meet her while out on patrol, Spike left his crypt.
After walking for an hour, Spike popped into Willy's bar and ordered a whisky, not seeing that the bartender sprinkled some powder into his drink.
Just before dawn, and several drinks later, Spike made his way back to where he lived, and collapsed on his bed.
Later.
Buffy shoved Spike's door open. She needed information, and fast. There was a rumour that some new demon was in town, and meant to rally forces to defeat the slayer.
"Spike?" She looked around, not seeing him. "Spike? Where are you?"
"Buffy?" Buffy jumped at the small, squeaky voice, so unlike Spike's soothing deep tones, that she wasn't sure it was actually him that had answered.
Buffy headed to where Spike's trench coat was slung onto the bed. "Spike?"
She watched, wide-eyed as the coat was flung aside, revealing Spike. But not grown-up vampire Spike; baby-human Spike. Well, a two-year-old baby.
The petite slayer melted as she studied him. He was gorgeous! Huge bright blue eyes and masses of wispy curly blond hair, which made Buffy think that his hair must have darkened, as he grew older. And his hands! Such cute pudgy things with dimples and miniature fingernails.
She opened her mouth to say something, when Spike fixed her with a glare.
"Ooh, that's sooo cute!" She grinned as he scowled even more.
"Can we just see why Spike little?" Spike said, very articulate for a two-year old.
Buffy stopped smiling and started to think seriously. Why would people have done this to Spike? What was to gain from it? Well, except for a very cute little boy and no strong vampire ally for the Slayer.
"Come on." Buffy picked him up. "We're going to my house. There's a Scooby meeting, maybe Giles or Willow can figure things out."
What did you think? Let me know.
