Spike felt a sharp pain in his side. "Oof," he grunted, then rolled over. Another jab of pain sliced through his other side. Bloody hell, he thought resentfully. Can't a vampire sleep off a drunk without being nibbled to death by rats?
"Wake up, Evil Undead," a peevish voice said.
Spike opened his eyes blearily, and looked up. There was a woman standing above him, a woman clad in flowing white robes. For one wild moment Spike thought he was seeing an angel. The illusion was shattered by another swift kick.
"Get up," she snapped.
Spike curled into a ball, and whined, "Stop kicking me, Cordelia."
"You ran out on him," Cordelia said. "You coward."
Spike gingerly rose to his feet and moved out of kicking distance. "That's a bit harsh, isn't it"
Cordelia gave him a dirty look. "You left Angel alone to fight the dragon."
"All right, I concede I exercised the better part of valor in that particular instance," Spike said.
Cordelia put her hands on her hips. "Why?" she demanded.
"Because I came to my bloody senses, that's why!" Spike said. "There I was, about to sacrifice my unlife to save the world for the second time in two years, when it occurred to me that perhaps this whole 'let's take out the Circle in a suicide mission' plan of The Big Poof's was, well to put it bluntly, idiotic."
Cordelia gave him another dirty look, but said nothing.
Spike continued. "As I was saying, there I was, standing next to Charlie's rapidly cooling corpse, watching the dragon swoop down, when I had my epiphany. So I hacked my way through the crowd, stole a car, left Los Angeles in rather a hurry, and made my way to Rome."
"H'm," Cordelia snorted. "Anyway, I don't have much time so I'll get right to the point. You need to go to the La Dolce Vita Cemetery as soon as possible."
Having recovered his composure, Spike sneered. "Why should I do that?"
Cordelia smiled sweetly. "Because if you don't, I'll follow you everywhere you go and make your unlife a living hell. Remember, I was called the Biggest Bitch in Sunnydale for a reason."
Spike admitted defeat. It was bad enough being a penniless, orphan vampire. He didn't need a vengeful ex-cheerleader/Higher Power on his case. "Okay, okay," he mumbled. "I'll go there. Any particular reason why?"
Cordelia smirked. "You'll see why once you get there."
La Dolce Vita Cemetery - 2:00 a.m.:
Spike made his way through the ancient burial ground quickly, pausing only to dust a newly risen vamp. Was this why the Cordelia had sent him here? he wondered. As he approached a large crypt, he heard a familiar voice singing a lullaby. It was Drusilla singing to Miss Edith. No, not a lullaby, rather, she was singing a gruesome song about nuns, blood and the full moon set to the tune of a lullaby. Spike grinned. It was good to know that in a fast moving, chaotic world, something's never changed.
Bounding into the crypt, he was surprised to see Drusilla cuddling, not Miss Edith, but a real, live human baby. Spike didn't know which was more shocking, the sight of Dru holding a baby instead of one of her dolls, or the fact she hadn't eaten the infant yet. Rousing from his shock, he said jauntily, "Honey, I'm home."
Drusilla stopped singing. "My little Spoike," she said. "The stars told me you would come to me tonight."
"Er, yes," Spike said. Of course, he thought. Cordelia sent me here to save the brat. "Let me see him, love," Spike said, edging closer to Drusilla. "That's it, let me take him for a moment." Drusilla relinquished the baby.
So small, so tasty, Spike thought, as the child wriggled in his arms. Automatically, he vamped out. Surely the cheerleader won't begrudge me a little taste.
"William! Don't you even think of eating that baby!" Drusilla yelled.
"Furthest thing from my mind, love," Spike lied. Mustn't think about what a juicy little morsel he was, how delicious, how sweet and pure the blood in his little veins would taste. No, he must be strong. He had a soul now. He was a noble champion, a warrior of the light, he didn't eat babies anymore. Besides, if the Slayer ever found out, he'd die a gruesome death.
Spike held the child awkwardly, staring down at his face. There was something eerily familiar about this child, he thought. He'd seen that face before, seen that combination of deep set brown eyes, thick black hair, and decidedly Neanderthal brow, but where? The penny dropped. Bloody Hell! Spike nearly dropped the baby as the shock hit him. Oh the unfairness, he thought. The Big Poof had earned his shanshu after all, whilst he, Spike, who had saved the world as many times as the Poof had, remained a vampire. Unfair.
Spike pushed the negative thoughts away. "Hello Granddad. I didn't think I'd see you again," he said. Angel cooed. Spike put on his game face again. The baby giggled. Spike turned to Drusilla. "Happy as I am to see me grandsire again, what is he doing here?" he asked.
Drusilla favored Spike with one of her crazy smiles. "I took him from that nasty Slayer," she said.
"Yes, I see that," Spike said. "But why?"
"To raise him. The two of us," she said. "You and me and Daddy. We'll be a family again."
It took a moment to sink in. "Raise him as our own?" Spike said. "Are you mad? How are we supposed to take care of a baby?"
Ignoring his dismay, Drusilla twirled several times and said dreamily, "When he's big again, I'll turn him."
Spike felt a chill run down his spine. She means it, he thought. She seriously expects me to put up with The Big Poof, all right, The Little Poof, for the next twenty or so years, feeding him, changing his nappies, teaching him to walk, helping him with his homework, the whole lot only to have him back, big as life and twice as evil, once again supplanting me in her affections. Bloody Hell!
Angel chose that moment to emit a particularly 'fragrant' blast. Spike and Drusilla, both equipped with a super-human sense of smell, gagged at the stench.
"Ew!" Drusilla screamed. "Miss Edith never does that! Bad daddy!"
Spike saw his chance to escape fatherhood. "Pet, it'll be months before he's properly housebroken. Perhaps we should put your plan on hold for a few months, or better yet, a few years," Spike said, waving the noxious cloud away from his face. "Let someone else do the dirty work, as it were."
Drusilla was outraged. "Give up my daddy! Never!" she cried. Angel let loose an ear-splitting wail, accompanied by another toxic cloud. "Well, you might have a point," she conceded.
If he were still capable, Spike would have breathed a sigh of relief. Always one to seize the moment, he tucked Angel under one arm and quickly made his way to Buffy's apartment. Spotting the open window, he leapt onto the convenient balcony, crept softly into the baby's bedroom, and placed Angel in the bassinet. Problem solved, he thought smugly. Good thing Dru disabled the mystical barrier.
As he turned to leave, every light in the apartment turned on, and he found himself surrounded by The Niblet, Percy's father, that poncy Andrew, and a very pissed-off slayer, each one wielding a weapon. "Oh bloody hell!" Spike said. "Could this night get any worse?"
Andrew was devastated. "Eating a baby! Oh how you have disappointed me!" he said, nearly in tears. "I believed you were a warrior of the light, my Gandalf, my Yoda. But no! Once again you turned to the dark side of the force, you, you, Vader!"
"I didn't harm the Little Poof. Check for yourself, you twit," Spike said, edging slowly towards the window.
Roger aimed a lethal-looking crossbow directly at his heart. "If you didn't mean to harm the child, why were you stealing him?"
"I wasn't stealing him, I was putting him back," Spike said. "Dawnie, you believe me, don't you?" he said desperately. Dawn glared at him.
"Enough talking, more killing," Buffy said. "Get him!"