A/N: Oops, forgot to thank a couple of people last time. Mostly Jen (gidgetgirl), A (cloudofcalm), and Mel (Baysidegal). They either a)gave me ideas b)made me write c)gave me a review d) all of the above. So much thankage from me to them.
Oh, and thanks for all the reviews last chapter. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Today was the day, he decided. Tomorrow was the housekeeper's day off, and she had already left for the day. His tutor would come tomorrow, but that would be quickly remedied by a note, in his usual chicken scratch, that he was out with a group of friends.
Walking up to his room, he looked mournfully at the drum set that sat in the corner closest to the window. That would have to stay. Somehow, he would survive without them. Dragging out a duffel bag, he began to throw clothes, whichever smelled clean at least into it. Throwing in his favorite pair of drumsticks, for luck he told himself, he picked up his guitar case and suitcase and was gone.
He was going to America.
"What are we going to do with her?" Gunn asked, meaning the blonde little girl who currently wandered out of the office.
The group looked at one another while Tara made her way out into the hall where a giant fish tank took up the upper half of the whole wall. What looked like thousands of brightly colored fish darted in and out of plants.
"Fishies," she said to herself, grinning, as she pressed up against the fish tank. Her palms were on either side of her face, which was making its mark on the pristine glass. A passing fish blinked at her and then swam away quickly when Tara waved at it.
"Pretty aren't they pet?" Spike crouched down to her level. She looked at the ghost, her attention diverted.
"I like kitties better," she declared. "I always wanted one, but Danny's allergic to him, like shrimp. 'Sides Daddy likes doggies," Tara wrinkled her nose. "I don't like doggies, they're loud and messy, and, and," she stopped for a moment and thought about what she was going to say. "And they smell," she whispered conspiracy. She grinned suddenly. "Do you like kitties?" she asked.
Spike thought for a moment about what he knew about Tara. She was a witch, and a right powerful one. Her father and brother were tyrants and she thought she was part demon until he hit her in the nose. She and Red had also adopted a cat, he thought it's name was Miss Kitty Fantasico, but he wasn't sure. However, it always had been underfoot at the Summer's house. "I like kitties," he felt ridiculous saying it, but he liked see her smile.
"Spike? Do you know where Tara is?" Fred walked out of Wesley's office and saw them together. When Spike saw Fred, he stood up quickly.
"Spike, that's really your name?" Tara asked, scrunching up her nose, making a face.
He looked down upon the little girl, "What's that to you, ankle biter?" He raised his eyebrow, and tried not to smile.
"Nothing Mr. Spike," Tara said innocently, eyes wide. "It's cool!" her head bobbed up and down quickly.
Spike grimaced slightly as he heard the mister tacked onto his name, but brightened instantly when Glinda, the mini witch, complimented him. "Hear that Fred, I'm cool."
Fred blinked. Spike sounded proud of himself? Shaking her head, she the scientist grabbed Tara's hand and led her into Wesley's office. When the little girl saw all eyes on her, she hid behind Spike. Ever so often, she would peer out from behind him.
"Tara, Tara Maclay," Angel muttered to himself. Then he got it. "That's Willow's girlfriend?" he asked.
Spike shot him a look, "Bravo Peaches," he smirked.
"Yes, that would be Tara Maclay, deceased, formerly Willow Rosenburg's girlfriend," Eve, dressed in the usual skirt and dress top walked into Wesley's office. "I have to hand it to you," she looked at Angel, "a couple of mispronounced words and voila, you have one of the most powerful witches in the last decade at your fingertips in the form of a four year old child," she smirked at Angel, "Bravo," she said.
"So my spell did not backfire?" Wesley asked from behind his desk.
"No, a few mispronounced
words and Angel folded time, bringing her here," Eve explained sauntering
over to Wesley's desk and sat down. "So what are you going to do about
it?" She asked.
He looked at the building and sighed. The nine hours on the plane were monotonous, and it was only broken up by the one-hour layover in New York. Buzzing into the front desk, he made sure to make his eyes wide and innocent.
"Hello, I'm looking for Wesley Whydam-Pryce," he said as the security guard came and opened the door.
"Apartment 2A," the man said gruffly and he hurried past the man and into the elevator.
When he reached the apartment's
door he stood back and looked at it. Then reaching up, he searched the
door jam until he found a key. Grabbing it, he stuffed it into the lock.
It swung open. "Jackpot," he whispered to himself as he dragged his two
bags in.
Honestly, Angel did not know how he got roped into do this. One minute he was free to do what he liked after everyone went home for the night, and now he was responsible for a blonde four-year-old. However, she was a cute blonde four-year-old.
"Tell me a story," Tara said as she sat on Angel's bed, one of his t-shirts hung off her, making her look even smaller than she already was. He made a mental note to himself to have Harmony have someone get the little girl some clothes of her own.
"Um…okay," Angel said awkwardly as he sat down next to Tara. "There once was a little girl called Red Riding Hood…."
"Oh come on man, can't you think up something better than that?" Spike appeared and sat down on Tara's other side.
Angel glared over Tara's head, "Fine then, you tell her a story."
Spike nodded, "Right then." He looked at Tara. "The bed time story I'm going to tell you is not the socially oppressing one that Peaches was going to tell you," Spike composed to himself, "Instead, I'm going to tell you a story where everyone has social status they deserve."
Tara blinked, but said nothing.
"Right then," Spike said.
"There once was a young person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her
mother on the edge of a large wood. One day her mother asked her to take
a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother's house—not
because this was womyn's work, mind you, but because the deed was generous
and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother
was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health
and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult…."
Wesley walked into his apartment building and with the customary nod to the security guard, he made his way to the stairs. Walking up one floor, Wesley ambled down the hall until he reached his own apartment. Idly he wondered why he let himself get wrapped up in so many things. Jamming the key into the lock, with one turn to the doorknob, the door swung open.
He stopped, and stared into
the living room. "Andy?"
"He is here, on our soil. The Exalted One!" a mouse brown haired vampire named Dimitri stoop upon a dais made of broken old wooden crates. He and a crowd made up of about six other vampires were in an abandoned warehouse in Nevada.
"Where is he? Where is the one who saw the great beyond? Where is the one who saw our home?" Another vampire called out, this one a flaxen haired and woman with a large chest by the name Delia.
"The City of Angels," Dimitri called out, looking at each and every of the vampires, including Delia and the other five that stood slightly below him.
"But that's the City of the Souled one, the Defiled One!" This time, a male vampire named Antonio called out, his voice a hiss.
Dimitri held his head high, composing himself. "And the Exalted One shall triumph over the Defiled One. That is how it is written, and that is how it shall be!"
Question for y'all. Short and sweet chapters every couple days, or longer and fuller chapters every week or so? Thanks for the reviews again.