"So, I think maybe Dawn's doing better," Buffy said hopefully as she walked beside her husband through the abnormally large sewers that ran everywhere under Sunnydale. Of course, the place had been built as a paradise for demons. "You know, with the going to Janice's and all?"

"Maybe," Angel replied, shining his flashlight into the shadows. He stopped to sniff the air and coughed. "I'm not getting anything through the smell. Somehow the stench was easier to ignore when I was a vampire."

Buffy fingered the handle of the battle-axe she carried. It was perfectly balanced for her; anyone else would have trouble wielding it. Angel had his favorite sword slung over his shoulder. "We'll find it," she said confidently. "It's nocturnal, so it won't leave the sewers."

"Well, the sewers are a big place," Angel pointed out. "It could take us days to find this thing."

"Not if you pick up its scent. So keep sniffing."

Angel pulled a face. "What am I, a bloodhound?"

Buffy didn't reply. She guessed there was no good time to tell Angel, so it might as well be now. "Giles thinks Caddie was born to fulfill a prophecy."

Angel stopped in his tracks and looked down at her. "Bullshit," he said flatly, startling Buffy with his strong language.

"That's my feelings about it, too," she said earnestly. "But she fits the prophecy like a glove. Supposedly she'd going to call forth the sun to vanquish the darkness or some such."

"No, she's not," Angel insisted. "She's going to have as normal a life as we can give her. She won't be a slave to destiny."

Buffy sighed. "Can we really stop it? I mean, I don't want her to be this child of prophecy Giles thinks she is, but can we keep it form happening if that's what's meant to be?"

"You're living proof that prophecies can be changed, beloved," Angel reminded her. "We'll find a way."

*****

Dawn jumped down from the ladder to the crypt floor, careful not to jar her backpack too much. "Spike?" she called. "You still here?"

"Tried running. Didn't get far. Light hurts my eyes, you know. Am I drunk? No, but I wish I was."

She startled and spun around. Spike was sitting in a different part of the crypt, staring intently at the ceiling. Dawn approached cautiously. "I—um—I brought you something to eat," she said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out the bag of pig's blood.

Spike sighed mournfully. "She used to see the stars even when she was indoors. I've been trying all day but I only see the ceiling. Pity, seeing as how I'm as crazy as she was. Only I'm not. She was filled up all with darkness and I've got the spark. It's the spark that's driving me mad, always burning. Does nothing but burn. Can't…get…it…out."

Dawn walked over to him and gasped. The front of his shirt was shredded and long, bloody lines gouged his chest over his heart. "Spike, what did you do?" she asked, putting the blood to the side and reaching out to touch the wounds. He slapped her hand away.

"Doesn't hurt. Not as much as it hurt them." He looked sharply at her face, his ice blue eyes suddenly lucid. "Do you hate me, little bit? Do you hate me for what I was?"

She shook her head fiercely. "Never, Spike. I like you for what you are. You're my friend." She picked the blood back up and held it out to him. "You have to eat."

He dropped his gaze to the bag of gelatinous liquid, his eyes tinged yellow. He reached out with a shaking hand and took it from her. Then he vamped out and bit through the plastic, blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth. It was gone in a few minutes, and Dawn wished she had brought more. When the crumpled plastic dropped from his hands, he wiped the blood from his mouth, his features returning to human.

"Shouldn't be here. 'S dangerous for a tasty bit like you. Could do something I end up regretting."

Dawn sat back on her heels. "I'm not afraid of you, Spike," she said calmly. He lunged forward suddenly, knocking her backwards. He crouched over her, one hand wrapped around her throat.

"You should be," he hissed. Then he was gone, and Dawn sat up, rubbing her throat as her heart returned to normal. "Go home," he told her dully.

"I'm going," she said. "But I'll be back tomorrow. You'll need to eat."

Spike didn't answer. He turned his face away and hummed under his breath. After a few bars, he began to sing in a broken, stilted voice. Dawn had to strain to catch the words.

"Early one morning,

Just as the sun was rising,

I heard a maid sing

In the valley below.

Oh, don't deceive me,

Oh, never leave me,

How could you use

A poor maiden so?"

Dawn sighed and shook her head as she climbed up the ladder to the surface.

*****

"Well, if you hadn't gone all Paul Bunyan on the thing, it might not have exploded!" Buffy said over her shoulder as she stomped through the front door.

"Me? I wasn't the one with the axe," Angel retorted, kicking the door shut behind him. "The only way to permanently kill a Merthan demon is dismemberment. You're the one that pierced its mucus sack."

"What happened to you two?" Cordelia asked, eyeing the pair up and down. They were both covered head-to-toe in glistening, yellow slime. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

"You could have told me what it was!" Buffy continued irately. "You're the one with all this demon knowledge."

"I did tell you! I told you to avoid the torso!"

"Did you kill the demon?" Cordelia demanded.

"Yes," they said at the same time.

Cordy pointed to the stairs. "Showers. Now. I'm not letting you near Caddie like that."

"At least it doesn't smell," Buffy grumbled as she headed up the stairs, Angel on her heels. Cordelia shook her head and returned to the kitchen to discover that eight-month-old Cadence had somehow managed to get out of her high chair and was now resolutely toddling toward the dining room.

"Oh, no you don't," Cordelia said, scooping the child up into her arms. "Why do you have to be so smart? It would be so much easier if you were a normal baby."

*****

Holland Manners looked up from the report spread over the table in front of him. "So you think this child holds potential for Wolfram & Hart?"

Lilah Morgan nodded firmly. "According to the prophecies, she will be incredibly powerful. I believe that we can harness that power and groom her to serve the Senior Partners."

Manner's steepled his fingers and studied his subordinate. "You have a plan, I assume?"

"I'd like immediate retrieval of the child. She's already eight months old, and the younger we get a hold of her, the better. We can use one of our alternate dimensions to raise the child."

"You have a specific guardian in mind?"

"Yes, sir. We're already planning on entrusting the Fey to Parhon in Revona. He could easily take care of both children."

Manners considered Ms. Morgan's request for a long moment. Then he nodded and said, "You have permission to proceed."

Lilah got to her feet, gathering her files together. "Thank you, sir," she said with a faint smile.

"Lilah," Manners called before she could reach the door. She turned around to face him. "Don't embarrass me," he warned.