The Downside of Elemental Dieseling

Author: Nickeltaffy

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah…These characters are Joss's. I don't own them, never did and never will. Thanks for the loan, Joss.

…..

Chapter 4

Angel and his team began to set a plan on gathering information regarding the boat that may have pulled in Spike the night before. It was anchored at a remote dock an hour outside Los Angeles. Considering that the owner did not want to draw any attention to their clandestine activities, it was a good guess that the boat would there until dark. It was decided that someone needed to go and check out the boat for any sign of Spike. Standing, Gunn turned to the team as he pointed to the screen.

"Let me go. I know that area. I have some old members of my old group that are still in that area." Gunn stated firmly. "It shouldn't be too much of a problem to get the lowdown on what's going on at that ship."

…

Spike had been imprisoned many times since becoming undead, but he had never felt the oppression that he did sitting on that sofa just then. Spike found himself wedged between an overly affectionate and clinging Shirley and the domineering presence of a calmly knitting Mamushka on a large overstuffed sofa. On the opposite wall from the sofa, there was a large flat screen television displaying a mindless cartoon. Shirley was sitting there in an outfit that was bold in colorful print as it was in fit. Due to her unending fascination with the little boy, she had pulled up one knee on the sofa and had the elbow of her arm balanced on the sofa behind Spike. Shirley's fingers were busy wrapping themselves in Spike's curls as he did his best to hide his gritted teeth and feigned intense interest with the television. As he sat there, Spike's mind was whirling with questions originating from the situation he found himself in. He could smell the trouble brewing that office. Those shady characters seemed to give off a whiff of bad news, if he ever saw it, especially if there were messing with that urn. Spike decided that when he managed to get to Wolfram and Hart, he would let them handle this situation. But that was for later…for the time being, he sat there on the sofa like a cat cornered in a tree by two immense dogs.

Spike silently sighed as he ran a recap of what had happened in the office after he saw that picture of that urn. He had heard a gasping shriek from Shirley as she dragged him out of the office, apologizing to the men as she did it. Along the way to the game room, he was given a little lecture about appropriate words as an exasperated Shirley tugged him along. She told him that now that he was in this household, he should refrain from using the word 'H-E-double hockey sticks' at all times. It was a big person word and not for little boys. Spike's mouth unconsciously fell open in disbelief since it had been a really long time since he had been on the receiving end of a lecture on manners. The pair progressed across the penthouse when Shirley unexpectedly stopped. Bending down on to one knee and cupping his face in her hand, she addressed him looking directly into his face.

"Sugar Pie, I know this has been a difficult number of changes for you, but we're all here trying to make it better. Okay, Sonny?" she said. Then making a small sobbing sound as she brushed a stray curl back, she became emotional and folded him into her strongly perfumed embrace.

Finding himself being held in a strange blanketing hug, Spike cocked his head slightly to look at the woman embracing him, hearing the sound of the woman's less than successful attempt to control her welling emotions. "Bleeding women's tears…I have no defense against that. On top of that…who is Sonny?" Spike grumbled in his head, and then something stuck him odd. "Is..is that supposed to be me?"

So, here he found himself condemned by his own words in the office and sandwiched between these two monoliths of maternal glory, watching an insipidly age appropriate cartoon. Other than the sound of the cartoon program, there was no other sound than the gentle clicking noise coming from Mamushka's knitting needles as she systematically increased the item she was knitting. He could feel the weight of both women's eyes upon him. Under such close surveillance, that he would have to wait till tonight before he could make his break for freedom.

…

Gunn stopped his vehicle about three hundred yards away from the area of the docks behind some closely grouped trees. He had picked up his old buddies from the vampire hunting gang that lived in the area. Luckily, they still retained the ability to look like teenagers, albeit big scruffy looking ones. Prior to arrival, they had all agreed upon the plan to distract the guards on the Ukraine Mermaid, so Gunn could search it.

At the end of the dock by the water, one of the guards was sitting in a chair up on the boat's deck, while the other was aimlessly strolling in front of the boat on the dock. It had been an uneventful day, so they were bored and were chatting about some gossip about the gang. It was just then that they noticed two young scurrilous young men arrive at the other end of the dock. The supposed teenagers were dressed in typical teenage rebellion gear; one had a skateboard under one arm while the other was carrying a banged up looking backpack. Under the suspicious eyes of the guard, the guards watched the pair stop where the dock began. The backpack was set down and the seemingly teenage delinquents pulled out spray paint cans, giving a look around for anyone in the area.

The guard on the dock yelled and moved toward the young men, who brashly vaulted insults at the man. After a few choice insults, the guard began to run at the kids, who took off into the wooded area. One of the kids doubled back to the dock and was shaking the can of paint as he neared the boat. The guard on the boat jumped out of his chair, yelling at the kid chasing him away from the boat. Watching all this, Gunn was impressed that his friends had never lost their touch on the skills that allowed them to trap vampires as he moved swiftly down the dock.

Gunn smoothly and silently climbed aboard the Ukraine Mermaid. He was startled but not really surprised when he found Taras' office. He looked quickly around for anything that would indicate that they had found Spike. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he went over to the desk, looking for the previous night's log. Finding and seeing no mention of Spike, Gunn let the log fall back to the desk. That's when he saw something interesting. He saw the drawing of the urn on the desk. He picked up his camera and took a few quick shots of it and other documents regarding it on the desk.

Realizing that the guards would be returning momentarily, Gunn swiftly departed the ship and returned to his vehicle. A moment later, the doors opened as his old friends jumped in with gratified smiles after reliving the old days. After dropping off his old friends, Gunn turned the car toward Los Angeles, disappointed that he was unable to find anything on Spike's whereabouts. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Angel. On the other hand, Gunn reasoned that Spike could just come walking through the doors at the agency. He would always put money on that blonde vampire could beat the odds.

…..

It was just a little after 2:30AM when Spike slowly opened the door of the guest room where he had been listening to the household quiet down. Taras had left the penthouse around ten o'clock with his men. For the past hour, he had only heard the gentle breathing of Shirley and the louder snores of Mamushka. Having dressed in some of the less offensive clothes Shirley had purchased, Spike cautiously crept down the hall, and out to the living room to make his way toward the front door. He was just about to enter the entry hall when he realized his situation.

"Wait a minute. Look at me! I got the freakin body of a four year old. I'll be lucky to make a block before someone stops me." Spike thought. "It would be my soddin luck to be taken down to the police station. There's no way in hell I'm entering bleedin Child Welfare system. Buggar! I gotta get someone to meet me. Who? Fred! She'd do it! That girl's a corker! She wouldn't let a mate down. Where was the phone?" Spike looked quickly around but didn't see one. He knew there had to be one in Taras' office. It would also give him a chance to look over whatever that old git was up to. Whatever business he was conducting, it didn't look to be too savory from what he saw on his previous visit. "I'll give the info to the team and let them handle it while I am dealing with …well, this body image thing." Spike thought.

Spike quickly made his way to Taras' office. Opening the door and gently closing it, he made his way over the large desk, which had a large credenza behind it. Spike had just reached the area behind the desk, when he heard the front door open with Taras' joyously celebrating with his men. Spike looked around quickly when he heard the voices coming closer to the office. He spied a lower cabinet door that was slightly ajar. Opening it, he saw that it was plenty of space for his new smaller self inside the cabinet. He quickly sat inside and pulled the door to with his fingernails.

Taras and his men burst through the doors to the office, with huge self congratulatory grins on their faces. Taras was proudly holding the urn in front of him as he lead the procession of his men into the office. He called for his men to clear a spot in the center of his desk, so he could place the urn down. Two of the three burly looking men who accompanied Taras ran up and hurriedly moved the papers and other items to clear a spot. Spike could see Taras carefully put down the urn in the center of his desk from the crack in the cupboard door he had left. Once the urn was safely secure, Tara held his arms out to keep his men from leaning over and looking at it. He grasped his hands together in a greedy gesture as he turned to address his men and opened his mouth to memorialize the event.

Just then, a scream cut through the air. Then to Spike's horror, Shirley appeared at the doors to Tara's office. Her rollers hanging down in disarray as she clutched the robe matching baby doll peignoir to her chest.

"Oh Taras! He's gone! Sonny's gone! I can't find him anywhere!" Shirley cried with face red, tears just beginning to flow down her face as she flung herself at Taras. Taras, in the midst of be smothered by his larger wife, deftly snapped his fingers at his underlings to begin the search for the child.

Spike winced as he saw Taras send his troops out to locate him. He was trapped! Taras began to comfort his weeping wife by guiding her out of the office by wrapping his arm around her shoulders. On the way out of the office, Taras softly assured his weeping wife that the child would soon be located. Seeing that the coast was clear in the office, Spike silently got out of the cabinet and stood up behind the desk. He noticed that he was eyelevel with the relic sitting on the desk. He could now see the full inscription that was not on the drawing.

Translating the writing in Fyarl, it read:
"Behold in tides of woe, the bringer of everlasting suffering. Cast not the essentia into the abandon. The heart blood of Pylean cow shall disenthrall the ascendancy of Hjorlian. The scion will swallow the world in his eclipse."

"Well, if that wasn't a "Danger. Do not open" warning if I ever bleedin saw one" thought Spike as he stared at the inscription. Spike's mind raced. " Wait…Pylea ..Lorne… Fred. Oh my God, didn't Fred say she was considered a cow there." Spike's mind reeled excitedly. "There was no way that git, Taras is going to hurt Fred. Not while I am around, that is."

Spike ducked down behind the desk as he heard the sound of adult footsteps coming toward the office. Relaxing as he heard the footsteps fade, Spike stood up decisively. He had to destroy that urn. Spike reached for the urn to smash it but it seemed to emanate a force field around it. He couldn't get his hands near it. Spike, then picked up a heavy paperweight from the desk and threw it at the urn. It was flung away from the urn bouncing off Spike's forehead. Rubbing the spot with his hand, it appeared that he wasn't going to be able to destroy it tonight. With a new determination, Spike now knew he couldn't leave. There was only one thing he could do- he had to stay close to that damn urn.

Now, what to do with this current situation? He would have more freedom if he was considered an innocent child. That meant he had to get back to that bedroom and fast. Due to his vampire hearing, he could tell the adults were scattered all over the large penthouse. Peaking out the office doors to make sure the coast was clear; he used his vampire speed to make a beeline for the guest bedroom. Once inside, he leaned back against the closed door, he let out a deep breath. He knew he couldn't be found back in the bed after such a commotion being made. He had to think fast. He could hear a sobbing Shirley coming back to his room. Then an idea hit him.

A clearly upset Shirley barged through the door, leading Taras and Mamushka into the room. Once she got to the bed, she turned around with her arm pointing the mess of sheets where Spike was supposed to be.

"See. He's gone. I came in here and he was gone!" Shirley wailed, with evidence of her tears still apparent on her face.

Mamushka looked at Shirley's emotional display with wise eyes. She took a step forward to the distraught woman and patted Shirley's arm for a few moments. Mamushka stood back and looked around the room; she then put a finger up to her lips. She walked silently over to the closet. Opening the door, she looked inside. She beckoned Shirley to come over. There on the floor was a little figure curled up asleep in the corner.

With his eyes closed while feigning sleep, Spike thought. "I hope they bleedin buy this!"