When Spike woke up at 6, he knew he had about 45 minutes before the sun rose. Calculating carefully he took a short trip to the all-night UC Sunnydale convenient store. Few vampires ventured out that early or late (depending on your point of view) because the Monday morning sun was too near of a danger. At the store he bought several human type items: toothbrush, toothpaste, crayons, paper, and some child sized shirts and shorts bearing the UC Sunnydale logo. He paid particular attention to the food he bought since the only food edible to humans was of the alcoholic nature or Count Chocula. He bought bread, milk, peanut butter, sliced roast beef, and a pizza. The sleepy clerk rang up his items, which he paid for in cash, pocketing the receipt.
Spike made if home with 15 minutes to spare. He had barely finished unpacking all his purchases when Eve began to scream.
"Dark, Daddy William!"
He rushed into her room and flipped on the light. Eve flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around one jean-covered leg. She was trembling like mad, and Spike wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Her hysterics could wake the whole neighborhood, not to mention the fact that he totally despised hysterical people, human or vampire. Humans that had lost it were usually eaten first, and he found that killing them lowered the amount of hysterical vampires he'd have to thrash later.
Against his better judgement, he detached her from his leg and crouched down until he was at her level. She stared at him, her dark hair all askew, her green eyes frightened. "What's the matter, pet?' he inquired as conversationally as possibly.
"The bad men came! Daddy William couldn't stop them. They got me, not even the Chosen One could save me!" She hid her face on his arm, "Then they hurt you, Daddy William, so I would help them. And I did." Eve looked away from him, "They hurt the Chosen One too, but they bited me. It hurt and after that I bited the Chosen One. I was a bad man!"
"Eve, look at me." Spike forced her to face him, "The bad men can't get you. I won't let them. They will never make you one of them." And he meant it. No one would turn this child into a vampire, ever. Apparently the demon inside him felt the same way because it did not even stir in protest.
"You believe that, "Eve stated, relaxing against him. "Then I'm safe."
"Now that we've got that clear, I think that you should do me a favor and eat something. You'll be better after breakfast."
Eve nodded and followed him to the kitchen. They sat and so went one of the oddest meals ever to grace the earth. Eve ate the cereal with the milk. The cereal was Count Chocula which Spike had because he like the mascot and its texture when ground up in the pig's blood. It turned her milk brown in contrast to the 'strawberry' milkshake Spike drank. Some milk mixed with pig's blood did look like those instant breakfasts he had seen on TV, once he blended it in his hardly touched blender.
Over breakfast Spike decided to provide some explanations and set some rules.
"Eve, you remember last night?"
"The bad men got Mommy and Daddy. Daddy William rescued me."
"That's all well and good, but from now on you need to stay in the house. No playing outside." He used the voice he used to use with his dumber minions, the one that left no room for questions.
"Why?" she asked innocently.
The voice must not have worked. "Because. . ."*I'm a vampire and sunlight is death.* "The bad men could still be looking for you. so we'll hide her for a while. We just have to stay inside and. . .play. No bad men will find us."
"What if they do?"
"They only hunt at night," he paused and took this as an opportunity to lecture her on safety. "Don't open the doors, windows, or curtains. Definitely don't invite anyone in. Strangers can be dangerous." Spike felt foolish trying to explain the facts of life in Sunnyhell to a five-year old.
"Okay," she agreed finally not asking any more questions about it. "Can we play now?"
"First we do the dishes," he replied. That wasn't too much trouble because, as opposed to food, he used dishes. He washed, Eve attempted to dry, and then they put the food away on Spike's mostly bare shelves.
Eve looked at the empty cupboards with amazement, "Don't you get hungry?"
*Not for food.* "I-well, I eat out alot," Spike stammered.
"Oh, like McDonald's. I love Happy Meals," Eve chimed in.
*Probably not the kind I love.* "A bit," Spike hastily concurred, searching for something for her to do. "I know, let's watch a video on the telly."
She clapped her hands when she caught sight of the huge TV. Spike wandered over to his video library, trying to find an appropriate video for a five-year-old. While he loved movies, most of his collection was the MTV, rated R and up variety. Luckily he found what he needed at the back. Whistling to himself, he pulled out three old favorites.
"Okay, luv, you ever see Star Wars? No? We've got to fix that." He popped the first one into the VCR, and Eve was enthralled. Keeping half an eye on her, Spike worked at his so-called job from his computer on the other side of the room, answering history questions via Internet. Most questions were so laughably simple, they served to convince him over again that American humans were down right dumb. It also helped that questions were often about things he'd actually live through.
One question did disturb him. It was about the Salem Witch Trials for a Mythology class. [Were the girls in Salem seers?]
[No] he typed eyeing Eve and thinking about Drusilla. [They had eaten hallucinogenic spores.]
He paused. Eve really did seem exactly like what he imagined Dru must have been as a child. Eerie and trusting which, of course, had led to trouble for Dru. Angelus loved corrupting the innocent whereas Spike had taken such great pains to protect his dark princess. Maybe that was why he felt for Eve so much; she was a baby Dru. That had to be it, Eve was exactly like Dru, minus the insanity and bloodlust, naturally.
The movie rolled to an end, but Eve even watched the credits. "The bad men lost, "she exclaimed. "What happens next? One bad man got away."
Spike checked the time, "You'll see after lunch. Which it is about time for now."
They ate their second meal of the day. Both had sandwiches, she had the peanut butter, and he had extremely rare roast beef. She was drinking her milk when she gave him an odd look.
"What is it, luv?"
"Why do you get juice? I don't."
Spike examined the red 'juice' in his cup. "You need milk to grow. I'm all done growing. Been done growing for a long time now." *A very long time.* Changing the subject, he asked out loud, "Did you like the movie?"
"Yes," she blurted out. "The princess is the Chosen One. She fought the bad men." Eve eyed him carefully, "Is the Chosen One like the princess?"
Why not tell her some of the truth? "Yes, she is very strong, pretty, and smart."
"What about those two boys? She likes them both. Does she get to pick just one?"
"Eventually. Should she pick the one that is boringly good or the one that came through in the end?" Spike had a particular dislike for Luke and the whole 'tortured destiny' act. Han Solo was more his style.
"I dunno. One is all good, but the other is good inside. He's just hiding it." Her eyes bored into Spike, and he shifted under the scrutiny. "Can we watch the next one now?"
"Sure, pet." This time he watched it with her. Throughout the next one, which was his personal favorite, she sat on his lap. Every time Darth Vader came onscreen, she hid her head in his chest. The carbon-freezing part was the worst for her. "Why did his friend help the bad men?" she cried.
"He was scared. He's very sorry now. He'll make it up later," Spike assured her.
Eve watched the final climactic fight scene between father and son with an awed expression. When the movie ended, she looked at Spike for answers. "That bad man was his daddy?"
"Yes, pet. He was."
Her chin jutted out, "But he's bad! He hurt his son's friends. He hurt his son. Bad things should happen to him! He used his magic for badness!"
Spike recoiled, oddly hurt by her comments. He'd always felt a bit of a kinship with poor misunderstood Darth. "Eve, not everything is as it seems all the time. You'll see. Let's play something else now."
She complied, and they got out the paper and crayons. At her insistence he drew with her on the table. Eve hummed to herself and swung her feet as she scribbled away at the paper. Spike doodled for a while before drawing the refrigerator. He wasn't into art like Angel was. Then he noticed Eve fighting off sleep.
"Nap time," he said.
"Aren't sleepy," she yawned in protest.
"Are too," he picked her up, avoiding the cross and put her to bed.
With her asleep, he went to the refrigerator and took a healthy swig of blood fromfrom the carton. Pig's blood still tasted terrible , but he needed it to live. Glancing at his supply, he figured he could last a few more days at least. He also decided that now would be a good time to watch Passions, which he'd taped on the VCR in his room. He loved the show, there were such good evil in it. As usual he watched it on his couch all vamped out, wondering what kind of wankers the 'good' characters had to be since the 'evil' characters manipulated them so easily. If the Slayer had been on the show, Tabitha wouldn't have lasted a minute past her first evil act.
*The Slayer. . .she was gorgeous,* he thought drifting off into sleep. It was his usual rest time at least.
The sound of a door opening hours later disrupted his rest. He sat up, game face still on, and pulled it off swiftly when he saw it was just Eve waking up.
"Hullo, Eve. Have a nice nap?" At her nod he asked, "What do you want to do now?"
"Finish my picture," she said blinking sleep away. So they colored for another hour. Spike drew his untouched toaster. When Eve was done, she proudly displayed her picture. "See, Daddy William, you." It kind of was. He did have whitish hair, and he was pale. However, even without being able to see his reflection, he was pretty sure that his nose was above his mouth and that his eyes were near the same size.
What did humans say, it's the thought that counts? "It's lovely. What shall I do with it?" *What did they always do on the telly?* "I know, let's put it on the refrigerator." Placing it was a little hard because Spike didn't own a single magnet. Using some British ingenuity, he managed to stick her picture of him and his pictures of appliances (because she asked) up on the refrigerator with duct tape.
They played hide-and-go-seek next. Spike took his time finding her under the guest bed, ignoring the giggles as he pretended to search everywhere. She found him easily in her closet when it was her turn, not bothering to search anywhere else. He had no idea how she knew he was there since he couldn't have been making a sound, no breathing and all.
Dinner, the pizza he'd bought that morning was devoured quickly because he had promised Eve they would watch the final installment of the trilogy after they finished. On his part, Spike pretended to be perfectly content with his non-meal.
When they sat down to watch the last video, Eve plopped down on his lap. She hardly closed her eyes the entire movie. Her little form was petrified in fear from the second the Emperor graced the scene until the second he met his death at the end. Eve cried when Darth lost his mask and literally gave up the ghost.
Eventually the credits rolled, and Spike turned off the TV. Eve stretched, climbing off his lap with a grin.
"Daddy William?"
"Yes, pet."
"I'm happy the princess picked the one that was good inside." She thought for a second, "I'm happy the daddy was not all bad."
"That's good," he agreed, leading her to the bathroom where she could brush her teeth. When she was done, he set her on the bed and listened to her repeat the prayer from the previous night. Instead of requesting another story, she wanted something else tonight, "If the Chosen One is the princess, are there others?"
"Well, you know the hairy one? We kinda had one of those, but only three nights of the month." Spike wondered how the absent werewolf would have thought about that description. "Also, there is a Yoda and Obi-wan combo. His job is to help the Chosen One." That summed up the Watcher pretty cleanly. "I think Luke move to L.A. since he found out he couldn't have the Chosen One." Spike steered clear of the part about Angel being his sire and the Slayer's ex-boyfriend.
"Which one are you?" her little voice asked him.
"I'd say I'm a bit of the bad daddy, the bad friend, and Han Solo." That did describe it: evil demon inside, the betrayal of his kind, and not to sure he want to be on the 'good' side. In fact if he wanted to be accepted again by his own kind, he could simply turn Eve over to the local vampire posse and all would be forgiven. But he wouldn't, not for any reason. The line was drawn in the sand; Eve would never become a vampire.
"Is there the Force?"
There could have never been a more perfect moment to make the facts of life in Sunnyhell more clear to her. "In a way, luv. The Chosen One and her pals are all on the light side, Yoda, Chewy, the witch, but they live on top of a whole bunch of dark side power that makes bad men. They fight the bad men all the time." Now to explain himself, "Sometimes the bad men do change sides. They don't really get all good; they just help out the light side."
"You're one!" she exclaimed.
"True, so is Luke in L.A. Only he's better than me, he doesn't have as much bad in him." Spike slowly let his demon coming to the surface. He felt compelled to let her see exactly who she was dealing with.
Eve watched him, staring at his fangs and scaly brow. She gently ran a hand across his face, concentration etched on her face. The tiny had swept by his demon ridges, touching each on in turn. "You're them and not them." She pronounced and suddenly her head snapped backward falling back on the bed.
Spike pulled his demon back in and tried to support her. Eve sat up, back ramrod straight, her eyes wide open, staring into space. In a voice deeper and lower than her usual one she said, "Evil done by good hands is evil. Good done by evil hands is good." She took a breath, inhaling and flung her arms out. Her small body seemed to glow, filling her with an unearthly light. The haunting voice said, "She is their Tool, and I am their Voice." Eve collapsed again, shrinking back into her child's body, eyes closed.
Slowly her eyes opened, "Daddy William that hurt." Eve seemed to forget about the ghostly conversation she had just had. "Who are the robots?" Spike had no clue what she was talking about. "Robots," she repeated. "Does the Chosen One have robots?"
"No, not good ones at least. Two of her friends sound like them." How could her tell her about Red and that annoying mouthy one? "One is a good witch, she does good magic. The other is a wanke-dude that is hopelessly devoted to the Slay-Chosen One." At this point he was stammering, so utterly shocked by her behavior.
"Okay, Eve's sleepy now. Night, Daddy William." She tilted her head expectantly, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He walked out after turning out her light. Then he stared at her door for a long time.
Was it possible? What did this little girl see in him, in everything. His mind flicked over the possibilities. Eve was no demon of any type; she acted, and, more importantly, smelled perfectly human. The possibility of some type of possession was not unrealistic, but she probably would have acted stranger, and a bit more destructive.
His thoughts wandered to Dru. She had been somewhat clairvoyant, but she only 'heard' voices that told her the future and gave her some insight to events that were occurring at the same time. The incident when the Slayer and his sire had gotten to shag was a good example. Angel lost his soul, and Dru certainly felt that change.
The Slayer. Spike picked up his cell phone and started to dial her number. He stopped. No use calling her now, she would be either out on patrolling or dating that bloke Riley. He wasn't going to tell anyone except her about Eve, and until he knew what was wrong or right with Eve, he'd have to sit tight. No way was he becoming like the poof, running to his Slayer *When did she become my Slayer?* every time something not so kosher happened.
Spike poured himself a cup of blood and tried to imagine what kind of danger Eve could be in. She was just a little girl, too young to be a threat to anyone yet. No vampire would dare attack her while she was in his house under his care, right? There wasn't any danger of course. Everything would be fine. He checked the surveillance cameras, no suspicious activity day or night. No one had tried to do anything or track him as far as he could tell. There was absolutely positively nothing to worry about. Nevertheless, before he turned in early, Spike painted her door handle with holy water, just in case.