Before dawn, Spike woke and ran to that convenient store, buying tomato soup and a children's book. Eve slept later about to eight, giving Spike a chance to practice in his second floor exercise room. Most of his vampire/quasi-slayer supplies were kept up there: garlic, stakes, crosses, crossbows, and the like. There was also a storage room up there for personal items and other odds and ends.
He'd just been getting a good workout in when the screams started. Spike rushed down the stairs and stopped short of the door. The holy water he poured on the handle protected Eve form vampires, but it also kept him out.
Gritting his teeth, he reached for the handle. Eve needed him right now. The pain was intense as his undead flesh sizzled against the holy water. Biting back a curse, he ran into the room and seized the screaming child, shaking her until she came fully awake.
"Daddy William?" she sobbed, her face on his shoulder, "The bad men were back. They had stars. The stars burned."
"It's okay, luv. See no stars here." He petted her like a cat, sticking his burned hand in his pocket and waited for her quaking form to hold still.
As he sat patting her head, he concluded that this 'Daddy William' job did have its perks. Eve trusted him and only him with a totality he had never experienced even with Drusilla. He had killed hundreds of little girls with his bare hands, and the demon inside of him could have easily torn Eve to shreds. Yet, somehow, he knew he would never ever do that. In fact, he realized that he would go to any length to protect this fragile human child.
Her sobs did eventually stop, and she returned to her happy little five-year-old persona again. Their day was much like the day before except they did not watch Star Wars. They played hide-and-go-seek and airplane. Spike turned down doctor (the medical type) because he didn't have a pulse or a heartbeat, and his body temperature was the same as room temperature. Eve drew for a while and Spike drew his TV. The picture Eve drew looked different than before. There were lots of circles, crosses, and other unrecognizable swirls. She simply called it 'New."
The break in the 'normal' day occurred during the dinner of tomato soup. First he noticed that he was nearly out of blood, which was going to become a serious problem quite soon. Then he noticed Eve had stopped eating her soup and bread. She had taken out her black crayon and was drawing on a white piece of paper. Humming in a low tone, her feet swung back and forth.
"Eve," he called. No response. "Eve," he repeated. Still nothing. He stood, walked over to her, and tapped her on the shoulder. She didn't react. He looked down at the drawing she was concentrating on and froze.
It was the Slayer. A perfect likeness drawn in black crayon. Eve's picture could have been used as a police sketch. Spike could actually see the minute details of the Slayer's face caught cleanly on the white paper.
Eve said in that too familiar low voice, "When one dies, another is called. She is their Tool, and I am their Voice." She shrank a bit, and Spike saw she had reverted to a half-trance state he recognized from living a century with Dru.
"Hold here, pet. Be back in a bit." Spike turned and ran up the stairs to the storage room to rummage through an unlabeled box. In his haste, he upended it and found what he sought at the bottom of the pile. Tarot cards, Dru's in fact, he'd taken them when they parted that last time.
Rushing back down the stairs he thrust them in front of Eve saying, "Go ahead, shuffle, and pick three." Tiny hands picked up the cards, cut them, and shuffled them with the ease of a Las Vegas dealer. Trembling fingers then pulled three from the top of the deck, setting them side by side.
Spike looked at the cards and cursed. He sprinted into the living room, grabbed his cell phone, and punched a number.
"Slayer," the voice demanded urgently.
"Speaking," Buffy replied adjusting her hair in the mirror. "Spike, could you hurry this up? Riley is gonna be here any second." Buffy knew she sounded harsh, but it served him right for not contacting her for two days. He'd dropped this unspecific 'situation' on her, and didn't give any details. She worried about it for the last two days straight wondering if he was fine. Personally she couldn't understand why she was concerned for his health at all.
"I need you to come to my house now." Spike snarled in response to her obviously annoyed response.
"Did you miss the first part? Date, rhymes with late. You know D-A-T-E, something you can get if your unlife depended on it. I am going on one." Buffy was getting really annoyed now with him giving her orders.
"Listen Slayer, I need you at my house now. I can't leave and the situation I'm in is rapidly getting bigger."
"Fine. What else? Is this a staking type situation?" She asked realizing Spike never asked for help. Whatever he was into had to be so big , against such huge odds, that he had to call her.
"It's not to dusting yet, but be prepared. You also need to bring me some stuff," Spike told her.
"Like what?"
"Garlic, holy water, crosses, more stakes, pig's blood, a hairbrush, and jelly. It can all fit in a book bag or whatever you have."
That stopped Buffy short, "What am I, the vampire 711? You need me there right now, right after I go shopping."
"You're pissing me off, Slayer," he hissed at her. "Make sure you muddle the trail before you come here. Come through the yard of the house behind mine and go in the back door. We're not answering the door, ducks, so you'll need to put in the code."
"Fine, I'll do it." Buffy said. "What's the code?"
"I'll only tell you it once. 01901260243. Meet me in an hour." Spike hung up.
"Vampires," Buffy shook her head and laid the phone back on its cradle. She began to pull her patrolling clothes out of her dresser. The little red number she had been going to wear on the date was not ideal for crawling through yards and climbing fences. The black catsuit was much better for that kind of thing.
There was a knock at her door as she finished changing. She opened the door to see Riley all dressed up for the date they weren't going on.
"Oh, Riley, hi," she said feeling awkward.
Riley watched her remove one of her earrings, "That's not a good sign for our date ,is it?"
He was a true blue member of the Initiative which captured demons, vampires, and the like on campus. The Initiative was also responsible for whatever kept Spike from harming humans. Spike had escaped before anything else happened to him. While Riley did understand her slaying duties, he would have been less than sympathetic to Spike's plight, so no one in the Scooby Gang ever revealed Spike's existence to him, though there had been some close calls.
"I'm sorry. One of my friends is really sick and needs me right away," Buffy fibbed wondering if he could tell she was lying. She hated to lie to Riley yet again and began to mentally throttle Spike for his behavior.
"She is? Well, I'll come with you to the hospital then."
"No! I mean no, that's okay. Not at the hospital," She put on a sweater, "Still at home."
"Then I'll come visit her," he suggested reasonably.
"Nah, they're really contagious and me being the Slayer and all, I'm immune," she leaned closer and patted him on the cheek. "I'm really sorry."
He brightened considerably, "I trust you're not sneaking off to visit some other guy." He turned totally missing the blanched look on Buffy's face. "I'll go to the party by myself. Tell your friend that I hope she feels better."
Overcome by guilt, Buffy followed him and gave him a short kiss on the lips, "I'm really sorry. I was looking forward to tonight."
"It'll be all right," he replied, completely revived. "We'll go out next week." Giving her another kiss, he left.
*He's so handsome and sweet,* she thought. *He treats me so well, and he's nice and he's so-*
*Normal and boring,* a traitorous voice in her head countered. *Take those kisses. If he'd been Spike, you'd have caught on fire and never made it off the floor until you finished what started in the bathtub.*
Buffy leaned against her door, practically feeling his hands all over her. In her hair, on her breasts. . .
*Stop!* She mentally berated herself. *You're the Slayer, he is a vampire.* So they kissed a few times, big deal. She had kissed Riley more than a few times. *But he's not Spike,* that voice whispered.
Groaning inwardly Buffy turned back to the task at hand. She began filling her book bag with slayer supplies. It was just like him to call at the worst time with Willow at study group. After jotting down a note for her, she packed garlic into her bag. Why exactly did Spike need all those supplies that were such great methods for getting rid of vampires.
Buffy hefted her full bag onto her shoulders. She had most of Spike's shopping list on hand. Stopping at Giles's house, she picked up the pig's blood and jelly. Fortunately he wasn't home to question why she was taking those items. Now she was creeping through the yard of the house directly behind Spike's. All she need to do now was jump the hedge that separated the two yards.
In three short runs she was airborne, over the fence, landing stake in hand, prepared for an attack in any direction. Nothing. She avoided puddles and climbed the stairs to the back door.
Puddles? It hadn't rained in the last week. How could there be puddles? Also it smelled a little strange. After punching in the code, she grabbed the door handle, felt something sticky, and figured out what the smell was.
Garlic, someone had smashed it all around the steps, and she was willing to bet that the puddle were holy water. In fact, there were crosses of some type in every window and one hanging on the door. That was more than strange. Had someone put those up to keep Spike from going outside, or had Spike put them up himself to keep someone out?
Entering the house she found the garlic smell redoubled in the outer room. She closed the door, and it made a loud clicking noise as its deadbolt slid electronically into place. There was also a strange circle drawn on the door in white chalk. Upon further examination, the chalk circle resembled something Willow drew on her notebooks, a protection spell of some kind. Willow had said the circle was a passive spell and wouldn't work until she was threatened with magical danger. The whole room looked like a vampire death trap, and Buffy couldn't imagine how Spike could handle living in it. There were even crosses chained to the washer and dryer.
Through the walls Buffy could vaguely hear Spike's voice. She couldn't make out the words so she ignored the garlic covered door handle and entered the living room.
Spike was sitting on the couch in his usual black on black outfit, reading out loud to a . . . . . . little girl in a long white T-shirt? *This has taken a turn for the bizarre.* That was the last person she expected to see in Spike's house. If it had been any vampire but Spike, she would have staked them then and there for playing with its 'food.' The little girl did not share Buffy's fears because she was curled up trustingly around him, sitting on his lap with obvious enjoyment reflected on her face.
Spike acknowledged her presence with his eyes but did not pause from his reading. (From The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss)"-I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny. But we can have good fun that is funny-"
Buffy waited for the story to finish, trying to guess why and how Spike had come to be in possession of a little kid. Her thoughts kept wandering to how even in this parental setting she couldn't stop thinking how sexy Spike looked as a father figure. She briefly envisioned him attending PTA meetings and seeing all the moms swoon when they met such a prime piece of flesh.
Dragging herself back to the scene, Buffy examined the girl. She had to be about five, and she was definitely human judging by the cross hanging on her neck, which, incidentally, Spike was taking care to avoid. The girl had a certain fragile beauty with dark hair and black-fringed giant green eyes. She radiated a certain innocence and calm that Buffy had never seen. Nowhere was it move evident that in her closeness to Spike, something not even Buffy who had been lovers with Angel had ever been completely comfortable with.
The little girl looked up at Buffy when the story was over and said, surprising Buffy, "Daddy William, she is the Chosen One."
Spike had heard the Slayer come in and had been quite aware of her eyes on him since her entry, but he was not prepared for Eve to recognize Buffy. "Yes, pet, she is the Chosen One. Just like I told you, Eve."
"Oh goody," Eve replied happily and climbed off his lap to run to Buffy and hug her legs.
The calm that was in Eve instantly cleared all the confusion that was in Buffy. She could see what it was that this little girl used to keep Spike enthralled. Eve stared up at Buffy's face, and Buffy had the odd sensation of being spun around and swallowed by Eve's gaze.
Eve blinked and Buffy felt herself return to normal. "You are good," Eve proclaimed. "You are the princess."
Behind them Spike cleared his throat, "That's all well and good, but, Eve, bedtime for you."
"Oh, Daddy William," Eve complained good naturedly, throwing her arms around him. He hoisted her up in the air, spun her around, and carried her to the bedroom. Squealing in delight Eve asked, "Will the princess be here in the morning?"
"She'll be here. Now bed," Spike sounded very much the harried father. He carried her to the bed, and Buffy watched from the doorway. Eve began to pray under the uneasy eyes of Spike.
"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. God bless, Mommy and Daddy, take care of them in heaven. Thank you for bringing me the Chosen One to protect me like Mommy used to." She sat up and interrupted her prayer, "Daddy William, what is the Chosen One's name?"
"Buffy," she answered for Spike from the doorway, not wanting to be labeled the Slayer.
"Bless Daddy William and Mommy Buffy. Bless also my three cats that we left at the neighbors. Amen," Eve ended her prayer.
At this point Eve looked at Spike, and to Buffy's surprise, he leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead. Eve returned it with a peck on his forehead. The scene was so sweet that Buffy was tempted to forget that Spike was a blood-sucking demon from beyond the grave.
Spike was headed for the door when Eve sat up and called out, "Daddy William? Are you going to kiss Mommy Buffy good night?"
Silence answered her. *Don't, please don't,* Buffy's mind called out with the other half cheerfully yelling, *Do it, please. Now!* She looked desperately at Spike.
On his part Spike stood stock still. He hadn't told Eve about the complexities of his relationship, or lack thereof, with the Slayer. She simply assumed he and the Slayer were some kind of couple, especially since Eve had labeled him Han and the Slayer the princess. It was true, he wanted to kiss her, but could he manage to keep his hands off the bloody Slayer?!
Spike turned and faced the Slayer. She was holding her breath, and he could hear her heart pounding like mad. He placed his cool hand on her arm, and she caught her breath as his mouth descended on hers.
It was an explosion of hot and cold. Buffy’s heart rate tripled, and Spike was fervently glad he did not have a blood pressure to speak of because it would have shot through the roof. His tongue slipped in her mouth, and she returned the favor. It wasn’t close enough for Buffy; she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer until they stood thigh to thigh, breast to chest. He responded by pinning her against the door frame.
A giggle interrupted them. “Yep, just like my old Mommy and Daddy.” Spike abruptly released the Slayer, beginning to mentally berate himself. So much for keeping his hands off. He flipped off the light, and pushed her out the door in confusion.
Standing in her own confusion, Buffy watched him stalk off into the kitchen. What happened? One second everything was okay, and the next she was wrapped in the arms of Spike, her hands roaming across his shoulder blades. Spike reentered the living room, gloved and carrying a water bottle with what appeared to be a shaker of Mrs. Dash. His movements were jerky, signaling his anger as he poured Mrs. Dash on the door’s handle, frame and nearby floor. Then he soaked the whole door with the water. He hissed when a drop hit his forearm and began to smoke. When he was done, he drew a cross gingerly from his pocket and hung it on the door. He turned and stomped back into the kitchen , dropping of the herbs, gloves, and water to flop down on the couch.
Buffy shut her eyes wondering if she really saw what she knew she had seen. Did Spike just vampire-proof Eve’s room with garlic, holy water, and a cross? Did Spike read stories and give good night kisses just like a father? She smiled at the thought and its hilarity.
“All right, Slayer. Spit it out. What’s so bleeding funny?” Spike growled at her.
“You. . .look so. . .domestic. It’s like ‘My dad the demon,'” Buffy started to laugh.
“Shut up," Spike spat. “Did you bring my stuff?”
“Yeah,” Buffy set her book bag on the coffee table.
He reached for it and then stopped, “Could you just hand me the blood?”
She opened her bag and pulled out the hairbrush, the jelly, the crosses, and finally the blood. He grabbed it and the jelly and ran to the kitchen, putting them in the refrigerator.
“What did you need those for?”
“Jelly cause Eve’s gonna get tired of peanut butter sandwiches, and blood cause I finished my supply off at dinner.”
“And you couldn’t go get more yourself.”
“Not since I can’t leave the house, unless I wanted to take a bite out of Eve,” he was baiting her, and she knew it.
“Since when did you become best pals with humans?” Buffy asked sarcastically.
His demon hopped out for a second and snarled at her, “This is your fault, Slayer. I rescued her from some vamps that were hunting her. The got her parents first. So I’ve been playing William the bloody father for two days!”
“Why didn’t you call earlier?”
“When I said hunting, I meant it. Those vamps had orders to catch her, not drain her.”
“No vampire turns down a free meal,” Buffy said flatly.
“Wrong. We make exceptions. . .in special cases,” he licked his lips.
“Like how special?” Buffy asked.
“I’d better show you.” He stood and led her into the kitchen. He pointed to his refrigerator, ”See that?”
She looked, “Well, someone has a love affair with his appliances.” She indicated the drawings of the TV, toaster, and refrigerator.
“Not mine, those.” He pointed to a picture of what she guessed had to be Spike and one of. . .herself? It was a perfect rendition of her sketched in black crayon. “Those two are Eve’s.”
“How did she do that?” she asked quietly.
“Don’t know. Eve never saw you until tonight.”
“Then why did she call me the Chosen One?”
“I told her. I explained life here in Sunnyhell to her.” Buffy winced imagining what he’d told Eve. “Not to worry, Slayer. It was with Star Wars subtitles. The Watcher was Yoda and the wolf the Wookie.”
She laughed, “So that made me Princess Leia, I guess. So who are you? Did you tell her about-”
“My undying passion for Manchester United or me co-opting my body with a demon? Yeah, she knows. Sees me as Han Solo and Darth Vader.”
“I suppose that fits. Eve knew about me, drew me, but didn’t actually know it was me?”
“She doesn’t even remember drawing the picture.”
“Oh,” Buffy couldn’t think of a way to reply.
“There’s more,” He moved toward the counter and picked up something. “You remember Dru, of course you remember, she bagged Kendra and shacked up with the poof. Anywho, Dru was really into this stuff and she was usually right.” Spike set three Tarot cards on the table: Judgement, World, and Death. “Eve picked these.”
“So that’s the future, isn’t it?” Buffy said softly.
“Yep, hell is coming to earth, I’d guess at least,” Spike agreed.
“Why did Eve come here, as in Sunnydale?”
“I can’t be sure. I think her parents were trying to get her to you or the Watcher, but the vamps found them first.”
“Why didn’t they change her?”
“Maybe because they didn’t know it was her. Little kids for all of eternity are major pains in the arse so they might not have wanted to change the wrong girl. Or they might have been in huge trouble if they killed her by mistake while taste testing,” Spike ventured.
Buffy’s eyes hardened, “If they kept her, what would they have done to her?”
“Not a clue. Could be lots of things. They might be trying to see the future directly. A master may want control of the future. It happens, Angel and Dru for one. Problem with vampire seer is that they seem to go insane. A child could be easier to control. Even I knew Dru was out of her tree, and your ex-pet wasn’t able to control her,” he paused. “I can’t be sure about any of this. I’m not the seer.”
“We need to get Giles and Willow.” Buffy moved to the phone.
Spike’s hand clamped down on her arm. “No.”
“Why not?” Buffy said stiffly.
“They expect you to do that. The more people who know about Eve, the easier time they’ll have finding her.”
“Then I’m going home,” Buffy tried to exit.
“‘Fraid not..” Spike stood in front of her with his demon out. “I promised Eve you’d be here tomorrow. Hell, I even kissed you for her.”
“You-” She spat at him. He’d kissed her just for Eve’s benefit? “I’m going.”
“Can’t. I made sure I can’t enter her room. Also, she probably needs a bath, and I’m not giving it to her.” Spike’s last comment was all innocence as he pulled the demon back in.
“You planned this!” she accused.
“Not at all, but it's time someone else took up part of this problem with me. Another day of this and we might have gone completely stir crazy. You at least can take her outside during the day when it is relatively safe.”
“You really care for Eve, don’t you?”
He spread his hands, “Reminds me of Dru, okay. Or what she would have been like if she wasn’t a crazy vampire.”
“So that’s why you’ll keep her safe?”
“That and her visions saving the world and, incidentally, the Manchester United team.”
“So I spend the night here, help you wake Eve, and go to class? That’s it?”
“No. You come here every night after patrolling and spend time on the weekends here.”
“You’re kidding. I’ve got to do research on Eve, since we can’t tell Willow or Giles, and I do still have something resembling a life, unlike you.”
“Like it or not, Slayer, Eve has picked you for ‘Mum.' How do I tell her that ‘Mummy' hates ‘Daddy?’ Bring the Watcher’s diaries here and tell him in secret. No one else, no Red, demon girl, Xander, or that Initiative bloke Riley.” Spike’s voice rang with his ultimatum. “Remember, this is for Eve, not me. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t be standing in this room with you, and Eve would have been a meal.”
“I hate you,” Buffy bristled.
“Likewise. Bed or couch?”
“Bed,” she turned and headed to the bedroom. Spike trailed after her and watched her climb into his king-sized black water bed. He climbed in on the other side.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“What does it look like. Even Eve knows that ‘Mummy and Daddy’ sleep in the same bed. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, this is a big bed. I stay on my side; you stay on yours. Your bloody virtue remains intact. Happy?”
“Not by a long shot, Dead Boy Junior,” Buffy said using Xander’s nickname for Spike.
“Believe me Slayer, it’s mutual.” Spike settled in comfortably on the left, and Buffy held tight to the right. She sat up. “I need to call Willow.”
“Go then. Make up whatever you need to. Just don’t tell her the truth.”
Buffy dragged herself out of the bed, kicking the covers off both of them. She picked up his cell phone from a nightstand and dialed her own room
“Hello, Willow?” Buffy said.
“Hello,” Willow’s taped voice said. “You have reached the room of the Wicked Witch and the samurai warrior, also know as Buffy’s and Willow’s room. If you are not currently running for your life, please leave a message, and we’ll get back to you. If you are, well good luck.”
“Will, it’s Buffy. I can’t talk long, but I won’t be coming home tonight. Don’t worry, everything is okay. I need to take care of some things. I’ll explain it all in class tomorrow. See ya.”
Crawling back into bed, Buffy said to Spike, “I’ve got to tell Willow.”
“Tell her what? ‘Red, I slept with Spike?’”
Buffy hit him on the head, “No. I’m not sharing this, but I meant the part about me staying here every night. Don’t you think my roommate will get suspicious if I never sleep in my own bed?”
“So you’ll stay here every night?” Spike asked propping himself up on an elbow.
She took a deep breathe, eyeing the sexy body next to her and realizing the trial this would be on her commitment and self-control. Could she spend every night and her weekends with Spike? Without going mad or going all the way? Was she willing to sleep in his bed for appearances only? For the sake of Eve and the future, she’d have to.
“I guess so. I still hate you.” She lay back down on her side, trying to pretend she was somewhere else. Anywhere but a few short feet from his hard masculine form.
“Fine,” he replied, turning of the light and laying back down. The Slayer was far too close to him for his piece of mind.
“Fine,” she answered shortly. And they tried to got to sleep, both acutely aware of the other within in touching distance. Buffy fought against her urge to roll over and wrap her arms around him, making his cold skin warm. Spike resisted his sudden desire to twine her hair in his hands and inhale that delectable vanilla scent from her neck. She buried her head in her pillow and tried to squash the impulses. He smashed his pillow a few times and attempted to ignore the call of his hormones. It was going to be a long night.
Buffy woke up in a very comfortable position. She felt very safe and warm with her arms twisted around . . . Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring directly into Spike’s sleeping face. She was on his side of the bed, burrowed up against his firm chest. His arms encircled her body, holding her close to him. Their legs were tangled together underneath the rumpled sheets. Fortunately all of her clothes were still in their proper places. Wiggling experimentally she tried to find a way to extract herself from her compromising position.
“Oh don’t do that, luv,” a sleepy voice rasped into her ear, and Spike rolled them over toward her side of the bed, tangling them even more in the sheet and each other. His hands began to trace little patterns on her back, and Buffy snuggled closer into their embrace. She had never know that newly awakened vampires were this amorous.
“So soft,” the voice said. “So sweet. So warm.” He started to pepper her neck with gentle little kisses. Buffy groaned in pleasure, and the hands responded by becoming bolder, slipping under her shirt. “Very warm.” The hands paused. “You can’t be warm.” Spike’s blue eyes flew open. “Oh, bugger it all! The Slayer!” He struggled ineffectually against the sheet. “I thought you were all innocent till you crawled over to my side at 4 a.m. This is all your bloody fault,” he wailed when he saw how ineffective his fight with the sheet was proving.
“It’s my fault? I didn’t wrap us in this sheet. It was all you.” Buffy said with difficulty, relishing his long lean length stretched out against her. She arched her back trying to put some distance between them but only succeeded in thrusting herself further onto his hips. A wave of pleasure swept over them both, and Buffy felt him hardening beneath her. She stared at his darkening eyes, her mouth half open in anticipation.
“Slayer,” he warned, “Don’t do that or things are about to become a whole lot more complicated in three seconds.” She licked her bottom lip very slowly, and he moaned, pulling her astride him. He was leaning forward intent on kissing her when the screams ran out.
He pulled back, "Shit.” He tried to disentangle himself. “Shit,” he repeated as he reached under his pillow to get something. A stake poked through the sheets, tearing a hole in it. Spike hastily tore apart the whole and scrambled out of bed, running to the guest bedroom.
She heard him yelp in pain and call out, “Dammit!” She hopped out of bed and entered the hall to see him smoking hands and all trying to force Eve’s door open. The acrid scent of burning flesh hung in the air, and Spike desperately attacked the door in an attempt to reach Eve.
Before he could damage himself farther, Buffy kicked him away from the door and opened it without any difficulty. Eve was sitting up on the white bed screaming her little heart out. Buffy picked her up and carried her into the living room past Spike who had been trying to cross the holy water and garlic.
“What is it Eve? Buffy asked stroking her hair.
Eve stopped screaming to look around wildly for Spike. “Daddy William!”
Spike limped over to the couch, putting an arm around the crying child. “What was it pet?”
“The bad men got you!” Eve cried even harder.
“No. See, they didn’t get me. I’m all here,” He winced. “Talk to Mommy for a minute. She’s here to help you too.”
Eve nodded and held onto Buffy’s arm until she felt less scared. Spike stood and lurched off into the bedroom. Buffy waited for a few minutes for Eve to finish calming down. Then she said, “Eve, can you set the table for breakfast? I’m gonna go check on Daddy William.”
“Okay,” Eve’s face changed like she was seeing around Buffy. “You are their Tool and I am their Voice.” She refocused on Buffy and scampered off to the kitchen.
Buffy found Spike fighting to wrap his bloody burned hands in white gauze. He was having alot of trouble since both his hands were gushing so much blood that he couldn’t get a good grip on the bandages.
“Let me.” Buffy commented tearing strips from the sheet Spike had trashed. “Next time, we take the couch.” She began using the strips to wrap his fists.
“No kidding,” he growled.
“I have Psych in like thirty minutes so I’ve got to go. After that I’m gonna fill Willow and Giles in on this whole Eve-is-a-seer thing.”
“You do that. And put an ad in the paper to, ‘Free eats at Spike’s house.’ Owww!” he exclaimed as she pulled one of his bandages particularly tight.
“Look, ‘Daddy William,’ I’m playing along with because the seer may save the world from whatever is up next. So I need my resident Watcher and Witch up to date.” She finished tying off the last bandage.
Spike looked down at his hands, “I liked those sheets.”
“You’re the one who ruined them. That’s why only Slayers are qualified to handle stakes.”
“I hate you.” Spike said, wishing he really meant it.
“I know. I’ve got to go.” Buffy strode toward the door. Spike watched her go.
“Okay Buffy, what’s up?” Willow asked following Buffy out of Professor Walsh’s Psych class. “Where were you last night!?”
“If I tell you, promise not to be mad.”
“Okay,” Willow agreed quickly.
Buffy braced herself, ”I spent the night at Spike’s.”
“BUFFY!!” Willow squawked.
“Shh! No, not like that. I was just at his house. This is gonna be a pretty long explanation, so just come with me to Giles’s.”
Willow hesitated for a moment. “You didn’t get any smoochies from him, did you? If you did, what about Riley? Or Angel? I mean, Spike is Angel’s childe and-”
“No, I didn’t get any smoochies from Spike!” Buffy said loudly in exasperation. Lowering her voice, she said, “Willow, this is a serious deal. Like the giant-principal-eating-snake serious deal.”
“Oh, that kind of deal. That means. . . we’ll probably be resorting to violence to solve this.”
“Something like that,” Buffy agreed. “Let’s go find Giles.”