Days in the Sun
January 15th, 2002 - Father
Watching the ashes fall to his feet, Spike twirled the stake in his hand. This was too easy, it was almost becoming boring. Almost, but not quite yet.
He had not hunted for a meal in just about three years now, and he sometimes missed it. Not feeding off humans, he had given up on that altogether. No, he was missing the hunt. Choosing a prey, observing it, sensing and seeing the fear in its eyes, the rush of power as the heart pumped blood faster into his demanding mouth, the exhilaration at the second the prey fell limp into his arms…
Shaking his head, he shoved the memories away. This time was long gone. He was now a different kind of hunter, hunting a different kind of prey.
To an outsider’s eyes, no difference was apparent. From his peroxide blonde hair to his heavy boots and passing by the black duster, he was the same Spike that had first haunted this town a few years back, intent on killing a third Slayer and finding a cure for his dark princess. Yet, if he still paced the dark alleys and cemeteries of Sunnyhell, his preys were now unliving creatures. A vampire staking vampires. Strangely, killing his brethren was just as satisfying as killing humans had been. Even more, in a way, because it made his Slayer proud.
As his thoughts drifted toward Buffy, he felt a surge of love in his unbeating heart. Two more vamps, he decided, and he would head on home to her. To them. Two more would make a round count of ten kills, a more than honorable number of deaths to celebrate the new life that had been born the previous night.
He froze mid-stride, wonderment filling him. He had a son… A son! Him! A creature that had been dead for more than a century was now the father of two very alive and very beautiful babies. One was a little over a year, the second had come to this world less than 24 hours before.
Sensing a vampiric presence behind him, he turned, stake and smirk ready to greet his ninth victim. The familiar features made him stop his attack. Oh, he had thought many times about getting rid of the annoying brooding poof once and for all. But he was pretty sure that particular kill wouldn’t earn him brownies points with Buffy, quite the contrary…
“Peaches. What are you doing in my town?”
The older vampire did not twitch at the address, nor at the claim and its implications. His town. His Slayer.
“I heard.”
“Heard what?”
Spike started walking, still focused on finding two more vamps to dust. Angel followed.
“Heard about your son.”
Slowly, Spike turned to his Sire, gripping the stake harder. He considered Angel’s expressionless face, and again thought about staking him. After all, who would tell her? No witness, no body, no crime. Except… It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t feel right.
“Who told you?” he hissed through clenched teeth, hoping with all his being it wasn’t Buffy.
“Willow. I asked her to let me know.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
Childe and Sire stared at each other. Except they weren’t that any more, were they? Angelus had been Spike’s Sire. Angel had rejected his past, his vampiric family, and run away. Such were Spike’s thoughts as he unblinkingly watched the brunette.
The sound of steps closing in broke the moment. They both turned at the same time toward the source of noise. Without a thought, Spike sprang forward, rushing noiselessly to the three unsuspecting fledglings. With graceful and efficient movements, he staked the first one before they even knew he was there to kill them. The other two tried to run away. He tackled one to the ground, and lost no time pushing the piece of wood through his chest. He jumped back to his feet, only to find that the last vamp was face to the ground, Angel’s foot squarely planted against his neck. Without a word, Spike threw the stake at him, and watched as he finished the kill before returning the weapon.
“Why are you here?” Spike asked again.
“I would like to see your son. If that’s ok with you.”
Spike’s eyes widened briefly in surprise before suspicion took over.
“You’re asking for my bloody permission?
“Yes.”
The word was said quietly, with no emotion piercing in Angel’s soft voice.
“Again, why? Why do you want to see him and why do you ask me?”
“He’s Buffy’s child and my Childe’s child. That answers both questions.”
Thinking about his Sire’s words, Spike started walking toward the cemetery’s exit. After a few steps, he realized that Angel hadn’t moved.
“You’re expecting a bloody invitation too?” he growled without turning or stopping.
Within a few strides, Angel had caught up with him and they walked in silence. Spike couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was taking his estranged Sire, who happened to be his lady’s ex-boyfriend, to see her and their infant son, just because the poof had asked. Spike knew Buffy loved him and was his. Yet he also knew she would be glad to see the other vampire, because, for all her denials, she still cared about him. And he was sure Angel more than cared.
“You still love her, don’t you?”
“I always will.”
“She’s mine!”
Spike’s growl was possessive and feral. Angel’s reply was cool and sad.
“I know.”
After a few seconds of tense silence, Angel asked: “What did you call him ?”
“William.”
The name had rolled easily on Spike’s tongue. There had been a time when he hated that single word more than anything, for it symbolized all that he had been. Now he was strangely happy that his (almost) human son wore his human name.
“Do you regret it?”
Spike gave a quick glance to his Sire without slowing down. “Regret what?”
“Having been turned.”
The answer was simple and required no thinking. “No. If for no other reason that I wouldn’t have known Buffy if you hadn’t finished what Dru started.”
They were coming in sight of the house. It was just a couple of blocks from Revello Drive, close to Buffy’s mom. A big house, surrounded by tall trees that blocked the sun from most windows. A large basement that he had started converting into a training room. Spacious kitchen, formal dining room, wood paneled living room and office on the first floor. Five bedrooms and three bathrooms on the second floor. An attic where they stored mostly weapons. A garage large enough for two cars, if Buffy ever learned how to drive.
“Do you regret it?” Spike asked as he was climbing the front porch steps.
“Regret what?”
“Turning me.”
The blonde vampire opened the door and stepped in the house, then looked back at his companion who had stopped just past the threshold. Angel was frowning, apparently lost in his thoughts.
“No,” he finally said. “There certainly have been times when turning you has seemed like the most uninspired thing I ever did. But overall, I don’t regret it. You were my favorite Childe. Still are. My son.”
If not for his acute vampire hearing, Spike wouldn’t have heard the last few words. As it was, he could barely believe he had heard them. Chastising himself for the stinging he felt in his eyes – he really was becoming a nancy boy! Next he would be asking for a bloody soul! – Spike turned to the kitchen where he was hearing noise, calling softly above his shoulder: “Come in, Angel.”
The microwave beeped and Buffy opened it, retrieving the baby bottle, her face briefly flashing distaste at the dark red, almost black liquid that filled it. A familiar tingling down her spine made her smile as she turned to the kitchen’s entrance. In two steps, she was in Spike’s arms, giving him a slow, deep kiss.
She would never tell him, as he would probably feel offended and pout, but she always was a little anxious when he went patrolling by himself, which he had been doing just about every night since he had come back to Sunnydale. He had been quite vocal in denying her the right to patrol, but had never given a true reason about doing it himself. She hadn’t asked him, he had just taken the job. She supposed he wanted her not to worry about leaving the town unattended, and in truth she was glad he was patrolling. A bit anxious, but glad. She would need to start working on him soon though, so he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when she’d resume patrolling. And she was going to patrol again, whatever he said. It was her duty, even if she hated that word. She felt responsible for Sunnydale’s relative safety, even more so now that her children were part of the town’s population.
As she broke the kiss, she realized they were not alone. A few steps back, looking at just about anything but them, was the last person she would have expected to see in town, let alone in their house. Angel had left Sunnydale a few months before, the same night Spike had come back, giving his goodbyes by phone. It seemed that the town was too small for these two to live in it at the same time. And still, there he was.
She raised a questioning eyebrow at Spike, and noticed he was studying her reaction.
“Peaches wanted to say hi and see William,” he said conversationally. “I’ll go get the nibblet.”
Before he left, he gently took the baby bottle from her hand. They had a non-verbal agreement that Buffy would give the milk bottles and Spike would take care of the blood ones whenever possible. Her gaze followed him as he climbed the steps, shedding his duster on the way. When he disappeared from her sight, she realized that Angel was staring at her. It was really awkward. She wasn’t so sure about how to break the silence, and it looked as if he didn’t know either.
“Congratulations,” he offered finally.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Again, the silence. What was left to say? Two lovers, later enemies, then friends again, but with that strain, that knowledge that it could have been so much more, if not for the curse. Oh, how she had hated him when he left after the Ascension! How she had loved him... What was left now? On her part, a deep respect, a real affection. She missed him, sometimes, but no more than she had missed Xander or Willow during her captivity. Her love for Spike and their children left little place in her heart for the older vampire. Dimly, she wondered whether Angel still loved her, before telling herself that he probably wouldn’t be there if he didn’t.
“Why are you here Angel?” she asked softly.
He gave her an hesitant smile. “I came to see your son. And it seemed like a good occasion to mend things. With you as well as Spike.”
She frowned at that. “Mend things with me? What do you mean?”
“I wanted to apologize for leaving you after your graduation. It was selfish from me to decide for you. Also, I 'm sorry for telling you Spike wasn’t good enough for you. I guess if you haven’t staked him by now, it means I was wrong. It was jealousy speaking.”
She blinked several times, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t imagining things. Before she could find anything to say, Spike was coming down the steps, the baby cradled in his arms. He gave her and Angel an amused look.
“Forgot your good manners, luv?” he chided gently. “Let’s show our guest to the living room, shall we?”
Nodding, she gestured for Angel to follow her. She was stunned by Spike’s behavior. The last time he and Angel had met, they had traded blows. Yet today, he brought the older vampire to their home, actually invited him in, was treating him like a guest, and was even handing William to him. What in hell was going on?
“He is beautiful,” Angel said softly.
Buffy smiled as she sat on the sofa, Spike settling behind her, a hand on her shoulder. For a couple of minutes, the only sounds were Buffy and William’s breathing. As she felt Spike move behind her, Buffy turned to him questioningly.
“Lisa is awake,” he said simply. “I’ll go see if I can make her sleep some more.”
For the last couple of months, they had been trying to get Lisa used to normal sleeping hours, but they often needed to lull her back into sleep during the night.
Strangely reluctant to be alone with Angel again, Buffy stopped her blonde vampire.
“I’ll go. You and Angel can talk.”
By the brief look that flashed through his face, Buffy guessed that he wasn’t as composed as he was trying to pretend. So, the Big Bad was nervous, uh? But about what? Not about Angel being here, certainly, or else he wouldn’t have invited him in. Nervous about talking with him, maybe? Still wondering, she went to her daughter’s room, truly wishing she could have vampire’s ears for just a few minutes.
Spike watched Buffy leave, all too aware of Angel’s eyes on him. She had abandoned him, there was no other way to put it. She had fled and left him to deal alone with his Sire. Not that he was afraid, of course. Why would he be? This was just Angel. Not worried, not at all. But still bloody uncomfortable.
“Why is it so difficult?” Angel asked quietly.
“What is difficult?”
“You and me. Just being in the same room.”
Spike only shrugged. Angel knew as much as he did. There had just been so much between them. So much love as well as hatred. So much to forgive, so much to forget, maybe too much, to ever be comfortable together again. Maybe.
“I’m sorry,” Angel said almost to low for Spike to hear. “Sorry for all the times I hurt you.”
Spike couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, and Angel chuckled lightly.
“Ok, maybe not all the times. You know what I mean.”
Unconsciously, Spike patted his pockets, looking for his fags, before remembering that he would be dust before he could light one. He had smoked his last cigarette the day, or rather night, he had been kidnapped. Roughly two years before. When they had escaped, Buffy had easily convinced him not to smoke around her or the baby, and since they were stuck in the house, that meant not at all. Of course, if her well-being was the only reason why he wasn’t smoking anymore, he would have started again after she had left him. But he hadn’t. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss it. He thought about it less and less, but every now and then, like that night, he was really tempted.
He realized that Angel was looking at him and expecting a reply.
“You sure have a lot to be sorry for,” he said with a forced smirk.
“I know.”
Angel’s gaze returned to the baby sleeping in his arms.
“I know how you can start to make up for all of it,” Spike said suddenly, a devilish smile playing on his lips. “You’re going to suffer with me and come to church.”
Angel’s eyebrows shot up at the words.
“Joyce insists for the bits to be baptized,” Spike explained. “Wanna be William’s Godfather? With such a poncy name, you had it coming!”
The idea of two vampires entering a church to watch Holy Water be poured on children seemed so weird that Spike couldn’t help chuckling. After a second, Angel joined in. When Buffy came back to the living room, they were still laughing together.
The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.