Father of the Brat

Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with Buffy. It all belongs to Joss Whedon. I just borrow it. I'm not making any money from this, it's purely for fun.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed Buffy's Faith moment in the last chapter! It was a result of getting stress for RL out and wanting Buffy to give Spike a taste of his own medicine, along with the fact that I just happened to be watching the episode Who Are You from season four. Now, you'll be glimpsing the softer side of Spike in this but he's not always going to be like that. Why? Because he's Spike and he likes to push. LOL. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter folks and please review!

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A few weeks later and Spike could feel a major headache coming on. Scratch that. It was here. And he desperately wanted something to drink. As a matter of fact, if Dawn hadn’t been standing in front of him he would’ve been getting to know his old friend Jack again.

He really didn’t understand it. Everything had been going so well it seemed. And now this. What were they even arguing about? He thought quickly.

Right. Dating. Going out with friends. That kind of thing. He shook his head.

“No.”

“Whatawn awn burst out. Spike fought the urge to once again roll his eyes.

“I said no. You’re not bloody well going out on a date with a boy I’ve never met.” He told her. “Not happening.”

“And why not?” she demanded.

“I thought I covered it with the ‘boy I’ve never meart.art. But just in case I didn’t, let’s put it this wa kno know nothing about him. He could be a serial killer or a…a rapist, for all I know.” Spike crossed his arms. He thought that was perfectly fine logic if you asked him. Dawn let out a sound of disgust.

“Connor is perfectly nice. He’s probably the only guy at that school that actually has a brain.” She told him. Spike raised an eyebrow.

“Well, good for him. When he shows me that he has a brain, by coming to meet me, then we’ll talk. Until then, forget it.”

Dawn narrowed her eyes at him as she yanked on her jacket. “You blow.” She stated flatly before storming out of the apartment, the door slamming behind her.

Spike stared at the door for a full minute in shock. Had she really just stormed out on him? Who stormed out anymore?

Spike made a frustrated sound as he dropped onto the couch. He’d just wait it out. This was just like the other times they’d had a fight. She’d leave for a couple of hours and then come back. Somehow, things worked out.

Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back.

Hell of a day.

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Spike eyes flew open as he shot into a sitting position. He’d fallen asleep on the couch earlier. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he rubbed a hand over his face and glanced at the clock.

He froze and turned away from the clock before slowly turning back, double-checking to be sure he had the right time.

It’d been hours since Dawn had left. Way more than just a couple of hours. No, it was now pretty late in the evening.

Dawn still hadn’t returned.

Spike took a deep breath and told himself not to panic. Dawn was just out for a while. She was cooling off. She was a big girl, she could handle herself.

So there was nothing to worry about.

To hell with that. He was worried and he wanted to know where she was. Now.

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“Buffy!” Spike called as he knocked on the door. When there was still no answer, he frowned and looked down at the card in his hand. He had the right address. So where was she? She was usually home by now. He knew that for a fact because he’d taken advantage of it by calling and bugging her. Well, of course, if you went by what he had said to her the first time he’d called, he supposed it could be said that he’d been propositioning her.

He knocked again andppedpped back a bit, waiting to see if she’d answer the door. His frown deepened as he continued to stare at the door. Finally, he got tired of waiting and decided to try the door himself.

He reached out and looked a little worried when the knob turned easily in his hand and the door opened. He glanced around as he stepped inside and found nothing that seemed to be really out of place. Although, he really wouldn’t be able to tell since he’d never been there before in his life. But when he thought about it, the house reminded him a bit of the house that Buffy had lived in with her mom.

It was cozy. An actual home.

Maybe that was one of the reasons he felt so comfortable and at home here so quickly.

Spike shook his head to clear his head and walked further in, closing the door behind him. He continued to look around as he turned right.

And stopped.

There was Buffy, lying on her couch, eyes closed. Without thinking, Spike rushed forward and put his hands on her shoulders. The wave of fear that came over him caused him to move faster than he would’ve normally.

“Buffy!” he exclaimed, giving her a slight shake. His eyes searched her face as he shook her once more and he let out a sigh of relief as she groaned and shifted. Her eyes slowly opened and she blinked a few times as she tried to focus.

“Spike?” she asked.

Spike let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah, love, it’s me.” Then he frowned down at her. “Don’t do that to me ever again! I think my heart bloody well stopped for a bit.” He stopped suddenly and glanced down at her. Something wasn’t right. She looked different. He studied her before glancing around the room and stopping once his gaze landed on the table. He turned back to her as it all fell into place.

“Bloody hell, woman! You’re drunk!”

Buffy groaned and put a hand to her head. “Could you not talk so loud? It’s bad.” She muttered.

Spike pushed himself to his feet and grabbed what was left of the margarita off the table, walking in the direction of what he hoped was the kitchen. Because either way, that’s where the glass was going.

He got lucky and found the kitchen on the first try. Spike shook his head as he saw the counter. There was the blender, less than halfway full of margarita mix. So Buffy had set out to get plastered tonight. Why? He shrugged and put the glass in the sink, dumping the rest of the margarita out. Next went the pitcher.

Once that was done, he began opening cabinets until he found the glasses and then the aspirin. Thinking about it, he decided that he should check out her refrigerator in case she wanted something to eat. He’d think about why he’d been so afraid for her later. When she hadn’t had a nice solo party and his daughter wasn’t out on the town.

“Oh, gross, Buffy.” He muttered. “Even I throw out the leftovers after ten days.” He wrinkled his nose at the pizza box and closed the door. Instead, he just grabbed the aspirin and water and headed back into the living room.

Buffy was sitting up now, trying to support her head with her hands. She figured if she did that, then maybe it wouldn’t fall off. If she was lucky.

Spike knelt down next to her and held out the aspirin and water. Buffy could’ve kissed him. Gratefully, she took each and quickly swallowed them.

He waited until he was sure she had completely swallowed before nodding and standing up. “Better?” he asked. She nodded. “Good, now why don’t you tell me what made you decide to have a little fun with the alcohol?”

She shook her head. “How about I not, you pretend I did, and then you go away?” she suggested. Spike narrowed his eyes.

“Not going to work, love. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Spike…”

“Look, I’m not leaving until you help me out with my problem and I’m not letting you help me until you tell me what’s wrong with you. So you might as well just tell me or prepare for me to move in. Take your pick.” He crossed his arms and looked down at her expectantly. Buffy let out a sigh and covered her face with her hands.

“I couldn’t save him.” She said softly. Spike frowned and sat down next to her.

“What was that, love?” he asked. Buffy let out a shuddering breath, trying to fight back the feeling that she had failed and the tears that would inevitably follow.

It didn’t work.

She lifted a tear-stained face to Spike and shook her head. “I couldn’t save him Spike. He was only seven years-old and I couldn’t save him.” She said. Spike put a hand on her cheek.

“What happened?”

“A little boy. He was one of my cases.” She paused. “I didn’t even get to talk to him or the parents. His teacher at school had noticed bruises on his arms and then on his legs as well during PE so she reported it. The nurse thought it was unusual for a boy to get that many bruises as well. I…today was the day I was supposed to go and visit the family. But today was too late. I found out earlier today. The little boy died. He was beaten to death.” She closed her eyes as if to shut out the thought and took in a breath before she turned her face into Spike’s shoulder. Automatically, his arms went around her and he pulled her closer. This was what broke her and she started to sob into his shoulder.

Spike began to rub his hands up and down her back softly, trying to give as much comfort as he could.

Buffy barely registered the movements as she sobbed out all the stress, guilt, and anger that had been building up these past few weeks and had overflowed with the grief for a child she had never met. Once she started, she just couldn’t seem to stop. Dimly, somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that this was the first time in weeks that she and Spike had actually spoken without some kind of innuendo passing between them.

Finally, the tears slowed down and she began to take deep calming breaths. Eventually, the tears stopped altogether and loo looked up into his eyes, a bit wary about what she’d see.

She saw nothing but concern.

He looked down at her, his eyes searching her face, for what he didn’t know.

What he saw was exhaustion.

Spike cupped her face in his hands and said nothing for a moment as he continued to stare at her. When he did speak, it was in a whisper.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Buffy.” She began to shake her head in denial but before she could say anything, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

This kiss was different than before. Very different. Soft, tender, and careful. Spike didn’t demand this time, he didn’t just take. No, this time it felt almost as if he were asking permission. This was a kiss meant to comfort, not arouse. Buffy made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

It may not have been meant to arouse but it was certainly doing so. So, she supposed Spike was accomplishing more than he had set out to do.

Mindlessly, she moved forward, her hands slid up his chest. Spike pulled back, hands on her shoulders to hold her iace.ace. She looked up at him, confused.

“Spike?” she asked. He shook his head.

“Much as I want you Buffy, I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He smiled down at her and pushed a strand of her hair back. “When it happens…I don’t want you to have any doubts.” He let go of her and stood up as Buffy nodded, closing her eyes and scrubbing her hands over her face. He was right. Now was not the moment to be making this decision.

And this side of him wasn’t something she was used to experiencing. It would take some getting used to. She looked up at him and then stood up to face him.

“Alright, Spike.” She licked her lips as she ran a hand through her hair. “You said you had a problem. What is it?”

“Dawn’s missing.” he said flatly. Buffy’s eyes widened and she seemed to just snap to attention.

“What?” Spike sighed.

“She left earlier today and she hasn’t come back since. I’m…worried about her.” He shifted uncomfortably. “We, uh, we kind of had a fight before she left.”

Buffy tilted her head to the side. “What did you fight about?”

“I wouldn’t let her go out with Connor.” He replied. She raised an eyebrow.

“Who?”

“Connor. But that’s not the point.” He looked down at her and worry began to creep into his voice. “The point is I haven’t seen her since she left. Now come on Summers, are you going to help me or not?”

Buffy nodded. That was all she needed to know. “Alright.” She said. “Let me get dressed in actual clothes and we’ll go.”