A/N: I'm really really sorry about the long delay in updating this story. It seems RL doesn't like when I concentrate too much on other things and comes back with a vengence *sigh*

I don't want to promise anything, but I hope it won't take that long to finish the next chapter. Thanks so much to everyone who hasn't given up on me yet.


As always a big "Thank You!!" to the fabulous BloodyTearsOfLife who makes sure everything is actually readable and makes sense as well :D


A/N 2: I forgot to mention this in the last chapter (and it isn't really important for this one) but Tara and Willow haven't met yet. They will later on in the story, though.


Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain






Chapter 2

~*~



Buffy felt her heart break for the little lost creature in front of her, while he continued to look up at her with his wide, frightened eyes. His lower lip was wobbling as he tried to be brave and not cry. He rubbed at his eyes occasionally and even in the dim light she could see that they were red in a way that only copious amounts of crying brought with them.


She was nearly overwhelmed by the wave of protectiveness and fierce possessiveness that slammed into her. Something from deep inside screamed at her to rush to his side, to make sure he was okay, and most importantly to painfully bring down any threat that sought to harm him.


She refused to believe that something that vulnerable and obviously terrified could be anything but pure innocence. She didn't waste a single thought on the theory that he might just be playing on her protective feelings and compassion in an attempt to get her to abandon her usual caution, to come closer and walk right into a trap.


Her mind made up and her earlier apprehension gone, the blonde slayer stepped closer. She had to get him out of the cemetery first, then she could start worrying about finding his 'mother'. She slowly approached him and crouched down in front of his sanctuary, holding out her hand for him to take.


"No sweetie, I'm sorry, I'm not your mommy. I'm Buffy." She threw him a warm smile and said in a soothing voice, "Why don't we get out of here, hm? We could look for her together."


The boy regarded her thoughtfully, chewing on his bottom lip between the occasional sniffles. Buffy really hoped she'd gained his trust, because she didn't know how frequently those soldier guys patrolled this part of the cemetery and the last thing she needed now was a confrontation with them.


As if reading her thoughts, his eyes widened a little more. "The bad men are looking for me," he whispered fearfully.


"It's okay," she reassured him. "I won't let them get you."


He seemed to consider the sincerity of her statement for an agonizing couple of moments. When he apparently had found what he was looking for, he shot up from his sheltered position beneath the once white marble wings to leap into her outstretched arms.


Startled, Buffy tensed for the fraction of a second, her slayer senses going into overdrive as they suddenly registered a vampiric signature in such close proximity.


He went right for her throat.


'How could you have been so utterly foolish? To let a vampire, no matter the size, this close. Without a chance to defend yourself, your guard completely down? Didn't you learn anything?' , the little voice inside her head, that sounded decidedly British and Giles-y, continued to berate her in a taunting tone.


But the anticipated sting of his fangs tearing savagely into the sensitive flesh to drain her of every last drop of blood never came. Instead she felt the cool puffs of his breath tickling the little hairs on the side of her neck as he nuzzled against her. Little whimpers and muffled sniffles and sobs drifted through the crisp night air.


Buffy visibly sagged with relief, and letting out the breath she didn't know she had been holding, she chided herself for being such a fool and doubting her prior judgment.


She embraced him tightly and rubbed her hands in slow soothing circles over his back, offering whatever comfort she could to the distraught little vamp in her arms.


He had finally seemed to calm down and she was about to get up, when faint shouts and the the sound of a tussle carried over to them. She didn't need to hear what they were saying to recognize the voices belonged to the commandos that were barging in on her territory and trying to do her job once again. She wouldn't have minded giving them a piece of her mind along with a little demonstration what a Slayer was capable of, but that would have to wait. Her first priority was to get the kid to safety.


Buffy's brows furrowed in concern as she noticed the boy in her arms tensing up, almost desperately clinging to her, before he went completely still. Even though he had been weeping, albeit quietly against her shoulder, no sound was now coming from him and his seemingly unnecessary breathing had stopped as well. The fear was rolling off of him in waves and she could feel his terror with every fibre of her being. It cut right into her soul.


What had those bastards done to him to evoke such a reaction? She didn't know why she cared so much, but she did. She silently vowed to make anyone pay who had a part in this. Painfully.


She hurriedly stood up and continued to murmur soft nothings into his ear as she made her way out of the cemetery in the direction of her watcher's home



~*~*~*~



The blonde slayer and her companion, who had fallen asleep as soon as they had left the gates of the graveyard behind, made their way through town in the direction of Giles' apartment. He would know what to do.


While she went on in a fast but inconspicuous pace, Buffy thought back to the only other two times she had faced a vamped kid.


The Anointed One


An involuntary shudder raced down her spine as she recalled the pure malice that had filled his eyes. Even though her recollection of both encounters was rather fuzzy.


The first time had been when he had led her into the Master’s liar, but she hadn't been paying much attention to her guide back then. What with her death at the Master’s fangs being decided by some higher powers and her watcher and kinda possible boyfriend trying to keep that little fact a secret. No, she had been far too confused, frightened, and angry at the betrayal of those close to her to pay the small demon any notice.


The second and last time she had met him hadn't been under any better circumstances. The night he had tried to resurrect the Master.


Much like the first time, she only recalled the thunderstorm of emotions that had been raging through her at the time. She had still been horribly shaken up by her death, drowning in a puddle of water and absolutely freaked out by the prospect of facing her killer once again, should that crazy vamp cult succeed.


Her friends , especially Xander, hadn't been any help either and her entire focus had been stopping the Master from entering their plane of existence ever again.


Even if her recollection of those meetings was hazy at best, one thing was for sure: the Anointed One was nothing like the little lost boy that had fallen asleep on her shoulder as soon as the threat of the soldiers was gone. The Anointed One may have tried to act like a kid his age but he hadn't been able to hide his true intentions from that part deep within her that made her the Slayer. No, even as he had smiled seemingly innocently at her, his malevolence had clung to him, curled around him, reaching out in black tendrils invisible to normal sight that tried to latch onto your soul to corrupt you as well.


But she couldn't sense anything like that from the little vamp in her arms. Only that all encompassing feeling of kinship, almost like some kind of connection between them.


And since when could she actually sense if someone or something was evil? She so had to talk to Giles about that.



~*~*~*~



Spike sat on Giles' couch completely bored, flipping through the channels aimlessly as he tried to find something decent to watch on the watcher's small television set. At least he wasn't chained to the tub any more. Bloody uncomfortable.


Would someone have told him last year, hell even just a few months ago, that he would be sitting in his mortal enemy's surrogate father’s flat, drinking pig’s swill from a novelty mug and being practically house broken and totally useless, he would have laughed into their face and then ripped their throat open to watch the blood cover everything in its immediate proximity in a brilliant sheen of red.


The blonde vamp growled in frustration and flung the remote onto the couch. He stalked over to the front door, his hand poised just inches above the knob. He contemplated throwing the door open and making good on his escape from this hell hole. Leave this godforsaken town and the infuriating bitch of a slayer behind.


He could go back to South America, find some demon doctor and get rid of his electronic leash, that bloody piece of plastic those government wankers had shoved into his brain.


For a moment, he got lost in his fantasies of blood and gore and all the wonderful violence he would unleash once he was free again. He had to actually leave for them to come true though.


His mind made up, Spike reached for the handle when another thought pushed its way through the dreams of carnage and havoc yet to be wreaked. He snatched his hand back as if burned, barely in time before it made contact with the smooth steel. The witch had done some mojo to the entrance of the watcher’s flat, something that was supposed to prevent him from escaping again. A spell specifically for him, woven with a sample of his blood and all.


"Balls!" he ground out, nearly growling. He ran a hand through his hair to shake off his uneasiness and, unable to contain his agitation, started pacing. His fidgiting freed some of the soft curls that had been carefully slicked back as to not deceive the big bad persona, but now bounced lightly on his forehead.


He didn't want to risk getting caught in one of Red's spells again if he walked through the door now, no matter how much the Slayer and her merry band of do gooders drove him up the bloody wall with their ‘holier than thou’ attitude. He didn't fancy to be turned into a toad or worse if her mojo went wrong again, which was highly likely if one considered her latest forays into the world of magic.


One would have thought she was too smart to be that naive when it came to manipulating the supernatural forces. There were always consequences.


That meant he was stuck. Throwing his hands up in defeat, Spike snarled at the door. He even gave in to the childish urge to shift into game face to spit some foul curses at the unsuspecting wooden barrier.


It was all Buffy's fault... the Slayer, not Buffy. The Slayer's fault. He should have never come back.


Come back to finally kill the only slayer that had faced him and was still among the living. The one whose pretty neck he just couldn't snap like a dry twig. Whose blood seemed to taunt him whenever he was near, rushing through that luscious body of hers, begging him to take just a little sip without ever coming near his fangs, let alone his taste buds.


He groaned and felt the pressure of his fangs as they eagerly pressed against the gums at the thought of sinking into her supple flesh, her warm blood running over his tongue, gliding down his throat as it set his nerve endings ablaze with its heavenly flavour. Slayer’s blood. There was nothing on this Earth that could compare with the blood of a slayer. He bet his slayer’s blood tasted like ambrosia, especially compared to the foul taste of the pig’s swill they were feeding him.


He shook himself out of it before he started to drool and remembered that he was pissed at the petite blonde. That annoying little chit with her stupid gleaming golden locks that seemed to be spun right of the sun’s deadly rays...


"Argh..." he snarled once again in frustration and stalked over to the shelves where he knew his fellow Brit kept his secret stash of liquor.


He really needed a drink.


~*~*~*~


Spike gave a triumphant shout having finally located a bottle of the watcher's finest when suddenly the prickling sensation at the back of his neck alerted him to the presence of an approaching slayer and someone that felt like family. The alcohol was momentarily forgotten as he tried to figure out who could be with the tiny blonde bane of his existence, and more importantly why.


There weren't that many members of the house of Aurelius that would register that strongly. In fact, there were only two left. The great poof and his nut case of a sire; but it didn't fell like any of the two. What the hell was going on?


He turned just in time to see the Slayer in question struggling through the now open front door, calling for her watcher. In her haste to get the littlle boy to safety and some answers from Giles, Buffy hadn't thought about the fact that he needed to be invited. She stopped abruptly and looked between the bundle in her arms and the door in confusion. It shifted slightly in her embrace. That was when Spike noticed that it seemed to be a person. A kid. A kid that practically screamed family to his demon.


"Spike, where is Giles?" Buffy directed at the blond vampire that was still staring at her, a puzzled frown marring his features.


She took in the scene before her. Rumpled bookshelves, a surprisingly full bottle in his grip that hung forgotten at his side. He had broken into Giles' liquor cabinet... again. What was it with the Brits and their alcohol?


"Spike?" she repeated somewhat impatiently. That seemed to snap him out of his trance.


"Huh?" was all that came from the otherwise chatty blonde. His eyes still fixated on the kid in her arms. Her grip on the boy tightened ever so slightly, before she realized what she was doing. 'It's only Spike, it's not as if he could actually harm anyone,' she reminded herself and relaxed, somewhat unsettled by the strong urge to protect her charge.


"Giles. Where is he? I need to talk to him about some stuff," she replied as she carefully transferred the peacefully sleeping child onto the couch.


"Rupes said he had to run an errand. Didn't say what time he was going to be back."


Buffy run her hand absent mindedly through the little boy's soft dark blond curls from her position on the arm of the couch and let out a frustrated sigh. She needed some answers and she wanted them quickly. She really needed Giles for that.


"Where'd you get the pint sized one, slayer? Didn't know you were the motherly type," he lightly teased his slayer while he watched her interact with the kid, a far away look on her face.


He stepped closer to the couch to get a better look at the peculiar child. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when its eyes suddenly flew open and he was pinned with a burning amber gaze that stared at him from a miniature game face. The little demon only uttered a single word before he fell promptly back into his deep slumber.


"Sire."


Through his shock he saw Buffy's head shoot up and swing around to face him, her eyes narrowing dangerously.


'Uh oh, that can't be good.' Spike barely had time to process the implications of that rather simple statement and slip into a state of utter and complete confusion, let alone admire the the way his slayer’s eyes darkened with fury, her gaze burning right through him glittering with unsuppressed rage before she flew upon him.


'Bugger...'


____________

TBC...





PS: The kid needs a name, and I just can't decide which one to take. So I made a poll. It would be absolutely fantastic if you could spare a minute and vote here. Thanks!!