Notes: this goes through Spike's POV's twice. ALSO ta= thank you, cuppa=cup of tea, tosser: jerk off, wanker, ta-tas= a walk generally (not always) with a small child . I think that's all the English slang I got questioned about. Baby Spike the Cow is in a radio soap show, on BBC Radio 4, called The Archers. She was Ed Grundy's but then he gave her to his grandfather, who gave it to Ed's younger brother William, much to Ed's chagrin.

Spoilers: for end of Buffy and speculation as to next season of Angel.

Rating- R for swearing

Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. Turkey Terrific belongs to the sandwich shop in the main square on Nantucket Island. This goes outside of Canon as Crush ended differently -- in my mind, he did stake Dru. Also -- In my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.

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           Morning came far too soon. It seemed I could not fight the Great God Dawn. Time moves like a river that can be forded but never stopped, not even by an ageless demon. Sorry, I'm waxing non-poetically like William. Cordelia came in toting doughnuts -- which were promptly dropped upon seeing the baby. I have no idea how she knew it was Conner: she just did.
           "My baby!" she said as she swooped him out of my arms, "how?"
           "Spike knew a spell," said Angel, way to drop me in it, Sire. But I saw pride in his eyes and thus said nothing.
          "Why?" asked a little, timid slip of a girl as she walked into the room.
           I smiled ruefully, "Drusilla wanted a second childhood. I *tried* to explain to her that she was undead and therefore could not change her age. I had to rent 'Interview with a Vampire' to convince her." I shuddered at the memory, "'cause the li'l girl can't change her hair."
           "Oh," she said with a slight bop, "I'm Fred by the way. I've heard so much about you!"
           What a happy little thing. Wesley walked in and made to make a formal introduction. "You're Wesley the Watcher Dog. You have quite a reputation in Sunnydale."
           "As a coward?" he asked bitterly.
           "As well meaning but overzealous. It's nice to put a face to the name. I'm sure you'll prove Fluffy and her cronies wrong: they generally are." I shrugged and nodded as if to say: well that's the way the bone crumbles.
           "It's nice to meet you too." He visibly brightened at my words. He was nothing like I expected: he wasn't a loser. A man apparently named Gunn walked in, waved and told Fred they were going to breakfast, and left again. Something about his indirect-directness made me instantly like him. They were a very accepting
group in that no one tried to stake me, unlike the Scoobies. I felt somehow welcome. "Cor," I said addressing the cheerleader, "commo upstairs, let's give Conner a bath; you can teach me. We'll leave the boys to deal with the customers." I said kissing Angel's cheek, "Have fun saving the world."
           We took the elevator to the fourth floor. On one side of Angel's room was Conner's room that the boy and Cordy had decorated six months ago. On the other side was his nursery that had only been decked out eight months ago. In the nursery's bathroom the Babybather Seat still sat in the tub. Cordelia saw me staring.
          "He was heart broken," she said softly. Her tone underscored her own pain, "Angel didn't want anything moved. He thought if things were changed then Conner wouldn't get home. He cursed himself for painting the room green, he said the fay people had taken him. You have no idea what you've given him." I just shrugged, "You really love him, don't you? Angel, not Conner. Well clearly you love Conner, how could you not love this baby?" she asked in a baby voice, kissing his forehead, and turning on the taps.
           "He's a beautiful, bonny, happy boy. Conner, not Angel. And yeah, I love Angel. With all my soulless being, I love him. Why?" I asked taking the baby from her as she poured baby bath into the water.
           "You're with him, right? I mean, clearly I can tell: I'm his best friend. So how can you be with him without the loss of his soul?" she asked sounding repentant for prying. The girl had grown up since high school.
           "You're a good friend, Cordelia. I can tell. It's great that you care. I'm glad to know that you were here taking care of him when I wasn't. Now as to how his soul remains. . . it's complicated. Ya see no matter how happy I can make him he is still miserable and there is nothing that will stop that."
           "Is there anything I can do?"
           I shook my head slowly. "No, just be there for him. He loves you, Cor," I said watching her as she sat the baby in the plastic chair. "You're good at this mum-ish stuff."
           "Not as good as Angel once he gets into his element. And you'll get really good. I've been watching you with the baby." She nodded slightly as if conceding to a point, "You're a natural."
           A blush would have covered my face had I been alive, "My father was a doctor, I always loved it when he delivered babies. I always wanted one. . . or five, of my own."
           Laughing the girl said, "Five? Believe me you, Conner when in a mood is harder to handle than five kids. But hell, you wanted one, you've landed yourself one." We both laughed as Conner splashed and then looked shocked when his face got wet.
           "Come on, Conner Wonner Moony Toony," I said as I pulled him out of the bath into a fluffy towel with a hood, I could tell Angel bought it: it was so poofy. Cordelia gave me a look. "What? My sisters were Lily Louly Girly Twirly and Olivia was just Olive. My brother was Christopher Wistopher Woozy Boy Boy. Conner needs a pet name."
           "And what was yours?"
           "Nothing rhymes with William so I was just Liam."
           "That's Angel's name!!"
           "Yeah, funny that." I said with a shrug as I dressed the baby, "Commo, Moony, let's get you a bockle-doo, maybe some nice warm milk will help you sleep."
           "And so the nickname is born." The beauty queen laughed.

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           ADHD would be defined as anything pertaining to my childe's actions. Deftly he bounced down the stairs while carrying the baby in one arm. "Moony, say hello to daddy." The baby said nothing and Spike shrugged. "Was worth a try." He shook the bottle he was holding in his other hand.
           "Moony?" I asked.
           He simply shrugged again and rolled his eyes. "You know my name on theory on nicknames, 'Gelus."
           "Babies die if not held and they don't feel loved without a epithet. So what is it -- Conner Fonner Moony Roony?" I hazarded a guess.
           "No, you dolt, nothing that dorky. Conner Wonner Moony Toony," he said and I shook my head slowly, my childe was such a. . . child. "Can I take him out? Please? Do you mind?" He started to jump up and down, he reminded me so much of who he'd been when just turned. "I thought we'd hit the park, look at ducks, he'd sleep, and I'd pick up chicks. The usual, nothing special. Ya know, except for the whole vampire in sunlight going ta-tas with the baby of two vampires."
           I smiled indulgently, "Have fun, don't cause trouble, no chicks." I threw him the ring.
           Wes made a face. For a horrible moment I thought he was going to object and say something. The fact was if he said something mean Spike would act like it didn't matter but it would hurt him. From what he said about his days in Sunnydale he had been badly mistreated by the humans and came away feeling like a tosser. I breathed a pointless sigh of relief when the man said, "Wait! There is this deli on the corner. Can I put in an order?" I was so relieved.
           "Sure."
           "They make this absolutely disgusting, messy, delicious sandwich with coleslaw and turkey."
           "A'right. Anyone else?"
           "Oh! I want a Turkey Terrific, but without mayonnaise." Cordelia smiled brightly.
           "Yer gonna make the Big Bad order somethin' called Turkey Terrific?" He pronounced the name with an American drawl. "You owe me, princess." He turned back to me, "We'll be home in an hour."
           "That's it?" I asked incredulously. He was planning on going to the park, seeing the ducks, and getting food in an hour? ADHD.
           He nodded, "Maybe an hour and a half." He placed Moony in his carriage. Kissing my cheek again he pulled my wallet out of my back pocket. "Ta, love," he said with a smirk and left pushing the carriage and singing a new verse of Early One Morning, loudly.
          Me boy came home two hours later and instantly handed the baby to me. "Cup o' tea? Cup o' tea?" he asked looking 'round. Gunn and Fred shook their heads while Cordy held up three fingers to show she wanted three sugars but could not talk through her mouthful of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and wry bread. "A sweet for my sweet," he responded. "Wesley?" Wes paused. "Go on," egged Spike. "You aren't putting me to any trouble."
           "Go on then," conceded Wesley. It was the most English discourse ever to be had in the hotel. "Ta. No sugar and a splash of milk, please."
           "Angel, sugar and a half?"
           "As always." I laughed looking up from the baby to smile at my boy.
           Ten minutes later he was back with a tray. "Black," he said handing the cup to Wesley. "You, me," he placed ours on the counter. "Baby style for Delia and a bottle for Moon."
           "You can't give a baby tea!" Cordy said indignantly.
           "Of course you can!" replied Spike and I in unison.
           "Maybe in your day you could but not now. It's totally archaic!"
           "Like adoration," muttered Spike sitting beside me.
           "It's not archaic. It's English, and it's perfectly acceptable. Everyone does it. It's warm, sweet, and comforting. My mum did it!" said Wes as tough that alone would clinch the argument.
           "You guys are so weird!" she said. Note that she says this because we give tea to a baby, *not* because we work for the PTB or that we subsist on blood. "If I didn't have the visions and Conner keeping me here I would totally have *way* cooler friends." We all laughed and drank tea as we did the filing that had piled up around the office.
           I leant over and kissed Spike's forehead as I handed him the baby and focused on my cuppa. Caffeine would perk me up, I was dead on my feet. . . well I'm always dead on my feet, but now I was tired too.
           Conner drank him tea and then fell back to sleep in Spike's lap. When sucking his thumb didn't satisfy, he pulled Spike's thumb into his mouth. Both the girls gasped and reacted in assorted girly ways. Smiling I said in Gaelic, "You have competition for your own thumb." He smiled sheepishly at me acknowledging that, yes, William the Bloody did still suck his thumb.
           "It's ok," he said in Gaelic, "he can have my right hand. I'm left handed, don't forget."
           "I remember eating the sword smith who made you your left-handed sword." I said with a small smile. Things had been so simple back then. In some ways I wished I could go back to that blissful ignorance, but then I wouldn't be sitting with my son and childe. Having a soul is weird -- it doesn't stop me from wanting all those nights of bloodshed, it just makes me fell badly about wanting them.
           "His blood had far too much iron." We both laughed at the pathetic joke.
           "Am I goin' mad or are they talkin' foreign?"
           "It's Gaelic, Irish some call it," replied Wes. "I know just enough to know that I have no desire to understand what is being said. Moreover I think I shall be wearing turtlenecks for the next few weeks."

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           Everyone laughed again. It was nice, odd. Never had there been this much pointless laughter. And I had yet to get even a sideways look from any of Angel's humans. Here I was apparently accepted into the group without having to prove anything. Somewhere in the back of my head a voice said, "You're happy with them feeling safe around you? You're a soulless, chipless demon. Act like it. Break Cordelia's neck -- you like her but she's a better meal than a conversationalist. They're cattle, you can name a cow Baby Spice but you still slaughter it." But then Angel smiled at me and I felt the voice suddenly say in a petulant tone, "I still think you should kill
her. . . god, look at him when he's not miserable. I should write some poetry, OH FUCK, I did not just say that. Bugger off!"
           The baby sucking my thumb bit down hard and sucked the blood from my wound. "Like father, like son," I muttered. No one save Angel heard me. He smiled.