CHAPTER SEVEN:

/ Hush a bye baby, on the treetop /

/ When the wind blows, the cradle will rock /

Time.

She had lost all concept of it. Being with Little Spike was all that mattered at the moment. He needed her attention and she was intent on giving it to him. She had bathed, and fed and kept him happy. She had smiled more than she had ever thought possible. She had read to him, although she knew none of it made sense to him. She had sung to him, songs she had never thought she knew. Songs of memories long ago. Songs of a time when she had been…

/ Stop singing to her! I don’t want my baby listening to those songs, you hear me?! /

She shivered and clutched the baby tighter to her trembling body. She willed them to disappear…but they kept coming back.

/ Are you reading to her? You are going to corrupt her mind! No child of mine will read such things at such an age! /

The choking smell of burning pages. Sobs and pleadings filling her tender ears.

~ She burnt them all. She made me burn. ~

Hiccup!

She started and stared at the little one within her embrace. Baby was having the hiccups. Can’t have that now, can we? Humming to herself, she walked to the mini-kitchen. Opening cupboards with one hand, she fixed another bottle for him.

“Here you go…that should do the trick.”

She walked back to the rocking chair and sat on it. Closing her eyes, she dreamt of many wonders. Most of them filled with images of Little Spike and …

“Oh, no! Spike!” Her Spike!

She stared at the clock. She blinked in disbelief. Whatever would Spike say? And she hadn’t called him either.

“Oh, please do not start now. I have to leave, honest! I will come back tomorrow. I promise.”

Baby would not listen. His choked sobs gathered momentum, his creamy face now turning red in anger. He was going to wail. She just knew it.

/ Make it shut up! Shut the damn thing up, before I do it for you! /

“I will take him.”

She shook herself and spun around at the calm voice. Her eyes widened. It couldn’t be.

“Vi…Vi…Vicious?” It was a hushed voice filled with shock. Horror. Pain.

/ You will never leave me, will you, Vicious? /

/ Never my sweet, Faye. I will always be here for you. /

“Hai…Faye. It is I. May I have my child back, now?”

His child. Little Spike was his.

“NO!”

She tightened her hold against the sniffling mass of flesh, her eyes widening with fear. She took in those calm, almost dead eyes. Eyes she had once thought to be orbs of moonlight.

/ Not as good as my Spike’s. They will never be as warm. /

Vicious looked surprised, but quickly masked it behind the cool façade. He stuck his hands deep within the pockets of his black trench coat and allowed a small smirk to light his visage.

“I heard you married the writer.”

“So? I happen to love this writer…”

“The same way you loved me? Hmm, Faye? Are you so quick to jump from one man’s arms to the other?”

Her blood ran cold. He was calling her a whore.

“How dare you! How dare you speak to me in that way! I gave up the best two years of my life for you and what do I get in return? Nothing! You are a bastard!”

The smirk widened into a grin and then light laughter erupted from thin lips. “You always were passionate, my Faye.”

/ No more. /

“Don’t call me that. I belong to Spike now.”

He seemed to ignore her words. His eyes darkened and he walked steadily towards her. She backed away, the baby held in front of her like a shield. She could tell. He still wanted her. The two-timing fool.

“Stay back! Stay back, I am warning you! I will…I will scream for help!”

“Surely you are not all that repulsed by me now, are you? I seem to recall you enjoying my touches, ne, Faye?”

As if to prove his point, he reached out and traced a lean finger down the pale face before him. He stroked away a few loose purple strands and tucked them gently behind her ear.

She trembled. Her lips parting. Her breath coming out in harsh gasps. She couldn’t allow this to happen to her. Not again. She had been hurt too many times.

The baby wailed. He wanted his daddy.

“He wants you…” She whispered with an aching heart.

“You always did have such expressive eyes, my Faye.”

“He wants you.”

“You could always say things without opening that mouth of yours.”

“He needs you.”

“I have dreamt a thousand times over. What would it be like to taste your skin again?”

“The baby needs you, Vicious!”

And not waiting for his reactions, she thrust the baby towards him. She could vaguely hear his cries of protest as she scuttled around the apartment, picking up things that belonged to her. She could barely see. The tears were in the way. She froze as she heard the soft cooing. She blinked.

Vicious…was singing???

No. Not singing. More like soothing. Her presence completely forgotten, the tall white-haired man was walking around the large room, saying words of comfort to the agitated child. She wondered why she suddenly felt like killing him. He didn’t deserve this happiness. He didn’t deserve a child. He didn’t deserve…

“So this is where you two are!”

Mother came rushing into the room, heading straight for her family. She oohed and ahhed and ‘coochie-cooed’ and…

Faye felt sick.

“I must go now.” She was suddenly cold and angry.

The happy family turned towards her. “Won’t you stay for dinner?”

“No. I have a husband waiting for me.”

Cool gray eyes, eyed her stoic frame. “Hai…and a fine one he is, I am sure.”

Mother nodded cluelessly. She, obviously, was not very good at reading tensions in the air. “Well, then. I will be expecting you this Saturday evening, ne? At say, eight o’clock?”

Faye nodded and slipped into her jacket. She could feel Vicious boring holes into her back. “Don’t bother trying to escort me out the door. I can find my own way out, thank you. You both have a good night.”

“You too, sweetheart. Thank you ever so much for your help. My husband and I really do appreciate it.”

~ I am sure he does. ~

Fixing a plastic smile on her face, she walked out of the ‘museum’ and into her cold car.

She remained motionless for several minutes. Her mind spinning around in circles.

Eight-fifteen. Spike was going to be so angry.

~ Kami… ~

She thought with a heavy sigh, as she cranked the engine up and drove slowly down the wintry city streets.

~ How do I tell you about my past, Spike? The ghosts are catching up with me. One by one, day after day. I fear you might not love the real me, once you get to know her. ~

She was not as innocent as she looked…