by Isabelle

Disclaimers: All BTVS characters do not belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and are franchised by UPN. The book Les Miserables was written by Victor Hugo and is used only for entertainment purposes--the plot of these series has nothing to do with the author's novel. All songs/poems/quotes used in the chapter will be disclaimed in each individual chapter.

Summary: Set after 'The Grave'--the season 6 season finale.

Rating: Eventually NC-17 (yes, sex--with naughty words and lovely imagery) so if it's not your cup of tea there's the door. Also, I curse a lot when I write, it's all part of my emotionalism.

Distribution: I cannot say this enough and still people post my stuff without permission UNLESS YOU ASK YOU'RE NOT GETTING--DO NOT POST OR DIRECT LINK WITHOUT PERMISSION. The only sites that have prior permission to post my work is Carnal Sins (cause it's mine), Only Time, and Death Marked Love. (archives like fanfiction.net and BSC don't count)

A/N: Heller--thank you as always for the beta. *g* Also, if you're a spelling nit-picker you might not like my fiction so scamper off and don't list all the spelling mistakes, I'll just delete your email--sorry but I don't get paid to write, got no time to make it spick and span. Also, this is a new style of writing that I have yet to see--it's a POV writing but it's not anyone in the cast, it's my POV. I am the one who sees the things happening, weird? Just read. *g*

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Buffy glared down at the nasty dirty piece of cloth in her hands, then looked over to Sarah’s sleepy face. All innocent and unknowing, small and defenceless.

Defenceless her ass—she hadn't smelled such a nasty thing in like—ever. Not even that mucus demon she fought last month compared to this.

Ugh.

Sarah kicked her feet slightly, uncomfortable with her position, waiting patiently for her mother to finish her job.

“That was very unladylike.” Buffy told her, glaring at the cloth once more.

Sarah smiled at her and laughed, as if she understood what Buffy was saying.

“This is not funny—I tell the maid to leave you all to me and you poop—ALL over.”

More laughing from the baby.

“When you have kids of your own you’ll understand what I’m going through,” the slayer scowled at her, proceeded to wrinkle her nose and drop the dirty cloth in a sac.

Sarah tried to turn on her side to crawl away but Buffy held tight to one of her chubby legs, making the baby cry.

“Ok, hold on, I’m almost finished, I swear,” she tried to compromise with the baby, taking out the tin of baby powder and cream.

She dipped the small cloth in the warm water and proceeded to clean Sarah's bum free of the sticky brown...stuff.

I cringed, that stuff smelled awful, I wondered how such a small person could produce such a large piece of shit.

"Why does it smell like that?" James asked Buffy, coming up next to her and looking over at his crying sister.

"It's poop, you poop also." she told him but really not understanding herself why it would smell so awful.

James glared at the baby who was currently getting her bum powdered more than was necessary.

"Mine does not smell like that...." he looked over at Buffy. "Why are you doing this? You never take care of Sarah."

Buffy sighed, trying to figure out how to pin the new diaper to Sarah. "Mmmm...I told you I changed, I'm not the same."

James looked saddened at this. "Then where is my mommy?"

Buffy finished with Sarah and quickly took her in arms to calm her down. "C'mere." she told James, taking his small hand and leading him to the rocking chair.

She placed Sarah on her lap, unbuttoned the top of her nightgown and freed her right breast, Sarah was more than grateful for the food, she latched on and sucked like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't know, James. I don't know where your mom is...but until she comes back..." she sighed and looked down at him. "...would you take me as your mommy...until then, at least."

James smiled happily at her, it seemed that this was pleasing to him. "Ok!" he walked close to her and cuddled next to her. Buffy gladly held him closer next to her as they both watched Sarah slowly fall asleep in her mother's arms.

----------------

All of Spike's living, pumping, blood drained from his face. All he could think was to run out the door, grab Buffy and kids and run like hell.

A fucking revolutionary! Him! Fighting for a cause other than love, blood and violence.

He felt faint.

"Lord Caldwell, are you well? You seem pale," the man next to him asked. He nodded slowly.

"I think...I might be coming down with something," he said softly, taking deep breaths.

"Well...we'll cut this meeting as short as we can, I assure you, M'lord," the man next to him patted his arms. Spike looked at him gratefully.

Behind us, Skinny was trying to regain his posture as Rochester looked at him with interest.

"This information comes as a surprise to you, Mr...Skinny?"

Spike cursed inwardly, this guy was too smooth and Skinny was...too clumsy. "Let him be, we all know our friend the Skin is a bit on the clumsy."

Rochester turned his glare towards Spike. "Always defending the colonials, William. Like you defend all of the colonials...like Lizzy."

Spike's jaw hardened. He could clearly see why his other-self had chosen this man as his enemy, if he was still a vampire he would consider torture instead of a quick death.

That single thought...lashed at him.

Faces of people that he had successfully repressed flashed through his mind. A little girl with her mother dressed in their Sunday's best, walking merrily down the darkening street.

Golden curls, down her back as she laughed with her mother. Then blood, agony and guts. Dru liked girls that were dressed as dolls. He liked to get them for her.

That little girl has been their little doll for a day and a half.

She had died. Never reached 15 and had her first kiss, never gotten married, never had children. All because of him.

He gulped back tears and fought the urge to run out the room, run away and hide, behind a rock or a boulder, behind somewhere that would make him forget. Somewhere where he could bash his head against the wall until it bleed all the memories from him. Bled them into a puddle of love and hate, of hope and destiny, of vengeance and death.

"I...I have to...go," Spike said, almost running out of the room.

"Caldwell! We're not finished with this meeting!" Rochester called after him, his face turning a deep shade of red.

But Spike wasn't listening, he wasn't thinking, the only thought in his head was run--run like crazy.

Run and go to hell.

---------------- ----------------

After she had set Sarah to sleep (avoiding all the incredulous stares from the maids) she got comfy in her bed...and soon it was invaded by a sleepy James who had a nightmare.

She let him cuddle up close to her, smelling his hair and kissing his forehead. In actuality... she couldn't sleep. By the light of the dying candle she studied his face.

He was a mini-Spike. Which made everything all the more complicated and weird. This was Spike and her child. Their product of...love? She shook her head, these thoughts were about 100% more complicated than what Buffy liked to think of. Bad Buffy. He sniffed in his sleep, but a smell of her nightgown calmed him and he smiled in his sleep.

She grinned and pulled him closer. He felt so warm and rich next to her skin, like when she hugged Dawn. It was an extension of her and there was no one who could tell her or convince her that these were not her children.

Slowly she fell asleep, wrapped in tiny arms of love, feeling complete and secure.

That was the way Spike found her. Curled into a little ball with James' legs wrapped around her waist and his head tucked under her chin.

Gently he sat down next to them.

I wish I could've known what he was thinking at that moment, face so serene, lips slightly parted, hands aching to touch her.

His soft, pure, angel.

There he was, this dirty, nasty monster in the body of a man. A bastard man, who treated his slutty mistress better than his wife and children. He shut his eyes against the heat boiling up inside of him, rash and bare were his wounds. Dark and pure his intentions.

And there she was, wriggling beneath him, begging for him to stop, screaming for his sanity. Flesh, soft and pure, bruised and dark.

Spike stop, please stop.

A hand on his cheek...

He gasped, opened his crystal blue eyes and stared at her.

"Hey," she whispered.

He staggered back, disgusted with himself.

She sensed it in him and ran after him as he blindly made his way through the large mansion's halls.

"Wait! Spike, stop, please stop!"

Those words, those mundane words.

He couldn't bear it 1,001 voices in his head screaming and telling him what he was, what he did and what he would become. Powder. Dust. In little corners of little streets in little towns where no one ever sleeps.

I watched as he slumped by the door of his room, curled up into a ball, searching wildly for the door knob, dragging himself in and shutting it behind him.

She didn't get there in time. He was already locked, barred inside of himself.

He pressed his forehead against the cool panel of the door and sobbed.

When she got there...all she could hear was the wrecked sobs that were muffled against the oak of the door. She reached up and placed her pale hand against the door, a soothing comfort...all she could do.

I watched as silent tears ran down her cheeks. He was in pain, agonizing pain.

She'd felt the same pain when she realized what he almost did to her. The realizations of that night in the bathroom didn't hit her until weeks after he had left. The pain they had caused each other. The guilt buried right along with it.

---------------

Mami was a heavy set woman in her forties, strong, proud and very rigid with the house rules. The servants fled at her command, her insistence that the Caldwell Estate had to be maintained in the most perfect order had made her the light in her lord's eye.

So upon finding Lady Elizabeth on the floor at 6:30AM, resting against Lord Caldwell's door she had, of course, nearly fainted.

The Caldwell couple, though young and once very much in love, were a strange yet normal couple. She had begun providing her services 4 months into their marriage. She had seen the happy times when James was nothing but a bean in Elizabeth's belly, how Lord William would treat her as if she would break, kissing her belly in the hall (of course she would scold at them and hush them to their quarters), holding hands in the garden and most importantly, defending his lovely bride against anyone who spoke ill of her. Now, Miss Elizabeth was nothing to be taken lightly, the girl of only 18 had a strong head on her shoulders, ready to be Mistress of the House, proud of her middle-class heritage yet kind, sweet and completely in love with Lord William.

When James had been born, the little family had it greatest moments, she had watched how Lord Williams'' face paled with one look at his pink and crying son, how he'd almost burst into tears and how he'd looked at Lady Elizabeth like she were the most precious jewel on this earth.

Things had been a Garden of Eden until James turned 2. They would stay hours at end in their room, softly talking and singing to their son, sleeping, and simply loving.

Those were the good times, and Mami still remembered them quite clearly.

It wasn't until that fateful October night when Lord William went out drinking (like he did some weekends) and met the infamous Miss Jezebel LaCrosse. Miss LaCrosse found the handsome young Lord charming, arrogant and above all rich. Filthy rich. Upon finding such a lovely catch she determined to make herself the new Lady of Caldwell Manor.

Her intentions were never a secret, and everyone knew that she would go through greats lengths to get what she wanted. Including, openly having a relationship with the young Lord and flaunting it not only in the face of the help...but in Lady Elizabeth's face.

Lady Elizabeth had been devastated and for months she did not come out of her room. James was sent to stay with his aunt until the Lady 'improved in health'.

Lord William, during those times, seemed almost conflicted but Mami was almost certain that Jezebel was working with them dark powers and said her holy Mary's seven times each for every time that woman came and left the house. Shameful she was, simply shameful.

But all was not lost between Lord Caldwell and his lovely Lady, when Jezebel had to make an emergency trip to Charlestown that had delayed her for 5 months the Lord came crawling back to Lady Elizabeth. Of course, she forgave him, accepted his apologies-- she then came to be with child. Bringing Sarah. The two were still leery of each other, the Lord knowing that he had hurt her, intentionally and the Lady afraid that it was all a game, a lie, and ending lay in the future.

Then Jezebel returned five months later and Elizabeth's fears were made a reality, Jezebel openly kissed the Lord right after dinner, that had nearly been the death of Lady Elizabeth...especially the part when he didn't pull away.

She'd had the child under much difficulty and by herself, since Lord Caldwell was on a 'business' trip with Jezebel in Pennsylvania. The lady had nearly died, all the while asking for him, crying for him but he was no where in sight. She had not recouperated from the labor, and when Mami had found her note on top of the bed stating she was going to stay with her good friends, the Rosenberg's, Mami had written to the Lord urgently.

But it wasn't Mami's note that sent Lord William after his wife. It was a letter from his father, the Lord Caldwell IV, that had him running back to his estate with his yellow tail between his legs. His father had heard of his lifestyle with Jezebel and the way Lady Elizabeth had been treated, though Lord Caldwell hated his daughter in law because of her social class there were appearances to be kept and his son's was none the pleasant.

That's when the young Lord had promised his mistress he'd be back...but had to bring back Lady Elizabeth before they could see each other again.

It took William 2 weeks to find Elizabeth and 1 week to convince her to come back. Mami didn't know what exactly that hatful man had told the gentle Elizabeth but their return had been unlike anything she had ever seen.

They seemed fresh...and almost new. Different yet somewhat the same.

Finding Lady Elizabeth, sleeping by his door just placed a whole new meaning to the relationship she thought she understood.

She knelt down by he petite girl.

"M'Lady," she whispered and lightly shook her shoulder.

Buffy groaned and murmured something in her sleep. "Spike..." Every so softly, that even though I heard it Mami didn't catch it.

Mami shook her again.

She said his name louder this time and I watched as Mami's eyes grew VERY large, very fast and her dark skin paled in shades I had never seen.

The woman backed up, staring at the lady in confusion. horror and a hint of disappointment, picking up her skirts she quickly ran down the hall.

Ok...what the hell happened just then? I looked back at Buffy, she was slowly waking up, and thank god had stopped whimpering Spike's name.

She pulled herself straight up, a bit confused but looking back at the door she sighed.

"Stay there, then," she grumbled.

This little slayer was never the morning person, she glared at the door and gave it a good kick.

Startling a sleeping Spike on the other side whom without thinking stood up and abruptly yanked the door open.

"What the bloody hell is--"

//Smack//

Little fiery blonde standing with her hands on her hips, glaring up at the disheveled and confused as hell Spike.

His cheek stung and he simply stared down at her.

"Jerk!" she spat and turned to walk away.

He quickly regained conscious thought and reached out to grab her arm.

"Hold it up, slayer," he hissed. "What was that for?"

She spun around, her long hair covering his hands and chest.

"I'll tell you what is wrong, I've been turned into the conventional Betty Crocker! I have children hanging on me all the time, you're not here, you're off with some French-ho and I'm pregnant with another one of your children, then you don't speak to me, you lock yourself in your room and cry, I can't help you, and I'm fucking emotional and queasy ALL of the time, then, then, then..." she burst out crying.

Spike looked like he was hit by a Mack truck and then exposed to sudden sunlight after being locked into a dark room for a long time.

'Pet..." he tried but she pulled away from him.

"I hate this! I hate it--"

He grabbed her upper arms and gently kissed her forehead though she struggled a bit...she eventually gave in pressed her head against his strong chest, sagging against the enveloping arms.

"There, there, luv...I'm here."

That only made her cry harder and longer, so much that he eventually picked her up and took her into his room, laying her on the bed...laying right next to her.

I watched how they curled up against each other, the dogs curled themselves on top of them, warming the couple with their bodies.

I sighed. Not bad for a morning's work, gently I closed the door behind me and went in search of the frightened Mami.

------------------

"Come in." he purred from his seat.

The large oak door opened and in waltz the voluptuous form, dressed in an evening cape, hands covered in riding gloves.

She walked in and knelt before him, and kissed his hand. "My lord."

He smiled down at her, pushing back the hood that his her beautiful red hair.

"Jezebel...you get more beautiful each day." he held his hand under her chin and smiled wickedly.

"Lord Rochester, you are too kind to me, sir." she whispered, but with a small smile on her face.

"Remove your coat and gloves." he said, huskily.

She stood up and did as she was told, revealing her rich green velvet dress, bare milky white shoulders.

"Stunning, as always, mademoiselle." he ran the tip of his index finger, lightly between her shoulder blades, making the skin ripple in goose pimples. "Tell me, my dear...what information has he confided in you."

Her eyes went watery at the thought, biting her lower red lip. "The young lord is very hard to break, my lord, he's still very untrusting of me and my loyalties--"

"Untrusting?"

"He's...." she gulped, taking a deep breath. "...changed, My Lord."

"Changed?"

"Changed."

"In what manner?" the lord was losing his patience, taking in her amazing cleavage to prevent himself from beating her over the head.

"Please do not be upset, Lord Rochester...ever since he came back from that trip of finding Lizzy he's been strange, forgetting things, having lunch with her..."

"So this is all about Lizzy then?" he asked, jaw tightening.

She snapped her eyes up at him.

"Hasn't it always been?"

Rochester smiled and walked up to her, caressing her cheek. "Then I suppose our problem does lie in our dead Mrs. Caldwell." he looked down at her, Jezebel had the faintest smile on her lips. "We'll have to take care of her, now won’t we?"

Jezebel closed her eyes as he kissed her softly on the lips. When he pulled back she was breathing heavily. "Yes, my lord."

-------------------

James peered up at the two sleeping figures and his lips twitched. This was so strange, what exactly was going on? These were definitely not his parents.

With some difficulty he finally climbed up on the bed and crawled softly next to Buffy. He leaned in to her ear. "Mommy," he whispered.

Nothing.

He glared at his father but ignored him, his goal was to retrieve his mother, and have her all for himself. Plus Sarah was hungry.

"Mommy..."

"Shhh, James."

The little head snapped up to stare at small blue eyes just like his own.

"Don't wake up your mother, bit." Spike whispered to the little boy.

James' wide, frightened eyes held his, and slowly they watered up.

Spike quickly disentangled himself from Buffy, wrapping the blankets over her and swiftly got off the bed, walking around to grab James before he woke up the entire household.

"C'mon," Spike said quickly, before James registered what was happening, he was being swept into his father's arms and being walked out of the room.

"Put me down!" James demanded once they were outside of the room.

Spike smirked at the furious little look he was getting but promptly placed him down on the floor.

"I want my mommy! And Sarah is hungry." James informed him, placing small little hands on his hips, glaring up at Spike.

"Well, well, well, get the attitude from the mother, huh?" Spike smiled, crouching down to look at James in the face. "Why don't you show me were I can find Sarah?"

James looked doubtfully at the man who called himself his father. He had the same hair, same clothes, same voice...but those eyes. The eyes were different.

"You're not my daddy, aren't you? Just like she's not my mommy." James more stated than asked.

Spike was taken back and I could see the hurt clearly shadowing his face. He bit his lip and half smiled at the intelligent child.

"No, bit...I'm not your father...but--"

"Are you going to take us with you when you leave?" James asked, eagerly.

Spike almost swallowed his tongue. "Err...where is your sister's room again?"

James smiled. "Come with me, the house is large but I can help you learn your way around it." The little boy reached up, grabbed Spike's hand and pulled him down the hall, chatting about the servants, and petty things he should remember.

"Here it is, this is our nursery," James explained to Spike.

We could hear the baby crying at the end of the room, a nurse with her.

"Father's here!" James announced to the nurse who upon turning around and seeing who was there nearly fainted.

"My lord!" she cried, making Sarah scream louder.

Spike's eyes narrowed as he saw his daughter in distress. "Hey! Make her stop crying!" he demanded of the nurse.

The woman became nothing. "I'm sorry, m'lord...she just needs her morning feeding..."

"Well, there's no bottle?" Spike asked, staring down at the pink baby, who was getting redder as the seconds tricked by. He swiftly picked her up in his arms and rocked her against him, inserting his fingers into her small mouth. He remembered his 'mum' used to do that. Sarah was grateful and quickly latched on to suckle his finger.

"This won’t hold her for long, get her some milk!" he told the nurse who quickly nodded and fled the room.

James struggled to sit himself on the chair next to Spike and looked up at him smiling.

"I'm glad you're going to take us with you, I hate this house and I hate my father," the little boy stated very plainly.

"Do you now?" Spike asked him, smiling slightly down at him while Sarah fussed in his arms.

"Yeah, he's mean...like a monster, always made mommy cry..." he finished softly but very sadly.

A sudden lump settled itself on Spike's throat.

"....always made mommy cry..."

Buffy wriggling under him, begging him to stop...

"...please stop...Spike, please stop...."

He gasped, opening his eyes--wide blue eyes that looked alone, lost and frightened of their own shadow.

I was too grateful when Buffy bounce inside of the room, just as Spike was going to fall apart, Sarah begin to cry and James begin his interrogation.

"Good thing Daisy came to get me--" she said, taking Sarah from Spike's confused arms, Daisy peered at Spike behind the Lady.

"There, there, baby--mom's here," Buffy cooed the little girl.

It was as if Sarah knew her mother was here, her crying and fussing stopped and all she searched for was the nourishing nipple. "Thank you, Daisy, I think we can handle it from here," Buffy told the nurse--who could only nod numbly and scurry out of the room. Buffy took a seat in the large oak rocking chair next to James and smiled at him.

"Morning, pea."

James made a face.

"Pea?" he asked, sticking his tongue out. "I hate peas."

"They're good for you," Spike told him, yet his eyes were entrance on how Buffy easily opened her gown and let a plump, firm breast out. She deftly fed Sarah from it who took it appreciatively. "Been practicing at this, I see?"

Buffy shrugged. "Not that I want to do it for the rest of my life but it's kinda weird...almost like a unique bonding moment."

Spike nodded...never a train of though on how her breasts were now almost doubled their original size...and firm and round and...

"Honey...you're drooling," Buffy smirked up at him.

Yeah...he was.

---------- ----------

He had to admit to himself that this life he had here...it wasn't so bad.

His house was beyond his own comprehension, he had over 15 servants around the clock who worshipped the ground he walked on. Had a beautiful wife, 2 lovely children and a third on the way, apparently had more money and influence than what he knew what to do with and had a horse.

A horse...one hell of a horse.

It was the Shadowfax of horses. (and note he would never admit to anyone he read Tolkien) Only it was a black stallion, put a perfectly pure breed.

He was astounded, almost wished he could take the saddle off and just stare at the beauty. Must cost over twenty grand.

His name was Osgood.

"Osgood...bloody poofy name, if you ask me," he murmured between his teeth as he combed the mane of the horse. The horse snorted and shook his head. "Yeah...you hate it too, don't you?"

"Sir, the young Lord's horse is ready." the stableman, Holland, said behind him.

Spike nodded and turned to look at him. "Right, let's ride then."

"Are you sure you wont take a guide, M'lord...you're property is large and--"

"What did I say?" Spike snapped at him, it was not cool to seem dependent in front of his child.

James for his part, looked adorable in his riding gear, from primed hat, gloves, boots and his mother's rouge lips mark on his cheek.

Be careful, ok? She told him, smiling at how adorable he looked with his riding outfit. Then kissed his cheek, marking them well.

She then turned to glare at Spike. "Not one hair on his head better be damaged, mister, I'm warning you."

Spike chuckled and gave Sarah back to her. "We'll be back before you know it, M'lady. I'm an expert rider."

She had snorted at that and walked back inside.

"Ready, bit?" he asked James after he had deftly mounted his horse, it had only been 7 years since the last time he rode one of these, and he's been ridding them all of his life.

James was lifted on to his smaller horse by two of the stablemen. "Hold on tight like we taught you, young Lord and you'll be fine. Your father is an award winning horseman, you're in good hands, laddie." the older one whispered to him.

"Don't worry, Jake," he smiled at the old man. "We know what we're doing."

"Right then, young Lord...and keep an eye out for them wolves in the woods, just like I told ya'." Old Jake told him.

James nodded and followed his father on the trot.

From behind him, Buffy watched them carefully as they rode off.

-------------- -----------

He sighed for the second time that day.

"Can I get any work done without half the town interrupting." he grumbled. "Come the bloody hell in!"

Jeeves peered, shyly over the tiny opening. "M'lord Rochester....there's a woman here to see you--"

Rochester sighed, rubbing his temple. "Who is it?"

"She claims to be the servant of Lord Caldwell and Lady Caldwell..." the servant was interrupted.

"Why is the blazing heaven would I want to see their servant?" he groaned.

"She says...." the servant came closer and whispered to him. "...that she knows something of....private interest."

Rochester arched his brow. "Did she?" his lips curved into a malicious smile. "Send her in."

"Yes, m'liege."

Not five minutes later came in a scared and doubtful Mami.

"Come in, Ms...."

"You can juz' call me Mami..."

Rochester shrugged, and offered the a seat. "Right...Mami, what can I do for you today, or more less what can you do for me?"

The woman was trembling, which gave Rochester a delicious thrill down his spine.

"I...I first want to state my loyalty sir to the crown, and all it stands for and above all my loyalty to Lord Caldwell, 'this is why I've come to you, m'lord." she sniffed, pulling out a large yellowish hankie. "You see, I know you stand for the good of us all--"

"Yes, yes, I'm the messiah and you're loyal to him as eggs to bacon--but you must also know that I'm a very busy man...the information you bring to me would be best said now."

Mami took a deep breath and looked at him.

"You see, M'lord...I head M'lady Caldwell say the name 'Spike' in her sleep...in that improper sort of way."

Rochester's eyebrows almost fell of his face and met his hairline...mine did it before his.

Then I burst out laughing, completely missing the seriousness of the matter.

How is it that it's said?

'The shit had hiteth the fan'.

---------- ---------

TBC