Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: R. I haven't fully exercised this rating yet. Give me time.

Summary: Tara agreed to babysit Dawn for the week while both Joyce and Buffy were away. The job was going quite smoothly until a beaten and bloody Spike showed up on the doorstep with Xander clutched protectively to his chest. Of course add to this fact that Xander's a six year old and even poor Giles is stumped. When Angel and Cordelia show up, it really becomes a party. And Tara's adventures in babysitting are just beginning.

Author's Note: I bet you all thought I'd given up on this story. Nope, I just had work, then writer's block (Gasp! Horrors!), and then my computer ate everything that I had written. EVERYTHING! But enough notes! I know you all want to read the story. I wanted to make this longer before I posted, but a certain reviewer begging on their knees convinced me to sacrifice a little sleep and get this out there. Thanks for the kick in the butt, by the way.

On with the story!

"18 . . . 19 . . . 20! Ready or not, here I come, Fledge!"

Tara shook her head and chuckled as she stirred the huge pot of pasta boiling on the stove. Considering all the extra guests the newest situation had brought to the Summers' household, spaghetti seemed like the logical choice for dinner. It was quick, easy, and judging from the enthusiastic reactions of Dawn and Xander, Tara knew her two temporary charges would eat it. Either that or they both were anticipating how much fun it would be to fling it across the table at each other. Tara frowned as that thought went through her mind. Despite his seemingly constant state of motion around the household during their day of research, Xander was remarkably restrained when it came to rough housing. In fact he rarely acted out unless it was instigated by another party. And Dawn was way too old to . . . . Tara thought over the events of the day and the antics thus far the younger Summers had enjoyed with her new "little brother". With a sigh she made a mental note to change before dinner.

The Wicca was drawn from her thoughts by the ringing of the telephone. Who would be calling right now? Angel and Spike had both been nearly vibrating with pent up energy by the time the sun had set. They had left to do a patrol through a couple of Sunnydale's busier cemeteries. Well, actually Angel had said he would patrol and Spike had followed so he could keep his grandsire in sight at all times. If she hadn't already known that vampires were territorial, it would have been abundantly clear after today. Cordelia hadn't fared much better being cooped up all day and had jumped to help Giles look for more books that might prove useful in their research on Xander's condition.

Well, there was only one way to discover the mystery caller's identity. "Hello, Summers' residence."

"Hello, Tara. Has my daughter totally destroyed the house yet?"

Tara gulped and swiftly stifled the sheer terror that rose in her throat. "N-no Ms. Summers. Everything's f-fine."

On the other end of the line Joyce chuckled softly. "Calm down, dear. I was just joking with you. I have total confidence in your ability to prevent my house from crumbling down to its foundation. So, how is everything in Sunnydale?"

"Well. . . ." Upstairs she heard a shrill shriek, followed by an indignant yell of fury. "Everything's g-good. Dawn and I watched movies last night. I got Army of Darkness. I hope that's okay?"

"I'm just glad I'm not the only woman who enjoys an hour and a half of Ash. I'm sure Dawnie loved it. What is my daughter up to at the moment?"

Frenzied steps stomped down the staircase. "Xander! Get back here right now!"

"Nuh-uh. You gotta catch me, shiny girl!"

Xander raced into the kitchen shortly followed by an infuriated Dawn Summers. A drippy wet, scowling, Dawn Summers whose look of absolute wrath was ruined by the glint of affection and mischief in her eyes. Reassured that the girl held no real malice for the younger boy, save a little good natured payback, Tara turned her attention back to Ms. Summers and let the two chase each other around the kitchen island.

In her hotel room, Joyce Summers heard the commotion and her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Is someone else over there?"

"Y-yeah," Tara answered quickly. "Xander and Dawn are playing."

It was the truth, technically. She felt like a heel keeping anything from the older woman, but she truthfully didn't know how much everyone shared with Ms. Summers when it came to the stranger side of Sunnydale.

"Well if the sound of my daughter's voice is any indication, Xander needs to find a rock to hide under for the next couple of weeks," Joyce said with laughter in her voice.

Dawn made a desperate grab for Xander as he rounded the corner of the island. Xander twisted away from her grasping hands and stuck his tongue out at the older girl as she bumped the counter. Several objects on the island wobbled alarmingly, but were ignored as she quickly righted herself and darted after the laughing boy.

"Yeah, laugh now, boy," she taunted. "You'll be singing a different tune when I get my hands on you!"

"You're slower than a snail, Dawnie!" he teased right back. More chasing and laughing followed.

Tara grinned at the two's antics before going back to her conversation. "Oh, he's running," she told Joyce. "Whether she catches him remains to be seen."

"I take it they're having fun?" Joyce asked with a smile. From what little she could hear over the line, she figured she'd be having a much better time at home in Sunnydale than on her buying trip. All the art was interesting, but didn't compare to watching Xander pester her younger daughter. The only thing better was when the two ganged up on Buffy. Honestly, sometimes her older daughter took herself way too seriously. She guessed it came from being the Slayer.

"Yeah, they are," she informed Joyce. Another body impacted against the island and rattled the dishes. Maybe a little too much fun, she added mentally. She'd better stop their little game of tag before something got. . .

CRASH!

. . . Too late. A vase had finally wobbled too far and succumbed to gravity. Looking up, Tara saw two pairs of eyes look first at the remains of the vase, then at her guiltily.

"Oops," Dawn offered weakly from her position behind the island. Xander's eyes fell back to the floor and he quickly started to move away from the glass remains at his feet. His bare feet, Tara noticed with growing concern.

"Xander. Don't move!" she warned him as she began to move forward to keep him from hurting himself on the shards decorating the floor.

Xander immediately froze and looked up at Tara with wide eyes. "I'm s-sorry," he stammered. "I can pick it up."

"No, don't touch it, Xan. I'll get it when I get over there," she tried to reassure him.

"What's going on?" Joyce asked, curious to what had caused the sudden silence.

But Tara wasn't paying attention to Ms. Summers any longer. Her attention was solely on Xander. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up. You don't have to do anything." His voice got more desperate as he continued and tears pooled in his eyes even as he began to tremble. Tara's blood ran cold. She knew that look. It brought back images of hurt and fear, and memories she thought she'd buried the day she had left for college.

She stopped in her tracks when she realized that Xander's look was directed at her and mentally cursed. Her moment of pause made her aware that Joyce was still on the line and getting more frantic by the second.

"Tara, what's wrong? Is Xander hurt? Tara? Tara, are you still there?"

Tara swallowed the lump in her throat. "Sorry, Ms. Summers. I'm going to give you to Dawn and she'll explain everything, ok?"

"All right, dear," Joyce told her quietly, disturbed by the small, frightened voice she'd heard over the line a moment ago.

Tara handed the phone to a wide eyed, confused Dawn with quick instruction to fill her in on everything that had happened in the last two days. Then she focused back on Xander.

"Xan? Sweetie?" Careful of the glass around her, she slowly moved to the counter that Xander had backed into. She made sure she stayed in his sight the entire time then crouched down to his level.

Xander followed her every move. "I'm s-sorry," he told her shakily once she'd gotten to his side. "It w-was an a-a-accident."

The sound of his stutter almost made her break down completely. She remembered a time shortly after she'd started regularly attending Scooby meetings. Xander had snuck up behind her and Willow during one of their research parties and startled them. Willow, being used to his antics, had merely turned around and smacked his shoulder good naturedly before returning to her work. But Tara had dropped the book she had been holding and barely been able to restrain a terror filled shriek. She had tried to shake the shock off, but couldn't completely hold off the case of the shivers she got. Willow had given her a quick pat on the shoulder, but otherwise not noticed how affected she was by being startled. Embarrassed at her extreme reaction, Tara had covered up her nerves by bending down to pick up her book.

When she stood back up, she realized that Xander was still there, abeit further away now. Shame filled his eyes as he took one of her hands gently. "I am so sorry," he apologized softly.

"I-it's o-okay," she'd stammered. Xander winced at her stutter, and his expression became even more regretful. Tara had never noticed how much emotion his face showed before. "You just s-surprised me . . . is all." She offered him a weak smile.

Xander smiled back at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes were full of apology, and something else she couldn't identify. He'd never snuck up on her again.

Looking at the little boy practically cowering in front of her now, she knew what that unidentified emotion was now. It was empathy.

"Xan," she spoke softly. "I'm not mad at you."

"Y-you're not?" he asked cautiously.

Tara shook her head. "No, I'm not."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise," Tara told him solemnly. "You're barefoot. I didn't want you to step in the glass."

Xander looked down at his feet, then back up at Tara. The frightened look was fading now, replaced by embarrassment. "Oh," he whispered.

Tara smiled gently at him, then held out her arms. "Can I get you away from the glass?"

"Okay," Xander allowed her to pick him up and set him on the table.

Tara checked him over quickly to make sure he hadn't been cut by the falling glass. Satisfied that he was uninjured, she pulled up a chair and sat. Sitting on the table, Xander was slightly above eye level, still looking at her nervously. Tara slowly reached up a hand and cupped the boy's cheek.

Their gazes met. "I would never hurt you, Xan."

Xander studied Tara's face for several seconds. Tara sat there patiently and let him. His eyes scrutinized her every feature for some kind of subterfuge. The Wiccan returned his gaze trying her hardest to be open with him. She saw the change in his expression and watched the tension flow out of him. She didn't move as he lifted his hand and mimicked her earlier actions.

His tiny hand pressed lightly against her cheek. "I believe you."

Then his face abruptly broke into a grin and she found herself the recipient of an enthusiastic hug. Apparently Xander had become a spontaneous hugger early in life. Tara hugged him back tightly, not minding the affection one bit. They were still holding each other when Dawn returned from the living room with the cordless phone.

"You okay, Xan?" the younger girl asked quietly.

Xander gave Dawn a quick grin and a nod over Tara's shoulder before letting go of her and settling more comfortably in her lap. Tara saw the phone in Dawn's hand and motioned for her to hand it over. Dawn said a quick goodbye to her mother before complying to Tara's wishes and heading back into the living room. Xander watched Dawn leave then gave Tara a questioning look.

She smiled down at Xander and nodded. "Watch out for glass in here and please don't chase Dawnie anymore." she told him.

"Okay, Tara," He slid off her lap and went in search of his newest playmate.

"M-Ms. Summers," Tara began.

"Is Xander all right?" Joyce interrupted, worry clearly in her voice.

"He's fine," Tara reassured the older woman. "He and Dawn knocked the vase off the kitchen island. I was afraid he would hurt himself on the pieces of glass. He thought I was mad that he'd broken something. Speaking of, I'll pay for the vase."

"Don't worry about it. My mother-in-law bought it for me. I've been waiting for one of my girls to break it for years. Why else would I set it on something my children constantly chase each other around?" Joyce chuckled. "Oh, you poor girl. And I thought watching Dawn for me would be difficult."

"They're being good, Ms. Summers," Tara told her. "Dawn's been really helpful with Xan since Spike showed up on our doorstep."

"Yes, about that," Joyce interrupted.

Tara bit her lip. "I'm sorry for inviting Spike in your house, but I couldn't think of any other options at the time. Spike was bleeding to a second death, and Xander looked so small and helpless. . . .I just couldn't turn them away. . . ."

"It's all right, dear," Joyce reassured her. "It's true that the thought of Spike in my house alone with you and Dawn, not to mention little Xander makes me uneasy. But I know that you're not a fool. And Spike is fully aware of the consequences of violating the sanctity of my home."

Listening to Joyce's tone of voice at that statement, she realized why a Master Vampire the likes of William the Bloody held the older woman in such high esteem. She had no doubt that the woman would hunt the vampire to the ends of the earth if he ever hurt any of her children.

"He's been a perfect gentleman the entire time he's stayed with us," Tara reassured Joyce. "He actually been a great help with Xander. The two of them have been getting along surprisingly well. I think it was because Xander doesn't realize that vampires are evil, but then again, he really doesn't like Angel."

Joyce snorted. "Angel had better hope he's gone by the time I get back to Sunnydale."

"Angel's helping us," Tara tried to intervene on the older vampire's behalf.

"He hit you," Joyce disputed through gritted teeth.

"It, it was an accident," Tara argued weakly.

"There is no excuse. He barged into the house with no thought to any possible innocent bystanders. Tell me, what would you have done if he'd struck Dawn or Xander?"

On the other end of the line, Tara's face darkened. "We'd have been having undead frog legs for dinner," she answered coldly.

The grin on Joyce's face was full of vicious delight. She knew there was steel to the timid girl. "You shouldn't expect less of a reaction because it was you that was hit. He's hundreds of years old, he should know better."

"I know, Ms. Summers," Tara reassured her. "Other than the little Angel fiasco, everything been great. Dawn's been helping us watch Xander. I think she really enjoys having someone to look after."

"I'm sure she does," Joyce agreed a smile audible in her voice. "She's always wanted a little brother or sister." Joyce paused for a moment. "You are taking pictures, right?"

Tara giggled. "Of course," she answered.

"Xander's such a sweet young man," Joyce commented. "He has to be completely adorable as a child."

"You have no idea," Tara said with a smile.

Joyce laughed. "He used the puppy dog eyes on you, didn't he?" Tara's shocked silence was the only confirmation she needed. "He had me giving him cookies every time he dropped by the house at sixteen. On a six year old those eyes must be lethal."
"He had Giles reading to him during our research session, Cordelia played Legos with him for two hours this afternoon, and Spike has promised that he will learn the Snoopy Dance tonight."

By this time Joyce was gasping for breath through her giggles. "That settles it. I'm catching a flight home first thing in the morning."

"You don't have to do that," Tara interrupted. "We've got everyting handled. You don't need to cut your trip short."

"And miss all the fun?" Joyce asked in disbelief. "I'm coming home so I can see my daughter be a big sister, tease Spike and Mr. Giles, and spoil Xander rotten. That boy needs some coddling and it's been far too long since I've had a little one running around the house. I'll call you when I get my flight details, dear."

Tara capitulated to the inevitable and said a quick goodbye with a promise to take many pictures. That done, she focused once again on dinner, glad she had the forethought to cook something not easily burned if left briefly unattended.

She was just drain the pasta and giving the meaty sauce on last stir when the she heard the door slam.

"Spike and Deadboy are back!" Dawn and Xander yelled simultaneously from the living room.

"Dinner's ready! Go wash up!" she yelled back.

The Wicca grabbed a couple of handfuls of plates from the cabinet and set them on the counter before going back for glasses and silverware. Spike wandered into the kitchen a moment later and grabbed the ice out of the freezer and began filling the glasses. He moved out of the way just as Tara returned from her own trip to the refridgerator for Kool-Aid. She idly passed the blonde a packet of blood as she passed him. Spike picked up the mug sitting on the counter and moved to the microwave to prepare his own dinner. The two of them went about the routine completely unconscious of their inherent awareness of one another. But Angel was struck by the symmetry of their movements as he observed them from his place just outside the kitchen doorway. Two people rarely interacted this flawlessly without a degree of intimacy between them that he knew did not exist between the timid girl and his grandchilde. It made the older vampire curious, and slightly uneasy. Of course, this whole surreal situation made him twitchy.

Within moments, the kids were in the kitchen where they were handed plates, given glasses of Kool-Aid, and herded to the table. Tara shyly extended an invitation to Angel, but he declined to join them. This earned him a derisive snort from Spike which he pointedly ignored before retreating to the living room. Sitting at the table, eating and occasionally slinging spaghetti, the four painted a portrait of domesticity that Angel never thought he'd see. Spike, for all the love and devotion he lavished on Drusilla was a fundamentally wild creature who acted out every whim he felt with reckless abandon. At least, that's how he remembered the younger vampire. Spike had said himself, that demons didn't change, but the vampire sitting at the Summers table making sure Xander had no trouble cutting up his spaghetti into manageable pieces was a far cry from the demon who eviscerated an entire household of Londoners with dull railroad spikes just for the thrill of the chase when the bobbies walked in on the scene. Angel knew one thing for certain. He needed to have a long talk with Spike.