Chapter Text
"Well?" Wesley asked, voice pitching upward with impatience and scolding. His arms were crossed as he glowered down at Spike before him.
The little blonde boy fidgeted his feet and twisted his fingers, clearly guilty and looking for a way out.
"What happened?" Angel asked as he arrived, relieved at least to see no bodily harm.
He was a bit embarrassed by the flush of his cheeks that told of his momentary panic that something bad had happened to one of his boys... to his one boy!... one boy and... Spike...
Said-Spike's bright blue eyes looked up at him hopefully and he had to restrain himself from smiling back at the child.
"I was just trying to help, Daddy. Uncle Wes is being unfair. It was an accident!"
"I'm just gonna go now..." Cordelia said, making an awkward face as she skated around the scene and fled the hotel for the grocery store, much preferring her errand to witnessing a scolding.
"Weren't you supposed to be in time out?" asked Angel, now taking a quick survey of the scene.
The source of all the noise was obvious - Somehow, the little menace had knocked down one of his weapons chests. The noise must have spooked Connor, because he was wrapped up in Fred's arms being snuggled and cooed over, as Gunn grumbled and grimaced and tried to straighten up the fallen artillery.
"An accident?" Wes retorted, rolling his eyes and scoffing. "Accidents happen when something is unintentional..."
"But I didn't mean for it to fall over!"
"But you did mean to mess around where you knew you shouldn't!"
"Who says I shouldn't?!" Spike fired back, too enthralled with the bickering to remember his audience.
Angel cleared his throat loudly and Spike blushed to his ears, before giving him a sheepish look.
"Okay, well, maybe once or twice, Daddy might've said something about not touching -- but I didn't actually touch! And I was trying to help! Doesn't that count for anything around here?!" he lamented and scuffed his foot against the floor.
"How is this helping?!" Wes barked back, gesturing once more at the near mountain of sharp instruments.
And suddenly, just like the edges of the coffee table, Angel's mind fixated on those edges, on all the horrible possibility of those edges on his little boy... not his, just Spike! Damn it.
But still! What a horrible incident this could have been. Angel's stomach swooped and his blood boiled in tandem. Spike’s behavior, however well-intended, could have gotten him maimed or killed! He felt his palm itching to swat.
"You're hunting a demon- I dunno! I thought maybe there could be something helpful..."
"In the strictly forbidden weapons closet?" Wes arched a brow. "Give it up, young man. This was downright foolish and naughty and you know better!"
"Young man?" Gunn gapped at Wesley. "Not you too!"
"As long as we're stuck like this, so be it!" Wes replied to him.
Spike turned his head in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Never you mind," Wes bit back before turning to Angel expectantly. "Well?"
Angel gave a nod, wordlessly taking over the scolding so Wes could stomp back over to his books and resume his work.
"This is not a pretty sight, William."
"M'sorry, Daddy."
"Are you? Because everything you just said shows Uncle Wes is right - it wasn't an accident and you did know better. So what should we do about this?"
"No spankin'," Spike said, hands covering his backside and lower lip pouting out.
"Really?" Angel folded his arms. "What should we do instead?"
"I... could... help Uncle Gunn clean it up?"
"No!" Both Gunn and Fred replied.
"Don't think you're supposed to be near dangerous things, little boy," Angel reminded him sternly.
Spike bit his lip again and swayed nervously. "I... could... write a hundred 'I'm sorry's?"
"Hmm, I think some lines could be helpful. Especially since you admitted to forgetting a rule we have about Daddy's weaponry. But you could have been seriously injured. I don't think lines alone are going to cut it."
"But I really was trying to help," the whine came, the boy looking pitiful and downtrodden.
"And was this helpful?" Angel gestured to the mess.
"No," Spike replied sullenly, staring at his shoes.
"And were you supposed to still be in time out?"
"Yes... But I should be allowed to help!" Spike fired back up. The boy was nothing if not determined. It was almost sweet, Angel thought, with the emphasis on almost.
"Spike..." he began, patience running thin.
"I can help, Daddy, really!" he vowed passionately.
"Not like this, you can’t,” Gunn grumbled absently. Only the lull in Angel's response allowed it to be heard, but Spike snapped his head in Gunn's direction.
"What does that mean?” Spike asked.
Gunn realized his slip and replied, "Nothing, just, I mean, you can’t because you’re too little. Maybe when you’re older.”
"I should be allowed to help. Without Penn around, I’m the oldest.”
"And how old is that exactly?” Angel said, meaning it rhetorically.
"Eight… and a half,” Spike replied in earnest.
Angel tried not to roll his eyes. "And did I used to let Penn help?”
"…No,” groaned the child before brightening up with an idea, “But…!”
Angel cut him off, “I don’t think any 'but' is gonna cut it, William, but if you keep pushing the issue, I can talk about it with your butt if you need.”
Spike blushed and dropped his eyes low. “No Daddy.”
"So?"
Spike grimaced, looking back up at Angel's expectant and stern face.
"Spankin'?" he asked softly.
Angel nodded in return.
"Here?" Spike worried, looking at all the people around and blushing.
"No, baby," Angel took mercy on him. "Let's go upstairs and continue this conversation in private, okay?"
Spike slipped his hand into Angel's, seemingly for courage to make it up the stairs. Angel gave his hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze as he led him up to his bedroom for their talk.
Spike looked like he was going to start crying then and there. It was so different from Connor who held out even during the punishment. Spike went to his side quickly and buried his flaming red face against Angel, sniffling apologies and promising not to do it again.
Well shit.
Angel hadn't thought spanking Connor would have be the easier experience of the two. But with a repentant and scared little boy right before him, partially begging him not to, all Angel could think about was being a child himself and feeling afraid.
He sat on his bed and immediately drew Spike onto his lap, hugging the child tightly to his chest.
"It's okay, baby," Angel soothed, feeling his fatherly instincts take over. "I know it's scary but I promise I would never, ever go too far with you."
"I know that, Daddy," Spike sniffled, wiping roughly at his eyes. "I just thought... I really did mean well and now I feel so stupid and everyone hates me!"
"Whoa, whoa," Angel snuggled him even tighter. "No one hates you!"
"Yes they do! Everyone's mad at me!"
"No one's mad..."
"Uncle Wes is!"
"He's emotional about it, not because he's mad at you, but because he was scared you nearly got hurt. And that goes double for Daddy. Do you understand, sweetheart? You could have needed to go to the hospital for something much worse than a little swat on your bum."
Spike mumbled something into Angel’s shoulder.
“Once more, Will.”
“Understand,” he whispered more clearly this time. Angel took it as his sign to get this over with.
"Okay, sweetheart, I'm going to begin now and then it will be all done and all forgiven. No more touching Daddy's weapons, not without my direct supervision, clear?"
"Clear."
As Angel flipped Spike over on his knees and tugged the boy’s pants and underwear down to his knees, he remembered all the fear and worry, all the hundred ways Spike’s behavior could have gotten him hurt.
”I’m going to go easy on you today, little boy, because I do believe you’re sorry. Don’t make me regret that, William, because if Daddy believes you and you don’t learn your lesson and you touch the armory again, Daddy’s going to think you need a much stronger lesson next time. You might even meet my belt that way.”
”Noooo,” Spike whined nervously.
”Then you learn your lesson this time, okay sweetheart? I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you. Daddy needs his boys safe and that’s non-negotiable.”
”Yes Daddy.”
”Good,” Angel said before raising his hand in the air.
The first time his palm connected with that cute chubby backside, it jiggled in its own surprise as Spike yelped.
Angel kept up the pace, spanking Spike similarly to how he had spanked Con, with stinging strikes all over his bare little bottom, aiming to light a fire that would fade fast and leave no real marks.
Spike, to his credit, held it together for the first ten smacks, but after that, he was wailing and wailing and wailing apologies. He squirmed and wiggled and begged, but Angel just held him tightly around the hips and kept spanking away.
Angel was serious about driving the message home so he wasn’t done quite yet. The boy was going to get the full 30 spanks Angel had decided on and that was that. But he did lighten his slaps for the last ten based on how tearful and apologetic the boy was.
”There now, baby, let it out,” Angel soothed, rubbing Spike’s back as he cried himself out. His pale little bum was now flushed pink, slightly darker toward the creases of his thighs were Angel had placed a couple mean ones.
Angel had intended to end with a scolding and a few last powerful spanks to drive the message home, like he had with Connor, but he couldn’t bring himself to punish little William anymore.
He turned William around and tucked him in to his chest, letting his chin rest upon the boy’s head.
”L-love you, D-daddy,” Spike sniffled.
Angel’s heart swooped. It was the last thing he expected Spike to say. He certainly had never felt that way after being whipped by his father, although those had been far harsher experiences.
Will’s watery blue eyes looked up at him with so much love and hope and admiration, it nearly took his breath away. Why was he trying so hard to keep thinking of this boy as Spike? They were clearly so different. He couldn’t hold this child accountable for his adult counterpart.
If they managed to cure him, so be it if Spike was mad at him. He could weather that storm.
And if he was stuck this way? Well, then he was Angel’s baby and that was okay too. More than okay.
“I love you too, Will,” Angel finally replied before putting a soft kiss on the boy’s hair.
“Sorry I was naughty. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Thank you, baby. All forgiven.”
Spike perked up. “No lines?”
Angel smiled. “Yes lines, but I forgive you anyway.”
Will groaned, dropping his head back against Angel, soaking up the cuddle and comfort anyway.
It took him nearly an hour, but before lunch was served, Spike had completed his 100 “I will not touch Daddy’s weapons.”