Chicago World's Fair, 1933
"Don't let go," Spike instructed the brown-haired child clinging to his back. "It's a long way down
if you fall."
The little boy whimpered and held on tighter. Spike adjusted his own hold on the wooden support
beams and began the journey to the ground.
The Ferris Wheel had closed at sunset, but the operators must have failed to check the seats before
shutting the amusement ride down. Spike had climbed the wheel on a whim, wanting to see the
electric lights that decorated the fair, while Drusilla played on her own.
Spike had found the boy asleep in the highest cart. If Spike hadn't gorged himself earlier on fair
attendees, he'd have gleefully drained the child as a midnight snack. The only reason the young one
hadn't been used in a gravity experiment was because he'd opened his eyes and focused the dark
chocolate orbs on Spike.
Spike had a sense of deja vu and an even stronger feeling to take care of the boy. He should have
questioned his sanity when he'd told the child to climb on his back, but instead he simply climbed
down the Ferris Wheel.
"Don't let go," Spike said again, still piggy-backing the dark-haired child. Spike walked through
the late crowd towards the Administration building, where the police were stationed. He entered the
building through the fancy glass doors and bypassed the complaining persons in the main hall,
who'd had their pockets picked.
"Hey," Spike greeted the harried uniformed man behind a tall oak bench. "You got a lost-n-found
"William!" a deep voice boomed, causing Spike to spin on his heel. "William Lavelle!"
"I'm gonna get a whuppin'," the boy on Spike's back mumbled in his ear.
A barrel of a man rushed over to Spike, his long legs eating the distance quickly. His dark brown
hair stood out every which way, a testimony to worried fingers being dragged through it. Rich
chocolate eyes that matched the boy's reflected anger, fear, and relief.
"William Lavelle, where have you been?" the man almost-yelled with a thick English accent.
"Found the sprog on the Ferris Wheel," Spike told him, passing the child to the man, who was
obviously the boy's father. "He was sleeping."
"You had me scared to death, William." The father hugged his son tightly. "You're not going to sit
for a week, I'm going to tan you so hard. I thought you'd been nicked. I'm so bloody angry with
you. Are you hurt?"
Wondering what had gotten into him, Spike went to leave before the family reunion made him sick.
The relieved father stopped him by laying a large hand on his shoulder. "How can I thank you?" the
Spike shrugged him off. "None needed." He continued on his way, but his step faltered when he
heard the man speaking to the desk officer.
"I'm Alexander Spike Harris. I reported my child as missing. He's found now."