A series of backstories written for a roleplay character. The same character has also appeared in the AU fanfic "The Highwayman."
It was a quiet night at the Buckham household; all the children were in bed after a rough day of playing, and the parents were happily doing their own thing with the little free time they had. Outside, it was perhaps more quiet; even the chorus of crickets seemed to be keeping its volume in check. And then...
"Lionel, could you get the door?"
"I'm busy, honey!"
"Busy! I'm working, love!"
DING DONG DING DONG DINGGGGGG DONG!
The faerie's voice boomed through the front hall of the house, amazingly loud coming from such a petite woman. And apparently the bell-ringer got the message, because the ringing abruptly stopped.
"This had better be important!" she said in a scary-sweet voice as she opened the front door. But there was no one there to receive her threatening words, just the unrelenting blackness of the night outside the small globe of light the porchlight cast.
She was just about to yell into the night at whatever prankster it was that had 'Ring'n'Run' her when she noticed the basket sitting just at the edge of the porchlight's welcoming glow.
"Who is it, Sparrow?" came a man's voice from inside the house. Apparently Lionel had found time in his busy schedule to see what all the hubbub was about.
"It's a child, dear!" said Sparrow. She turned to face the door and held up the contents of the basket for Lionel to see. It was indeed a child, a baby boy with peculiar red hair and bright green eyes, all wrapped up in a soft blanket that matched his eyes.
"Another one??" Lionel said, sounding exasperated. "And this one has red hair, of all things!"
"Oh hush, Lionel. My hair is green!"
"Yes well... that's different," he said sheepishly.
"Look how cute he is! Look at that smile!" She cooed and waggled a finger at the baby, who seemed to be quite alert and was indeed watching her with a huge smile on his face. He brought a badly-controlled hand in the air, and after a few tries managed to grab onto her finger.
"Yes, I guess he is a cute one," Lionel admitted gruffly. "I suppose you want to keep him?"
Silence greeted him, interrupted only by the crickets and the happy gurgling of the baby as he squeezed Sparrow's finger.
He touched her shoulder, and when he got no further reply, lightly spun her around, feeling absolutely no resistance.
"What the hell...?"
Sparrow's eyes were rolled into the back of her head and her jaw was completely slack. Her face could not possibly have looked more vacant. Lionel grabbed her shoulders and worriedly shook her, trying to snap her out of it, but the baby in her arms made it difficult to maneuver.
Acting on impulse, he took the bundled-up child from his wife, pulling it away from her and releasing her finger from its grip. The baby instantly started crying, but he noticed that Sparrow was already looking much better, and disgustedly placed the baby back in its basket, causing the baby to cry even more.
"Lionel Buckham!" Sparrow yelled indignantly, apparently feeling back to normal again. "How dare you treat a baby that way!" She quickly bent over to retrieve the boy, brushing past Lionel's feeble and confused attempts to keep her from the child.
"Didn't you feel what he was doing to you?" Lionel asked incredulously.
"Well of course I did," she said matter-of-factly, slowly rocking the baby back and forth and whispering sweet nothings to try and calm him again. "But, well... I could feel something, almost like he was telling me... Well, he's just hungry, dear."
"What do you mean 'hungry'? He was feeding off of you??"
"Of course! All babies feed off their mothers. There's no need to be alarmed."
"No need to be alarmed?! You looked about ready to pass out!"
"Well, I was caught a little off-guard, but I'm fine, really. Next time I'll just sit down."
"Next time!" Lionel said, in a complete state of disbelief. "You actually want to keep that... thing??"
"He is not a 'thing' Lionel, he's a child. And of course I want to keep him. We can't just leave him on our doorstep, he'll catch cold." She said this as if it was absolutely the most obvious thing in the world.
Lionel sputtered for a moment before shaking his head wildly and turning to enter the house again. "Fine. Fine! Keep the... the... demon-baby," he said as he walked toward the back of the house, and his office. "I have no time to deal with this; I have work to do. But tomorrow we're taking it to the doctor to find out what it is."
"What he is, dear. And he's not a 'demon-baby'. Don't be silly."
Faint grumbling from down the hall was the only answer she got, but she didn't seem to mind.
"You're a cute one, you are!" she happily told the again-smiling baby. "Do you have a name?"
She hadn't quite expected the baby to answer, so she was a little surprised when he raised his other arm up to her, clutching something shiny in his pudgy little hand.
"Oh! What's this?" she said, reaching out for it. "And don't you go feeding when I grab this, you'll have to wait until I'm inside for that, hungry boy!"
She uncurled the boy's hand and took its contents from him without any incident. It seemed to be a pair of dog tags with a name and a number printed on them.
"Such a smart boy, not eating your mummy," she said sweetly, happily stroking his head. "Is this your name here, on these? Cylo? Bit of an odd name, isn't it?"
But the baby smiled when he heard the name, and so her mind was set.
"Oh, you like it, do you? Cylo it is, then! Let's get you inside and into some warmer clothes!"
Cradling the child in one arm, she grabbed his basket and took the both of them into the house, shutting the door with a dainty kick, and once more it was quiet.