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Chapter 14

The house was quiet when the group arrived home, the sun just beginning to bathe the sky in shades of pink and orange as Giles slipped into the kitchen to make the phone call to Travers. Joyce wasn't awake yet, and for that matter, neither was Eden.

Dawn was so going to freak out when she saw this, Buffy thought, before she remembered that Dawn was over at Janice's house. She hadn't actually worried about Dawn all night; for the first time in recent memory, she hadn't thought of her every minute, hadn't driven herself crazy thinking of all of the ways that the mysterious crazy woman could get to her. She felt guilty about it, and thought briefly of calling Janice's house to make sure that Dawn was okay, before reigning in her worry. Surely Dawn had checked in with her mother, and hadn't Buffy been a little bit preoccupied tonight? It was probably best that Dawn didn't see Eden anyway. There were enough things to worry about where Dawn was concerned—the last thing Buffy needed was Dawn running around behind her when this was all over, reminding her of the super-adorable little girl that would only exist if Buffy gave in and admitted she had a thing for Spike.

But she would be happy about it. Buffy knew she would.

Spike settled a softly snoring Eden onto the sofa, where she curled herself around a pillow and sighed. Buffy's eyes were glued to her. She looked so peaceful, all anxiety from the events of the previous 24 hours seemingly erased as she slept.

"You made the call?" Asher asked, as Giles returned.

"Yes," he answered, his eyes on the sleeping girl as well. "I fabricated a ridiculous story about a weapon. Buffy, if Travers asks when you see him, pretend you have a new sword, okay?"

"Uh-huh."

"She has a heartbeat," Giles said, watching Eden.

"Yes," Asher replied.

"Can she go in the sun?"

"Yes."

"Vampire hearing?"

"Yes."

"Sight? Can she see in the dark?"

"You know," Asher said, rolling his eyes. "Since it's clear that you have some questions for me, perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere, and allow Spike and Buffy to get some rest, at least." The pair of Watchers turned into the dining room, where Buffy could no longer hear Giles' rapid-fire questions. Spike could still hear them, though he was too enamored with his girls to pay proper attention. Who cared what abilities the sprog had or didn't have? They'd find out soon enough anyway. From what he could see, she was bloody perfect, and that was all that mattered.

He sat on the floor facing the sofa, and before Buffy knew what she was doing, she was cross-legged on the floor beside him. The two warriors sat silent, gazing, enraptured, at the sleeping face of their daughter. The thing that neither of them was ever supposed to have, and there she was, in the flesh. Her pink pajamas with white polka-dots were a testament to the fact that she really had been pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, the white spots now smeared with dirt and grime from the time she'd spent in caverns and half-collapsed buildings.

Spike had been alive (or undead, at least) a very long time, but he couldn't remember ever having a more perfect moment, not as a human, and certainly not as a vampire. Sitting in the glow of the lamplight, next to Buffy, watching their daughter sleep. He was perplexed to all hell as to how his life got so damn good in the future, but he'd have plenty of time to think on it later. Right now, he'd never felt better. He'd made love to his Slayer—with his Slayer. He'd enjoyed a good brawl (even if he couldn't take part the way he'd have liked), he'd been told he would have this, this magic. This happiness. He couldn't wipe the contented smile from his face, couldn't stop his muscles, sated from making love to the Slayer and from the thrill of a fight, from relaxing so that his body sagged and his eyelids slowly drifted shut.

He didn't want to go to sleep, couldn't imagine that he wouldn't wake up in the morning and find that this had all been some wonderful, buggered-up dream. Not when everything he ever wanted was finally right here in front of him.

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Joyce was stuck, four steps from the bottom, her housecoat wrapped around her tightly and her mouth open. She couldn't speak, because she didn't know what to say. She could only stare at the unlikely trio curled up on the sofa. Spike, the vampire Buffy supposedly detested, had his head on the arm rest, his boots and duster in a heap on the floor, one arm stretched underneath the head of the golden-haired child who was nestled against him. His other arm was curled around Buffy, who was snuggled around him, head resting on his stomach, legs tangled with his. The morning sunlight attempted to peek in through the window, but the blinds and curtains were closed tightly to prevent the vampire from going up in flames.

She couldn't imagine waking to find anything stranger. Or so she thought, until the very-well dressed man in dread locks rounded the corner and wished her a good morning. It took all of his calming impulses to keep her quiet and steer her away from the sleeping spectacle, past Giles, who had fallen asleep with his head on the dining table, and into the kitchen with a complete stranger.

From there, he introduced himself and attempted to explain, assuring her that Giles could verify the unlikely story, once he was awake. Then she'd shaken her head many times and tried to argue with Asher that there was no way Buffy would end up married to Spike. And so, finally, he caved and told her the entire story, as he knew it. He didn't mention that, sadly, she wouldn't be around to see it all, but since he knew it to be truth, he felt no trepidation in sharing with her everything he knew.

So she'd made coffee, and he'd talked and talked. About the spell that had made Slayers all over the world. About Buffy defeating the First Evil, about Spike's soul and his sacrifice. How lost Buffy had been when she'd thought Spike was gone forever. Giles had tried to convince her to travel, to enjoy her newfound freedom, but she'd been a shell. Empty. She'd settled in England to help Giles found the first Slayer Academy. And then Spike had shown up at her doorstep, somehow resurrected by the Powers That Be. They'd been married so quickly after that, doing it in secret before anyone even knew that Spike was back. Married in the world of humans, bound too in the demon world. No one could tear them apart, and after Spike had saved the world with his death, no one would even want to try.

"It's remarkable," Joyce said, tiptoeing past where Giles was snoring in the dining room and back to the living room to stare at little family on the sofa. Even though Asher had given her the brief story, she just couldn't wrap her head around it. Her daughter, the Vampire Slayer, was married to this, this vampire. This very dangerous vampire.

This vampire who apparently worshipped Buffy, who treated her well and fought at her side. And they'd made this lovely child together. Her granddaughter.

Buffy didn't die slaying; at least, not in the foreseeable future. She didn't die slaying and she had some sort of normal life and a man who loved her and a child. She had those things that Joyce had wanted for her.

She would have known the child belonged to Buffy and Spike even if the girl hadn't been cuddled up against them. Even sleeping, she looked just like them. And Joyce knew, for the first time since she'd learned about her daughter's calling, that things would be okay. She felt it. Even if it wasn't completely normal, it was right.

Joyce shook her head, returning to the kitchen, where Asher sat. She shook her head, refilling his coffee cup. "I can't believe it. I just can't believe it."

"It works out, everything, for both of them," Asher assured her. "Their daughter is proof of that."

"But Eden is a fighter too," Joyce said. "How can that be right? Another little girl burdened with this horrible destiny?"

Asher beamed with pride. "She's the best fighter there is, or she will be. She's prepared for her destiny. Look at her parents. They won't let anything happen to her. She will change the world."

"And they're happy?" she asked.

He nodded. "I've never seen two people happier."

She sighed and shook her head. "Another vampire. And I spent all of that time trying to get her away from Angel."

Asher's face clouded. "Yeah, she doesn't really have much to do with him anymore. He's a bit…morally ambiguous these days, can't really tell if he's fighting for us or against us. And that soul of his is so flighty. Plus, you know, to say that Spike doesn't care for him would be an understatement of epic proportions."

"I always knew he was bad news. Angel, not Spike." Joyce took a sip of her coffee and shook her head again. "My granddaughter is half-vampire."

"Yes."

"She's beautiful, though."

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A timid knock on the door caused Buffy to jump up, startled, into a seated position. Daylight. Morning. Spike. On her sofa. He stirred at the second knock on the door, but his face relaxed into a soft smile and he buried his face in Eden's hair. Had she ever seen him look so content? It was a gorgeous sight, really. She moved quickly to the door, desperate not to wake the sleeping pair.

Willow or Xander, she thought, twisting the doorknob.

It wasn't.

She found herself face-to-face with Riley.

"Buffy," he said. He looked somehow nervous and angry at the same time. "I guess we need to talk."

She didn't move to let him in, her own expression wide-eyed and sleepy. "Uh, Riley…" she trailed off.

He didn't know what he was doing here. He knew where they stood, he'd heard it, for God's sake. Heard her moaning another man's name. Not even a man—a creature. He'd left Spike's crypt and gone to Willy's, gotten drunker than he could ever remember, and finally let that dirty vampire woman take a bite of him. He'd never admit that he could sort-of understand, now, the fascination with vamps. That darkness, that passion, that need.

He'd felt so dirty afterwards, in the early morning sunlight as he left the abandoned house. Which made him wonder if Buffy was feeling the same way, if this had been some terrible night where they'd both walked on the side of darkness and learned that they belonged in the light. If they could somehow put this disgusting episode behind them. Could he forgive her, knowing she'd had a vampire inside of her? It made his stomach turn, but maybe it hadn't gone that far. Maybe it was just...he didn't even want to think about it.

But hadn't he let a vampire inside of him? He rubbed at the mark on his forearm, a spot he'd chosen, knowing it would be easily hidden beneath his shirt sleeves. It burned. It felt good, too. It made him feel shame in a way he'd never thought he could, and it also made him feel an undeniable pull to turn around and go back to that abandoned house so that his vampire could have another drink. And if she went too far…so what? He shuddered to think that the pull could be so strong. He was disgusted with himself.

His head pounded with the force of his hangover, and he was still wearing yesterday's clothes. But he'd had to see Buffy, had to know what was happening between them. He'd hoped with every fiber of his heart and body that seeing her in the daylight would make everything okay again. That they would be okay again. If he could only show her how much he loved her, then she would know that she belonged with him and not with anyone else. And not with anything else.

Except here she was, with her mussed hair, wearing a black tee shirt that was too big on her small frame to be her own. She was wearing the vampire's shirt. She wasn't even hiding what she'd done. Riley couldn't keep himself from leaning slightly forward, from looking. And there they were. The vampire, asleep on her sofa. With the child.

"Oh," he said, slowly. "Or maybe now isn't a good time."

"Really not," Buffy said, turning pink. He couldn't tell if she was embarrassed or just uncomfortable. "Riley, I…I just…this is all really weird. The weirdest. Could we talk later? Tonight, maybe?"

His jaw was clenched, and he felt like shouting, but his head wouldn't let him. It was all he could do to keep from heaving on her doorstep as he nodded, anger glinting in his eyes. "Sure," he said. "Later."

Buffy closed the door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She could smell coffee in the kitchen. Okay, she thought. Time to try and explain this to Mom. But when she walked into the kitchen, she found her mother sipping coffee and laughing with Asher.

"Good morning," Joyce said, a light smile playing on her lips. "Something you'd like to tell me?"

Buffy flushed. "I…well…"

"I'm kidding, honey," Joyce said. "Asher filled me in. Quite a story. Guess it explains the vampire and the strange little girl on my sofa, huh?"

Buffy couldn't have been more surprised if a demon had burst into their kitchen at that moment. "You…you know about all of this, and you're okay with it?"

"Well…it's not what I would have picked for you, if I'm being honest. But, seeing my granddaughter…here…now…with my own eyes…well, I just can't imagine things happening any other way."

Buffy laughed, a surprised, half-crazy gasp and brushed her eyes quickly to catch any tears before they could escape. "Thanks, Mom." It felt weird to thank her mother for approving of something she herself hadn't actually done yet, but it was the only thing she could say.

Just then, Spike and Eden stumbled drowsily into the kitchen, Eden rubbing her eyes just as Buffy had moments before with one hand and gripping Spike's thumb with the other. Spike's hair was tousled with sleepy curls. He looked less like a predator and more like a little boy himself with his bare feet and half-opened eyes.

"Morning, Joyce," he said, casually, as though nothing were unusual at all.

"Gramma!" Eden squealed, dropping Spike's hand and running to Buffy's mother. Joyce couldn't contain her smile as she knelt down to Eden's level. "Well, hi there," she said, studying the girl. Those big blue eyes. "Remarkable," she said, quietly.

Asher watched nervously, so thankful that future-Buffy had shown her daughter so many times the few photos of Joyce she'd salvaged from the ruins of Sunnydale. And the sketches Spike had drawn, of Joyce holding an axe. Joyce making hot cocoa. Joyce with a scarf around her head. Joyce hugging Dawn. This whole event would be destroyed if Eden blurted out the truth—that Joyce wasn't with them in England. That Joyce wasn't alive at all.

Eden's three-year-old mind couldn't possibly understand everything that was happening, and Asher hadn't even gotten to speak with her yet, to try to explain that she was here ahead of her time. But to his surprise and extreme delight, she seemed just very simply pleased to see her grandmother.

She'd been given an unexpectedly wonderful gift, and she somehow seemed to know not to question it.

Joyce scooped Eden up in her arms, Eden playing with Joyce's brown curls. Spike hovered in the corner of the kitchen, suddenly uncertain without the little girl clinging to him.

"Have a seat, Spike," Joyce said, sensing his unease. If he was going to be her son-in-law one day, she guessed she'd better go ahead and get used to him. She wouldn't admit to anyone how secretly pleased she was with this turn of events. "I'll make you some hot chocolate."

Giles was last to wake, mumbling a "good morning" and seeming rather offended that he hadn't been present for the morning's secret-sharing between Joyce and Asher.

Eden couldn't seem to keep her eyes off Buffy, confusion swimming in her bright blue eyes. God, she looked so much like Spike. It should be illegal for a child to be so amazingly beautiful. It made her think of Spike as beautiful. She glanced at him, saw his eyes following Eden, drinking her in, as though to memorize her. To keep her, once she was gone. The expression of awe never left his face.

Joyce set Eden down while she reached into the cabinet for empty mugs, and Eden toddled over to Buffy, tugging at her hand.

"Mummy," she said. Spike smirked. It was all too obvious that Eden had a British accent.

Buffy stared at her in surprise. She'd never been good with children. But she was a mother. It still hadn't sunk in. One day, this little girl would be hers.

"Um…yeah?" She leaned down to better hear the girl.

"Mummy, where did the baby go?"

Buffy looked at the little girl, extremely confused and not sure how to answer. "Huh?"

Asher intercepted Eden smoothly, pulling the child into his arms and settling her on his lap. "Now, now, Eden...it's okay, I promise. Let's not worry about that right now, okay?"

"What's she talking about?" Buffy asked. "Did Sahjhan bring another child? Should we have been looking for two?"

"Nothing, nothing," Asher muttered, shaking his head and giving Eden a look that usually worked to keep her quiet.

"What baby, sweetie?" Buffy asked, looking to Eden for the answer.

The little girl looked extremely concerned, her cheeks turning pink and her eyes watering as she held out an arm and pointed at Buffy's stomach.

"The one that was in your belly."

Buffy's eyes widened as it all became just too much for one young woman to process, even one who happened to be the Vampire Slayer.

She fainted.





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