A little less than 18 years before
Spike opened his eyes and blinked into the darkness of the bedroom he shared with Buffy in their San Francisco apartment. Their thick sun-blocking curtains were pulled tight, making the room so inky black that it was even a little difficult for Spike to see with vampire vision.
He grunted and leaned over his bedside table to turn on a lamp, careful not to topple over an empty wine glass.
"What is that bloody noise?" he said, groggily.
"Mrgeurhuh?" said Buffy into her pillow.
"That noise," said Spike, eyes scanning the room.
It was soft but so fast, like a tiny heartbeat, Spike realized. It was too fast to be the cats, he knew their sound. Probably a mouse or a rat but...he couldn't smell any. He took a big sniff. Nothing.
Spike rolled on to the floor and peered around, hoping to see the little bugger this way. He crawled around a bit but couldn't find anything.
"Spike," said Buffy with a bleary yawn. "What the heck are you doing?"
"You don't hear it?" He asked, looking up at her.
Buffy closed her eyes and sleepily stretched back into her pillow. "Hear what?"
"That bleeding," he stuck his head under the bed. "Noise. A mouse or something."
"Nope," said Buffy, eyes still closed. "I'm blissfully unaware of the noise. I'm no-hearing girl."
Spike rolled his eyes. Then, he saw something under the bed glow. He slid his arm under the bed frame to grab it and pulled out a marble figurine of a woman. Spike vaguely recognized it as the gift that strange monk gave them at their wedding a few weeks ago.
Must have gotten displaced during their honeymoon activities, he thought with a smirk.
Now it had a slightly orange glow about it, though Spike couldn't figure out from where. He brought it up to his ear. While bizarre, the glowing knick knack was not the source of the noise.
"Uh, pet," he said, brushing hair off of Buffy's face.
"Didjya find the sound?" she asked, opening one eye.
"Not yet, just this," he lifted his scarred eyebrow and handed her the figurine.
Buffy took it from him with a confused look.
"This is that thing from the monks," she said. "Why is it all glow-tastic?" she added, squinting at it.
Spike knew Buffy wasn't expecting an answer, and he was distracted by the sound, which seemed stronger on this side of the bed.
Buffy kept inspecting the gift. It looked like a woman with long, straight hair wearing robes kind of like Dawn had the night Glory opened the portal. There were some weird symbols on the bottom that she couldn't quite make out.
"Hey, do you know this language," Buffy asked Spike. She hadn't realized he had put his head on her stomach and seemed to be listening intently.
"Found the noise," he said. Spike looked like he was in shock and his voice sounded weird. The last time it sounded close to this he was holding a giant cross bare chested in a Sunnydale church.
"Ah, the mysterious sounds of my stomach digesting crispy fried pork," Buffy said, trying to lighten the mood.
"No, not that, love," said Spike, his voice still all weird. "Heartbeat."
Buffy gulped. What was he saying? It wasn't possible. Although… when was the last time she had...
"How can you be so sure?" Buffy said, shaking the thought from her head. Spike still hadn't lifted his head from her stomach and it was starting to freak her out.
He chuckled. "I'm a vampire. I know a heartbeat when I hear it, love."
Spike finally picked his head up to look at Buffy.
"Are you crying?" she asked.
"No," Spike took a deep breath. "Okay, maybe a little."
"Don't worry," Buffy said, even though she had the most major case of the wiggins she could even remember. She ran a hand through his messy curls. "There has to be some sort of explanation for this."
"I'm not worried," said Spike as he gently cupped Buffy's face and pulled her in for a kiss.
xxxxxxxxxx
Back at the party…
"And then Spike, you did this really cool move in the van where you, like, grabbed one of the knight's swords when he put it through the roof," Dawn was saying as she held out a bottle of beer for Spike to drink with a straw.
"Not too much of that," said Giles. "He still has to fight Angelus when we send him back."
"But wait," Spike said. "You said these monks sent the key that Glory bint wanted to Buffy and I as a...baby. So, the key would be her," he inclined his head towards Annie.
She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.
"No, I'm the key," said Dawn. "Was the key."
"Didn't you say you were Buffy's sis?" said Spike, leaning forwards for another sip.
"Yeah," said Willow. "This is where time starts going a little kablooey."
"Kablooey?" said Spike.
Willow nodded.
"Well," he said. "This is really nothing like Citizen Kane."
"So you're telling me," said Xander, suddenly getting up from the couch. Everyone turned to look at him. "That Ben was Glory?"
xxxxxxxxxx
12 years before
Spike looked over from the boiling pot of pasta in front of him to look at his daughter. The five-year-old was sitting at the kitchen table, coloring with a thoughtful expression.
"Okay, little bit," he said, turning back to the stove. "How about this one — Elysian."
"E-L-Y-S-I-A-N," the girl spelled out.
"Magnificent," said Spike, his face spreading into a smile.
"M-A-G-N-I-F-," Annie bit her lip, thinking. "I-S, no," she looked at Spike and her eyes lit up. "C! C-E-N-T."
"I meant you, pet, but very good," said Spike, smiling proudly.
He scooped the pasta on two plates, placing one in front of the girl and sitting across from her with another. His mug was already filled and he grabbed a handful of Weetabix from a box on the table to sprinkle in.
"Don't know why your mum is always going on about sending you to school. I'm as good a teacher as any of those ninnys," he said gesturing to the school conveniently located across from their apartment.
"I think she wants me to learn math or something," said the girl, jabbing her fork into the pasta.
"Oh pish-tosh," Spike.
When Buffy first had the baby, Spike was a little nervous at the thought of taking care of the little niblet all day while the Slayer was at work. But Buffy made more money as a personal trainer to San Francisco's wealthy and demanding than Spike did as a private eye, so it was decided.
He still took on a case once in a while, but Spike found that he actually much preferred this stay-at-home dad gig, especially since the diaper bit had ended. He got to watch a lot of telly, tell stories and play games. And the company wasn't bad.
Spike looked at his daughter. He had always been a fool for love, but this was different. It was everything.
"Oi," he said, grabbing the kitchen TV remote. "Passions is almost on."
Spike had found reruns on one of their gazillion cable channels and made Annie promise not to tell Buffy that they watched it every Pasta Passions Thursday.
"Yay!" Annie's head popped up as the screen flickered to life.
Just as the program started, crashing sounds erupted from Spike and Buffy's bedroom.
Spike sprung to his feet, a concerned look on his face. Every now and then some vamp or demon would get the bright idea to ambush the Slayer at home.
Too early for a vamp, thought Spike, eyeing the bedroom door.
"Dad, what's going on?" asked Annie.
"Not sure love," said Spike. "Not to worry, I'll sort it right out. Just stay right here and keep watching the telly." He kissed the top of her head before heading over to the sound.
When Spike swung open the bedroom door, he didn't find a demon. Instead, a flustered looking man in brown robes was trying to escape through their window.
"No you don't," said Spike, his skin sizzling lightly as he yanked the monk back into the room.
"I apologize, Champion," said the man in a strange but familiar accent. "We did not mean to disturb you, only to monitor the key."
"The key?" Spike was still holding the monk by his collar as realization dawned on him. "You're one of those monks," he said, setting the man down. "Anti-Glory clerics and whatnot."
The man nodded.
"Fraid your key isn't here mate," said Spike, thinking of Dawn, who lived just down the road with Xander and their own daughter. "Wasn't all that handled already?"
"But, the key is here," said the monk, staring at Annie over Spike's shoulder.
"No," said Spike, his hands on his hips. For all their complicated magic, these monks didn't seem too bright. "That's my daughter. The key was — well the key was someone else, and like I said, that was all squared away years ago."
"We made the key human," said the monk, who picked up the figurine from Spike and Buffy's wedding night, which stood on Buffy's nightstand. "With the help of the Slayer and a Champion."
Spike's brows furrowed as he watched the monk.
"You will protect her for the next nine years, until the time is right to put her in the sacred time with her new memories. It is the only way," the monk smiled absurdly.
Spike felt like he was going to be sick.
"You people are bloody insane," was all he could manage to say. "The only way for what?"
"The only way the Slayer will make the right choice at the right time," said the monk. "You remember."
He did remember. Spike remembered Buffy jumping off the tower, seeing her dead and limp body on the ground. Remembered saving her in his dreams every night.
Spike felt his arm shoot up, a fist connecting powerfully with the monk's nose and knocking him out.
"Annie," he called "Bring Daddy some rope."
