12 years ago, still

It seemed like they had been sitting there for a long time. Spike's arm was curled around Buffy's waist and their hands were balled together on her knee.

With every new thing the monk had said, life seemed to get more confusing. More painful.

He told Buffy and Spike they had already fulfilled part of their duty by sacrificing themselves — she jumped from the tower, he burned up the Hellmouth. When they came back, their bodies were the same, but different. Something about that mystical "suntan" Tara had explained to Buffy about all those years ago when Spike's chip stopped working for her.

Normal people couldn't have a baby that was strong enough to hold intense energy like the key. Normal demons couldn't either. Pretty much just a resurrected Slayer and a regenerated ensouled vampire, apparently.

"So when you guys told me that you made the key, what you really meant is I made the key," Buffy had shouted at the monk.

Then they sent the key back in time to Buffy because the key needed to open the portal on exactly that night. And Buffy needed to go through the portal and die that night to change the fabric of time and please the Powers That Be.

A sort of weird time loop, created to sew up the portal for good. Or something like that. Buffy pretty much thought it was the dumbest thing she had ever heard.

She and Spike had releases the monk after hours going in circles and sent him off into the night.

Buffy looked around their apartment. For the past years things had been so normal. She never thought she would have a baby or be able to raise it. She never thought she could have a stable life with a vampire.

It worked though.

On the coffee table in front of them was one of Buff's favorite photos, Annie on Spike's chest. She remembered finally accepting that she was pregnant after Spike had insisted for days. Once she heard the heartbeat for herself she kind of understood why he got all teary eyed about it.

Spike had always been around to help, even when he was all soulless and evil, even back in when she was in high school and had to fight Angelus. Buffy was still surprised at how supportive he was, how comfortable it was to talk with him about bills and diapers. Even their little fights were fun.

And he loved Annie so much. She remembered that day in the hospital, when Spike took her in his arms. When he looked at the baby like nothing else mattered Buffy was a little overcome with happiness that her baby wouldn't grow up with a useless dad like hers.

Sure, the baby looked a lot like Dawn had, but they were family. That was normal. They never imagined...

"It doesn't make sense," said Buffy, turning to Spike. She wasn't crying yet, but she could feel tears hot in her throat.

"When has it ever, pet?" Spike let go of her hand to brush hair off of her face. Buffy was tempted to let the tears run but she stopped herself. She lurched up from the couch and started pacing.

"No, really. Spike, it doesn't make sense. It can't…" her voice cracked. "Dawn…"

"I know, love." Spike looked up at her, his face full of love and sadness.

Dawn. Spike supposed that made some sense, actually. He was always strangely protective of the little bit. Even when he didn't have a soul and Buffy was gone. Never would have imagined she was his daughter, though.

He scratched at a nicotine patch on his arm.

She wasn't, not really. Sure, the monks had used Buffy and Spike to make their key, but parents are the ones who raise you.

Like they had raised Annie.

The monks could send her back in time and mess with everyone's memory, but they couldn't erase his daughter, their memories. Well, they could actually. That's exactly what that little bugger said they would do.

Spike stared at Annie's bedroom door. A few hours ago, he had carried her to bed after she fell asleep in front of the telly.

"Love you, Dad," she said sleepily and softly as he had set her down.

Buffy followed his gaze and finally, her tears came.

"Nine more years...Spike, I can't…they can't take her."

"They won't," Spike got up and folded Buffy into his arms. "We've saved the whole world a mess of times, Slayer. We can save one little girl."

"But what about Dawn?"

xxxxxxxxxx

At the party

"They're the same person?" Shirty, the cat, was purring softly on Spike's lap as his eyes darted between Annie and Dawn.

He loved a good soap opera and was maybe a skosh invested in the strange tale these Scoobies were spinning. This bit though… even Dru couldn't come up with something this looney.

"Well, not exactly," Giles was saying as he again compulsively wiped his glasses. "Or at all, at this point."

Annie snorted at Spike's highly confused face. Seeing her dad like this was...majorly weird. Interesting though. Spike always made it seem like he was some terrible monster before he got the soul, especially before he got the chip.

This wasn't the dad she knew, but he was still kind of fun and he didn't seem, like, evil evil. And he wasn't asking her if she felt ok every five seconds like he had the past week, which was a nice change of pace.

"We don't look like the same person, do we?"

Spike squinted at her.

They didn't. Annie was definitely shorter, closer to Buffy's size. It looked like she had used some of Spike's bleach to make her darker hair more blonde but it was also curlier than Dawn's. Her nose too, was much more like Buffy's.

"Buffy thinks I'm taller than everyone because you were obsessed with giving her vitamins when she was pregnant," said Dawn with a shrug.

"Oh god, the vitamins," laughed Willow, who was mixing some powders in various stone bowls with Frankie's help. "I never thought I would have so many conversations about vitamins."

"I even considered changing careers to be a black market vitamin salesman," said Xander as he came back from the kitchen with another box of pizza.

"Right. Time traveling holy men. Obsessed with getting the Slayer vitamins," said Spike, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Running out of ideas to stall me, I see."

Shirty yelped judgmentally as Spike squirmed against the ropes.

"Bloody cat," he said, exasperated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the black thing around the size of a pack of smokes that Annie carried around with her light up. He wondered if it was part of the spell. The other girl, Dawn's daughter, had one too and appeared to never peel her eyes from it.

Hey, I'm gonna meet Cole for a minute, said the text Joyce had just sent to Annie. Then, another: cover 4 me plz?

Duh, Annie typed back, trying not to act surprised.

Goody goody Joyce wasn't usually the type to sneak out, but Annie knew this whole story gave her the wiggins. What was really weird was that she still seemed to care about a Sunnydale guy who didn't even go to college. Maybe she was becoming a more tolerable person.

Also don't mention this to anyone ever, Joyce sent.

Annie bit her lips to suppress a giggle. Guess not, she thought to herself.

She shot back an eye roll emoji and pushed herself up from the couch. Annie then stretched and walked over to timewarp Spike to pick Shirty up from his lap.

She ignored the way Spike flinched and side-eyed her green-tinged bandages when she came near.

Spike couldn't help caring for her whatever Annie was. A figment of his imagination? A mirage? A glamour? A demon?

She seemed so human. Why didn't he want to drain her blood and rip through these blasted ropes?

As impossible as it was that Annie was his daughter… and how absurd the explanations for her existence had been so far...if he had one…a daughter, he could imagine her being like this...

No, he told himself.

Not only was he a vampire, but this girl's mum was obviously Buffy. The Slayer. His enemy. His every thought, with her bouncy hair and her righteousness, the way she punched him like nobody he had ever met and that look in her eyes when he called her cutie…

The love of my life.

Nope. Spike did not want that thought. Not at all. He had been avoiding it all night, since he saw the bloody wedding photo. Maybe since Buffy told her mum they were in a band together.

Bullocks.

So, he flinched from Annie's casual closeness. Her presence seemed to keep him sucked into this strange delusion. He needed to leave.

"Hey, noisy guy," Annie was saying to the cat as she looked into its eyes. "Be nice to the guests."

She was a bit of an odd bird, maybe, but Spike respected that.

Annie plopped Shirty back down on the ground and leaned against Spike's chair. Like she had hoped, the move kept everyone's eyes on her, and her jugular.

"So, where were we?" Annie asked the room as Joyce slipped out of the back door.

xxxxxxxxxx

12-ish years ago

"Thanks for coming, everyone," Buffy said. Her voice was raspy from days of crying but she was determined.

Spike's hand stayed on top of Buffy's, steadying her. He always loved to see her in full Slayer mode, but today it was hard. He had been crying too.

Faces stared back at them from around the dining room table in Andrew and Lorne's Los Angeles home: Angel, Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Giles, Faith and Robin Wood. They were close to Angel's offices but far away enough to, hopefully, avoid detection.

An impressive selection of hors d'oeuvres remained untouched at the center of the table.

"Hey B," said Faith. Robin gave her a warning look, which she ignored. "Giles filled us in on the sitch and… you know… woah… but I don't know what we can do."

Buffy gave her a detached, sad look that was almost a smile and almost a frown.

"I don't either," said Buffy. "But I wanted all the people I trust most here. I'll take anything I can get."

Faith nodded with a furrowed brow. It was still hard to accept that Buffy actually trusted her, but B seemed sincere.

"Hopefully, we won't need muscle, dear Faith," said Andrew, settling down in a seat near Spike. "We have a plan," he said, patting the vampire on his shoulder.

Spike fought an impulse to glare at Andrew.

"We do," Spike said, taking a deep breath. "Andrew here was able to put Buffy's consciousness in a robot, back in San Francisco," he began.

Andrew smiled proudly.

"A robot?" Dawn looked horrified. "Annie is going to be a robot?"

Dawn had been, understandably, weirded out by the news about Annie. She felt like she had stolen her niece's body or something.

"No, Dawnie," said Willow from across the table. "Probably not," she added..

Spike closed his eyes.

Not going to cry in front of Angel.

"She's not going to be a bloody robot," he said between gritted teeth. "That's where Fred comes in. She's going to make us a clone."

Fred smiled nervously. She was just starting to be able to assert herself over Illyria and some days it could be a struggle. Right now she felt like herself, though, and it wasn't really helping.

Dawn didn't look any less horrified at the mention of a clone.

"A clone?" she repeated quietly. Xander put an arm around her as she went pale.

Buffy pulled out three vials from her bag and pushed them across the table to the scientist.

"The samples," she said. "From Spike, Annie and I."

"Thank you, Buffy," said Fred with a warm smile. "I'm going to do my best. Really. But," she lowered her eyes. "The technology we have isn't very advanced and I'm not sure how this DNA will translate, since it has been mystically altered."

"I know you can do it," said Spike.

"And I'll help with the mystical and computer-ical stuff," said Willow.

"We might need a sample from Dawn as well," said Fred, looking down at the vials.

Dawn closed her eyes and gave the tiniest of nods.

"It's a brilliant plan, really," Giles interjected. "There are challenges, however, and we should prepare…"

"For what?" spat Spike.

"Any possibility," said Giles somberly. "For instance, are you sure the consciousness matrix will be compatible with a human brain?" he asked Andrew.

"Not yet," Andrew said. "But we have time," he added.

Buffy and Spike cringed. Nine years. Less.

"What if it doesn't work?" asked Dawn.

"It's not that bad to be a robot," said Andrew. "People love Lieutenant Commander Data."

"And R2-D2," said Xander. "Nevermind," he added as Dawn shot him a disgusted look.

"It's going to work," said Spike.

He couldn't take it anymore. This was what it was like to be in the Scoobies, Spike knew. But he just couldn't.

He got up in a swirl of leather and headed for the balcony to angrily light a cigarette. There he stared out at the glittering city lights and let the smoke envelop him for the first time in more than five years.

Buffy sighed. Spike had hardly slept or eaten anything since the monk's visit. She would let him have a moment.

"You guys really need to try the crab cakes," said Lorne as he placed his hands on Andrew's shoulders and watched Spike storm out. "They're special delivery from The Ivy."

Willow smiled at him apologetically and Xander gamely shuffled one onto his plate. Then, Buffy heard Angel clear his throat at the other end of the table.

"I'm, uh…" he avoided eye contact with anyone, especially Buffy. "I'm going to check on him."

There were surprised glances around the room, but nobody commented.

Angel didn't really know what he planned to say as he stepped onto the balcony. He and Spike had a lot of history, most of it ranging from annoying to psychotic. At this moment, however, Angel understood Captain Peroxide more than he thought would ever be possible.

"Hey," he said to Spike's leather-clad back.

Profound, Angel, he said to himself.

"Here to tell me to calm down, Peaches?" Spike asked without turning around. Angel could see a plume of smoke drift away from him into the night air.

"No, not that."

"What then? Here to help the helpless?"

"Just...I know what it feels like, Spike." Angel leaned on the railing next to him.

"I know you do," Spike looked down. Angel's son, Connor, helped him on cases in San Francisco and called him "weird Uncle Spike." But. Angel and Connor weren't close like Spike and Annie.

"I," Angel paused. "When I gave up Connor, I thought it was the best choice. I still think it was the safest, but I regret it too. All the time."

Spike looked at him with curiosity.

"You would do anything for her," Angel said.

"I would," Spike agreed.

"We're going to make this work," said Angel. "Any way we can. I promise it isn't helpless."

"Thank you," said the blonde vampire in barely more than a whisper. For the first time in more than 100 years, he actually felt grateful for the big forheaded-nit.

Angel and Spike gazed silently together into the inky black Los Angeles sky.