Summary: Sequel to Ahead of Her Time. Meeting Eden has changed the way Buffy sees Spike. But with Buffy rushing the relationship, Spike itching for his soul, Glory after Dawn, and Riley out for vengeance, how will they even make it to next week-much less to the future they've been promised?

Disclaimer: The story is mine, but the characters aren't. BTVS belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

Author's Note: So, it only took a few years for me to get to this sequel! If you haven't already, then read Ahead of Her Time first; otherwise, this won't make much sense. Fair warning: this story is not complete yet. I'm not entirely sure where it's going, but I wanted to explore this world further. Hope you enjoy!

Awaiting Eden

London, 2008 - Prologue

They waited.

Buffy held Spike's hand in a grip tight enough to crush the bones of any ordinary man. Her other hand rested protectively on her growing stomach. It was enough that the demon had gotten to her daughter. No way would anything harm her son.

They waited. Giles paced back and forth in front of the spot where Asher and Eden would appear. If it had all gone as planned. If the time travel thingy had been accurate enough to get Asher to the exact time and place as Eden. If the machine was really powerful enough to bring them both back. If Asher had found her before the time-shifting demon whose name Buffy couldn't even pronounce passed Eden along to the First. Too many ifs.

They waited. Giles' private library had never seemed more oppressive, books and brown leather and dark wood closing in on Buffy until she felt like she could hardly breathe. She needed her daughter back. Now. All the measures they'd taken to keep her safe: the wards, the charms, the guards, the alarms. All for nothing, because something had gotten to her anyway. What kind of mother would let her child be carried away in the middle of the night? Buffy was the strongest woman in the whole world, the original Slayer, and it wasn't enough. How careless, how selfish of her, of Spike, to prepare for another child when they couldn't even protect the one they already had. It was all her fault…

"Not your fault, luv," Spike growled into her ear. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her against him, her cheek smashing into the smooth cool leather of his duster. "Not anyone's fault…"

Except it was, Spike thought. It was his fault. He was supposed to keep his family safe at all costs. He was a master vampire, for fuck's sake! Faster, stronger, better than he'd been in his entire unlife. His gorgeous wife was pregnant again—bloody miraculous—and he'd promised her that he would fight while she couldn't, that he would be on guard against whatever nasties might arise while she wasn't at her violent, glorious best. He had the whole Slayer Academy as back up—Asher and Giles and Faith and more baby slayers than he could fucking count. And with all that, he'd still managed to muck it up. He'd still managed to lose Eden, still managed to let that demon out of the academy—out of this time!—right under his nose. Sleeping, he'd been, holding his wife close, sleeping the sleep of the completely and utterly useless.

He hadn't thought of Angelus in a while, of those days when they'd had their own perverse, disgusting "family," but he thought of him now, thought of the words Angelus had once used to describe the younger vampire. Careless. Thoughtless. Not worthy of being turned, and for the first time, Spike couldn't help but agree. He wanted to slam his fist into a wall, wanted to go out and find a demon and rip its head off, tear it limb from bloody limb. He had to keep it together, though. Buffy needed him. So he pretended to be calm, pretended he wasn't harboring this rage, this guilt.

She could feel it though, no matter how much she might allow him to pretend otherwise. The same way he could feel her blaming herself, could feel all that fear. It was the magic of the claim, binding them together so tightly that emotionally, it was hard to tell where one of them stopped and the other began.

"Where are they, Watcher?" Spike asked, running one hand through his hair.

"One minute, thirty-eight seconds," Giles said, checking his watch as he paced. "I've done everything, programmed the device for their return. Just another moment and we'll know."

Know whether our daughter is still alive, Buffy thought. If she is lost in time somewhere. If she'll ever come back to us. She thought of Angel's son, Connor, of how he had been pulled into that hell dimension and how when Angel had gotten him back, Connor had been a teenager already and all of those years in between were just…gone. Gone. Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back the sob that threatened to escape.

"You should have sent me," Buffy said, for what must have been the tenth time. "You should have let me go back to get her." She would already have known what to expect, would have been prepared for the Bringers and the First.

Giles sighed. "Buffy, dear, you know why we couldn't risk that. Besides the fact that the physical stress of the time jump could have been detrimental in your current state," he cleared his throat with a pointed glance at her stomach, "you seeing your past self and worse, your past self seeing you…well, it could have severely disrupted time itself. Trust in Asher, Buffy. He won't let us down."

Just then, the air seemed to shimmer in front of them. Spike's arms tightened around Buffy as slowly, something began to take shape. They held their breaths, silent, as what started as little more than an illusion solidified, took form, and suddenly there was Asher, sitting on the leather sofa with little Eden in his arms. Spike and Buffy watched, transfixed, as their daughter rubbed her eyes in confusion.

Buffy opened her mouth to speak but the only thing that came out was a relieved sob. She and Spike rushed forward to gather the child into their arms. "Oh my god, you're here, you're safe," she murmured into Eden's hair.

And as Buffy clutched her little girl and Spike's arms encircled them both, his silent tears spilling onto Buffy's shoulder, she started to remember things…new things, things she knew had never happened, but that felt real, in her mind.

"It's changing," she whispered, and she didn't have to look at Spike to know that he felt it too.

"Bloody hell," he said, as his memories grew…shifted…changed.