Everyone in the room froze, shocked.
 
“But vampire sperm is dead,” Anya said, finally. “They can’t father children. That and the rapid refractory period are what make them such good orgas—”
 
“Enough, Ahn, with the vampire sex talk!” Xander said.
 
Buffy looked over at Spike. For once, she had absolutely no idea what he was thinking or feeling. His normally expressive face had shut down completely and he was statue-still.
 
“This has to be a joke, right?” Xander continued, looking around the room for agreement. “I mean … mommy Buffy? With daddy Spike?” He laughed, slightly forced and high-pitched.
 
“I don’t see the humour,” Anya grumbled.
 
“C’mon, man,” Xander said to Bohdan, a smile firmly fixed on his face. “Spill. What’s the real story here?”
 
“I really am a former Knight of Byzantium,” Bohdan said slowly. “And the K- Dawn really was created magically from the essences of the Slayer and the Slayer of Slayers.”
 
“Nuh-uh,” Xander said, letting out a slightly hysterical giggle. “No way. Did Spike put you up to this? Are you a poker buddy or something?”
 
“It’s no joke,” Bohdan said. “Look at her. Can you not see them both in her face? The way she moves?”
 
They all looked. Seeing Buffy in Dawn’s features and mannerisms was familiar – normal. But Spike?
 
“Her eyes,” Giles breathed.
 
Once they started looking, even Xander couldn’t un-see it. His smile froze into a grimace.
 
Dawn’s emotions were at war. The idea of Spike being her father was … so weird, but somehow almost comforting. It finally made sense of how safe she’d always felt with him, even when he was still actively trying to kill her sist—
 
Her brain shuddered to a halt.
 
The idea of Buffy as her mother was just gross. They were only five years apart! And it felt like a betrayal of her real mother. She wasn’t Buffy’s little pumpkin belly. Buffy had never made her hot chocolate when she was upset.
 
Well, she tried that one time … but she just destroyed the pot.
 
Dawn felt like she was losing Joyce all over again. The beginning of tears began to prick at her eyes.
 
“What, precisely, does ‘essence’ mean in this context?” Giles asked, valiantly hoping that some practical information might make everything less … disturbing. “And why two? We understood Dawn had been, er, made from Buffy alone.”
 
“‘Essence’ because there was no physical joining,” Bohdan said. “Not even in a test tube.” He looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know the mechanics beyond that.”
 
There was an audible sigh of relief from Xander and Willow at the confirmed lack of sex and vampy fluids. The idea of Buffy and Spike together was just … beyond eww.
 
“And if Buffy’s essence had been the only source, Dawn would have been identical – a twin,” Bohdan continued. “A second was required for a new and separate person.”
 
“So … no one’s actually biologically related?” Willow said, slowly. “It’s just some wacky mystical connection?”
 
“I don’t think the correct terms exist,” Bohdan said, shrugging. “Dawn was never an embryo. She has no biological relations. She was created, fully formed, at the age of fourteen.”
 
The knot that had formed in Xander’s chest started to unravel. Spike and Dawn had a connection. He’d finally come to accept that in the past few days. So long as he knew that the whole “parent” thing was just magical jiggery-pokery—
 
And oh! There’s that mental image I was trying to avoid. Dammit!
 
As long as there had never been anything going on between Spike and Buffy … it almost made a weird sort of Hellmouth-y sense. They had always had that protect-Dawn-at-all-costs thing going on. Yeah. Freaksome as it is, if I don’t think too hard about how, it kinda feels right.
 
Giles frowned. “If Dawn was made from a combination of Spike and Buffy, how was Buffy able to close Glory’s portal? We understood it to have worked only because she and Dawn had the same blood.”
 
Bohdan shrugged. “Vampires stop carrying their own blood when they’re turned. Perhaps there is something in that?”
 
“And DNA?” Giles asked, pulling his notebook out and beginning to write. “Clearly, Dawn is not Buffy’s identical twin…. But if their blood is identical….”
 
Bohdan shrugged helplessly. “I had hoped you might be able to answer these questions, Watcher. I’m only a soldier.”
 
Giles sighed. Back to the UK it is then. There’s no avoiding it now.
 
“There are home testing kits,” Willow said. “We could get one....” she trailed off as she registered identical death-glares from Buffy and Dawn. “Or, you know, not.”
 
“Does she have a belly button?” Anya asked. “Because if she never had an umbilical cord, she really shouldn’t.”
 
“Why, yes, Anya, I do have a belly button, thanks for asking,” Dawn said. “And I’m still in the room!”
 
And there goes that muscle jumping along her jaw. Xander winced. Dawnie really is part Spike.
 
“Does any of that truly matter?” Bohdan asked. He turned to Dawn. “You were created by magic, not science. Your appearance, your personality – everything that makes you who you are – it was all built from components of these two.” He gestured to Spike and Buffy. “You are theirs, as any child belongs to its parents.”
 
Willow shuddered. She just couldn’t wrap her brain around Buffy as Dawn’s mother. It came with images of five-year-old Buffy giving birth and whole worlds of yuck! It wasn’t much better thinking of daddy-Spike. Even if it did sort of explain the totally wig-worthy way Joyce and Buffy and Dawn always seemed to keep accepting him…. The whole situation was just wrong, wrong, wrong! Dawn and Buffy were sisters. And Spike was not part of their family!
 
“Buffy is not my mother,” Dawn said firmly. “She’s my sister!”
 
She’s my mother! Slap! She’s my sister! Slap! She’s my mother AND my sister! Xander couldn’t help paraphrasing in his head. At least there’s no incest-y badness here. Small mercies. Gotta love ‘em.
 
“Those memories were … kinder,” Bohdan said gently.
 
Spike snorted.
 
Buffy suddenly realised that he was angry, and only barely containing it.
 
Spike hated being manipulated. And this was manipulation on an epic scale.
 
He had given up his old, human, desire for children – for family – so many years ago he could barely even remember it anymore. As Anya said, vampires couldn’t have children. As far as he was concerned, they shouldn’t, either: the notion of Darla or Dru being a mother made him physically sick. But now, to find that he had a daughter – truly his, no matter how she came into existence – and everyone’s memories had been fixed to ensure she had no connection to him at all.
 
It was typical of the unending game of kick-the-Spike the world had been playing on him since the day he’d first set foot in Sunnyhell.
 
“Oh yeah, much kinder keepin’ me well out of everyone’s mem’ries,” he said bitterly. “Good enough to donate my ‘essence’, but only so long as no one ever knows about it.”
 
Bohdan turned to him. “I truly do not believe Michal intended it to remain a secret forever, and I understand this is not easy for you to hear. But it was necessary for Dawn to appear at the time she did. It was also necessary for her to be the age she was – young enough to be cared for, but old enough to understand what was happening.”
 
“What the fuck does that have to do with anythin’?” Spike growled, his eyes starting to flicker between blue and gold.
 
“Michal doubted a teenaged daughter would be readily accepted by a teenaged Slayer. Add a connection to you? With your … complex … relationship? The Beast was so close, the Slayer had to be immediately willing to do anything to protect the Key. A sister was the safest way.”
 
“Bollocks!” Spike spat. “The amount of mucking about he did with all our heads? He could’ve changed anythin’.”
 
“What sort of childhood memories do you think she could have had with you as her acknowledged father?”
 
“Drusilla,” Giles said softly, “instead of Joyce.”
 
Spike flinched.
 
“Or would you take away her childhood entirely? Have had her begin her life at fourteen. For what? To save your pride?” Bohdan asked.
 
“He could’ve come up with somethin’,” Spike said in a more subdued tone. ‘S not jus’ pride. “Wasn’ right, keepin’ me out of it.”
 
“You think someone actively chose your memories?” Bohdan laughed. “Wrote out fourteen years of Dawn’s life and then implanted them all in one piece? It’s ridiculous to suppose such a thing could even be possible.”
 
“How then?” Willow asked, leaning forward, fascinated. Tara looked at her sharply.
 
“The Order of Dagon worked a memory spell.” Bohdan paused; he seemed to be searching for words. “A little like a time machine? The spellcaster drops something into the past, and then everyone and everything in that time and place adjusts around it, filling in the detail themselves. The spell is a sort of matrix, connecting Dawn with the world, ensuring that as long as she lives, all of the memories remain consistent with one other. It becomes as if Dawn really was born in 1986, and all of you simply reacted to her presence.”
 
Willow was entranced by the idea of such a powerful spell, but only Tara caught the calculating look that flashed across her face.
 
Buffy felt unable to begin to even process the idea of Dawn as her daughter. She was still trying to get her head around dying for her and then nearly killing her.
 
She remembered being angry with Dawn about … about everything. Being jealous and resentful of the easy, loving relationship she’d had with their mother, while Buffy only ever seemed to fight with her.
 
No, not our mother. Dawn’s grandmother.
 
Buffy stared down at Dawn. She tried desperately to remember what it had felt like, loving so much that you could die for someone. Die happy and at peace. She knew she had felt that once, but she couldn’t reconnect to it. Her memory had a hole where soul-deep love had once been.
 
Spike felt his entire universe shifting beneath him. He didn’t trust magic. Never had. He had changed so much since Buffy had come into his life, and he’d always believed it had been on his terms – his choice. But if he’d effectively been under a spell since 1986 for fuck’s sake?
 
That dream – the one that had forced him to finally face his feelings for her – that was after Dawn’s arrival. Was it even his dream? Could the monks have dropped that into his memories too?
 
He’d fought loving Buffy. Fuck! He’d fought it with everything he had. Was any of it real? Had he been fighting against a spell? Was everything just so the monks could make sure he’d protect their precious Key?
 
All the times he’d risked his life for Dawn, it had been for someone else. First to keep Dru. Then for Buffy, because it would have destroyed her to lose …
 
Our daughter.
 
The words felt like a brand on his brain – painful and permanent.
 
He had reached a sort of peace the last few months, putting Dawn first. Forcing himself to get out of bed – to feed – for her, when all he’d wanted to do was die. He’d started thinking of himself as a parent, and it felt so right. He’d finally stopped denying and fighting against his feelings. Was it all completely meaningless?
 
If he hadn’t truly chosen to follow his heart all those years, putting love first, he couldn’t be sure who he was anymore.
 
“Are all my sisterly feelings fake, then?” Buffy asked. “Mom thought Dawn was her daughter, so the spell made me all consistent?”
 
Every word made Dawn flinch like she’d been hit.
 
“No spell can force you to feel things against your nature, against your will,” Bohdan said.
 
Spike’s head snapped up. Still my choice. Still me. He met Buffy’s wide, startled eyes. Love’s bitch, for better or worse.
 
There was something in his expression that struck Buffy as familiar. And then she remembered.
 
That’s what it looks like! That’s how you look when you’d die for someone.
 
I used to look like that. Full of love. Just like that.
 
Buffy’s gaze flickered down to Dawn, huddled in the chair. Spike’s eyes followed hers. He looks at both of us like that. She reached out tentatively and brushed her fingers over Dawn’s shoulder. Dawn seemed to relax a little.
 
Willow was frowning. “But there are lots of spells that change emotions.”
 
“Only temporarily,” Anya said, witheringly. What kind of a witch is she? So ignorant! “You wouldn’t believe how many times I was called in because a love spell finally wore off.” She leaned forward to look past Xander to Willow. “Then again, maybe you would.”
 
“Ahn!” Xander said sharply.
 
“What?” Anya whined, pouting slightly. “Willow’s hardly innocent when it comes to playing with people’s emotions.”
 
“At least I never played with people’s entrails!” Willow snapped back.
 
“Let’s not have a repeat of the troll incident, hmm?” Giles said, feeling the beginning of a headache. “I don’t think Buffy can afford to replace any more furniture.”
 
“Troll incident?” Bohdan asked weakly.
 
“You don’t want to know,” Dawn said. “Trust me.”
 
Anya leaned back into the sofa, fully prepared to spend the rest of the evening sulking. It could not have been a more disappointing end to her day.
 
“Why’d they pick Spike, anyway?” Willow asked. “I mean, first of all, vampire and vampire slayer? That’s taking the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing a little too far if you ask me. Plus … if you’ve gotta pick a vampire, isn’t Angel, like, obvious-guy? He’s all about helping the helpless. He has a soul. He actually dated Buffy….”
 
Giles shuddered at the thought. Much as it pained him to admit to appreciating anything about Spike, he hated Angel so much more.
 
“Michal never spoke about that,” Bohdan said. “But I would think choosing a vampire is obvious. Mostly human appearance, strength to match a Slayer’s, and they are impervious to the Beast’s magic.”
 
“And it means good and evil are equally represented in the vessel,” Anya said thoughtfully. “So they don’t get knocked out of balance.”
 
“Why would that be important?” Giles asked.
 
Anya shrugged. “Hoffy always told us not to upset the balance when we were doing anything major. I assume he had a good reason.”
 
“But why Spike?” Willow asked.
 
“Michal told me that if the Slayer fell, he was the next most powerful force for good.”
 
Spike burst out laughing, just as Willow very nearly jumped out of her seat to shout, “But he’s evil!”
 
Spike’s laughter, predictably, quickly turned to violent coughing. Dawn, rolling her eyes, got up to help him keep from doubling over and re-injuring himself.
 
Bohdan sighed. “It wasn’t a joke.”
 
By the time Spike managed to get his coughing under control, he was in agony. Dawn pushed her shoulder under his armpit and put her arm around his waist to take some of his weight, while he pressed his head against the wall and closed his eyes in an effort to stop the spinning.
 
“But … evil!” Willow repeated, more confused than angry now.
 
“I’m not sure I would describe Spike as evil, Willow,” Giles said slowly. “Not now.”
 
“I mean sure, he patrols. But only so he can keep killing things!” Willow continued, almost to herself.
 
“Moving in to look after Dawn isn’t exactly textbook evil,” Tara said gently.
 
“Angel never even patrolled,” Dawn said. “Just appeared, wrinkled his forehead, and left again.”
 
“Don’ make me laugh again, Bit,” Spike groaned.
 
“Personally, I would not risk having the demon who raised Acathla anywhere near a portal to hell dimensions,” Bohdan said. “As it is, this,” Bohdan pointed towards Spike with his chin, “was the vampire standing with the Slayer against the Beast at the time. The other was … out of the picture.”
 
“Angel leaves,” Buffy said quietly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
 
Spike slowly raised his head and opened his eyes, searching until his gaze locked with Buffy’s. Dawn felt a shiver run through him. He thought he saw something….
 
“Spike stays,” she continued.
 
There was a long, awkward silence in the room, as Buffy and Spike seemed to be carrying on a silent conversation. Finally, she tilted her head to one side and raised her chin.
 
It was not clear to those watching whether it was a challenge or an invitation.
 
“I don’t know what this is,” Buffy said finally, “but if you don’t mind staying….”
 
Dawn’s eyes lit up. “Does this mean you’re coming home?” she asked Spike.
 
“Yeah,” he said softly, finally breaking eye contact with Buffy to look down at Dawn. “Looks like.”
 
Tara found herself meeting Giles’ eyes. They shared a moment of guilty relief. Trusting Spike, while clearly not an ideal option, just kept being the easiest one.
 
“Wait, what?” Xander said, looking around. “I feel like I missed something.”
 
Anya sighed dreamily. “Buffy and Spike were fighting and now they’re not. It’s all very romantic.”
 
“Riiiiight,” Xander said slowly. He waited for a few seconds. “Can we eat now?”