Chapter 8
 
Spike was still reeling from the news that he was the father of the slayer’s child. He didn’t know how it could be possible, but the slate blue eyes, the tumbling honey-blonde curls and the cheekbones, still partly obscured by baby fat, were compelling evidence that it was true.
 
As they approached the room which Buffy shared with her daughter, he was so entranced by the impish eyes peeking at him over Buffy’s shoulder that he didn’t notice the person on the landing until she spoke.
 
“I’m sorry, Buffy. She must have snuck past me. Again.”
 
As she led Spike into her room, Buffy grinned back. “Not your fault, Dawnie. She seems to have inherited my slayer stealth.”
 
Dawn looked Spike up and down with open appreciation. “So this is William. Mom said he was a hottie.” A crease furrowed her brow as she asked, “Why does he look familiar?”
 
Spike smirked and cocked his head to one side as he frankly considered the teenager in return. “So this is little sis. All grown up since she peeked at us from the top of the stairs that time.”
 
Heralded by a cloud of jasmine-scented steam, Joyce came up behind Dawn, who hovered in Buffy’s bedroom doorway, mouth hanging open in surprise. “Buffy? What is William doing up…? Oh! You’re that vampire! The one that helped Buffy that terrible night.”
 
Buffy dampened a tissue to wipe the dab of blood from Annie’s forehead, then paused in confusion when she noticed that it had totally vanished. “Uh, yes. William is Spike, and Spike is that vampire. It’s a long story. I’ll explain if you could just wait outside…” She indicated Annie who, despite drooping eyelids, was eagerly taking in everything that was going on around her. “Little pitchers…”
 
However, as Joyce pulled the bedroom door to, the most critical piece of news was divulged when Annie raised her arms and said, “Nigh’-nigh’ Daddy! Kiss!”
 
Amused by the whispered speculations taking place on the landing, Spike knelt beside the bed to accept a hug and bestow a kiss upon Annie’s chubby, sweet-smelling cheek. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the day was becoming more and more surreal.
 
He’d fought the compulsion to stay away from Sunnydale so that he could seek out the slayer, his mortal enemy, and somehow force her to remove the spell he thought she’d cursed him with, and then finally kill her. And now, just two days later, here he was. In love with the slayer who had presented him with a ready-made family. Having a family was a possibility he’d discounted since the night he’d been turned.
 
He stood by the door and watched Buffy get her daughter—no, their daughter—snuggled warmly under the covers with Mister Tigger tucked in by her side, and a hot fury began to boil in his chest.
 
Willow, in her arrogant, unthinking attempt to help Buffy, had robbed him of something irreplaceable. He should have been there to support Buffy through her pregnancy and protect her while she was vulnerable. He should have been there to share the pain and joy when Annie was born. He should have been able to witness the first time she’d crawled; her first tooth; her first word; her first steps. He should have been there every bedtime to kiss his daughter goodnight.
 
He admired the way that Buffy’s soft words and gentle hands were lulling the tired child to sleep and realised that Willow had also deliberately left Buffy to struggle as a single parent in ignorance of how she had got into that situation.
 
His jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists and he seriously regretted giving his word to Buffy not to hurt any of her friends. That young witch needed to be taken to task for her high-handed use of magic, and he was just the vamp to do it. He sucked his teeth thoughtfully. Since his promise meant that he was unable to do her bodily harm, he’d just have to be a little more creative than usual in his methods.
 
~*~*~*~
 
“So the new boyfriend you started telling me about when you came back from Los Angeles. The one who helped you get over sending that Angel to hell and encouraged you to come home again; that was William, uh, Spike, and Spike is Annie’s father?” Joyce said in bemusement.
 
“That’s right Mom.”
 
“But after you and that Angel… When you finally explained about him, I thought you told me that vampires couldn’t father children?” Joyce looked accusingly at Spike, as though he had somehow betrayed her.
 
“That’s what the lore says Joyce,” Spike said, shuffling his feet nervously. He had a flashback to Joyce standing over him like an avenging angel with an axe, demanding that he should stay away from her daughter, and rubbed the back of his head at the memory of the painful goose-egg she had left him with. “This human body is dead. It’s only the vampire demon keeping me going. Looks like there’s something else for the watcher to look up in all those musty old books of his.”
 
Joyce looked earnestly between Buffy and Spike. “And what do you both intend to do now? Are you a couple again? Are you going to be staying with Buffy to help raise Annie, William? If so, how do you intend to support them?”
 
“Mo-om,” Buffy whined. “We’ve only just found out! We haven’t talked about any of that stuff yet!”
 
“I’m gonna stay,” Spike insisted. “Whether Buffy wants us to get back together or not, and whether or not she wants me to be a part of Annie’s life, I’m here for the long haul. I’m a vampire, Joyce, and my demon is possessive. Annie’s mine and I’ve sworn to protect her with my life. If I have to do that from the outside, then that’s what I’ll do, and I already have a plan to get the funds to support them, if Buffy’ll let me…”
 
“Legally, I hope?” Joyce interjected.
 
“Yeah, don’t worry, Joyce. It’s all above board.” He gestured towards Buffy. “As to the rest of it, that’s up to the slayer.”
 
“I’m very glad to hear it.” Joyce smiled and patted him on the arm. “I’m just so relieved that if Buffy does choose to be with a vampire, it’ll be you rather than that Angel.”
 
When Joyce had retreated to her room, reassured by the promise of the full story later, Buffy looked up at Spike with a resigned shrug and gestured to the stairs, up which the sounds of an animated discussion were floating at an increasing volume. “Ready to face the music?”
 
Spike dropped a quick kiss on her pouty lips and turned to lead the way down the stairs, pulling up short when he heard Buffy giggle. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Dawn poking her head out of her bedroom door, grinning like a loon and giving her sister the ‘thumbs up’ sign with both hands.
 
Still smiling, Buffy took his hand, and together they made their way back to the living room.
 
“There now!” Willow exclaimed smugly, pointing to Spike. “We don’t need Anya to explain anything. Spike himself can tell us all about this blood oath thingy.”
 
Spike glanced at Anya. She was scowling angrily and clearly trying to say something. “Think I’d rather hear it from Anya. Don’t know so much about it myself,” he drawled, looking pointedly at Willow.
 
Willow pouted. “But…”
 
“Anya has been trying to tell us something, but she appears to be suffering from some kind of speech impediment,” Giles explained in exasperation.
 
Rolling his eyes, Spike pointed out what, to him, was obvious. “Girl’s clearly under a muting spell.” He glared at Willow. “Want to tell us what you’ve done to her?”
 
Willow opened her eyes impossibly wide and pointed to her own chest in an exaggerated expression of injured innocence. “Me? I haven’t done…”
 
Spike strode across the room, gripped her by the shoulders, lifted her out of her seat and pushed his face into hers. “Shouldn’t try lying with a vampire in the room, little girly. Your body’ll give you away every time.” He roughly spun her to face Anya and said grimly, “I think you’d better undo it now, don’t you?”
 
The shoulders under his hands slumped and Willow sighed. “Do I have’ta? It’s been so peaceful without her constant stream of inappropriate comments in Scooby meetings.”
 
“Willow…” Giles said in an admonitory tone.
 
“Oh… phooey.” Willow raised her right hand and casually gestured at Anya, who was glowering at her in fury. “Free speech,” she said then wrested herself out of Spike’s grasp and plopped back down on the couch muttering sulkily, “Don’t blame me if you come to regret it…”
 
As if propelled by Willow’s arrival next to her, Tara leapt up from the couch and retreated to the other side of the room.
 
“Tara, sweetie…” Willow began, raising a hand in a pleading gesture, but she was cut off when Anya leant down and dealt a hard slap to her cheek.
 
“You should think yourself lucky I’ve lost my powers,” Anya hissed. “I wouldn’t have been able to exact vengeance on you for myself, but I would only have had to petition D’Hoffryn and he’d happily have sent one of my friends to punish you on my behalf.”
 
A moment later, Anya startled Spike into immobility by flinging her arms around him in a tight hug and crying, “Thank you! Thank you so much!” Then she flounced back to Xander’s side and poked him in the chest, saying, “I told you she’d done something to me, but did you believe me? No of course you didn’t. In your eyes, your precious Willow could do no wrong. Well, I hope your eyes have been opened now!”
 
She turned to Giles and quickly said, “A blood oath is a ritual by which a vampire swears to protect a member of his or her bloodline with their life. It’s an oath that includes any individuals closely connected to the protected individual by blood. In this instance, I imagine that would mean Buffy, Dawn and Joyce, and very probably Annie’s children and grandchildren, if she should go on to have any. Oh, and what’s more, it’s an unbreakable oath. Spike can’t ignore it, even if he tries. That’s why it’s so rare. It’s a massive commitment.” She gave a self-satisfied little nod.
 
“Thank you Anya,” Giles said. He glanced briefly at Spike who gave him a confirming nod. “That was a very clear and succinct explanation.”
 
He removed his glasses, produced a large white handkerchief from his pocket and began his customary ritual of polishing the spotless lenses. He frowned down at Willow, who was continuing to try to attract a tearful Tara back to her side.
 
“Willow, I’m very disappointed in you. It would appear that you have been continually putting spells on us all to adjust our memories and behaviour to suit your own ends. This is utterly unacceptable and simply has to stop.” He replaced his glasses on his nose and pursed his lips in disapproval. “Please tell me that all of these spells have now been cancelled.”
 
With an anxious glance at Spike, Willow nodded quickly. “Yep, all gone.” She rushed on to say, “But I honestly never did anything except try to help everyone…”
 
Spike growled in irritation and reached down, snagged the silver chain at her neck and easily snapped it. “Told you once, witch. You can’t carry off a lie with a vampire in the room. Your breathing changes, your heartbeat speeds up, and your skin flushes and you begin to sweat. I can literally smell it when you lie!”
 
He raised the broken chain in front of him, displaying to the other occupants of the room the small back crystal dangling from it. “Anyone else dying to know who else has had their mind raped by this arrogant little chit?”