The night air was cool when you and Scarlet stepped up onto the porch, bags of groceries dangling from your hands. Scarlet skipped ahead, her little shoes tapping against the wood as she clutched her new coloring book like it was treasure. She pushed the door open, calling out before you could even set the bags down.

“Spike! Look what I got!”

Sure enough, the vampire was already inside, lounging far too comfortably on Buffy’s couch with the TV glowing faintly in the background. A cigarette dangled unlit from his lips—habit more than need, since Buffy had already threatened to set him on fire if he smoked inside again. His eyes flicked up at the sound of Scarlet’s voice, and the grin that spread across his face was something softer than he usually let anyone see.

“Well now, look who’s back. Little Bit Two, bring it here, then—lemme see what you’ve got.” He leaned forward, patting his knee as Scarlet ran over and plopped the coloring book into his waiting hands. He exaggerated his voice like he was inspecting something priceless. “Ohhh, would you look at that. That’s proper art, that is. Gonna make ol’ Michelangelo jealous, you will.”

Scarlet giggled, climbing up onto the couch beside him without hesitation.

You lingered in the doorway a moment, watching them, that strange comfort tugging at your chest. It still surprised you sometimes—the way Spike was with your daughter. Protective, patient, almost gentle. A side of him most people would laugh at if you told them.

“Didn’t realize babysitting was included in the whole vampire package,” you teased, stepping further into the room as you set the bags down on the counter.

Spike smirked, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to Scarlet. “What can I say, love? Kid’s got taste. Knows quality company when she sees it.”

Scarlet leaned against his arm, humming happily as he flipped through her book. The sight made something ache inside you, equal parts warmth and fear—you weren’t sure if it was because he was winning over your daughter so effortlessly, or because of how much you didn’t hate the idea.

Spike tapped the coloring book with mock seriousness. “Tell you what, pet. You pick out the best page in here, and I’ll make sure it’s the one gets pride of place on the fridge. Right next to the Slayer’s shopping list.”

Scarlet gasped like he’d offered her the moon and wriggled off the couch to find her crayons. She darted past you toward the kitchen, humming under her breath.

The house went quiet for a beat, leaving just you and Spike. You crossed your arms and gave him a look. “You know, you’re setting a dangerous precedent here. She’s gonna start thinking you’re her favorite person in the world.”

His smirk softened into something smaller, more real. “Not the worst thing, is it? She deserves to have someone who thinks the sun rises and sets on her.” His gaze held yours, steady and unguarded in a way that always left you off-balance. “And between you and me—she’s not half wrong.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck. There were a dozen things you could say—warnings, jokes, something to keep the distance that still felt necessary—but Scarlet’s delighted chatter drifted back in as she spread her crayons out on the kitchen floor.

Spike leaned back on the couch, watching you watch her. His voice dropped low, meant just for you. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. Not with the Bit. Not with Scarlet. You’ve got me.”

For a second, your chest tightened at the weight of it—because he wasn’t joking. He wasn’t teasing. He meant it.

Scarlet poked her head around the corner, holding up a pink crayon like it was Excalibur. “Spike! You have to help me color the flowers!”

He was on his feet instantly, that grin flashing again as he moved toward her. “Right then. Let’s show those flowers who’s boss.”

And just like that, the heavy moment dissolved into laughter and crayons scattered across the floor—but his words still lingered, warm and dangerous, in the back of your mind.