Chapter 11

Buffy's belly grew round and taut in the next five months. Dawn couldn't wait to officially have a niece or nephew. But Spike was even more excited. He'd lay his head on Buffy's tummy, rubbing it. The joy of feeling a kick was overwhelming. He would talk to the baby, which made Buffy giggle.

He was becoming impatient. He wanted to be a father now, teach it things, hold it. He never thought it would be possible, him giving life.

As Spike stood on the porch, smoking, dawning came over him. He eyed the cigarette intently, then stomped it out. He needed to change, be a good example. No more Marlboros, not so much alcohol.

That wasn't all. There was a long list of what he had to do. But, he knew where to start.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spike went to the library. He filled out a form to obtain a card. A smile came to his face, remembering a time when he'd broken in to steal a book after closing.

He scanned the help-section in the newspaper. He sighed. What could a post-vampire do?

After copying down the possibilities, he went off to apply.

After going to a few places he was getting frustrated. None of these jobs seemed good enough. He wanted his family to live comfortably.

A smile grew on his lips. His family. He was going to have Buffy, Dawn, and a son or daughter.

He glanced out the window. A building came into view, and he slowed the DeSoto, which he had finally retrieved from the cemetery. The Sunnydale Museum. Maybe he could spare a few minutes browsing through some artifacts.

Spike parked the car, and then headed inside. As he walked around, memories passed through his brain. And many of them actually caused him to feel regret. But that's over, he reminded himself. No need to brood over the past like his grand-sire.

He stopped at the weapon exhibit. He began to examine the ancient martial art fight arms.

"You like Pakua?"

Spike spun around to see a middle-aged man. He had a nametag that said 'Bill' on.

"Uh, I never really practiced it," Spike replied.

The man smiled. "Me either."

"I was more into axes and swords." Spike pointed to the display case. "That shinai is pretty neat, though. Is it made of bamboo?"

Bill seemed surprised. "Why yes, actually it is."

Spike nodded.

"Hey, we just got some Celtic stuff in. Maybe that's more your style." Bill led Spike over to some metal weapons.

"Oh, a basket hilted broadsword!"

Bill studied Spike. "So what brought you here?"

Spike shrugged. "Was out looking for a job and ended up here. Thought I could use a break."

A friendly chuckle came from Bill. "We are in need of a guide. Want it?"

Spike's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah. You can start Monday if that's okay with you."

"That's great, yeh." Spike couldn't believe his luck. This was fabulous.

The man extended his arm. "Bill Gordon."

Spike grasped his hand and shook. "William Collins."

Spike left in good spirits. He had one more stop to make before going home to Buffy.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Buffy was sitting on the couch, watching a talk-show. It was ridiculous, something about a girl who had four possible fathers. She wasn't really paying close attention. Her mind kept going back to Spike, wondering where he was. He hadn't been there when she woke up, and she hadn't found a note.

It's all right, he just went out for awhile, he'll be back soon, she told herself. Her worry still wouldn't go away.

Buffy got up and went into the kitchen. She rummaged in the freezer for the rocky-road carton. Then she scooped two heaps into a bowl.

Plopping back down on the sofa, she began to eat. She grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. Her finger halted as Passions filled the screen. Spike never missed his soap opera.

Buffy watched the show intently. It had sort of grown on her.

The hour went by, and when credits rolled, Spike still hadn't appeared.

She curled herself under a white afghan and fell asleep.

Spike came back, finding her that way. He knelt next to her, staring down at her face. He brushed some hair back, and kissed her forehead.

Buffy stirred. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled in relief to see him there. "You missed Passions."

"Oh, I did, didn't I?" He stroked her cheek.

She nodded. "Uh huh. Tabatha and Timmy finally got out of the cave. Theresa's back to life, and the zombie woman was Julian and whole time."

He grinned. "Had more important things to do."

"What could be more important than Passions?" she teased.

He became serious. "You."

Buffy sat up. "I know that," she said.

"I got a job," Spike told her.

"Is that where you went?" she asked.

"I was out searching, and ended up at the museum. I met this guy there. Guess he liked me cuz he gave me a job."

"That's great."

Spike shifted, uncomfortable. "Buffy. . ."

Confused, she asked, "Spike, is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, it's just. . ."

She searched his eyes.

He fished into the pocket of his duster. When his hand emerged, it was clutching a black velvet box. Fumbling, he lifted the lid.

A gasp escaped Buffy. She gaped at the sparkling diamond ring.

Spike took in a deep breath. "Buffy, will you marry me?"

Unshed tears misted her eyes. She threw her arms around him. "Yes!"

They both kissed. Then Spike slipped the golden band on her finger. He beamed at her.

"I'll be all that you want," he said.

Buffy cupped his face. "Then only be you," she muttered.

He closed his eyes. Everything was perfect.

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