Ticking Over

After yet another mind-numbing day at work, Buffy returned home and quietly shrugged off her coat. Walking into the bedroom to search for Spike, she found him listening to some kind of pop-rock on the stereo while he lay atop the bed, fully clothed, eyes closed and hands clasped behind his head. She smiled and went to lay next to him, resting her head on his chest. Automatically he put his arm around her.

"How's th' day job?" he asked, still with his eyes closed.

"Meh. Same old same old. You?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Still nothin'."

Knowing how much his job hunt was getting him down Buffy immediately changed the subject. "What's this song?"

"Relax, by Frankie goes to Hollywood."

Her face scrunched up a little. "Are they new?"

"Old," he replied, laughing. "Probably around the time you were popping out yer mum."

"Eww, gross, Spike!"

"Sorry," he said, halfheartedly, before finally sitting up and looking at his girl.

"Glad to be home?"

"Oh yes," she said, with much enthusiasm, before taking off her shoes and beginning to remove her clothes. "Now, can we get to the part where you distract me from the fact that I ever left?"

That earned her a smirk. "Sure baby."

Distraction complete, Buffy and Spike lay side by side again; their rapid heartbeats in sync.

"Married life is good," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed, then told her, "We need a new bed."

"Huh?" she asked, glancing over at him.

"This bed. One more good pound in it and it'll break."

"Oh," she pouted, "What's that, the third one?"

"Second at this place. Only three if you count the one at Rupes."

Buffy's pout turned into a frown. "We still haven't paid him for that, have we?"

"Nah. Don't think he's holding his breath, luv."

"Still. Doesn't seem right. Not when he's taking care of Dawn for nothing."

Running a hand through his hair Spike grumbled, "That's all well and good, but where we gonna get the cash?"

Buffy sighed. Suddenly they were back at the job conversation again. "Maybe I could put my name forward for another promotion. They won't like that I've an official warning hanging over me, and they still haven't forgotten about the time I got you to work there, but I think I could talk them round."

Spike shook his head, "You already work late most nights, luv. It's not fair on you."

"I know, but if it's what we need to do."

"What we need to do is find someone who'll give a fully grown adult with no experience or qualifications a break. Or, well, no qualifications that I can tell them about."

"You can't change the date on your degree?"

"Didn' take the certificate with me when I went off on a round the world bloodbath tour, did I? An' I think moving it forward by over a century would be a bit much anyway."

"Right. Sorry, not helping."

"Hey, no," he reached out to her, "You help. It's jus'… Well, I'm fuckin' useless, aren't I?"

She reached for him too; looked in his eyes, and shook her head saying, "Not useless. Not useless at all! Spike, I love you. You're so much to me."

"Yeah, but I'm making your life hard, though. Having to support me. I know you hate your job. No point trying t' deny it."

She'd been denying it for weeks, but knew there wasn't any point anymore, so she kissed him instead. "I'd work twenty four hours a day, six days a week as long as I got to be with you the other one."

"I know, luv. But it's not the way it should be."

What could she say to that? They'd both be happier if he found work. Would find the bills easier to manage. Would be able to replace the mirror Dawn smashed, and put a deposit on another new bed.

"I know," she agreed in a gentle almost-whisper, finally, before saying again, "I love you."

He kissed her softly, and stroked her cheek. "Don't take on more hours. Not yet. Give me a couple more weeks, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay. We'll figure something out."

"Always do," he affirmed, "Sooner or later." Then he began to muse, "Maybe… maybe I'm looking in the wrong place."

Buffy tilted her head in question, "Meaning?"

"Meaning, maybe there'd be more opportunities elsewhere? Weren't we considerin' moving back to the states? All this job huntin' could be a big waste a' time if we're not gonna be here in a few months."

She considered that. It wasn't something she'd really thought about since they first discussed it. "I still haven't spoken to Dawn about that. But I will. She's coming over later, by the way…" – briefly Buffy glanced at the clock – "Uh, in about twenty minutes, actually."

"And, if she intends to go back?"

"Then I think I want us to, too. Is that… would you be okay?"

"Buffy, luv, ain't that what I just been tellin' you? Not exactly one to agree just for the hell of it."

"No, you're not," she allowed, then shrugged, "Guess it's a good thing we never unpacked properly."

"Always look on the bright side."

"Think that's the least enthusiastic I have ever heard that sentence spoken," she chuckled, and he lightened up slightly.

"Right, okay. Wanna have some fun later?"

That earned him another quizzical look, so he explained, "Not that. I mean, yeah, we'll do that again, but Slaying. You up for it?"

"Totally!" she said, suddenly beaming at him, "Been way too long since I beat something up. You have the best ideas."

With a smirk he said, "That's my girl."

To be continued...