A/N: Thanks so much to Geliot99 for insisting on several key points in this chapter that really helped set the tone for the rest of the story.

Chapter 6

Buffy sat at the dining room table filling out applications.

She had gone over to Spike's to pick up the applications and found them in a large document envelope with her name on it. Spike was nowhere to be found. She had just assumed he was in bed but when she went downstairs he wasn't there and his bed was made. It was strange to think of him making his bed…

She sighed as she looked over the first application. Spike had managed to dig up two jobs her high school diploma qualified her for and it didn't really surprise her that they both had to do with the town's death industry. The first one was as a sales rep for one of the cemeteries, selling plots, markers, urns and such.

Humm… let's put that one on the 'I'll fill out the application but I hope something better comes along' pile… selling stuff to grieving families? Eek, but the pay is good… but eek…

The second application was for a secretary job at one of the local funeral homes. The job description didn't sound terrible and the benefits were practically gold, especially compared to the other jobs she had found.

At least this place offers maternity leave… since I'll be needing that…

The hours were during the school day so she would be home when Dawn was and it wouldn't interfere with patrol. Another bonus was that it would help her keep an eye on some of the weirdness in town. As she sat there filling out the paperwork she found herself desperately hoping she'd get this one and wouldn't have to stoop to working some horrible fast food job. Which she also had an application for, along with a pizza place.

She checked her watch— Plenty of time to drop these off before Dawn gets home from school—

She sighed looking over the applications. The only one that even sort of sounded good was the secretary position but she would take anything at this point. She had even thought about going back to the Magic Box— if things got bad enough. And things were getting pretty bad.

Once again Spike found himself in the basement of the Magic Box, not for Berber weed this time— he wasn't even sure if what he was looking for would be here. He hadn't been able to get to sleep after talking to Buffy. His mind had been spinning out of control. She finally seemed to be coming around to him little by little but she was still holding back. Still clinging to the idea that he couldn't be good without a soul.

Now with a baby on the way it seemed even more important that he win her over. It had only occurred to him the night before that maybe she couldn't love him because of what the Council had written about him. If she knew about his past maybe that was enough to give her pause. It was all about perspective wasn't it?

From his point of view his time with Dru had been one long and glorious blood-filled adventurous romance. But from the Watcher's perspective, and Buffy's too by extension, it had been nothing but pure evil. Which was true but even now, he knew that the word meant very different things to him than it did to Buffy.

And therein lies the problem.

Buffy needs someone who can be an equal; a counterweight. Someone on the same page as her— I might as well be in a different book.

What if she's right? What if I'm missing something and I'm wrong about this soul thing? What if I'm too much of a monster and not enough of a man to be a good father? What if I haven't changed enough? What if… what if…

He waited on the stairs, mind spiraling. He listened as Anya thanked a customer from behind the counter, and the bell over the door rang. The shop seemed quiet and he slipped out from the basement. He watched her write something in a notebook with her ear pressed against the phone as he slipped soundlessly up to the books Giles kept on the second level.

It only took him a few minutes to find what he was looking for. The pages had even been bookmarked. The thought made his stomach flip. It took him less than an hour to read up on himself but it was enough.

It was clear that the council knew very little about him, especially his life before he was turned. They knew nothing of his upbringing or social status. He actually laughed at one passage that speculated he might have been a railroad worker and peeked down to the lower floor. Anya was helping a customer and she didn't seem to notice his outburst. He settled back into his reading spot, hidden from sight.

A railroad worker… really? Just because I used a railroad spike. No imagination. Wankers don't even have the right decade.

What the council didn't know was only matched by what they actually did get right. The wedding he and Angelus crashed. Several balls and parties they had massacred. The orphanages he had treated Drusilla to. A surprising number of the houses they had hit in various countries and of course the Slayers he had killed.

It was nothing compared to what they had on Angelus, yet he was certain his background had a lot to do with Buffy's unwillingness to enter into a meaningful relationship with him.

As far as she's concerned, I'm still this guy— this evil thing. But if that's true then why does she spend so much time with me? Why did she sleep with me?

He put the book back and sat down with his head in his hands.

Because she was scared and you were there, you moron… because she doesn't feel like she can talk to anyone else… I'm nothing but a last resort… and what about the baby? What happens when the kid is old enough to read this? What if I slip up?

A nasty voice in his head sneered at him.

Face it, William, none of that stuff you did really sounds like a bad idea. You loved every minute of it and you'd do it again if you had the chance… The only reason you aren't now is because of the sodding chip and the fact that Buffy wouldn't like it… and that's why she can't love you.

What if there's a way to get my soul? Could she love me then? Would it be enough?

He let out a quiet sigh and looked around at the books. There were a few he recognized but not many… Is it even possible to get my soul without a curse attached?

He asked himself, as he started looking through the shelves hoping to find something that might lead him to the answer.

Buffy stood in the staff changing room looking at herself in the mirror. Her imagination provided her with a sudden vision of herself in the God awful uniform nine months pregnant and she wanted to cry.

Someone just shoot me… how desperate can I be to wear a CowChicken hat?

She sighed and went out to continue training. It had been almost two weeks since Halloween and she was at the end of her first week at her new job.

It had seemed like Buffy had no more than handed in the applications before she got a call from the DoubleMeat Palace. It was at the bottom of the list of jobs she had been hoping NOT to hear back from but the little bit of money they had left was about to run out. She had to do something, and fast. So she accepted the job and agreed to start work immediately.

She was more than a little ashamed about the job and was still holding out hope that she might hear back from one of the other places she had applied to. She had hardly seen Spike at all and intended to avoid telling him about the job, but it seemed like he was avoiding her too. That hurt more than she thought it should. She had grown accustomed to seeing him almost daily and she was oddly lonely without him.

They had been on patrol together a few times and everything seemed fine between them. He was constantly asking how she was feeling and had even given her some peppermint tea that was supposed to help with the nausea. He was being extremely thoughtful and yet something was just— off. But then she was feeling "off" in general. She was getting tired more easily after patrol and found herself falling asleep almost the instant her head hit the pillow.

Training for work had been daunting. If things at the Magic Box had been boring then this was stagnant. Plus she smelled like grease which was making her stomach turn. The fish nuggets made her want to barf every time they hit the fryer and she had to hide the fact she was running away to throw up. She still hadn't told anyone else about the baby. Her friends were going to have to find out sooner or later but it wasn't a conversation she was looking forward to having.

She stood staring blankly at the empty restaurant and turned to her vacant looking coworker, "I'm going to take a break, it's dead."

"You have a customer."

Buffy turned around.

What the heck? I must be off my game, vampire tingles aren't even going off anymore…

"What are you doing here, Spike?"

He gave an exasperated sigh, leaning on the counter, "Could ask you the same thing, pet. When were you going to tell me bout this?" He asked in an annoyed tone.

"What do you want?"

He lowered his voice, "Certainly not the mother of my child working in a grease pit like this."

"Can we talk about this someplace else?" She asked, looking around nervously. She really didn't want anyone at work to know she was pregnant.

Spike turned towards the bored looking woman standing a few feet away staring into space, "Oi! Girls taking her break."

The woman blinked blankly and tapped at her watch, "You have five minutes."

Yeah… that's not creepy at all…

Buffy came out from around the counter grabbing Spike by the arm and dragging him along with her into the alley behind

"Did you even look at the applications I got you?"

"Filled them out and everything. I know this place isn't great, but they called me back and I really need the money."

"I can get money, Luv."

"Playing kitten poker? What have you been doing anyway? Did you get a job yet like you said you would?"

No, I've actually been a bit preoccupied with trying to figure out a way to get my soul back. Soul and a job… right…

"You're upset."

"Of course I'm upset! Do you really think I wanted to take this job? I had to take it. What choice do I have?"

Spike gripped her by the elbow, pulling her towards him a little, "Come back to my crypt, we'll talk properly."

She shook her head, shrugging him off harder than necessary, "I can't, my shift doesn't end for hours."

"Later then." He huffed, not dropping it.

"I have to be home! I have to make sure Dawn eats."

"I thought the witches were looking after her."

"She's my responsibility, Spike. I can't just drop her when you suddenly want to talk."

"Buffy this is important, you can't just run off and hide."

"I'm not! You're the one who has been avoiding me!"

"I haven't been avoiding, I've just— I'm working on something, it takes time—"

She rolled her eyes, "Like I'm supposed to believe that—"

His heart sank and he took a step towards her, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. He could hear the rhythm of her heart. He wasn't surprised it was beating faster given how upset she was.

"I'm not lying—"

That wasn't her pulse. Not just hers— "Shhh—" he cut off mid sentence.

"Spike, I don't have time for—"

"Shhh—" he knelt down, pressing his ear against her stomach, relishing in the fact she didn't push him away. He took a moment to listen. "I can hear it." He murmured.

"Hear what? Wait— the baby?"

He closed his eyes and nodded, "Tiny little heartbeat going a mile a minute."

"You're kidding right?"

He moved a hand to her stomach as he pulled his head away to look up at her in awe, "It's itty bitty but strong," he turned back towards her stomach, "amazing, just like your mama, eh?" His throat constricted as he said it and his voice came out in little more than a whisper.

Buffy's heart skipped a beat as he continued to speak to the baby, "I promise, I'm going to do everything in my power to give you and your mum what you deserve. Daddy keeps his promises."

She swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to hold back the tears starting to fill her eyes.

Stupid hormones— stupid Spike—

She cleared her throat, "Spike, I— I have to get back to work—" she cut off hesitatingly.

He stood up pulling her close to him with one hand at the small of her back and the other at the nape of her neck. "I mean it, Buffy, I'm going to do whatever it takes. You deserve better."

She shrugged, "You could start with getting a job."

He inched in closer and the breath caught in her throat as she felt herself melt into the kiss. It was their first kiss since the night she had died and she had almost forgotten how much she loved it. She moaned into the kiss happily.

He pulled back slowly, "I'll get on that job thing. For now I'll let you get back to work shall I?" He smirked. "You want me to check on the Nibblet?"

"Will you be there when I get home?"

"I can be."

She nodded shyly, "I think Dawn misses you."

"Just Dawn?"

"Don't push it buster."

He tilted his head a little watching her. She's worth it— she's worth risking everything…

He slipped one hand into his pocket, fingering the folded pieces of ancient paper he had ripped out of one of the books he'd found.

It might be time to seek some professional advice, William.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Luv."

Spike peered into the back door of the Summers house where Dawn was finishing her homework at the kitchen island. He let himself in, "What is it tonight Nibblet?"

"Oscar Wilde," Dawn groaned.

"That'll be enough of that, Wilde was brilliant just got to understand the context is all."

"That's easy for you to say. What are you doing here anyway? Buffy isn't due back for like—" she looked at the clock, "at least two more hours. And that's if she blows off patrol."

"Yeah, had a chat with big sis, told her I'd make sure you'd eaten something other than junk."

Dawn glared at him. "We had the leftovers Buffy made the other night. Thank you very much. I even ate my vegetables."

"Glad to hear it. The witches round? I'd like to have a chat with them."

"I'm pretty sure Willow is in the shower but Tara is in the living room."

"Thanks, bit. Let me know if you need help with Oscar there."

"Uhh huh…" she murmured waving her hand.

Spike rolled his eyes as he strode into the living room and sat down next to Tara on the couch. Tara looked at him with a questioning eye.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Same old. You?" He asked as he tapped his foot in mild agitation.

"Ahh, yeah… I'm good— Alright, don't get me wrong here, but is there something you needed?"

He sighed, "Can I talk to you and Red bout something and ask you not to mention it to Buffy?"

Tara frowned, "Ohh I— I don't know Spike, that's—"

"It's not anything evil, promise. Sort of the opposite really—"

"Alright you have my attention, I'm listening."

"I hum… I've been doing some research and came cross this," he pulled the torn out pages from his pocket and handed them over to her, "I heard bout this legend years ago when I was in China but never gave it much thought till I found this. What do you make of it?"

She read it over carefully and shook her head, "Spike, is this- are you telling me you want to get your soul back?"

"I do."

She shook her head again, "If this thing is even real— if you even get there and find this demon shaman guy; the trials alone could kill you. Like the dusty kind."

He frowned at that. As much as he wanted to get his soul, even if it was just to make a point, he wasn't sure if he was desperate enough to risk dying for it. Surely the baby would be better off with a soulless father than none at all right?

He nodded once and folded the pages, cramming them back into his pocket. "Appreciate the candor, Glinda."

Tara gave him a very serious look, "I'll talk to Willow. I can't make any guarantees but we might be able to come up with something better. It could take time though. Especially if we need to track down some artifact or something."

"Understood. But you think it's possible right? No strings?"

"I don't know yet. We're going to have to figure that out. But I'm thinking that the fact that you are a willing participant works in your favor. I'll talk to her and see what she says alright?"

He nodded. It's something right? A step closer to giving her what she wants… a man with a soul… maybe? Soul or not, kid needs a dad…