Chapter Text
Spike was a creature of the night. Had been since he was a young man struggling as a poet, would be until the day he chose to walk into the sun. Or got staked. Or found a way to trip over his own two feet into a fifty foot hole.
Never say never. It could happen. Seriously. Don't underestimate the earth beneath one's feet. Crazy stuff
So why was he down bad for a woman in his mid-twenties whose whole job was killing his kind? Why did her family let him into their home, her friends let them live just steps away from them, heck why hadn't he already tried to kick the bucket already? This was his calling--to kill the Slayers, it was his whole deal.
And yet...
"Dawn, I'm serious. They will not be taking you seriously if you answer interview questions like that."
"What do you know about interviews, Mr. Stake-First-Ask-Later?"
He was helping his girlfriend's little sister apply for a job at some place or other. Something with social services, because she liked helping people and keeping her friends safe.
The things he did. No wonder Buffy had always been convinced he was a good guy who could in fact gain a soul.
"Even I know that shrugging your shoulders is a one-way ticket to not getting a job, Dawn."
"And where was the last place you worked? Walmart?"
"Why Walmart? That's minimum-wage bullcrap if you think I worked there, when you very well know I teach at your sister's monster-hunter school."
"That's what all the internet jokes say." Dawn said pointedly. "Vampires work at Walmart, because there aren't any windows and you have to be welcomed in "
Spike reminded himself he was a good vampire who drank from bloodbags and not people, and he had once sworn an oath to protect his girlfriend's sister, an oath he had kept and would keep. It was quite unfortuante Dawn was no longer scared of him when he showed his fangs, really....