Endings and Beginnings

The house is quiet now. Seems strange after all the racket the Potentials have been making for the last few months. Hard to believe that the fight's over now and we won without losin' anyone, without really fighting. Just holdin' hands and singing Kumbaya. Guess The Beatles were right after all. All you need is love.

It's been over a month now. Xander and Anya have gone back to their own apartments. The little boy, Andrew, turned himself in for his friend's murder. Don't know if he'll ever be prosecuted though; can't seem to find a body or any other evidence. Rupert's been taking the little girls back home. He looks worn out, poor bastard, but it's down to just Molly and Kennedy now. I don't think Kennedy's going anywhere. She and Red seem to be pretty tight now. When Rupes takes Molly home to Jolly Olde England, he's staying. He and the few Watchers that escaped The Bringers are going to try and rebuild the Watcher's Council. Some of them have already gotten access to the funds and have been sending support to Buffy and Faith, the second slayer. Good on them. 'bout time they ponied up.

I'm still here, living in Buffy's basement. I should probably leave, move back to my crypt, but she hasn't told me she's ready for me to leave yet, so I stay. Tonight I'm upstairs watching the telly. It's just an excuse really to be up here for when Buffy comes home. She's out again with the Principal.

At last I hear his car pull up. I act all casual-like. Don't want Buffy to know I've been waiting for her. But when she comes in the door, I know. I know just the same way I knew what Xander and Anya did in my cot that night. The same way I knew that Willow and Kennedy had moved on from kissing. I look at her, and I smell her, and I know.

I sit frozen; a corpse. That's what I am really - a corpse. A dead thing that doesn't have the sense to lie down. Buffy looks at me, sees my face and goes still. Finally she moves towards me.

That's right, Buffy, come on. If you're going to stake me, bloody just do it!

She picks up the remote control and turns the television off. Sitting on the coffee table she looks at me and goes in for the kill. Well she's the Slayer, ain't she? Knows how to give the coup de grace. Taking a deep breath she says the words. Says the words I've been waitin' over two fucking years to hear. The words that girl Cassie told me she'd tell me one day.

"Spike, I love you." I don't move. I'm a corpse and corpses are inanimate.

"I love you," she says again, "but I can't be with you. I want more. I want children and a husband who can go to their Little League games with me and on afternoon picnics. I want a normal life."

She has tears in her eyes. Those tears that turned me from the Big Bad to whatever the hell I am now.

"Robin asked me to marry him tonight. I said yes."

Well, that's that then. I stand up. Amazing. I'm a corpse, but I can move. I think I tell her congratulations. I turn and go to my basement bedroom. I can hear her crying. Or maybe it's me.

I stand there for a while and then I go to the chest where I have my things. Not much there. Some jeans, a few shirts, the jacket I wore before Buffy called back the Big Bad. I take them out and looking around I spot an old knapsack. I take it. Yeah, it's stealing, but hey, 'Evil' remember? Folding everything neatly, I pack up my clothes. I hear water running now, so I know Buffy's gone upstairs. I pick up my old leather duster. I had thought about giving it to Wood after I found out about his mother, but it's mine now. It's one of the costumes I wear.

I go upstairs and open the refrigerator, take out the packets of pig's blood in there. Decide to drink one for the road. I take my mug out of the cupboard. It's a promotional mug from a life insurance company. Ironic, innit? A vampire that dealt death for over a hundred and twenty years drinking pig's blood from a mug advertising life insurance. After my meal, I rinse out the cup and place in on the drain board, then think again and throw it away. Nobody else will want to drink from it.

I don't leave a note. I don't say goodbye. I open the back door and leave. I have enough money in my pocket for a tank of gas and some oil for the motorcycle I still have stashed away. Not sure where I'll end up, but for now, well Angel has his soul back again so maybe I'll head on down to LA for awhile. Tell him Buffy's good news. We can get pissed together.

But I swear if he starts singing, I'll stake him.

The End