Disclaimer: OK, so last week I went to see this guy I know, right, called Joss Whedon. I hired a limo (super stretch, chilled bar, satellite TV, the works), bought flowers (lush red roses and white lilies (imported, they don't grow in these conditions), treated him to a dinner at what is certified the world's (yes, WORLD'S) most expensive restaurant (found it through Google!), and let him order anything he wanted, heck, I even paid a coupla my *cough* well-endowed friends to *cough* dance for him, and y'know what he said?
'I appreciate it and everything, but you can't have Spike.'
'Fine, how about someone less important to your show. Can I have Buffy?'
'No! All the characters are mine!' Then he paused. 'OK, I guess you deserve something for your efforts (and bankruptcy, I added)…you can have Riley.'
'Ew! No!'
So he turned to leave, a girl on each arm, and finally looked back. 'Oh, and Emi? You've got a pretty bad cough there. You might wanna do something about it.'
So I sat down, glaring at his back as he walked out, thinking that nothing could make this night any worse. Then I saw the bill.
The moral of that is, Joss Whedon is a selfish git. But he's also rich (although he didn't pay a penny for that whole experience), and owns Spike, so I guess we can make allowances. But I'll get him next time…I'm already forming a plan...
Feedback: I'm broke and outta chocolate. Feedback is the only thing that makes me feel truly alive…except shagging Spike, but that's not really an option. He's become so into that Buffy chick that he doesn't have time for one of his oldest and dearest *cough* friends anymore… s_star
Dedication: It's ending, and I feel a sappy moment coming on…everyone who's reviewed on Central, I love you, as I do everyone who's sent me feedback via e-mail, everyone who's visited my site, Deadly Desire (and let me take this opportunity to say ), everyone who's written B/S fanfiction, ever: you guys keep me going, and to JM for being so damn fine and inspiring me to write this LOVELY story.

AN - OK, that alone is nearly half a page of A4 (print margins 1cm all the way round), so I'll be brief.

It's an epilogue. It comes after the last chapter. If you haven't read the last chapter, you'll have no idea what the hell is going on. And if you're just checking out the last part to make sure it's a Spuffy ending before you actually bother to read it (come on, we all do it…unless it's just me, in which case, y'know, forget I said anything)…it is totally and completely B/S. But at the same time, it's kinda not.

You'll know what I mean…

Epilogue - Into Nothingness

Everything was white. No, it wasn't white. It didn't have a colour. There was just nothing. There was no body, no mind, no spirit, just a being. It wasn't a soul, it was…the essence of a person. What made them them in the past world, condensed into one nameless, shapeless form. There was no consciousness, no feeling, no emotion, no knowledge. No senses, no way of knowing what was around. You didn't need to know. And it wasn't that it was just…there, and you somehow knew it…because there was nothing. It was like a little piece of nothing, surrounded by nothingness. No different from any vacuum. To the naked eye, even to a trained eye with the greatest of magnification, no significance could be made between the space the…entity filled and the very atom next to it. There could be an infinite number of other beings, or there could be an infinite space…there was no way to distinguish them.

But somehow, it was still itself. As if what was imprinted on it, contained within it, was still a whole person, body, mind, blood.

There were many other entities like it, floating, suspended in a sea of emptiness, waiting to be found, waiting to be filled.

Some were standing still, just waiting, others seemed to float around, searching for something they could not name, without conscious knowledge or thought of what they were doing.

The only thing that was experienced within the beings was emptiness, a loneliness which couldn't be satisfied until the unnamed thing they were yearning for could be with them, an aching need deep inside that was so painful no words could be given.

Suddenly, a strange sensation washed over the being that had once been Buffy Summers, and for a second the emptiness within faded. There was a moment in which there was an even stranger emptiness, wondering where the original emptiness should be, but then there was…peace. If the she could, Buffy would've turned and smiled one last smile to her lover, before finally dying again, knowing that both she and her soulmate were content, together, and able, at last, to rest.