Epilogue

*Warning: I'm a total sap for fluffy endings.*

A week after being brutally tortured by two homosexual world leaders and lying in a pool of his own blood for nearly twenty-four hours, Spike felt good.

He sat at the kitchen table in the Summers' house, looking over Dawn's shoulder as she did her Math homework. After a few minutes of staring at the page and tapping her pencil nervously, she groaned and pushed the book away from her.

"I am *never* going to understand this stuff," she whined.

"Come on, it's easy," Spike said. "You just need to visualize it." He pulled the book closer and pointed to one of the problems. "Like here. 8x divided by 4 equals 7. Imagine that you have 8 dead humans, and 7 vampires want to eat them. A corpse has four limbs, so how many limbs would each vampire get?"

Buffy only rolled her eyes as she entered the room with a sheet of paper in her hands.

"Hey, pet, what you making for dinner?"

"A phone call," she replied, tossing the menu towards him.

"Three and a half limbs!" Dawn shouted, excitedly scribbling in her notebook.

"Dawnie, you okay with pizza?" Buffy asked.

"Whatever, I'm just dying for some caffeine."

"We have soda here," Buffy said. "I'll get you some."

Spike followed her into the kitchen, where he found her sitting on top of the counter, stretching to reach the glasses on the top shelf. He moved right up against her, his hands finding her waist before she had a chance to object.

The motion of his body against hers always made her dizzy. The slightest brush, and all her chosen-one strength and coordination was done for. Especially when she was sitting on a corner of her countertop, and his body was between her legs, and she could tell from the slight trembling in his legs that, at that moment, he couldn't have fought a drunken garden slug either.

"So no news from the poncy presidents?" Spike murmured against her shoulder.

Buffy shook her head. "Well, I'm sure they're *in* the news, but they're not in town, so things are okay."

"Really?" Spike asked, pulling his head back so he could look at her. "Things are okay?"

"Well, the bad guys of this week are gone. Now I just have to worry about raising a teenager, getting a job, fixing the washing machine, preventing the next big apocalypse and living in abject poverty." She smiled. "But...I have this amazing little sister who shows me more love than I ever thought possible, I have great friends who are there for me even when things get impossibly rough, and..." She ran her hand down his arm. "And I have this guy who can just look at me and make me forget all the crappy things in the world. Plus, he can do this really cool thing with his tongue."

"I am pretty damned irresistible, aren't I?"

Buffy hit him on the chest, keeping the palm of her hand flattened against him, as if she was going to push him away. "You know, every time I start to like you, you have to go and talk."

Spike shrugged with mock innocence. "Not my fault that I'm the summit of your existence, love."

Buffy let her head fall towards him, meeting her hand, closing her eyes, feeling his arms as they circled her, and his body as it moved even closer.

"I hate you," she said.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I hate you too."

The End