Subject: [SpikesSalvation] Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet- Epilogue(s)
Date: Wed, 17 Dec 2003 17:33:54 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerusha Hancock <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com
To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com


A/N: So here it is: the epilogue and the end of the story I'm sure you've all 
been waiting for. As you'll notice, there are two possible endings. As I was 
writing this story, I found myself completely certain of Spike, but not so much 
of Buffy. Would she let him stay, or would she ask him to go? And as I 
considered, I came up with two distinctly different possibilities. Anyway, take 
your pick as to which one you like better. I'm still not sure.


Epilogue 1: Stay

He had stayed in the basement for two weeks, and Buffy had let him. They were 
doing their best to avoid one another, mostly because the future was too much 
to deal with at this point. She had never thought that even the idea of Spike 
leaving permanently would hurt this much, and yet she had steeled herself to do 
her duty. She'd sent one boyfriend to hell, after all. Letting another one 
leave town should be a piece of cake.

But it wasn't, and so she'd avoided him, if only to put that much more distance 
between them before he was well enough to leave, so that when the time came she 
could actually let him go.

Everyone knew about the chip being out, but Giles had been too busy with Willow 
to say anything about it, and Xander had kept his mouth shut as well, 
understanding that Spike didn't deserve a stake after all he had done for them, 
and accepting that he wouldn't hurt Buffy and the rest of the gang at least. He 
was still feeling a little iffy about the rest of the population, however. 
Willow, of course, wasn't thinking about Spike at all, even if she had realized 
that removing the chip was tantamount to another murder, give or take a 
thousand—assuming Spike went back to feeding. So they knew he was going to 
leave, or that Buffy was going to run him out of town. And Buffy knew they 
expected it, which was just one more reason to stick to her guns.

The time came too soon, and Buffy came in after patrol three weeks after the 
averted apocalypse to find Spike waiting for her in the living room. She knew 
immediately what was going on, since the crutches were nowhere in sight. And 
she watched as he stood and walked towards her. He still wasn't completely 
healed, she could tell. His left leg dragged just a little, and after months 
with no practice, his steps were somewhat uncertain, the swagger gone.

They were silent, his eyes never leaving hers. At least until that pesky left 
foot caught on the carpet, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. But Buffy's 
reflexes were honed after months of living with him, and she caught him before 
he could hit the ground.

Buffy froze as she realized that Spike's mouth was about a centimeter away from 
her neck, and he would be able to take a bite out of her before she could do 
anything about it. She should have shoved him away as soon as she realized, but 
instead she tilted her head in an open temptation, her senses screaming. And 
she felt his cool lips kiss her neck, right over the scars left by Angel and 
the Master.

Slowly, he righted himself and smiled at her. "I've already said my goodbyes to 
the Niblet," he said softly. "Told her you weren't to blame, but she's swearin' 
it'll be a blue moon before she talks to you again. You'll want to give her 
some time."

"Spike—"

"You'll say goodbye to the rest of the bunch for me," he went on, as though he 
hadn't heard her. "Make sure you take Harris down a peg or two for me before he 
gets too cocky with all the world-savin'."

Spike knew what he was doing. He was leaving before she had to ask him to go, 
because he didn't hurt Buffy, and this had been part of the deal. Spike kept 
his promises, always.

Buffy watched him in a fog, part of her paralyzed, and the other part screaming 
at her to tell him to stay, to forbid him to walk out that door. She'd grown 
used to him, and he was leaving. And then his hand was on the knob, and he was 
turning the handle, and the door was open, and his duffel was slung over his 
shoulder (where had that come from), and—

"You can't eat anybody," she blurted out. Spike froze, not turning around. "If 
you decide to stay, you can't eat anybody, and I mean it, Spike."

He turned to look at her incredulously. "And no going back to your crypt, 
because I really don't want to have to visit you there."

"Buffy?"

"And no wet towels on the floor either," she said, tears threatening. "Because 
you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself now, so there's no excuse."

"Luv?"

"And you can't leave," she said. "If you stay, there will be no leaving. And if 
you do, I swear I will hunt you down, and there won't be enough left of you to 
fit in an ashtray. So this is your last chance, because if you stay then you're 
not leaving ever."

Spike swallowed and shut the door, putting down the duffel. "Any more rules I 
should know about, pet?" he asked with an uncertain smile.

"Kiss me."

And he did. And this time the kiss was long and hard and demanding. Desperate 
and hungry. There was nothing left unsaid in this kiss, and it held the promise 
of more, infinitely more to come. "Why?" he breathed, when Buffy had to come up 
for air.

"Because I think you can do it," she replied. "And because I love you."

He grinned, and proceeded to show her just how good he was at following her 
rules.


 Epilogue 2: Boomerang

Buffy sat on the back porch and sighed. She still couldn't believe she'd let 
him go. His hand had been on the doorknob, and she'd wanted so badly to ask him 
to stay, and she'd been silent, unable to say the words. Looking back, of 
course, she realized she'd trusted him. She'd left him alone with her little 
sister after the chip had come out, and he hadn't given her a scratch. Whether 
or not he would have been safe around the rest of the population, she could 
have asked him not to feed. And he would have promised, and then he would have 
kept that promise.

That was just Spike.

The bright spot in all of this was that he'd never promised not to come back. 
She'd offered him a deal, but there were no promises made. And he left his 
coat, which she was certain he would return for eventually.

Buffy looked up at the night sky, staring at the stars. Spike had been gone for 
over three months now, and the house was much quieter without him. It had been 
even more silent for the first three weeks when Dawn had stubbornly refused to 
speak to her. Her sister had come around after a while, mostly after Buffy had 
admitted that she missed him and wished she'd told him to stay. That confession 
had thawed Dawn out considerably; as long as her sister was also suffering, 
that was good enough.

But it didn't change the fact that they were both missing Spike horribly. And 
then she smiled into the darkness.

"Spike."

"Hello, Buffy." He stepped out of the shadows of the back yard into the light 
from the porch. His shirt and jeans were ragged, the duffel he still carried 
threadbare. Even his hair was scruffy, longer with the roots showing, giving 
his face a softer look, even as his haggard demeanor made him look older and 
harder.

"I was wondering when you would come back to town," she said, smiling.

"It was s'posed to be a surprise," he replied, taking another step forward. She 
noticed his left foot still dragged a bit. "An' I wasn't supposed to come back."

"You left your coat," she explained.

He put the duffel down on the grass. "Was wonderin' where I'd left it." There 
was a long silence, and then he said, "Won't stay long, Buffy. I just wanted to 
look in on you and the Bit."

Buffy froze. This was the way it could be, she realized. For years and years, 
he would wander around and return every so often to check up on her and Dawn 
and make sure they were fine. And then he would leave again, and it would go 
on, a different version of the same-old dance until he was dust or she was 
dead. And she could stop it, just like she could have prevented him from 
leaving in the first place.

"Do you want to come in for some hot chocolate? Or some blood? Or both?" she 
asked hopefully.

He hesitated. "Are you sure, luv? You might not want to invite me back into 
your house. I can stay out here."

She reached out and took his hand. "You were never uninvited, Spike."

He followed her into the house almost shyly. "Didn't know that I'd find you so 
welcoming, luv."

"I missed you," she replied simply. "Where did you go?"

"Africa."

"What's in Africa?"

"Demon bloke, grants wishes." He sat down on a stool. "Where's Dawn?"

"At a friend's, spending the night." Buffy glanced up from where she was 
pouring the blood into a mug. The blood she still kept for him. She thought he 
looked like he could use a good meal. "What did you wish for?"

"Doesn't really matter," he hedged. "Still evil and all that. Thought I'd stop 
by to see the Niblet and be on my way again. Promised her I would, you know."

She shook her head, handing him the mug. "First of all, I'd like to know what 
you wished for. Second, you're not leaving again."

"'m not?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "That really up to you, pet?"

Buffy glared at him. "It is if I lock you up in the basement until you agree 
not to leave."

"Point," he said with more than a hint of amusement. "Doesn't change the fact 
that the chip's out."

"I don't care," she said. "If I tell you not to eat people you won't. I knew 
that before you left and I was stupid and let you go anyway." Buffy swallowed 
and then came closer, running a gentle hand along his face and through his 
hair. "What did you wish for, Spike?"

"My soul." She greeted his pronouncement with silence, and then gave him a slow 
smile.

"How's that working out for you?" she asked.

He shrugged, a classic Spike gesture. "Some days are better than others. I 
wanted to stay with you, Buffy."

"And I want you to stay. Forever, if possible. That work for you?" Her eyes 
caressed his face, his mouth, his cheekbones.

He smiled. "I think I might be able to work that into my schedule, luv." There 
were no more words, only touching and kissing and heading up the stairs for a 
more intimate reunion. And they loved one another until the dawn came and they 
were both too exhausted to move. "I love you, you know," Buffy said 
conversationally.

"Because of the soul?" he asked, and it felt like the most important question 
ever asked.

"No, because you're you," she said, and felt his arms tighten around her.

"I never thought we'd be here," he admitted.

She sat up to look at him. "Neither did I, but now that we are, I'm not in a 
big hurry to leave."

"Then let's not." And they didn't leave her room for a very long time.

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