Epilogue

Disclaimer: All Joss, I only wish they were mine.
 

"Hybrid?" Spike pushed the word past a curled lip and flicked the butt of his cigarette halfway across the cemetery. For the past two weeks he'd been probed, poked, and questioned about everything from his turning to the visions...his patience was wearing thin.

"Don't kill the messenger." Buffy chuckled as she walked beside him, her strides matching his effortlessly. "I just thought you'd like to know what Giles came up with."

Sighing, he sauntered over to a large oak tree and settled himself atop the dew-kissed grass and grave dirt, leaning back. "Funny. Supposed to be this big, all-knowing bloke, and I can't even figure out what I am anymore."

She watched him for a few moments, saw turmoil in his eyes, heard the unease in his voice. When she thought about it, Buffy realized that since his last episode, they had spent a lot of time talking like this. By now it seemed easy and familiar...comforting almost. He kept inventing excuses to come over. Being a teenager, Dawn didn't appreciate it when he burst through the front door at 9 AM on a Saturday wanting to take her to the park. It was strange, seeing him in the sunlight. Like his moods were inexplicably tuned to dawn and dusk. In the sun, he laughed and joked. She had sworn he was going to look like a lobster after the first two days as much time as he spent outside. Thankfully, she had been wrong, but his skin was getting to be a nice healthy bronzed color and the dark circles that had appeared beneath his eyes when this ordeal began were slowly fading. When they were alone in the night though, he changed. As the moon rose, his disposition darkened, and she wasn't sure if it was the visions or his personal demons that haunted him. Buffy noticed that he was still sitting slumped against the tree staring out at the stars, and she moved to sit beside him.

"You okay?" She nudged him softly with her shoulder.

"No pet, I'm not. Don't know if I'll ever be okay again."

She sighed and shook her head. "Hey, at the rate you're going you'll out-brood the Broodmaster himself."

"Not brooding." Spike growled, cringing at the mention of grandsire.

"Yeah. You are," she said softly and felt his body surge with a rising tide of emotion.

When he turned his gaze on her, his eyes flashed with a hint of the old malice for a split second before they softened. "What the hell am I supposed to do, love? I'm still stuck between worlds. No heartbeat or body heat. No chip. No demon. Bloody hell, from what the watcher said, I should be dead...but I'm not. What am I?"

Buffy leaned her head back against the tree and shifted closer to him until her hip and shoulder rested against his. It was a gesture she'd learned placated him when he got like this. "You know Spike, there are a lot of people in the world who ask the same thing every day...and some who don't even get around to wondering about it." She shifted her body to face him, her hand cupping his cheek, then lifting his chin gently until his eyes met hers. "Sometimes the best solution is just to be."

Perhaps it was the unshed tears that clung like fine diamonds on his lower lashes, or the pain in the blue eyes cloaked behind them. If he had asked her why afterwards, Buffy would not have been able to find the words. Maybe it was the moon. Heart beating erratically against her ribcage, she leaned closer, her own eyelashes grazing gently against her cheeks. When her lips brushed against the cool, softness of his, she could swear the earth sighed.
 
 
 

FIN
 
 

A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone for their kind reviews, and all the support and encouragement you've given. I may continue this in another series, but at this point I don't know. I apologize if the end has seemed a bit rushed, but this was a story of Spike's transformation. Thank you all again, and I hope that when my new fic comes out you'll return to read it as well.