Epilogue Anya's Final Thoughts
 

Author's Note: This is the epilogue, by Anya. What can I say, I couldn't leave without letting her have her say! I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

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I never thought I'd get over Xander, I loved him so much, I couldn't see anything beyond him. And when he didn't come to find me, I just thought that Halfrek was right – you can't trust men. I thought he couldn't have loved me if he couldn't be bothered to come and find me. Then one day, there was a knock at my motel door and it was Spike and Tara. I wouldn't have gone with them if it hadn't been for Spike. He had a point, several, mainly that I shouldn't be the one to run away.

I always thought that Spike and Tara would end up together, they were always so free with each other. And when I heard them in the bathroom, I had to say something. I was always quite open with thinking his ass was one of the prettiest I'd ever seen, but I'd never said I cared. But when I heard him say Buffy told him he was nothing, disgusting and soulless, the way he said it was almost like he believed it. It was the most horrible thing I've ever heard. You look at Spike and you see the swagger, the smirk, the cigarette, the wild way he fights, you don't see someone as vulnerable as he sounded when I heard him talk to Tara. I might have walked away and watched the end of Scooby Doo, but I had to tell him I cared too. And, when I'd finished, he looked... touched. It gave me a nice feeling to think I'd made him feel better. And he really seemed to care about us; Tara and I. I thought it was her idea to come and find me, but it was his. It was Spike that said "hey, let's find that Anya!" and you wouldn't have thought it, would you? But there's a lot of things you wouldn't have thought Spike would do. Like wrapping Tara and I up in bandages after our brush with the Fraygon demon, he didn't even acknowledge we were bleeding. And he cared, tried to stop Tara and I coming with him to kill it, but when we turned up anyway, he was only mad because he thought we were in danger.

When he walked in on me in the shower, I knew I should have been offended, but all I could think of was the wonderful possibilities of a naked me and a sexy vampire. That was probably why I overreacted and beat him over the head with my loofah. But when he left the bathroom, I remembered just why I was home so early. I didn't take much to open up to him; I probably wouldn't have cracked so quickly if he hadn't touched me. I told him I was sick, so he reached out and felt my forehead. His cool but strong touch brought back the memories of the ideas I'd had in the bathroom, so I pulled away. The only way I could think of to rid myself of things I knew I shouldn't be thinking was to tell him. I could have stopped him, when he went after Xander because he gave me the picture of the two of us together. But I didn't. I let him go. I saw him pick up his sword, and I just told him to have fun.

I knew where he was going and why, and I didn't care.

He was annoyed when he got home, you could tell. His jaw was clenched and those blue eyes of his flashed angrily. He slammed the door and stood for a second, gripping his sword until I thought the handle would snap in two. Then I saw him look at the photo frame the picture of Xander and I had been in. I saw my chance to cheer him up and grabbed it with both hands because then he would smile, and I like his smile. So I told him the receipt in it was the first one I ever rang up. And it was hard work trying to suppress the wide grin that wanted to spread over my face when he grinned. After that, he was as cheerful as usual, he sat down, and I cuddled against him. He was comfy.

I couldn't help thinking it was my fault that he left. The day after he left, when Tara, Dawn and I found the note, Tara told me that she'd told him she and Willow were getting back together. But I couldn't help thinking it was my fault, because he would be alone if we both left. Tara would go, but I would have still been there. Then I decided that I wanted his advice. He could have told me to stay away from Xander, but he didn't, he told me if I couldn't live without him, then I should go back to him. It all seemed so perfect; I loved Xander and getting back together with him made sense. But even when I told Spike that, something inside... broke when I thought that I wouldn't wake up on a Sunday and watch cartoons with them or watch a horror movie and laugh at the stupid stereotypes. I liked this lifestyle, where no one told me I couldn't say this or that, even when I embarrassed Tara by talking about her and Spike becoming a couple. And suddenly he was gone and it all went so wrong. And all I could think of was Spike's last words to me.

"Think 'bout it, Anya, do you think that, if you didn't get back with him now and you never got back with him, you'd regret? I know you still love him, you know you still love him and I know how much you've probably tried not to, but can you live without him? Can you live the rest of your life knowing you passed up the chance to be with the man you love?"

"That's the other end of the scale, pet, you could go back to him and in a few months or years it could go wrong again. Could you take that chance? Do you think it's worth the risk?"

And that one question, "can you live without him?" echoed in my mind all the time. Life became hard, a struggle. No matter how hard Tara tried to cheer me up, all I could think about was how much I missed him. It wasn't Xander I couldn't live without.

It was Spike.

Every day, I stayed a little longer at the shop, hoping that this time the books would take my mind off him, but they never did. It was in the shop that he appeared after being gone a week. We knew where he was, Angel had called and told us Spike was with him. But he hadn't come back and I think even Dawn was giving up hope of ever seeing him again.

I never did.

His first words were "'Ello, Sunshine." I thought I'd heard the bell jingle, I thought I'd seen him out of the corner of my eye, but there had been so many times that I had thought that, I didn't believe it. But the words, the nickname "Sunshine" sending the familiar thrills up my spine and drawing up the hairs on the back of my neck. That was when I believed he was back. I turned slowly and could have cried out. There was a long cut along his cheek, bleeding heavily, his nose was swollen, purple and bleeding and from the way he stood, I thought he had probably been kicked in his southern area. So I decided to concentrate on that because it would give me something else to think about and it would be an excuse to touch him. When I had finished, I waited for that voice to speak, but he didn't, so I had to start. I babbled on and on and I couldn't stop. But he saved me, stopped me and asked me if I missed him. I didn't answer and when he stood up and stalked up to me, my knees almost gave way. When he told me he missed me and came back for me, everything froze. There was just him, staring at me, sexy and vulnerable all at the same time. His poor battered face staring into mine, looking for a hint of feeling. Have you ever heard "Hanging By A Moment" by Lifehouse? That's how it was. I was standing there until he made me move. And he didn't, not physically, but he made me want to touch him. So I did. I cupped his cheek and felt that smooth, cool skin. Then he grabbed my waist and ran a hand over my hair down to my neck to pull me close. When he kissed me, I wondered how I had spent so long with Xander when this man was here, waiting, needing to be love. I fell in love with him when his tongue brushed mine.

Then, when we stopped kissing, he grinned and said, "wanna go to the Bronze?"

It wasn't what I had in mind, but I was willing to follow him anywhere. So I nodded and he tore the white patch I had placed over the cut on his cheek off and threw it in the bin. He pressed a kiss to my hair and laced his fingers through mine, pulling me out of the shop. We walked quietly, not talking and when we got to the Bronze, it was... intense. When we danced, it was like sex. Only with music, in a public place, with less groping and more clothes. I prayed that Tara and Willow would be at Buffy's and someone must have been listening, because the apartment was empty. If I had thought Xander was good, I was beyond wrong. Spike was... Spike. There's no other way to explain. I've heard that sex can be like a religious experience it, I didn't believe it until then.

A few days later, I told him I loved him. His reaction wasn't what I'd hoped.

"Oh, pet," he sighed and pulled me close.

I knew it was a way of avoiding saying it back, and I told him so.

"You don't have to say it back," I told him, "I want you to mean it when you say it."

He smiled, that gentle, warm smile and pulled me down onto his chest.

I love that. If I rest my head just so on his chest, with his arm around my shoulders and my arm across his stomach, I'll say something, anything to get him to talk. And when he talks, you can feel the vibrations through that toned chest, the deep rumble of his accent, thick as treacle, strong and manly.

When he told me he loved me, it was amazing.

"Anya," he paused with only half of the buttons of my shirt undone.

"What?" I asked, slightly irritated that he wanted to talk when I wanted to have sex.

"I love you."

The world fell away and there was just him, gazing sincerely up at me. I felt the tears prick in my eyes and I didn't know why. I was happy, beyond happy. The tears spilled out over my cheeks, but the smile never left my face.

"Hey, hey, love," he said gently and slithered up my body to lie beside me. He wiped a tear away with his thumb and brushed my lips with the gentlest of kisses.

"I love you, too," I whispered and tangled my fingers in his hair with just the right amount of pressure to make him growl.

That was the first time we truly made love.

He looks up at me and grins. I was so caught up in memories that I didn't notice him looking at me. I smile back and give the counter another wipe.

"I think it's done, Anya," Tara says and leans against the counter in the way she does when she wants to chat. We've become good friends, bonded, I think is what it's called. I like her, I didn't realise I was jealous of her relationship with Spike, but then I got him and she only has Willow.

"I was thinking about last night," I half whisper to her. I know not to go too far, that too many details could embarrass her. I go on anyway, "seven orgasms," I hiss, "in a row!"

Spike splutters with loud laughter and the others look between him and me. Ha, he has vampire hearing. I know that they want to know what the joke is, but I'm not saying. Over the last couple of weeks, I've gotton used to nobody saying "Anya, you can't say that," or "that's not the kind of thing we say in company, Ahn." Spike doesn't care if I tell them how great he is in bed; in fact, I think he's proud. I think he thinks it proves he is worth something.

And another thing I love about my Spike is he doesn't call me "Ahn."I really hate that, my name is Anya. I don't mind when Spike calls me "Sunshine" but I really, really hate "Ahn." Only Xander ever called me "Ahn."

Things are really working out. Xander and Spike are on speaking terms and Xander said he hopes I'm happy. Tara and I go out shopping a lot and she's really fun to be with. Buffy and Spike are "friends" – if you can be friends with someone who called you a "disgusting thing" – and Spike and I think Xander and Buffy will start dating. I wouldn't be surprised, I think Xander was always half in love with her. Dawn still comes over every day after school, but she doesn't stay – thank God – and I don't mind, I actually quite like her. And Spike does too.

I finish the paperwork and throw the keys of the shop to Willow. I never lock up anymore, I leave as soon as it's dusk, unless there's a meeting I'm invited to. Spike's a bad influence on me. Just the thought of that makes my antsy.

"Need to go home, Spike," I tell him and raise my eyebrows.

"I like the sound of that," he says and stands up in one fluid motion, the duster billowing out behind him. The pointed tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips and my stomach flutters at the thought of that tongue and its many talents.

"Home," I say urgently.

"As you wish, m'lady," he grabs my hand and drags me outside, poking his head inside again to yell, "bye!"

"Goodbye, Spike. Goodbye, Anya," they chorus innocently.

We kiss the whole way home; it's the perfect way to walk.

Kissing the lips of the man you love.

Kissing Spike.

Wow.

***

Wow, indeed. And that is truly THE END!