Out with the Old

Author: Emily

Parts: 6 - Epilogue

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~Part: 6~

Spike pouted for a full five minutes. Normally, Willow would have
tried to cheer him up by talking to him and telling him funny or
interesting things about her day until she finally got him to smile
and respond. That was how she usually handled it when he pouted, or
sulked, or brooded. But she was a little jealous and more than a
little hurt by the way he had been acting. She had suggested this
patrol so that she and Spike could work out whatever was bothering
him. After all, Riley would probably be staying for at least a few
days, and she wanted Spike to be okay with that and not feel hurt or
threatened or whatever it was he felt that made him lash out like
that. But Spike didn't want to talk. He wanted to sulk and pout and
think, no doubt, about Buffy and how much he loved her and how much
that made him hate Riley. Fine, then. If Buffy was still all that he
could think about, then she wouldn't even attempt to distract him
from his thoughts by talking to him. If he'd rather think about a
ghost who, at best, only ever tolerated him than talk to a girl who
adored him then that was his choice. She'd push through the patrol
quickly and let Spike get back to his crypt to mourn Buffy another
night while she would return to the house and cry over Spike for
another night.

Spike was approaching panic. She was supposed to be talking to him,
trying to cheer him up. That was what she always did when he got
quiet like this. When everyone else in the gang ignored him, Willow
had always made the extra effort to talk to him, include him, show
him that she cared what he thought and what he felt. She always had
something to say to him. She had never given him the silent treatment
before. Was she too busy thinking about Riley to want to talk to him
anymore? No, he decided. If she was busy thinking about that idiot,
she'd be moving slow. Instead, she was going fast. Much faster than
usual. Spike barely restrained a growl. She was in a hurry to get
home to him. Soldier Boy shows up, and all the sudden *he* is the one
helping Willow clean up the cafe and close down for the night. *He*
is the one she wants to spend the rest of the night talking to. Old
Spike isn't good enough anymore. Spike growled. He'd be damned if
he'd let that pathetic sap of a farm boy steal his Willow away. Buffy
may have been Riley's, but Willow was *his* and he would allow
nothing and no one to take her away from him. Spike abruptly dropped
the sulking act. At the rate Willow was moving, their patrol would be
over in ten minutes. If he wanted it to last longer, if he wanted to
keep her with him longer, he'd have to start talking.

"I think I found the gang of vamps responsible for the mess at the
Bronze the other night," Spike blurted out.

It wasn't the most suave opening line he'd ever uttered, but it was
the first thing to pop into his head. He had to say *something* to
break the silence. Besides, it was true. The fledges he had dusted
earlier that evening had bragged to him about how they were taking
over the town, starting with the Bronze. They had gone there the
other night and thrown their weight around a bit. The Scoobies hadn't
been there, but they had heard about it. Willow hadn't been
particularly concerned; they had sounded too amateurish to be any
real threat; but she had wanted to track them down, just in case. On
a Hellmouth, half of the real danger came from idiots messing with
powers they didn't know how to deal with. Stupidity was as dangerous
as true, deliberate evil.

To Spike's relief, Willow immediately took the bait. "How many are
there?" she asked, eagerly. "Any idea where they're camped out? We
could take care of them tonight."

"Already taken care of," Spike answered with a cocky grin, obviously
pleased with himself. Not only had he broken the ice, but the
conversation gave him an opening to prove once again how valuable he
was to the Scooby gang and how well he took care of them and of
Sunnydale. Let Soldier Boy try to measure up to that. "Ran into them
while I was on my way to the cafe. That's what held me up."

Willow hid a small smile of relief. So that was why he had been
late. "So tell me about the fight," she said, forcing her mind to
return to the business at hand. "Were they any kind of challenge?"

Spike noted that she slowed down and directed all her attention at
him. He hid a grin. "A challenge? For me? Not hardly. A bleeding joke
is more like it. Disgrace to demons, they were. You should've seen
them. To start with…" Spike launched into his story, the one he had
been preparing to tell her all evening. It went just as well as he
had hoped. She had grinned outright, one of those dazzling "the hills
are alive" smiles that he loved so much. Her beautiful eyes had lit
up at his story and at his enthusiasm in telling it and for a single,
blissful moment, he thought he was going to finally make her laugh.
She didn't, but she came very close. Spike was ridiculously proud of
himself, which put him in an excellent mood. It lasted all the way
through their patrol and right up until the moment he walked her to
her door.

Then reality intruded.

Spike had almost forgotten that Riley was staying with Willow until
they reached the door of the Summers' house. But when Willow started
digging out the spare key from the nearly invisible crevice in the
front porch railing, he remembered. She had given her keys to Riley.
No sooner did the thought enter Spike's head, then the front door
opened, showing Riley, with a grin on his face.

"Willow! Good, you're finally home. I've been waiting for you."
Riley's voice took on a purr during the last sentence that made
Spike's fangs itch to drop. Riley ignored him and continued to focus
solely on Willow. "Since I had your keys, I didn't know if you needed
me to let you in."

"You didn't have to do that, Riley," Willow answered, confused once
again at how Riley was acting. "I could have used the spare key."

"It wasn't any trouble. You're worth waiting for," Riley replied.
This time the seductive tone in his voice was noticeably absent.
Instead, his voice was soft and sincere. That bothered Spike more
than the flirting. "Besides," he continued, "now we can have that
talk you promised me."

"Alright," Willow answered with a slightly forced smile. "Spike," she
said, turning to face the vampire, "I guess we'll be seeing you
tomorrow night?"

Spike was busy thinking of ways he could torture Riley without
physical contact with him. After all, without physical contact to
cause the pain, it couldn't activate his chip. He had always used his
conversation and ability to berate and belittle his enemies as a type
of weapon against them, but there were other, more creative means, as
well. Chinese water torture. Fire ants. Half-starved leeches poured
on to his more… sensitive areas. Backstreet Boys. So many options, so
little opportunity. Spike knew that Willow would never let him hurt
the boy, but it was still amusing to think about. After all, a demon
has to take his fun where he can find it. Spike sighed. "What was
that, pet? Tomorrow night? Is it a research night?"

"It's the 4th of July," Willow answered softly, hurt that he had
forgotten. "We're going to go to the beach and watch the fireworks.
You promised Dawn that you'd come. She'll be heartbroken if you
don't." <And so will I.> Willow added silently.

"Didn't forget, pet," Spike replied, smiling at her. He remembered
making the promise to Dawn. He'd made it to Willow, too, even though
she didn't mention that part. "Just didn't remember that tomorrow was
the big day. British, you know. Fourth of July doesn't mean beans to
me. But I'll be there. I promised Bit, didn't I?" <And I'd never let
you down.> he added silently.

"Then we'll see you tomorrow. Come by at dusk and we'll head over,
alright?"

"See you then."

Spike walked away, lighting a cigarette as he headed in the direction
of his crypt. Willow's eyes followed him until he turned at the
corner, out of sight. Only then did she follow Riley back into the
house.

"So," she said, forcing a smile onto her face as she turned to face
Riley, "you said you wanted to talk?" She gestured toward the living
room. He followed her in and seated himself next to her on the couch.

"Willow," he said, hesitantly, not sure how to broach the subject, "I
know it's really none of my business. After all, as Dawn was quick to
point out, I walked out on all of you six months ago, but do you mind
if I ask you a very personal question?"

Willow's forehead creased in confusion, but she answered quickly. "Go
ahead and ask. I don't guarantee that I'll answer, but I won't stop
you from asking."

"Alright," Riley replied. "How long have you been in love with Spike?"

Willow turned white, then red, and ducked her face down. "I-I.." she
stammered, reverting back to the shy, easily flustered Willow he
remembered. Then she took a deep breath and pulled herself together.
She wasn't shy Willow anymore. She looked back up at him, still
blushing, but no longer avoiding eye contact and no longer
stammering. She gave him a rueful half smile as she answered.

"A very long time."

Riley grinned at her. "That's not a very good answer."

"It's not an easy question to answer," she retorted.

"How long have I been attracted to him?" she continued. "That's easy
to answer. From the moment I laid eyes on him. Love? Harder to say.
When he first showed up, I snuck into Giles' office and read up on
him."

"Did you like what you saw?" Riley asked.

Willow shrugged. "You've seen the diaries. Terror, bloodshed, etc.,
etc. But I never put much stock in the watchers. For them, everything
is cut and dried. They tell you everything about his actions and
nothing about the motives of the man performing them. I admired his
flamboyance, his passion. They didn't talk much about that. They
referred to Drusilla as his `sometimes paramour.' She was so much
more to him than that. She was the love of his life for over a
century. When he kidnapped me senior year to perform the love spell,
he cried on my shoulder, telling me that he didn't know how to
survive without the woman he loved. Maybe that's when I fell in love
with him. But it's hard to say. We only spent a few hours together
and then he left."

"And then he came back," Riley prompted.

"Yes," Willow replied, with a grin. "He always comes back. So maybe
it happened freshman year when he showed up wanting to kill Buffy and
stayed to comfort me. I went through a pretty dark period after Oz
left. He was the only one who made me feel attractive. I could have
loved him for that. And since he joined the gang, he has saved me and
everyone I care about dozens of times. I still admire his passion and
flamboyance, but now I also admire his devotion and his loyalty.
Maybe I love him for that. Or maybe I love him for the way he loved
Buffy. I know what it's like to love blindly with no hope of return.
I could love him for that. And then, that final night at the tower,
he put everything on the line to save Dawn and keep his promise to
Buffy. I could definitely have loved him for that, if I didn't love
him already. But when Doc knocked him off the tower and I saw him hit
the ground, I felt something in my heart stop. That's when I knew. I
still don't know exactly when it happened, or how, or why, but at
that moment, I knew that I loved him."

"What happened then?" Riley asked gently.

"He disappeared," she whispered. "And it hurt so badly, I had trouble
breathing around the pain. For four days, I didn't know if he was
dust, or on a boat to China, or… anything. But then he came back."
Willow looked up and smiled at Riley. "And maybe I love him because
he always comes back. Dawn was the only one he was willing to be
around, at first."

"What changed?" Riley questioned.

"Dawn forced him to talk to the rest of us. She has him wrapped
around her little finger. He'd do anything for her, so, at her
request, he started talking to the rest of us. And then one night, I
had the closing shift and Dawn was worried about me walking home
alone. She sent Spike after me. When I came out of the cafe that
night and realized he was there, I was so happy; I thought he came to
spend time with me. Then I realized he was just there at Dawn's
orders. But he comes every night I have closing shift and he walks me
home. We talk. He makes me smile. He makes me happy just by being
near me. I fall a little more in love with him every day."

"Now, Mr. Finn," Willow said, focusing her attention once more on the
man beside her. "I've poured out my heart and spilled my secrets, now
it's your turn. What exactly is it that you're planning?"

"Planning?" Riley asked, plastering an innocent expression on his
face.

"Planning," Willow answered, not fooled for a second. "You've been
acting strangely whenever Spike was around all evening. You're up to
something, that's why you wanted to talk to me. So spill."

Riley shook his head for a moment in disbelief. What was it about
these Sunnydale women? How did they always manage to see right
through him? He was an undercover operative, for heavens sake. He was
supposed to be good at hiding his agenda. What is a Hellmouth thing
that made them so good at uncovering his secrets? He shrugged to
himself. It didn't matter. He had planned to tell her anyway.

"Alright, Willow," he answered. "Here's my plan…"

~Part: 7~

Riley was a methodical man. He faced every situation with a carefully
rehearsed plan of action. To that end, Riley had spent the time
Willow patrolled with Spike mentally outlining exactly how he would
explain his plan to Willow. (He even considered making a chart, but
decided against it. He didn't know where to find chart paper in the
house.) First, he would get her to admit that she loved Spike. Then
he would tell her that Spike had, without realizing it, fallen in
love with her, as well. After that, he'd explain how he had
discovered the perfect way to make Spike admit his feelings. Then,
they would work together to figure out the best ways to provoke the
vampire. Once the plans were firmly settled, they'd say goodnight,
and get a good night's sleep so that they'd be ready to start their
planned program the next day. To Riley's relief, the first part went
exceptionally smoothly. He was pleasantly surprised that Willow was
willing to admit her feelings so easily. But they hit a slight snag
on the next part. Willow flatly refused to believe that Spike,
consciously or otherwise, had fallen in love with her.

Riley had been talking to Willow for nearly two hours and, from what
he had said, Willow had reached one overriding conclusion: Riley was
crazy. Totally, completely, beyond-a-shadow-of-a-doubt crazy. That
was the only plausible explanation. That was the only way that the
words coming out of his mouth made any kind of sense. <Poor Riley>
Willow thought, somewhat dazedly as she watched him pace back and
forth across the room, trying to figure out a way to explain this to
her so that she'd believe him. <It's not your fault that you're not
thinking rationally.> Insanity was hardly surprising, given Riley's
way of life.

The stress must have gotten to be too much for him. After all, it
couldn't be an easy life: day in and day out, constantly fighting
monsters that looked like a sci-fi writer's bad dream after a bout of
indigestion. Willow doubted that the military would even notice if
one of their agents went a little crazy, as long as he was still
capable of performing his duties. From her experience with army
types, they were all a little unbalanced. Crazy Riley probably fit
right in.

It could even be post-traumatic stress. Willow certainly didn't lose
any sleep over blowing the Initiative to kingdom come. Those bastards
had trapped Oz, chipped Spike, tried to kill Buffy, and built ADAM
who wanted to kill and rebuild them all into creepy hybrid-type
things, like him. But the Initiative had also been Riley's home and
family for his first few years in Sunnydale, and destroying it had to
have been harder on him than he was willing to show. He had always
bottled up his feelings, not wanting to look weak in front of Buffy.
Maybe they were bursting out, now.

Or maybe one of the demons had infected him. Lots of them were able
to damage people by touching them, or bleeding on them, or even
sneezing on them. (Willow knew that the mucus from a Rognlie demon
could induce insanity in unprotected humans if it made contact with
bare skin. Had Riley spent any time hanging around with Rognlie
demons with sinus infections?)

There was even the possibility that it was genetic. Buffy and Riley
had dated for a year and a half, but none of the Scoobies, not even
Buffy, had ever met Riley's parents. The whole rest of the Finn
family could be comfortably housed in their own personal loony bin in
Nowheresville, Iowa, eating crayons and wearing old shoes as hats
like Xander's Aunt Elsie in the assisted living center in the next
town over, for all that Willow knew.

It had to be something like that. It had to be stress or grief or
creepy demons or bad genetics or even some kind of horribly twisted
sick joke that made Riley say that Spike was in love with her. It
couldn't actually be true.

Could it?

Riley had seemed so sure. They had talked about it for hours. Willow
had argued against it by describing the way that Spike was around
Drusilla and then, later, around Buffy. She talked about the way that
he worshipped Drusilla, defying his own nature and making a deal with
the slayer so that he could keep her as his own. She detailed the way
that Spike tried to reform himself for Buffy, giving up anything and
everything that he had or that he was to try to be the kind of man
that she could love. He was, by nature, passionate and impulsive, and
his love came with no holds barred. Spike would turn himself inside
out, tear himself apart and put himself back together for the object
of his affection. That was simply what Spike was like when he was in
love. He had shown no signs of acting like that over her.

Riley had countered by describing every single look that had crossed
Spike's face when he looked at Willow. He detailed the
possessiveness, the jealousy, the fierce protectiveness, (Willow
tried to interrupt and clarify to Riley that Spike had explained this
to her, and that the demon was possessive and protective toward
anyone it saw as family in a purely platonic way, but Riley ignored
her and continued), the affection, the desire, the lust… and most of
all, the sheer desperation verging on panic at the thought that
anyone might take her away from him.

Willow wanted to believe him. In her entire life, she had never
wanted anything more than she wanted to believe him. But the
explanation that Riley had simply gone crazy was easier to believe.
Willow was terrified of getting her hopes up. She refused to let
herself believe that Spike might love her, because if she thought
that he might and then found out that he didn't, it would destroy
her. Riley could swear up and down on a stack of bibles that Spike
loved her, but unless Willow had some kind of proof that it was true,
she loved him too much to risk her heart being broken.

Riley could see that Willow wasn't convinced. So he threw his mental
outline out the window and tried a different tack.

"Okay, this was my plan," he said, cutting her off as she tried to
explain, yet again, that Spike was still in love with Buffy. "Spike
hates me."

"Yes," Willow agreed, obediently. "You had Buffy and he didn't, so—"

"I won't discuss *why* Spike hates me, because we won't agree. But we
can both agree that he does, for whatever reason, hate me. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Willow nodded.

"And he cares about you. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"So if you and I pretended that we were interested in each other, it
would bother him. Agreed?"

Silence.

"Agreed?" Riley tried again.

"Pretend to be interested in each other?"

"Yes."

"So that's why you were—"

"Yeah."

"And you think that that's why he—"

"Yeah."

"So it wasn't about—"

"Nope."

"Huh."

"Willow, please at least think about it. What do you have to lose?
I'm convinced that the thought of losing you to me would force him to
admit, to you and to himself, exactly how much he cares about you.
And even if it doesn't work, what have you lost? I won't be sticking
around forever. I'll leave, and you and Spike will have your
friendship back. And at least—"

"At least I'll know?"

"Know?"

"That he'll never love me back."

"Yeah."

There was a long pause.

"Alright," Willow agreed, still looking down and speaking so softly
that Riley almost didn't hear her. He watched her take a deep breath
and then look up. She was staring him straight in the eye when she
spoke again. "Alright. I'll do it."

"Great!"

"So, um, what do I need to do?"

Riley eagerly resurrected his mental outline and opened his mouth to
explain all the plans he had formulated and all the steps they would
take, when he saw Willow yawn. He took a minute to really look at
her. There were slight smudges of dust and dirt on her clothes and
her skin, testimony to her earlier patrol with Spike. She held her
body slightly rigid and her eyes wide open, the way people do when
they're forcing themselves not to fall asleep. He saw her cast a
brief look of longing at the staircase, as if all she wanted in the
world was a hot shower and a good night's sleep. <Which is probably
true> Riley reflected. His eager expression softened.

"You've had a long day," he said. "Why don't you get some sleep and
we can talk about it in the morning?"

Willow gave him a grateful smile as she stood, stretching. "Thanks,
Riley." She walked over to where he stood and slid her arms around
his waist, pulling him into a hug. She rested her cheek against his
chest. "I'm glad you're here," she whispered. "Even though I do think
you're crazy."

Riley chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her, gently, holding her
close against him. He planted a soft kiss on top of her head. Her
hair was soft and warm and smelled like raspberries. He nuzzled his
cheek against it, briefly, and thought about how nice it felt to hold
someone like that again. "I'm glad I'm here, too," he whispered.

Her arms tightened around his waist for a moment before she released
him. "Good night, Riley," she said, smiling back at him as she headed
up the stairs.

"Good night, Willow," he answered. His eyes followed her until she
reached the top of the stairs and disappeared from his sight.

~Part: 8~

Riley didn't expect to sleep. Ever since he joined the Initiative and
discovered what truly went bump in the night, he had suffered from
insomnia. Nothing he tried seemed to help. And that night, of all
nights, he expected to toss and turn for hours. Since Dawn kept her
own room and Willow had taken over Joyce's room, the only bed they
had left for Riley was in Buffy's old room. How could he expect to
sleep in Buffy's old bed? They'd made love in that bed too many times
to count, and he'd spent hours holding her, kissing her, touching
her, whispering in her ear over and over again that he loved her and
that he'd never leave her… and he lied. He had left. He had left her
and she had died. He expected the memories to haunt him throughout
the night, the way they had every night since he heard that she had
died.

But they didn't.

For some reason, coming back to Sunnydale allowed him to set his
ghosts to rest.  Hearing Buffy's story had helped. It served to
remind him that she was the slayer and, as such, had a destiny that
he simply wasn't a part of that she needed to fulfill. The plans for
the future that they pretended to make were never anything more than
a dream. He knew that now. And it helped to hear that Buffy had
forgiven him. In his talk with Willow, she told him that Buffy came
to understand why he left, and that she knew he made the right
decision. Willow also said that she, herself, forgave him, as well.
That helped, too. What helped most of all was realizing that he
wasn't in love with Buffy anymore. He would always care about her and
he would never forget her, or the way she changed his life, but she
wasn't the center of his world anymore. She had died, and his life
went on. It was best that way. The nightmares of haunting memories
that Riley expected never came. For the first night in a very long
time, he slept like a baby.

In fact, he slept in the next morning. He was shocked to open his
eyes and see sunlight streaming through the all-too-familiar
curtains. Riley stayed in bed for another couple of minutes,
luxuriating in the fact that he *could* before he finally dragged
himself up. The other rooms upstairs were empty, showing him that
Dawn and Willow were already awake. After splashing some cold water
on his face, he felt awake enough to join them downstairs. He headed
into the kitchen, following the sound of voices. He found Willow at
the stove, making French toast, while Dawn set the table. Both girls
looked up when he walked in, and Willow smiled at him. The thought
popped into his head that Willow looked beautiful first thing in the
morning, especially when she was standing in the sunlight from the
window like that. He forced the thought away when he realized that
Dawn was trying to ask him something.

"Sugar, syrup, both or neither?" Dawn asked.

"Huh?"

"On your French toast, do you like powdered sugar, maple syrup, both,
or neither? Because Willow likes the sugar and I like the syrup so
when I set the table I put the syrup next to me and the sugar next to
her but if you're going to be eating with us, too, then I need to
know whether I need to put the sugar between you and Willow or the
syrup between you and me, or both or neither, because Xander likes
both and Anya likes neither, so I've worked out how to set the table
when they join us but I don't know how to set the table for you."

"You've given this way too much thought," Riley replied.

"Yes, I have, and you still haven't answered my question."

"Sugar," Riley answered. "I like French toast with powdered sugar."

"Finally, an answer," Dawn mumbled as she continued to set the table.

Willow smiled at Riley again as she walked over to him and handed him
a cup of coffee. "Drink this," she ordered, in sotto-voice. "It will
keep her from cross-examining you about what you'd like to drink.
Besides, it's always a good idea to have some coffee before you get
pulled into Dawn-discussions first thing in the morning." Riley
smiled and sipped the coffee gratefully. "Now have a seat and tell me
if you slept well," Willow continued, returning to her pan of French
toast.

"Yes, Mom, I slept very well."

"Do you have any plans for today?"

"I thought I'd take a jog around town, maybe stop by campus and
reminisce."

"Sounds nice," Willow replied, bringing him a plate of steaming
French toast and pushing the powdered sugar toward him before
returning to the stove to serve out the portions for Dawn and
herself. "Would you like some company? You could tell me about all
your *plans* for this visit to Sunnydale."

Riley grinned. "Good idea." He had wondered how he'd be able to talk
to Willow about the plan without Dawn overhearing. If there was one
thing he remembered about Dawn, it was that the girl had an absolute
talent for overhearing things she wasn't supposed to know about. And
he didn't want her to know about the plan. He had a feeling Dawn
wouldn't approve. The girl adored Spike and was still angry with
Riley. Any plan that made Riley happy while making Spike miserable
would be unlikely to win her approval. Besides, she'd probably tell
Spike. It was best if she didn't know. A jog would be the perfect
opportunity for him and Willow to talk things out without any
possibility of eavesdropping. Willow winked at him as she seated
herself at the table, then turned to question Dawn about her plans
for the day.

After they finished breakfast and cleaned up the dishes, Willow and
Riley headed out for their jog.

"So," Willow began, as they settled into a steady pace, "let's hear
this great master plan of yours."

"Well, you already know the basics. I pretend to be interested in
you, and you pretend to be interested in me, and Spike is forced to
tell you that he wants you for himself. We're already part way there.
Spike already thinks that I'm after you."

"You're sure he doesn't just think you've gone crazy? That was, after
all, my first thought when I noticed how you were acting."

Riley laughed. "Trust me, Willow. He doesn't think I'm crazy. He
thinks I'm competition."

"Competition?" Willow made a face. "You make me sound like a horse
race." Riley laughed out loud. He couldn't help himself. He had
always loved the way that Willow's mind worked.

"You're not the race, Willow, you're the prize," Riley teased. "Spike
and I are the ones chasing after you to win you in the end."

"Oh, right, because that makes it so much better. I'm not a horse
race, I'm just a really big silver cup that they give you if you get
to the finish line first. Big, shiny, empty, and useless. A literal
trophy wife. Wonderful. Just what I always wanted to be. My ultra-
feminist mother will be so proud."

"What is it they call that? A loving cup? Hey, it's kind of
appropriate."

"Changing the subject," Willow announced. "So since you laid the
groundwork last night, what is it that I have to do, today?"

"Can you trump up some kind of excuse for us to stop by Spike's crypt
on our way home?"

"Sure. There's a book I loaned him that I need back. I was already
planning to ask him about it tonight."

"Good. So we'll go to the crypt, and then here's what we'll do…"

~Part: 9~

It wasn't until several hours later that they arrived at the
cemetery. As planned, Riley had gone by campus and wandered around.
He had had a great time reminiscing with Willow. The drastically bad
memories of the end of the Initiative had clouded his recollection of
the school, and he had forgotten how many nice, simple, happy
memories he had of the campus, and of his friends. They had even run
into some professors he had known. After that, he and Willow had
headed downtown, and he bought her lunch at a little sandwich shop he
had always loved when he was a student. The owner there still knew
him by name, and by sandwich preference. They had had a wonderful
time, rehashing old memories and catching up on new ones. And now
they were on their way to torment Spike. In Riley's opinion, this was
the icing on the cake.

Spike heard the laughter first, as they approached his crypt.
Masculine, baritone laughter with a sort of mama's-boy, aw-shucks-
ma'am, Iowa-hick, I'm-a-bleeding-moron-who-laughs-like-a-damned-hyena
twang to it. At least, that's what it sounded like to him. There was,
of course, a chance that he was biased. Maybe. Possibly. Because
seconds after he heard the laughter, he inhaled the scent coming
through the ventilation shafts, and smelled Riley, and Willow. Just
the two of them. Wandering around Sunnydale together, in the
sunlight, while Willow made Riley laugh. Just the thought left a
bitter taste in Spike's mouth and might have been the reason why he
found Riley's laughter so annoying. Maybe. Possibly.

Spike took his time answering the door. Usually when Willow came to
visit, she didn't even have to knock. Spike would smell her coming
and would have the door open for her by the time she reached it. But
usually she didn't have soldier boy with her, and Spike saw no reason
to hurry to the door so that he could watch that overgrown moron come
on to *his* Willow. He opened the door reluctantly, his scowl growing
when he saw the happy expression on Willow's face. It wasn't fair.
Willow was *his* best friend. *He* was the one who had spent all the
time with her, talking with her, patrolling with her, taking care of
Dawn and fixing up the house. *He* was the one who was supposed to
know her best. Riley shouldn't have been able to make her look that
happy. The only thought that gave him any comfort was that Riley
would be leaving soon. Once he was gone, things would go back to
normal.

Spike didn't step away from the doorway, deliberately making it as
difficult for Riley to come in as possible. Willow, ignoring Spike's
stubborn display, stepped immediately around him and into the crypt.
Riley smirked at Spike and then followed Willow in. Spike growled
quietly, and shut the door behind them.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Spike asked, putting as much sarcasm
into his tone as he could muster.

"I need back the Walker Encyclopedia," Willow answered, intentionally
ignoring the sarcasm. "You still have it, right?"

"Yeah, it's with the Willow-library."

"Willow-library?" Riley asked.

"Yeah," Willow answered with a smile. "The library that I got for
Spike."

When Willow had started loaning Spike books back at the beginning of
their friendship, she had been appalled to see that he stored them in
one of the crypt's caskets. When he told her that he didn't have
anywhere else to put them, she had surprised him by setting up a
bookcase in his crypt one night when he was on patrol. Since then,
she had steadily been filling it with books. When he protested
against her spending money on him, both for the bookcase and for the
books, themselves, she had said that building Spike's library was her
way of treating herself. It was a healthier indulgence than chocolate
and safer than coffee, she had insisted. Besides, Sunnydale had a
great used bookstore with an enormous selection and very low prices.
The town's high death rates meant that there were an abundance of
stores for used goods. It was Sunnydale's leading market, next to
funeral homes.

Spike loved that bookcase, and every volume in it. Willow had
handpicked all of it, giving freely of her time and her money and her
already overstrained energy solely to please him. Every time he
looked at it, it reminded him of her, and the lengths that she went
to in order to make him happy. His "Willow-library," as he called it,
was the nicest thing anyone had done for him in the entire length of
his existence. He treasured it and treasured her, for doing it, in a
way that had absolutely nothing to do with his demon and its crush on
Willow's power. When he pored over the volumes (particularly the ones
that came from her personal library, with her notes in the margins
and her favorite sections underlined), the shreds that remained of
the man in him, William the Bloody Awful Poet, recognized a kindred
spirit, and he loved her for it, even if he wouldn't admit it.

Following Willow, Riley stepped over to the bookcase and started
admiring the selection, discussing the range of books Willow had
provided. Spike interrupted. Chatting about literature with the bane
of his existence was not how he wanted to spend what remained of the
afternoon.

"So if all you wanted was to grab the book, why'd you need to bring
him along?" Spike asked. "Or is this a farewell visit? So long,
soldier, thanks for dropping by. Don't let the hellmouth hit you on
your way back out of town."

"I brought him along because we were out together wandering around
town when I remembered that I needed it back," Willow answered. "And
it's not a farewell visit. Riley might even be sticking around on a
semi-permanent basis."

Spike was so shocked by this news that he forgot to be
sarcastic. "What?" was all he could manage to say.

"That's right," Riley answered as his smirk grew wider. "I ran into
an old psychology professor of mine when we visited campus this
morning. He needs a research assistant, and asked if I would be
willing to come on board. He said that if I could T.A. some of his
classes as well, then I could probably get the school to cover the
expenses so I could get my masters." This, as it happens, was true.
An old professor of his *had* offered him a job. He and Willow had
talked about it over lunch, discussing what it would be like if he
took the job and stayed in town, but he hadn't seriously considered
it. There was, however, no reason for Spike to know that.

"You're staying?" Spike asked, still dumbfounded.

"I have lots of reasons to stay," Riley answered, reaching out to
take Willow's hand. She blushed, but didn't pull away. Spike was
overwhelmed by a horrible, sinking feeling. The pain of it blocked
out everything else. He barely heard Riley and Willow saying goodbye
and telling him that they'd see him at the fireworks that night. He
didn't even register the sound of the door closing behind them,
signaling that he was alone again. The only thing he was aware of was
the thought that ran through his head (over and over, unendingly)
that he had lost her. Riley had practically had it sky-written that
he planned to make Willow his. And now, Willow was encouraging him.
She was the one perfect thing in Spike's life, and she was about to
belong to someone else. The shock and pain he felt at the thought of
it drove him to a stunning realization.

He loved Willow.

It wasn't just admiration or gratitude or friendship or a crush
coming solely from his demon side. He loved her. Totally and
completely, mind, body, heart, and demon. He liked her and enjoyed
her and appreciated her and wanted her (God, how he wanted her) and
needed her and craved her and idolized and adored her. In comparison
to what he felt for her, his feelings for Cecily proved to be
pointless infatuation, while his feelings for Dru were naïve,
unmerited subservience, and his feelings for Buffy were clinging
desperation. He could honestly say that Willow was the first person
he had ever loved. After all, she was the first person he could ever
remember who truly made him happy. When he realized this, he wanted
to run out after her, grab her, tell her how he felt, get down on his
knees and beg her to give him a chance to show her how devotedly he
intended to worship her for the rest of eternity. But two things
stopped him.

One, it was still daylight.

Two, he had already lost.

Riley, as always, (damn him) had been quicker to spot the target. He
had wasted no time in making his intentions toward Willow
unmistakably clear. And Willow had not seemed to mind. Spike winced
as he remembered the way that Willow blushed at Riley's touch. No,
she hadn't seemed to mind at all. Spike didn't know whether to laugh
or cry. There was a sick kind of irony to it. Riley had come back to
town to mourn Buffy, but had gotten over his love for her in time to
fall in love with Willow. And Spike, meanwhile, had been too
determined to cling to his love for Buffy to realize that he had been
falling in love with Willow all along. They had gotten over the same
woman to fall in love with the same woman, pretty much at the same
time. But Riley, as always, had gotten there first. It wasn't until
he realized that Riley was attempting to fill the emptiness in
Willow's life that Spike realized how very much he wanted to be her
everything, the way that she was his everything.

Too late. For Cecily, he had been too poor. For Dru, he had been too
weak. For Buffy, he had been too demonic. And for Willow, he was
simply too late. He wished he had a bottle of scotch that he could
use to drown his despair, but Willow had taken all of his alcohol
away. She kept it for him in one of the kitchen cabinets in the
house, with a cloaking spell over it so that the human services
people wouldn't see it when they did inspections. She said he was
free to drink it whenever he wanted, but that it was unhealthy to
drink alone. If he wanted a drink, he'd have to come by the house and
ask her for it, so she could join him, and stay with him, and make
sure that he wasn't alone in whatever pain it was that drove him to
drink. The one time he had taken her up on her offer, she had been as
good as her word. She had freely handed him the bottle, and then sat
down next to him, holding his hand while he drank, and cried. Who
would hold his hand when he cried over Willow? He had grown so
accustomed to turning to her for comfort that when he needed comfort
for his feelings for her, he had no one else to turn to.

Spike seated himself on his bed and unlaced his boots. The cold
certainty that he would lose his Willow seemed to drain him of all
his energy. He'd try to get a few hours sleep, and then he'd go and
meet the gang for the fireworks. He knew what those occasions were
like: couples would make out on blankets on the beach or in the
backseats of cars. If Willow and Riley were together, that was when
they would show it. He closed his eyes, dreading the moment when he
would have to open them again and go to watch his love as she fell in
love with someone else.

~Part: 10~

As soon as the sun was safety down, Spike joined the group at the
beach. The gang had gotten there about an hour before, so that they
would be able to get a good spot near the water with plenty of room
for all of them. Once they had staked their claim to their chosen
area with blankets and baskets and radios, they had, at Xander's
insistence, immediately begun dinner. They were still eating when
Spike arrived. Everyone greeted him cheerfully, but Spike barely
responded, seating himself quietly on one of the blankets slightly
separate from the others, in a position where he had a good view of
Willow. At first, everyone tried to talk to him and include him in
their conversations, but he kept his responses monosyllabic, and
eventually they stopped trying. He stayed still and silent in his
spot, and his eyes never strayed off of Willow.

After they finished dinner, they started in on the s'mores. Dawn
scrounged up some sticks for everyone to use while Xander and Riley
built a fire and Willow passed out the graham crackers, chocolate,
and marshmallows. As they settled themselves around the fire, the
gang started to pair off. Anya and Xander snuggled under a blanket
and started whispering plans about their wedding. Giles wandered off
to talk to the very pretty librarian from Sunnydale's public library
who was seated a few blankets over. Dawn giggled over to the side
with Janice. Riley pulled Willow into his arms and relaxed into the
moment. Spike pretended to want another marshmallow and went over to
seat himself next to Willow and Riley. As much as it hurt to see the
two of them together, he wasn't planning on leaving that night until
he knew for certain that he had no chance with Willow. Not
surprisingly, he opened the conversation by trying to annoy Riley.

"So you're actually planning on sticking around this time, soldier
boy?" he asked snidely, keeping his voice low so that he wouldn't
draw the attention of the rest of the group. "Or is that just your
line until the next time you decide to turn tail and run?"

Riley refused to be so easily baited. "No, I'll be sticking around."
He smiled down at Willow. "Someone has to keep Willow company."

"Don't see that Willow's been suffering for company so far," Spike
retorted.

Riley replied before Willow had a chance. "Yeah, I know she has the
group, but Xander and Anya are busy wrapped up in each other and
their wedding plans, Dawn's busy being a teenager, and Giles is a
father figure, not a companion."

"She has me," Spike growled.

"But she won't need you anymore," Riley stated smugly, tightening his
arm around Willow. "She'll have me."

That was the final straw. Spike felt the last bit of hope drain out
of him. He had been replaced. His Willow, his love, his reason for
unliving from one day to the next, had discarded him. Spike couldn't
take anymore. He stood, throwing down his marshmallow stick into the
sand. "I need a smoke," he mumbled before rushing away, cursing
himself for the tears that were building in his eyes that he prayed
no one had seen.

His prayer wasn't answered.

Willow felt a piece of her heart break when she saw the tears Spike
was trying so desperately to hide. She had caused that. She had done
that to the man she loved most in the world. At that moment, she
decided that the game was over. Her heart simply couldn't handle it
anymore. Abruptly, she stood as well, determined to rush after him,
ask his forgiveness for hurting him so badly, and tell him over and
over again how sorry she was that she ever caused him even a moment's
pain. The small campfires scattered around the shore made it
difficult to see through the shadows where Spike had disappeared, so
she moved quickly, hoping to catch him. In fact, she moved so quickly
that she was several steps away before Riley was able to stand to
follow her. She was quite a distance away from their blanket before
he managed to stop her. He grabbed her arm, hoping that she would
turn around and tell him what was bothering her, but he didn't get
quite the response he was expecting.

She yanked away from his touch as if it burned her. "Don't you dare
stop me, Riley," she said. "I have to find him. I have to talk to
him. I have to make him understand."

"What are you talking about?" Riley asked, genuinely confused. "Make
him understand what? If the plan is going to work then he's going to
have to believe—"

"I don't want the plan to work!" Willow exclaimed.

There was a long pause as Riley processed this new bit of information.

"You don't?"

"No! Not anymore."

"But… why?"

"It's… it's hurting him, Riley. I've never seen Spike hurt like this
before. I can't do this anymore. I can't hurt him like that."

"Willow, don't—"

"Don't what?" Willow hissed, turning to face him, her anger clearly
visible on her face even in the dim lighting. "Don't care that my
friend is hurting and that it's my fault? Don't go after him and
apologize for playing with his emotions like this? Don't beg his
forgiveness for treating him like some kind of pawn? What exactly is
it that you don't want me to do?

"But it's going so well, Willow. This is what we wan—"

"No! Don't say that! Don't even *think* that! This isn't what I
wanted." Some of the anger went out of Willow's face and was swiftly
replaced by pain. "I never wanted to hurt him like this. Ever. I-I
love him so much, and he's hurting and it's my fault. I can't do this
anymore. I don't know whether or not it's affecting his heart, but
it's certainly breaking mine."

"But Willow, if we just stick with the plan—"

"Screw the plan!" Willow hissed between clenched teeth. "This is
Sunnydale. The hellmouth, itself. Plans never work out here, don't
you remember? No, Riley. No more games. No more plans. No more lying
to the people that I care about. This charade is over." Willow turned
away again, assuming that the conversation was over, and headed off
to find Spike.

"Why does it have to be a charade?"

Willow stopped dead in her tracks.

"What did you say?" she whispered.

"Why does it have to be a charade, Willow?" Riley whispered, stepping
close to her. "Why does it have to be a lie?" He reached out
hesitantly to touch her, but lost his nerve and dropped his hand
before it made contact. This was too important to risk scaring her
away. He needed to say this.

"It could be true. It could be real. I could take that position at
the university and see you there every day. We could have lunch
together, just like today. And I could go with you on patrol, and
help Dawn with her homework, and help you make dinner and take you to
the movies. And we could spend time together, and be there for each
other, and make each other happy." Riley's voice dropped to the
barest whisper. "I could make you happy, Willow. I could— I could
love you. I know I could. It would be… so very easy to love you."

Willow turned slowly and raised her eyes to meet his. "W-what about
the plan?" she asked, attempting to smile.

"Screw the plan," Riley answered, smiling back at her, hopefully.
This time he managed to muster the courage to reach out and stroke
her impossibly soft hair, brushing it back from her face. "This is
Sunnydale. Plans are just a waste of time, here."

"Riley, I—"

"Shh," Riley said, moving his hand to stroke gently over her lips. "I
don't expect you to tell me that you're in love with me. It's too
soon; this is too unexpected. I know that. All I want is for you to
tell me that you'll give me a chance to be something other than a
charade. Can you give me that chance, Willow?"

"I can't," Willow whispered. "I'm so sorry, Riley, I wish that I
could, but I just can't." Riley's face fell, and his hand dropped
away from her face. She grabbed it as it descended, holding it
tightly in hers, not letting him go just yet.

"I do care about you. You know I do. But I love Spike. Remember the
first night you were here, you asked me how long I've loved him and I
said I didn't know?" Riley nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "I
think I know the answer, now. I think I've loved him all along. And
I'm pretty sure that I always will."

"Tell him," Riley stated, quietly. "Find him right now, and tell him.
You're right; no more games, no more charades, no more lying. Tell
him the truth."

Willow looked away, suddenly nervous again. "I'm afraid of what he'll
say," she replied.

"He'll say that he loves you," Riley answered, smiling again, in
spite of himself. He couldn't believe that after all that had
happened, Willow could have any doubt of how Spike felt about her.

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Now, go." Willow smiled in response and then slid her
arms around Riley's waist and wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you for being my friend," she whispered.

Riley wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss on top of her
head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. "I'll always be your
friend, Willow. Now stop stalling and go." Willow squeezed closer for
a moment, and then released him, heading off to follow his
instructions.

"Oh, and Willow?" Riley called out when she had gotten a few feet
away. Willow turned to look at him expectantly. "Do me a favor and
tell him that if he hurts you, I'll beat him to death with a shovel."

"Beat him to death with a shovel?" Willow repeated with a grin. "What
a gruesome idea. What kind of horrible person would come up with
something like that?"

"A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend," Riley replied. Willow blew
him a kiss, and then disappeared into the darkness.

Riley smiled as he watched her go. Every plan he had made for
Sunnydale had fallen apart. Willow was right. Plans never seemed to
work out on the hellmouth. Riley decided that he sort of liked it
that way. He almost dreaded the thought of returning to his army
world of strict discipline and regimentation. He looked back toward
the group gathered around the fire. Anya and Xander were snuggled
together under their blanket. Dawn was sneaking back to the fire,
trying to act as though she had never wandered away in the first
place. (Riley wondered briefly where she had wandered off to, and how
she always managed to do that without anyone noticing, but he soon
pushed the thought away. That was just the way that Dawn was.) Giles
looked over all of them with a fatherly smile.

Riley couldn't believe the way they had taken him in again,
especially after the way he had left, before. Xander and Anya
accepted him almost immediately, making every effort to make him feel
like part of the group. Giles had made a point of pulling him aside
to let him know how glad they all were to see that he was safe, and
to tell him how good it was to see him again. Even Dawn was smiling
at him again. And Willow, out searching for her vampire, showed
potential for becoming the best friend he had ever had. These people
were the closest thing to a family that Riley had ever found. They
understood his life in a way that his demonology-oblivious parents
never could, and they understood his heart in a way that his army
friends had never attempted. He had always clung to Buffy as his
reason for spending time with them and had never stopped to
appreciate how much the rest of them meant to him.

The job at the university still sounded tempting. And he still had
Willow's offer to use Buffy's room for as long as he wanted. He could
stick around for Xander and Anya's wedding, just to give it a try,
and see how things went. Riley couldn't help laughing at himself.
Before he came to Sunnydale, he had known exactly what he was going
to do with his life for the next thirty years. Everything had been
planned. But after a day and a half in Sunnydale, he was throwing all
of his plans out the window. The old plans didn't work for him
anymore. He was ready to start again.

With something new.

~Part: 11~

Meanwhile, Willow was stumbling around in the darkness, thinking to
herself that she needed to find a spell to give herself night vision,
and hoping that she found Spike before she got herself hopelessly
lost. Fortunately, she didn't have to go far.

When Spike had stormed away from the group, Willow wasn't the only
one who noticed the beginnings of tears in his eyes. Dawn had
immediately gotten up and gone after the vampire. And since no one
stopped her the way that Riley stopped Willow, she was the one who
found him first. He was in the parking lot, noisily kicking around an
abandoned soda can and taking a sour sort of satisfaction in knowing
that he was bothering all the couples that were necking in the
backseats of the parking lots' cars. He was miserable, why should
they be happy?

"It's not the can's fault, you know," he heard Dawn say from behind
him.

"Yeah, but kicking the crap out of the can won't give me a migraine,"
he responded without turning around and without stopping.

"Good point," Dawn answered, seating herself on the hood of one of
the empty cars. "So what name have you given the can?"

"Riley," Spike hissed through clenched teeth, slamming his foot down
on the can and crushing it underneath his boot.

"Because he has Willow?"

"Yes… Wait, what?"

"You just realized that you're in love with Willow and now you're
jealous because she and Riley are acting all couply, right?"

Spike finally turned around. "How did you know that I was in love
with Willow?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "It's totally obvious. I've known for weeks.
Anya knows, too. I think even Giles has figured it out. Xander's
still clueless, though."

"You mean everybody already knows?"

"Yup."

"Wish you'd have let me in on it."

"Would you have believed me?"

"Well… no."

"Well, there you have it."

Spike reared back and kicked the can with all of his strength. It
soared through the air and disappeared into the darkness. Spike
watched it for as long as he could, then sighed and turned away, and
seated himself next to Dawn on the hood of the car.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Dawn prompted.

Spike shrugged. "What can I do about it? She's made her choice. You
said it yourself; she and Riley are acting all `couply.' If he's what
she wants, how can I interfere?"

Dawn resisted the urge to slug him. "How can she know what she wants
if she doesn't know that the one that she really wants actually wants
her back?"

Spike looked at her for a minute, trying to process that, and then
gave up. "Okay, that didn't make any sense. Start over."

"Willow's in love with you. Is that clear enough? She has been for
ages. Even *Xander* picked up on that one."

Spike still looked confused. "But she and Riley—"

"And about that," Dawn interrupted, "I'm not even sure that she and
Riley are really, you know, *she and Riley.* There's something up
with that. I think it might be an act."

"Why would they pretend to be together?"

"Oh gee, I don't know, maybe to make you *jealous*!"

Spike's eyes widened in shock, and for the first time in over a
century, he stammered. "W-where would you get that idea?"

Dawn raised an eyebrow, a trick she had learned from Spike. "I pay
attention," she answered coolly.

Spike felt like he was coming back to life. Ever since he had
realized that he loved Willow, he had been in despair, convinced that
he had lost any chance he might have had of winning her. Now, for the
first time, he began to hope.

"But how can I find out? It's not like I can just walk up to her and
say `Stop pulling my leg and admit that you love me.'"

"No," Dawn agreed, "but you can do what I always do."

"And what's that?"

"This!" Dawn exclaimed, grabbing his hand and dragging him off the
hood of the car. Obediently, Spike followed as Dawn led him in the
direction she had seen Willow head, followed by Riley. "Keep your
mouth shut," she whispered to Spike.

"Eavesdropping?" Spike asked as they crept up on the oblivious
pair. "This is your master plan?"

"It's always worked in the past," Dawn answered. "Now shut up and
listen."

Spike obeyed. It was difficult for him. He wanted to jump up and
start dancing and singing when he heard Willow say that she loved
him, but he managed to contain himself. Dawn snuck away after a
minute, but Spike stayed till the end. When Willow walked away to
find him, he smiled, and stood.

His night vision was considerably better than hers, so he didn't have
much difficulty maneuvering their positions so that she walked
directly into his arms.

"Spike!" she squealed, her voice heavy with relief. "I'm so glad I
found you! I wanted to apologize for what Riley did, and really, for
what I did, since I was sitting right there and I didn't stop him so
that makes it my fault, too, and I'm so sorry that I hurt you like
that and I—" Spike smiled as he listened to her. He loved her
babbling. But as adorable as it was, he was even more anxious to put
both of them out of their misery. Cupping her face in his hands, he
held it still as he swiftly lowered his mouth on top of hers.

Willow was too shocked by this sudden turn of events to react
immediately, and Spike took immediately advantage of her still-open
mouth, exploring it gently but thoroughly with his tongue. Willow
caught on eventually and began kissing him back. He moaned when her
tongue began to play with his, deepening the kiss as she moved to
explore his mouth, as well. One of Spike's hands stayed cradling
Willow's face, making absolutely sure that her maddeningly delectable
mouth didn't stray from his, while his other hand slid down around
her waist, pulling her body in against his. They both moaned at the
increased contact and Willow's hands snaked around to Spike's back,
clutching him closer while her hands fisted in the back of his shirt.

Willow, personally, didn't care if she ever breathed again. She was
perfectly happy to suffocate if she could do so by having Spike kiss
her to death. Breathing was overrated. Especially when compared to
kissing. Most especially when compared to kissing Spike. But Spike
had plans for her that did not include her immediate demise, so he
managed to pull himself away before oxygen became a major issue. His
lips couldn't seem to bear to leave her as he trailed an endless
stream of kisses across her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, that
sensitive spot just below her ear. Willow was so caught up in the
sensations that she almost didn't hear the words he whispered in her
ear, in between licking and nibbling her earlobe.

"I love you, Willow," he murmured, over and over. "I love you so
much."

"Spike," she sighed in his ear, when she remembered how to speak
again. "Spike, I love you. I love you."

Spike felt the tears come back. He closed his eyes and buried his
face in her neck, letting the tears out on her soft skin. One of
Willow's arms slid up to the back of his head, stroking his hair
gently as she placed tiny kisses over every available inch of
him. "Say it again," he whispered. Her shoulder muffled his voice,
but she understood him. She always understood him. "I love you,
Spike," she whispered into his ear. "I love you."

Spike's legs seemed to collapse underneath him, and the two of them
sunk to the ground together, without letting go. Willow continued to
kiss and caress him, whispering an endless litany of "I love yous"
into his ear. Once he pulled himself together, he returned the favor,
kissing her, touching her, and telling her over and over again how
very much he loved her. They stayed like that for a long time,
oblivious to the fireworks overhead.

~Epilogue~

The Willow-library is in Willow's room now, next to the bed which
holds Spike wrapped around Willow as often as possible. He's really
getting into the whole "loving someone who loves him back" thing. He
can't seem to keep his hands off of her. She doesn't seem to mind.
Her "hills are alive" smiles are a regular feature now, along with
laughing, giggling, singing, and outright glowing with joy,
especially when she's touching him or he's touching her. Spike is so
happy, it has become a running joke with the Scooby Gang. They say
that they had no idea he was capable of smiling so much. He's even
started writing poetry again, too, though no one knows about that but
Willow. He's still a bloody awful poet, but she loves it. And she
loves him. A lot. And he loves her just as much. And that kind of
helps to smooth everything over.

Dawn is thrilled. She's absolutely devoted to both Spike and Willow
and brags constantly that she was the one who made the match. It
isn't exactly true, but she likes saying it, so no one bothers to
contradict her. They just enjoy seeing her so happy. You should have
seen the celebration when Willow finally got official custody. They
were pulling confetti out of odd places for weeks. Once that was
taken care of, they put the Buffy-bot into retirement. As a group,
they were more than capable of handling patrols. Especially lately.
Now that Spike finally has a family he cares about, hell hath no fury
like Spike when he sees someone as a threat to his loved ones. As a
result, demonic activity has been at an all-time low. However, the
Scoobies refuse to get too optimistic about the possibility of
peaceful lives. After all, the hellmouth has a way of throwing things
at you when you least expect it.

And speaking of unexpected surprises, Anya has been glowing ever
since she and Xander returned from their honeymoon. She thinks she
might be pregnant, but she hasn't told Xander yet. The throwing up
and food cravings, along with her determination to paint the spare
bedroom pink and blue with fluffy white clouds on the ceiling might
have been a clue to most people, but Xander's never been too good at
noticing these things. He is happy, though. They both are. And when
she finally gets around to telling Xander, they'll be happier, still.

They had a beautiful wedding. Willow was best person. Spike was a
groomsman. He and Xander have pretty much put their issues behind
them. Xander can't help but like someone who makes Willow so happy.
Dawn was a bridesmaid. Giles was a groomsman as well, and brought
that pretty librarian as his date. (Things are going quite nicely in
that direction. Giles blushes and stammers whenever she's mentioned,
which is always a good sign.) Riley was there, as well. He took the
position with the professor and moved to Sunnydale, permanently.
Things are going well for him at the university. The professor thinks
very highly of him, and is helping him work his way through his
masters. But Riley has other things on his mind. You see, Riley
brought Amy to Xander and Anya's wedding as his date.

Yes, Amy Madison. Willow deratted her midway through August. She had
some issues at first; after all, it must be tempting to gorge
yourself on human pleasures after spending so much time as a rat, and
the pleasures of dark magic are hard to resist. But Riley helped her
through it. He was lonely once he got an apartment of his own, and
counseling Amy through her problems gave him a much needed
distraction. He hadn't planned for it to go any further than that,
but Riley's plans never do seem to work out, especially when it comes
to those tricky Sunnydale women. They've only been out together a few
times, and Riley's waiting to see how things go. Little does he
realize, Amy has some plans of her own.

Buffy hasn't been forgotten. They all visit her graveside
individually about once a week and keep her updated on what's going
on in their lives. But they've all managed to come to terms with
their pasts and, to be honest, they've all moved on. They're not
slayerettes or sidekicks anymore, they're a fully cohesive team that
works together. The old ways weren't bad, but the new ways seem to
work better. *Much* better, according to Spike, especially when it
comes to sleeping arrangements. Out with the old.

In with the new.

THE END

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