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AUTHOR'S NOTES: All right, this is the last chapter! I hope everybody who read this story and reviewed enjoys the epilogue. I sincerely thank all of you for giving this story your time and attention, thanks so much for taking a chance on it!!! *big hugs!*

And without further delay, I give you chapter 45!
_________________________

Three Months Later

"If I can forgive you, you should be able to forgive yourself."

Of all odd things, the memory made Spike smile. He was washing his hands of bleach and window cleaner in the boy's bathroom, having already changed out of his uniform. His mind wandered easily, from noting the time one minute to remembering conversations.

It was a bit late in the day, but Buffy was staying after hours to have a meeting with a student while he finished his shift. Clem had just left, and the silence all around was not the same closeted enemy Spike used to consider it.

These days, silence was not something he found he needed. Of course it existed. It might slip in before Buffy woke up beside him in their bed. It might come at the end of a long day, a dinner for two, or the time he spent driving alone from one place to another. Silence was not, however, a bad thing, nor was it all he could endure.

The day Buffy said those words had come some time ago. Before they moved in together, when he first took her on a tour of the place that would soon house two people and a cat rather than one lonely man. Her openness surprised him, and Spike thought it might have even surprised her.

However, once the faithful proclamation came out, neither wanted to silence it. Neither wanted its meaning to become anything less than true, to subdue it or pretend it hadn't happened. She wouldn't, and Spike couldn't.

Forgiveness. It was no longer a foreign concept. It had gotten its time in the sun, growing between their reconciliation in a cemetery, to the first pronouncement of solid trust.

That was why the memory made him smile.

Spike looked at the mirror above the sink, reaching for a towel. He dried his hands blindly before tossing the paper into an empty trashcan. His reflection stared back, eyes clear and bright. There were no bags underneath them and no smudges from old black liner. He thought he looked a bit younger these days, which was ironic. Being with Buffy made him feel as if he couldn't age a day.

But the days did pass. The snow melted, ice broke and sunshine dominated the sky once again. Spring was bleeding into every crevice of the house, into every night spent sharing whispers and bodies and "I love you's."

That had begun a while ago, too. March had not yet ended when she said it. Spike remembered the moment clearly, her first confession, as he knew he would for the rest of his life.

Giles, who was kind to Spike out of respect for Buffy more than out of genuine approval, was proving to be a hard won ally. He did love the girl, though, so Spike didn't rock the boat by griping. It wasn't like Giles outwardly disliked him, he simply wasn't... sure, about him.

This all changed one day when Buffy came home to find her cousin making out with his beloved Jenny on her living room couch. The moment was less cringe-worthy than anticipated and more sweet, Buffy admitted, but it became the catalyst to Spike's request that they move in together.

He smiled now, remembering her expression. His girl was beautifully stunned; he was shaking in his boots. After all, Giles was only staying for a short time under her roof. The man just needed to find a place to rent before he had the majority of his personal belongings sent from England.

Buffy was thrilled by the move, and she approved of Jenny wholeheartedly, however, her cousin had yet to find any apartments in town. He was looking at places further out when Spike had thought maybe, if Buffy wanted, there was a nice solution to the problem for everyone.

In the end, after reminding her how much he loved her, loved her cat, too, and how it was silly at this point when they rarely chose to sleep apart, she said yes. From then, the plan was set in motion. Giles would rent Buffy's house at a family discount, and she would move in with her boyfriend; into his overly large mansion home just waiting for a woman's touch. Spike was the happiest man on the planet.

While they were in the process of lugging boxes and furniture and arranging things from room to room, the words came seemingly out of nowhere. Tacked themselves onto the end of another chilly afternoon in March quite effortlessly. He had just finished hanging up a new shower curtain in the bathroom so it would match the rest of Buffy's girly additions when he heard her say it. Behind him, in the doorway, while watching him step down from the edge of the tub. She told him she loved him.

Spike shuddered now. The confession, every time she said it and remembering the first, still made his chest fill with warmth. The words, their echo, tingled all across his flesh like falling stars. He would never tire of it. Never be anything but stupidly happy.

Spike walked out of another bathroom now, recalling still the way he had lifted her in his arms. Boxes and packing peanuts were left forgotten for several days while he thanked her, and reaffirmed his own feelings, barely glancing outside the bedroom door for hours at a time. They had to buy new sheets after Buffy convinced him, repeatedly, that she wasn't going to retract her confession. As a matter of fact, she kept saying it. Over and over again.

Of all the things Spike couldn't believe, it was that. Not the tears in the bedclothes they'd made, or the piles of mixed laundry proving Buffy really was living with him; it was the fact he had earned her love. The fact she meant it.

"I do, Spike. I never thought... I could care this much about anyone again in a lifetime, but I was wrong. I love you. So much..."

Now, he wanted for nothing. There was no simplicity to the way they did things, unless you counted how they worked together, and understood each other's motives so easily. They argued, sure, but it made their bond stronger. He didn't feel close to losing her anymore, and she knew what he felt was real. This trust in one another, this devotion, was the foundation of their union. If it ever cracked, well, you could be certain they would fix it.

As Spike strode quickly through the empty halls, to the door reading 'Guidance Counselor,' his heart was close to beating out of his chest. He knocked, because he knew she might still be with a student, but soon Buffy beckoned him inside.

Spike entered quietly and quickly, only to find her alone, sitting on her desk. "All finished for the day?"

She smiled a sultry little smile, nodding perkily. He was drawn closer without much effort. "You?"

"Brooms have retired." He swayed against her leg. Buffy wore a knee length black pencil skirt with an emerald green blouse, and a dark camisole underneath. Her throat was bare but her ears were sparkling from the earrings he had given her on her birthday. Seeing them only encouraged the urge to touch. Spike's hand wrapped gently around the nape of her neck. She still neglected to hop off the desk.

"What're you thinkin'?" he asked.

Another cute, kittenish smile. "Nothing," she said in an innocent tone that sounded anything but, then leaned in for a kiss. Spike felt one strapped ankle hook around his calf.

He pulled reluctantly away from her after a few moments. "Why do I get the feeling you're up to something?"

"Maybe I am." Buffy latched onto the cotton of his fresh T-shirt, her nose grazing a path along the underside of his jaw. Spike's lips parted involuntarily. "You smell nice."

"Not like bleach?"

"Not one bit."

"Changing was worth it then." He caught her eyes. The glint in them sparked electricity in his gut.

"How long will it take us to get home?" she asked.

"Same length as it always does, I reckon'."

She pouted, hands smoothing down his shirtfront.

"If you want to start something," he said with a brow tick, "you should know you're already close to crossin' a line."

Buffy sighed. "Well, then we should probably get out of here."

She didn't move. "Yeah, now. Less you want to be shagged on your desk."

His girl withheld a laugh, but hopped down. Grabbing her purse and walking towards the door, she said, "I wouldn't be opposed to it."

The next thing she knew, Spike had chased her out of the office and all the way outside. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her into a kiss hotter than the spring air around them. Her feet dangled above the ground.

She pulled back first, gasping. "Race you home?"

He set her down and grabbed her hand, hurrying them both towards the DeSoto waiting in the corner of the lot, beside her cherry red Jeep.

Buffy's stomach fluttered as he opened her door and helped her in. They were both starting their engines a minute later, Spike rolling down his passenger window when she urged him to do so. "Hey, I forgot to tell you. Jack is coming by the house tonight."

"Oh?" he yelled over the sound of the running cars. "How come?"

"I think it's girl trouble."

"He say that?"

"No, but I know Phoebe's birthday is coming up and Jack probably doesn't know what to get her."

Spike frowned. "You know it's scary when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Guess these things."

"It's a gift."

"Don't I know it." He smiled and shook his head. "Hope he's not droppin' in too early?"

"We have a couple hours."

"Good." Spike leaned back inside his car, winking at her. "See you at home, kitten."

Buffy waved and, without so much as a glance in her rearview or a turn signal, sped sloppily out of her parking spot. She managed to reach the exit before he pulled up beside her and started shouting. She had to brake quite suddenly.

"M'not actually racing you home, woman!"

"How come?"

"Because you drive like a maniac as is. Want to keep you in one piece. Stick to the speed limit!"

"Party pooper." Buffy laughed at the expression on his face. "Fine, no racing. But if I get home first I hope you know I am getting in the tub, running a bubble bath, and locking the door. Just keep that in mind."

Spike gave her a dangerous look and said, "Oh, you've done it now," before speeding off. Buffy took a moment to turn on her radio and adjust the channel, grinning without a trace of guilt. She made sure to abide by every caution sign and speed ordinance during the short drive home. When she pulled up to the house and parked, Spike was standing at the entrance with crossed arms and a baleful expression.

She noted the fact he had already taken off his shoes and shirt. All he wore were jeans. Yummy. "You said to stick to the speed limits!" Buffy called through her open window.

He didn't respond. He didn't say anything as she got out of the car, because he knew he couldn't, and she knew he'd rather be stuck waiting for her than risk her safety anyhow, even minimally. "You mad, Spikey?"

His jaw clenched, but in that sexy way that said he wasn't so much mad as he was practicing restraint.

Before Buffy knew it, she had been picked up and hauled over Spike's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Hey! Not fair!"

He wrapped his free arm around her flailing ankles. "Watch it with those heels, less you want them tossed."

"You wouldn't."

"Don't test me."

"Spike-" he slammed the front door and headed for the bathroom. She could hear water running, and suddenly, Buffy didn't mind being carried so much.

As a matter of fact, she smiled behind his back. Moments like this were why; why she was happier than she had ever been in her life, why she knew that Spike was, too. Why she was grateful for time, and love, and the ability hearts kept to heal, withstand, and grow.

And why, they both knew, just as well, that their love would last.

The End





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