A/N: Thanks to DoS for betaing the second half of this chapter, and to all of those who have ever reviewed this fic. Not too many words in this chapter, true, but it is in fact the last chapter. I could have made it longer, if I had added a section of Xander's great revelation, and professing his love to Anya. But you've already seen that- it did not need to be shown in great detail (in my humble opinion). So yes, this is the last chapter... However, there is quite a long epilogue to follow. I have no idea when I will be able to post it- perhaps within a week, or perhaps by the first week of November. I cannot say for sure. Either way, hope you enjoyed the ride, and that you'll see the ending, brief as it is, to be worth your valuable time. And perhaps a bit more for a review ;) Critique me!! I'm dying, here...er um, Muse is, I mean. *gg*

Hugs to you all,

~Scarlet



"Bittersweet Symphony"


Giles didn't even bother getting into his car. He needed the air--the space. And though his little red sports car had a drop top, he knew that it would just make him feel confined. Walking was good. It would clear his mind.

Or so he hoped.

"Bloody hell," he sighed to himself, turning back towards his flat, digging into the pocket of his jacket for his car keys.

Within minutes, he was driving down the road, going fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit. His mind was still cluttered, of course. The driving, much like the walking, didn't help.

His slayer once again held a vampire dear to her heart. A soulless one at that.

Giles scoffed to himself as he rounded a corner.

If he were to be truly honest with himself, he saw it coming.

It always flitted around in the back of his mind--how Spike would blaze in and out of town, always leaving unscathed, while Buffy remained in Sunnydale, equally unharmed. Not for a lack of trying, of course. But then there was the abundance of truces between the two, in addition to Buffy's willingness to help him once he was chipped. Their annoying banter, that reminded him so much of children in a school yard--the little boy who claimed that girls were plagued with cooties, and yet couldn't wait to run up to the girl he found most peculiar and equally disgusting, punching her in the arm to make her cry, when all he really wanted to do was kiss her on the cheek. And after a brief bout of crying, the girl would find the boy, kick him hard on his shin, and then somehow it would evolve into something else.

Something more, eventually, leaving the realm of simplicity behind.

Ever since Willow's failed, well, successful, actually, Will Be Done spell, and the faux engagement between the two warriors, he hadn't been able to shake the image of them together from his mind (even though he could not actually see them at the time--the sounds of groping and smacking and the abundance of giggles and happy laughter had been more than enough). In fact, he had to admit that he knew this day would come. Hence his failed attempt nearly a year ago to try to convince Spike that perhaps his chip was a divine intervention. Should the day come when the two's subconscious feelings for one another would come to the forefront, at least Spike's place would have been solidified on the side of good, brought on by his handicap. And now the chip was rendered useless.

And yet...it didn't seem to matter. Either the vampire was in denial, or he couldn't see it just yet, but he cared for Buffy. Even stranger, he sought Giles' approval.

But strangest of all, Giles supposed, was that Spike in fact had that approval, and that the Watcher felt, at least at this point in time, that it was not misplaced.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike knew there was one of two answers he could give to that particular question: the truth, which he had no doubt would come out in a bumbling, bashful, William sort of way, or a straight-up lie, which he knew would come out a little too vehemently, and of course if he protested too much...

Suddenly, a third tactic occurred to him.

"And what would make you ask such a question, pet?"

Evasion.

"Well, besides the fact that you viciously not killed me tonight?" Buffy paused for effect, watching his reactions carefully.

He gave none, of course. He merely tilted his head, indifference tinged with a bit of curiosity written upon his face.

"Harmony and I had a little chat. She told me."

That simple statement completely cracked his facade, reducing it to so much ash in the wind.

He looked shocked at first, his eyes widening…and then anger set in.

"She...What?! What did she say?" he seethed, his voice low and deadly, body tense and fists clenched at his sides.

Buffy wasn't worried, though. She knew his anger was directed at Harmony for disclosing what was obviously a secret, rather than at her for knowing said secret.

"Easy there, Hulk. She didn't...I mean, she just wanted to make sure you'd be taken care of. And it's true, isn't?" Spike scoffed, turning slightly away from her, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Have no idea what you're goin' on about, Slayer."

"No? So what, she lied to me? Why would she lie about something like that?"

"Maybe cause the bint's on a slow train? Her brain's on indefinite stand by? Who knows?" he said with a jerked shrug of his shoulders.

"Spike, I know she wasn't lying to me. I mean, your actions kinda prove that theory anyway." She could see him clenching his jaw, clearly aggravated and distraught that she was now aware of his feelings.

"So what if it is? If it's true, then what?" he questioned softly, his head hanging downward, refusing to look at her. He couldn't bear it--wouldn't be able to bear seeing her rejection, couldn't bear to see cruelty creep into her voice, as laughter--laughter at him glittered in her eyes.

Buffy swallowed, starting to reach out to him, but then allowing her hand to drop. She let him keep his distance, if that was what he wanted.

"It's...it's okay if you do."

Spike's head snapped up at that, swiveling toward her so fast that she wondered if he'd have a crook in his neck as a result. He didn't seem to have any discomfort, so she figured no.

She didn't have time to dwell on it however, because she suddenly became overwhelmed by the look of hope and wonder in his eyes. His gaze was so piercing, she felt her heart constrict in her chest, and time seemed to gradually slow down until it stopped completely.

She was frozen in place—struck immobile due to his powerful, unwavering stare; and the only thing that let her know for certain that this moment was real was the invisible grip on her heart, causing it to beat erratically. Buffy involuntarily sucked in a breath, her left hand quickly lifting up to rest on her chest, over her beating heart, in subconscious hopes of somehow slowing it down.

"Why?" His voice was strangely soft.

"I dunno. But it's gotta be way better than plotting my demise. More pleasant, you know?" The lighthearted, cheerfulness of her voice was clearly forced, though it invoked a slight smile from Spike regardless.

"Perhaps," he replied with a nod. "Not that my plans of your demise ever really worked in my favor."

"Hey, same here. Though most of my plans of your demise were really in retaliation." This time, the lightness of her tone was natural, and she was clearly teasing. Then, her expression turned serious once more. "I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow, or the day after or...you catch my drift. But I just wanted you to know that whatever happens, I'll try my best to keep an open mind. And I'm thinking that what we both need more than anything right now is time."

"Time," he murmured, eyes dropping from hers once again. "But someday...there's a chance for a someday?" His gaze lifted back to hers, hope burgeoning in their clear, cerulean depths.

"Definitely a someday," Buffy replied quietly, reaching out for his hand as a small smile graced her face.

And if the continued quickening of her heart beat, and the way her insides warmed instantaneously at the bare contact of merely holding his hand, meant anything, she knew that someday couldn't be all that far away.