AN: Buffy rides the bus in silence. Spike is gone. What difference does it make if she saved the world or not? Set after Chosen. Buffy/Spike pairing. One Shot. Italics represent Buffy's memories.

Disclaimer: Buffy is not mine, but we all can pray and hope, right?

What Difference Does It Make?

XXXX

Buffy's head lies against the cool glass of the window. Dawn beside her is napping. The stab-wound is nothing compared to the heartache. Spike is gone. Dust in the wind. He had the chance to escape, to go with her. But he wanted to do the stupid, heroic thing. Was that because of the soul? Because of her? Both?

She was the reason for the soul; so technically, she's the reason for his death. She laughs. She killed him. Dawn moves in her sleep, becomes still again. What difference does it make, she asks herself. Spike's gone.

"Buffy, we gotta stop at hospital. Robin needs to be checked out." Faith says. Buffy hears more worry in the other slayers voice than she has before. Faith's hands are pressing a former white, now deep red shirt over Wood's wound.

"We will," Buffy starts, looking out the window. The sandiness of the desert isn't enough yet. Once they reach LA. They'll be safe there. "We will, once we reach LA. We can stop off at a hospital, get the wounded checked out before meeting with Angel."

"Buffy, we may need to stop before that." Giles calls down to her from the drivers seat. "We are running low on petrol."

"Fine, the next station, then hospital, then Angel's." Then she can begin her new life. Her normal life.

They drive over a pot hole, her head smacks against the glass, her wound bleeds a little. But the pain is nothing. Spike's gone. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have found the scythe. That night in the house, he gave her strength that she has never known of. His words were power. And his love was the key. To her growth. To her winning. Buffy closes her eyes, remembering his words.

"I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls." Spike looks into her eyes.

"A 100+ years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of: you." Buffy looks away; he reaches toward her face.

"Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say, "I love you," it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me." A tear rolls down Buffy's cheek.

"I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."

After that night, those few minutes that he told her why he loved her, she felt her heartstrings pull. If he hadn't died, she would've made him believe her. Believe her words.

"I can feel it Buffy." Spike says. He sounds amazed.

"What?"

"My soul…it's really there. Kind of stings."

Buffy and Spike are the only ones left in the Hellmouth. Spike is still glowing from the amulet, sending rays of light out into the Hellmouth. Buffy stands in front of him, staring, still holding her scythe He's the reason she's holding it.

"Go on, then." He urges.

"No. No, you've done enough. You could still---"

"No, you've beat them back. It's for me to do the clean up." Spike replies, as the walls crumble around them.

"Spike!" Buffy roars, worry etched over her features.

"I mean it! I gotta do this!" Spike replies, holding out his hand as if to stop her. Buffy laces her fingers through his, and they burst into flames together.

"I love you." She looks him the eyes as she says it softly.

"No, you don't. But thanks for saying it anyway."

Another earthquake, Buffy let's go of his hand.

"Buffy, I'm gonna fill up, want anything?" Xander asked, knocking her from her thoughts. He's standing at the exit to the bus. Others have gotten off the bus, Dawn included.

"Nothing, thanks." Xander nods in her direction and hops from the bus. They're in the same boat now. They've both lost their lovers. Spike and Anya. Warriors of good, both with evil pasts. Buffy snorts. Her life is too much like a soap opera.

They both changed, through love. God, her life is a soap opera. In the supernatural, dangerous kind of way.

They've been on the road for thirty minutes. That's, what? Ten, fifteen miles between them and the pit? The pit that, for the past six years, has been home. They've buried loved ones there. Her mom. Tara. Ms. Calendar. Spike. Anya. Too many good people have died. Willow killed because she lost Tara. She lost all of her identity. But she came through it. She has a new love in her life. She's gone past the black hair, vein-y evil. She's a goddess. At least, that's what Kennedy told you as you got back on the bus.

Buffy shuts her eyes, tries to sleep. But the voices grow louder as the other escapees are returning to their vehicle. Buffy keeps her eyes closed, hoping they'll quieten down. She guess right, she hears Dawn make shushing noises.

She tells herself she's just going to rest her eyes, that's all. She won't sleep. What's the point? She saved the world, but lost Spike.

His ashes rest above and below rubble of the high school, of the town. She feels something like a jumper be placed over her arms. It feels nice. Warm. And now she has to fight the urge. Sleeping, yay or nay? The 'yay' party wins out.

"Buffy? Buffy, wake up. We're here." The voice sounds distant. Buffy moves her shoulders, hoping to fall into the deep sleep again. What difference does it make if she's gets up?

"Buffy, we're at Angel's hotel. Big, comfy beds for us to sleep in." The voice continues, and then pokes her. Pokes her?

Buffy opens her heavy lids to see blonde hair.

"Spike?" She asks, hope against hope. But, deep down, she remembers. Spike is gone.

"No, Buffy, An-drew. An-drew."

Now she's awake. She sits up to find the bus half full. They must've already been to the hospital. The injured are missing, as is Faith and Dawn.

"Where's Dawn?" Buffy asks, worried.

"She's already inside. The others are waiting for you." Giles says, making his way to Buffy.

"Good, that's good." Andrew moves away, off the bus.

"Are you going to get off this bus?" Giles asks, sitting beside her.

"I'm not sure. What difference does it make? Evil still exists, and I'm… I'm…"

"He died an honourable death, Buffy. A heroes deaths." Giles says, taking off his glasses to clean. "I may have underestimated the power of his soul."

"Ya think?" Buffy smiled. The first proper one since she got back on the bus.

"And he would've wanted you to live Buffy. He loved you. He sang it to you." Giles continues, as if ignoring Buffy's comment.

"So, what do you say?" Giles asks. He moves from the seat to the aisle. "We're all waiting."

And Buffy makes a decision.

She moves.

She lives.

For him.

XXXX

AN: So, what do you think? Please, please, please review.