One by one they peeled off from her. Willow left swiftly while Xander lingered with an affectionate squeeze of her hand. Friends who became family, then like extensions of herself.

And now following their own path.

Just as she was.

In the end, the Slayer is alone.

But if things went the way they were supposed to, all of that would change. Forever.

For the sumpteenth time that day, Buffy feared she was cracking up. Not only because of the plan, which had a certain brilliant insanity to it. Like Van Gogh. Or Van Halen. But she heard voices as she walked down the cavernous halls. From her past. The last seven years as the sole guardian of the Hellmouth.

The last voice she heard was a lower class English brogue. Cocky and arrogant. And deadly as sin. Delectable as sin. Considering her former enemy now lover had a soul and proved he was a good man, she could admit that dark little tidbit.

What can I say? Couldn't wait.

But he could. That's what Buffy had learned these past long months with Spike. He could wait. He's been waiting since he fell in love with her. Waiting for her to catch up.

It marvels Buffy even now to think that. That he had the faith in her to catch up. She had given him more than enough reasons to run away and stay away. But he came back.

He came back to her. And waited.

She wished she could share with her friends why she stood at his side so unconditionally. She wasn't even sure. Guilt? Pity? Love?

But she thinks about the unspoken commitment they made. She isn't sure when it was made. It could have been when he begged for death even though he wasn't in control of his actions. And then, remarkably, did the same thing down in the basement with the sole purpose to protect those who inhabited her house. Protect her. Or maybe when she rescued him and couldn't contain any semblance of Slayerial professionalism when she saw his face beam with grateful awe. No, that was more than a rescue. It was a bloody revelation.

But somewhere along the way, they made a pact to stand together through come what may. Walk, fight, be side by side.No matter what. Friends betraying friends. Brief brow-beating to turn good human beings into warriors. Or just plain isolationist Slayer issues, they actually did it. They weathered the storm. They slept in each other's arms. They made love for the first time.

She fell behind, and he waited for her to catch up. And she did. And she knows she would do the same for him. Know that he would do his damndest to catch up with her.

Buffy turned the corner and saw him standing quietly, patiently. Ever fiber of his being focused on her proud walk to the Hellmouth. And Buffy met his eyes straight on. Not looking away. Not evading. But letting the connection they shared surge through her. Provide her with the strength to face Hell at his side.

And it was there that Buffy Summers made her promise. If they--No, when they won this war, things would keep improving between them, progressing, reaching a level of love and commitment she never knew was possible. Never saw herself of actually being capable of until now. And every moment, every second that life would prevent their heaven, they would make it their goal to reach for it regardless. Every gesture, every look as notes to the greatest symphony ever composed and performed. Every kiss as a holy act of privilege. Every moment of private embrace entwined in the dignity of the naked self, two into one, as sacred as a communion. And Buffy dared not let herself dream or hope for any more than that. Some wishes were just too powerful.

But for now this is what they are. A union. And she no longer fears falling, because he would be there to catch her, and she him. And Buffy would try as hard as she ever tried to show she loved, to tell him that she loved, to love him as much as he loved her.

She felt so honored, so proud to be at his side. To be a witness to one who loved so selflessly as he. She only hoped that one day she would master the lessons in love he had taught her. Make him just as proud. She caught up with him and they both turned to the basement door.

"Time to go to work, love,:" he said softly.

And together the shining lover warriors descended into the shrouding darkness.

DONE