Well, hello, all:

Here we are, at the end of another book. An Epilogue left, to give you a place to rest. But herein ends this story.

I will write my heart-felts, and my beta gushing, with the Epi, but I wanted to thank you all for reading with me this far. Without you, we wouldn't be seven books, and several series, into a story. Without your support, I would be less, both as a writer and as a person.

So, this is dedicated to all of you. Thank you for being there. Thank you for reading.

Cheery Vibes

Nimue

"Though she be but little, she is fierce." William Shakespeare – A Midsummer Night's Dream

www.DragonflyMoon(dot)net

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Title: One Movement(Chapter Forty-Six - Meant to Be)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Spike/Buffy (Most major characters included)

Feedback: Yes, please NimueofAvalon71 (at)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to someone other than me; they belong to Mutant Enemy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Fox, UPN, WB, their affiliates, lawyers and all sorts of other folks that aren't me. :::sigh::::

Summary: Spike and Buffy check out the mansion. Angel readies Cordelia for her reunification with her friends. And Spike still has surprises left in him, even after all this time.

One Movement

"Looks as though they're gone, Pet," Spike commented as he descended the stairway of the Crawford Street mansion and Buffy finished a round of the first floor. They'd scoured the basement together.

"What's wiggy is that it looks like they were never here," she answered, stowing her stake in the front of her jeans and walking across the marbled lobby to meet her love.

"Vampires have a way of not leaving a trace on short notice," he answered, hopping off the bottom stair and taking her hand. "Not a bad place, really."

"This one?" Buffy answered, squinching her nose.

"Could use some paint and ..."

"Fumigation...."

Spike grinned. "But it would be a far better headquarters for world saving than our humble abode."

"I like our abode," Buffy shot back. "You've been talking, no listening to Xander, haven't you?"

"As though the whelp could convince me," Spike scoffed, leading Buffy out the front door. "But I've a far better idea."

"You ready for this?" Angel asked, standing with his hand on the front door of the crypt and looking back inside. She was redressed now, in clothes that one of the other girls must have left behind. Dawn, from the look of things.

He'd found the shower and helped her clean off the blood. And he cried as she mourned the loss of the only thing left of her humanity. Her own blood. Still, though, she had her soul. She had that bit of her that made her Cordelia, and despite the anger and the tears, somewhere inside, Angel could tell it was really still her.

"I don't know," Cordelia finally answered, arms wrapped around her waist and staring solidly at the door. It hurt to look at him still.

"Cordy, they aren't going to judge you... Me, on the other hand...."

"Spike's going to kick your ass," Cordelia commented, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"He would have done that anyway," Angel chortled, opening the door a little wider. "Remember, Cordy, these people .... I know how hard this is for you. Believe it or not, I remember that. Granted, I wasn't a model human being to start with, but I still remember feeling... lost. But you're not walking into a lion's den where people are just going to judge you for what you are. "

"I know," Cordelia answered. "I just feel... stupid."

Angel quirked his brow. "Stupid? For what?"

"Dying."

With a sigh, he walked from the door to the center of the room, taking her hand in his. He thought for a moment, studying her face, his other hand rising to trace the contours of her cheek with his thumb. "Happens to the best of us. And most of us, not so nobly."

"I'm noble?" Her voice was childlike, almost.

"Hey, you died trying to protect us. I'd say that qualifies," he answered, gently leading her out the door.

She straightened, trying to find a new way of looking at it. "I'm noble. Wow, who'd have thought it?"

As he led her out the door, he answered. "I did."

It was almost like old times. Well, plus a few faces, but the theory was the same. Buffy's house, packed with people, some hovering over books or laptops, some snacking, some chatting in corners. The kids, all of them save Emma, were temporarily stowed in beds upstairs. The Hellmouth may be a crazy place, but bedtimes were bedtimes and they'd all had a hard week.

Buffy and Spike looked around the packed house from the doorway, thinking. Surveying. Spike had been right. The One had become a force, rather than just a pair. A small army fighting against the end of the world or the hostile takeover by forces not so interested in preserving life as they knew it.

The One had become a movement.

Over the years, more and more had been drawn into their ranks, by love, by birth, by conscience. And the walls of this house were no longer big enough to contain them. It was their responsibility to lead them. Their responsibility to protect them. Their responsibility to make the choices that would preserve, and give the advantage to, the white hats.

Spike had been right. Strategically and figuratively, it was the right move.

With a deep breath, she nodded.

He squeezed her hand and let go, walking off to search for Xander. Buffy walked in the opposite direction, putting on a smile and greeting her troops as family.

They were, and always would be, her family.

"Any sign of the bumpy brigade?" Willow asked as Buffy found a seat on the couch next to her closest friend. Emma crawled into her lap and settled her head against her mother's chest.

"Looks like they ran," Buffy answered, sighing and settling back into the couch. "How's everything here?"

"Well, Wesley and Giles have been searching through some of the codexes for information on Luke and Draconius. I mean, not much on the net. At least not yet. I keep telling them they need to scan all those dusty books and make them accessible to..."

Buffy chuckled. "Why do I think we'd get a lot more done if you were the head of the Council?"

"Because we would," Willow answered, grinning. She was silent for a moment, smile fading. "Any sign of .... Did you see...?"

"The newest creature of the night?" Buffy asked, pulling Emma closer, "No, not yet. I'm sure that she'll come when she's ready."

"Do you think...? Did Angel do the right thing?"

The Slayer sighed. "I don't know if there is a right in that situation. I mean, I'd like to say that if it was Cordelia's time, we should have let her go. But it's not always that easy."

Willow's head dropped, remembering the times she wasn't willing to give up her friends to the great beyond. The lengths to which she had gone to stop that from happening.

"I think," Buffy continued, trying not to let her friend dredge up painful memories long past, "that he did what he thought was right. I can't say that Spike wouldn't have done the same thing in the same situation."

Willow's eyes opened wide. "Make you a Vampire so you'd be... wow. I don't even want to know what happens when a Slayer gets turned. Freaky."

"I don't either," Buffy chuckled, grabbing a cookie from the tray next to the table. "But when you love someone...."

"You do the wacky," Willow agreed, settling back into the couch.

"Much wacky."

"You're serious?" Xander asked, leaning up against the porch railing in the back yard. "You want to do this?"

Spike nodded. "Wouldn't, 'cept this place would go to a worthy successor."

"But the mansion?"

"You said you could fix it up."

"I can," Xander answered, taking a long draw off of his beer. "I mean, the place has the potential to be a palace. And I know the Council will bank roll it all since they sort of owe you and Buffy...."

"Once we explain the reasons," Spike corrected. "We can't exactly run an army from a suburban three bedroom."

Xander chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, it's tight in there."

"And the masses seem to be ever expanding," Spike contributed, taking a pull from his own draft. "So, you'll do it?"

"Sure," Xander answered, visions of remaking all of that beautiful stone and wood into what it probably once was – an elegant tribute to design. "I can draw up the papers on Monday. The house is owned by the state since it's been abandoned so long. I'll make a call from work and you can probably get it for a song."

"Thanks," Spike answered, thinking of the changes that were to come. Now all they had to do was talk it over with the other party involved. A gift that neither of them would be expecting.

There was a long pause as the two men stood on the back deck, looking out into the starry night. "You seen Cordelia since ...." Xander finally asked.

"No," Spike answered. "Not since she rose. Angel will want to ... train her a bit. "

"Train?"

"Not in the way he disciplined me, or Dru, for that matter. Got a soul now, the ponce. But he'll want to lay down the rules. That, and clean her up a bit," Spike answered.

"He disciplined you?" Xander asked, genuinely curious now.

Spike turned towards the man and looked at him as if he'd grown another head. "Course he did. I was his property. Could do whatever he pleased, really."

"Hard to think of you taking it," Xander answered, a bit ashamed for opening this particular can of worms.

Spike sighed. "You don't know much when you first rise. Just feed. And, o' course, the fists and fangs bit. S'like being drunk at a bar. Just want to drink, eat, fight and find a woman."

"And Angel taught you not to do that?"

The Vampire laughed out loud at that one. "Angelus? No, he encouraged it. Only he wanted it done on his terms and he got them all before we did."

"Dibs?" Xander asked.

"Wolves," Spike responded. "Alpha gets the good bits, and the pack gets what's left. In Angelus's mind, that's how we learned."

"But not in Angel's?"

"Different, now, innit? He has a soul. She has a soul. There's reason involved. Morality. Guidance above and beyond what we had then." Spike took another long pull. "Besides, he loved her before. No reason the poof would do anything but love her now. She's just his... consort now."

"Consort?" Xander asked, intrigued.

Spike nodded. "Mate. Partner."

"Like Vampire marriage?"

Another chuckle from the blond. "A bit. More blood involved."

Xander danced a little shivering jig of disgust. "Ew." A long pause. "Is Buffy....?"

"Bit different still," Spike explained. "The joining was more complete than that."

"The One thing?"

Spike nodded.

"But you..."

"Yes, if we were both Vampires, she'd be my Mate. "

Another jig from the Human. "She let you do that?"

"We didn't much have a choice, but yes," Spike answered.

"Gah!"

A ruckus from inside, followed by silence, drew the men's attention back indoors. Slowly, they crept in the back door, not sure of what they'd find inside.

Spike eyed Buffy on the couch as he reached the kitchen doorway. Calm but alert, their daughter held in her lap. She glanced back and nodded – a silent signal that all was under control. He returned the nod imperceptibly, and strode out from the doorway into the living room, Xander stopping by Takina's side.

Angel and Cordelia, looking tired and worn, stood in the entryway. She was hugging herself, picking at the lavender sweater that Angel had found for her, and staring self-consciously at her well-cleaned boots. Angel looked guilty and repentant – not that he ever showed any other expression.

Spike was the one to break the silence. He'd thought about every snarky remark, every snide barb that he could throw at his errant master, but Cordelia... she hadn't done this, and Spike knew that, especially with the souls involved, any ill thought out words would likely alienate her from the rest. Something she didn't deserve.

"Sire," Spike spoke strongly, bowing his head in a formal gesture of pack inferiority. Buffy's eyes nearly bulged out of her head watching Spike approach in such a submissive position.

But Angel understood. Until Cordelia knew, until she understood, what it was to be a Vampire, Spike would play by the rules. Internally, the dark-haired Vampire chuckled. Once that bit was over, Spike would pay him back in spades.

"Childe," Angel responded, his voice strong and clear despite wanting to cry or to scream. Spike stood in front of him, head still bowed. In reality, he should have knelt before his Master, but there was no way he would get that much cooperation from his eldest living Childe.

"You have extended our line," Spike recited from memory. He'd done this before, even though neither Buffy nor the others, knew of Angelus's other Childer.

"I have taken a Consort," Angel replied, making Cordelia's status within the line clear. She was not to be treated as a fledgling, but rather as a Queen.

Spike nodded. "A worthy mate."

Angel nodded, taking Cordelia's hand and holding it out to Spike. Spike leaned forward, kissing the back of her hand.

"She will be respected."

Again, Spike nodded. "She will be welcomed into the Order." He thought for a moment and then raised his head. Not quite part of the ceremony, but this was not an ordinary situation. Spike trained blue eyes on his Sire, and then on Cordelia. "She will be welcomed into our home, and our lives, as you see fit, Sire."

Angel shook his head, chuckling. Leave it to his wayward Childe to find the words to make this okay. For all his bluster and bravado, Spike knew when to find the right phrase, to say the right thing. The dark-haired Vampire looked at his mate, her eyes teary and afraid. But she smiled at Spike's words, looking him in the eye and then scanning a room full of familiar faces.

Funny how everything changes in the blink of an eye, but some things always remain the same.

"Cordelia," Wesley breathed, knowing that the formality had ended. He walked to her and hugged her, pulling her into his embrace until she understood that they would all still love her just the same. One by one, the others followed suit, finding a way to make this horror all right.

Then again, that's what they did. They made the nightmares go away. They made the world all right again, despite the monsters under the bed.

She found him on the bottom step of the back porch, hands clasped between his knees, staring up at the stars.

With a click, the kitchen door shut behind her and she walked quietly to him, sitting down at his right without a sound.

His hands unclasped and one found hers, enveloping her tiny palm in his. Winding their fingers together in a show of strength. Of love. Of unity.

Of Oneness.

She was quiet for a long moment. "What you did in there was..."

He nodded, breathing in the night air. "It was the right thing to do."

"You gave her back her dignity," Buffy answered, tightening her fingers around his.

"She didn't ask for this," Spike responded. "Not easy, if you don't know what to do."

"But Angel will show her. You showed her," Buffy responded, leaning her shoulder into his. "It doesn't have to be as hard for her."

Spike shook his head. "No, it doesn't. But it won't ever be easy."

A nod from the Slayer. "Life rarely is. Guess unlife too."

The Vampire smiled, turning to face his lover. "S'been worth it, though. For me, at least."

"Yeah, I'd have to say, beyond the ruined wardrobe, near death experiences, and frequent need for manicures, it's been worth it," she answered, smiling back at him. Studying his rugged face, his beautiful, blue eyes. "It gave me you. And the kids."

"I love you, Buffy," he whispered, leaning towards her and pressing his lips softly against hers.

She raised her palm to his cheek and held him to her. "I love you always, Spike."

"Every day."

END

Epilogue to follow.