"It doesn't," she agrees, nodding her head and thinking once again of Dante's structure of hell. "I think there are many things worse than lust."

She follows him with her eyes as he walks to the window and opens the shade. Propping her chin on her hand, she gazes past him and through the window at the destruction of the universe. No, the end of the universe. She finds herself not wanting to think of it as destruction, even if it's the truth; the view is beautiful and destruction seems so negative a word for it.

When Spike holds out his hand, she just takes it. No overanalysis necessary.