Title: Confusion
Author: Kat
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's sad really.
Pairings: Shades of B/A, B/S(dear my, can't believe I did it), S/Dru
Spoilers: The Gift.
Summary: Buffy's time in 'Heaven'. Post-Gift fic.
********************************************************************************
She was very confused when she first got there. There was the blinding light and a short flash of pain and then this, just a field that smelled like rain and flowers. A large expanse of grass that seemed to go off for millions of miles in every direction. Soft daisies and wildflowers embellished the rich green grass. She doesn't remember how long she had been there before she came to greet her. But all of a sudden she could see her mother, adorned in gauzy white, coming down the hill.
She gave her a soft smile that reached her eyes. "Oh Buffy, I hadn't expected you this soon."
And through her tears she called our 'Mommy'.
Her mother kissed her forehead and sat down next to her. "If I had known I would have been here sooner. If I had known." She started to weave the daisies into a crown of green and white and gold.
"Mommy?" she had asked, still confused. She fell into her lap and cried until she fell to sleep.
When she awoke it was not her mother who was holding her and stroking her hair. He looked very familiar, but so different. His hair was longer, and darker and the way he carried himself was infinitely less cocky.
"Spike?" she asked.
"Actually luv, it's William," he told her in a heavy accent.
"His soul."
He tapped her nose with the tip of his finger, "Always were a quick one." He stood and offered her his hand, "Up you go. We've places to be."
She looked up at him, confused yet again, but accepted his hand nonetheless. They walked in some direction, she couldn't quite tell which way they were going, and she was shocked when the field ended and she was suddenly inside a grand ballroom.
He was in a tux, much different than the earthy tones of his earlier suit. He offered her his hand in a gentlemanly gesture. She was about to protest that her clothes would prevent her from such a gala, when she looked down and saw that her clothes too had changed. She was now dressed in a long, dark green gown that belled at her hips and hung off her tanned shoulders. She gave him a smile and accepted his hand.
She knew how to waltz in this place, something she didn't quite know if she already knew. She lost count in her thoughts and tripped on his foot. She grabbed his shoulder, only to find that with the pressure his form molded to her fingers. "What?"
He gave her a knowing smile, "I'm not all here ducks. You see there's this little piece of me that's still in that body of mine." He leaned close to her ear, "That's why he can love you. There's just enough of me in there to give him human emotions. And maybe there's just enough of me in there for you to love me back." He spun her around and handed her off to another partner. She watched as he danced away with a dark-haired girl who wore blood red and black in an ancient design.
She looked finally at her own partner and a single word escaped her lips. "Angel." Her eyes suddenly clouded with worry.
He brought his lips down to meet hers in a soft kiss that lastly only a second or two. "Don't worry, I'm not dead." He gave her a half-grin, "Well, not dusted at least." She tried to laugh at his joke but found her agony had prevented even that. "I'm not all of him, just the parts that belong to you."
She danced with him the rest of the night. He spun her around and had dipped her in an eccentric manner. They had kissed and they had laughed and she clearly remembers being truly happy with him. There were others at the ball that she knew, Jenny Calendar and her sister-slayer Kendra. She danced with William a few more times and the silly half-demon Angel had worked with that she had only met once.
That's the part that confuses her the most. Her time there spanned only hours, a day at most. But the next thing she knew was that she had woken up in her own coffin, and she had been dead for months.
Author: Kat
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's sad really.
Pairings: Shades of B/A, B/S(dear my, can't believe I did it), S/Dru
Spoilers: The Gift.
Summary: Buffy's time in 'Heaven'. Post-Gift fic.
********************************************************************************
She was very confused when she first got there. There was the blinding light and a short flash of pain and then this, just a field that smelled like rain and flowers. A large expanse of grass that seemed to go off for millions of miles in every direction. Soft daisies and wildflowers embellished the rich green grass. She doesn't remember how long she had been there before she came to greet her. But all of a sudden she could see her mother, adorned in gauzy white, coming down the hill.
She gave her a soft smile that reached her eyes. "Oh Buffy, I hadn't expected you this soon."
And through her tears she called our 'Mommy'.
Her mother kissed her forehead and sat down next to her. "If I had known I would have been here sooner. If I had known." She started to weave the daisies into a crown of green and white and gold.
"Mommy?" she had asked, still confused. She fell into her lap and cried until she fell to sleep.
When she awoke it was not her mother who was holding her and stroking her hair. He looked very familiar, but so different. His hair was longer, and darker and the way he carried himself was infinitely less cocky.
"Spike?" she asked.
"Actually luv, it's William," he told her in a heavy accent.
"His soul."
He tapped her nose with the tip of his finger, "Always were a quick one." He stood and offered her his hand, "Up you go. We've places to be."
She looked up at him, confused yet again, but accepted his hand nonetheless. They walked in some direction, she couldn't quite tell which way they were going, and she was shocked when the field ended and she was suddenly inside a grand ballroom.
He was in a tux, much different than the earthy tones of his earlier suit. He offered her his hand in a gentlemanly gesture. She was about to protest that her clothes would prevent her from such a gala, when she looked down and saw that her clothes too had changed. She was now dressed in a long, dark green gown that belled at her hips and hung off her tanned shoulders. She gave him a smile and accepted his hand.
She knew how to waltz in this place, something she didn't quite know if she already knew. She lost count in her thoughts and tripped on his foot. She grabbed his shoulder, only to find that with the pressure his form molded to her fingers. "What?"
He gave her a knowing smile, "I'm not all here ducks. You see there's this little piece of me that's still in that body of mine." He leaned close to her ear, "That's why he can love you. There's just enough of me in there to give him human emotions. And maybe there's just enough of me in there for you to love me back." He spun her around and handed her off to another partner. She watched as he danced away with a dark-haired girl who wore blood red and black in an ancient design.
She looked finally at her own partner and a single word escaped her lips. "Angel." Her eyes suddenly clouded with worry.
He brought his lips down to meet hers in a soft kiss that lastly only a second or two. "Don't worry, I'm not dead." He gave her a half-grin, "Well, not dusted at least." She tried to laugh at his joke but found her agony had prevented even that. "I'm not all of him, just the parts that belong to you."
She danced with him the rest of the night. He spun her around and had dipped her in an eccentric manner. They had kissed and they had laughed and she clearly remembers being truly happy with him. There were others at the ball that she knew, Jenny Calendar and her sister-slayer Kendra. She danced with William a few more times and the silly half-demon Angel had worked with that she had only met once.
That's the part that confuses her the most. Her time there spanned only hours, a day at most. But the next thing she knew was that she had woken up in her own coffin, and she had been dead for months.