He was there…except that he wasn't. Why not? He could see his golden girl, his Buffy, and fuck, she was lying over his body and crying. Buffy never cried, least of all over him. Something was wrong, and he was stuck with his body under her, and the rest of him in la la land.
He tried to move, tried to join his body, but was held back.
"Bloody hell, let me out!" He roared.
'Why?'
He looked around for the person speaking, but found no one. The voice sounded again, repeated it's question, and it sounded so familiar…
'Why do you want to go back, Spike?'
He looked up, and there she was. Standing, smiling serenely, looking for all the world exactly as she had looked the last he saw her. He found to his astonishment that he wasn't surprised by her appearance, rather content, as though he had been waiting for her to arrive.
"What's with the outfit?"
She laughed, a deep ringing sound within her chest, and placed her hands on her hips.
'What's wrong with it?'
"Well, it's simple, pet. You're a…what? An angel? Something like that? So shouldn't you be all dressed in white, you know, beautiful dress, halo, all that?"
'Well, don't believe everything you read, William. Jeans and a t-shirt can be very…heaven-ly.'
They shared a smile, and she plopped down next to him.
"You gonna help me get home, pet?"
'Are you sure you want to leave? This place has it's attractions.'
"Well I 'm sure it does pet, but I got a slayer back there crying her bloody heart out over my body. Can't get more attracting than that."
'It's not gonna be easy, you know. Things will change if you go back.'
"I don't care if the bloody grass turns pink, tell whoever regulates this to get off their bloody arse and let me go home!"
She smiled at him before standing and offering him a hand.
'I was hoping you'd say that.'
"Can't get up, ducks," he told her. "There's something holdi –" She grasped his hand and pulled him up to stand beside her. "Or that works."
'Bye, Spike.' She hugged him, and he let his head rest on her shoulder while she ruffled his hair. 'Take care of Willow for me.'
And with that, he was there, finally, totally home, with an armful of sobbing slayer locked to his chest.