B/S anyone old enough to watch the show can read this
Disclaimer- all belongs to Joss
Post Gift Fic (how original!)
Tell me what you think
That murky moral quagmire
"Just bloody wake the hell up"
Buffy could hear the annoying English voice clearly in her mind… oh great; I can't even escape him in death. She really didn't feel like opening her eyes, everything had been so serene in the calm of her "sleep". Before she'd crumbled on the ground in sacrifice, she had smiled, thinking of a reunion with her much-missed mother.
"I have got other chores to get through today as well you know…" She could hear him whining.
"Bleeding heck…. BUFFY!"
Her eyes flew open at the pain searing across her jaw where he'd punched her. She dazedly watched her surroundings spin into stillness; a completely blank white room dominated by a glowering figure dressed entirely in black, his blue eyes exasperated and lips clinging to a cigarette that sent smoke spiralling up to the…. Ceiling? Well the place where there should have been a ceiling… only there was merely endless white. Well this isn't how I imagined the afterlife
His heavy boots crossed the space between them and her eyes snapped back to Spike.
"Spike, just go away. Why are you here? Where's my mother? I am dead… right?"
He didn't answer, simply taking a drag of the cigarette sharpening those impossible cheekbones. His eyes were narrowed slits of blue and Buffy felt a wave of renewed fury course through her. She flipped onto her feet in automatic fighting stance.
She kicked his legs from beneath him, causing him to crash to the white below. She planted her own small foot firmly on his chest not allowing him to rise.
"Now you gonna tell me what's going on Spike?" She demanded as he scowled up at her.
"We're going to look for your soul. We have to find the frigging thing so you can go back."
"What?" Now I'm confused. I am my soul surely. I've done the being dead bit and now I am just a soul… a soul in an afterlife Buffy body. Wait, why would that be? I don't really understand this afterlife stuff.
While Buffy's mind was whirling with the concept of her own soul, Spike had lifted the boot digging into his skin and placed it gently on the white.
Buffy gazed blankly at him. "Wait, you weren't trapped then were you?" She said slowly.
"Yeah but it was kinda sexy all that violence." A smirk.
"What are you doing here Spike? Really?" Her voice wasn't confident and assured, but in its own quiet way begged the truth.
"I'm not Spike. People around these parts tend to call me William… you know? Spikes soul."