Chapter 20
Buffy was not happy with the latest development. The light and heat was burning her, and she felt like she might burst into flames any second. She was concerned about Spike. She could handle this **effulgence**, but could Spike? Light was his natural enemy. He could be burning to a cinder right now, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She opened her mouth to shout his name, but the only thing that emerged was another white-hot beam of energy. She called forth all her strength as a Slayer to keep from panicking and to keep a level-head. Where ever she was, and whatever was going to happen, she would be fine. And so would Spike, because she was not going to lose him after all of the shit they've been through since she was raised from the dead.
Finally, the light subsided and she could open her eyes without feeling like her brain would boil in her skull. The fevered flush of her skin began to dull, and she felt the sweat trickling down her spine. Her eyes slowly began to clear and adjust to her new surroundings.
She inspected her hands like she had never seen them before. They were her hands, she was sure of it. They looked like her hands. The nails were covered with the same chipped red nail polish. She still had a freckle on her third finger. But the wounds and the scars were gone. Sure, scars healed quickly, but she had some from the past few weeks. Like, when she drove her fist through the wall in a fit of anger because her favorite shirt was wrinkled. But her hands looked clean and perfect. They weren't the hands of a Slayer.
They weren't the hard, calloused hands of a killer.
Using one of her fresh hands she reached up and rubbed the spot on her neck that sported the scars from the Master, Angel, Dracula, and most recently, Spike. Her skin was smooth. There was no raised car tissue. That's when she saw it.
Her hair was no longer the golden blonde she had favored for the past year. It was the deep brown, only a shade darker than Dawn's. The dye had bled from her hair, leaving the color that she had worked to destroy for years.
She attempted to walk, but her sure stride as gone, and she was left teetering on unsure legs. Tired and confused, she fought the urge to simply flop down on the ground and wait for Spike to find her. She wasn't going to just sit around like some simpering female. Time to explore.
She was slightly worried about Spike. If he survived that intense light, would he be changed too? Would that sexy scar on his eyebrow be gone? Would his hair be brown too? Would he still be a vampire?
This time when she opened her mouth to call for him, words did emerge, but at a very soft volume. It wasn't much more than a whisper. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force anything louder than that past her lips.
Buffy sighed, and looked around her, taking in her surroundings for the first time. Everything was a startling white. She seemed to be in some sort of garden. But even the trees and the flowers appeared to be white-or maybe the color was simply washed out. There were varying shades of white, the ground was almost gray. She was standing on some sort of path and the most logical thing would be to follow it. So she did.
She felt the insane urge to start whistling a jaunty tune as she skipped down the gray-brick road. She continued to try to force Spike's name past her lips as she walked, but still to no avail.
Buffy concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, her eyes scanning the surrounding area for Spike. She tried to reach him through the claim, but she couldn't feel him. She was truly alone in this bizarre, colorless world. It was so bright. She preferred the dark better. At least there, she was with Spike.
She stopped suddenly, realizing the implications of what she just thought. She'd rather be with Spike in the dark instead of alone in the light. The very thing she struggled so valiantly against. She broke up with him because she didn't want to be in the dark. She was so happy when she found out about his soul, because then she could love him, he didn't have to live in the dark. But what did it matter? Dark, light, right, wrong, she loved Spike and she wanted to be with him.
This thought increased her desperation to find him, and she somehow found the strength to call his name above a whisper. He had super-hearing, if he was around, he should be able to hear her heart beat, if not her voice. So engrossed was she with her thoughts of finding her vampire that she tripped right over him before she saw him.
"Spike! Oh God! Spike, are you awake."
He groaned, "I am now. What's all the shouting about?"
She couldn't believe that he was grumpy because she woke him up in this weird, washed-out world. "Uh, the fact that we're stuck in some bizarre dimension where everything lacks color?"
Spike looked around, "What happened to your hair, pet?"
She looked at a stray lock and grimaced. "Lost the hair dye."
"I think it's nice," he said casually, then looked around, taking in his surroundings. Buffy sighed with relief. He looked the same. He still had the scar above his eye, his hair was still a startling platinum, he still looked and sounded like Spike.
"Thanks," she said shyly.
"So, what now?"
"I think we're just supposed to keep walking." She held her hand out to help him up, but when he grasped it, he pulled her down on top of him. It occurred to her to struggle, but she really didn't want to. She melted happily in his embrace, returning his kiss voraciously. She had wanted to hold him so badly while they were talking, and being unable to touch him really drove her crazy.
"I was so scared," she admitted against his lips.
He pulled back slightly, "Why, luv?"
"The light, I thought it burned you," she explained softly.
"The light?" Spike asked confused.
"You didn't go through that amazingly bright and painful light?"
Spike shook his head, "No, I was in the dark until I heard you shout my name, then I opened my eyes, and here I was."
"Oh," Buffy replied, confused. "Uh, that's weird."
"Why?"
"Because I thought the light was going to burn me from the inside out."
"Is that what happened to your hair?"
Buffy shrugged, "Maybe. Probably."
Spike pulled back even further, and brushed some stray hair away from her eyes. He carefully examined her eyes, looking for any hint of disgust or regret, or fear, or loathing. He placed a feather light kiss on each of her lids. "You mean it then?"
"Why do you ask Spike?"
"Because of everything I told you..everything I said. You shouldn't love me Buffy."
It was still hard for Buffy to deal with the serious and sincere Spike. It always threw her slightly. Before it was uncomfortable for her to look him in the eyes, she was too frightened at what she might see reflected in those deep, blue depths. She was too scared of what she might fine-something beautiful and precious that didn't belong in a monster, something she wasn't good enough for.
He was the only spot of color in this world, and he contrasted sharply with his surroundings. His blue eyes, always intense, were even more so now. They were almost as blinding as the fire that tried to rip her into pieces. In the dark, in the light, it didn't matter. She needed him.
She smiled at him, "But I do, Spike. I really do. Now come on, let's figure who we have to kill to get out of here."
He smiled broadly and allowed her to pull him to his feet. "Right, let's go."
It seemed that as soon as they started walking they reached their destination. Their destination was apparently a large fountain that stood 40 foot in the air, and was easily 100 yards long, complete with marble statues of young women. But they weren't sexy, nubile nymphs. They were warriors. They stood in fierce stances, squinted eyes focusing on their prey, hands grasping swords, stakes, and crossbows. They were Slayers. Clear, clean, pure water cascaded past their unseeing eyes and unmoving bodies.
"Buffy, look," Spike said softly, pointing to the statue at the end of the line, closest to where they were standing.. The likeness was perfect, and it was impossible to deny that the final statue was her.
"What is this place?" She breathed.
"I don't know, pet, But I bet she does," he pointed to the black woman glaring at them.
"The First Slayer," Buffy said, not really surprised.
"Uh, pet? Why is the Good Witch here?"
"Who? Oh, Tara is her voice."
"Huh? How do you know that?"
Buffy smiled wryly, "Saw it in a dream once."
"Hello, Buffy," Tara smiled warmly. "It's good to see you again."
"Are you really here, Tara?"
She nodded, "I'm here as long as you need me."
"What about Willow?"
"She knows."
Buffy frowned, but was stopped from asking further questions by the First attacking Spike.
"Hey," she shouted, pulling the other woman away, "hands off of my boyfriend."
"He is dirty," Tara intoned solemnly. "Unclean. Unworthy."
Spike shot a hurt glance at Tara, but Buffy helped him to his feet and whispered in his ear, "Remember, she's the First Slayer's voice. Don't be upset at her."
Spike nodded as Buffy turned to face the source of her power. "He is not dirty, unclean, or unworthy. He is an amazing man, and I love him."
Then, the First Slayer surprised all of them by smiling. "Love is your gift," Tara said softly. "And now you must be faced with your destiny."
"What is my destiny?" Buffy demanded.
"To become a Goddess."
"I don't understand." It didn't matter how many times she heard it, or who said it, she still had a hard time grasping this fact.
"Lilith was the beginning of your World. I was Lilith's daughter-a Goddess in my own right, not just a demon. That's where I found the strength to fight. That is how you were able to defeat her, and house her essence. You are the strongest Slayer, stronger even than I." As Tara talked, the First Slayer slowly circled the two of them, who stood unmoving, only their eyes tracking her movements.
"Now it is time to complete that. You will become the Eternal Slayer."
Buffy reeled back, as if hit. "What? I don't want to fight eternally!"
The First Slayer shook her head, "You cannot stop it. It has already happened. Now, you must decide what to do with the vampire."
"Wait," Buffy said, "What about my friends and family? Do I have to leave them?"
The First Slayer growled, "You should never have had them. Slayers work alone. That's how it should be. You cannot return to them."
Buffy pulled herself to her full height and the power emanated off of her body, "You cannot stop me from returning to them."
She shakes her head, "No."
"I will not leave Dawn. Or Willow. Or Giles."
Spike smiles slightly. This is her determined voice. This is her bring-on-the-devil-and-all-the-armies-of-hell-and-you-still-won't-stop-me voice. Her will, determination, stubbornness, is one reason he loved her so much.
"Or the vampire?"
"I will never leave Spike."
"You cannot have them all."
"I can."
"We shall see."
Buffy was not happy with the latest development. The light and heat was burning her, and she felt like she might burst into flames any second. She was concerned about Spike. She could handle this **effulgence**, but could Spike? Light was his natural enemy. He could be burning to a cinder right now, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She opened her mouth to shout his name, but the only thing that emerged was another white-hot beam of energy. She called forth all her strength as a Slayer to keep from panicking and to keep a level-head. Where ever she was, and whatever was going to happen, she would be fine. And so would Spike, because she was not going to lose him after all of the shit they've been through since she was raised from the dead.
Finally, the light subsided and she could open her eyes without feeling like her brain would boil in her skull. The fevered flush of her skin began to dull, and she felt the sweat trickling down her spine. Her eyes slowly began to clear and adjust to her new surroundings.
She inspected her hands like she had never seen them before. They were her hands, she was sure of it. They looked like her hands. The nails were covered with the same chipped red nail polish. She still had a freckle on her third finger. But the wounds and the scars were gone. Sure, scars healed quickly, but she had some from the past few weeks. Like, when she drove her fist through the wall in a fit of anger because her favorite shirt was wrinkled. But her hands looked clean and perfect. They weren't the hands of a Slayer.
They weren't the hard, calloused hands of a killer.
Using one of her fresh hands she reached up and rubbed the spot on her neck that sported the scars from the Master, Angel, Dracula, and most recently, Spike. Her skin was smooth. There was no raised car tissue. That's when she saw it.
Her hair was no longer the golden blonde she had favored for the past year. It was the deep brown, only a shade darker than Dawn's. The dye had bled from her hair, leaving the color that she had worked to destroy for years.
She attempted to walk, but her sure stride as gone, and she was left teetering on unsure legs. Tired and confused, she fought the urge to simply flop down on the ground and wait for Spike to find her. She wasn't going to just sit around like some simpering female. Time to explore.
She was slightly worried about Spike. If he survived that intense light, would he be changed too? Would that sexy scar on his eyebrow be gone? Would his hair be brown too? Would he still be a vampire?
This time when she opened her mouth to call for him, words did emerge, but at a very soft volume. It wasn't much more than a whisper. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force anything louder than that past her lips.
Buffy sighed, and looked around her, taking in her surroundings for the first time. Everything was a startling white. She seemed to be in some sort of garden. But even the trees and the flowers appeared to be white-or maybe the color was simply washed out. There were varying shades of white, the ground was almost gray. She was standing on some sort of path and the most logical thing would be to follow it. So she did.
She felt the insane urge to start whistling a jaunty tune as she skipped down the gray-brick road. She continued to try to force Spike's name past her lips as she walked, but still to no avail.
Buffy concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, her eyes scanning the surrounding area for Spike. She tried to reach him through the claim, but she couldn't feel him. She was truly alone in this bizarre, colorless world. It was so bright. She preferred the dark better. At least there, she was with Spike.
She stopped suddenly, realizing the implications of what she just thought. She'd rather be with Spike in the dark instead of alone in the light. The very thing she struggled so valiantly against. She broke up with him because she didn't want to be in the dark. She was so happy when she found out about his soul, because then she could love him, he didn't have to live in the dark. But what did it matter? Dark, light, right, wrong, she loved Spike and she wanted to be with him.
This thought increased her desperation to find him, and she somehow found the strength to call his name above a whisper. He had super-hearing, if he was around, he should be able to hear her heart beat, if not her voice. So engrossed was she with her thoughts of finding her vampire that she tripped right over him before she saw him.
"Spike! Oh God! Spike, are you awake."
He groaned, "I am now. What's all the shouting about?"
She couldn't believe that he was grumpy because she woke him up in this weird, washed-out world. "Uh, the fact that we're stuck in some bizarre dimension where everything lacks color?"
Spike looked around, "What happened to your hair, pet?"
She looked at a stray lock and grimaced. "Lost the hair dye."
"I think it's nice," he said casually, then looked around, taking in his surroundings. Buffy sighed with relief. He looked the same. He still had the scar above his eye, his hair was still a startling platinum, he still looked and sounded like Spike.
"Thanks," she said shyly.
"So, what now?"
"I think we're just supposed to keep walking." She held her hand out to help him up, but when he grasped it, he pulled her down on top of him. It occurred to her to struggle, but she really didn't want to. She melted happily in his embrace, returning his kiss voraciously. She had wanted to hold him so badly while they were talking, and being unable to touch him really drove her crazy.
"I was so scared," she admitted against his lips.
He pulled back slightly, "Why, luv?"
"The light, I thought it burned you," she explained softly.
"The light?" Spike asked confused.
"You didn't go through that amazingly bright and painful light?"
Spike shook his head, "No, I was in the dark until I heard you shout my name, then I opened my eyes, and here I was."
"Oh," Buffy replied, confused. "Uh, that's weird."
"Why?"
"Because I thought the light was going to burn me from the inside out."
"Is that what happened to your hair?"
Buffy shrugged, "Maybe. Probably."
Spike pulled back even further, and brushed some stray hair away from her eyes. He carefully examined her eyes, looking for any hint of disgust or regret, or fear, or loathing. He placed a feather light kiss on each of her lids. "You mean it then?"
"Why do you ask Spike?"
"Because of everything I told you..everything I said. You shouldn't love me Buffy."
It was still hard for Buffy to deal with the serious and sincere Spike. It always threw her slightly. Before it was uncomfortable for her to look him in the eyes, she was too frightened at what she might see reflected in those deep, blue depths. She was too scared of what she might fine-something beautiful and precious that didn't belong in a monster, something she wasn't good enough for.
He was the only spot of color in this world, and he contrasted sharply with his surroundings. His blue eyes, always intense, were even more so now. They were almost as blinding as the fire that tried to rip her into pieces. In the dark, in the light, it didn't matter. She needed him.
She smiled at him, "But I do, Spike. I really do. Now come on, let's figure who we have to kill to get out of here."
He smiled broadly and allowed her to pull him to his feet. "Right, let's go."
It seemed that as soon as they started walking they reached their destination. Their destination was apparently a large fountain that stood 40 foot in the air, and was easily 100 yards long, complete with marble statues of young women. But they weren't sexy, nubile nymphs. They were warriors. They stood in fierce stances, squinted eyes focusing on their prey, hands grasping swords, stakes, and crossbows. They were Slayers. Clear, clean, pure water cascaded past their unseeing eyes and unmoving bodies.
"Buffy, look," Spike said softly, pointing to the statue at the end of the line, closest to where they were standing.. The likeness was perfect, and it was impossible to deny that the final statue was her.
"What is this place?" She breathed.
"I don't know, pet, But I bet she does," he pointed to the black woman glaring at them.
"The First Slayer," Buffy said, not really surprised.
"Uh, pet? Why is the Good Witch here?"
"Who? Oh, Tara is her voice."
"Huh? How do you know that?"
Buffy smiled wryly, "Saw it in a dream once."
"Hello, Buffy," Tara smiled warmly. "It's good to see you again."
"Are you really here, Tara?"
She nodded, "I'm here as long as you need me."
"What about Willow?"
"She knows."
Buffy frowned, but was stopped from asking further questions by the First attacking Spike.
"Hey," she shouted, pulling the other woman away, "hands off of my boyfriend."
"He is dirty," Tara intoned solemnly. "Unclean. Unworthy."
Spike shot a hurt glance at Tara, but Buffy helped him to his feet and whispered in his ear, "Remember, she's the First Slayer's voice. Don't be upset at her."
Spike nodded as Buffy turned to face the source of her power. "He is not dirty, unclean, or unworthy. He is an amazing man, and I love him."
Then, the First Slayer surprised all of them by smiling. "Love is your gift," Tara said softly. "And now you must be faced with your destiny."
"What is my destiny?" Buffy demanded.
"To become a Goddess."
"I don't understand." It didn't matter how many times she heard it, or who said it, she still had a hard time grasping this fact.
"Lilith was the beginning of your World. I was Lilith's daughter-a Goddess in my own right, not just a demon. That's where I found the strength to fight. That is how you were able to defeat her, and house her essence. You are the strongest Slayer, stronger even than I." As Tara talked, the First Slayer slowly circled the two of them, who stood unmoving, only their eyes tracking her movements.
"Now it is time to complete that. You will become the Eternal Slayer."
Buffy reeled back, as if hit. "What? I don't want to fight eternally!"
The First Slayer shook her head, "You cannot stop it. It has already happened. Now, you must decide what to do with the vampire."
"Wait," Buffy said, "What about my friends and family? Do I have to leave them?"
The First Slayer growled, "You should never have had them. Slayers work alone. That's how it should be. You cannot return to them."
Buffy pulled herself to her full height and the power emanated off of her body, "You cannot stop me from returning to them."
She shakes her head, "No."
"I will not leave Dawn. Or Willow. Or Giles."
Spike smiles slightly. This is her determined voice. This is her bring-on-the-devil-and-all-the-armies-of-hell-and-you-still-won't-stop-me voice. Her will, determination, stubbornness, is one reason he loved her so much.
"Or the vampire?"
"I will never leave Spike."
"You cannot have them all."
"I can."
"We shall see."