Rating: PG
Feedback: That would be very nice, thank you. Melpomenethalia@aol.com
Spoilers: Up to "The Gift"
Distribution: Here. If you're interested, please let me know.
Summary: My take on what happened to Buffy after diving into the portal.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy. Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you. Thank you.
Part 4
Darla held a glass of water that had materialized from nowhere in front of the brunette's still-whitened lips, quietly urging her to take a sip. William continued to gently massage her shoulders in a soothing pattern until she was able to fully sit up on her own.
"Y'okay, Dru?" Harmony ventured to ask in a tentative, shaky voice as she timidly edged toward the other woman.
Drusilla reached over and patted the girl's hand in a comforting gesture. "Poor dear. You're still rather new to all this, aren't you?"
"Just about two Earth years exactly."
Drusilla gave her an understanding smile. "Why don't you go and do something to take your mind off things for a bit? Here," she said as a bottle of nailpolish the exact shade of her own violet fingernails was suddenly cradled in the palm of Harmony's hand, "consider it a gift."
The blonde's eyes lit up in spite of her previous terror as she started to shake the small bottle. "Thanks! I'll try to stop by again later. Oh, and Buffy, I'm really glad you're dead!" She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "That didn't come out right, did it?"
"I get the message, Harmony. Thanks."
Oddly enough, Harmony disappeared in a shower of pink and mint green bubbles.
"Nice girl. Not enough brains cells to fill a thimble, but then, that can have advantages," Darla drawled as the pastel bubbles popped in the ocean breeze.
"Look, I don't like to bring up an unpleasant subject, but, well," Buffy paused. "I'm still not sure I exactly get what just happened here."
"William, could you possibly explain it for her? I'm afraid I have to leave for a while. Darla, perhaps it would be best if you joined me?" Drusilla asked delicately.
"I'll give it the old college try, Dru, but you know I don't have much luck," Darla replied as she set down her cocktail in the sand and got to her feet.
"We'll return as soon as possible," the dark-haired woman told the Slayer as she and Darla slowly disappeared into thin air.
Buffy closed her eyes tightly and shook her head in an effort to clear her mind from all the sudden comings and goings. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get used to the idea of people and things just appearing and vanishing without warning. And as for Drusilla's episode, that was enough to make her hair stand on end just thinking about it.
When she opened her eyes once more, she found William looking at her with concern clearly visible in his sky-blue gaze.
"It's a bit much to take in all at once, isn't it?" he sympathized quietly.
"Yeah, well, I guess dying is kind of a big transition," Buffy replied with a smirk.
"I'll do my best to clear things up, but perhaps you'd care to retire to some place you'd find more comfortable?" he suggested.
"Like where?"
"Anywhere you please. You see, we have the ability to shape our surroundings to match our wishes. Up until now, we've provided you with environments of our choosing; the meadow is a favorite spot of Drusilla's, and Darla dreamed up this beach," William explained as he began busily tidying up the remains of the picnic.
Buffy slowly turned this over in her mind. "What if you're talking to somebody and one of you wants to be in the meadow and the other one on the beach?"
"We usually take turns. However, if one of us feels the need to be in a particular spot very strongly, we end up taking the other person with us." William had just finished folding the checkered tablecloth into a small square as he spoke.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "If you can shape your surroundings, why are you bothering to clean up? I mean, can't you just, you know, will it away or something?"
"Ehm, well, actually, now that you mention it, yes, I could," he replied with an unmistakable blush. "I'm sorry. You're quite correct. It's ridiculously foolish of me." The basket and tablecloth vanished in an instant, leaving only a visibly embarrassed William and an apologetic-looking Buffy occupying the beach. "I'm just a bit nervous is all. Drusilla usually handles these things and, well, there are other… factors."
"Forget about it," the Slayer said as off-handedly as possible, desperately wishing she hadn't said anything about it to him. The last thing she wanted to do was upset the decidedly kinder and gentler version of Spike. "So, all I have to do is think of a place and we're there?"
"Yes. It can either be somewhere you've been or an imaginary setting, but it's usually easiest to start with something rooted in reality," he replied, happy at the change of subject.
Buffy closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she and William were seated on the couch in her living room. Everything looked, felt, and even smelled exactly as it would if she actually had walked into her own home again, but she still had an awareness that she was creating the room with her own memories. Just to see if she could, she tried turning the paint on the walls to a deep forest green, and the color immediately filled the space.
"Excellent job! Now that you've made yourself at home, quite literally in fact," he smiled sheepishly as she groaned at his awful pun, "let's get down to details. I'm sure you're most concerned about why you're in Limbo to begin with, yes?"