Rating: Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that
Feedback: Thank you kindly. Melpomenethalia@aol.com
Spoilers: Through season five's "The Gift"
Distribution: Here and eventually the Warren. If you're interested, please let me know.
Summary: Buffy jumped through the portal and died. But what happened to her next?
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story. I actually have most of it already finished; it's just waiting to be put up. I know the last few chapters were a little short, but this one is a little longer.
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 10"William! You look exhausted!" Drusilla cried as she rushed towards the other soul. Darla looked up from the couch and her face clouded.
"You got through, didn't you?" the blonde asked in a tone that said she already knew the answer.
William nodded before suddenly collapsing to the floor. He appeared to be unconscious.
"We need to get him out of here. Now." Darla's tone brooked no contest.
In the span of a single human heartbeat, they found themselves in a decidedly masculine, comfortable, book lined study with beams of sunlight pouring through large bay windows that looked out upon a windswept moor. William's frighteningly still form was draped over one of the soft couches upholstered in hunter green leather. Buffy knelt beside him, her features etched in concern.
"What's happened to him?" she asked the other two women.
"Spike must be in real turmoil," Drusilla replied as she gently sponged his forehead with a damp cloth. "Remember how I said that Darla and I attempt to influence our other selves?"
Buffy nodded.
"William has always had a more… direct link to Spike than either of us have to our old bodies. The connection between the two of them is very strong. When Spike used to feed…" Drusilla shuddered violently. "You remember how bad it was for Darla and me? It was about ten times worse for him. He'd barely get over the last time before the next one would hit."
"But on the up side, he hasn't had to deal with that for over a year now. And he's always been able to reign in his other self better than Dru and I," Darla explained as she massaged his feet. "Ever since the chip, the connection has grown, too."
William's eyes fluttered open briefly. He wrinkled his nose and burrowed into the cushions more deeply before turning his sky-blue gaze on the others.
"I swooned, didn't I?" he said with a note of disgust.
"William, dearest, don't berate yourself so," Drusilla admonished him. "You did what needed to be done. Anyone would tire."
He slowly pushed himself into a seated position and proceeded to drink from a large mug of hot chocolate that had spontaneously appeared. With a small pop, about a dozen miniature marshmallows were suddenly added as he sipped. William looked over the rim with surprise at Buffy, and she smiled warmly.
"My mom told me Spike liked them. I hoped you might, too."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled wearily and set the half-emptied cup on a nearby table. "Yes, that does happen to be one of the things we have in common. I've always had a monstrous sweet tooth. Funnily enough, it meant I had rather poor teeth as a mortal… something Spike has never needed to worry about."
"What happened down there?" Buffy asked quietly.
William sighed sadly and rubbed his head as though a migraine was stirring inside. "He was, indeed, contemplating ending his unlife. I believe he was planning on staying on your gravesite until sunrise. Some silly load of tosh about wanting to die with you. Honestly, all he was really doing was thinking of himself. So I made him think of someone else. Dawn."
"She's staying with Giles?"
"Yes. I managed to get him to go there. We're both really quite devoted to your little sister. He's sleeping on the floor in the hallway outside the door to her room. I don't think I'll need to worry about him doing something ridiculously insane again," William said as a table appeared in front of him, practically groaning beneath the weight of a succulent roast turkey, steaming mashed potatoes with melting butter, a plate full of golden beef pasties, loaves of tantalizingly scented fresh bread, and a full compliment of china and silverware for four. It smelled downright heavenly, Buffy thought with a wry smile. "We never did get to enjoy our picnic before. Please, eat up."
Until now, Buffy had completely forgotten her empty stomach. Now she realized she was, in fact, practically ravenous. The four of them dined pleasantly in the old-fashioned study, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace sending cheerful light dancing over the group. It was such a relief for Buffy not to worry about how much she was eating or fat or cholesterol. It was a completely guilt free dinner. At the close of the meal, William gave her a little smile and a huge slice of chocolate cake, dripping in hot fudge, smothered in vanilla ice cream, and topped with an enormous mound of whipped cream dotted with colored sprinkles, plopped directly in front of her.
"Don't worry. You can't get a stomach-ache," Drusilla mock-whispered conspiratorially as she proceeded to delve into a large piece of apple pie while Darla busied herself with a mammoth bowl of cherries jubilee and William nibbled a stack of oatmeal raisin cookies.
"You know, this Limbo thing isn't half bad," Buffy remarked as she brought a fudge-loaded fork to her mouth.
After eating, she felt surprisingly energetic. There was no post-Thanksgiving Day dinner heaviness, just a general sense of having eaten well. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and she was pleased to see William was looking far better than before. Unfortunately, the quiet moment was broken abruptly when both Darla and Drusilla suddenly stood.
"I'm afraid we need to be leaving again," Drusilla said quickly. "Please, don't get up. We'll return as soon as we can."
"Are you sure?" Buffy began, but before the words finished leaving her mouth, the two spirits had vanished, leaving her with no idea where to find them again. This left William and her quite alone once more. On an impulse, she asked him the question that had been bothering her.
"William, it's, you know, really great and all that you stopped Spike from killing himself, because he may be annoying but he's kind of grown on me and I feel safer knowing Dawn has him to protect her, but wouldn't it have been easier for you to just, sort of, let him go poof so that you can hitch the next ride out of here?" she managed to get out in one breath.
William looked a bit flummoxed, and, raking his fingers through his hair in a gesture she was beginning to recognize as signalling that the soul was feeling awkward, he began to sputter a reply.
"Darla has asked me that more times than I can count," he began. "It's just, well, Spike has a rather unusual opportunity. As do I. His demon has been muzzled very effectively by the chip, which means that…" He drifted off, trying to find the words.
Slowly, Buffy began to grasp what was happening. "Will, when I looked at the other Darla, she had a soul the size of Tinkerbell. Dru's was bigger, maybe five times the size, although it looked like a strobe light it flickered so much. Just how much taffy got left in Spike's wrapper?"