Suddenly, by the grace of God, Heathcliff and Cathy found themselves restored to their beloved moors, albeit without solid bodies.

"Heathcliff, Heathcliff, beloved!  We've come back!  We have another chance to live together on the moors!" With that, Catherine fell to the ground, attempting to scoop up handfuls of peaty earth to kiss, though it was difficult to accomplish without solid hands or lips.

Heathcliff squirmed, rather disturbed by his lack of physical existence.  "Erm… yes.  It's good to be back.  Especially with you, darling Cathy."

"Oh Heathcliff… give thanks!  This is the most blessed event to have ever befallen our wretched lives!"

"We're dead."

"Well… our afterlives, at any rate.  It's heavenly…"

"I thought you hated Heaven."

"You needn't ruin everything!" Cathy snapped indignantly.  Suddenly she sat up, eyes sparkling mischievously.  "Do let us go to Peniston Crags!"

Heathcliff smiled indulgently.  "Pennistowe Crags it is, Cathy.  Let us be savages forever.  And this time, please do keep your promise to be wild and untamed.  It's been too long since we last did this."

Struck by a sudden thought, Heathcliff looked down at the crotch of his pants.  He groaned.  "Damn it all."

"What is it?"

"This isn't heavenly, Cathy… it is just an extension of Hell.  You can see the moors through my pants.  I don't suppose this shall be very fun after all if my pants are see-through."

Cathy shrugged.  "Well, I guess there's nothing for it but to go to Peniston Crags with Edgar, then."

"Edgar's not here.  Edgar was never in Hell."

Cathy pouted in ill temper.  "Oh damn!  Are you sure your pants cannot be touched?"

"LOOK AT THEM!!" commanded Heathcliff, angry once more.  "Do they look like you could caress them with your soft, sweet… lovely… passionate touch…  Oh this is worse than Hell!  Your bodice is the same way."  Seeing her reaction, he said throatily, "Now, now… don't cry, or shall be forced to strike you, and the sensation of my hand going through your face and your face going through my hand shan't be very pleasant for either of us.  I'm sure we'll find a way to be wild and free soon enough, but for now, let us return to the Heights and see how things are left with it."

"It will never be the same, Heathcliff.  Though we may reclaim the Heights, we will never recapture those days of our youth.  They are gone forever."

"They were gone forever a long time ago… even when we were alive!" growled Heathcliff, "You threw them away when you married Edgar though you could never deny to my face that you loved me!  It is your fault that they are gone forever."

"No it is not!  It is your fault!  You killed me!" shot Catherine.

"No I did not!  You killed yourself!"  Heathcliff's voice took on an aggrieved quality.

"No!  You broke my heart!"  Catherine's tones were equally accusing and hurt now.

"You broke your own heart in order to try and break mine!  Let me tell you this now, Catherine Earnshaw: you succeeded!"

"Filthy wretch!"

"Spoiled brat!"

"God how I wish we could go to Peniston Crags…"

(Author's Note Being Disguised as a Disclaimer: There's not really that much to be disclaimed in this chapter, but to avoid confusing people who may not have read Wuthering Heights entirely [and I can't blame you, SparkNotes.com will get more business from me, next time!], Peniston/Pennistowe/Pennistone/Penistone Crags [and any other variation I might have forgotten] all refer to the same place, which is to say, a couple of rocks that reminded people living in the 1700-1800s of penises.  Thus, true to Wuthering Heights, any reference to said rocks is purely analogous to sex.)