"Alright," Buffy sighed, pulling herself to her feet. Spike was right behind her and he pulled her close to him so that they wouldn't be separated. "Enough with the darkness. Flip on the light and let's do this."

More silence.

"Pet, maybe if you were a little nicer?" Spike suggested. He heard her immediately scoff. Nicer? That was just too rich coming from him. Nicer?

"Dammit! Show your glowy asses already! I need answers!" she demanded.

"Buffy, sweetheart," Spike persisted. "Flies. Honey. Catch more. Are you following me, Love?"

"NOW!!!!" she screamed.

He about fell over as brilliant light flooded his eyes.

"Bloody Hell! Give a bloke a break for trying to help!" he yelped as he was momentarily blinded by white light.

"Miss Summers, as always, such a pleasure to be summonsed by you." The voice surrounded them in echoing brilliance. It carried the thick, cultured sound of someone who was well-educated. And it was multi-timbred as if more than one person was speaking in precise synchronicity with the others. Of course the bloody Powers were well-educated, he thought. Omnipotent and all that rot. The voice also sounded unimpressed if not slightly annoyed.

"What is it now?" it asked.

"What? You give me this immortality and tell me that Dawn's the key to everything. You, of course, leave out the fact that Spike is alive, er uh... undead... here. That he survived the Hellmouth. You forget to tell me that," Buffy accused. "You don't get to keep butting into my life and then leaving me with more questions than answers!"

"And just why not, Miss Summers?" the voice asked, now sounding a bit amused.

"Because it's not fair!" she shouted. Spike held back a chuckle. She looked like a child. Her fists were balled at her sides. She stood on her tippy toes and he was sure she'd start stomping her feet in fits of anger any moment.

"Tah, Miss Summers," the voice called dismissively. Spike could imagine the big glowy hand that was brushing them off. "Life is not fair. Yet, there you are, on your third go-round. And now you have your vampire by your side, soul intact. Your sister is happy and healthy. Your friends have found peace and happiness in their own lives. You no longer have to fight the good fight each night. So, please do remind me what part of your life it is that isn't fair because I'm having a difficult time assaying it through your constant whines and shouts."

Buffy crossed her arms across her chest. No way was that glowy son-of-a-bitch going to talk circles around her and then dismiss her.

"Right, as I was thinking, sounds peachy to me," Spike offered in an attempt to calm down both the Slayer and the Powers.

"Oh, spare me the intervention, William," the voice scolded lightly.

"And what about when you're ready for it all to be over, Pet?" The voice was Spike's.

"That is what you said to Miss Summers, isn't it, William?" The voice was back to being the ethereal mixture of male and female timbres that it was before.

"Well, you have to admit, Ducks," Spike threw out nonchalantly. "It is a very legitimate question."

Buffy was still in front of him. He held her waist tightly, her back still to him so that they could both face the voice together. Her arms were crossed over where his rested about her. So nice to see them as a unified force, the Powers smiled.

"Yes, William. It is a legitimate question. And please, do not refer to me or my sister as 'Ducks.'"

Sister? Huh, the Powers give.

"Surely you know that we can not reveal to you your destiny. That would allow you to tamper with fate. And we certainly can not have any more of that."

And the Powers taketh away.

"The little incident with Miss Rosenberg and the resurrection spell... well, I will admit. That was quite unexpected. We truly did not expect her to pull that one off at all," the voice said sounding just a little bit chuffed with the outcome.

"You would have come back, regardless of Miss Rosenberg's meddling. Your work in your world was not done. And even He now realizes that, shirty as He may have been at the time. He does realize that even sometimes He must relinquish a bit of that omniscience for the greater good. And that, by the way, is the correct usage of the word shirty, Miss Summers," the voice informed Buffy.

Spike's brow shot up as he tried to suss out the 'He' to whom the Powers were referring.

"Not G--"

"Yes, Miss Summers. God," the voice concluded for her. "I must say, you certainly did surprise us when you figured it all out. My, my, my. Haven't you come a long way from the little girl who thought that the Turok Han was a disco singer from the 1970s!"

Were they making fun of her? Buffy couldn't believe the nerve.

"Alright, Miss Summers. Ask your questions. I can not guarantee that you will receive answers, but it certainly shall amuse us for the time being, yes?"

She wanted to kick their glowy asses... ass? Was there one or two? She was trying to pin down where they were. It was. Amuse them! And why was Spike laughing? She pulled out of his embrace and whirled around to cast an angry glare his way.

"I'm sorry, Pet," he managed between chuckles. "This is just unreal. Big room of nothing but white light and some sort of conjoined voice? You're not seeing any humor in this at all?"

"NO!" she shouted.

"They're right, Pet," he told her, looking into her angry eyes. His were soft and blue. "Can't get your knickers in a twist when you know bloody well that you'd try to tamper with any information they were willing to give you. You would have come looking for me had you known I'd survived. And maybe that wouldn't have given you the time you needed to heal."

"HEAL?" Her eyes were wide and dangerous. "HEAL? Is that what I did by becoming some sort of bookish yet slightly insane hermit? Did I HEAL?"

"Well, yeah. In a way. Maybe not the way that makes sense now. But it is apretty big universe. And there's more out there than just me and you. Other apocalypses to avert in other dimensions and all that rot. Just gave them a little time to decide what they should do, is all I'm saying. Plus, big meetings with the Big Guy who's nestled himself somewhere between the star nebulas? That's got to take some time, yeah?"

"Too smart for his own good," he heard the voice mutter. He couldn't help but smile.

"So, should we suffice it to say that Buffy's good as gold, her friends and family are on the right path to long and happy mortal lives and when the time comes, she'll be the first to know that it's done?" Spike asked.

"To meet your lack of eloquence with that of my own: Yes," the voice conceded.

"Right then." Spike reached for her hand and held it tightly. "Beam us up, Scotty."

"Just one more thing, William," the voice called to them. "You've yet to discover your gift."

Spike looked to Buffy and furrowed his brow. She shook her head indicating that she hadn't a clue what the Powers were talking about. No surprise there.

"And what would that be, Glow Worm?" Spike grinned.

A loud sigh was heard. "William, please. Enough with the pet names. They may be charming to your Slayer and other corporeal beings, but we really have no use for them here."

Spike cleared his throat and nodded. "Uh, okay. My gift, you were saying?"

And with that, they felt themselves being sucked back into their own dimension at lightning speed. They landed with a little more impact than they had the first time and he immediately heard Buffy scream.