DISCLAIMER: I don't own the rights to Buffy: the Vampire Slayer, Angel: the Series, or the people and places therein. I also do not own the character of Lucy Hannover. I've borrowed them to write this fiction, which is just that and not a way to try to steal money from Joss and company.
Now
He'd finally pulled himself to his feet after he'd finished crying over Buffy. He knew he needed to move on before sunrise. Not that he really wanted to be here; the place he'd been was much nicer than this. Not quite heaven, but not hell either, and definitely not those sodding ghost roads he'd heard about from the Scoobies. He knew it wasn't the greatest as far as eternal rewards went, but it had been better than earth, and a lot better than he deserved, and he'd like very much to go back there. But he didn't relish going out on a beam of sunshine again.
He looked around, and realized he was standing at the bottom of a crater full of broken timber, steel girders and parts of cars. The mud and rainwater were also making a hell of and impression on how soon he needed to get out--having to dig his way out of a muddy grave once in a lifetime was more than enough.
Problem was, he couldn't possibly climb the crater walls with all this rain either. He'd have to settle for high ground until everything dried out, and hope that he could find shelter from the sun in the process.
He didn't know how much time had passed in his search, at least one hour, but possibly more--his time sense was off--but he was beginning to believe that there was no high ground to be found in the crater. And the rain seemed determined to wash a good portion of the countryside into the crater on top of him.
Despair and hopelessness were just starting to set in when he thought he heard someone whisper his name. He whipped his head around sharply, but the driving rain cut his vision and he didn't see anyone. Chalking the event up to wishful thinking, he started picking through the rubble again.
The second time, his name was accompanied by a cold touch on his shoulder.
He yelped and whirled around to see his assailant--a young woman no older than Buffy drifting in the rain. He blinked rapidly several times when he realized she was a ghost. "What the bloody hell?"
The ghost smiled. "Spike, my name is Lucy Hanover. I've come to escort you to your destiny."
Now
He'd finally pulled himself to his feet after he'd finished crying over Buffy. He knew he needed to move on before sunrise. Not that he really wanted to be here; the place he'd been was much nicer than this. Not quite heaven, but not hell either, and definitely not those sodding ghost roads he'd heard about from the Scoobies. He knew it wasn't the greatest as far as eternal rewards went, but it had been better than earth, and a lot better than he deserved, and he'd like very much to go back there. But he didn't relish going out on a beam of sunshine again.
He looked around, and realized he was standing at the bottom of a crater full of broken timber, steel girders and parts of cars. The mud and rainwater were also making a hell of and impression on how soon he needed to get out--having to dig his way out of a muddy grave once in a lifetime was more than enough.
Problem was, he couldn't possibly climb the crater walls with all this rain either. He'd have to settle for high ground until everything dried out, and hope that he could find shelter from the sun in the process.
He didn't know how much time had passed in his search, at least one hour, but possibly more--his time sense was off--but he was beginning to believe that there was no high ground to be found in the crater. And the rain seemed determined to wash a good portion of the countryside into the crater on top of him.
Despair and hopelessness were just starting to set in when he thought he heard someone whisper his name. He whipped his head around sharply, but the driving rain cut his vision and he didn't see anyone. Chalking the event up to wishful thinking, he started picking through the rubble again.
The second time, his name was accompanied by a cold touch on his shoulder.
He yelped and whirled around to see his assailant--a young woman no older than Buffy drifting in the rain. He blinked rapidly several times when he realized she was a ghost. "What the bloody hell?"
The ghost smiled. "Spike, my name is Lucy Hanover. I've come to escort you to your destiny."
