Author's Note: Some dialog taken from "After Life." Also, I wanted to give anyone who wants regular updates of this fic, and any futre ones the chance to contact me through the "Authors" page. Don't worry, I will continue to post here. In the event something unforseen happens here, as it did on another site on which I post, I didn't want anyone to be without their story fix. If you want updates directly to your e-mail, contact me, and be sure to put "Fic Update" in the subject line.

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Buffy closed her eyes. Angel had made some kind of mistake; that had to be it. He didn’t just say that her new baby and slightly less new, oh inappropriate humor in the face of tragedy, way to deal Buffy, husband was dead? No, it couldn’t be true. No, it wasn’t true. It just couldn’t be.

“No,” she said flatly, “You’re wrong.”

Angel’s voice cracked with emotion, “Oh, Buffy, I wish I was,” his hands shielded his eyes from the light he’d been so long without, “Maybe the Powers gave me another chance to prove myself. I only know I saw it. I watched him die,” Angel’s voice lowered to a whisper, “Buffy, it was horrible. He never recovered after you…”

“After I what?” Buffy hissed.

“Died,” he said simply.

Buffy huffed, pronouncing every word clearly and moving closer, so that he could see her more clearly, “Angel, you may have noticed. I. Am. Not. Dead. And neither is he. I would know it if he were.”
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IN THE INTERREGNUM-

After years of living with him, Buffy’d learned her share of British slang. She came down to check on his progress. She knew he would have rather been left alone; after all, being omnipresent was bad enough, but to be subjected to Angel’s special brand of self-flagellation, well that took him to a whole new level of Hell. She couldn’t leave him here to face that alone.

She had expected to hear some salty talk from him. Buffy was secretly glad that that was a habit not even this place could break. He just wouldn’t be him without it.

Still, if he wanted to stay on the Higher Plane, it had to be curbed somewhat.

So, imagine her surprise when instead of vulgarity, she heard endearments mixed with a little smugness, “You tell him, Love. Your Mums didn’t mix it up for nothing. It’s just like him to make assumptions. So many choices, so many ways it could turn out, and he thinks his is the only way,” Spike sighed, “Oh, what a berk!”

If she had known about her own personal cheering section back on the Hellmouth, she might not have felt so alone. But, thinking about it now, she had known. If only she had believed it. Things might have gone differently.

And now because of Joni, they still could.

Buffy took a special kind of delight in watching this. She herself still wasn’t used to watching different points in her life as if she were watching a movie. It still kind of gave her the creeps, sort of a strange sense of déjà vu. But he took to it like a duck to water. All that would be needed to make him more comfortable would be a box of popcorn.

The only thing that let Buffy know that Spike was the slightest bit perplexed by the goings on was his incessant pacing, “Spike,” Buffy said, giggling a little when he started at the sound of her voice, “Sorry. Did I scare you?”

Seeing the smile on her face, he chuckled at his own reaction, a little embarrassed. His eyebrow rose, “Believe it or not, yeah. His emotions are all over the place,” he sighed, “How was it that I wasn’t impaled on a Slayer’s stake a hundred years ago?” he walked over to Buffy, taking comfort in her warm embrace. He kissed her lightly, slowly running his fingers through her hair. He looked deep into her emerald eyes, “He’s all one, giant nerve ending. Everything is hard, and loud and bright. He’s like a skittish colt,” his eyes dropped, as emotions he’d forgotten flowed through him and his voice wavered, “The only thing that gives him focus is you,” his gaze rose to hers again, “I didn’t have that before. Thank you, Love.”

“You’re very welcome. I remember what that felt like,” she held his hand gently in hers, calmed and comforted by his presence, “It was the least I could do. You did it for me, I figured I’d return the favor,” Buffy was awestruck by the softness in his eyes. So much so that she nearly couldn’t speak, “Is he ready?” she whispered.

“No, but with your help, he will be,” he nodded, breathing in the scent of her hair and enjoying the blissful warmth her closeness gave him, “This is just a…well deserved rest. It’s something he needs, something I needed. I told you that. I remember. Just a little more time, give him a breather, yeah?” Spike shuddered as a feeling of peace spread through him and he drew Buffy closer to him. He knew it made no sense, but he suddenly felt an overwhelming vertigo. He closed his eyes and let the rush of feeling encircle him, “Oh, thank you, Love. You don’t know how much this means to me. I thought you couldn’t hear me. I was screaming, and you couldn’t hear me.”

Buffy was ashamed of how she’d behaved then, “I heard you,” she assured him, “ My heart heard you, but my head just didn’t want to believe what it was hearing,” she sniffed back tears as she nuzzled her head in his neck, “I’m so sorry. Maybe this will make it right?”

“Oh, it has, Love,” he whispered, “It has. Well,” Spike sighed as he reluctantly pulled away from her, “I’m off to talk to myself,” his eyes rolled, “Where’s Rod Serling when you need him?”

“Who?” Buffy asked.

Spike sighed again and shook his head. Smiling, he kissed her forehead, “Oh, never mind. Wish me luck?”

She grinned and nodded and patted his shoulder, “Luck.”
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OCTOBER 9, 2001- SUNNYDALE

Buffy leaned against the brick wall outside the Magic Box. He was so close, yet she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. If her friends knew where she’d been, if he knew where she’d been. She couldn’t tell them. They couldn’t know.

How could she tell him whom she’d been with?

She forced her eyes up to his face. He looked so concerned. If only he knew. No, she couldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t understand.

“…Or, if I can do anything for you.”

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe her. She knew he wouldn’t. He turned to lean on the wall next to her, “Well, I haven’t been to a Hell dimension just of late but I do know a thing or two about torment.”

If only he knew.

“Time didn’t mean anything there. Nothing had form, but I was still me, you know?”

He nodded his understanding. Of course he understood. She could see it in his eyes; in they way he stayed near to her. But he didn’t really know.

“…I was warm. And, I was loved. I think I was in Heaven. Now I’m not. I was pulled out of there, by my friends.”
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