Buffy raised her eyebrows as she stared at the leather-bound book.

“A guide to the afterlife? Psh…okay, if Michael Keaton shows up, I’m out of here…and since when do you have a last name, Mr. Pratt?”

Smirking, Spike shook his head at Buffy.

“Pet, you have to learn to appreciate any help that you can get…and of course I have a bloody last name. I did have a life before you, you know.”

“Yeah right.”

“Lots of people survived before your holy self came into this world.”

“Whatever. I appreciate help.”

“And that’s why the sodding book is still closed, right?”

Buffy scowled.

“I appreciate help that doesn’t make me read a giant book. Here,” she said, thrusting the book into Spike’s lap, “You read it.”

Spike sighed and opened the tome, reading aloud to Buffy so she could get the full effect.

“Dear Ms. Summers and Mr. Pratt, We would like to take this opportunity to welcome you to purgatory. The length of your stay, unfortunately, will not be regulated by any of Our actions, rather, by the actions of one of your closest comrades. We, The Powers That Be, are currently attempting to expedite your claim to the mortal coil, and your stay with Us in purgatory should not be too extended. Because of your sacrifices for each other (though, Ms. Summers, we did not expect this type of sacrifice for love from you at this time), We have decided to bestow upon you a gift upon your return to the mortal world.

“Mr. Pratt, as you have already received your soul, The Powers That Be have decided that the best gift to bestow upon you is that of light; you are now, and forever shall be, impervious to the harms of the sun. When you are closer to Ms. Summers, as We will explain in depth later, your natural defenses will increase, and you will be impervious also to the natural methods previously used to kill your kind. Each of you will receive the strength of the other, in essence, doubling your powers.

“Ms. Summers, your great powers as the longest-lived and most powerful Slayer have preceded you, and Our gift relates to this staying power you seemingly have achieved on your own. Your life shall become interwoven with Mr. Pratt’s, and you shall never age physically past your current self, and you, just as Mr. Pratt, will be impervious to death as long as the two of you are together. The sole downside, if one can call it that, is that if one of you is killed, the other will almost instantaneously follow; however, your interwoven souls will continue even in death, and you will return here, to spend eternity together in this home. We shall work on rebuilding Sunnydale as the two of you became accustomed to it, so your eternity will not be clouded by cabin fever. Within the pages in this tome, you will find explanations of your current situation, how to utilize the area which you are in, and how to effectively enter back into the world.

“Just a note on your current placement, as We did not expect Ms. Summers to join Mr. Pratt in purgatory: the accommodations We chose had to be revamped (forgive the pun), and We hastened to make each of you comfortable. If there is anything you need, food, clothing, lubrication, simply shout in an upward direction and your desires will be fulfilled in a timely fashion. You may also check on the lives of your friends and families by this method, though you must be in the living room so you may see their lives on the television We have provided. One may say, ‘Show me David Hasselhoff,’ though We cannot understand why, and one would be met with live streaming video of the actor. That being said, please do not ask to see Mr. Hasselhoff, as his shell is being worn by a very testy demon who refuses to appear on screen without payment. We are trying to fix the cable outlet to purgatory, so, until We do so (it is difficult to find a repairman in purgatory, as they either reside on Earth or in Hell), you will unfortunately only be able to see your loved ones, not hear them. So, enjoy the peace, pampering, and solitude that purgatory has to offer, as it will not last long.”

“How about some pants,” Spike asked, and was immediately wearing black jeans.

Spike glanced up at Buffy who was staring at the television, in awe.

“What do you want to ask, love?”

“Show me Dawn Summers.”

The television clicked on immediately, and, after a brief moment of white noise, Dawn’s visage appeared on the screen. She was laying on a large bed, sobbing. Giles sat at the foot of the bed, staring blankly ahead of himself. Dawn was clutching something to her chest as she lay in the fetal position on the bed. Buffy peered at the screen, trying to discern the pink amorphous blob in her sister’s arms. Spike put his arm around her shoulder.

“Mr. Gordo, right?”

Buffy nodded.

“Yeah…God, poor Dawn…but where the hell are they?”

As if to answer her question, Angel walked into the room, and squatted down in front of Giles. Whatever he said brought Giles from his daze, and the men stood and walked out of the room, leaving Dawn alone, in a sniffling heap, on the bed.

“That’s enough,” Buffy said to the ceiling, wiping the tears from her eyes.

The television shut itself off, leaving Buffy and Spike to sit in silence for a few moments before Buffy sighed and stood up.

“Do you want to spar downstairs? I could stand to burn off some steam.”

Spike nodded, and followed Buffy into the basement of her purgatory home.

“Always happy to help you burn off steam, Slayer.”

“You’re gonna pay for that, vampire.”

“Well, love, from what I understand, I’d like to be addressed as the ubervampire that I am now.”

“Ubervampire? Come up with that term all on your own, Spike?”

Scowling, Spike took a fighting stance before Buffy on the cold concrete.

“ ‘s not nice to make fun, pet. I think I’ll have to teach you a bloody lesson. Could we have some mats down here?”

The floor beneath them was suddenly covered in blue workout mats. Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Ooh, the Big Bad is afraid of a little concrete?”

“Not at all, love, just looking out for your precious self.”

A swift kick to his gut sent Spike falling onto the mats.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Buffy said with a laugh.

Cutting off her chuckle, Spike kicked Buffy’s legs out from underneath her, sending the Slayer sprawling onto the floor next to him.

“Welcome, pet,” Spike said, crawling on top of her and parting her legs slightly. “Now, aren’t you glad I got the mats for you?”

“Right,” she said, trying, in vain, to hide her arousal, “And they aren’t for you at all.”

“Well, it makes it easier for me to plow you without worrying that I’m hurting you.”

Buffy stared at Spike and flipped herself over so she was straddling Spike. She smiled coyly as she ground herself into his hard member.

“Again, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Slamming her mouth against his, consumed with an overwhelming passion, Buffy simultaneously stroked Spike’s tongue and cock with her tongue and hand, respectively. She freed his cock in one quick motion, and pulled her shorts to the side, hovering her slick opening teasingly above his member. Spike growled, staring into Buffy’s eyes in adoration as he thrust up into her. Throwing her head back in pleasure, Buffy rode Spike’s pulsing cock in rhythmic grinds. Caught up in the moment, Buffy allowed her natural impulses to take over, and she honed in on Spike’s neck, biting down as hard as she could, bringing a few drops of blood to her lips. This action caused Spike’s inner beast to take over, and he flipped Buffy over, looking in awe at her, his vampiric features fully prominent. She stared at him, her fingers trailing the bumps on his forehead lovingly, and she bared her neck for him.

“Bite me, Spike.”

Entranced by her words and actions, Spike forgot his usual restraint and thrust into Buffy as he pierced her neck with his sharp fangs. He drew a few deep gulps of blood before gently pulling back and staring into Buffy’s green eyes. Those same eyes soon rolled back in ecstasy as an orgasm pulsed through her; her clenching muscles wringing Spike’s end from him moments after. Spike lapped at her throat, closing the small wounds as Buffy lay, contentedly, beneath him. Resting his head on her shoulder, Spike whispered in Buffy’s ear, as the entwined their hands.

“You’re my girl now, Buffy.”

“Always,” she replied, her voice nearly failing her.

Post-orgasmic sleep overtook the pair, still wrapped in each other.

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