Disclaimer: Not mine, yadda yadda yadda

Author’s note: Much huggles to BTL who beta’s magnificently.
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Chapter 51: Now that is just weird

Black, dark, cold, and a sense of nothingness. That was all it was. And it seemed to be passing very slowly, if it was passing at all. This certainly wasn’t the death that she thought she was going experience. Nothing in all her years alive prepared her for this. Anglicans’ didn’t believe in Limbo, so the belief system she had relied on in her childhood didn’t help her with this scenario.

Suddenly she felt pulled towards a light. She thought that that was a bit funny though, ‘cause she certainly didn’t think she’d be off to heaven, given all of her vengeance demonness.

When Buffy finally found herself in an actual place with lights, and walls, and furniture, she realised that it wasn’t heaven, and it wasn’t hell. It wasn’t good though.

“Angelus?” asked Buffy, her eyes wide as she glimpsed the first person in her view.

The brooding vampire looked at the former vengeance demon with shock. “Elizabeth?” he asked, uncertain.

Buffy looked around at where she was standing. The office like interiors didn’t give anything away. “Where am I?”

“Wolfram and Hart, my office,” explained Angelus, still confused. “And you do remember I’m called Angel now?” he continued.

“Huh,” intoned Buffy as she started to walk around the room, ignoring his question. “And just how did I get here? What happened in Sunnydale? How long have I been gone? Was I dead? Who raised me?”

“Slow down,” ordered Angelus.

Buffy turned and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to slow down. I’m a little bit confused here. I want answers.” Her voice was only slightly hysterical.

Angelus motioned her to sit down on a nearby chair and sat down on the edge of his desk. Buffy refused to sit.

“Spill already.”

“Well, Sunnydale is a big crater. I think you did that. Liz was broken up that you’d gone. It’s been three months since it happened. The survivors, they’re in Europe. I don’t know why you are here.”

Buffy nodded as Angelus spoke. Her mind drifted as the vampire went on about what he was doing at Wolfram and Hart as if to justify his actions having an office in the law firm. She didn’t care. She had one main thought on her mind.

Spike.
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Across the ocean Spike looked out his current home’s front window and at Dawn, who was chatting with some boy in front of the house. His mind had been focused on what they were saying and resisting the urge to go out there and rip the boy’s head off for looking at his Nibblet like she was a piece of meat.

Dawn had been furious when she’d woken up that morning three months ago. She’d screamed and cried until she was red and had no tears left. It was only when Anya had appeared and ranted about the fact that they didn’t have a phone installed in the house, and oh by the way they won, that the fighting between them stopped.

That’s when they knew for sure that Buffy was gone.

He’d done what Buffy had wanted, taken care of Dawn, set her up at school and the teen had actually started making friends again. They hadn’t stayed at Buffy’s house though. It was too close to Buffy’s life. It was too close to Christopher’s. Spike moved them to the one place that he thought the Immortal would never look for Dawn. Drusilla’s hometown, in the house where Dru grew up. It was intensely weird. Dawn didn’t seem to mind much.

Liz was in Italy, phoned every night, letting Dawn know how she was doing, but not wanting the responsibility of looking after her sister again.

Staring out at the boy, making eyes at Dawn, Spike’s attention was suddenly caught by a strange sensation, a feeling that he hadn’t felt since Buffy’d died. His gaze drifted from his great great great granddaughter to the sepia photograph of Buffy that he had sitting on the mantle piece of the parlour.

“Buffy?” he whispered into the empty room.

“Spike?” he heard back in his head, the feeling that she was smiling back at him lingering.

“Buggering hell!” he shouted. It was the house that drove Dru batty, not bloody Angelus.
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Buffy tried to reach out through her bond with Spike to make contact. He was there on the other end, but he didn’t believe that it was her.

Buffy looked back at Angelus and squinted menacingly. “Where is Spike?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” answered the vampire. “No one knows. He and Dawn disappeared. No one can get in touch with them.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you. Liz has to know where her sister is.”

“Liz and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” admitted Angelus.

Buffy smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. But I need to get in touch with her. I’m sure if you have an office in Wolfram and Hart, you can get her phone number. Isn’t there some demon that you can send?”

Angelus groaned and reached for his phone. “Harmony? Can you bring me Liz’s number?”

“So how’s Dru?” asked Buffy as she waited for this Harmony person.

“Fine,” he answered curtly.

“Hmm, ever the great conversationalist. I think I had more in depth conversations with you when you were trying to kill me,” she noted.

The door of the office opened and in walked a blond, chewing gum. She held out a scrap of paper to Angelus, who took it, looked it over, as if confirming it was in fact Liz’s number, and handed it to Buffy.

“Here,” he spat, obviously hoping that this would get his former nemesis out of his overly gelled hair.

“Thanks,” responded Buffy reaching for the paper.

Unfortunately something happened that neither one of them had been anticipating. Buffy’s hand went right through the paper, and Angelus’ hand.

“Oh this can’t be good,” Buffy moaned with a pout.
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Fred Burkel was a nice enough girl, pretty, unassuming and very genteel, but if she tried sticking one more thing through Buffy’s non-corporeal body she was going to lose it. Angelus had called on his scientist friend to find out why ‘Elizabeth’ was pass through-y. And that was why Buffy found herself in the lab with Fred.

“I just can’t figure it out,” said the scientist apologetically. “I really wish that I could, but...”

Buffy’s ears perked up at the word wish. She’d been out of that damn amulet for hours and she’d hadn’t even thought about Anya.

“You just made me remember something,” explained Buffy to the woman wondering why Buffy was suddenly happy.

“Blessèd be the name of Anyanka. I come in supplication. I bend as the reed in the flow of the rippling wave of vengeance. I come in the name of vengeance to call upon its mistress. Blessèd be the name of Anyanka, the name whispered in the name of revenge, vendetta, justice, retribution, vengeance,” Buffy chanted, surprising Fred.

With a puff of dramatic smoke, Anya appeared in front of Buffy with her demon face to greet whomever summoned her.

“What?” asked Anyanka annoyed, inspecting her nails. “I was about to get laid...” Anya stopped inspecting her nails to glower at the person who had chanted at her. A look of shock passed over her face. “Erixel?”

Buffy smiled and nodded, intensely happy that she had finally found one of her friends.

Anyanka reached out to hug her friend, but again, Buffy’s incorporealness got in the way. The Mistress of Arashamahar passed through her friend and landed up against the lab table. Anya turned with a start.

“Now that is just weird. What happened?” she asked Buffy.

“I popped out of the bauble from the Liz Taylor collection and found I couldn’t touch anything!” cried Buffy, feeling sorry for herself. “I even have Liz’s phone number and and I can’t pick up the phone to call her! Anya, do you know where Spike is?” she asked pitifully. “I really don’t like this!”

“I can’t figure out why she’s like this either,” noted Fred in a small voice, not really wanting to interrupt the exchange but feeling that she should contribute. She was in the room after all.

All Buffy’s pent up frustrations poured out of her; she really wanted a hug.

“I don’t know where Spike is,” said Anya sadly. “I could send out my minions, oh, err, demons...they don’t like to be called minions...to find them if you like. ‘Course you could get Angel to find them. He’s got the resources of Wolfram and Hart.”

“He doesn’t know either,” admitted Buffy. “Spike’s got to be hiding from the Immortal. I don’t want to find them if I risk Dawn.”

Anya nodded. “How is Angelus nowadays anyway?” asked Anya with innuendo dripping from her voice.

Buffy cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were about to get laid?” she questioned.

Anya sighed. “Yes, I was. Angelus is in the past. Don’t you ever tell Xander I once screwed the brooding wonder.”

“You are back with Xander?” asked Buffy, disappointment lacing her voice.

“Hey! No judging. He’s mine and you pined after a vampire for a century,” retorted the Mistress of Arashamahar. “If you aren’t careful I might just smite your ass.”

Buffy raised her hands in defence. “Sorry, I just am having a bad day. I wish...”

“Ooh! Hold on! I can’t do it!” exclaimed Anya.

“What?” spat Buffy, taken aback, blinking at her former boss.

“I can’t make you solid,” explained Anya.

“Hey, don’t I deserve vengeance? And hey! I’m human now! Scorned woman and all! The Immortal raped me and I don’t deserved to be solid so that I can get revenge?” asked Buffy

“Yes, you do. But this whole not solid thing? I don’t know how to make you solid; it’s not in my domain. Whatever has made you this way is much more powerful than little old me.”

“Little old you? Come on!” protested Buffy.

“I can’t do it. Sorry, but that is the way it is,” said Anya with a shrug.

“Can you at least tell me where Liz is?” asked Buffy defeated.

“Italy,” answered Anya. “She’s been dating the Immortal. Now before you get all huffy, he doesn’t know who she is. I think. They met at a bar.”

“So I guess it’s a bad idea to talk to Liz over then phone then,” said Buffy in a small voice.

“Yep. I’d concentrate on getting all solid like again,” suggested Anya. “It’s good you aren’t dead. I’ll tell Xander. Somehow, Liz will get the info. He and Willow talk to her every once in a while.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“And I’ll pop by from time to time. Until you get your pendant back, you’re free. Enjoy it!” added Anya, poofing out of the room.

“So that was a vengeance demon,” noted Fred. “Thought she’d be scarier.”

“I’ve known her for centuries, she is scary,” added Buffy. “Make me solid, please.”
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Fred was having dinner and Buffy really needed a break from the whole poking and prodding that Fred was trying to do. Fred had invited her to the lunchroom, but Buffy had declined. She was sure that being around food that she couldn’t eat was not going to improve her mood.

So she decided to roam the hallways. The last time she’d been in the offices of a Wolfram and Hart branch was when she’d found out about Noël’s death. She was certain that she was about to stumble upon something that was going to get her in trouble.

No one’s going to be afraid of a former vengeance demon turned Slayer who was stuck in a not solid body.

The floor that Angelus’ department inhabited was an intricate web of offices and conference rooms. Buffy passed through one door and found herself in the office of one Wesley Wyndham-Price.

Buffy registered the name as she passed through the door. Her first thought was that this was one of Reagan’s offspring. But then why anyone of Reagan’s family tree would be working for an evil law firm was slightly inconceivable. Hadn’t Reagan protested Christopher’s entry into the firm?

Buffy looked at Wesley Wyndham-Price and knew at once that he was a product of Reagan and Arthur. He was the spitting image of Arthur Price.

“You must be Elizabeth,” he said, putting down the text he was looking at. “Angel told me you’d be in the building.”

“Yes, that would be me. Elizabeth. Erixel, Buffy, I go by many names. My best friend Reagan Wyndham once named me Anne and tried to get me to be watcher. Of course it was a lot easier to infiltrate the Watcher’s Council at the turn of the century. Or, uh, the last century. I keep forgetting how old I am sometimes.”

Wesley stared back at her for a moment.

“You say that your best friend was Reagan Wyndham?” he asked.

“I believe she was your great great grandmother?” offered Buffy.

Wesley’s mouth hung open as if he was having trouble answering, only to be interrupted from not answering by a knock on the door.

The two persons in the room turned towards the door. The head that peeked in from the other side was not a welcome face in Buffy’s opinion.

“Drusilla.”
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tbc..