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05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!


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Enjoy! I've been writing this during my vacation, hope you like it!

She woke up in a white room, lying in a bed. How long had she been sleeping? She didn't know. Her head ached, her body was covered with bruises and she had scratches in her palms.

The last thing she remembered was the memory, that had kept her thoughts concerned, that chased her in her dreams during sleep, not letting her forget what has happened. She had threw herself down that tower to close the portal to Glory's dimension, saving Dawn's life, offering her own to save the world.

She had fell lifeless to the ground and her friends had cried. Buffy, herself, was in darkness, alone, but she could still hear them, crying over her dead body. Her body felt heavy to the ground, no longer letting her move, and her senses weak.

At her funeral, she could feel their love, warming her cold body. She was still in darkness, lost. They buried her, down under the ground, she rested in her grave.

Then in her darkness, she felt warmth, she saw a gleam of light, a tunnel and she had followed the light, walked through it. The light had glowed stronger, the closer she came and she had seen a white temple before she had passed out again.

Spike had been hiding from the sunlight inside of his crypt during the funeral, mourning alone. At night, he had gone to her grave, laying next to it, whispering her name. Still, he could feel how deeply he had loved her, he had showed her his true feelings. He could still see her face in front of him and he remembered how soft her lips had been when she had kissed him. One kiss that had changed everything, that kiss she gave him for protecting Dawn from Glory. Buffy had put hope in his heart, maybe she had feelings for him.

He started crying, he would never find out now, she was gone.

Spike wished that he had bit her, then she would be dead, but in his arms. She could learn to love him, but she could maybe never forgive him for turning her, a slayer, into a vampire. But if, he thought, they could have been like he and Drusilla used to be, eternal lovers, inseparable. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

He had to see her one last time. He started to dig up her coffin, to kiss those soft lips again, hold her lifeless body in his arms. He opened the white coffin a little bit, waiting, suddenly feeling insecure. He closed his eyes, opened her coffin, but felt that something was wrong. He opened his eyes to find that her body was missing. He cried out in pain. He closed her coffin, then opened it again, to be sure, not trusting what his eyes had showed him. She still wasn't there. The closed the chest lid with a loud sound, jumping out of her grave, throwing the black soil over her white coffin, making it black, letting out his disappointment, filling the black hole.

He looked at her gravestone, touched it with his fingertips, sorrow in his eyes as he left, disappearing in the darkness of the cemetery, longing for her, his Buffy.

Buffy blinked her eyes, trying to get used to the white light, surrounding her. The whole room was white. She wore a white halterneck dress and her nails were painted white too. Someone had healed her, all the bruises and scratches had disappeared from her skin, but it was itching on her back, on her shoulders. It felt like small lumps, she could feel them, when she was trying to scratch herself.

A week later it really hurt, the lumps growing bigger, stretching her skin out.

One morning, when she woke up, she found a white feather in her bed. She let it touch her lips, feeling how soft it was. She realized that she was laying on feathers, they surrounded her in the bed. It took her a while to realize that she was laying on her wings, her white angelwings. They were still growing. She couldn't move them, it hurt. She was becoming an angel.

She heard that someone opened the door to her room and she found herself looking into the eyes of an oracle. The woman came closer, looking wise, wearing a white Greek dress, her hair curly and dark, her eyes sparkling.

“You seem to feel better now.” Her voice was soft.

“And your wings are evolving the way they should.” Buffy nodded.

“I´m so thankful for heeling me, for making me an angel, if that is what I will become...” Buffy hesitated, not knowing how to proceed.

“As an angel of the oracles, The Powers That Be, in our dimension, you will serve us, keeping an eye on the earth. I will train you.” The oracle smiled at her.

“I will learn you how to fly. But you must rest now, you are still weak and your wings need to get stronger. Can you move them?”

“I can't, the pain wont let me.”

The oracle touched Buffy´s wings, letting them heal a little, before she took her warm, soft hands away. The oracles hands seemed to glow. Buffy tried to move her wings and managed to create a small shiver in them. The oracle kissed her on the forehead.

“Try to get some sleep. I will check on you later.” The oracle left the room.

Buffy lay down in the bed, closing her eyes, her soul in safe hands, her destiny to become an angel. Resting from her duties being a slayer with the world on her shoulders.

But her heart ached after one person, a person she had loved, but she had hid her feelings deep in her heart, not letting herself fall in love with another vampire. She missed him, a wound in her heart, never leaving her mind. She didn't want him to leave either, clinging to the memory, keeping it in her heart.

Spike sat under the stars, looking at the sky, thinking of Buffy, trying to understand, dealing with her death, knowing that Dawn was alone. Well, she was with Tara and Willow, but her sister was gone.

He went to see Dawn, climbing in through her window, finding her in the bed, crying. He held her in his arms, sharing her pain.

“Dawn, it will be fine,” he promised her, not believing his own words.

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