Rating:  PG, though not much objectionable actually happens

Feedback:  Thank you kindly Melpomenethalia@aol.com

Spoilers:  For “The Gift”

Distribution: Here.  If you’re interested, please let me know.

Summary:  Buffy jumped through the big old portal and died. This is my take on what happens to her next.

Author’s Note:  I started writing this over the summer… and quite honestly, I still am writing it.  Consequently, some of this doesn’t quite mesh with what Joss told us happened. 

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  To my poor, put-upon group of readers who have been waiting so dang long for me to get off my duff and finish this.

The Other Side

Part 1

Oddly enough, Buffy thought of when she was twelve years old and had gone scuba diving in the Caribbean with her father on a family vacation.  The sense of weightlessness, the odd blurring of sound, the rippling of images, and the strange hyper-awareness of each movement made her remember that experience vividly. 

Yes, dying seemed to be a lot like scuba diving, except, of course, for the blinding white light, the electric shocks traveling through her body, and the complete absence of any cute little fishies.  In addition to those insignificant differences, what she’d thought was mind-numbing fear at age twelve was nothing compared to how scared she was right now. 

For a split second that seemed to hold an eternity, the slayer saw the ground rushing towards her as the portal closed and she fell towards the earth.  Bracing herself, she prepared for the inevitable bone shattering impact, but it never came.  Instead, she suddenly found herself outside of her body, watching it land with a dull thud some twenty feet beneath her.  Almost immediately, the surrounding landscape of Sunnydale drifted away like fog in the morning sunlight and she found herself in the middle of a very large expanse of swirling violet mist.  Her feet appeared to be on something solid, but looking down she saw nothing but more of the same eddying light purple vapor.

“Um, hello?  Anybody here?” she called in alarm.  Shouldn’t she be seeing a white light or a tunnel or something by now?  “Anybody?”

“Not a bad exit,” commented an instantly recognizable accent behind her.  “I always did tink you’d last longer dan I did.”

Whirling around, Buffy was so relieved she almost felt like laughing. “Kendra!”

“Who were you expecting?  De Easter Bunny?” the girl replied casually.

Now Buffy really did laugh.  “Only if I was Anya and thought I’d ended up in hell.”

“Yes, I can imagine dat perfectly.  I’ve never quite understood her ting about rabbits.”

“You-you know Anya?  But how?  By the time she came around you were…” she stopped abruptly, not wanting to sound rude.

“Dead?  It’s all right to say dat here.  After all, you’re dead too, now,” she paused for a moment.  “Well, mostly.  But to answer your question, I keep an eye on how tings are going down der. You’ve done quite a job.”

It was at this point that Buffy realized something very strange.  Although she could hear Kendra perfectly well, she had yet to see her.

“Uh, where are you?” Buffy asked with a small note of nervousness in her voice.  She’d only been dead once before, and it hadn’t been for long, so this was all very new to her. 

“Well, der seems to be a little problem.  Notting to worry about.  It’s just dat you’re still somehow connected to de oder side, de world of de living.”

“So I’m not completely dead yet?” she asked in confusion.

“No, you’re dead.  Der’s no question aboot dat.  But der’s someting a little strange going on.  I’m not too clear on details, but I was sent to make you feel more comfortable here.  But, because of de circumstances, since I’m completely on de oder side of the boundary of life and death, and you’re not, you can’t see me.  At least, not yet.”

“So, basically, I’m stuck in the waiting room of the Great Beyond?”

There was an amused silence for a moment.  “Dat’s about de size of it.  But around here, we call it Limbo.”

“I guess seeing my mom is kind of a big no then too, huh?” Buffy said in disappointment.

“I am sorry, Buffy, but no, she cannot come to you just now,” was Kendra’s gentle reply.  “But she does send you her love.  She is very proud of you.”

“Is there anybody here that I know?  I mean, it’s really nice talking to you again, but I’d kind of like to be able to see somebody, if you know what I mean.  All this whirling purple stuff is making me crave Dramamine.”

“I can’t stay for very much longer meself, but yes, der are oders here.  We didn’t want to startle you by having dem be de first ones to greet you, but now dat you know der is notting here dat will harm you, dey will come forward.  I am glad dat I had de chance to know you as a friend, even if it was for a short time.  Maybe we will be able to speak again soon.  Goodbye, Buffy.”

The silence that followed the statement made Buffy feel even more alone than before for a few moments.  However, as she was just beginning to wonder if Kendra had known what she was talking about when she mentioned others, a change began to come over her surroundings.  As she watched, the mist began to twist itself into solid shapes and take on breathtakingly beautiful colors. Grey-green hills started to form in the distance, followed by a vast expanse of emerald, grassy fields dotted with colorful wildflowers and tall, graceful trees in full leaf.  The sky appeared overhead, the startlingly clear blue almost a shock, and cotton candy clouds of snowy white drifted lazily in a warm breeze.  As though in an afterthought, a river of sparkling, clear water began to run across the meadow before her, tumbling over rocks and making a cheerful burbling song.  A narrow stone footbridge suddenly sprang up across it, linking one half of the field to the other.

“Well, at least Limbo is pretty,” she said aloud. 

Suddenly, the Slayer became aware of three indistinct figures approaching her across the grasslands.  They were too distant to perceive clearly, but she noticed that they appeared to be human.  As they came closer, she was able to tell that there were two women and one man.  The women wore long, pastel dresses that seemed to float in the gentle breeze and changed colors from moment to moment, while the man, who walked between the other two, offering an arm to each, wore an old-fashioned suit of pale gray.  Although she was able to see their clothing fairly well, their faces remained oddly blurred.  When they reached the bridge, they stopped for a moment and appeared to have a brief conference.  Despite her intense curiosity, Buffy was unable to hear what they were saying.

Part 2

Finally, one of the two women crossed the bridge, while the other woman and the man remained on the opposite shore, apparently watching Buffy with keen interest.  The woman continued towards her, and the Slayer noticed that the slight figure was remarkably graceful and seemed to radiate waves of tranquility.  It wasn’t until she was a mere eight feet away that Buffy realized the other woman seemed to drift in and out of focus, almost as though she were standing on the opposite side of a glass panel with water cascading down it.  Her face was still completely obscured.

“Hi?” Buffy called out uncertainly. Even with all the bizarre occurrences of her life, this was still a bit out of her league.

The figure raised her hand in greeting. 

“Can you speak?”  she asked. 

The figure nodded her head.

“Well, then, why don’t you?” she asked again, starting to get a little annoyed.

The woman turned her head back toward the bridge as though looking for reassurance, and the other two figures nodded to her encouragingly. 

“Please, don’t be frightened,” spoke yet another instantly recognizable voice as the figure abruptly snapped into focus.

Buffy let out an audible gasp, then automatically dropped into a fighting stance.  “What are you doing here, Drusilla?”

“I have no wish to harm you, Buffy.  I’m not the Drusilla you know.”

Like a light bulb switching on, Buffy suddenly realized the truth.  “You’re her soul, aren’t you?”

The girl in front of her laughed a deliciously joyous peal of chuckles as she nodded.  “You’ve gotten it at once!  As you’ve more than likely figured out, I wasn’t evil at all in life, and the insanity cleared up as soon as I reached here.”

“And the other two?”

“They sent me ahead because I’ve been here the longest, so I’ve had a little more experience at putting newcomers at ease.  Come along, fraidy cats!” she called over her shoulder, her Cockney accent producing a surprisingly homey effect instead of the bone-chilling one Buffy was used to.  “It’s quite alright now!”

The other two figures crossed the bridge, but it still took Buffy a moment to recognize them, which wasn’t surprising considering one was someone she hadn’t known for very long and the other looked almost nothing like his current self.  Slapping her hand to her forehead in disbelief, she suddenly realized that they were none other than Darla and Spike.

“This is so not the welcome wagon I expected,” the Slayer said and she stared slack-jawed at the new arrivals.  “Wait a minute.  Darla’s been dead a lot longer than Drusilla, so how can Dru have been here the longest?”

“That’s actually a pretty interesting story,” the other blonde said in a slightly embarrassed voice.  “I’ve died twice, and the first time the accommodations weren’t quite so…,” she paused significantly, “picturesque, shall we say?”

“Twice?”  Buffy asked with curiosity. 

“I got called back.  It happens occasionally.  Not very often, but this time it worked out a little better for me, thanks to Angel,” she answered with a wistful smile.  “He really is quite something.”

Sensing that Darla had hit a nerve since Buffy’s eyes had narrowed and assumed a less than friendly glint at the other woman’s obvious affection for her former love, the only male present decided a quick change of topic might be in order.

“So, is everything quite to your liking here, then?” he asked softly.

“Aside from the fact I’m dead, stuck in Limbo, and extremely confused, everything is ginger peachy, Spike,” the Slayer deadpanned.

“I would appreciate it if you would call me William,” he requested gently. “I was never in the habit of, ehm, impaling people with railroading supplies.  But the confusion, well, perhaps we might be able to clear some of that up.  What’s troubling you?”

“Sorry, William,” she said, trying to adjust to the brown-haired version of her semi-ally.  He seemed so… nice.  It was almost disturbing.  “I guess the big question is, why am I here?”

“You’re dead,” Darla answered matter-of-factly. 

“That part I got, what with the swirling portal and the no longer breathing and the lack of heartbeat,” she responded, slightly annoyed with the other woman’s blasé attitude.  “I’m not completely stupid.  What I don’t get is why Kendra said I haven’t completely crossed over yet.  What am I doing in Limbo instead of, you know, the real deal?”

“That is a bit difficult to explain,” Drusilla mused thoughtfully.  “It might be better if we sat down for awhile.  Are you hungry at all?  The new arrivals usually are.”

“Now that you mention it, I could use a snack,” Buffy said, suddenly realizing her stomach felt like an empty football.

In the blink of an eye, Buffy found herself sitting on a red and white checkered tablecloth with her three companions.  The meadow had disappeared, and in its place was a smooth beach of sugary white sand that stretched as far as the eye could see.  Lapping against the shore were soft waves tipped in foam, borne in from the cobalt sea on a deliciously light breeze that was scented with vanilla.  The sky overhead had remained a lovely shade of summer blue, and the sun’s rays felt warm against her face.

“Egg salad or tuna fish?” asked Drusilla politely as she dug through a large picnic hamper that sat beside her.

Part 3

“Uh, I’ll take the tuna,” Buffy replied as she took in her new surroundings.  She also suddenly noticed that their clothing had changed as well.  She, Dru, and William were all wearing shorts and t-shirts, while Darla was decked out in a red bikini.  “You do realize that normally I’d be roasting weenies over all of you by now.”

“And probably me, too,” chirped a voice from behind her shoulder.  “Hi!  Oh my God, I love that color of nail polish, Dru!  It’s soooo pretty!”

“Harmony?” the Slayer enunciated slowly in disbelief.  She turned around to see the blonde sitting on the sand a few feet from her, a silver reflector around her face to catch the sun’s rays, garbed in a pink sundress and an enormous white straw hat that looked like it belonged in Gone with the Wind.   “You’re here too?”

“Sure,” she said, taking a swig out of a can of Diet Coke.  “I like the beach.”

“Harm, why do you drink that stuff?”  Darla asked in disgust as she stared at the can.  “It’s not like you need to worry about calories anymore.”

“Habit,” she explained happily, wiggling her toes in the sand.

“Whatever,” Darla said with a raised eyebrow as she sipped delicately from a long-stemmed glass that held a tropical-looking concoction, complete with exotic floral garnish.

“Sorry I didn’t stop by to say hi sooner, but I couldn’t decide what to wear,” Harmony gushed apologetically. 

“That’s… okay.”  Buffy barely managed to keep a straight face.  At least some things hadn’t changed. 

“Here you are,” Drusilla cooed almost maternally as she handed the Slayer an enormous tuna sandwich.  “If you’d care for some lemonade, you’ll… find… it…” 

Her voice trailed away as her eyes seemed to be focusing on something far away.  Her face blanched until even her lips appeared colorless.  In a flash, William was at her side, his hands cupping the back of her shoulders supportively just as the brunette began to scream in agony.

“It’s alright, luv,” he said in a consoling voice that could barely be heard amidst the woman’s shrieks.  “We’re here.  You’re not alone.”

Buffy stared in horror at the scene before her.  Darla, with a surprisingly compassionate look on her face, was gently stroking Drusilla’s dark curls back from her forehead.

“What’s happening?” Buffy cried in alarm.  Turning towards Harmony, she saw that the girl had her hands thrown over her own face in a futile attempt to block out the frightening events. 

“It’ll be over soon.  It’ll be over soon.  It’ll be over soon,” the former Cordette chanted to herself as she rocked backwards and forwards.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Drusilla’s eyes began to regain a sense of focus and her screams abated.  Exhausted, she slumped backwards, her head coming to rest on William’s shoulder, her hand firmly clasped in Darla’s.  After a few more minutes, she recovered enough to smile feebly at the slack-jawed Slayer.

“I’ll be all right in a bit, dearie,” she said in a labored voice as a single tear trickled down her cheek.  “This happens from time to time.  I was hoping I’d have enough time to warn you about it beforehand.”

“Am I… is that going to happen to me, too?” the Slayer asked tremulously.

“No,” William reassured her.  “You can put your mind at rest about that.  She, and Darla and Harm, for that matter, get like this whenever they…”

“Feed?”  Buffy finished for him.

He nodded silently.  “We’re still linked to our bodies back on the mortal plane.  It’s all rather complex.  Knowledge of what the other part of us is doing travels back to us here.”

Part 4

Darla held a glass of water that had materialized from nowhere in front of the brunette’s still-whitened lips, quietly urging her to take a sip.  William continued to gently massage her shoulders in a soothing pattern until she was able to fully sit up on her own. 

“Y’okay, Dru?”  Harmony ventured to ask in a tentative, shaky voice as she timidly edged toward the other woman.

Drusilla reached over and patted the girl’s hand in a comforting gesture.  “Poor dear.  You’re still rather new to all this, aren’t you?”

“Just about two Earth years exactly.”

Drusilla gave her an understanding smile.  “Why don’t you go and do something to take your mind off things for a bit?  Here,” she said as a bottle of nailpolish the exact shade of her own violet fingernails was suddenly cradled in the palm of Harmony’s hand, “consider it a gift.”

The blonde’s eyes lit up in spite of her previous terror as she started to shake the small bottle.  “Thanks!  I’ll try to stop by again later.  Oh, and Buffy, I’m really glad you’re dead!”  She pursed her lips thoughtfully.  “That didn’t come out right, did it?”

“I get the message, Harmony.  Thanks.”

Oddly enough, Harmony disappeared in a shower of pink and mint green bubbles.

“Nice girl.  Not enough brains cells to fill a thimble, but then, that can have advantages,” Darla drawled as the pastel bubbles popped in the ocean breeze.

“Look, I don’t like to bring up an unpleasant subject, but, well,”  Buffy paused.  “I’m still not sure I exactly get what just happened here.”

“William, could you possibly explain it for her?  I’m afraid I have to leave for a while.  Darla, perhaps it would be best if you joined me?” Drusilla asked delicately.

“I’ll give it the old college try, Dru, but you know I don’t have much luck,” Darla replied as she set down her cocktail in the sand and got to her feet. 

“We’ll return as soon as possible,” the dark-haired woman told the Slayer as she and Darla slowly disappeared into thin air.

Buffy closed her eyes tightly and shook her head in an effort to clear her mind from all the sudden comings and goings.  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get used to the idea of people and things just appearing and vanishing without warning.  And as for Drusilla’s episode, that was enough to make her hair stand on end just thinking about it.

When she opened her eyes once more, she found William looking at her with concern clearly visible in his sky-blue gaze.

“It’s a bit much to take in all at once, isn’t it?” he sympathized quietly.

“Yeah, well, I guess dying is kind of a big transition,” Buffy replied with a smirk.

“I’ll do my best to clear things up, but perhaps you’d care to retire to some place you’d find more comfortable?” he suggested.

“Like where?”

“Anywhere you please.  You see, we have the ability to shape our surroundings to match our wishes.  Up until now, we’ve provided you with environments of our choosing; the meadow is a favorite spot of Drusilla’s, and Darla dreamed up this beach,” William explained as he began busily tidying up the remains of the picnic.

Buffy slowly turned this over in her mind.  “What if you’re talking to somebody and one of you wants to be in the meadow and the other one on the beach?”

“We usually take turns.  However,  if one of us feels the need to be in a particular spot very strongly, we end up taking the other person with us.”  William had just finished folding the checkered tablecloth into a small square as he spoke. 

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.  “If you can shape your surroundings, why are you bothering to clean up?  I mean, can’t you just, you know, will it away or something?”

“Ehm, well, actually, now that you mention it, yes, I could,” he replied with an unmistakable blush.  “I’m sorry.  You’re quite correct.  It’s ridiculously foolish of me.”  The basket and tablecloth vanished in an instant, leaving only a visibly embarrassed William and an apologetic-looking Buffy occupying the beach.  “I’m just a bit nervous is all.  Drusilla usually handles these things and, well, there are other… factors.”

“Forget about it,” the Slayer said as off-handedly as possible, desperately wishing she hadn’t said anything about it to him.  The last thing she wanted to do was upset the decidedly kinder and gentler version of Spike. “So, all I have to do is think of a place and we’re there?”

“Yes.  It can either be somewhere you’ve been or an imaginary setting, but it’s usually easiest to start with something rooted in reality,” he replied, happy at the change of subject.

Buffy closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she and William were seated on the couch in her living room.  Everything looked, felt, and even smelled exactly as it would if she actually had walked into her own home again, but she still had an awareness that she was creating the room with her own memories.  Just to see if she could, she tried turning the paint on the walls to a deep forest green, and the color immediately filled the space.

“Excellent job!  Now that you’ve made yourself at home, quite literally in fact,” he smiled sheepishly as she groaned at his awful pun, “let’s get down to details.  I’m sure you’re most concerned about why you’re in Limbo to begin with, yes?”

Part 5

Buffy nodded in reply.  “I haven’t crossed over completely is what Kendra said.  Is it for the same reason you and the others are here?”

“Not exactly.  Bother, this is all rather complex.  You haven’t studied Plato by any chance, have you?” he asked hopefully.

“No, sorry,” she apologize, wondering if even in the afterlife she was going to get in trouble for not paying attention in Philosophy class.

“He’s not the most thrilling writer, anyway,” William said to her kindly.  He took a deep breath and dragged his fingers through his longish brown hair in frustration as he tried to think of a simple way to explain interdimensional dynamics.  Inspiration struck him so quickly, he actually leaped to his feet.

“Taffy!”

“Taffy?  Who’s he?  I don’t think I’ve read anything he’s written either,” Buffy said, wondering if he was going explode in excitement.

“No, no.  The candy!  Please, pardon my outburst.  You’ve eaten taffy, haven’t you?”  he said as he sat down next to her again. 

“Well, yeah.  I guess so,” Buffy said, wondering if he’d gone insane.

“Well, the soul is actually a lot like taffy.  When you’re living your mortal life, it’s like the taffy is still in its wrapper.  The wrapper is what everyone sees,” he said, unconsciously clasping her hand in his as he spoke, “just like when you’re alive, what you see is the physical, mortal substance of life.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got you so far,” the Slayer said as she began to roll the idea around in her mind. 

“The thing is, what actually makes you who you are is the soul inside:  the taffy, if you will.  If you were to go into a store and buy a pound of candy and all you got was a pound of packaging, you’d think yourself cheated.” 

“Sure.  I wouldn’t really be getting anything,” she agreed.

“On the other hand, if the confectioner plopped a pound of taffy into your hand without any wrapper at all, that wouldn’t be any good either,” he continued, his eyes lighting up happily as he saw she was beginning to understand.

“No. That would just be weird.”

“That’s how it works in the physical world, as well.  People can’t just be souls bouncing around down there.  Hence, they have bodies,” he explained triumphantly.

“Okay.  So, body dies, it’s like the wrapper gets yanked off the taffy?”  Buffy ventured carefully.

“Precisely!”

“And the taffy gets eaten?”  she asked, slightly horrified.

“Well, no, the parallel rather breaks down there.”  William deflated a bit at this.  “The taffy usually either winds up someplace quite wonderful or someplace highly unpleasant.”

“But we didn’t.”  The blonde chewed her lip thoughtfully.  “I mean, Limbo’s pretty and all, and I’m really, really happy I didn’t wind up you-know-where, but, come on, I jumped through a portal to my death in order to save the entire known universe.  I’d kinda think that was a Get Into Heaven Free card.  And you and Dru seem nice enough.”

He noticed that she left Darla completely out of the equation, but he said nothing about it.

“Well, in the case of someone who dies through siring, there’s a bit of a glitch, if you will.  The wrapper isn’t merely thrown away but gets filled with something else, something that makes it look like the taffy is still in there when in fact…” William began.

“It’s not,” Buffy finished.

“Yes and no,” he said, surprising her.

“But vampires don’t have a soul.  Except for Angel, of course.  Giles has said so more times than I can remember.”

“When a demon takes over a vampire’s body, it’s a little like the taffy has been left out in the sun all day.  When it’s opened, most of it comes away from the paper, but a bit of it gets, for lack of a better word, gummed up in the wrapper and sticks there,” the blue-eyed man said sadly, a far off look in his eyes.

“You’re telling me vampires have souls in there?  Oh my God.  No wonder I’m in Limbo.”  Her eyes filled with horrified tears at the idea.  “Dracula is right; I really am nothing but a killer.”

“No, no, dear heart!  It’s not like that at all,” he exclaimed gently as he grasped her hand.  “What you’re doing is getting rid of the demon that’s holding that completely helpless piece of a soul prisoner and allowing it to rejoin the rest of itself in Limbo so it can go to its final home.  You can hardly have any idea how happy they are to move on.  After only a short time here, you’re anxious to leave.  Poor old Bertie was stuck here for about five hundred years before he got to go home, and it was you who sent him there.  I’ve never seen a spirit look happier.”

“Bertie?”

“His vampire called himself the Master,” William said dismissively.

Buffy stared at the man as though he’d gone out of his mind.  “His name was Bertie?”

“Not too fear-inspiring, is it?  Probably why he never used it.”  He gave her a smile that lit up his entire face, and, in spite of herself, Buffy couldn’t help noticing that, dead or not, William was pretty easy on the eyes.  She blushed slightly as she realized he still held her hand, and she rapidly drew it away as she fumbled for another question.

“Why does part of the soul stay behind when there’s a demon in there?”

William hadn’t missed her momentary distress and, being the Victorian he was, he immediately started to internally berate himself for encroaching upon her personal space too much.  “We’re not exactly sure.  It seems to have something to do with the soul knowing the body is still walking around and part of it thinking it has to be in there.  Of course, more or less taffy can be left on the wrapper, if you understand.”

“Not really.”

“Some vampires have more of a remnant of a soul in them than others do.  We’re not certain why, but in a few cases, the demon in the vampire can be influenced by the soul.  Not controlled, precisely, but swayed, at times.  That’s where Drusilla and Darla are now,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the floor.

“Huh?”  It wasn’t the most intelligent reply, but it summed up her confusion quite nicely.

“In addition to being able to create our own surroundings, we can also return at will to earth.  Our influence is rather limited, but we do what we can when we see an opening.  If you like, we can go see them.  It may help you understand better,” he suggested.

Buffy thought about this for a moment.  Who knew what kind of disgusting things the vampire half of Dru and Darla might be doing at that moment.  Still, it did sound interesting.

“Okay, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she found herself in the last place she expected.

Part 6

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Buffy said disbelievingly as she took in her new surroundings.  “Drusilla and Darla are in Las Vegas?”

“You sound surprised,” came Darla’s voice from just behind her, making her jump.  “It’s actually a vampire’s paradise:  high crime rate, the turn-over is constant so there’s less chance of being recognized, nightlife is the norm, and the casinos have no windows.”

“When you put it that way, it sounds like I was working around the wrong Hellmouth,” the Slayer muttered to herself.  “So what are the other Darla and Dru doing here?”

“Ehm, well,” Drusilla had appeared at Darla’s elbow and was starting to blush rosily, “they’re working as entertainers.”

“Entertainers?  As in strippers?”  Buffy asked with a blink.

“No.  They haven’t sunk quite that low.  Yet.  Darla sings torch songs in a bar and Drusilla gets all gussied up in sequins and abbreviated Lycra in one of those tacky chorus girl shows.  They don’t really need the money; I think they’re just bored—which is dangerous,” Darla responded frankly, a note of concern creeping into her voice.  “I’m starting to suspect that Darla’s plotting something, but I don’t have the vaguest idea what it is.”

“Drusilla in a chorus line.  I’m trying to picture that and failing, which might be a good thing,” Buffy chuckled.

“I don’t think the job is going to last very long.  She keeps forgetting the steps and crashing into the other girls,” Dru said almost apologetically.

For just one moment Buffy allowed herself to take a step back from all that was happening in order to fully appreciate just how weird being dead was turning out to be.  She was about to comment on this to William when she realized with a start that he was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, geez, I did it wrong, didn’t I?” the Slayer thought out loud.

“Hmm?” asked Darla in a semi-interested tone.

“William.  I think I left him behind when we came here,” Buffy responded with a shake of her head.  Alive, she’d never managed to get a driver’s license.  Apparently, being dead hadn’t helped her ability to get people from one place to another.

“No, dearie, you did just fine.  He just had to be somewhere else at the moment,” Drusilla said with a frown.  “And I’m afraid it might be quite an important appointment he needed to keep.”

“You guys can sense where the others are?”

“Nope.  Just Dru.  She may be dead, but she’s still got that whole psychic thing going,” Darla answered as she scanned the crowd, apparently looking for someone.  In another moment, her eyes locked on a figure across the room in the crowded bar where they stood.  “There I am.”

Buffy turned in the direction of Darla’s gaze and caught sight of a blonde figure who was utterly identical to the spirit standing next to her except for her clothes.  The other, obviously vampiric version, dressed in a skintight cocktail gown of champagne-colored satin, was standing on a small, raised stage about thirty feet away, wrapping up the final bars of Johnny Mercer’s “Stardust.”  With a small nod of approval, the Slayer noted she didn’t have a bad voice.

“That’ll be the end of the set,” Darla said as she began to stride quickly across the room while her vampire self exited behind the excessively gaudy stage curtain.  It wasn’t until now that Buffy noticed the other woman was actually walking directly through some of the living people in the room in order to get to where she was going.  None of them seemed to notice.

“Just a normal part of being on this end of things,” Drusilla told her as she put a motherly arm around the other girl’s shoulders.  “I know it’s a bit startling at first, but the living don’t feel us unless we want them to.  Well, except for those who have the sight, but they’re quite rare.  You’ll probably be able to sense them.”

Buffy gave herself a little shake and forced herself to try to accept just how different things had become in the last few hours.  “So, where is Darla going?”

“She’ll try to influence the demon inside her body.  I’m afraid she hasn’t had much success where that’s concerned, but she does keep trying.  Was that why William suggested you come here, to see the connection between our soul-selves and our physical bodies?”

“I think so.  You mean that Darla’s about to…” she broke off tentatively.

“I’m afraid so.  It’s usually between sets,” Drusilla answered the unasked question.  “Are you sure you feel up to this?  It isn’t a very pleasant sight.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve rapidly become used to, it’s unpleasant sights,” Buffy declared with more determination than she actually felt.  After all, she had no possible way of defending whomever Darla’s intended victim might be. 

“All right, then.  But you’d best move your level of vision first,” Drusilla suggested casually as she began to lead Buffy in the same direction Darla had taken, completely ignoring the presence of any humans or objects in her way.

“My what of what?” the blonde asked with a slightly weary sigh.  Did being dead have to be so confusing all the time?

Drusilla stopped short.  “William didn’t explain to you about the difference between the material world and the spirit world?”

“Oh, he did that.  Taffy and everything.  I get that.  Well, mostly,” the Slayer told her.  “It’s kind of complicated, though.”

“But he didn’t mention that you can see both of them, if you wish?” Drusilla asked with a little smile.  Taffy?  He had to be the strangest soul she’d ever met.

“No.  He kind of left that part out.”

“Well, it’s quite easy.  As you’re looking around now, you can see all the things that exist in the physical world, including human bodies.  If you concentrate, you can switch your sight so that instead of seeing what the average human does, you can see the other side of things, rather like a seer.”

“I’ll be able to see everything’s soul?” Buffy said with a raised eyebrow. 

Drusilla paused, considering. “Well, that’s roughly it.  Go ahead and give it a try.”

Closing her eyes, she centered her mind on the idea of taking the wrapper off the taffy.  Slowly, as though a veil were lifting over her mind’s eye, she became aware of a difference in her senses.  When she slowly lifted her eyelids, she was both nearly dazzled and deeply confused by the strange pictures that greeted her.

Part 7

Buffy’s eyes opened on a room that was strangely blurred.  While she could tell that the objects in the bar were still there – the chairs, the tables, the floor and walls – it was as though a scrim of gray veiling had been rested over the surface of every thing in the room.  Reasoning this out, the Slayer came to the conclusion that this was because things didn’t have souls.

The people present, on the other hand, were changed so much as to be unrecognizable.  Features and forms were completely obscured, leaving a soft radiance in their place.  Each one glowed with a depth and intensity of light all his or her own.  No two were alike, yet there was something strangely similar between them all. 

She glanced towards Drusilla, hoping for an explanation, and was startled to find not the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman but a brilliant glow of golden light.  Glancing around the room once more, Buffy realized her companion was one of the brightest souls in the room, perhaps even the most dazzling of them all.

“You… you’re…” the Slayer started to stammer in wonder.  “Wow.”

“Quite,” Drusilla voice said with a lilting chuckle.  “But before you become too impressed with me, perhaps you’d best take a look at yourself.”

Buffy moved her hands in front of her face and was shocked to see blazing light, intense as…

“’It’s brighter than the fire,’ I believe she said,” Drusilla chuckled quietly.  “But come now, we’d best see what Darla has been able to accomplish.  I hope she’s had more luck than usual.”

The two followed the direction Darla had taken, Buffy still half-mesmerized by her new view of the world.  In mere moments, they had passed through a stage door and out into an alley behind the casino, where a truly bizarre sight met their eyes. 

Not one, but two struggles were taking place.  The one that would have been obvious to mortal eyes was the vampire Darla pummeling a rather fat, greasy, flashily dressed middle-aged man.  However, what would have been missed by the majority of humans was an even more surreal display than an attempted biting.  Darla’s soul was glimmering just behind her vampire, repeatedly trying to pass through its body in much the same way that she would pass through a wall.  But the vampire itself… Buffy shuddered.  It was a dark gray form, devoid of the beauty present in the humans she had seen, although when she looked at it closely enough, it did have what appeared to be a single spark of light fluttering around the area where the heart must be.

Darla’s soul was uttering some decidedly non-mystical language as she was thrown out from the vampire’s form time and again.

“Let me in!”  she shrieked angrily, and Buffy experienced yet another shock as she realized Darla was practically in tears.  “That’s my body you’ve got, and I’m saying stop it!”

The single, firefly-like light in the vampire’s body drifted as close to the rest of itself, for the Slayer had already realized it was the part of Darla’s soul that had become trapped, as it could, straining desperately towards her.

It was too late.  As Dru and Buffy looked on in helplessness, the vampire succeeded in draining the man.  As the light began to separate from the victim’s body, Darla howled aloud in anguish, obviously experiencing the same pain that Drusilla had earlier.  In a flash, both of the other females were at her side, attempting to comfort her.  Suddenly, it no longer mattered that Buffy didn’t particularly like the other blonde.  Darla’s suffering both terrified and saddened her.

As this was taking place, the light that had been inside the man’s form detached from the body completely, leaving an empty, gray-veiled object lying on the equally gray alley’s ground.  Slowly, the disembodied light faded away, much as Buffy suspected her own had when she’d found herself in Limbo.  The vampire turned to go, but was suddenly joined by yet another dark-gray form.

“That’s the other me,” Drusilla explained softly as she and Buffy continued to softly support Darla’s light with their own radiance.  It was obvious the experience had drained her terribly.

The Slayer looked at the second vampire and immediately noticed a substantial difference between her and Darla.  Instead of a single spark, Drusilla’s vampire retained a ball of light the size of a fist, but it crackled and sputtered strangely, sometimes growing slightly larger, sometimes dimming down to a mere candle flame.

“There’s more soul in yours,” Buffy remarked in puzzlement.  “But it’s…”

“Flickering?  That’s the insanity.  I may not have it anymore, but since that piece of my soul is still inside a human body, it’s as broken as ever it was,” Drusilla murmured sadly.  “I can’t even try to join with it like Darla does.  Instead, I work through, well, an intermediary of sorts.”

“An inter-what-iary?”

“I have to try to approach my soul through another source.  Since it can’t understand me on its own, I have to speak to it in a roundabout way.”

The Slayer was just about to ask what she meant when it dawned on her exactly what Drusilla was talking about.

Part 8

“You talk to her through her doll, don’t you,” Buffy ventured tentatively.

“Yes.  In a way, you could say that I am Miss Edith,” Drusilla said as Darla managed to support her own weight again.  The experience of the feeding was still making her queasy and weak, but she was starting to recover.  “Unfortunately, even that way, things turn out rather garbled.  As often as not, when I tell her something she doesn’t want to hear, she just pouts that I’m ‘speaking out of turn’ and ignores me.”

The three souls were now leaving the alley and meandering down the Vegas Strip.  It was quite an interesting trip, to say the least.  Glitz was completely stripped away, and instead, all Buffy noticed were the lights of the human souls around her.  After awhile, she became aware of yet another strange occurrence.

“Some of them are brighter than others,” the Slayer remarked as she studied the passing figures.

Darla nodded in response.  “They’ve all got souls, but some of ‘em are stronger than others.  It varies from minute to minute, too.  Try looking at the scene over there with regular vision first.”

Concentrating once again, Buffy closed her eyes and opened them on a none-too-pretty view.  A heavily made-up prostitute boldly flirted with a man in a business suit, a group of suspicious-looking teens hung around the entrance to one of the casinos, and a family of four strolled the sidewalk, eyeing their surroundings with distaste.

“What do you see?” the blonde asked Buffy quietly.

“Hooker.  Probably a gang.  Vacationers with ‘mug me’ practically tatooed on their foreheads,” she replied.

“Now try looking again, this time the next level up,” Darla suggested, a knowing smile crinkling her eyes.

Taking a moment to change her viewpoint, Buffy was stunned.  The brightest soul on the sidewalk belonged to the prostitute.  The others all had varying degrees of darkness, but the so-called “gang” seemed quite angelic compared to the benign-looking family’s mother.

“Not always the way you think it’s going to be, is it?” Darla murmured as she reached out a tendril of her own light and used it to gently caress the streetwalker’s aura in passing. 

“No, I guess it isn’t,” the Slayer agreed quietly.

“I’m growing concerned about our William,” Drusilla suddenly interjected.  “He’s been gone a terribly long time.”

“Have any idea what’s up with him, Dru?”  Buffy asked, the nickname slipping off her tongue as though the two had been friends for ages.

“I have my suspicions.  It most likely has to do with, well, the recent events in Sunnydale,”  Drusilla tactfully suggested.

“You mean me dying?  What would that have to do with William?”

“You know, for a kid who managed to survive a lot longer than most Slayers, you’re not too bright sometimes,” Darla said with a roll of her eyes.  “Think for a second.  What happened the last time Spike lost somebody he loved.”

“You mean when Drusilla left him?  He got all gloomy and depressed and then he tried… to…”  Her words drifted off as she remembered Willow telling her that the witch had walked in on Spike attempting to stake himself.  “Oh, geez, you don’t think the bleached idiot  would do something, well, idiotic?”

The other two females exchanged looks that did nothing to reassure her.

Locking eyes with Drusilla, Buffy half begged, half demanded “Where is he?”

“Giles’s home.  But Buffy, I don’t think it would be wise for you to…”

The rest of Drusilla’s words were lost as the sheer force of Buffy’s will transported the three of them back to Sunnydale.  When her hazel eyes opened, the first thing they beheld mystified her completely.

Part 9

Buffy squinted at the scene before her and became even more confused.  She was obviously in Giles’s living room, that much she could tell.  But there only appeared to be one person present, and she’d never laid eyes on him before.  Even more bizarre was the fact that Buffy was still viewing the world from the level of souls, and the man, instead of appearing as a bright light, looked perfectly normal.  He was standing next to a bookcase, peering at the titles with an interested look on his face.

“What the…”  Buffy began, speaking to Drusilla, who had appeared at her shoulder, but to her amazement, the man turned around at the sound of her voice.

“Hey!  You gotta be Buffy, right?” the man asked as he grinned broadly and walked across the room, passing directly through the table.

“Uh, yeah, that would be me,” Buffy responded carefully, looking to the other two spirits for reassurance.  Attempting a quick test, Buffy returned her vision momentarily to the physical level, and the stranger disappeared from her view completely.  Whoever he was, a normal mortal wouldn’t be able to see him.  

“He’s just a ghost,” Darla explained in a mildly bored voice.  “They don’t look the same as us because they still feel more connected to the regular, humdrum, physical world than the next level up.”

“So, he’s not quite human, but he doesn’t want to be a spirit, so,” Buffy tried to follow the reasoning slowly.

“So I can hear everything you’re saying,” the man interrupted with a slightly annoyed tone.  “I have stuff I still need to do down here, so I still look, for all intents and purposes, like a human to you.”

“Sorry.  Didn’t mean to be rude,” Buffy apologized.  “Guess I’ve just gotten used to no one being able to hear me.”

“Ah, it’s okay.  By the way, the name’s Dennis,” the ghost said as he stuck out his hand.  The Slayer shook it uncertainly.  “And you two other lovelies would be…?”

“I’m Drusilla and that’s Darla,” the brunette replied in a friendly voice, gesturing towards Darla, who had now taken up residence on the couch.  “How is it that you happen to be here?”

“I room with Cordelia.  She’s in town for the funeral with the rest of the L.A. crew,” Dennis told her.

“My condolences,” Buffy offered sympathetically.

“But you’re the one who died,” he said bemusedly.

“No, about you having to live with Cordelia.”   Buffy smiled as he rolled his eyes comically.  Suddenly, she remembered why they’d arrived in the first place.

“Where’s William?” she asked quickly, glancing around as though she expected to see the now familiar spirit perching on the kitchen counter.

“Upstairs, I believe,” Drusilla said quietly.

In a flash, Buffy whipped up the staircase only to run directly into a very weary William, his soul wonderfully bright, but seeming almost to sag somehow.

“You okay? ” she asked gently, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, I believe everything will be fine now,” he said in a tired voice. 

“What are you doing here, though?  I mean, weren’t you supposed to be with Spike?”  Buffy questioned him.

“I brought him here.  It was the best place for him.  He’s asleep now, thank goodness, although it took long enough,” William said as he plodded wearily down the stairs.