The chapter title comes from a Dave Matthews song. No beta for this chapter either – if anyone gets inspired, let me know…
 
Disclaimer: Mr. Whedon lets me play with Spike. All hail, Mr. Whedon.
*****
Spike became aware again.
 
He remembered burning, then nothingness. Now he was aware. Everything around him was white. He seemed to be in a room, on a hard floor. There was no real temperature to anything. No sound he could identify. Nothing he could smell. Slowly he opened his eyes and sat up. He looked down at himself, dressed in his usual black on black uniform. He seemed uninjured. “Where the hell am I?” he muttered aloud.
 
“Not quite hell, yet,” replied a voice.
 
Spike stood and whirled around. A man in a gray suit stood behind him. The man was almost perfectly nondescript. Gray hair, gray suit, gray shirt, gray tie, gray shoes. And I thought I was monochromatic, thought Spike. “Who are you?” the vampire demanded.
 
“I am a sort of… conductor, you might say,” he answered. “I make sure souls get where they belong.”
 
“Is this heaven then?” Spike asked. Not the place he expected to go at all.
 
“More like the traditional concept of purgatory,” the Conductor replied. “You are here because we need your help.”
 
“My help?” Spike was truly confused. He had never given much thought to what would happen when he truly died for good, but generally expected guys with pitchforks. Now faced with this white room and this gray man, he didn’t know what to think.
 
“We have a soul here, destined for heaven, who won’t go.”
 
“And how can I help with that?” asked Spike.
 
“She’s been waiting for you. “
 
Spike stared. “Buffy?” he breathed. “She’s here?”
 
“She got here a short while ago. She refuses to go to heaven. She keeps saying she won’t go unless you’re there.”
 
“Take me to her,” Spike said, barely controlling his voice. Buffy would refuse heaven? For him? Was this some sort of trick?
 
The Conductor led Spike through a door into another white room. A small figure was sitting in a corner, curled up, blonde head resting on her knees. She started speaking before she lifted her head, “I told you I’m not interested… ”
 
“Buffy?” Spike hesitated.
 
The figure looked up. It was her. She was dressed in a white sweater and jeans – the same as when she fell from that tower. Her face slowly lit up with astonishment. “Spike?”
 
She got to her feet and made her way over to him, her eyes never leaving his. She reached up, hesitatingly, to touch his face, as if she thought he was a mirage. “You’re here,” she gasped. Then she flung her arms around him and clung to him like a drowning person. “It’s you. It’s really you. You’re here.”
 
Spike gripped her tight, marveling that they both felt as solid as they ever did. “Shh, love. I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair. She looked up then and pulled his head down into a deep kiss that went on and on, as if they had been parted for decades.
 
“Ahem.” The Conductor, all but forgotten, cleared his throat. The couple broke their kiss reluctantly, but remained in each other’s arms. They turned toward the man in gray.
 
“Mr. Pratt,” Spike sighed inwardly at hearing his given name. “Would you please explain to Ms. Summers that her place is in heaven?”
 
Buffy raised her eyebrows. Pratt? She had never known his last name. “Spike, where were you? How did you get here? I got here and they said you hadn’t left the earthly realm yet. What happened?”
 
Spike sighed, and ran his hand through her long hair. “After the hellmouth, I got sucked into that amulet somehow. I popped up in Angel’s office a few weeks later as a ghost. I kept walking through everything. I couldn’t leave Wolfram and Hart – I tried, and I kept being pulled back. When I finally got my body back – and no, I don’t know how that happened either – I left as soon as I could to come to Rome to find you.” His voice dropped as he added, “I missed you by three days, pet. I know, I should have called or something. But I was so afraid of being rejected, that I thought I would just show up. If I had known…”
 
“Shhh.” Buffy put her finger to his lips. “Doesn’t matter now. Just listen to me. I love you. I meant every word I said to you on the hellmouth. I will always love you.”
 
“Oh God, pet, I love you too. Always.” He kissed her again, tenderly. “When I read your note, found out what had happened, I just couldn’t stay in that world anymore. I... ”
 
“As I was saying,” interrupted the Conductor in an exasperated tone. “Ms Summers is destined for heaven. Her reluctance to allow herself to fulfill that destiny is most unusual.”
 
Buffy turned to look at the Conductor. “Where is Spike going?” she demanded.
 
“Mr. Pratt is unfortunately destined for hell, based on his past deeds as a vampire.”
 
“I pretty much expected that, pet,” Spike sighed, looking Buffy in the eyes once more. “But knowing you meant it will make it bearable… ”
 
“Out of the question!” yelled Buffy. She released Spike to go poke the Conductor in the chest. “He saved the world! He got his soul voluntarily! He fought for the side of good even without a soul! He gets no consideration for that?”
 
The Conductor looked flustered. “I do not make the rules, Ms Summers. Although his altruistic behavior of late has been noticed and will reduce the severity of his punishment somewhat, the fact remains that he has 100 years of murder and mayhem to answer for.”
 
“I am not going to heaven without him. End of discussion.”
 
“Buffy!” Spike couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This is heaven! Peace, rest, warmth, your mum – don’t give that up for me. I’m not worth it by a long shot.”
 
She took his face in her hands once more and kissed him. “You listen to me, William Pratt. I experienced life without you. It was hell. It was worse than when I came back from the dead, because I didn’t have you to pull me out of it. I was prepared to wait here for a hundred years until you got here. I am NOT leaving without you. If I am in heaven, knowing you are in hell, I will be in for an eternity of misery and I refuse to do it.” She turned to the Conductor. “I am not going without Spike,” she said with steely resolve in her voice.
 
The Conductor frowned. “I am going to have to consult with my superiors about this.” With that, he vanished, leaving the two of them alone.
 
“Buffy, you can’t do this. I won’t let you do this,” Spike pleaded. “You died because of me. Don’t give up eternity for me. I can’t bear it.”
 
Buffy kissed him again in response, long, slow and passionate. Then she said the last thing he expected at that time and place. “Claim me.”


 
Spike stepped back. “What?” he roared. “Are you mad?”
 
“No.” Buffy calmly stepped back up to him. “I want to tie your soul to mine. I want to be where you are. Wherever you go, I will go. Enough of this lying to myself and everyone else about what I want and what I feel. There is no lying here. I. Want. You.”
 
Spike saw, as if for the first time, the complete and utter determination in her eyes. She was serious. Absolutely and completely serious. Clearly, the girl must be out of her head. “You do realize that we are technically dead and all, right?”
 
“Don’t care,” said Buffy, stubbornly. “They set up all these stupid rules about who can and can’t go where around here, but I’m not playing. Even if nothing happens, even if we both disappear, let me give you this. Just let me show you what you mean to me.”
 
He found his reservations melting under her gaze. He never could say no to this girl. Still, he was hesitant. “Can we do that? Here? Is it allowed?”
 
“Only one way to find out,” she said. She tilted his head, and bit down on his neck as hard as she could. There was no reason why blood should well up from that bite. They were dead – this was the afterlife. But yet, she tasted the coppery tang of his blood and whispered, “Mine.”
 
“Yours,” Spike moaned, shifting into his gameface. He delicately sunk his fangs into her neck, similarly marveling at how this could be possible. He took two slow pulls of her rich blood and whispered, “Mine.”
 
“Yours. Always yours,” she replied.
 
Then everything changed. Spike felt like a wire had been plugged into his head and was feeding him all her thoughts, her feelings, her memories. Why did he deny that I loved him in the end? Lonely… so lonely. His arms around me. The abandoned house. God why did I treat him that way. He said I was the One. Oh GOD I miss him. Let me die please let me find him please. He staggered a bit under the onslaught. He never dreamed that anyone could feel that way about him.
 
Buffy had a similar reaction as Spike’s consciousness flooded into hers. Loved her so much. Never wanted to hurt the girl. Never wanted to leave. Will she want me back? Can’t bear the thought of rejection. Lost her again. Never see that hair, that smile again. Can’t bear it can’t bear it. She blinked hard. Had he really been so worried that she wouldn’t want him? After all they had been through?
 
They held each other and stared, blue eyes locked with green. They won’t separate us again, Spike, Buffy thought, and Spike heard every word as if she had spoken it aloud.
 
No, not ever, Spike agreed silently.
 
“Most irregular.”
 
The Conductor was back, his frown permanently attached now. “I am sorry, but there is just no precedent for a vampire entering heaven. It just isn’t done. I’m afraid you must go your separate… ” The Conductor stopped, then stared at them for a moment. “What have you done?”
 
Buffy spoke up, “We claimed each other.”
 
The Conductor’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “You bound your soul, for all eternity, to a VAMPIRE?? You? The Slayer? Warrior of the People? Do you know what you’ve done?”
 
“I’m pretty sure that what I have done is prevent you from separating us,” said Buffy, wrapping her arm tightly around Spike’s waist.
 
The Conductor sighed, “Then I’m afraid we’ve no choice. Ms. Summers, it seems that Mr. Pratt will be joining you… ”
 
Spike looked up. “You’re really going to let us stay together?”
 
The Conductor looked at them sternly. “Oh you’ll be together. In hell.”
 
Buffy and Spike’s eyes widened as the world fell away.
 
TBC