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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok folks, here begins the real story. Thanks for sticking with me and please let me know if anything is wrong or confusing.
“Who are you?” Spike asked.

“That’s not important. You can call me Messenger. Do you want to go back to her?”

“Yes! But I’m dead. Not even undead. How can I go back?”

“Do you wonder why you’re in Purgatory?”

“Well, yeah, my Soul – I mean, I figured it was because my good deeds were in balance with my evil ones. Can’t get into heaven or hell.”

“Not quite,” said Messenger. “You are in balance, true, but you are closer to heaven. If you were to go back to Earth, you would have a chance to redeem yourself. Normally the powers that be leave matters to themselves, but the world of good and the world of evil are fighting over you. You were both one of the most evil and one of the most heroic creatures to ever live, you –“

“I know the last part,” Spike said impatiently. “But how do I get back to Earth? To Buffy?”

“That’s what I was getting to. It has been decided by the Higher Powers Above and Below that you shall be sent back to Earth in your previous form. There you will continue until your next death. At that time, your soul will no longer be in balance and you will be properly placed in the afterlife world you belong in.”

Spike’s heart did flip-flops. He would be able to return to Buffy and Niblet! He even admitted he missed Giles and the Slayerettes too. He was going to have another chance, he –

“William!!! Pay attention!” The Messenger hissed. “You will be sent back to earth in your old form but both good and evil emissaries will be sent to influence you and your decisions. Decide soon where you want to go, and take care to avoid the distractions of the opposing side.”

Spike snorted. “Decide where I want to go? Who in the world would choose Hell?”

“Do not be too trusting in your assumptions. Things may not be what you expect and circumstances might cause you to rethink your options. Take my advice: make your decision and stick by it; this is your last chance.”

With that, Messenger snapped his fingers and Spike fainted.


Buffy sat on the floor clutching Spike’s jacket. She had cried every day like this for two years. Some days were better than others, but this was one of the worst. She had cried for days on end after his death. He had died believing she didn’t love him. But she, on the other hand, knew very well how deeply he had loved her. He had given up everything for her and her cause. And gotten nothing in return. He had even left her his precious jacket. She hadn’t noticed he wasn’t wearing it because he had been wearing a replica. It was the only thing of his she had left. Vampires couldn’t take pictures and he hadn’t been very materialistic. If only she could have shown him her love somehow. If only she could’ve gotten over her shame sooner and seen him for what he was.

There were a dozen if onlys, she thought bitterly. All useless. She had found some joy in her friends and their lives and the relative calm of the world since The First’s defeat (there were baddies, but none as fierce as before), but no personal peace. She felt that it had died with her one true love. Spike. She would just have to live with it. She owed it to him.

Her friends knew how she felt but they had long ago stopped bringing it up. Instead they worked to make her life as full as it could be. Now they all lived in London. Giles had set up a Slayer training facility here, and Willow a Witches Academy. The two corroborated frequently. Xander was a prominent builder in the area and had married a lovely girl named Evelyn just a few months ago. Dawn was at Oxford studying – of all things – history. As much as she had always complained about research, Buffy always knew she was fascinated by it and she couldn’t be prouder of her baby sister. As for Faith, she, like Buffy, helped Giles run Slayer Central and had settled with – yes settled with and married – Robin almost immediately after leaving Sunnydale. He too worked at Slayer Central, as head academic advisor.

Ring, Ring!

Buffy sighed and went to pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Buffy!”

“Hey Willow, what’s up?”

“We’re going to The Phase. Wanna come?”

“I don’t know Willow, I’m kinda tired.”

“Come on Buffy, it’s only for a little while and we haven’t all met up together for fun in months! Dawnie, Xand, Giles, and even Faith will be there! Please?”

“Alright, alright, Will,” Buffy laughed as she wiped away her tears. “I’m coming.”

“Yay! See you there! Eight?”

“Eight.”

Buffy looked around as she walked to the Phase. Not a vamp in sight. The Phase was a posh club, kind of like The Bronze had been, but better. Unfortunately, Buffy had ceased enjoying clubbing long ago. She had responsibilities now. It made her feel…weird.

“Oh Lord, I’m turning into Giles!” she thought horrified.

“Help..help me…” a voice cried weakly.

“Huh? What’s that?” Buffy snapped out of her thoughts.

“Help me…”

She followed the sound. A body lay in the dark alley near The Phase. Coming closer, she saw that he was a young white male with curly blond hair. A shiver went up her spine. “Why am I feeling so strange? she thought. I need to turn him over, see if he’s ok.”

She turned him over and gasped.

“Spike!!!!”

It was he. She had known it instinctively. She leaned down to feel his pulse. He was still alive. It was chilly, so she took off her coat and wrapped it around him. She noticed that his clothing was strange. He had on brown dress pants, a dressy collared shirt, and a brown vest. Glasses were tucked in his vest pocket along with some papers.

“That’s weird. She thought. “He looks like he’s from the nineteenth century.”

He started to stir.

“Spike?”

His eyes opened. She looked into their startling blue depths, awed and amazed at finding him alive.

“Spike?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s you, you phony! You made me think you were dead, you, you. …Meany!!”

Spike looked at her more intensely, puzzled at her words. He cleared his throat.

“Ahh…uh…Gentle Miss, you have me mistaken. My name is not Spike. I am William Gareth Morgan of the Manchester Morgans. Who are you? Where am I?”
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