The Ghosting: A Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel Fanfiction
By Azurite
BtVS and Angel do not belong to me *sniffles*. They belong
to Joss Whedon, devilish genius that he is, Kuzui Enterprises,
Mutant Something-or-other... ^^;; etc. etc. etc.
This ficcie here is based on my rampant thoughts of how Joss
would write the new season for Buffy on the new station--UPN.
At least it's UPN for me... anyways, it's got spoilers for
"There's no place like Prtz Glrb" and whatever the finale was
for Buffy on the WB... ^^;
Episode 1: A Hotel Haunting
It's not exactly a cup of Earl Grey when you wake up... dead. Sounds
weird, right? Well, get used to weird. That's my life. Or at least,
it used to be. I'm dead, remember?
Okay, if anything I remember my mom taught me, it's manners. Introduce
yourself, airhead... ahem.
My name is-- or was-- Buffy. Buffy Summers. Silly name, and yes, I *am*
from California. I'm not *really* an airhead. People who've dared to
call me such a thing just because I'm from L.A. have found themselves
sprayed with holy water or otherwise in excruciating pain.
You see, I am-- or again, was-- the Slayer. You know, the Chosen One,
meant to prevent the Apocalypse, save the world, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Since I turned 16, I've been fighting off demons. Vampires, gods, you
name it. My Watcher --the guy in charge of me and my arsenal-- was
Giles. Rupert Giles. He was actually my second watcher, because my
first one... well, let's say he's not around anymore. In any case,
I'd been fighting everything, but fighting gods was pretty new in
my book, even for a Slayer who'd lived as long as I, had the help
of great and unusual friends, and was sitting on the Hellmouth of
the planet.

The god's name was Glory. A hell goddess, to be precise, kicked out
of Hell because she was some kind of power-tripper. Locked in a human's
body, but able to regain control every so often. I didn't know that
this human -a guy I'd actually made *friends* with, when my mom was
in the hospital- was Ben. He's gone now, and so's Glory. Beat her.
But at a price. She wanted back into her little hell world, and to do
so, had to sacrifice *my* sister.

Again, interjection time. She -Dawn, that is- isn't really my little
sister. She's what's known as "The Key". A big mass of energy that,
when drained of life and blood, opens the portal to all the other
dimensions. And hell is a big place-- so if it, along with all those
other dimensions and Alternate Hellmouths opened up here, there'd be
big trouble. Suffice it to say, I couldn't let that happen.

It was pretty safe to assume that, as long as I kept Dawn away from the
place where she was supposed to be sacrificed, at that time, then Glory
and her minions couldn't do anything. Dimensions would stay put. But
even after I defeated Glory, and my whole Scooby Gang was out of it--
even Vampy Spike, who has this tremendous crush on me, for some
soulless jerk who used to pin people to the ground with train spikes
or something like that... well, we wanted it all to be over.

But we weren't that lucky. Never are. Huh. I guess if the other Slayers
from long ago are looking down on me now, they're shaking their heads,
clicking their tongues... feeling sorry for the poor blonde Slayer
who just can't get some rest... even in the afterlife...

So, some whacked out minion of Glory's opened the portal. I managed to
get Dawn away from it and knock Mr. Lizard out of the way, but fact
was, the portal was opening, and demons were hop-skip-and-a-jumping
into my world. To seal it, the blood had to be stopped. Dawn was The
Key, created from my blood so I could protect her... but I hadn't.
Now, there was one choice-- I jumped into the portal... then I was
here. In my current predicament. Oh joy.


Willow Rosenberg stood up on shaky knees when Angel walked in,
an almost jovial smile on his all-too-pale face. They were back
from wherever they had gone, two people unfamiliar to her
tagging along with the usual groupies of Angel's-- Cordelia, the
wannabe actress and former bitch-queen of Sunnydale, and Wesley,
retired Watcher and self-named Terror of L.A.

"Willow, what's..." Angel started, seeing the familiar red-headed
witch stand up. If she was here, then that meant...

Before any more words could be exchanged, Cordelia let out a moan
and a weak scream as a vision, sent care of the Powers that Be,
wreaked havoc with her brain and central nervous system. Quivering
and in an intense sort of pain, Cordelia saw things that terrified

It was if she was there, on the tower, herself, standing right behind
an unfamiliar girl, maybe 15 or 16, in a weird dress, and being talked
to by Buffy. The dull throb and ringing in Cordelia's ears that
accompanied every vision, along with the headaches, and complete
sensory perceptions of all that happened to the people in her
visions of pain.

" have to take care of them for me, okay, Dawnie? Promise?"
The aforementioned "Dawnie" sinmply opened and closed her mouth like
a fish, tears streaming down her face as she tried to make sense
of the situation and form a word.

The older blonde simply smiled, took in the starry sky and the sunrise
in the distance. It was the last one she'd ever see... Then, faster
than either Dawn or Cordelia could have remembered, Buffy was running
towards the strange anomaly growing underneath the shoddy tower-- as if
she were going to...

The impact of what she was seeing hit Cordelia full force, and she
wavered back, realizing she was getting pulled back into the real
world, and her real time now, where the visions weren't so strong.
The last thing she heard was that girl letting out an agonized
scream of "BUFFY!!!!"

When Cordelia's eyes finally fluttered open, and the headache receded,
Willow didn't need to say anything. The powerful red-headed witch knew
exactly what Cordelia had seen, the minute their eyes had met. Gulping,
Cordelia struggled to stand, making her way over to Willow.

It took a second, and a round of exchanged glances, care of Gunn,
Wesley, Angel, and Fred, and then Willow and Cordelia burst into tears
on each other's shoulders.

Between sobs, Angel made out Willow's words-- "Buffy... she's not
supposed to die..." and he too, collapsed on the floor, stunned.

Buffy... dead?


I'm sitting here, watching all this. I've been dead for about... well,
judging from the calendar over there on the wall, and if my sense of
time isn't screwed up, about two days now. I've watched my best
friend pace the old Hyperion Hotel, waiting for my ex-undead-lover,
whose lips still felt oddly warm when I'd kissed them last, at my
mother's funeral.

In any case, people were staring at Willow and Cordy, talking
animatedly -the weird black dude to Wesley- or staring... into space.
One in particular -who I'd never seen before- seemed to be looking
right at me. But when Angel collapsed on his butt, she went to his
side. I felt an old tinge of jealousy flare up in me, but pushed
it down. That little voice inside my head screamed "Helloo...
Dead girl here... you don't have much on some living chick, do you?"

I sighed, or as much as I could, being dead. Or undead. I'd never
dealt with ghosts this way. Or at least, *I* was never a ghost...
In any case, things were looking bad here. I didn't know why I was here, let alone how I would get back to being dead. If I really
*wanted* to be dead. Maybe this was that plane where you got to be
a guardian angel or something. But if it was, I was getting upset
I couldn't guard unless I could Slay, but when you die, you can't
use the Powers to Slay... right?

I jumped off the banister I'd been sitting on for the past long time,
and moved over to where strange girl and my ex-undead was. I wondered
if Cordelia could sense me. She did seem to have these brain-wrecking
headaches or whatnot that gave her the power to see future events or
something. Or maybe this weird girl... or Angel. We were soulmates,
weren't we?

'God, I'm pathetic.'

I kneeled down beside Angel and strange girl, and reflexively brought
my hand on Angel's shoulder. I was a bit surprised that I didn't pass
right through him or something ghosty like that. But then again,
all that Vampire lore I'd grown up with was bull, so I guess the
ghost stories were too.

Being that Angel didn't breathe or have a beating heart, he didn't
have an internal body temperature, and probably didn't feel me.
That is, if *I* even had a temperature myself. I had to figure out
a way to be ghosty without blowing a cover I wasn't sure I had.
Was I really a ghost? Why was I here, of all places? What was
I going to do...?
End of Episode 1: A Hotel Haunting
Coming up next, in Episode 2: Phantom Buffy, meet Phantom Dennis

"Woah woah... who are you?" Buffy asked, her hands in a defensive
position. The young guy before her looked suspicious, but lowered
his guard.
"I've heard your voice before. Or something. Who are you?"
"Hello, weird guy, I just asked *you* that. How can you even see me, I
thought I was a..."
"Ghost? You must be, because I am too."