Again, I haven't read the season 8 comics of Buffy, and I'm only one season 2 of Angel. I came up with this idea way before I even heard about the whole... Season 5 of Angel thing. I'd say what, but I don't wanna spoil it for anyone who hasn't watched it, like it was spoiled for me. Anyway, from what I've heard about season 5 anyway, this is still pretty original.
Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form, Joss Whedon or Mutant Enemy. Have to say, I wish I were. Buffy would've gone on for soo much longer than it did, and Spike would've been introduced as a main character much early!
He opened his eyes to a land of white. It was a place of peace, of no pain. Of pure happiness and content.
"What the bloody hell is this?" he asked in his accented British voice.
Looking down at himself, he saw cream colored robes, and pure, fluffy wings behind him, attire matching his bleached hair. Once again, he wondered aloud, "What. The bloody. Hell."
Pushing himself up with his muscular arms, he looked around once more. Having traveled the entire world more than once in his hundred-some years, he'd seen snow. He'd seen white sand. But this blankness was neither. It was… Clouds? Fluffy white clouds. Bloody right.
As he stood, he noticed it was simple. Much too simple. It was as if there were no purpose for the muscles in his arms, abs, and legs. He then realized that the snowy wings behind him were attached – and flapping. It was like antigravity, if there were any gravity here.
Not sure what else to do, he repeated "What the bloody-"
"What?" Spike asked in shock.
The voice repeated, "Heaven, William. You're in Heaven."
"Oh, hell," he muttered as he thought of his time in the basement of the new Sunnydale High, "I think I'm having war flashbacks."
The voice sounding around him gave a soft chuckle. "You are not crazy, William. Everyone here can hear me – at least, they can if I talk to them. I suppose you know that's how it works for the First Evil, too. But, though I am The First, I am not an instrument of evil."
For the first time in over a hundred years, Spike was at a loss for words. "Oh," was the only one he could think to say. The only time he had had anywhere near the lack of speaking ability he was experiencing now was when Buffy had –
"Do not worry about Buffy. She survived the collapse of the Hellmouth and of Sunnydale, William. She is now save in Los Angeles with Liam and her other friends."
"Liam?" Spike felt a smirk creeping across his face. "You don't mean…"
"Oh, right," the voice of "The First" came again. "I – I forgot. I suppose you know him as Angelus, or Angel."
"Bloody right I do," Spike replied, still smirking. At the mention of something, someone, as familiar as his GrandSire, his brain had begun working again. "Anyway, if I'm in Heaven… Well, what kind of "First" thing are you? And, why the hell would a demon like me be in Heaven, anyhow? I'd kind of expect to be tortured in some sort of bloody hell dimension."
"Think you could ask one question at a time, William?" The First asked him somewhat sarcastically. "Well, I am exactly the kind of First you would think of. The very first being. I have been called God, the Creator. Most know me as divine, though I prefer not to be worshipped, as they believe I do. I mean, creating the universe… Not as big a feat as you would think. Quite simple, really. I do wish Man would get over themselves, anyway. It is not like I really have in image to create them in, now do I?"
Spike snorted. "Bloody right," he agreed. "But, instead of sitting here talking about Man like a couple of teenage girls… You think could let me know what I'm doing here?"
"Oh, right. I apologize for getting off track, William. It's just been a while since I've had someone to complain to about… Well, you know. Anyway. William-"
"Call me Spike, oh Divine one?"
"Right. Spike. You died – or, died again – saving the world. You are the reason the Hellmouth is closed, the reason my Earth is not overrun by the demons, which I did not create. Though part of you may be a demon, you are also part Man, one of my own creations. You belong here, with the rest of the good people. The rest of the heroes."
Once again, Spike was nearly at a loss for words. "Hero?"
"Yes, Wi –"
"Spike," Spike reminded The First.
"Spike. Again, you, and you alone, saved the world. This place, Heaven, is a haven for those who have performed feats such as this. For a normal being, it is simpler to end up here. All they must accomplish is one life as a good person. You, only the other hand… You have lived about two human lives, more of it spent performing evil than good. So, where creatures such as Liam have spent almost as long doing good as evil, saving the world one crisis at a time… You, Willi – Spike, you saved the world from the biggest crisis. The worst apocalypse yet. And for such, you have been rewarded by being placed here. In Heaven. As a hero."
Sometimes she would wake with a start with his name on her tongue. She could never remember the dream, but she knew it was of him. William the Bloody. Spike.
She knew in her heart that it had been right to leave him there. Right to allow him to save the world. So, she didn't regret that. Yet… She also wished there had been another way. Though she didn't love him – he had been right there – she felt as if, if he had stayed around longer, she could have fallen for him. And the loss of that possibility is her only regret of the entire ordeal. Sure, she felt bad, about how many people had died. It was horrible, the toll of saving the world. But she knew it was necessary, and that softened the blow.
She missed him. A lot. She didn't know where he was now – being a demon, she guessed some sort of hell dimension. But having a soul, and having died saving the world… That was what made her unsure. She felt that, wherever he was, it couldn't be too bad. Because he didn't deserve anything too bad. He may have been evil for most of his un-life, but somehow she felt he had always been more man than demon, something that could not be said for most vampires. Even Angel, when he lost his soul, would go crazy and evil, would become Angelus once more. But Spike… He had loved her even before having a soul. Unlike Angel, even without a soul he had been able to control himself, been able to think, to save people. Though the software in his head may have been the reason, she felt it was more than that. She felt there was something in Spike that didn't exist in most vampires – a conscience, not connected to a soul.
Now in LA with Angel and the rest of the crew, she had begun to move on with her life. In the eye of an unbiased observer, she would look normal – well, slayer normal, at the very least. No one knew of his late night visits to her mind. In waking hours, she managed to act like herself, saving people, slaying demons. Living her life. But she wasn't normal, not even slayer normal. She could focus her brain on the task in front of her, but her soul was concentrating on him.
Because, deep down inside, Buffy knew that Spike wasn't truly gone. Not for good.
Okay! I'm on a sick day right now, so that's why I've got this written. Ah, the idea results of delusions... Anyway, I'll try to write more probably in the next week.
So, on an ending note - Like, Love, Hate? Let me know your opinion! It'll help make me a better writer, I don't mind constructive criticism in the slightest.