She finally said it.

Those three little words were going though Spike's mind as the light within him consumed his body. The pain was nothing, and even as he was reduced to ashes he kept on laughing, because she finally said it. And maybe, she did mean it... just a little. He decided, with his very last thought, to believe her.

And then there was nothing but darkness...

...for a little while.

***

I'm glad it was you.



Spike was slowly coming back into consciousness. It was still pretty dark, but there was sound, a familiar smell, and someone was sitting beside him.

I said I'm glad it was you. I kinda always wanted to meet you.

Finally things were coming into focus. However inexplicably, Spike was sitting at a bar. There was a drink in front of him; his favorite, outside of blood. The man sitting beside him, saying things that made no sense, was wearing a shiny purple shirt, a zebra skinned vest and a black leather hat.

Spike said, finally. This can't be heaven.

Why do you say that?

Because no one in heaven would dress like you.

This seemed to agitate the stranger. Ya see, that hurts me! What is it with you vampires? You think you're the last word in fashion? I have my own style.

Well, it's very... you. Spike rubbed his head. It was a little fuzzy, like he'd already had a few. By the way, who exactly ARE you?

Name's Whistler.

Oh. I used to have a picture of your mother in my drawing room.

Whistler laughed sharply. Again, I'm insulted. I think I'm gonna like you.

Spike took a sip of his drink, savoring it before...

You're not the curious type are you? Whistler observed. You haven't demanded to know why we're here, what's happening, not even what happened to Buffy.

I know Buffy made it, Spike stated, casually stirring his drink.

Really. How do you figure?

Spike turned to Whistler with a small, proud smile. Because I know Buffy.

Whistler took this in and, after a moment, shook his head. Wow. I gotta admit, I'm impressed. I didn't think I'd be this star struck, but you really live up to the legend.

Spike's smile became his evil grin. A legend? Me?

Oh, come on! Whistler pounded a fist on the bar. He seemed a little tipsy himself. You have to know you're the first vampire in the history of... well... vampires, to do accomplish anything even close to what you've accomplished.

Spike's smile faltered. What? You mean the soul? You really aren't very thorough are you? If you're looking for legends there's this git in L.A.--

Oh, me and Angel go way back. Whistler interrupted. But that's not what I mean. You were a bad guy, a serious full-on villain.

I prefer Big Bad.'

Right. The Big Bad. Whatever. But you changed up! You switched teams! By choice! Don't you know how huge that is!? Whistler was so excited he was leaning into Spike's personal space.

Spike backed away slightly, a little wary of where this was leading. So... is this my reward, then? One last drink in a bar with an oddly dressed stranger before shipping off to Hell?

Whistler swatted the air. Screw Hell! We've got plans for you, my friend.

Uh, oh.

Spike didn't like the sound of that. He was ready to go. It was his time. His last moments with Buffy left him feeling a sense of peace and contentedness. He had a very long life and was a right bastard throughout most of it. He did a little good toward the end there but now he was supposed to die and go to Hell where people like him should rightly end up. Instead there were

Who is Spike eyed him suspiciously.

Whistler sat back a little, regaining his air of mystery. A little group called The Powers That Be.' Maybe you heard of

Did they ever tour with The Clash?

Whistler frowned. I'm sensing a reluctance to participate, here. And it's hurting my feelings. He took a drink.

Chuckling, Spike said, Sorry, mate, but I have heard of the powers that screw with you and whatever it is, you can count me out. I'm done. Given a choice between an eternity in Hell and what's behind door number three--

Not even to be human again?

Spike stopped, tilted his head, What are you talking about?

Whistler looked discreetly over his shoulder, and leaned in to speak quietly with Spike.

Spike squinted at him. Sam's shoes?

Whistler shouted. It's a prophecy. A vampire with a soul is supposed to fulfill his purpose on earth and then you know... get the reward. Being mortal.

Spike tried very hard not to have a reaction to this. And... you're certain you've got the right guy? I mean, I'm sure Angel is all kinds of purposeful down there in L.A. He's got his dark avenger thing and his brooding... He's got a soul and he had it first, much longer than me. Done a lot of good with it too, I hear. I didn't even--

Oh for the love of Pete, blah bitty blah blah blah. Spike spun around looking for the origin of that familiar voice. He found Anya, sitting on the other side of him at the bar, sipping an apple martini.

Anya! You too?

she sighed wistfully, They got me, the bastards. And I was doing pretty well there for a while. Pisses me off.

Spike was confused. ...but... you already were human. I don't...

Euchh. I'm not going to be human again. I've had enough of that crazy roller coaster ride. It's for the birds if you ask me. Although, I guess birds can't technically be classified as human so that really doesn't make any sense... Anya got momentarily lost in her own thoughts before realizing Spike was still looking at her. She flashed him a brilliant smile. Oh, but I think you should do it! Go, humanity! She whacked him really hard on the back.

Spike turned back to Whistler, hoping for some type of explanation.

Yeah, Anya has a different kind of fate in store, he began to explain.

Anya leaned over Spike's shoulder. I'm gonna work for the Powers like this little man. Keep the balance between good and evil. Except I will, of COURSE, look much, much better doing it.

For some reason the powers think she's got more charm than me, Whistler said as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. I ain't seen it yet.

Well, she charmed the pants right off of me once. Spike grinned at her. Anya blushed and swatted him playfully.

After a moment, she got a distant look on her face and sighed deeply. I'm really going to miss having sex.

Silence.

More silence.

Whistler cleared his throat. Yeah, so... what's it gonna be, Spike? You taking this deal or what?

I don't know, mate. Human? I'll be bloody useless, won't I? I don't know if you've heard about what I was like as a human, but it certainly wasn't the stuff legends are made of.

Dude, you're not going back in time. You'll still be you... just human. With a hundred and thirty years worth of memories and experience. And, I dunno, maybe a little something extra.

Spike squinted at the man, What do you mean, something extra?

Whistler bit his bottom lip, thinking for a minute, then, Ahh, I can't tell you. I shouldn't even have said that much. You have to make the decision without my help. But I... I just really think you'll want to do this.

Will I get to see Buffy again?

He can't tell you, dumb ass. This was from Anya. You have to go into this blind, those are the rules.

Spike raised an eyebrow in her direction. I think you may need to work a little on your charming powers of persuasion.

You're doing it, aren't you?



Well then shut up and get going!

There was a pause while Spike let his quick decision sink in. After a bit, he looked up at Anya and his eyes had a little shine to them. Softly, he said, I'm sorry you died. And I'm sorry if I ever hurt your feelings... back when... I...

Anya cut him off by kissing him on the cheek. Don't say goodbye. We'll see each other again. She smiled and added, If you're lucky. She hopped off the stool and looked over at Whistler. I'm counting this one as mine.

The bar surroundings quickly faded and Spike was standing in a white room. Whistler was gone, but Anya remained, diaphanously. She said one thing before finally disappearing into the white. With a soft, wavering voice she said, Take care of Harris for me, okay Spike? And then she was gone.

***