AN: I don't think I need to mention that this is rated M. I do need to mention, however, that this is for Wanda, who is almost as crazy as i am. Mwah!

this doesn't need to be read. there are no important plot points hidden here. so if it bothers you, the idea of a ghost making love to a girl, well, you've been warned.

Epilogue for Life Sentence

When he had made love to her, when he was alive, she had mapped his body underneath her hands. Rather than pointing upwards, something she noticed on the more muscle-bound boys of her acquaintance during long days at the beach, his collarbone made a gentle V that mirrored the angle of his chin, and the hollow of his throat was deep enough to hold a mouthful of water. He was more wiry than muscular, but his strength as a human had been undeniable, even if he had not put much stock in it.

She hadn't been able to see, but could feel his ribs slatted under her fingers, even though he had giggled and twitched when she had touched him beneath his heart space. And his stomach was just a graceful fall from the line of muscle under his ribs to the heavy shadowed ridge delineating his abdomen from his hips—the same line that had showed above the waistline of every damn pair of jeans he had ever worn in front of her, driving her to distraction.

His back was one graceful sloping line from shoulder to hip, bowed gently on both sides of his spine, and his shoulder blades nearly invisible unless he was flexing his arms back. That was partly because his scars were so thickly massed on his shoulders, obscuring all of the more delicate shadows, and partly because of the casual way he held himself, relaxed enough when he was standing to go to sleep.

And now… he was different. There was no denying it. The healthy flush of his human skin was gone, replaced by a pale opalescent glow that caught the light in strange and unimaginably beautiful ways. And in the darkness, he reflected moonlight like a pool of water rather than absorbing it. It was disconcerting and lovely at the same time, and she realized after quite a long time that he was watching her, feigning unconcern, as she stared, entranced, at the swirling patterns of light on his skin.

"Not what you expected?" His voice was tinged with a slight defensiveness, even though he did his level best to sound completely disinterested. She kissed the slope of his stomach, underneath where his heart lay still in his breast, and looked up at him, her brown eyes heavy with shadow.

"You have never been anything like I expected, B." She smiled gently at him, and he reached to tuck her short hair behind her ear. His touch was cool and faintly electric, and she could feel his fingertips even after they were gone.

"Does this bother you, Lyds?" His voice was gruff and pained. "Because I can..." His forehead wrinkled in concentration, and she jumped up, startled, as his skin flushed with pink and the hollows under his eyes lightened. And then he was laying before her, looking as human as when she had last seen him alive. She gasped in astonishment, and then stroked her hand over his chest. He pulled her up to him and kissed her, and he was warm.

But she pulled back. "Beej, how can you… this isn't real." He frowned at her.

"Lyds, whatever you want me to be, I can be."

Her voice became very serious. "I want you to be you. Nothing more than you. I know what you are, Beej. And that's what I want. You." She crossed her arms in front of her breast and crooked an eyebrow at him. He grinned at her, flashing sharp canines, and the warmth left his skin as if somebody had pulled the plug.

"Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're angry?"

"Shut up, B…" she said warningly.

"Hey, I thought you wanted me to be me! Can't say that an' then tell me to shut up, Lyds. Contradiction in terms, that. Hey!" Because she had leapt on him, hands tangled in his wild hair, and held her mouth a fraction of an inch from his. He moved to try and catch her lip with his teeth , and she just barely moved back in time, grinning now.

"I bet I can make you shut up."

His hands grasped her hips and he flipped her over, planting a knee on each side of her hips. She caught hold of his shoulders, and could feel his muscles tense as he settled himself against her. "I bet I can make you howl." He flicked his fingers and her shirt vanished, and she was naked to the waist underneath him. He flashed a deadly grin as she flushed.

"Not fair, B…" But her voice was hazy with desire. And there was no longer any conversation to have, nor any other reason to wait. He was here with her now, and each kiss felt like homecoming. He mapped out her body with his mouth as she arched against him, her hands searching for purchase, her skin tingling with an electric charge. And when she bit gently against his left breast he moaned and phased out, and her hands and mouth fell through him for a moment, until he chuckled and regained his solidity.

"Oops. Sorry 'bout that." She grinned and bit him again, and he clung to form with intense concentration, eyes closed and lips parted, and it was only after that she realized that he was warm under her hands, as if some sweet fire had blossomed in his focus. She tugged at the waistline of his jeans, and he easily obliged her, his hands holding her hips now, and her hands smoothing over his tortured back, healing him, stroking away the tears even as he was rocking against her, inside her, all around her.

And she was pouring herself into him, and he into her, until it was he that was gasping as he pressed his forehead against her collarbone, and she that felt the lines of power that connected him to everything, and the vast blinding connection between them, until the white searing heat tore through her and she was shaking, pulling him as close as he could come to her, crying tears of joy and spilling out all of her grief, as he let loose the memories of his pain, the terror of losing her, the great vast silence of Death.

o0O0o

When he could find his voice again, and it could be used for saying anything other than her name, he kissed her damp forehead as she lay collapsed against him. "Yep," he whispered. "Definitely against the Rules." She let out a weak chuckle of laughter, and kissed his throat, the only part of him that she could reach without having to move.

"I could… see things, B. I could see…" She fell silent, willing to just let it drift in her mind, unexamined, for the moment.

"Oh, don't worry… Juno will be here in the morning waving a stack of forms you have to fill out."

"She can wave all she likes, B. I won't tell a living soul." She snuggled against him, and he reached around to stroke her hair. "No one would believe me, anyway."

"I believe you." His voice was just a whisky whisper in the dark. Lydia murmured something unintelligible, and then faded off to sleep.

It was only in the morning that he realized that his wounds were gone.

o0O0o