Between
By: J.A.I.T.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since then. She no longer had a sense of it here. She’d had time to take in her surroundings in detail, she knew that. Of course, there wasn’t much. Detail that is. Pretty much white on white with white trim. Some silver, that‘s great. Hoo boy. There was a chair, pretty much all there was was a chair, so she sat. She still had a body of sorts it seemed. Which made sitting possible. Yay.
"This was not what I expected," she said to the room (if you could call it that, because there weren’t really walls; more like a space) at large.
"What did you expect, Buffy?" She stood at the soft voice behind her, and was more than surprised to see who it was.
"I thought I’d see my mother. I really didn’t think I’d see you, you’re not even dead...unless...are you?" He arched an eyebrow ironically and gave her a small smile.
"Pretty sure I’m not dead, but you never can tell, can you? But I’m clear I’m not your mother."
"Why are you here?" Buffy stared at him but he only shrugged in response. Silence between them, for seconds or years, she could no longer be sure.
"Why am I here?" He finally repeated back to her, crossing his arms across his chest. She stared at him, her annoyance rising and rapidly becoming anger.
"You must know. Where am I? And why am I here with you? It makes no sense."
"What does?" Buffy threw up her hands and stalked away in exasperation at another noncommittal reply.
"This is what I get? This is my reward? If this is heaven, they’ve WAY exaggerated in the brochures."
"Um, I can’t be sure, Buffy, but I don’t think that this is heaven," He called after her. She whirled and headed back to him, still bristling with aggravation.
"Why not? I’m dead. I know I’m dead, because I died."
"You did that," he agreed pleasantly.
"So if I’m not in heaven...oh God, did I go to..."
"Hell? As if!" he snorted. "Although, got to love the irony. But fairly certain not, pretty easy on the eternal torment here."
"Where then? Where is this place?" He looked at her solemnly for a long moment.
"Between."
"Between what?"
"Just between," he shrugged again. Buffy exploded.
"You can’t have just between! Between implies other things that you are...stuck between! Like between heaven and hell, between a rock and a hard place, between life and death. I can’t be between, I’m dead, dead is not between...unless it is." Buffy sank back into the chair, staring at him balefully. "But that would just suck so royally. And it still doesn’t explain where my mom is."
"It doesn’t," he agreed.
"Are you just going to agree with me or answer my questions with other questions all the time, because it’s really getting on my nerves."
"Am I?" He responded with another shrug. She stared at him coldly.
"Can I slay you?"
"Probably. But you don’t really have to. If you really wanted me gone, I’d be gone already." Buffy smiled at him.
"Bye, Oz." She said to the empty space.
**************************************
"Can’t say as I like between," she grumbled a few (seconds? hours? days? years?) later.
"Of course you don’t. It’s really unsettling." Buffy looked over her shoulder at her new companion and sighed.
"Let me guess. You’re not dead either." The new visitor cocked her head for a moment, considering the question, then shook it confidently.
"No, though I could be lost again, I guess. Why am I here, Buffy?" Buffy buried her face in her hands.
"I wish I knew. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t understand any of this. Oz said that I’m between."
"Oz? Oz was here?" She sounded shocked.
"Yes, he was here, but I sent him away. He couldn’t answer any of my questions."
"Of course not," she snorted derisively. "What does he know about this sort of thing? Oh, except in that overall being smart and understanding existentialism kind of way. But Angel read Sartre too, and in French. I’m pretty sure Oz doesn’t read French. Maybe you should get Angel."
"No...Tara, there’s no way you could know all those things. Willow didn’t tell you that stuff, did she?" Tara shook her head sadly.
"I’m not sure if Willow even knows all that."
"But I do," Buffy answered quietly. "You’re not really here, are you? It’s all just me. I’m alone." Tara reached out as if to touch Buffy’s cheek. Buffy closed her eyes and sighed, the sound of it echoing in the emptiness. "I’m alone."
**************************************
Later...
"This can’t be all there is!" Buffy cried into nothingness.
"What an absurd notion! Of course it isn’t!" Buffy didn’t need to turn, this voice she knew almost better than her own.
"Go away. You’re just a part of me talking to me. Been there, done that, hated it, go." She didn’t bother to look to see if he was gone, she knew how to deal with this now. She stared into the whiteness for an unknown time.
"You’re amazingly stubborn, you know that?" Buffy jumped and whirled around.
"Why are you still here, Giles? I wished you gone."
"You cannot wish me gone. I’m not like the others, Buffy." Buffy considered that for a moment, then shook her head despondently.
"But you’re not really you, are you?" Giles regarded her solemnly. He removed his glasses and wiped them with a gesture so familiar that Buffy felt her heart shatter. She found herself feeling more alone than she had before, and she hadn’t thought that was possible.
"You are correct that I’m not Rupert Giles," he answered finally.
"Then who are you? And do you know why I’m here?" She gestured wildly around at the whiteness she had come to despise.
"Between," he offered helpfully. She glared at him.
"Yes, between," Buffy answered between clenched teeth.
"It’s not a punishment, you know." Buffy couldn’t help it, she punched him in the gut. She was a bit startled to connect with something solid, but the fact that there was something tangible there made her feel a bit better. Watching the faux Giles collapse to the ground with an astonished expression made her feel a lot better. She stood over him, hands on hips, her voice steady and cool steel.
"That’s not an answer. I’m so sick of not getting answers. And when I was creating people out of my own head to talk too, which by the way, thanks for that," she interjected sarcastically, "well, that made sense, because I can’t tell me what I don’t know. But you’re different, being apparently someone not made by me, so you must have an answer. And, gotta tell you, for something that isn’t punishment this right now pretty much feels like hell!"
"I’m sorry you feel that way. Please don’t hit me again, it’s quite unpleasant." He answered with a little Giles-like huff. He looked at her expectantly. Rolling her eyes, Buffy helped him to his feet. He brushed himself off even though there was no possibility that anything could have gotten on his clothes in this all white void. "Now, I’m here to tell you some, er, things that you need to know. I’ve taken this form because it represents the one of the two greatest authorities in your life. My companion has taken the form of the other. We thought it best that I speak to you first, so as to minimize any confusion." Buffy stared at him blankly.
"Huh?"
"Oh dear, you don’t understand," He ran his hand through his hair, pacing a bit in a manner so like her Watcher that Buffy was again heartsick. "I know that you have expectations which we have sought to mitigate, and I’m afraid we’ve failed rather miserably in that regard. I warned them that this would be quite hard for you, but of course they never listen to me."
"Giles...whoever you are...stop. What are you saying? Who are they? Never mind that, who are you, really? What expectations?"
"Who did you really assume you’d see here, Buffy? You’ve said it time and time again." Buffy sensed the presence of another person behind her, and she knew who it would be before she even turned around.
"My mother."