Disclaimer: Joss owns Buffy, Kripke owns Castiel. Like always, I own nothing fun.
This is just a short little fic to tie over my muse until I can get to Castiel in one of my other fics. It was loosely inspired by last week's episode of Supernatural where they were talking about heaven(s).
Buffy stood silently against the wooden rail, her light green eyes tracking a little girl in a pink swim suit as she played in the surf. She would run into the foam, but just as the water was about to pass over her toes, she would scamper back up the beach a few feet with her arms flailing at her sides. The Slayer couldn't hear her, as she was too far away, but she knew that the girl was squealing in delight each time.
She rested her arms along the top of the rough wood and closed her eyes, enjoying the way the bright California sun warmed her golden skin. To her left was a pier, the edge closest to the water littered with various food shacks and a Ferris Wheel, and below her was a dark, asphalt road. Beyond the thin strip of road was a long expanse of sparkling sand, and beyond that, clear blue water.
Smiling, she flicked her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and turned her gaze to the darkened, foliage-covered archway that sat behind, and a little to the left of, her. Any second now, he would emerge from the archway, his face alight with wonderment as he stepped into the hot sun, and he would walk up to her slowly before pulling her close and kissing her like he was drowning.
Yep, any second now.
Today, she was dressed in a knee-length yellow sun dress with little daisies embroidered at the bodice and the hem. His cross sat cool against her chest, and she toyed with it as she turned her attention back to the crowded beach in front of her. Minutes ticked by, but still, she waited.
“Your heaven is beautiful.” She frowned slightly at the unknown voice but didn't turn her head, instead keeping her eyes trained on a woman tanning at the water's edge. Not what she was expecting, but she'd play along.
“Thank you.” She left it at that, and the two strangers stood side by side for a few seconds before he once again broke the silence.
“A moment from a forgotten memory.” At that, she looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow as she took in his full suit and tan-colored trench coat. He looked wildly out of place on this sunny, California afternoon. He still hadn't turned to look at her, his gaze blankly aimed at the water in front of him.
“Not anymore.” He finally shifted his gaze to her, but his eyes never focused. Buffy got the creepy feeling that he was looking through her, not at her. “The memory. It's no longer forgotten.” The two once again lapsed into silence. This time, it was her turn to break it. “Not that this little visit hasn't been highly
enjoyable but...” She paused, not knowing how to tactfully ask what she was thinking. Screw tact. She was dead. “Well, who are you? And what are you doing here?” When he didn't answer, she waved a delicate hand in front of his face. At the action, his eyes finally focused on her, his bright blue eyes boring intimately into her wide green ones. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was unable to tear her eyes away as she stared at him, hypnotized.
“I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.”
“Oooooh, an angel.” A light, tinkling laugh fell from her lips, but his features remained as serious as ever. Her laughter abruptly stopped. “Seriously? An angel? You're joking.”
“I assure you, Buffy Summers. I am not joking.” Warily, she eyed him up and down, his stiff posture and curt responses taking all the fun out of teasing him. “I come bearing a message.” The blonde frowned. Great, what was this about? With a sigh she turned and walked a few feet back from the railing so that she could flop down on a wooden bench at the edge of the pathway. Looking over at the angel, she saw that he hadn't moved and was still staring at the spot where she had been standing.
“Yo, Cas.” She paused, watching as his attention was once again turned toward her. “Can I call ya Cas?” His eyes locked with hers, but he made no move to answer her, so she took that as a 'yes.' “Cas, come here.” Buffy patted the bench next to her. He stiffly walked over, keeping his arms held tight at his side, and stopped in front of her. He made no move to sit down. Sighing exasperatedly, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto the bench, smiling as his arms flailed slightly as he lost his balance before quickly regaining his composure. He sat unmoving on the bench next to her, his eyes staring unseeingly at the spot that they had just vacated.
“As you wish.”
“So an angel, huh?” she asked, crossing her legs and raising a delicately-tweezed eyebrow at him. Unsurprisingly, he didn't respond. “You're pretty hot for an angel.” Buffy took a second to give him a once over. He really was. He had dark brown hair and sharp features, and she would bet that he was rocking a killer body underneath all of those unnecessary layers. Of course, the non-existent personality sort of ruined it. “You know, in that pale, serious, accountant-looking way. I always pictured angels more with the togas and fluffy white wings and less with the trench coats and snappy suits. Speaking of your trench coat, how are you not burning up right now? I mean seriously, it's like ninety-...”
“This is not a productive topic,” he interrupted her babbling, causing her to glare at him. Man, this guy was about as fun as... something that wasn't at all fun. “I come bearing a message.” The blonde sighed, shifting so that she was angled toward him with her right hand flung across the back of the bench.
“Yeah, I got that.” She paused, waiting for him to deliver his oh-so-important message. He didn't. “Lay it on me, angel man.” His piercing gaze turned toward her, once again trapping her in her place.
“I am here to bring you back.” A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. She already knew the answer, but she asked anyways.
“To your world. You are needed.” That had her snapping her eyes away from him and standing up. Surprisingly, this time, his eyes followed her as she backed away from him.
“No. I'm not going back.”
“You are needed,” he repeated, his eyes blank and calculating as he watched her pace in front of him. “There is an apocalypse on the horizon-...” This time, it was her turn to interrupt.
“There's always an apocalypse! Hell, I've averted... like, five of them!” She continued to pace, the moist grass tickling the bottoms of her bare feat as she spun in dizzying circles. “I was done! They promised me,” she added, thinking back to her last conversation with the PTBs before the had set her free to live her life, or rather afterlife, in heaven. “They promised that I was done.”
“The Powers That Be do not have any say in this matter.” He was standing now, his arms still hanging loosely at his sides. “This is no ordinary apocalypse. The Apocalypse is coming. The End of Days. I was ordered by my Father to return you to Earth.” Buffy laughed bitterly, stopping her pacing to come to a halt in front of his unmoving form.
“Your Father? Since when has 'your Father'” – she raised her hands in the form of air quotes – “ever cared about my world? Since when has He ever been involved? Here you are, up in your cloud-shaped houses, playing angel poker or whatever the hell you do, sitting on your asses as I clean up your messes!” The rebellious part of her brain took a second to notice how nice this particular angel's ass was, but the bigger, angrier part of her brain quickly shrugged it off as she continued to yell at him. “I am done!” She was waving her arms around wildly now, but the emotionless look on Castiel's face never changed. Hell, she wasn't sure if he was even capable of emotions.
“You are the Chosen One.”
“I am not!” Buffy dropped her arms down to her sides but didn't lower her voice. “You have Faith. Sure, she's kind of crazy, and hello, murderer, but she's still the Slayer! The only
Slayer, now. Can't you go over to wherever she is and work your mojo on her so that she goes all non-dark side again? You're an angel!” She knew she was being irrational and childish, but she didn't care. She was not going back there. After all the years she had spent fighting for the forces of good, after all the people she had lost along the way, she finally was done. She had done her part, played the role that the PTBs had assigned her, and look where that had gotten her. She had been promised peace. Now, after she had finally found a place where she felt safe, loved, they were back to take it all away from her.
“Faith Lehane is not the Chosen One. You are the Chosen one.” A question mark formed across her features, but it disintegrated into fear as he stepped closer to her with his hand raised. “It is time.”
“No!” Buffy yelled, scrambling backwards. “I am not going!” She was panicking now, her blonde hair swishing wildly around her shoulders as she scanned the area for any possible escape route. But even as she looked, she knew that she would never be able to escape. Shoulders slumping, she turned back to him. His arm had dropped back to his side, but he was staring at her curiously, like he had never seen anything like her. “I can't go back. Please,” she pleaded, tears blurring the edges of her vision. “I've done enough, haven't I? Please, don't make me go back. I've done enough.” Something reminiscent of sympathy flitted through his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that she wondered if she had imagined it.
“I am truly sorry, Buffy Summers.” He reached out and wrapped an iron-tight hand around her wrist, looking down at her now tear stained face. Before she could even blink, he had placed the index and middle fingers of his free hand on her forehead. They felt strangely warm, and she closed her eyes as the couple was swallowed up by a blinding white light.
When she opened her eyes, all she could see was pitch blackness, and the earth around her rumbled as she screamed.
Hope you all enjoyed even though it was short and not very well fleshed out. Drop me a review on your way out! :)