AN: HERE'S JUST A ONE-SHOT SET IN THE FUTURE.
DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN IT, NEVER WILL
RATING: PG-13
One Day
She came back there every year. It was always the same day each year. She would some to the cemetery every year and spend an hour there, just sitting by the tombs. She would always sit by the same monument, staring at it for the entire hour. She would lift a gloved hand to trace the writing on the simple monument.
Every year she would be wearing the same clothes; a pair of black leather trousers, a black top and a black leather jacket. She wore long elbow-length gloves. Her blond hair was long and pulled back into a twist on top of her head.
She would sit still for the entire hour, never moving, never blinking, she didn't even appear to be breathing as the sun glinted on her hair. She would always come from the same direction, out of the east at exactly ten o'clock in the morning. Then she would stand up as soon as the clock chimed and walk away into the west. She never looked back, she never stayed longer than one hour and she never changed.
She came again that year. She walked into the cemetery and straight to the stone. It was over fifty years since she had first been seen there. After the hour passed, this time she did not leave. She stayed there. All day she sat in front of the stone as the sun set. The sun framed her in a crimson glow that gradually faded.
Then, after the sun set, he came. He walked towards her silently. He was dressed in black pants and a black shirt and leather duster. He went and silently sat down beside her. She didn't seem to acknowledge his presence for a time. She spoke, her voice hushed,
"Angel"
It was not a question. It was simply a statement. She didn't move from where she sat, her fingers tracing the writing carved into the worn stone. Then he spoke, his voice full of emotion,
"I didn't think I'd find you here Buffy."
She turned now to look at him. Her eyes were full of such sorrow that it couldn't be described. She then spoke,
"I come here every year. This day, each year. There are so many of them."
Angel nodded. Buffy continued,
"I'm not changing. When Giles first told me this would happen when I became thirty, I didn't want to believe him. I hoped I would die."
Angel wrapped his strong arms around her shaking shoulders,
"It's ironic really. I died twice before I was twenty-five. But I came back. Now I'm never going to die."
A crimson tear traced its way down Angel's cheek. He spoke then,
"I never wanted this to happen to you."
She buried her face in his solid chest.
"I denied it for so long. But when your friends are getting grey hair and arthritis. When they're aging and dying, and you're staying the same. When you're eighty and you look like you did when you were twenty. You can't deny it then. I tried to die. When Giles died I jumped off a cliff. All I got was a broken arm. When Will' and Xander died overnight I still looked like I was thirty and I couldn't stand it. I didn't eat anything for three months. When my best friends' children's grandchildren were going into their coffins I slit my wrists and tried to die that way. But nothing ever happened Angel, I might pass out for a bit, but I'd wake up and I'd be just the same."
Tears were running down her cheeks in streams now. She had thought she had wept every tear she possessed years ago, but it seemed that she would never finish weeping for what she had lost. Angel wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.
"Angel, how do you do it? How do you go on living when everyone you ever loved is gone to the dust? How do you watch them fade and die knowing that you never will?"
"It's hard Buffy. But it won't be for much longer."
She laughed then, a dry and bitter laugh, not the free one she had once had.
"Another apocalypse? Don't even answer that. Is it supposed to be the last one? The one where we become humans and buy a house with a white picket fence and have 2.3 children and a dog?"
Angel nodded sadly,
"Yes, Whistler says that this is the End of Days."
She snorted,
"Whatever. I doubt the end of days is ever going to happen. They'll just keep us here, make us keep on fighting until we're nothing but freshly sharpened tools. They just want us as weapons. There will always be evil and we will always be the ones who have to fight it. There's not going to be an end of days. The fight is never won, the story never comes to an end."
Angel sighed and hugged her tightly,
"You can't believe that Buffy. We have to hope it will end one day."
Buffy snorted,
"I don't believe in fairy tales any more. I guess this is my curse. I've seen a paradise. I guess it might've been heaven. And I was pulled out. I can never go back. I doomed to this fight."
Angel held her to him and whispered in her hair,
"I can't say anything that will make this better Buffy."
Buffy looked up at him and pressed her lips against his,
"There's nothing you can say Angel. Just hold me. Be with me. I once dreamed we'd be together forever, I guess that's true."
And with that, she rose from where she sat. He rose with her, his arms still wrapped around her. She asked him,
"So, where's it going down this time?"
He smiled down at her,
"It's the First and her army of Turo'khan. They're attacking the city of En-Cal."
Buffy laughed slightly,
"Good old L.A. They can change the name, but there will still be the brewing of the evil there. And the First again. Does it never give up? Don't answer that. Let's go and stop ourselves another apocalypse."
With that the two of them turned and walked away from the cemetery. Neither of them ever returned.
After they died, Angel and Buffy were buried in the same grave that they had always visited together. Nobody attended the funeral and nobody wept. That day there was much rejoicing in eternity, but in this life, there was only the continuing of existence and another to bodies in a grave.
One can go to that cemetery still. It's just the same as any other. Lines and lines of tombstones and monuments. But there is one monument that is different. It's a simple stone. Under the stone there is a large crypt. They are all buried there. On the stone there is a long list of names. And at the bottom there are two, simply reading:
LIAM ANGELUS O'CONNOR: 1733-4056
BUFFY SUMMERS-O'CONNOR: 1981-4956
MAY THEY HAVE THE PEACE IN DEATH THAT THEY WERE NOT GRANTED IN LIFE.
"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God." Matthew 5:9