Chapter 39
Misery Inc
(Aka Misery Loves company)
Buffy Anne Summers was pronounced dead at 7:30 am. Well, actually it was around 1pm… a few milliseconds after Willow hit return on her laptop. She leaned back, staring at the words on the screen in sober silence. I rest my hand on her shoulder and give it a little squeeze.
"I know this is fake, but it feels awful doing it… like… like I am giving up on her already or something." She says, her fingers finding mine.
"This is to give her a fighting chance." I say. Behind me Giles picks up the phone of the magic box and dials.
"Hello Gwyneth, I am sorry for the hour of my call. No, no that's not necessary. Please inform The Council that Ms. Summers did not recover from her injuries. She passed away sometime this morning. Yes. No, but for what it is worth thank-you."
He hangs up, and I slump into the chair next to Willow, feeling sleep tugging at me. None of these magic books on the reading table suit my requirements. Willow starts thundering away on the keys.
"What are you doing?" I yawn.
"Hmmm? Me? I just gave Joan Hamill full paid medical insurance cover for three years, and…" she thwaps a few more keys and says "backdated it three years to be sure."
The shop bell rings. Anya enters, paper bag lunch in hand. She surveys the room, and noticing Willow, then backtracks out the door and closes it behind her.
"Want me to kick her ass?" I say. "Cause I can do that now. I think."
"Appreciated, but the answers still no." She sighs. "I have to respect her decision. Take it like a big girl. It's simple enough to understand; she doesn't want to date a werewolf."
I shake my head. Willow is amazing, it just doesn't sit right that such a minor thing could end it. Oz and Willow were fine all that time, all but for one to three days a month. If her bite breaks skin, you got a problem, but that's all. I can't believe anyone could leave Willow. A change of subject is in order.
"So… Joan Hamill?" I say.
"Buffy always loved Dorothy Hamill." Tara says, returning from the kitchenette with a mug of soup. "She took me ice skating a lot. Sh-She was really good. What did I miss?" Tara says, sitting next to me.
"Moping." Willow says. "I-it's a group mope, you're welcome to join in."
"That's a nope on the mope. I am trying my best to stay positive." Tara says. "Sh-she would want that."
"And I am trying to stay awake. Apparently not included in the Slayer Package is unlimited mileage. I am starting to understand Buffy's coffee addiction."
"Go home Lexi. Get some rest." Giles says. "We will let you know if Willow finds anything." I nod gratefully and pull myself to standing, rubbing Willow's shoulders again as I pass. Then something occurs to me.
"Wait, does this mean I have to… like… patrol tonight? Is that a thing I do now?"
"Eventually, but you will need basic training before I am confident you can go alone." Giles says. "Besides, the last few days have been… rather rough. I think rest is the best option."
"I work nights. This is going to wreck everything in my life." I groan. "It already claimed my beloved refrigerator."
"Want me to shunt a couple of thousand dollars from some asshole pharmaceutical bigwig into your account? I can do it without it being traced. It's not like they would notice." Willow offers.
"With the FBI sniffing around me? Yeah, that wouldn't look suspicious at all." I groan. Then I remember the wad of money Faith left for me. "Look, I am okay for now. I will sort something out."
"C-Can this theoretical pharmaceutical baron, say, pay off my student loans?" Tara says. Willow smiles and cracks her knuckles.
I find Anya at the diner, in the same booth we had our talk in. She stares miserably at her plate of fries.
"Go away." She says, not looking up.
"I don't get it." I say.
"Go away."
"You throw a tantrum when they wouldn't let you see her, security had to throw you out" I say. "Then you 180 and dump her."
I sit down opposite her. She stabs her fry into the sauce but doesn't eat it. She turns it over like it is the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Go away." She sighs. "Please? Was it because I missed the 'please'?"
"Anya, talk to me."
"Because sometimes I forget to say 'please'. And people act weird and Willow always reminds me when I should say 'please', and 'thank-you' and all those other stupid words that make no sense to me, and… and now... now who will remind me?" She sniffs. "Who will remind me to say 'please'? Or to explain things to me, and make me feel better when everything is so overwhelming and confusing, and why Lexi? Why did she have to chase after him?"
"You're scared." I sigh. "Not of the wolfy part at all."
"Please? Please go away?" She looks up, eyes glistening in the garish neon light.
"You're scared of her mortality. You are afraid if you care about someone you will get hurt."
"Please?"
"Okay, I will go." I say softly, and slide out of the chair. "But… Anya, if someone dies, you lose them and it hurts. This way? You lose them and it hurts. Only you don't have to. And it hurts them too."
"She… is she okay?"
"Her world just got turned upside down. Which is why you should finish up eating, order her something to eat, then take it to her. Talk to her, Anya." I say. She lowers her head, and once again stares at the sauce coated fry.
"This is all so… painful and hard and… difficult."
"It is like that for all of us. That's why it's nice to have someone who understands. Even for a little time. It hurts less and its a little less lonely. You and Willow understand each other, right?"
"And Faith is that for you? Someone who understands you?"
"More than ever." I sigh. "Trust me. Talk to Willow. It will make it better."
Anya nods. I nod. And I take my leave.
"Lexi?
"Yeah."
"Should I, like, find her some nice dog food or a bone or something?" She says, her face dead straight.
"Maybe stick to fries and a sandwich."
The warm sand squeaks under my toes as I walk towards the sea. The sun hangs so impossibly low on the sky, it is almost kissing the horizon. The light is a buttery, mellow orange, so soft that I can stare into the sun without blinding. The distant pier shimmers like an illusion. The tide is going out. Maybe it will come back one day.
Suddenly, I shiver and my left arm shoots out on its own to meet the incoming projectile. A loud thwack, and I find my fingers firmly gripping a small brown football.
"Oooh, nice catch." Buffy says, approaching from the dunes. She is clad in a pink slip, which ripples gently in the cooling breeze.
"This feels weird. Like, it is coming from somewhere bone deep. Is this like one of those…"
"Slayer dreams." Buffy says, her beautiful lips curve into a sad smile. "I was expecting Faith, and more house work. This is a nice change." She says, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her face. "Shame the suns going down."
I look around. We are alone on the beach as far as my new eyes can see.
"Faith visits you? In your sleep?"
"Sometimes." Buffy sighs. "We draw from the same well."
"Is that why you never got over her?" I say, turning the ball over in my hands, feeling the realness of the texture, the minute details. "Because you still see each other in dreams."
"You know about that huh?" Buffy says. She sits down on the sand, folding her slip under her bottom. I pick a spot next to her and sit. The dream has me in a black one piece swimming costume, a purple and blue sarong tied about my hips. It ripples slowly in the dream winds. "So, I guess it's your turn now."
"I still don't quite believe it."
"Denial. First step on the Kübler Ross Slayer cycle. Next comes anger. Then depression. Then unhealthy relationships with the undead." She says. I am trying not to think about Spike's lips on my neck, the feel of his tongue lapping hungrily as I gushed into his mouth.
"Then bargaining?"
"Bargain hunting." Buffy smiles, and her hand snakes out to clasp mine. "She talked about you, when she was here. I think she loves you."
"Me?" I shake my head. "No. You're wrong. She hates me."
"Love, hate. Fighting, Fuhhh- The other 'F' thing. Maybe that's how it goes for us? There was never supposed to be two Slayers. Maybe we are all just tangled up in each other.
"I ruined everything." I say, drawing me knees up to my chin. I can taste the sun lotion and salt. "Now they have her. And we can't find Oz."
"Help is on the way." Buffy says with a smirk.
"What? Why, that look?"
"You'll never guess who." She chuckles, and then turns her gaze to the horizon. "Sun's going down. Not long to go. Tell Tara I love her, and that 'Miss Kitty Fantastico is a dumb name, but screw it Blue, let's go for it."
She squeezes my hand and then stands, pulling me to my feet. Her skin is golden in the dying light, her eyes lost in shadow.
"This was nice." She leans forward and places a kiss on my cheek.
And I wake up.
The evening is warm and the air perfumed with the maple sweet smell of dry leaves. But a sharp icy scent on the occasional breeze heralds that Winter is closing in on Fall.
I called Giles and found we had bubkiss on Lowell House or those investigating it. Apparently Quintin Travers, a real dirtbag in the Watcher's council called to confirm Buffy's death. Other than that, we had nothing to go on.
I have a few hours before work, and decide to go in. My body is just bubbling with nervous energy and I need something to do. One glance at the ruins of my kitchen and I decided a jog up to Double Meat Palace may just be the answer.
I take my bag of food to the park bench that overlooks the south west side of the town. You know, the one where you can see down to the docks. From there you can just catch a thin sliver of beach before the bluff cuts the view short. A shipping freighter is lazily crawling through the shimmering Californian pollution on it's way the hell out of Sunnydale, and… my god… uhk... soda tastes so strong now that I almost spit it out. The sun is dipping low and I feel my body tingling in the strangest way, coming alive, rising. I try to ignore it and focus on my meal.
"All that change, and seriously? You still eat like a pig."
I startle and look up at the woman leaning against the light pole to my right, her arms folded casually across her chest. She is dressed in a grey silk striped blouse and dark pants with a double buckle, her hair shorter than last I saw her, with thick brown waves that cascade over her lean, angular beautiful face.
"Cordelia?"
"Duh." Cordelia says, and smiles.
