"Check."
"Ray Bans."
"Check."
"Holocaust cloak."
"Check."
"Then I'd say we're ready to blow."
"Huh?"
"Come on Prince Valium."
"Huh?"
My laughter echoes through the cemetery.
"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our sister Joyce Lynn Summers; and we commit her body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless her and keep her, the Lord make her face to shine upon Him and be gracious unto her and give her peace. Amen."
The day is beautiful with the sun shining brightly. Not a cloud in sight. These twenty five mourners deserve at least that. Each is clad in black or dark clothes. Buffy is holding Dawn and a strange man holds them as a unit tentatively from behind. There is not a single dry eye at the Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery on this occasion. Coworkers, friends and family have gathered to say goodbye to a pure heart. The world will most certainly suffer from this loss.
William hides back in the shadows, visibly nervous about the whole ordeal. I gently rest my hand on his shoulder. "It's ok, Will. Just do your part and I'll do mine. Remember. You are here for them, not yourself."
"Got it." Despite the assurances to my vampire,
I'm dying of anxiety. My thumbs won't survive the day. I'm
already causing them to bleed.
The caretakers lowered the simple, modest coffin into the freshly dug plot. They purposely chose mid day for the funeral. Less chance for interruptions like the one at the morgue. Buffy deserved at least one demon free moment. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your point of view, there would be just one demon intrusion. Buffy and Dawn each threw a handful of dirt in the grave and painfully turned away.
She looked up through her tear filled eyes to catch a view of the cloak clad figure advancing toward her. Once it was in earshot, she quietly asked in between sniffles, "Angel?" In the back of her mind, a little voice was telling her to relax…to accept the friendship of the being. Her posse of five saw the man as well and quickly backed her up.
Spike proceeded cautiously, knowing that at any moment, he could be slain by any one of the visitors once he revealed his identity. He wisely kept one eye on Giles and Xander the whole way. Thankfully, he heard that familiar voice telling him everything was going just fine and to loosen up. She always seemed to be able to overpower his doubt.
"No, Buffy. It's me. And before you get all freaky on me, I'm just here to tell you I'm sorry."
"No apology can make up for the things you've done Spike! I don't know why I…"
"Buffy! I mean I'm sorry about your mum. She was an extraordinary woman."
Not a soul uttered a word. Buffy just blinked her hazel eyes, almost as if she couldn't believe this was Spike standing before her saying these things.
"I'll miss her." He started to reach for her hand, but his little voice warned him not to. The hand dropped and he turned to go. Ten pairs of eyes followed his retreating figure, each of them suddenly hearing their subconscious mutter about how Spike must actually be changing for the better.
Buffy stood fast, watching in amazement with a puzzled
look on her face. Behind her, she could hear the quiet discussion.
"What was that all about? Was that Spike?" Wesley's voice cracked
a bit at the name. Giles led him and Cordelia away with a promise
to explain back at the shoppe.