Epilogue. Wednesday to Saturday.
Buffy started her self-defense class the next day; it was
well-attended, even though some of the tactics she taught were
somewhat outre. The next day, Buffy and Giles used the YMCA for
their training. Their fencing sessions became a great attraction,
although the YMCA's fencing instructor had to warn her students
not to use any of their techniques.
Willow and Oz lived out what Willow called their "Golden
Summer". She reached an accommodation with her parents; they
didn't ask, and Willow didn't tell. Willow assisted Oz and Oz's
uncle in building a cage in the basement of Oz's home, and they
prepared for his monthly curse.
Cordelia and Xander spent all their remaining time together. They
packed up her things. They wandered through the malls of
Sunnydale. They went to a nearby beach and tried to relax, though
they never quite succeeded. They stayed in Xander's bedroom;
fortunately for their sanity, Xander's father chose to disappear
for a few days. Xander initiated Cordelia into the mysteries of
country and western music; he stuck with music that would never
be played on the local radio station. They tried losing
themselves in sex, but it didn't work. As Terry Allen sang on one
of Xander's CDs, "I blame God. He's the only one who could make a
mess like this that even He can't clean up."
Giles split his days between cataloging the books they had
salvaged, training Buffy at the YMCA, and recovering from the
bruising she gave him. He took the time to write a letter.
Dearest Olivia,
I must beg your pardon for not having replied to your letter of
early April; unfortunately, I have been extremely preoccupied,
and for reasons you would never believe.
I now find myself a gentleman of leisure; I have been fired by my
English employer, and my job here ended as the school did. I am
certain that The Times chose not to print any stories about a
school in an obscure California town that had been levelled in an
explosion. Nevertheless, that was my school. My friends and I
are fine, but we shall never forget our horrour.
You expressed amusement at my stories of the mating habits of
Homo sapiens califoriensis. I shall never understand them, but
they are, in fact, worthy successors to the American soldiers who
came to England fifty-five years ago. I have seen acts of grace
and sacrifice you or I would hardly credit. I don't understand
their enthusiasms, their music, or their attitudes. However, I
shall not denigrate them again.
I should be happy to receive you here in September.
With love,
Rupert Giles
Saturday morning came; Xander and Cordelia had spent one last
night in Cordelia's room. They made gentle love one last time,
and then Xander pampered her. He shampooed her hair, helped with
her makeup, and helped with her clothes; he armored her for
battle. They went outside and waited in silence; at noon, one of
Cordy's old friends drove up to take her to Los Angeles. They
kissed, and Cordy got into the car. Tears streamed down his face
as they drove away.
"Who was that?"
"Xander."
"Your boyfriend?"
"Just Xander. It's complicated."
Brianna glanced at Cordelia and saw one tear roll down her cheek;
she nodded, and they dove off in silence.
Xander returned to his house, retreated to his room, and listened
to Alison Krauss singing of finding and losing love. He took the
time to finish packing for his trip, and he spent the rest of the
afternoon lost in reverie.
At eight o'clock, of course, Xander showed up at the Bronze. He
got a soda and stood watching the dancers. It was as if nothing
had happened; he looked at them and saw no sign that they had
fought a war just two weeks ago. A few minutes later, Buffy was
at his side.
"That's what I fight for, you know."
"I know. It's just that--"
"Yeah."
The next song was the Sundays' "Here's Where the Story
Ends". They cringed at lhe lyric, "It's that little souvenir of a
terrible year which makes me wonder why," and they retreated to a
table.
"Willow's on Oz-watch."
"I know. I tested out the cage yesterday."
"And it got the Slayer Seal of Approval?"
"Yeah. Oz does good work. I could barely flex the bars. Without
hands, he won't be able to do even that. Uh, where's Cordy?"
"Gone."
"Gone?"
"Gone. She won't be back."
Buffy nearly blurted out the words, "What did you do?" She would
have, but then she was reminded of Angel's departure, and she
said nothing.
"Love sucks, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, Xand. What happened?"
"Don't you know, Buff? I only want what I can't keep."
"Not just you."
She moved around the table and sat next to him; they stayed like
that for a while, sipping their drinks and mourning lost
loves. Fuel's "Shimmer" came over the sound system, and Xander
said, "You know, we listen to some really depressing music."
"Yeah. It fits my mood."
"Still thinking about Angel?"
"I still dream of him, and have nightmares of him. He's still in
my head. I even went patrolling yesterday to see if I could fight
those memories away."
"And?"
"Nothing. The graveyard was as quiet as a graveyard should be."
"You're doing a good job."
"I know. But, it makes me twitchy."
"Need a refill?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Xander went to the bar and ordered; he also wrote a note for the
disc jockey. He returned with his coffee and her mocha blast, and
then he said, "You'll find someone, Buff. Someone who isn't in
pain when he's not inflicting it. Someone who understands you and
brings sunshine when it's dark."
"Xander? This had better not be a come-on."
"No. I'm not that disloyal. This isn't a rebound
attempt. Whatever happens, though, I love you. Willow loves
you. Giles loves you. And, Angel loves you. There's not enough
love in the world for us to waste any."
Then, David Bowie's "Heroes" came over the sound system. They
looked at each other, two heroes out of many, and they swayed to
the music.
'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact.
Yes, we're lovers, and that is that.
And though nothing will keep us together,
We could beat them, for ever and ever.
We can be heroes, just for one day.
What do you say?
It was time for them to leave, and Xander drove her back to her
house. She kissed his cheek and got out of the car. He made no
attempt to leave.
"You want to come in?"
"Yeah. Home's not good tonight."
"When has it ever been?"
They went inside, and Buffy made them lemonade while Xander nuked
some popcorn. They lay down on the carpet in front of the
television and tried to watch a movie, but the day had been long,
and they soon fell peacefully asleep, she nestled on his chest.
Joyce woke up an hour later, disturbed by a loud commercial, and
she went downstairs to shut the television off. She saw the two
friends sleeping on the carpet, and thought, "That's
interesting." She draped a blanket around them, and she went back
to her bedroom. For the first time in months, she was at peace.
Buffy started her self-defense class the next day; it was
well-attended, even though some of the tactics she taught were
somewhat outre. The next day, Buffy and Giles used the YMCA for
their training. Their fencing sessions became a great attraction,
although the YMCA's fencing instructor had to warn her students
not to use any of their techniques.
Willow and Oz lived out what Willow called their "Golden
Summer". She reached an accommodation with her parents; they
didn't ask, and Willow didn't tell. Willow assisted Oz and Oz's
uncle in building a cage in the basement of Oz's home, and they
prepared for his monthly curse.
Cordelia and Xander spent all their remaining time together. They
packed up her things. They wandered through the malls of
Sunnydale. They went to a nearby beach and tried to relax, though
they never quite succeeded. They stayed in Xander's bedroom;
fortunately for their sanity, Xander's father chose to disappear
for a few days. Xander initiated Cordelia into the mysteries of
country and western music; he stuck with music that would never
be played on the local radio station. They tried losing
themselves in sex, but it didn't work. As Terry Allen sang on one
of Xander's CDs, "I blame God. He's the only one who could make a
mess like this that even He can't clean up."
Giles split his days between cataloging the books they had
salvaged, training Buffy at the YMCA, and recovering from the
bruising she gave him. He took the time to write a letter.
Dearest Olivia,
I must beg your pardon for not having replied to your letter of
early April; unfortunately, I have been extremely preoccupied,
and for reasons you would never believe.
I now find myself a gentleman of leisure; I have been fired by my
English employer, and my job here ended as the school did. I am
certain that The Times chose not to print any stories about a
school in an obscure California town that had been levelled in an
explosion. Nevertheless, that was my school. My friends and I
are fine, but we shall never forget our horrour.
You expressed amusement at my stories of the mating habits of
Homo sapiens califoriensis. I shall never understand them, but
they are, in fact, worthy successors to the American soldiers who
came to England fifty-five years ago. I have seen acts of grace
and sacrifice you or I would hardly credit. I don't understand
their enthusiasms, their music, or their attitudes. However, I
shall not denigrate them again.
I should be happy to receive you here in September.
With love,
Rupert Giles
Saturday morning came; Xander and Cordelia had spent one last
night in Cordelia's room. They made gentle love one last time,
and then Xander pampered her. He shampooed her hair, helped with
her makeup, and helped with her clothes; he armored her for
battle. They went outside and waited in silence; at noon, one of
Cordy's old friends drove up to take her to Los Angeles. They
kissed, and Cordy got into the car. Tears streamed down his face
as they drove away.
"Who was that?"
"Xander."
"Your boyfriend?"
"Just Xander. It's complicated."
Brianna glanced at Cordelia and saw one tear roll down her cheek;
she nodded, and they dove off in silence.
Xander returned to his house, retreated to his room, and listened
to Alison Krauss singing of finding and losing love. He took the
time to finish packing for his trip, and he spent the rest of the
afternoon lost in reverie.
At eight o'clock, of course, Xander showed up at the Bronze. He
got a soda and stood watching the dancers. It was as if nothing
had happened; he looked at them and saw no sign that they had
fought a war just two weeks ago. A few minutes later, Buffy was
at his side.
"That's what I fight for, you know."
"I know. It's just that--"
"Yeah."
The next song was the Sundays' "Here's Where the Story
Ends". They cringed at lhe lyric, "It's that little souvenir of a
terrible year which makes me wonder why," and they retreated to a
table.
"Willow's on Oz-watch."
"I know. I tested out the cage yesterday."
"And it got the Slayer Seal of Approval?"
"Yeah. Oz does good work. I could barely flex the bars. Without
hands, he won't be able to do even that. Uh, where's Cordy?"
"Gone."
"Gone?"
"Gone. She won't be back."
Buffy nearly blurted out the words, "What did you do?" She would
have, but then she was reminded of Angel's departure, and she
said nothing.
"Love sucks, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, Xand. What happened?"
"Don't you know, Buff? I only want what I can't keep."
"Not just you."
She moved around the table and sat next to him; they stayed like
that for a while, sipping their drinks and mourning lost
loves. Fuel's "Shimmer" came over the sound system, and Xander
said, "You know, we listen to some really depressing music."
"Yeah. It fits my mood."
"Still thinking about Angel?"
"I still dream of him, and have nightmares of him. He's still in
my head. I even went patrolling yesterday to see if I could fight
those memories away."
"And?"
"Nothing. The graveyard was as quiet as a graveyard should be."
"You're doing a good job."
"I know. But, it makes me twitchy."
"Need a refill?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Xander went to the bar and ordered; he also wrote a note for the
disc jockey. He returned with his coffee and her mocha blast, and
then he said, "You'll find someone, Buff. Someone who isn't in
pain when he's not inflicting it. Someone who understands you and
brings sunshine when it's dark."
"Xander? This had better not be a come-on."
"No. I'm not that disloyal. This isn't a rebound
attempt. Whatever happens, though, I love you. Willow loves
you. Giles loves you. And, Angel loves you. There's not enough
love in the world for us to waste any."
Then, David Bowie's "Heroes" came over the sound system. They
looked at each other, two heroes out of many, and they swayed to
the music.
'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact.
Yes, we're lovers, and that is that.
And though nothing will keep us together,
We could beat them, for ever and ever.
We can be heroes, just for one day.
What do you say?
It was time for them to leave, and Xander drove her back to her
house. She kissed his cheek and got out of the car. He made no
attempt to leave.
"You want to come in?"
"Yeah. Home's not good tonight."
"When has it ever been?"
They went inside, and Buffy made them lemonade while Xander nuked
some popcorn. They lay down on the carpet in front of the
television and tried to watch a movie, but the day had been long,
and they soon fell peacefully asleep, she nestled on his chest.
Joyce woke up an hour later, disturbed by a loud commercial, and
she went downstairs to shut the television off. She saw the two
friends sleeping on the carpet, and thought, "That's
interesting." She draped a blanket around them, and she went back
to her bedroom. For the first time in months, she was at peace.
