Xander walked down the dusty road. He felt like two people. On the
one hand, he was close to being giddy, hey, maybe he was giddy. Buffy had
accomplished the impossible. She'd smacked down the oldest evil in the
world, and it was possible for her to retire, and just be a twenty-one year-
old woman. But in the palm of the other hand, he'd just learned that the
one woman he'd ever loved had just died. He could just imagine her bouncy,
blonde-brown hair, smelling the way it did, tickling his nose. He could see
her shiny, red lips, spinning sarcastic remarks, and her perky brown eyes
looking upon him. But it was just a fragment of his imagination.
"Are you okay?" A hand had fell on his shoulder. Buffy's big eyes looked up at him. He sighed.
"Yes and no." His fun exterior was gone. This frightened even him. No bad jokes, no happy smiles. "I just need space."
She nodded and walked over to her friends. Xander sat down by the side of the dusty road, staring out at the bare landscape. He had sucked it up in front of Andrew, but now his nose burned and he felt the tears coming down. They fell from his eyes, clearing the dirt and blood from his cheeks.
'No, burly men don't cry. Buck up. Oh, who am I kidding?' Xander thought. His face fell into his hands. He stayed there a while, just wallowing in his own sorrow, and continued to do so the whole trip to San Francisco.
A small crowd gathered under an unusually gray sky. All dressed in black they surrounded the tombstone. The crowd was made up of a variety of people. There were teenage girls who had known Anya, Buffy, Willow, Dawn, Giles, Faith and Andrew also stood. There was also a variety of demons from her old fold. Xander looked down at the fresh grave. The grass hadn't grown to normal length yet. The tumbling voice of the minister stopped. They all stood for a while, but eventually everyone left. Everyone that is, except for the home team.
"It's getting late." Buffy's voice was a whisper. Xander nodded.
"You guys go back to the hotel. I'm going to stay a while." They all turned, without saying a word. They didn't feel they needed to.
Xander stood by the grave for an hour, remembering happier times. He stood up, it was getting late. But before he left, he dropped a single rose on the grave.
"Are you okay?" A hand had fell on his shoulder. Buffy's big eyes looked up at him. He sighed.
"Yes and no." His fun exterior was gone. This frightened even him. No bad jokes, no happy smiles. "I just need space."
She nodded and walked over to her friends. Xander sat down by the side of the dusty road, staring out at the bare landscape. He had sucked it up in front of Andrew, but now his nose burned and he felt the tears coming down. They fell from his eyes, clearing the dirt and blood from his cheeks.
'No, burly men don't cry. Buck up. Oh, who am I kidding?' Xander thought. His face fell into his hands. He stayed there a while, just wallowing in his own sorrow, and continued to do so the whole trip to San Francisco.
A small crowd gathered under an unusually gray sky. All dressed in black they surrounded the tombstone. The crowd was made up of a variety of people. There were teenage girls who had known Anya, Buffy, Willow, Dawn, Giles, Faith and Andrew also stood. There was also a variety of demons from her old fold. Xander looked down at the fresh grave. The grass hadn't grown to normal length yet. The tumbling voice of the minister stopped. They all stood for a while, but eventually everyone left. Everyone that is, except for the home team.
"It's getting late." Buffy's voice was a whisper. Xander nodded.
"You guys go back to the hotel. I'm going to stay a while." They all turned, without saying a word. They didn't feel they needed to.
Xander stood by the grave for an hour, remembering happier times. He stood up, it was getting late. But before he left, he dropped a single rose on the grave.