A/N - This chapter does contain an original character, based on a friend of mine. But I think she's a bit more evolved than a Mary Sue. :) This chapter deals with the gang's grief at Buffy's funeral and their decision about whether or not to carry on the battle against evil.

They wept again at Buffy's funeral. The gang tried to be strong for each other, but they each drifted away to their homes to grieve in their own manner.

But Giles stayed, the Watcher in him needing to stand vigil for Buffy a little longer, unwilling to say goodbye. He stood stoically at the foot of Buffy's gravestone, reading it silently to himself, thinking back over the things he had done over the past few days, the terror and anger that had overwhelmed them all.

"She saved the world a lot," he thought. "Indeed. But when she needed me, I couldn't save her."

His back ramrod straight, staring into the distance, he let the tears fall that he had held back for the rest of the gang.

"Excuse me," came a soft voice. "Are you alright?"

Wiping his eyes briskly, Giles turned, finding a pair of dark eyes looking into his. She brushed her dark hair off her face, extended her hand with a soft smile.

"I'm Bess," she said. "I'm not usually one to stalk random people in the woods, but I was out for a walk and could nearly physically sense the pain coming from you. I thought you might need a sympathetic ear that wasn't involved in the situation."

"Giles," he said by way of introduction. "I've spent a lot of time around graves the past five years."

"Lost a lot of friends?" she said quietly.

"Something like that."

"Someone close to you?" she asked, gesturing to the new grave.

"Almost a daughter."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too," he said. "Me too."

"Listen," Bess said quietly, sensing his desire to be alone. "You need some time to grieve. Don't be afraid to take it. But if you need a listening ear, don't be afraid to call." She wrote her phone number on a small slip of paper and handed it to him.

"Thank you," Giles said, his accent more crisp than usual. "I ... I help a group of young people and I needed to be strong for them. I appreciated the listening ear."

She stuck her hand out again and Giles clasped it. She reached around and clasped his arm, quietly appreciating the feel of his strong bicep, but sending a soft wave of peace to him through her physical contact.

"Be well, Mr. Giles," she said as she walked away, her long brown hair wafting gently in the breeze. He watched her go, wondering slightly at what had transpired, but grief overtook him again.

Willow and Tara lay side by side in bed. Willow stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles for the hundredth time that night, thinking over her five-year friendship with Buffy, thinking over the past few days. She looked over at Tara, remembering again how Glory had cruelly ripped Tara's mind from her.

Willow began to weep silently. Joyce...Tara...Buffy...all within the scope of a few months.

Tara stirred.

"Are you alright, Wil?" Tara asked, turning over to face her. Noting the tears, she wiped them away gently with her thumb and gave Willow a gentle kiss.

"I can't believe she's gone," Willow said brokenly. "I can still feel her here with me."

"I can still feel my mom with me," Tara said. "But I still miss her."

"I just keep wondering if we can go on like before," Willow said. "She's dead for real this time. Not just away...The world still needs someone willing to face evil."

"You are the strongest person I know," Tara said. "If it's meant to be, you'll find a way to do it

"Thanks, sweetie," Willow said with a lopsided smile. "I know I'm grieving for Buffy, but I missed you. I'm so glad to have you back." She snuggled closer to Tara, resting her head on her shoulder. Tara put her arm around Willow and the two eventually drifted back to sleep.

The next day, the gang met at the Magic Shop to discuss whether to continue patrols or whether their time fighting evil was at an end.

"Giles, what do you think?" Xander asked. "We did it before, we can do it again."

"No," said Anya. "Buffy's dead. We're getting married. I'm not having you in danger. A dead fiance can't make money or give orgasms."

"Your concern for Xander's safety is overwhelming, Anya," said Giles, briskly polishing his glasses.

"But without something to stand in the gap, the vamps will drain this place dry," Willow argued.

"I don't know if I'm even a Watcher anymore, or what responsibilities I have to you," Giles said tiredly. "My Slayer is dead. It's up to you."

Tara said quietly, "I don't want to get killed anymore than the rest of you. But if nothing else, we can do it in her memory. She was strong for us; we can be strong for her."

They all were quiet for a moment.

"Dawn," said Willow. "We can't have you in trouble. Your situation is precarious enough as it stands. You stay here with Giles, we'll go on patrol tonight."

"But Glory's gone ..." Dawn protested.

"No, Dawn," Willow said sternly. "I told you to live for me."

Dawn blinked.

"Will? She ... Buffy said that."

"I must've heard her say that," Willow replied. "I'm sorry. My brain feels like it's been through a blender. It just came out funny."

Dawn nodded. "If you say so."

The gang rummaged through the chest of weapons that they had brought from Buffy's home, choosing their favorite weapons. Tara tilted her head to the side as Willow grabbed a hefty battleaxe instead of her usual stake and holy water.

"Going for the big guns today?" Tara asked.

"Just want to be ready," Willow replied.

Xander looked oddly at Willow but didn't say a word. Weapons in hand, the group headed out, ready for action.