Prompt: #039, Funeral.
Wordcount: 1,384 (7 of 100)
Note: This is set in the universe of my ficlet Gone, and occurs after Prompt #036.
AN:The feedback and comments are much appreciated.
Staring out of the window at the pouring rain, Dawn could feel Amanda watching her from the door to her bedroom in their hotel suite. Looking over her shoulder at the older woman, Dawn broke the silence. "Yes?" She asked quietly.
"Why are we really here?" Amanda asked. "You didn't run off to other funerals when you heard that people from your past had died."
"Have you ever had a chance to say goodbye?" Dawn asked curiously, indirectly answering her question.
"Many times." She admitted.
"It never gets any easier does it." Dawn asked.
"No." Amanda admitted.
"Is that why we always run away from our families?" Dawn asked. "Because we're cowards?"
Amanda was silent, her expression just one step away from the one that she used in the rare moments when her true age showed. She shrugged.
"She asked me to come. To say the few words for her that she couldn't tell them herself." Dawn told her after another long moment of silence, before returning to the window. "I couldn't refuse. I can't help that I love my sister. It will hurt very much when she truly dies." She took a shuddering breath. "But Faith... Faith was special. She never expected anything from any of us, not even love. But she was always there when I really needed her." Dawn shrugged. "I'll never be able to repay her in the way she deserved."
"It's more than that." Amanda insisted. "When your Giles died you got drunk and insisted on writing his name in bright orange paint on that statue in London." Dawn laughed in remembrance. Even with the near-photographic memory that came from being immortal, that week was very cloudy in her mind. But her small act still felt like a fitting tribute to him.
"And that isn't the only time you've done something like that." Amanda said. "But this is the first time we've come to one of their funerals."
"She's the last... and the first." Dawn admitted reluctantly. She continued before the obviously confused immortal could ask for an explanation. "She was the last surviving core member of my sister's crowd when I was growing up. Buffy is the only one left."
"And the first what?" Amanda prompted, dropping down onto the sole chair in the room, sitting there with the practiced elegance only centuries of living could provide.
Dawn could feel herself blushing faintly. "The first real crush I had, on a girl anyway. Not that I ever told her." She admitted.
"Oh..." Amanda looked at her in surprise. "We should probably get ready." She told Dawn, before rising to her feet and leaving the room.
Turning around slowly, Dawn looked at herself in the full length mirror that graced one wall of her bedroom. She'd chosen her clothes for the funeral and memorial service very carefully, with Faith in mind. Form-fitting black leather pants, a red leather top that left her stomach and Glory induced scars bare for all to see, and her most comfortable leather boots. All topped off with her favorite long leather jacket that fell softly to just below her knees while also hiding her sword from view.
"Why are you dressed like that?" Amanda asked, walking back into the room, wrinkling her nose at Dawn's outfit. "Have things changed that much in the last decade?"
Dawn ignored the comments and looked her companion up and down in barely hidden delight. As always, no matter what the occasion, Amanda had managed to dress very elegantly in a long black leather skirt that set off the black silk blouse she wore. She was sure to attract the attention of even the most jaded male. Dawn had seen her use her appearance as a very effective distraction in the past but wondered if it would work with the people they were about to join.
"They aren't going to notice me." She told her. "They'll be too busy seeing you. It's too bad this is personal. We could really have some fun."
"We could still do that." Amanda said, grinning at the thought.
"No. Forget I said that." Dawn groaned. "We aren't going to do anything to attract the attention of the witches and other extremely dangerous people who will be there."
"Dawn!" Amanda pouted briefly before laughing at her partner in crime. "Okay. No fleecing the mourners."
They sat in the back during the memorial service that followed the brief funeral. Dawn wasn't surprised that she didn't recognize very many of the people who stood up to speak. She'd kept track of the Scoobies over the years but hadn't given much thought to the Council itself.
Her sister's words were brief but even from a distance her grief was palpable. She was followed by two tall women, both redheads, one supporting the other who was clearly just as upset as her sister had been. She wondered why the younger of them looked vaguely familiar. "Do you recognize either of them?" she asked Amanda quietly.
Amanda frowned for a moment. "The younger one looks like the girl who brought you the letter last month."
"Oh." Dawn looked closer. "You're right." she said, sitting back in her seat as the older woman began to speak from the podium.
"She always thought she was living on borrowed time..." she began.
Dawn listened with only half an ear once she saw where the tribute was going. She didn't have any desire to listen to someone else trying to explain Faith's attitude towards life and why she would be missed. It was going to be hard enough going up there herself.
The older woman stopped to take a deep breath. "Faith never planned for the future. She always acted like she was moments from dying. But this memorial service was her idea." She shrugged helplessly. "She requested that we spend the the rest of the day partying for her since she can't do it herself. And she promised to come back and haunt us if we didn't party like she would." Laughter came from several points in the room. "But first... she asked that an old friend be allowed to speak last."
A quiet voice startled Dawn out of her thoughts. "It's your turn." The voice told her. Looking up, she saw standing next to her the young slayer who'd been with the witch who'd brought her the letter. Shakily Dawn rose to her feet, half tempted to run out of the room. But look over at Amanda, she could see her shaking her head, seemingly reading her mind. They'd worked together long enough for Amanda to know what she was thinking.
Squaring her shoulders, Dawn strode up to the podium, doing her best to ignore the reaction her presence was generating. She removed her jacket, taking the letter out of a pocket before draping it over a nearby chair.
"I'm not really sure why I'm here." she began. "Everything I could say has already been said by someone else. I hadn't even spoken with her in over twenty years." She sighed. "But she seemed to think that I should have the last word and pass along several messages for her. I've never been able to tell her no, so here I am."
Dawn looked at the assembled people, picking out several shocked faces in the crowd, including her sister's. "There are so many things she wanted to say. What family she had is here, in this room. She wanted no one to forget that." Dawn paused for another moment before reading through the small list of comments from Faith, stopping a few times to wipe her eyes.
Dawn frowned as she watched her sister approach from across the room, weaving between the dancers. She could feel Amanda's hand on her shoulder, squeezing it in support. Buffy stood in front of her, staring intently at her face for a minute, as if memorizing it, before she spoke.
"You and your friend." She nodded at Amanda."My office. Now." She didn't give them any time to object, walking stiffly out of the room. Dawn sighed. She wasn't looking forward to this.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Amanda asked falling in step beside her as they followed Buffy. "She can't kill you."
Dawn just gave her a look, not saying anything.