"Into every generation a slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the slayer." Giles took a moment to collect himself, and then continued. He recited every prophecy that Buffy had fulfilled, destroyed, or somehow subverted. He said each one as if it was the most sacred of scripture (some were scripture), sometimes adding a few lines of his own. When he finished, he put his paper down and looked at the small crowd. He looked each in the eyes as he spoke. "And in the end, death was her gift. She will always be the Slayer. She will always be our dearest, most loyal friend. She will always be my daughter, in every sense of the word that matters. We will carry on her legacy, and though her soul is far away and her body empty, she will live on in us. Each one of us at some time or another had our lives saved by Buffy. Each time she saved us, she gave us a part of her. As we continue living, that piece of her lives on as well. Thank you." Giles placed a flower on her coffin, and took his seat by Anya.
Anya didn't speak, but she put two flowers on the coffin. One was a simple daisy, and the other looked like it had been plucked from a hell dimension… which it may have. She then returned and sat next to Xander, who stood.
"She's Buffy. It didn't matter what kind of nasty I was about to get eaten by, I knew she would come. If I just heard her voice, it was instant. I just relaxed and smiled, cuz I knew she was there. I believed in her and always knew she'd pull through. It was more than that, though. She… she wasn't perfect or anything. She made mistakes and messed up. She gave up a few times. But she always kept getting up. And… even though Slayers have been doing what she does alone for thousands of years or however long, and even though she is gallons of times better than all of them, she had us by her side. She wanted us there. And we wanted to be there. Every time. Didn't matter the danger. Didn't even notice the danger at some point. I love you, Buffy." Pulling a crumpled flower from his pocket, he laid it tenderly next to Giles's.
Willow stood, and smiled softly at her friends in the front row. Behind them were about four rows of others. Some demons, some humans. Some from Sunnydale, some from L.A. or other areas. Some she knew well, some she didn't know hardly at all. Giles had some seer find people who knew and loved Buffy, like Anne, a girl from LA, who they'd never met. She was crying softly into the chest of a handsome looking man. Willow wondered briefly how she knew Buffy, how Buffy had changed her life.
"When I met Buffy, I thought she was just another airheaded Cordelia groupie—uh, no offense." Willow nodded to the named brunette, who just shrugged. "Buffy proved to me that people could be more than what people thought of them, more than what they thought of themselves. A girly-girl could be the vampire slayer. A librarian could be part of an ancient society of watchers—and a former bad-boy-warlock, I might add." A chuckle. "A biology teacher could be a praying mantis. A vampire could have a soul. Or, you know, a chip." Another chuckle. "And… and a girl with no confidence and little self-respect could become someone, too. A witch. A robotics engineer. A demonology expert. We all became someone new because of Buffy. Sometimes that someone new wasn't a good thing… hyena boy." A louder chuckle. "But we all kept becoming. Changing. Growing. Now we're here, and she's not… and that sucks. Because she won't see who we keep becoming. She's affected us forever. Upward mobility and all that. We're all headed somewhere we didn't even know existed before we met her. And I'll always love her for that and a thousand other reasons." Willow caught a single tear, regained her composure, and turned to the coffin.
Putting her hand in the air, she whispered a few incantations, and a beautiful, exotic flower appeared. It floated in the air for a second, above the coffin, before bursting into light. Many smaller versions of the flower floated down to the top of the coffin and surrounded the other flowers.
Dawn got up next, and placed a pink flower on the coffin. She lingered there for a moment.
"Her last words… I'll never forget them. One thing she said was 'the hardest thing about this world, is to live in it.' Buffy was life, even if death was her gift."
Sitting down, she squeezed Tara and Willow's hands.
Tara stood up next, and walked gracefully to the front of the crowd.
"I didn't know Buffy for as long as some of you, but… I'll always love her." Lifting her hand, all of the flowers on the coffin came alive, and they sprouted leaves and stems. They intertwined, forming a beautiful circle. Instead of landing on the coffin, it floated to the ground around her gravestone. New stems sprouted, and took root in the ground. "This was Buffy's power. She took in the ones that were different. Former watchers. Former demons, current demons, witches…carpenter-slash-she-demon magnets. She didn't care. She took us all… and knitted us together. If-if you have a flower, please come and place it here. The spell will continue to accept new flowers until the ceremony is over."
After she sat down, people began filing forward one by one. There were all sorts of flowers offered. Some were hastily grabbed from nearby shrubbery, some had been carefully chosen and somehow represented their feelings for her. Some were from this world, common but beautiful, some were exotic and other-worldly.
By the end, a beautiful circle of flowers surrounded the headstone.
The coffin was lowered into the grave, and one by one, they each threw a handful of dirt on the coffin.
Angel motioned to Giles on his way back from the ceremony.
"Giles… I'm needed back in L.A. But, if you need anything…"
"I know how to find you. Thank you for coming, it would have meant a lot for her.
"Thank you for the overcast day. Or maybe I should thank the witches." He said, smiling over at the girls.
"Well… Meteorologists will be a little confused, but Sunnydale isn't known for its predictable weather patterns. Besides, I should be thanking you for this… uh… peace spell. Buffy's friends and uh, acquaintances aren't know for being stable."
"Thank Lorne—the Pylean. Well, like I said… a phone call away." Angel shook the watchers hand grimly, and turned to Dawn.
"Hey, Dawny." Pulling her into a tight embrace, he repeated the words he'd given Giles. "I'm sorry I can't stay."
"It's okay… I know how to find you. And be safe, okay? I can't… I don't want to lose-"
"Don't worry, it's okay. I've escaped a hell dimension, right? Willow, how hard is it to escape a hell dimension?"
"Um… impossible, usually?" Willow smiled at Angel, glad to see that he made it after all.
"See what I mean? So don't worry about it. I'll be around whenever you want me to." Pulling back from the embrace, he wiped away Dawn's tears. "So don't you worry one bit."
"Hey, Dawny. Willow." Cordelia was here now, all hugs and support. Buffy really did change people. Even in death. She even smiled at Xander and Anya.
"Cordelia, my dear. Thanks for coming. It would have meant a lot to Buffy. We're having a get-together at her house, later. If you, Angel, and Wesley would like to join. Oz will be there as well."
"Yeah. We're planning to get drunk and stuff." Xander offered, covering Dawn's ears protectively.
"I'd like that. Let me go talk to everyone, make sure that's okay. We've got a crazy… uh… situation at home right now, have to make a few calls."
"Of course, Angel. Just come by if you can.
There was indeed drinking. There was crying, there was laughing. Everyone came—the whole Scooby gang. Together again. Reminiscing, ordering take-out food, finding out secrets that seemed so important to hide at the time. Everyone had a story to tell. As the night rolled on, Dawn finally couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.
"I'll take her upstairs." Angel offered, picking her up easily. "Is someone going on a beer run?"
"That's me. Werewolves don't get drunk as easily as humans. Kinda sucks, actually." Oz grabbed his coat and his keys, and headed out the door.
"Alright Dawney… Off to bed."
Dawn mumbled something incoherently, and readjusted herself, throwing her arms around Angel's neck.
Angel carefully arranged her on the bed, and put the covers over her. Before heading back downstairs, Angel took a moment to just be in Buffy's house. Pretend she was going to turn the corner, flip the light on in her room… wait a second.
Quietly leaving Dawn's room and closing the door, Angel headed to Buffy's room. Someone's in her room… no wait, someTHING.
"Spike." Angel didn't bother to turn the light on. He knew who was in there—could feel him near all night, but hadn't bothered to investigate. Hadn't given it much thought, really.
"Ponce." Spike responded, offering a mocking bow of the head and raising his beer bottle before taking a swig. He was sitting on the floor of Buffy's room, back leaning against the wall. Right under the window where Angel had first kissed Buffy.
Not really knowing what Spike was up to or where he stood, Angel just stood in the doorway.
"What, you want a bottle? Cuz you can't have any. Always bloody takin my things."
Angel could hear the slur in his voice. He'd been drinking for a while now.
"What are you up to, Spike? Planning on getting so smashed you can't feel the chip in your head, then attack? Or you just going to sit up here and mope? Or, I don't know… Stake yourself?" Angel was trying to get a rise out of him, Spike could tell. Wasn't sure why. Not that Angel'd ever really needed a reason, by his estimation.
"Shut it, Angelus. I can still fight… demons. Stake you in a heartbeat. If I had one."
Angel caught the use of his former name. Sighing, he walked further into the room and sat down across from Spike, resting against Buffy's bed.
"You gonna give me a beer or make me beat it out of you, boy?" Spike almost snorted, and passed him one from his stash.
"It's light. Cuz you're… light. Lightweight. Poof." Spike abandoned his attempt at an insult, and took another swig. "Always a poof."
"And you've always been a pain in my neck." Angel popped the top off his beer, and drank deeply. "Ugh… tastes like piss. Where'd you get this, anyway?"
"Bloody America, 's where. Why'd we leave Rome and come here, anyway Angelus?"
Looking closer at Spike, Angel noticed several gashes on his face. He'd been picking fights with demons, no doubt.
"The Immortal, remember? We uh… decided to let him off easy. Couldn't bother with killing the fool." Angel found himself slipping into his Irish brogue. "We could always go back, kill him right and proper."
Spike looked like he was considering it for a minute before shrugging it off.
"Nah. Not worth it. Sides… wouldn't want Darla and Dru havin ta go back. Relive memories and all."
"Hey. I've got booze."
"Oh, Oz. We were just talking about that time Buffy was a rat."
"Oh yeah, good times. Oh, did Angel leave?" Oz looked around, but the souled vampire wasn't in sight.
"Oh… no, he's here. Did he not come back downstairs?" Willow looked around briefly, only just now noticing he wasn't there. "I'll go check. Gotta use the little girl's room anyway." Willow detangled herself from Tara and moved Xander aside.
Oz set the beer down on the ground and took a spot on the floor, listening to Xander tell the story to all those who hadn't been present.
Willow checked Dawn's room first, and found her sleeping soundly. She was getting tangled in her dress, so Willow went to the drawers and pulled out some PJ's. She would be embarrassed at the help in the morning when she realized, but Willow figured the invasion of privacy was worth it. Besides, she'd use magic, so it wasn't even like she was really doing it.
Having made Dawn nice and comfy, willow close the door to her room and resumed her Angel-hunt. She decided to check the bathroom first, but then she heard low voices coming from Buffy's room.
On alert, she summoned the magicks intuitively and walked to the bedroom door.
"…think, Angelus? If we teamed up, we could probly just off 'im." Angelus? That… that can't be. Willow closed her eyes and focused. She could feel it—his soul. Angel was still Angel. And that other voice… Spike?
"Darla wouldn't like it, you know." Angel's voice sounded different, but… wait, did he say Darla? She's dead, isn't she?
"Doesn't have ta know it's us.
"What's the point of killin the Master if we can't tell anyone? That's like killin' a girl—"
"Without makin her cry. Yeah yeah, I know." Willow's blood went cold for a second. But… the Master was definitely dead.
"Guess I could finally teach you something. Didn't even have ta beat you or sleep with Drusilla ta do it."
Snorts of laughter, the sounds of drinking.
Oh… Willow thought. Smiling to herself, she went back downstairs.
"Where's Angel?" Cordy asked, grabbing herself a new beer.
"Just having a walk down memory lane. He'll be down later, probably."
"Hey Willow… guess what…" Anya was the most drunk of all of them. Her human constitution was just not cut out to hold her alcohol. "We just figured out… that Spikes name is William."
"Very good, Anya." Willow smirked, and sat down between Xander and Oz.
"No, there's more! And Angel's name is Liam. Which is the Irish version of William. And you're Willow! And that's the girl version of William! You're all William! Hahahahahah!" Anya kept laughing until her laughter became snorting and she sat down, thoroughly pleased with herself. "You're… all William… hahah…" her laughter quieting, Anya took another drink.
"That's… true. Huh. Never thought about that. We should make a club."
Morning rolled around, and one by one the grievers began to wake up. Angel had come back downstairs eventually, and was now sleeping in one of the safe, dark corners. Everyone else was sprawled here or there, trying to get some sleep and peace while they could.
Tara was the first to wake up, and decided to make some nice pancakes. Funny shapes. Well… funny shapes by default, because rounds always seemed to come out funny shaped anyway.
She was joined soon by Oz, who offered to help.
"Hey Tara… thanks for takin care of Willow. I mean it. I can tell you're good for her."
"Thank you, Oz. I…" Tara paused for a moment, considering the man before her. "I know she really loved you. And… there's a piece of her that will always be yours, you know." The two shared a tender smile, and got to work making a nice breakfast.
Soon, everyone had filed in, thanking Tara an Oz for the pancakes and coffee.
"Gonna need that if I'm driving back to L.A. today."
"Mmm… pancakes…"
"Dawny, good to see you up and at em."
Angel pulled Willow aside into the hallway.
"Listen, Willow, last night I heard you outside the door. Just so you know, I still have my soul."
"I know, smart-guy. If you didn't I'd be re-ensouling you right now. Or, staking you." Willow smiled up at him knowingly.
"Oh, okay then. It's just, Spike… he was really drunk, and had gotten hit in the head a bunch of times. And he's grieving, in a weird, Spike kind of way."
"And he wanted to pretend for a moment that he hadn't lost his whole vampire family, gotten a chip in his head and fallen in love with the Slayer he'd wanted to kill, then lost her after having sworn to protect her and her sister. Yeah. I figured it out."
"Okay… good. So, not gonna stake me?"
"Stake free. Is he still up there?"
"I don't know, maybe. He was hurt pretty bad, but he should be healing up. I gave him some blood last night."
"Oh. I didn't know we had blood in the house—oh, unless you brought some. Which is fine. Mi casa—well, not MI casa. Um, anyway, that's good. Hope he heals up." Turning from Angel, Willow walked back into the kitchen, barely noticing from the corner of her eye the cut on Angel's wrist, just barely peeking out from under his jacket. She didn't really register what that meant until later that day, when her head wasn't pounding so much.
"Cordy, Wesley, Lorne is here with the car." Grabbing a blanket from the sofa and promising to return it, Angel made his final good-byes to Dawn and the rest of the gang. Cordy was giving them all tight hugs and making them promise to call, and visit them in L.A. sometime.
He hadn't really realized how much he'd missed this place. The familiar smell, the feeling of safety. He also hadn't realized how painful it would be to know Buffy wasn't going to run down those stairs any minute with a 'Sorry, hair was having one of those piss-Buffy-off days,' looking for all the world like a goddess.
It was good to leave. He wasn't needed here anyways, not really. L.A. was where he was needed.
"And they were… pretending it was back before the angel-with-a-soul days?"
"I don't know if pretend is the right word. But yeah, Angel had an Irish accent and everything."
"R-really? Wow. It's hard to imagine. It was my first time meeting him though, so I guess I wouldn't really know." Tara took another sip. "So… why?"
"Well… I figure it was mostly for Spike. Angel doesn't like him—like, at all—but I bet he felt sorry for him. And responsible, I guess. Was letting him have a night where things were simple again. I think everyone would want a night like that. Sometimes I would."
Tara took another sip of her coffee, and looked up at Willow thoughtfully.
"I guess that's true."
From behind them, they heard the familiar sound of the Magic Box's bell. They looked up, and saw Xander stride in with Dawn in tow.
"Ladies. Anyone trying to destroy the world?" They both shook their heads. "Unnatural killings? Weather patterns? Crop circles? No? Okay. Then I'll be leaving Dawn with you and heading out. Call me if there's an apocalypse."
"Hey Dawney."
"Hey. What're you working on?"
"Schematics for the Buffy-bot. Just trying to figure out how to fix it."
"Oh, okay. Anything I can do to help?"
Willow looked over at Dawn, then back down at the pages she had in front of her.
"Um… not with this, no. Tara could use some help, though. She's researching some protective spells and such." Willow smiled over at Tara, who tossed Dawn a book. A very non-lethal, extremely low-level Wicca book.
"Oh, research, cool!" Dawn dove into it, happy to be a part of the team.