Title: "One Peaceful Night"Author: Fuer Grissa Ost DraukaRating: PG-13, little bit of swearingSummary: The moonlight glinted off the highly polished black wood... They did a good job picking it out; he couldn't help thinking, morbid as it sounded.Spoilers: Anything up until the end of season 5 (that includes "The Gift") is fair game.Author Notes: This was just a short story that I had to write for my English class. I doubt there'll be any more to it... unless, of course, my teacher decides to have us extend it.Disclaimer: don't own any of it.
He leaned against a tree, watching from a distance as her coffin was lowered into the ground. Her family and friends were all gathered around, so he didn’t get any closer than he was now. They had never liked him, and he knew he wouldn’t be welcome at something as personal and sacred to them as this. Her funeral.
The moonlight glinted off the highly polished black wood, drawing his gaze. They did a good job picking it out; he couldn’t help thinking, morbid as it sounded. The coffin was something that she would’ve picked out for herself, given the choice. Maybe she had. Buffy wasn’t a fool, after all. In her line of work, death could come at anytime. She knew that, just like he did. Planning for the future was a luxury people like them didn’t have. It was something her friends hadn’t really understood. Something she had tried to shield them from as much as possible.
He wearily reached into his leather jacket for the pack of cigarettes he always kept with him. Empty. Damn.
He sighed slightly. She had never liked it when he smoked anyways. Thought it was disgusting. As badly as he may want one, the least he could do for her was not smoke at her funeral.
Each of them had taken their turn to speak, but at this distance, the words were just a muffled whisper, nearly inaudible, even to him. Not that it mattered anyway. The words were meaningless; nothing they said was enough. It would never be enough. How could you encompass a person’s entire life in just a few short meaningless phrases? It just wasn’t possible. She had done so much, for him, for everyone. It could never be enough.
He was so lost in his musings, that he almost didn’t notice that Xander had noticed him. He stiffened slightly as the boy strode indignantly towards him.
“What the hell, are you doing here, Spike?”
He shrugged indifferently, irritating Xander further. “ ‘m just standin’ ‘ere. Don’ see how that’s any of your bloody business.”
Xander grabbed the front of his shirt in a threatening gesture, one that had no effect, other than a raised brow. “You know what I mean! It was bad enough you were always hanging around her when she was alive; just leave her alone, dammit.”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the idiot, but settled for removing the boy’s fists from his shirt and shoving him away, roughly. “She don’ need you pickin’ her friends. Never did, but that was always somethin’ you never could deal with, wasn't it?”
“What the hell, is that supposed to mean?”
“ ‘s just what it sounds like. The bint was strong. She never needed you mucking up her life tryin’ to be her ‘knight in judging armor’.”
“I never did that to her,” Xander vehemently denied.
“Yeah, you did. Always tellin’ her what she should do, and anytime she did something that your lot didn’t approve of, you-”
“Will you two stop it,” Willow moved between the two, effectively separating them. “It’s her funeral
, for crying out loud! Do you really think she’d want you both arguing like this?” Red was furious, and she had every right to be.
Buffy would’ve hated it. Fighting at her funeral. Her entire life had been about the fight.
Wasn’t she entitled to one night of peace?The End.