Disclaimer: Not mine, not profiting.
A/N: I'd say it's a tad bit depressing but, well, you read the title.
“Buffy died on a Tuesday. We always knew she would. That’s how it always happened before, after all. That’s why she always gave that little bit of extra effort on Tuesdays.” Dawn broke down for a minute, the lump in her throat so painful she was forced to cough out those embarrassingly childish weeping sounds. At thirty years old, she had hoped to have been able to control herself better, but at the moment – well, she had the right.
She held up a hand when Xander stood, telling him to hold his seat. Telling the large crowd gathered in the church that she would continue her portion of the eulogy in a moment. A few deep breaths, and she managed to reduce the sobs long enough to finish before returning to her seat.
Next up was a redhead. “Hi. I’m Willow. Buffy was … great.” She was silent for a minute, staring at the closed mahogany casket that sat covered in flowers and various religious ornaments. It hid the empty vessel that was Buffy. The damage to her skull had been too great to cosmetically fix.
Willow continued, “The woman that saved the world would have been disappointed in dying from getting hit by a car, in the middle of the day, no less. But the part of her that still had secret dreams of a normal life – I think she’d be kinda happy the way it turned out. I promise, I’ll never ask her.” She looked with meaning at a few the people seated in the pews. A few quiet voices added, “me too” or “I promise”. Willow looked up at the stain glass window at the back of the church. It depicted Jesus talking to children on a hill. “Giles will be with her again. And Joyce, and ... the rest.” Another pause as her eyes rested on the dark wooden box again. Finally, she said “Rest in Peace” and stepped down.
The next to stand and speak was Xander. He looked distinguished in a suit. “Most of us know how amazing Buffy really was. But most of the world never will. So we have to continue on, as her legacy.” He continued for another few minutes before a dark haired girl rose. Then another, and another. By the time they finished, the ceremony had been going on for two and a half hours.
Hank rose from his seat at the back of the full church and left. It had been a touching day, though some of the eulogies were confusing. He was most curious about that woman, Dawn. Buffy had never married, but he didn’t think she was gay. Dawn had been so upset though – more than just friendly-upset.
He drove back toward his hotel. He’d taken two whole days off so he could attend his daughter’s funeral, but he had to fly out early in the morning. Still, he might go out on the town a bit first. He didn’t get many days off.
A/N: Thanks for reading - Let me know what you think.