And What Alice Found There: the finale
“Thanks, guys, for being here.” Xander looked past the flower covered coffin to his friends. “Anya would really appreciate it.”
Buffy nodded and smiled at him. As funerals went, this one hadn’t been too bad. Anya had been dead for over a year, and Xander had already done his crying. Or maybe not. She turned away as Xander wiped at his eyes.
Looking across the small collection of graves, Buffy spotted Angel sitting on a stone bench a few yards away. The others were drifting away and she took that as her cue to do the same thing.
Angel shifted to give Buffy room to sit down next to him. She sat down and leaned against him. “Did the priest make you nervous? You were kinda fidgety.”
“No, the flowers stink.” He wrinkled his nose. “Why marigolds?”
“Rabbits.”
“Rabbits?” Angel turned to look at her, tilting his head in an effort to connect to Buffy logic.
“Anya was afraid of them and they don’t like marigolds. So Xander thought…” She smiled and shrugged. “I thought it was sweet.”
“I guess.” It was a very romantic gesture, one he wouldn’t have expected from Xander. “The rabbits probably don’t like them because they stink.”
Buffy giggled. Angel was probably right, but it was still a really sweet thing for Xander to have done. “If I was scared of rabbits would you buy me marigolds?”
“You’re not scared of rabbits.”
“What if they were really big rabbits with big, fangy teeth?” She held her fingers up to her mouth, mimicking long fangs.
He shook his head. He’d put flowers on Buffy’s grave once, and it wasn’t something he ever planned on doing again. The next time, only his ashes would cover her grave. “You’re not scared of rabbits.” Angel repeated.
Not a romantic bone in his body. Well, she knew that wasn’t true, but he could at least play along with her. Buffy put on a pout, then noticed that Angel wasn’t looking at her; he’d turned his attention back to the grave in front of them.
It was dominated by a large Celtic cross, made of marble if she was any judge of gravestones, which she was. Having spent so much time in cemeteries, Buffy had learned to judge how much someone was loved by the people who’d buried them.
The stone itself was a work of art. Intricately detailed Celtic knots flowed over the stone, coming together in the center to form a heart. It was such a subtle design that at first glance, she hadn’t seen it. The heart flowed naturally out of the circular knots without disrupting their pattern. This was put here by someone who loved this person very much.
Buffy pulled her eyes away from the cross to the stone it rested on. The inscription read simply, Allen Francis Doyle. He gave his life to save others.
She barely remembered Doyle. She’d met him only once and at the time she’d been too busy being angry with Angel to notice anyone else.
Angel was still staring at the cross. Occasionally, he’d blink hard, but he didn’t look away. “Angel, doesn’t it make you uncomfortable?”
“Yeah.” If not for his age and his stubbornness, Angel would have turned away already, if he’d been able to look at it at all.
“It’s beautiful. You picked a good one.”
“I designed it.” Angel told her. “A stone mason carved it for me.” He laughed softly. “He cussed me, then offered me a job.”
“You designed this?” Buffy looked at the cross again. Angel was a wonderful artist, but she’d never seen him draw Celtic knots or anything like this. “It’s beautiful. Tell me what it means.”
Angel smiled as he turned to look at her. She knew him well enough to know he never drew anything without putting part of himself into it. “I chose the circle knots because the duality of the circles represents the duality of Doyle’s nature. He was half-human and half-demon, and he hid the demon part of himself all his life. Right before he died, he’d come to terms with it, and he’d accepted both halves of himself. He even let Cordy see the other side of himself.”
“I thought the circles represented eternity and the eternal cycle of life and death.”
“It does.” He looked again at the marble cross. “That’s the duality of nature.”
“And the heart?” Buffy asked softly.
“Doyle was all heart, Buffy.” For Angel there was no other way to describe Doyle. “Everything he did, he did with everything he had. Including saving those people – those demons.”
Buffy wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing gently. “It’s beautiful. I’m sure he’d like it.”
Angel laughed at that. “Knowing Doyle, he’d tell me I should’ve spent my money on whiskey and women like a good Irishman.”
“Did you design all of them?” She waved her free hand at the other gravestones. While not nearly as large or ornate as Doyle’s, they were beautiful and obviously chosen with a great deal of thought.
Cordelia’s was fancy yet tasteful, Wes’ was solid and traditional, Fred’s had a curved almost childlike look to it, and on the other side of her grave, Gunn’s was simple and clean.
Following the motion of her hand, Angel gazed out at the other graves. “No. I picked them out, but I didn’t design them. Wes picked out Fred’s.”
Thinking of Fred made her sad, and Buffy snuggled against Angel. He’d told her about how Wes had hidden his feelings for Fred and had finally let her know how he felt shortly before she died.
“I like to think they’re in heaven, happy together.” Angel put his arm around Buffy and pulled her closer against his side. Despite what Knox had said, Angel didn’t believe that Illyria had destroyed Fred’s soul.
“Me too.” Buffy rested her head on his shoulder. Things could end so quickly in their life.
At least Wes and Fred had had some time together, no matter how short it had been. It was more than he and Buffy would ever have. “Buffy, there’s something I have to tell you about – about my Shanshu.”
“Don’t.” Leaning back, she looked up at him. “I’m not even hoping for that anymore.”
There was such hurt in the chocolate eyes that Buffy reached up to stroke his face reassuringly. “I don’t mind that you’re a vampire, I really don’t. I don’t have to worry about you getting hurt or not being able to take care of yourself.”
“But – “
“No. No buts.” She pressed her fingertips to his lips to silence him. “We can fight side by side and I don’t have to split my attention worrying about if you’re okay – not that I don’t worry about you – but it’s different, you know?”
Angel pulled her hand away. “I don’t understand, you don’t want me to be human? We could be together.”
“For how long? Angel, even with all these girls we’ve found, we still fight and we still die. How long do I have?” Tears welled up, and she blinked them away. “Let’s say I live another couple of years – or let’s be generous and say five more. Then what? I die and you live another thirty or forty years alone? Or worse – you die first because – because – “
“Buffy – “ He wiped away the tear that slid down her cheek, grateful once again that she'd healed without scarring. “With the curse we may never be able to be together the way we want to be.”
“So? I’d rather have what we have while we have it than wish for something we can never have. Or that might not be worth having.”
“It doesn’t bother you that I’m a vampire? You wouldn’t rather have me as a man?”
“No.” Buffy smiled at the confused look on his face. “You’re the one who’s made it an issue, not me. I’ve never cared that you’re a vampire.”
“You screamed when you found out.” He reminded her.
“That was so totally different!” Snuggling back into his arms, Buffy tucked her head under his chin. “We were smooching, you growled, and then suddenly you were Mr. Fangy. You’d have screamed, too.”
“I would not. I might have been startled, cussed a little, but I wouldn’t have screamed. I especially wouldn’t have screamed like some little girl.” Angel laughed as she nipped his throat. “Hey, biting is a sign of affection for vampires, better watch it.”
Buffy nipped his throat again, holding the skin between her teeth for a tantalizing moment. Angel pulled her closer, resting his cheek against her hair. ”I love you, too.”
The prompts used in this chapter are:
killing time
new shoes
minute by minute
double jeopardy
it was only a dream
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