ANGST WARNING AHEAD. This part, definitely 15, and maybe 16 will be angsty. After that, I'll stop my sadism and get our girls back together. I don't mean to torture you, I just believe that the greater the angst, the sweeter the reunion. Or maybe not cuz W/T goodness minus angst is sweet too.
One more thing Kittens, this update is late because I started a new job last week and my schedule is crazy these days. So, sorry to say, but updates will be a little further apart then usual.
Thanks for you your comments, feedback, and patience Kittens. PEACE … Dix
PART 14
"Are you sure you can pull it off?" asked the tall, fair skinned man as he handed over a large wad of bills.
"I said I could, didn't I? Chester always makes good." Came the reply as the greedy little man snatched at the money, only to have it pulled away at the last second.
"Yeah, Chester bloody well make good or Chester will find out what the 'Big Bad' is about." Spike flicked his lit cigarette at the man, "Got it?"
The slimy little man patted vigorously at his chest where the butt hit. "Ah, damn. No need to get testy. I can handle it."
"Good for you then, here." The former vampire handed over the thick stack of bills.
Chester's eyes lit up and his smile reached ear to ear, as he accepted the money. "Be at the airport tomorrow night. I'll meet you at the service station at eleven o'clock. If anyone asks, tell them that you're here to see me. You'll be on a plane by tomorrow, and in America the day after that." Said the crook as he tucked the money into his pocket and walked away.
Spike watched the man go as he leaned against the wall behind him. Chester tripped and cursed about the nick in his shoe before turning the corner and walking back to his car. The former vampire just shook his head as he pushed off the wall, "Wanker."
Now, what to do for the next 14 hours.
"I can't do this, Buffy."
The slayer rose from her seated position at the desk, trying to disturb as little as possible in the room. The dorm room and its contents were the only connection that Willow had left of Tara and Buffy didn't want to take anything away from that.
"Willow," she started comfortingly, "Can you not do it? You'll never forgive yourself if you don't go."
The redhead walked over to the bed and sat down carefully. She reached over and pulled Tara's pillow to her. She wrapped her arms around it, hugged it tightly and inhaled the scent of her lover that still clung to the material.
Willow looked up at her friend, her eyes fills with tears, as they had been the entire morning, "If I go … I have to say goodbye. A funeral makes everything permanent … it's final. It means it's really over. The end."
"But if you don't go, you never get to say goodbye and you can never get that chance back."
"Funerals have caskets." Willow said quietly as the tears poured down her cheeks.
"Yeah." The slayer answered equally quietly as she sat down on the floor next to Willow's legs.
"Caskets are for people who aren't alive any more … for people who are dead."
Buffy wiped at her eyes and nodded, not able to find her voice.
Willow stared blankly at the floor, "She's dead … Tara … she's gone and she's nev-"
"Willow," interrupted Buffy, not wanting her friend to start down that path.
The redhead let the rest of the sentence fade and she nodded. Willow stared down at her clenched hands for several minutes trying to force her mind from her current train of thoughts. Moments later she unclenched her hands and smoothed out the wrinkles on the pillow and carefully replaced it on the bed.
Buffy stood, "Willow, we should go."
The redhead sighed and then stood, her eyes still fixed on the pillow that Tara once used, but never would again.
"We have to be there by two."
Willow nodded and turned towards her friend and the door, pulling her eyes away from the bed. The redhead crossed the room behind her friend and stopped in the doorway, she turned and looked back one more time. Tears welled up in green eyes and Willow swallowed the lump in her throat before walking across the threshold and pulling the door shut behind her.
"Good afternoon, welcome to Milner's Funeral Home," said the funeral director as he stepped aside to welcome the gentlemen at his front door, "My name is Albert Lurch, how may I help you today mister…"
The short, tight featured man stepped into the funeral parlor followed by a younger version of himself, "Maclay, and I'm here about my daughter."
It was a dark, somber afternoon. The gray sky was barely visible behind the large, grim looking clouds that littered the sky. The occasional rumble of thunder would echo across the town, threatening to open up the sky and let the rain pour down. A cool wind seemed to whipping through and circling the town, it was an unusually cold May day in Sunnydale.
Buffy looked up at the dreary sky and sighed, it did seem fitting, she just hoped that it wouldn't rain until after the service. The slayer lowered her gaze when she heard approaching footsteps. Xander gave her a sad smile and a little wave as he moved down the walkway and up the steps to the porch of the funeral home.
The young construction worker walked to his friend and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace, "How goes it?" he asked softly.
Buffy just nodded against his chest, refusing to leave the hug.
"Did Giles handle everything okay?"
The slyer nodded and said something into her friends chest.
"Courtney Love?" her parroted, confused
The slayer turned her head slightly so she could speak more clearly, "Sort of. We had to drop all things Wicca from the service so Tara could have a 'Proper Christian Burial.' In exchange, the bastards don't try to take her back home. She gets to be buried in Sunnydale."
Xander bit off a curse and tightened his arms around his friend, "Is the loving family here?"
"Not yet," Buffy looked up, "How did things go with the police?"
"They think Warren just took off, they basically stopped by to ask what direction he ran. They didn't ask anything about dark eyed, magical revenge Willow."
"I guess that means that we're okay with the not getting arrested for murder then."
"I don't know if I'd call it murder, more like just-"
"Xander," Buffy warned pulling back.
The construction worker pulled his friend back to him, "I know. It's just the anger talking."
Buffy retreated to the embrace, "It's okay, I understand about anger."
"Is Willow here?" he asked, resting his chin on top of the cropped, blonde head.
"She's in there, but she hasn't gone into the viewing room yet. I think that, she thinks that as long as she doesn't see her, there's still a chance you know? It's like, Willow's pretending that she's here for someone else's funeral and not Tara's."
Xander pulled back and looked at his friend, "Maybe it's not such a good idea that she's here. I coul-"
"She has to be here." Interrupted Buffy as she stepped back and leaned against the porch rail. "Willow has to say goodbye."
"I hate this." Xander rubbed his hands over his face, irritated, "I so totally
hate this."
Buffy opened her mouth to reply, when Dawn appeared in the doorway. The teen looked tired, and far older then her mere fifteen years. "She wants you … She's ready to go in."
The first thing you would notice when walking into the room would be the flowers. The substantial volume was enough to catch your attention, but if it didn't then their beauty would. There were foreign and exotic flowers, bouquets of roses, every color you could imagine, and a few you couldn't.
The arrangement of flowers and bouquets were almost enough to overshadow the misery that the coffin amidst it all represented. Almost, if you didn't know the young woman, in her eternal sleep, who lay in the coffin.
Willow had a death grip on the slayers bicep and it tightened even more when they stopped in the doorway of the viewing room. Buffy watched troubled green eyes fall on the coffin and Willow's breathing picked up and she squeezed her eyes shut.
"You going to be sick again?" the slayer asked when Willow brought her hand to her mouth.
Willow shook her head slowly and opened her eyes, "No."
"You don't have to do this now," offered the slayer, "We still have time."
"No," the redhead took a step further into the room, "I have to do this now … I want to see her, I need to."
"Willow, she's not-"
"I know." The hacker supplied quickly. "I know, but I still need to."
"Okay, "nodded Buffy and she moved forward, Willow moving with her.
The two friends slowly made their way across the room and stopped mere feet away. The slayer looked down at her friend, who had stopped their forward procession, "Willow?"
The redhead stared at the now very close, very real coffin. It was deep, so the only way to see the occupant was to step up next to it and look down. "Can you stay here?" the hacker asked quietly without moving her eyes from the casket.
Buffy looked at her friend, her eyes searching Willow's face, looking for any sign that the redhead was about to loose control and break down. But she couldn't see it, she couldn't see anything. The slayer had absolutely no idea what was running through Willow's mind, so she dipped her head and took a step back.
"I'll be right here."
If Willow heard her she didn't give any outward indication, other then removing her hand from the slayers arm.
Buffy stepped back and Willow stepped forward.
TBC…
I know this was a rotten place to stop, but I wanted all of the Willow grieving over Tara stuff in the same part. Forgive me?
DMW – I'll get to 'Warrior Wiccan' soon. I can't wait to read it.
More soon, I promise.
PEACE … Dix