Moments
 by DarlaDru

Day turned into night, as the sun sank slowly under the distant horizon. An inky black sky took the last remains of light and left behind it a void. The crescent moon above hid behind wisps of blackened clouds, the stars dimly shone a glimmer of light onto the earth below.

A sliver mist crept in along the shadowed grass, curling and twisting around the many chipped headstones in one of Sunnydale’s many graveyards. The mist finally came to the last headstone, and touched the clouded figure standing over it. As it touched his bare skin, it sent chills along his slim body, and finally made him aware of the world again.

Giles stood stiffly above the grave of Buffy Summers, the slayer. He tightly held within his frozen grasp an open book. The pages within were blank. Giles stared at them with vacant eyes, a pen in one hand. In his mind he read the grave a thousand times over, ‘Buffy Anne Summers, Beloved sister, devoted friend.’ The words expressed a fraction of Buffy’s story; they couldn’t express her sacrifice to the world.

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. “I see Willow told you.” He whispered into the darkness behind him. As he said the words, a shadow moved wordlessly closer to the grave. The stars cast a dim light on Angel, but their light caressed the white rose he was holding and made it glow into the night.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be here.”

Angel stopped behind Giles, and peered at the blank book. Giles smiled with sad eyes towards Angel, and nodded towards the book. “It’s, ah, my Watchers Journal. I-I remember, once, not long ago actually, Buffy wanted guidance from other Slayers, other Watchers journals. But, she couldn’t find anything helpful to her, because the journals, they just, stopped. Rather like the Slayers. One day, they just, stop being.

“ I thought, maybe my journal should be different. That, no matter how hard it is, something should be written about her, that another Watcher or Slayer might find of use…” Giles trailed off, anger suddenly overwhelming him, building up inside. With all his anger and strength Giles flung the book. It hit the headstone hard, and landed on the grass, open at the first page.
Angel lowered his eyes, giving the watcher some time to think. Giles let his eyes wonder to the first entry of the book. His first entry as Buffy’s Watcher:

“Slayer is wilful and insolent.” Well, she was. He remembered her, how they first met in the library. How Buffy had wanted to give up being the Slayer. But as they had slayed together, faced demons together, suffered loss and Xander’s jokes, he had found her wilfulness to be an asset. After all, who wanted a slayer who just followed Council orders?

Giles took a deep breath as he tried to calm the storm he felt inside him.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t be at the funeral,” he said at last to the waiting figure behind him. “Dawn wanted it to be in the day, like their mother’s.”

Angel shifted uncomfortably, twirling the delicate flower around in his palm. “That’s- I don’t mind. I have a thing about funerals anyway. I didn’t even want to go to my own.” He offered a false laugh, but he stopped when he caught sight of Giles. The Watcher was deep in thought, staring back at the grave.

“I thought it should have been raining. But then a part of me knew it was selfish. Buffy deserved a good send off, after all she suffered. Even before she was born, her destiny was laid neatly out before her. No, not even neatly. But she took it all with a strength that was beyond me. Beyond many of us. I can’t help but think I managed to make it worse.”

“Giles, you were there for her. I know she thought of you as a fath…”

“No.” Giles cut off Angel, he knew what Angel was about to say, but the pain from those words stabbed at his heart even without them being said.

“ I know she may have thought that, but I know I hurt her. After… when Jenny died, I felt pain. I thought nothing in the world could be worse than what I felt then. But then I remember Buffy, she looked into my eyes and she held me after I came for you. She cried, and, although it was comforting to know how much she cared, I knew that if I outlived Buffy, nothing in the world would let me recover from it.” A cold tear rolled down Giles’s cheek, and Giles wiped it away before others followed.

“ I remember Dawn, telling me about her mother’s death. Buffy told her, that, her mother was gone. Dawn asked me if Buffy had gone somewhere else too. I suppose it could be true. With all the evil we see every day, there must be something good for her.”

Angel stepped closer to Giles, and lowered his voice to a low, private whisper. “But that doesn’t help does it? It still hurts. Giles, you weren’t the only one who hurt her. You know what I put her through, because of the curse. I loved her more than anything, in a way I still do, but then it was taken away from me and I did some terrible things. To her, and you as well.”

“At least you had some kind of an excuse. You lost your soul, you weren't responsible for the actions you did. What was my excuse? Duty, emotions. Maybe I some ways I hurt her more, I had a choice.

"But, Angel, she loved you. No matter what else happened, I believe she still loved you very much. I just wish her life could have been happier towards the end. She was so upset, about her mother, about Dawn.”

For endless moments, the two men stood in silence. In seconds, Buffy’s lifetime echoed in their minds, the times they shared, and times they regretted. Then Angel moved purposely towards the tattered journal.

“If you want, I could finish this,” he offered as he stooped to pick up the book. “Although, I wasn’t there, I think I could.”

Giles stared at Angel with hollow eyes full of glassy tears. “No, that’s alright.” Giles gently took the book from Angel, and closed it. “I’ll finish it later.”

Giles took one last look at the grave where his slayer, where Buffy, lay. Slowly, Giles walked away to be enveloped in shadows, leaving Angel alone.

Angel crouched down again, and lovingly placed the flower at the headstone. “I wish I could have been there for you Buffy. But I was stuck in this, unbelievable place.” He ran a hand over the cold stone, tracing the words with his finger. ‘Buffy Anne Summers, beloved sister, devoted friend.’

“Now I’ll be a devoted friend,” he whispered to it, “I’ll take care of your friends, and Dawn.”

Hidden behind a nearby tree, Spike watched, and listened. As he did, a cloud formed inside him, in his head, and he waited for Angel.