A\N: *Huggles* to Dusty for betaing it for me.
Heaven
It's soft. Softer than she could have ever imagined. Blurred and warm, with a drowsy sense of contentment that wraps around her like a quilt. There is the barest hint of Chanel hanging in the stillness. Her mother always wore Chanel. After a party or a banquet, long after her nanny had tucked her in bed, her mother would tiptoe in and kiss her goodnight. She would smell the perfume and know she was safe and loved. The air here smells of Chanel, of warmth and love.
She looks at nothing and can see the world; she closes her eyes and can see her past. Friends, foes, they blur together. She can see Xander in Africa. She can't remember one thing bad about him when she used to have lists at the tip of her tongue. She can't tell if he changed or she did. Maybe a little of both. She smiles for the moments they shared and looks elsewhere.
Angel, Fred, Wesley, Charles. She doesn't want to watch this. To watch them mourn. She wants them to live. To fight the good fight. So she doesn't watch, she knows they will be okay. That eventually they will find their way. She trusts them and turns away.
She sees Buffy in Rome making breakfast for Dawn, and she wonders if they appreciate it, that moment, simple and ordinary. In a second it will be gone. They never will get it back, she hopes they enjoy it. She hopes they savor the taste of fruit, the warmth of the sun, the hope of a new day. They laugh and she is happy.
She closes her eyes and tries to think back on that girl that first met Buffy and her bratty kid sister. She can see her, all fashion and gloss, and she knows that girl is gone. She lets her pass. She lets it all just be, no time for regrets, no time for wishes. She lets it fall away. She simply is.
The End
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