I have to make the calls. What can I say to people I haven't seen in ten years? Will they even care that Giles is dead? It seems so strange. Spike's everlasting revenge. Be strong Buffy. Call them and tell them. I pick up the phone, it's black plastic icy in my hands and dial Willow.
* * *
"Charles! THe phone is ringing!"
"I am in the kitchen, Will, you get it.
Willow Rosenberg sighed. She was late again for the lab, but her job as a bio-chemist would have to wait. Willow searched for the phone through the mess of clothes, plates, and papers covering the floor. She had never thought she would be happy with a man who lived in squalor like this, but for Charles she would do anything. Charles, who was cute and funny and a computer nerd just like her. Charles who made her feel beautiful. Of course her parents had taken some time to get used to the fact that their daughter was dating a Christian, but that was all in the past. She grabbed the phone.
"Hello?"
"Willow? It's Buffy Summers, from high-school."
"Buffy?!? How are you? It's been so long."
"I'm fine. Well, not really. It's Giles. He's, well, he died. Spike killed him," the voice on the other line sounded like a child's, little and lost.
Tears filled Willow's eyes, cascading down her cheeks. "Giles? And I always thought he was immortal. I can't believe he won't be there to consult his books or scold you."
"The funeral is on..."Buffy filled Willow in on the deatils.
"Of course. Well, Bye Buffy." Willow hung up the phone with a shudder.
"Will, you'll be late to work. What's wrong?" Charles asked plopping down on the couch next to her.
"A close family friend died," she said to him. Then more to herself, "I wasn't even there for Buffy."
* * *
I remember looking at Gile's books. I came across a picture of Drusilla. Poor Dru, for the first time I pity her. Another one of Angel's casultys, she must have been sweet and kind once. I remember the soft ashes of her falling on my fingers after I staked her. She and I have both wathced friends and family die. This next call to Xander and Cordelia is hard, I haven't spoken to them since after my mother's death.
* * *
"Xander!" Cordelia came out of the room putting in her diamond earring. "Come zip me up!"
Xander came down the hall in his tuxedo, carrying Jenny, his raven haired four year old, named in memory of Jenny Calender. "You go down and find your bear," he said as he gently place her on the floor, "I have to help mommy."
"Okay," said Jenny as she teetered off.
"There." Xander zipped Cordelia's dress and kissed her throat. "i love to show up at these premires with my beautiful wife. I know everyone looks at me and says, 'How the hell did he get her?'"
"Well, then, I'll just tell them what an amazing kisser you are and then they'll envy me, " Cordelia said with a laugh. "Phone! I hope it isn't that damn babysitter calling to cancel again."
"I'll go answer and you go kiss Jenny goodbye. "Xander wandered off to get the phone, while Cordelia walked into Jenny's rppm.
"Night, sweetheart. I love you and I'll see you in the morning."
"Cordelia!" Xander called.
"Coming!" she said as she bent over and kissed her daughter. "What is it?" she stared at Xander's pale face.
"That was Buffy. Giles is dead."
"Oh my god!" Xander wrapped his arms around his wife as she cried.
* * *
I remember Spike's face when I killed Drusilla. Giles had always told me that vampires didn't love, but when I saw Spike's face, I knew he was wrong. That pain, that exquisite agony written on his face only comes from having loved and lost. He cried, this vampire who I had been told felt nothing. Cried for his dark-haired love. And so everything I had been told was a lie, and these monsters felt love and remorse. I picked up the phone to call Oz, who himself was a monster that loved.
* * *
"Oui, Madam. Tu es tres belle!" Oz said as he flirted with his waitress at the coffe shop in french hotel he was staying in. He then turned his attentions to his pad of paper, yellow, with blue lines, and his current story. Scrawling a philosophic story about a world traveler like himself, he was immeresed in his writing and didn't realize until the fifth time the waitress said his name that his attentions were needed.
"La telephone est pour toi! C'est "Buffy"!" she said.
"Buffy? I better go get it."
* * *
I walked to the cemetary. I could have driven, but I wanted to think. About Giles, who did so much for me. About Angel, who loved me so completly, after his soul was returned. About Spike, who loved Drusilla so much. About all my friends, united in our young lives and now in our greif.
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