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I Knew

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Dear Angel

Does this surprise you? You must have known that I thought about this on a regular basis – even more so since you left. Sorry, that sounds a bit ‘school yard’ and that isn’t why I am writing. It isn’t my intention to cause you pain.

Who’d of thought that I would ever be this organised? I had help; but I guess you worked that much out for yourself – especially when Whistler turned up, handed you a carved wooden box and told you that you needed to come to Sunnydale.

I hope that the others are being kind to you. I imagine that Riley is glaring at you from across the room. Xander is being caustic and Spike; well Spike is just being Spike. I know that Willow and Tara will accept you. I hope that Mom, Dad, and Giles do too. Now isn’t the time for accusation or recrimination. I need you to work together.

When you received this you will have found other letters in the box with it. If you haven’t already done so then please give them out. You may be wondering why I have entrusted these tasks to you. The answer? Because it was always you. I can imagine your lips twisting into that familiar half smile of yours as you read that. Good. There have been too many times when I have caused you pain and what I request of you is going to cause you more. You deserve every drop of happiness that you can get Beloved. The other reason is because I know that you are strong enough to see that everything I ask is carried out exactly. Strength of heart and strength of love. I know you never stopped loving me just as I never stopped loving you.

Right. I suppose that I should get down to business before my crying renders writing an impossible task.

The Service:

I want it to be as close to sunset as is safe for you and Spike. And I want to be cremated. Does that shock you? I want there to be no way that I can ever rise or have my remains defiled by something, demonic or otherwise.

I don’t care about the coffin, what’s the point if it is only going to go up in smoke? I do care about what I wear though. Black leather pants, a white spaghetti strapped top and your jacket. Do you know that even now your scent still lingers on it. Riley could never understand why I was so protective of it and I could never bring myself to explain it to him. Do you seriously think he would understand?

Back to the matter in hand. I want to be wearing my silver cross and my wedding ring: the Claddagh – which is to be placed where it belongs, on the ring finger of my left hand. I am proud to be your wife – even if it is unofficial. You didn’t know that I knew of the Claddagh’s significance did you? What? Did you seriously think that you could keep something that important a secret from me? The Slayer? Research is my middle name!

I don’t want any hymns or prayers or stuff like that. I want the service to be a celebration of my life not some maudlin memorial of all the bad that has gone on. I want the atmosphere to be upbeat. Ask Cordy to organise the wake – if there’s one thing Queen C excels at it’s partying. Just make sure she knows that it has to be HAPPY!

I do want you all to say something. Make it fun. Find a memory that makes you smile and tell everyone about that. My funeral is no place for some long rambling eulogy. And will you read one of those poems – you know, like the ones that were in the book you gave me for my eighteenth birthday – one full of cool words like thee and thou and art?

As to the music, I want you all to go through my CDs and find some suitable tracks. If there’s one ‘The Lord is My Shepherd’ or similar I will be back to haunt you guys...that’s a promise!

I only have two specific requests as far as my belongings are concerned. Giles is to have my Slayer diaries and you are to have my personal ones...oh, and I want you to have Mr. Gordo too. You two got on so well together! Other than that you can all select items that you want and the rest can be disposed of in whatever manner you all agree on.

The Interment

Ok, now we get to the yucky bit. NO ONE is going to do the freaky bit and keep my ashes in a vase on their mantle. I want my ashes to be interred and I want a nice little stone tablet to mark the spot. No long mention of being a heroine or a protector or even dates, just my name. Which reminds me, I guess I’m not Buffy Summers anymore – I’m Mrs. Buffy Summers~? What is your surname? I’d like to be hyphenated! Seriously, I want to use my married name, it’s really important to me.

Angel, I am so sorry that we never got the chance to be together again. I am sorry for all the hurtful things that I said to you that time I came to LA and found you with Faith (there is also a letter for her which I know you will be able to pass on). I lied. Riley was rebound guy. I do care for him and I do love him, I’m just not in love with him. I am in love with you. Never has there been a time when I haven’t been. It was just that fate wasn’t kind to us. The demon brought us together and the demon kept us apart. I wanted nothing more than to be with you 24/7 but it just wasn’t to be.

You told me everything you wanted for me – I want that for you too. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your time on this planet alone and mourning for me. Don’t go back to being ‘brood-boy’. When I last visited you in LA I could see how much you have progressed and Cordy tells me that you have come on leaps and bounds since then. Keep it up. Keep living in the real world. Have fun, interact with people, get out and have a good time. Promise me that you will keep on ‘living’.

Fuck it! I never wanted to die. I wanted to settle down with you and do what normal people do, in-between the staking, decapitating, and eviscerating. I know that things would have been difficult for us but I honestly believe we would have worked it out. Instead of which I am dead and you are undertaking the task of arranging my funeral. Whichever demon took me down should be very afraid right about now. By my reckoning there are twelve extremely angry people in this room just dying to kick some demon butt.

I miss you so much. I wish that I could hold you one more time and tell you just how much I love you. Instead I am asking you to do probably the hardest thing you’ll ever have to. Forgive me.

I have to stop now as I can hardly see. This is the hardest letter I have ever had to write...

Until we meet again Beloved

Forever With Me