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It wasn’t like Veronica never wore black. In fact, she wore a lot more black than she used to. But right now she couldn’t find a single appropriate black thing to wear and it was driving her crazy.
With a huff she threw an offending garment aside and sank onto the side of her bed, trying to hold back her tears.
She hated funerals.
“Veronica,” her dad called from the other room, “they’re here. You ready to go, sweetie?”
“Give me a few minutes,” she yelled back and stood up straight, wiping at her eyes. “You’re a strong, capable private investigator,” she told herself. “You can find a stupid outfit to wear.”
The problem was she wanted to look her best and honor the person she was going to pay her respects to. Someone she’d only met a handful of times, but who had changed her life forever. Someone she could understand in a way that no one else could, despite their brief friendship.
Hastily she tucked her black jacket over her slacks and a blouse and did a quick check in the mirror. Would the four people who knew her best in the entire world be able to see that she had been crying? Most likely.
She grabbed her bag and headed out into the living room to meet them, all wearing similarly appropriate funeral attire.
“Hey, guys,” she said, “are we ready to roll?”
“Yeah,” said her dad, grabbing her bag, “let’s get going so we aren’t late.”
Logan slipped his arm around her shoulders and Veronica tried a weak smile for him.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.
“I’ll make it. What about you? You probably knew her better than I did.”
“She’s my second favorite small and feisty blonde,” he said and she noticed that she wasn’t the only one with red eyes.
Mac and Wallace had already followed her father out to the car and she took the moment to hug Logan tightly.
“We better go,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he said, leading her to the car.
They mostly rode in silence. Veronica idly wondered if that was what happened to everybody on their way to funerals. Was it some sort of unspoken agreement that it wasn’t allowed or was it just natural for people to not want to talk on such occasions?
“Remind me what exit to take,” Logan said, steering onto the on ramp, his yellow beast of a car roaring.
Veronica caught sight of her dad’s face in the backseat and smiled slightly. It was a little bit funny that they had to drive Logan’s car since no one else had one that was big enough for all of them. Her dad didn’t like letting Logan ‘take control’ any more than he had to.
The two of them had gotten along a lot better since the incident that caused them to be taking this trip in the first place. Logan had grown up a lot, mostly stopped acting out when faced with a crisis, and was a lot more polite. At least to her dad. In turn, Keith had acknowledged Logan’s growth by treating him with a cordial leniency and hadn’t threatened him with death by shotgun and burial in the backyard. It was an improvement and Veronica was grateful for it.
She and Logan got along much better as well. Once she’d stopped judging him so harshly and he’d stopped deliberately doing things to make her mad when he felt judged, they were able to communicate a lot more clearly when they had issues. It was an uphill battle, but she knew it was worth it.
It had helped that Logan had been absolved of all the crimes he’d been charged with that fateful summer. The town of Neptune had calmed down when she’d proved that it was actually one of the PCHers who had done the things Logan had been accused of. Weevil had apologized to her, though not to Logan, and she was on good terms with him again. Dick and the rest of the 09ers weren’t pulling pranks anymore, at least, no more than usual. Logan was trying to do good things with the fortune he had been left from his mother’s death and father’s imprisonment and that had reconciled him to the poorer denizens of the town. All in all, Veronica would have said that this was the happiest part of her life she’d encountered since Lilly’s death if it weren’t for the events of the day.
“Sunnydale this way,” she told Logan, pointing to the right exit.
He swerved toward it and Keith winced in the backseat. Veronica smiled encouragingly at him and he gave her his patented ‘I’m-your-father-and-I-love-you-and-you-love-him-so-I-won’t-kill-the-maniac-driving-us smile.’ She gave him the ‘you-are-the-best-dad-in-the-world-and-I-will-never-stop-loving-you’ smile in return.
Wallace and Mac were arguing in the backseat, their official funeral conversational hush apparently broken by Mac’s new hobby.
“You sure it’s wise to be asking for help on this?” Wallace was saying.
“Why not?” Mac asked. “They’re experts. I’m a noob.”
“But just the thought of it is so weird. I mean, it’s…magic. I still don’t like thinking about it.”
“I know when Veronica did her little body-switching thing it was a huge wake-up call for all of us,” Mac said, “but I’ve chosen to look at it as a new opportunity. It’s the perfect way to combine that and my talents that I already possess.”
“Technology and magic mixed?”
“I think it’s perfect,” Veronica said, breaking into their argument. “Look, Wallace, I had to do the ‘facing magic was real’ thing too. I was a vampire Slayer for goodness sake. Mac is already a whiz with computers and if she wants to add magic to that, she’ll be the best technopage there is. Did I say that right?” she asked Mac. “I wasn’t being magically rude or anything?”
“I’m offended beyond belief,” Mac said, deadpan.
“Get over it,” Veronica told her.
“I think we’re back to not speaking,” Mac said, shooting her a grin. “Though I might need you to defend my pagan honor sometime.”
“Anytime,” Veronica said.
Wallace rolled his eyes.
“Like I wouldn’t support any one of you apart from Rich-Boy up there if you wanted to convert to voodooism or anything like that.”
“You’re so open-minded,” Mac told him in a falsetto voice and fluttered her eyes.
“Shut up,” he said and grinned.
Veronica smiled and turned her attention back to the open window while Logan jumped into the conversation, obviously resenting his exclusion from Wallace’s support.
Her mind drifted back to the night she’d gotten the phone call. She was simply working in her dad’s office, filing the cases. She had been expecting a phone call because she’d known there was a huge battle going on. Buffy and Spike had promised to let her know what had happened.
“Hello,” she’d answered.
“V-veronica?” questioned the soft voice on the other end.
“Tara?” Veronica questioned herself, not sure if she’d gotten it right.
“Y-yes. Um, I wanted to call and tell you- we’re done. It’s over now. B-but…we didn’t all make it.”
“Tell me,” Veronica had said, sitting up straight.
“I-it was…Buffy. She-she jumped to save Dawn. Spike said to call you.”
“Is he okay? Is Dawn okay? Of course they’re not.”
“I- it’s bad. The funeral’s on Thursday at the Restfield Cemetary at six once it’s dark. W-will you come?”
“We’ll be there. Can I do anything?”
“Just come. I-I have to make some more calls. The others are-are not doing so good.”
“If you think of anything, let me know. We’ll be there and we can stay and help if need be. I will. And I’m so, so sorry, Tara.”
“Thank you. I-I’ll be in touch.”
They had hung up and Veronica had sat in stunned silence for about ten minutes. Buffy was dead. It was devastating news. She’d never gotten to spend much time with her, but Veronica had once lived the other girl’s life for awhile and had grown to appreciate her more than she could say. And the others. Spike, Dawn, Tara, Xander, Willow, Anya, Giles. They would be so heartbroken.
Buffy had been protecting her sister. Dawn had been hunted by a hellgod named Glory who wanted to use her dimensionally potent blood to open a door to her own dimension. It had been a tough battle and Veronica had gotten a brief call letting her know that it was about to go down and now…now Buffy was dead.
Veronica blinked rapidly at the cars they whizzed past, remembering. That had been a bad night. She’d called her dad, who was out catching a bail jumper and he’d promised to come home as soon as he could. She’d called Mac and Wallace and then Logan. He’d come straight to her as soon as he’d heard and they’d both sat on the floor in the office, and he held her while she cried and she’d held him right back.
Now they were on their way to the funeral.
“It’s just there,” she said quietly, pointing toward the street leading to the cemetery where she’d killed many a vampire, Spike at her side.
They walked silently through the graves to the group of people huddled near the corner. Tara had explained to her in a later phone call that they were keeping it quiet and private because they didn’t want to alert the demon population at large that the Slayer was gone just yet and that there were issues with Dawn’s custody.
Veronica thought it was tragic that the death of the most important woman in the world would go so unmourned by the vast majority of it.
When they reached the site the sun, which had been cloudy all day, finally dipped behind the trees and Veronica saw Spike step out from the behind the shadows of a mausoleum. She spotted Dawn at the same time as the younger girl saw her and Dawn sprinted toward her, flinging her arms around Veronica.
“You came,” she said.
“Of course I came,” Veronica told her, hugging her tightly. “There’s nowhere else I’d be.”
“She-she would be glad,” Dawn said, cutting off Veronica’s circulation.
“Are you okay, hanging in there?” Logan asked her, putting a friendly arm around her shoulder.
“It’s so hard,” Dawn said, and then turned around suddenly and ran back to the others.
They exchanged glances before Veronica took Logan’s offered hand and they walked with the rest of their group to what was left of the Scoobies.
They exchanged hugs with everyone. Spike hung at the back not looking at her right away.
“Don’t I get a hug?” Veronica asked him quietly.
When he looked her in the face she had to hide a gasp at how awful he looked. His eyes were hollow and red-rimmed and looked like death. Normally she'd find it funny and ironic, but there was absolutely nothing amusing about how horrible he looked.
“There’s an opening in the slaying business, luv,” he said, his tone deceptively light, and then abruptly turned away.
She hugged his back and he put his hands up to grasp hers around his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
They didn’t say anything for a minute or two and then Spike stiffened and moved back into the shadows. Veronica looked to see what had bothered him and saw three people walking toward them.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with too much gel in his hair and a long, dark coat led the way in front of a woman who was tall and tanned and gorgeous and suspiciously exactly like Dick and Beaver’s step-mom, and a man with glasses, wavy brown hair in desperate need of a cut, and stubble on his face.
They all three were embraced by the Scoobies, some more than others.
“Who’s that?” Logan asked her.
“No idea,” she whispered back.
Dawn overheard them and moved back to where they stood with Keith, Wallace, and Mac.
“That’s Angel, Buffy’s other ex, and Cordelia and Wesley. She used to do the demon killing thing here with us and Wesley was Buffy’s Watcher at one point. Long story.”
“The things you pick up,” Logan said, raising his eyebrows.
There were brief introductions all around and Veronica felt uncomfortable. She and her family were largely strangers to this world and sometimes it felt like the brief intimacy they’d all shared with each other wasn’t enough to grant her access to this most private of moments.
She did notice that Dawn did not greet Angel and company with any sense of fondness and stuck close to Spike, holding his hand even when it looked like he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was.
Veronica knew the feeling. She was grateful for her father who stuck close to her and Logan, who held her hand tightly.
The service was simple and quick. Lingering in a cemetery for so long after dark, even with so many people, was not wise in Sunnydale. But Veronica appreciated the quiet words said on behalf of the Slayer and she smiled at the inscription on the tombstone.
She saved the world. A lot.
Dawn rode with them back to the house and caught them up on everything that had been happening. She wasn’t as verbose and Dawn-like as Veronica remembered. She spoke quietly and whenever she said anything about the battle with Glory as it pertained to herself she spoke in a short, clipped tone tinged with bitterness. Veronica exchanged worried glances with her father over Dawn’s head.
She was worried about Dawn, worried about the town of Sunnydale, and worried about Spike. She wanted to talk to him but after that initial contact at the gravesite he hadn’t looked at her or spoken to anyone. He’d disappeared onto the back porch with his cigarettes as soon as they’d reached the house.
After speaking briefly with everyone, Veronica went in search of him.
Tara had brought him out a plate of food and some blood but he hadn’t touched it as far as Veronica could see.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were avoiding me,” she said, sitting down next to him.
“You don’t know better,” he said and chuckled bitterly.
“The Spike I know would never back away from anyone he loved no matter what the circumstances.”
“Think highly of yourself, don’t you, pet?”
“I’m an investigator,” she said, speaking carefully. “I hunt for facts and all the evidence is pointing towards you and me and a heaping pile of friendship bracelets.”
“Don’t think that’s wise,” he said. “People tend to get hurt around me or by me.”
“The same could be said for me, you know,” she said.
He growled under his breath.
“Bloody hell, Private Eye, can’t a bloke smoke in peace and enjoy being the miserable ponce that he is?”
“Nope,” she said. “Someone I once knew helped me realize that you don’t give up on people even when they treat ya mean.”
“He was an idiot then.”
“Sometimes. Now, other than the obvious, do you want to tell me why you won’t go inside and what’s really going on?”
“I’m not giving Angel any excuse to get a dig at me,” he said, taking a deep drag. “It’s not like anybody thinks I need to be in there. And they’re right,” he ended softly.
“Uh, you were Buffy’s boyfriend, her significant other, her lover, her partner etc, I’m thinking that gives you first rights of practically anybody other than Dawn.”
“Scoobies settled down a bit after that happened,” he agreed, “but I never quite achieved full status. Sides, with the Great Brooding Angel here, anything I felt gets chucked aside to the love that never died.”
“What are you driveling about?” Veronica asked, confused. “Her ex is here, ex. I saw the two of you together. She loved you.”
“She never said so,” he said, voice trembling. “Not even right at the end. And why would she say it after I let her down?”
“You couldn’t have saved her, Dawn told me.”
“I could’ve saved Dawn and then the Slayer wouldn’t have had to jump.”
She almost didn’t hear him.
“Spike…” she said and trailed off, instead putting her arm around him. He stiffened a bit but then relaxed and let out a sob. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all my fault,” he said. “I couldn’t do it right. And I think about how I would do it. All the different ways I could have saved her.”
“Battle doesn’t always lend itself to a strategy meeting,” she said, still holding him. “You can’t know in advance what’s going to happen and you can’t plan for everything. Buffy trusted you at her side and in the end the world, the town, and her sister were saved and that’s what she would have wanted.”
“I just wanted to let her know…I bollocksed it all up.”
“I think what she would want you to let her know is that you’re not going to give up, that you’re going to keep this town safe, that you’ll protect Dawn and help her friends.”
“Course I will,” he said and snorted, all tears gone. “I promised her till the end of the world, not the end of her. The Bit’s all I got left.”
“You have a few friends,” she said wryly. “Now…do you think you can do it or do I have to get tough?”
“Shivering in my boots,” he told her, rolling his eyes.
“Spike?” came Dawn’s voice from behind them.
“What’s the matter?” he asked and Veronica smiled to see all traces of self-pity and berating gone.
“Angel’s gone,” she informed them, coming to sit next to them. “They wanted to leave so they could get back before the sun.”
“Sun?” Veronica asked, raising her eyebrow.
“Vampire,” Dawn and Spike said.
“Buffy sure knew how to make relationships complicated,” Veronica said. “I thought I had it bad.”
“Slayer’s par to none,” Spike said, pride in his voice.
“So will you come in and stop acting like you’re going to leave and never come back?” Dawn asked and Veronica heard real fear in her voice.
“I’m never leaving, Nibblet,” Spike told her, giving her a brief hug before standing up. “Gotta keep you safe from the nasties and the nasties away from the Hellmouth.”
Dawn’s face lit up before she hid it behind her long hair and Veronica smiled, feeling a bit better.
Veronica ate once they were inside and she noticed a slight coolness toward Spike on the part of Xander, but all the others appeared to accept him if not welcome him into the group. Tara had appeared particularly worried.
“You straighten him out?” Logan whispered in her ear.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, teasing.
“You know exactly, my sweet,” he told her before extending his hand to Spike.
“Scottie, you treating my second favorite blonde right?”
“You’re fortunate I’m not blonde at the moment, Spike,” Anya informed him and everyone laughed.
The tension seemed to be broken after that with Angel gone and Spike no longer brooding.
Veronica helped Tara in the kitchen while Logan and Wallace chatted with Xander and Anya kept Dawn busy in the living room. Mac was in deep conversation with Willow in the corner over a laptop and Giles and her father were speaking. Spike bothered them in the kitchen before helping with a good earnest.
“What’s going to happen to Dawn?” Veronica asked in a low voice.
“Watcher got custody,” Spike said.
“But W-willow and I are going to move in and take care of her,” Tara said. “Giles might be moving back to England.”
“What?”
“My reaction exactly,” Spike said. “He should stay here.”
“I think he’s grieving in his-his own way,” Tara said. “B-buffy was like his daughter.”
“She was more than that to some of us,” Spike said. “Just saying it’s bloody stupid to make big changes when you’re dealing with grief.”
“Is he wise or what?” Veronica asked Tara, but she eyed Dawn worriedly.
After awhile they got ready to figure out sleeping arrangements. Keith had wanted to get a hotel, but the others had insisted they stay there. In the end Veronica and Mac took Buffy’s old room while Keith stayed on the couch. Logan and Wallace were relegated to the cots in the basement.
Veronica was awake far sooner than she would have liked to have been considering how late they’d stayed up the night before but she wasn’t surprised considering everything. She opened her eyes to the familiar room she’d slept in many times. It felt like forever ago.
She got up slowly and the rest of the house did eventually as well. They were a late-rising household in general with the nocturnal hours kept almost by necessity. Willow and Tara had decided not to take any classes for that quarter to help out so only the automatic coffeemaker was on when Veronica entered the kitchen.
She poured herself a cup and reflected on all of the changes. Two deaths in so short a time. Veronica had never really gotten to know Joyce before she’d died, but she could tell what must have been Joyce’s touches in all the changes around the house. Veronica knew how Dawn must be feeling and she wished she could do something more.
She didn’t have long for reflection as an entire house full of people all came together. The visitors from Neptune helped out all that day, making phone calls, sorting through possessions, and doing yard work and anything that they could think of to help. But they had to leave sooner rather than later as Keith had an urgent case and both Veronica and Mac had work the next day.
Spike came over when it was dark to say goodbye. Veronica hugged everyone in the growing shadows on the lawn and was grateful to hear her dad offer to have Dawn come and stay with them any time she wanted.
“Don’t forget your promise, but don’t dwell too much on it,” she told Spike as she hugged him.
“Can always count on you for good advice, Private Eye,” he said.
“And you can visit too,” she said.
“We’ll see. Hellmouth won’t watch itself.”
“You’ll be amazing.”
The ride back wasn’t quite as quiet as the one over, but it was still touched with a somber mood.
Mac was excited at everything she’d been talking about with Willow.
“She put me in touch with her online groups and is going to sponsor me in some of the hard to get into ones.”
“That’s great, Mac,” Veronica told her.
“She really has an amazing power,” Mac said. “She started out just like me, a computer whiz and then got into the magic later. She’s doing more magic now than I want to, but I think she can really help. Tara and Giles too. They’ve got so much knowledge.”
“Slow down, be careful, girl,” Wallace told her.
“I definitely want to go slower than Willow did,” Mac said slowly. “I could be wrong but I got the sense from her that she thinks magic can fix anything. I could tell she was grieving but some of the things she said about dealing with Buffy’s death…well, it was kind of scary.”
Veronica listened with a bit of concern. Willow had seemed that way to her as well. Almost too cheerful even though Buffy was gone. And she hadn’t helped Tara with anything, hadn’t talked with almost anyone after the funeral except for Mac and Mac had cornered her.
“Let me know what else you find out,” she told Mac, frowning.
“I’ve got my ears and eyes open,” Mac assured her.
When they reached Neptune Wallace and Mac left for home and her dad went back to the office. Logan and Veronica sat in his car for a long time.
“You remember when we couldn’t do this safely?” she asked, threading her fingers through his.
“Vaguely,” he said.
“I was worried I’d lose you.”
“I was worried you’d leave me.”
“Great minds-“
“Fear alike,” he said, grinning.
“Just what I needed,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Veronica feeling a bit snarky this evening?”
“Veronica would like to feel anything but sadness and not to be talked about in the third person.”
“Logan is sorry.”
She hit him on the arm and then kissed him deeply.
“What was that for?” he asked after a few minutes when she finally pulled away.
“Does it have to be for anything?”
“With you? Yes.”
“It’s for being here and not six feet under,” she finally said.
His face softened and he reached over to cup her face.
“Hey, got no plans that direction. I don’t really fight hellgods on a regular basis.”
“And that’s why I love you,” she said.
“Not for my immense fortune and charm?”
“Charm?”
“Charm-like qualities can be found when you dig deep into the Echolls interior.”
“Oh, I see. Well, is it worth it, all the digging?”
“You tell me,” he said.
“I guess so,” she said. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Now come along with me and we’ll work on college stuff.”
“Do we hafta?” he asked, groaning as he got out of the car. “Couldn’t I just hire someone to go to college for me?”
“I suppose you could hire someone to date me in your stead as well,” she said, unlocking her door.
“Now that I don’t let anyone else do,” he said, pulling her close to him, kissing her again.
“I suppose college can wait a bit,” she said, pulling him towards her room.
“And that’s why I love you,” he said.
“You know I love you too, right?” she asked, as he tugged her down onto the bed. “Life’s kinda short and all.”
“Buffy may not have had time to tell Spike,” he told her, looking directly into her eyes, “but I’m glad you took the time. I don’t doubt that anymore. And I don’t want you to doubt my love for you.”
“You have your annoying moments,” she said, capturing his lips again, “but on the whole I feel pretty loved.”
“Then I’m doing my job right,” he said, before kissing her so that she couldn’t think let alone talk.
And, somehow, she felt better. She still felt Buffy’s loss, in the world and in her life, but she had reason to rejoice in this life and she would do it. For herself, her family, for Logan, and for the woman who’d given her life for just such things.