Title: The Calming Effect (1/1)
Author: Queena
E-mail: thessulah@aol.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Oz goes back to Sunnydale for Giles funeral and comes face to face with the object of his fear.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all of the characters. I don’t.
Author’s Notes: This is the last part of a trilogy, including the stories “Thirteen Passed Quiet” and “The Ringing in My Ears”, which can both be found at the UCSL archive.
Dedication: To Magpie, who helped to remind me that this story actually existed.
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I stood staring up at the plane I was about to board. Maybe if I was lucky, one of the engines would blow out and I’d go down in the crash. No, I don’t want to die, but I wanted all of this to end. My fear, my pain. But it all seemed so dismal then. Giles was gone, my one link to that long ago world. And I hadn’t even spoken to him in four years. Because of that, he died alone, with no one to hold his hand as he laid on his death bed. Just one more thing to add to my “guilt list”.

Devon reached down then, entwining his fingers with mine. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” he asked, brushing slow circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. He knows how that always seems to calm me a bit. And I wanted him to go with me. I wanted to take comfort in his arms, but I couldn’t. This didn’t involve him and there was no reason to drag him along with me to that dangerous place.

“No,” I said with a small shake of my head, unlocking my fingers from his and picking up my bag. “I have to do this by myself.” Devon nodded understandingly, but still looked unsure.

Turning away from my lover, I started towards the company’s jet, which was waiting to take me to Sunnydale and the burial of my long time friend. “Oz!” I heard Devon call and turned to see him jogging towards me. When he got to me, he swooped down and pressed his lips to mine. Though the kiss was rushed, it was sweet and soft. Pulling out of the kiss, Devon pressed his forehead to me. “I’m just scared you won’t come back. Please, promise me you won’t leave me,” he said, his voice choked.

I set my bag down once again to wrap my arms around his waist. “I promise, baby. I’ll never leave you,” I swore, though I wasn’t positive I was telling the truth. It was just what my heart was feeling. I knew I’d always be with him, somehow. Pressing my lips to his again, I let the promise linger in our kiss. Then, painfully, I disengaged myself from his arms and took up my bag again.

After climbing the stairs up and into the jet, I turned and offered Devon a small wave before the steward shut the door.

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As soon as the plane touched ground on the runway of the small Sunnydale airport, a heaviness set into my limbs. I had never wanted to come back to this place, but here I was.

There was no time to go to the hotel before the funeral, so I caught a taxi straight to Restfeild. There wasn’t going to be any memorial services held for Giles. There wasn’t going to be many people to remember him.

When the taxi pulled up to the gates of the cemetery, I didn’t want to get out. I could feel the expectant eyes of the cabby staring at me through the rearview, but I lingered in the backseat for a minute or two. Then, with a deep sigh, I reached into my pocket for the cab fair and paid the man. Stepping out of the cab, I took slow steps through the gates.

I could see from there, a small group of people assembled at the foot of a grave, but I made no further move. Instead, I decided to wait until the strangers left before I would go and pay my last respects to my old mentor. I would whisper all of the things I’d never told him in life. All of these things would be spoken to a slab of stone and I realized that I had already failed to respect his memory by not telling him to his face what I felt for him.

Moving away from the iron gateway, I leaned against a thick oak, watching silently, the mourners over Giles’ grave. I wasn’t surprised to see a tall, brunette there, unmistakably Cordy. Unlike the rest of the gang, I hadn’t lost all contact with her. Occasionally, I would see her at LA parties. She had become quite a successful agent to the stars, and there were quite a few famous faces under her belt. We’ve chatted over mochachinos once in a while, but other than that, I haven’t had much to do with her. And neither of us had had the nerve to bridge the subject that was really on our minds when we had these few encounters with each other. Most of the time, being spent in an uncomfortable silence.

Standing only a short distance away from Cordelia, was a tall, dark haired man. His shoulders were broad and his face ragged, a man that has seen many years of manual labor. He seemed utterly uncomfortable in the dark suit he had donned for the occasion. The profile that I caught glimpses of proved that my suspicions were correct. There was Xander. This was the first time I had seen him in thirteen years and it was almost like a blow to the stomach to see the hard edge in his eyes. The glimmer of hope had left him too.

Scanning the rest of the small group, I realized that Willow was not there, remembering that Giles told me he had lost all contact with her over ten years ago. It killed me that she wouldn’t know of the loss that we were all suffering, but I figured that’s what she wanted. After Buffy had disappeared, Willow had lost the thing that made her special. Her innocence. Her voice had taken on a hard edge to it, and the quirky smile had left her face. What was left was a shell of the former Willow, a woman with ice water running through her veins. I’m sad to say, that I wasn’t really upset when she decided it was over between the two of us.

It wasn’t long before the group disbanded, walking away from the open grave towards the gate that I stood only a few feet away from. Cordelia and Xander walked together, a comfortable distance between them. I realized at that moment that I had no urge to see them and began edging around the tree as they got closer to me. Hiding like a convicted felon on the run, I watched silently as they made their way out of the cemetery.

Once everyone was gone, I slowly made my way over to the grave. The groundskeeper was already beginning to fill the grave with dirt. I could hear the earth falling against the top of the polished coffin and choked back a sudden cry of pain at this. I stopped about a foot from the edge and waited the whole while it took for the grave to be filled. Nothing really passed through my head during this time, the only thing that felt real was the tight ball in my chest. The gravedigger kept throwing uneasy glances in my direction, but they were easy for me to ignore.

After he was done, the groundskeeper gathered up his tools quickly and left me to mourn by myself. Stepping onto the mound of raised dirt, I dropped to my knees before Giles headstone, covering the knees of my black jeans in fresh dirt. The engraved letters on the marble read: Rupert Giles, 1955-2012. A small inscription was written below this, something that most people won’t understand, “...and the fight will continue” The quote struck me as familiar, and though I couldn’t place where I’d heard it before, it seemed incredibly fitting.

I was suddenly aware of my own voice in my ears. I was speaking, apologizing to Giles, but I couldn’t register my own words even as they flowed from my mouth. I could feel my tears streaking my cheeks, continuing to flow and flow, seemingly without a halt. I lost all sense of time, as I began to drown in my emotions, leaning my head against the cool surface of the headstone.

Once I looked up again, I felt as though time had lapsed. The darkness had fallen and I was stuck in a memory. Almost as if it were real, I saw Buffy fighting a group of vampires, Xander and I struggling with foes of our own. I watched, remembered, as Buffy finished off the last of her opponents, turning to pry the vampire attacking me away from my neck and easily dusting him. I could feel the small smile touch my lips at the memory. Just one of the many times that Buffy had saved me from death.

Pressing my eyes shut for a long moment, I looked up again and the image was gone. Turning back to the headstone, I spoke in a low whisper. “I’m sorry, Giles, that you died still wondering.”

“He died with knowledge,” a soft voice answered my whisper. At first I thought I had imagined it, but the familiarity put a shock in my bones. Then it came again. “He wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t figured it out.”

This time I whipped around and my eyes automatically landed on the figure before me. Standing a few feet away was a teenage girl, her hair shining a bright yellow, her eyes twinkling a deep green, a small smile lighting her lips. Buffy. She seemed to examine me as closely as I was her, only with much more amusement and a lot less shock. My jaw hung open, slack, and I couldn’t move, though I tried. What finally got me moving was the realization that she hadn’t aged a day from the last time I saw her. It caused me to fall back from my crouch, onto my ass, my back pressed against the headstone.

I fumbled in my pockets for a moment, searching for the cross I usually carried with me and not finding it. At my obvious fear, she giggled, that warm bubbly laugh that I remember so well. “I’m not a vampire, Oz,” she said, with a smile. Still, even after she denied my thought, I jumped when she moved closer to me. I blinked continuously, thinking that this might help to rid me of the image before me, but it didn’t help.

She fell to her knees before me, the skirt of her long white dress not marking in the dirt. “W...what are you?” I asked, my voice sounding scared and not like my own. “What happened to you?”

“Ssssshhhh,” she quieted me, covering my lips with her finger. “It’s okay, Oz. You don’t have to be scared anymore.” I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what was happening, this loss of control scared me more than anything. “You don’t have to be in control, Oz. I’m here,” she spoke again, seeming to read my thoughts.

Though this ability of hers frightened me more than anything, it had a calming effect and when I was finally able to speak, my voice came out strong and without a tremor. “What are you?” I asked her clearly.

“I’m Buffy. Duh,” she said with a laugh. “But honestly, I’m a spirit.” She looked around then, nervously. “I’m not even supposed to be here and you can bet that I’m gonna get chewed out for this.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked, my voice wavered again, but I was put much at ease by the Buffiness of the way she was acting.

“I came for Giles, but when I realized that you were coming, I stayed for you. I’ve watched you, Oz. I know what my leaving did to you and I have to say, I’m a bit disappointed in you. You should know that I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said, brushing her hand over my cheek. It tingled where she touched me and remained hot even after she pulled away.

“But....how can anything be safe in this world, without you here?” I asked, hearing the hysteria rising in my voice.

“Sssshhh,” she quieted me once again. “I can’t tell you the things that I know, but I will tell you that there is no more need for you to worry. You fought your fight Oz and now it’s time for you to live. .....and the fight will continue.....without you.” She looked to the sky then.

“I have to go now,” she told me.

“No! You can’t. I have more questions. What happened to you?” Buffy just smiled and shook her head.

“It doesn’t really matter, Oz.” Then she brushed her fingertips over my eyes and the sensation was unlike a touch, but more like a breeze. “Now close your eyes,” she urged me. I didn’t want to do as she asked, I wanted to feast on the image of her before me, but I couldn’t help but comply with her soft command.

Then I felt that breeze of a touch again, only this time it was warmer, wash over my face, my lips, my eyelids, my cheeks, all through my body. I imagined it as a kiss and maybe that’s what she meant for it to be. The feeling stayed with me for a long time, but a panic gripped me and my eyes snapped open. Buffy was no longer there.

I could say that what happened was dream, a product of my fears and needs, but this is the hellmouth, and it’s likely that what had happened, really happened. No matter, it left me feeling a bit relieved, my spirits felt higher and I figured that this was really the reason for the visit.

Reluctantly, I got to my feet, the feeling still lingering in my limbs. But I knew that I wasn’t going to go to the hotel as I had planned. I flipped out my cell phone, calling in the jet to pick me up now, instead of the next morning. I wanted to go home. Back to my life, back to Devon. And I didn’t feel guilt or fear anymore. So, I guess Buffy’s purpose *was* fulfilled.

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The End