Animal - Ch. 20
Ch. 20 - Hymn for the Dead
A finger hooks around my collar and I give it a slight tug. I crane my neck and try to loosen the tie cinched around my neck as Deb has my right hand in an iron grip. The Sergeant at the podium is also in a similar getup, his dress blues clean and pressed with a black band around the shield at his chest. All of us, Debra, me, Cupcake, hell even Elliot and Olivia are here at Dexter’s funeral dressed in N.Y.P.D. blues while Alex and Red are dressed in simple black dress suits.
The weather here is muggy and the cloud cover provides little relief. It’s gonna rain soon that much is obvious. Three days ago we were tear gassing the place that held Deb, her brother and a slayer hostage. Today, we’re burying my uh…I scratch my neck and try to figure out what exactly Debra is to me.
We chatted about it. I was trying to warn her off, but the girl’s persistent. Not to say I don’t want to, I just…she shouldn’t tie herself down to someone old enough to be her father. She told me to fuck off and that she made her decision. It opens up all sortsa questions about our current living situation.
She says she’s gonna find a place somewhere in Manhattan. I wonder if she’s looked at real estate prices. We spent yesterday packing up her and Dexter’s things. Some stuff we gave away. Some stuff she kept. She showed me his collection of blood slides.
I told her to keep them. As crazy as that sounds. It was who he was. What he cherished.
She squeezes my hand and I turn my attention back to Sergeant Batista at the podium, “Dexter, mi hermano in arms, may the Lord cradle you and rest well.” He crosses himself and steps down.
Guess I missed that. Ah well. Cupcake leans in on my left side and whispers, “Jimmy, let her hand go, she needs to go up there.”
I flush and look at Debra. She offers me a thin lipped smile as I let her hand go. Leaning in she kisses me on the cheek and I wonder if the stubble bugs her. I can never seem to get it to go away. Leaning back to my left, I whisper, “Thanks partner.” Cupcake pats my arm and offers me a placating smile.
I give her a once over in her dress blues and wonder how long it’s gonna take Red to have them off her when they get back to the hotel.
“Hi everyone, I’m pretty sure everyone here knows me. I’m Dexter’s sister, Debra…” I watch Deb as she speaks fondly of her brother. Her hair is in bun on the back of her head. Her hat is placed firmly on her head, and her suit is starched and pressed. The only thing that gives her away are the dark circles under her eyes. Those are from the nightmares that I hold her through in the night and her white knuckle grip she has on the podium. She stands next to Dexter’s casket and speaks in a soft timbre laced with regret and grief.
I wish I could take her away from this. Wish she didn’t have to go through this. I can’t though. Buffy says just to be there and let her cry all over my shirt. I have. I will until this over. I’m not sure how long that’ll be. The doctors said she’ll have another two weeks off work. We’re all taking some time away. Buffy and Willow say they may just hole up in the apartment.
Me, I’m thinking once we get Deb back to New York and square the paperwork away for her transfer and her new position in S.V.U. we’ll take a week and go upstate. Me, her, a secluded cabin in the woods for a few days. It’s either got the makings of a really bad horror movie or something not fit for television.
At some point, I’m gonna hafta introduce her to Susie and James. James’ll be alright with it. He’s usually alright with anything. Fact, one time he told me that if I were involved with Buffy and/or Willow that’d be okay with him. Said if he wasn’t gay, he’d be jealous.
Susie’s gonna be a different story. I ain’t looking forward to that conversation.
I refocus my attention back on Deb as she clears her throat. “Dexter was a special man, a good brother. Our father would have been very proud of him. I was.” She straightens and lingers in front of his casket for a moment. I watch as her hand reaches out, resting on the lid. She pulls away finally and looks past the casket, squaring her shoulders. She faces the crowd and resumes her seat next to me.
The priest steps up to the casket and turns to face the crowd of mourners gathered in the cemetery. “At the request of the departed and his family, I was told to take it easy on the “God stuff” A small ripple of laughter goes through the crowd as the joke does what it was intended for and alleviates some of the tension in the crowd. “I will say this; the Universe has a plan for each and every one of us. While we feel the sting of loss and grief, know that Dexter does live. His memory is alive in each of you that loved him. In the lives that he helped saved with his work.” The priest walks the length of the casket, ignoring that drops of water that begin to fall and paste his hair to his head. “As we lower him to his final resting place, go in peace and know he is being taken care of,” the man finishes.
From the back of the crowd, people begin to file forward to pay their last respects to their friend and co-worker. I sit with my girls as we watch people come and go offering their condolences and sympathy. Like a trooper, Deb takes it all until the very last one is gone. The only people that remain are me and the rest of the gang from New York, LaGuerta and Batista. The two Miami cops come up and each offer Deb a hug.
She murmurs a few words to them and I watch as they stride from under the canopy and disappear over a hill that’s pockmarked with grave plaques. She nods at the priest and the casket begins to lower. He’s being buried next to Rita and her kids. Deb says he would have wanted it that way.
She turns to me and falls into my arms. The rain finally breaks as I hold her sobbing form.
Our fingers lace and lock together as we stroll down the boardwalk. It’s not really all that cold tonight, I think the rain from earlier made it a little warmer than what it would have been had it not poured. Our casual stroll after breaking off with everyone after dinner has led Alex and me out by the ocean. The air is crisp, damp and even though it’s only eight in the evening, the night is hushed for a Saturday.
“Liv,” Alex whispers getting my attention. “This good?” she asks and points to a bench we’ve stopped in front of.
I nod and we sit down, snuggling into one another. The sea is black as night and the waves crash into a grey shore. I relax into the gentle touch of Alex’s hands running along the length of my back. Her hand hits my side and she stops.
“Were you expecting trouble Detective?” she asks, fingering the holster of my side arm.
I shrug. “It’s like my American Express card.” She looks slightly confused and I smile. “Never leave home without it.”
“Ah,” she nods. Alex looks at me and eyes the bandage over my eye. “We should change that once we get back to the hotel.”
I reach up and finger the fabric covering the stitches. “They’re fine, dear,” I linger on the word dear and cup her cheek.
If you would have told me three months ago, I would be calling Alex Cabot dear and sharing a bed with her by April I would have involuntarily committed the person who said it.
Now, it’s not a fantasy or a pipe dream I let die. It’s a reality that I need to hold on to, but now…
It’s also a reality that might change after we get done talking. “Hey, Alex,” I lick my lips and gather my thoughts before continuing, “I, uh, can we talk for a moment?”
“I thought we were?”
“Well, yeah, but like talk, talk?” I want to kick myself. I’m forty-five years old. I shouldn’t feel like I’m fifteen begging to ask my boyfriend to go steady. I roll my eyes and run my hand through my hair.
“Detective, is there something that you want to talk about?” my lover asks, teasing me.
I scowl at her before answering, “Yeah, actually there is.” I turn towards her a little more and grab a hold of her hands. “When you came back to testify against Connors, we cleared the air on a few things. These past two months have meant a lot to me Alex. Even with the whole,” I look around the pier and realize we’re the only out here and continue, “vampire - war mess and I don’t really know about you but I’m not getting any younger.”
“Age is relative, Liv.” She tucks some hair behind my ear and leans in whispering against my lips, “You could be eighty and still gorgeous.” Closing the distance, I capture her lips. I press them together briefly not wanting let this escalate into a make out session instead of a conversation.
Pulling away, I say, “Be that as it may, after everything, I really want to try and make this work. I just want to know what we’re going to do.”
“Hmm, well, if you’re intentions are similar to mine, I would say that we take it as it comes.” Her eyes turn to the ocean and she closes her eyes. The moonlight frames her features causing my breath to hitch. She really is stunning. “I need to know what’s more important to you, having me as you’re A.D.A. or having me as your partner.”
“There’s no way we can do both?” I ask hopefully. It’s not like I didn’t know this decision wasn’t coming. I was hoping to prolong it for a little while longer.
Her answer is a shake of her head. “Not really. As much as I’d like both, it’ll create too many conflicts. Jack let’s me get away with a lot. I don’t think he’d let me get away with that. It’ll bring things into question and I already know that I.A.B. would have a conniption.”
I let her words sink in. I hadn’t really thought of it like that, but she’s right. “I’ll take a new A.D.A. if you train them. Breaking in the newbies is…I nearly shot Casey and Greyleck was a pain in the ass.”
“Is that you’re answer?” she asks, turning to me.
“If it’s between the opportunity to try and build a life with you or keeping you in S.V.U. I’m choosing a life.” I smile at her hoping she understands. “I would like it on record that I won’t be held responsible for shooting an A.D.A. though. I also want immunity from the rest of the team if they decide to kill me for making you leave.”
She laughs and rests her head on my shoulder. “I can get you out of the shooting. Trevor is good at what he does.” She winks at me and purrs, “Another dinner in a short red dress, I could get you out of multiple homicide on national television.”
Playfully, I swat her shoulder and gasp, “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Depends,” she shrugs, “it’s John, Elliot and Fin that I’m more worried about.”
Burying my face in my hands, I groan, “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”
“If we make out at your desk, I’m sure they’d forgive you,” she teases.
“You want me to die of embarrassment don’t you?” I ask looking at her through my fingers.
Her arm snakes around my waist, crushing us together. Her nose brushes my ear as she nips at my lobe. “On the contrary, I need you alive.”
I shiver and husk, “That’s a good. Really,” I squeak as her mouth trails down my neck, “good.”
Her ministrations stop as she chuckles against my skin. “I wasn’t aware humans made that kind of sound.”
Blushing, I keep my mouth shut about the sound that came out and instead say, “So then, that’s it?”
Her head comes up and she searches my eyes before nodding. “I’ll put in my transfer paperwork when we get back with the condition that I train the new A.D.A. before I leave.”
I grin from ear to ear and reflect, “I never thought I’d be so happy to get a rookie to break in.”
She returns my smile. “I love you, you know that right?”
I nod, bringing her lips dangerously close to mine. “I know. I love you too,” I whisper before closing the distance.
Looking up as we crest the hill at Flagler Memorial Park, I see the moon’s full. Briefly, I think of Oz and what he would say to me engaged to his ex-honey. Knowing Oz, he’d probably just wish us luck.
I also wonder if Dexter walked this place with Siobhan on their patrols. Did he walk this path hunting the creature that killed him? The cheerleader in me, the little bit that didn’t wither and die away, wants to believe that he didn’t suffer a lot.
The other ninety-nine percent of me knows that he did.
Sighing, Willow squeezes my hand as we spot a bench near the grave we’re looking for. She sits first then makes room for me. I snuggle in next to her and close my eyes. Patrol back in Sunnydale would have been so much better with her if we could have done things like this.
I turn to her and smooth her hair away from her eyes. Even in the pale moonlight, the clear green reflects back at me and I warm. How different I would be if she wasn’t here. Nightmares about her leaving or never having come. Sometimes she doesn’t exist at all. Those are the worst and, if that was the reality that I lived in, I would have been dead long before I jumped off that tower.
She’ll never know how much I owe her. I know I plan on showing her until I do die…again.
I just hope I stay dead the next time.
“Will,” I whisper, “I’ve been thinking.”
Her eyebrow rises and my mouth turns up into a crooked grin.
“We need to set the date on the ceremony and reception.” I grin at her and she blinks.
“We had a date remember?”
Uh oh, I know that tone. I try to back pedal and say, “We did, but with everything, I’m glad we didn’t have it.” Her look tells me she’s not buying it so I try reasonable and cute, “I just want the focus on us. Not on the current demon threat or with a case hanging over our heads. I want that day, our day to be about what we’ve accomplished together.”
Her features soften and she huffs, “And here I thought it was because the hospital had my head firmly planted in the vicinity of my tush.”
I grin and shake my head. “While I was upset, there’s a part of me that understood. I just…” I run my hands through my hair trying to find the right words that will lighten the mood and ensure a naked Wiccan in my bed, “I just didn’t like seeing what that was doing to you.” I look at the faint scar from the stitches she received right before she quit the hospital. My finger reaches out and traces it.
“I’m the one that has the high risk job,” I tease.
Her hand covers mine as I cradle her cheek and she smiles. “So, date?” her tone’s enthusiastic and infectious.
“Yep.” Knowing that I need to do this right that my first proposal here in Miami wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked, although…
The fact that Dexter’s playing another key role this time, just like last, doesn’t escape me. I scoot off the bench and drop to me knee. I’m a slayer, I’m a cop, I’m one of the best at both and kneeling for anyone…
Well, it would only be for her.
I gather her hands in mine and look up at her. “Will, I know the past few months have been…less than stellar. But me wanting you with me hasn’t changed. It won’t. So will you, on August twenty-seventh, marry me?”
Her smile lights up the darkened cemetery and out shines the full moon tonight. The tears in her eyes spill over and track down her cheeks as she nods. Unable to resist, I sigh dramatically and say, “Phew, thank God. I already paid for the reception hall in full.”
My Will laughs as her tongue pokes between her teeth and lips. “Sure of yourself, Buff?”
“I was hedging my bets,” I say standing and pulling her up. Her arms go around my waist as I pull her to me. I tilt my head and meet her lips. The kiss is soft, unhurried and full of a bumpy, happy future for us.
Breaking away, my ear tunes into the ground shifting behind me. “Keep that thought. I’m going to take care of this.” I hold up a finger and spin around, grabbing the stake from the lining of my coat.
I walk up to the fresh mound of disturbed earth and shove my hand in meeting another clawing hand underneath the soil. I grasp his wrist and pull him out to his waist. I look at the yellow eyes and bumpy brow.
He appears shocked as I offer him a sad, smile. As he tries to move, I hold him still, shove the stake into his chest and release my grip on him and my weapon. Backing up, I watch him burn and turn to ash, mixing with the dirt of his grave.
Will comes to my side and takes my dirty hand. She turns to me and kisses my temple before stepping forward and digging in her pocket. The glass of the microscope slide glints in the moonlight. His drop of blood is black against the night and my lover rests it gently on top of his grave plaque. “Goodbye Dexter,” she whispers.
She stands and turns to me offering her hand. Gratefully, I accept it and lead her out to the street the way that we came. I can’t seem to find the words, if there are any, until we reach the busy street two blocks over. “Do you think we did the right thing, not telling Deb?”
I see her think before she answers, “Maybe. Probably.” She swings my arm as we make our way back to our hotel. “I think that she needs to move on and with him…ya know, being…she wouldn’t have.” I mull over what she said for a moment and agree. “So,” she says, “Did you talk to Angel finally?” She bumps my shoulder and I roll my eyes.
“Yes,” I answer. That was an…enlightening conversation. “He says he’s sorry for jetting the way he did. He needed time. I guess. Which is valid. Kind of. He apologized for being a jerk.”
She laughs a little and says, “We should invite him and Spike to the reception.”
I pull on her arm, stopping our progress. “You what, huh?”
Her grin is full of mischief as she says, “We should invite them.” She gathers a stunned me in her arms and explains, “You’re mine. They need to know.”
I rear my head back and look at her like she’s grown two. She wiggles her eyebrows and giggles. “Besides, Buff, rubbing it in, so not a bad thing.”
I laugh and shove away. God she’s incorrigible some times. When I send her a glare, she smirks, “What? Are you telling me that you hadn’t thought about inviting Oz or Kennedy just ‘cause?”
How…my face heats up and I hang my head. I hate it when she knows things she shouldn’t.
“You suck,” I pout and begin walking the last little bit to our hotel.
“But you love me,” Will singsongs behind me. She catches up and her hand slips into mine, twining our fingers together.
Unable to refute her claim, I just keep my mouth shut and head for our room. I have some claiming of my own to do.
A finger hooks around my collar and I give it a slight tug. I crane my neck and try to loosen the tie cinched around my neck as Deb has my right hand in an iron grip. The Sergeant at the podium is also in a similar getup, his dress blues clean and pressed with a black band around the shield at his chest. All of us, Debra, me, Cupcake, hell even Elliot and Olivia are here at Dexter’s funeral dressed in N.Y.P.D. blues while Alex and Red are dressed in simple black dress suits.
The weather here is muggy and the cloud cover provides little relief. It’s gonna rain soon that much is obvious. Three days ago we were tear gassing the place that held Deb, her brother and a slayer hostage. Today, we’re burying my uh…I scratch my neck and try to figure out what exactly Debra is to me.
We chatted about it. I was trying to warn her off, but the girl’s persistent. Not to say I don’t want to, I just…she shouldn’t tie herself down to someone old enough to be her father. She told me to fuck off and that she made her decision. It opens up all sortsa questions about our current living situation.
She says she’s gonna find a place somewhere in Manhattan. I wonder if she’s looked at real estate prices. We spent yesterday packing up her and Dexter’s things. Some stuff we gave away. Some stuff she kept. She showed me his collection of blood slides.
I told her to keep them. As crazy as that sounds. It was who he was. What he cherished.
She squeezes my hand and I turn my attention back to Sergeant Batista at the podium, “Dexter, mi hermano in arms, may the Lord cradle you and rest well.” He crosses himself and steps down.
Guess I missed that. Ah well. Cupcake leans in on my left side and whispers, “Jimmy, let her hand go, she needs to go up there.”
I flush and look at Debra. She offers me a thin lipped smile as I let her hand go. Leaning in she kisses me on the cheek and I wonder if the stubble bugs her. I can never seem to get it to go away. Leaning back to my left, I whisper, “Thanks partner.” Cupcake pats my arm and offers me a placating smile.
I give her a once over in her dress blues and wonder how long it’s gonna take Red to have them off her when they get back to the hotel.
“Hi everyone, I’m pretty sure everyone here knows me. I’m Dexter’s sister, Debra…” I watch Deb as she speaks fondly of her brother. Her hair is in bun on the back of her head. Her hat is placed firmly on her head, and her suit is starched and pressed. The only thing that gives her away are the dark circles under her eyes. Those are from the nightmares that I hold her through in the night and her white knuckle grip she has on the podium. She stands next to Dexter’s casket and speaks in a soft timbre laced with regret and grief.
I wish I could take her away from this. Wish she didn’t have to go through this. I can’t though. Buffy says just to be there and let her cry all over my shirt. I have. I will until this over. I’m not sure how long that’ll be. The doctors said she’ll have another two weeks off work. We’re all taking some time away. Buffy and Willow say they may just hole up in the apartment.
Me, I’m thinking once we get Deb back to New York and square the paperwork away for her transfer and her new position in S.V.U. we’ll take a week and go upstate. Me, her, a secluded cabin in the woods for a few days. It’s either got the makings of a really bad horror movie or something not fit for television.
At some point, I’m gonna hafta introduce her to Susie and James. James’ll be alright with it. He’s usually alright with anything. Fact, one time he told me that if I were involved with Buffy and/or Willow that’d be okay with him. Said if he wasn’t gay, he’d be jealous.
Susie’s gonna be a different story. I ain’t looking forward to that conversation.
I refocus my attention back on Deb as she clears her throat. “Dexter was a special man, a good brother. Our father would have been very proud of him. I was.” She straightens and lingers in front of his casket for a moment. I watch as her hand reaches out, resting on the lid. She pulls away finally and looks past the casket, squaring her shoulders. She faces the crowd and resumes her seat next to me.
The priest steps up to the casket and turns to face the crowd of mourners gathered in the cemetery. “At the request of the departed and his family, I was told to take it easy on the “God stuff” A small ripple of laughter goes through the crowd as the joke does what it was intended for and alleviates some of the tension in the crowd. “I will say this; the Universe has a plan for each and every one of us. While we feel the sting of loss and grief, know that Dexter does live. His memory is alive in each of you that loved him. In the lives that he helped saved with his work.” The priest walks the length of the casket, ignoring that drops of water that begin to fall and paste his hair to his head. “As we lower him to his final resting place, go in peace and know he is being taken care of,” the man finishes.
From the back of the crowd, people begin to file forward to pay their last respects to their friend and co-worker. I sit with my girls as we watch people come and go offering their condolences and sympathy. Like a trooper, Deb takes it all until the very last one is gone. The only people that remain are me and the rest of the gang from New York, LaGuerta and Batista. The two Miami cops come up and each offer Deb a hug.
She murmurs a few words to them and I watch as they stride from under the canopy and disappear over a hill that’s pockmarked with grave plaques. She nods at the priest and the casket begins to lower. He’s being buried next to Rita and her kids. Deb says he would have wanted it that way.
She turns to me and falls into my arms. The rain finally breaks as I hold her sobbing form.
Our fingers lace and lock together as we stroll down the boardwalk. It’s not really all that cold tonight, I think the rain from earlier made it a little warmer than what it would have been had it not poured. Our casual stroll after breaking off with everyone after dinner has led Alex and me out by the ocean. The air is crisp, damp and even though it’s only eight in the evening, the night is hushed for a Saturday.
“Liv,” Alex whispers getting my attention. “This good?” she asks and points to a bench we’ve stopped in front of.
I nod and we sit down, snuggling into one another. The sea is black as night and the waves crash into a grey shore. I relax into the gentle touch of Alex’s hands running along the length of my back. Her hand hits my side and she stops.
“Were you expecting trouble Detective?” she asks, fingering the holster of my side arm.
I shrug. “It’s like my American Express card.” She looks slightly confused and I smile. “Never leave home without it.”
“Ah,” she nods. Alex looks at me and eyes the bandage over my eye. “We should change that once we get back to the hotel.”
I reach up and finger the fabric covering the stitches. “They’re fine, dear,” I linger on the word dear and cup her cheek.
If you would have told me three months ago, I would be calling Alex Cabot dear and sharing a bed with her by April I would have involuntarily committed the person who said it.
Now, it’s not a fantasy or a pipe dream I let die. It’s a reality that I need to hold on to, but now…
It’s also a reality that might change after we get done talking. “Hey, Alex,” I lick my lips and gather my thoughts before continuing, “I, uh, can we talk for a moment?”
“I thought we were?”
“Well, yeah, but like talk, talk?” I want to kick myself. I’m forty-five years old. I shouldn’t feel like I’m fifteen begging to ask my boyfriend to go steady. I roll my eyes and run my hand through my hair.
“Detective, is there something that you want to talk about?” my lover asks, teasing me.
I scowl at her before answering, “Yeah, actually there is.” I turn towards her a little more and grab a hold of her hands. “When you came back to testify against Connors, we cleared the air on a few things. These past two months have meant a lot to me Alex. Even with the whole,” I look around the pier and realize we’re the only out here and continue, “vampire - war mess and I don’t really know about you but I’m not getting any younger.”
“Age is relative, Liv.” She tucks some hair behind my ear and leans in whispering against my lips, “You could be eighty and still gorgeous.” Closing the distance, I capture her lips. I press them together briefly not wanting let this escalate into a make out session instead of a conversation.
Pulling away, I say, “Be that as it may, after everything, I really want to try and make this work. I just want to know what we’re going to do.”
“Hmm, well, if you’re intentions are similar to mine, I would say that we take it as it comes.” Her eyes turn to the ocean and she closes her eyes. The moonlight frames her features causing my breath to hitch. She really is stunning. “I need to know what’s more important to you, having me as you’re A.D.A. or having me as your partner.”
“There’s no way we can do both?” I ask hopefully. It’s not like I didn’t know this decision wasn’t coming. I was hoping to prolong it for a little while longer.
Her answer is a shake of her head. “Not really. As much as I’d like both, it’ll create too many conflicts. Jack let’s me get away with a lot. I don’t think he’d let me get away with that. It’ll bring things into question and I already know that I.A.B. would have a conniption.”
I let her words sink in. I hadn’t really thought of it like that, but she’s right. “I’ll take a new A.D.A. if you train them. Breaking in the newbies is…I nearly shot Casey and Greyleck was a pain in the ass.”
“Is that you’re answer?” she asks, turning to me.
“If it’s between the opportunity to try and build a life with you or keeping you in S.V.U. I’m choosing a life.” I smile at her hoping she understands. “I would like it on record that I won’t be held responsible for shooting an A.D.A. though. I also want immunity from the rest of the team if they decide to kill me for making you leave.”
She laughs and rests her head on my shoulder. “I can get you out of the shooting. Trevor is good at what he does.” She winks at me and purrs, “Another dinner in a short red dress, I could get you out of multiple homicide on national television.”
Playfully, I swat her shoulder and gasp, “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Depends,” she shrugs, “it’s John, Elliot and Fin that I’m more worried about.”
Burying my face in my hands, I groan, “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”
“If we make out at your desk, I’m sure they’d forgive you,” she teases.
“You want me to die of embarrassment don’t you?” I ask looking at her through my fingers.
Her arm snakes around my waist, crushing us together. Her nose brushes my ear as she nips at my lobe. “On the contrary, I need you alive.”
I shiver and husk, “That’s a good. Really,” I squeak as her mouth trails down my neck, “good.”
Her ministrations stop as she chuckles against my skin. “I wasn’t aware humans made that kind of sound.”
Blushing, I keep my mouth shut about the sound that came out and instead say, “So then, that’s it?”
Her head comes up and she searches my eyes before nodding. “I’ll put in my transfer paperwork when we get back with the condition that I train the new A.D.A. before I leave.”
I grin from ear to ear and reflect, “I never thought I’d be so happy to get a rookie to break in.”
She returns my smile. “I love you, you know that right?”
I nod, bringing her lips dangerously close to mine. “I know. I love you too,” I whisper before closing the distance.
Looking up as we crest the hill at Flagler Memorial Park, I see the moon’s full. Briefly, I think of Oz and what he would say to me engaged to his ex-honey. Knowing Oz, he’d probably just wish us luck.
I also wonder if Dexter walked this place with Siobhan on their patrols. Did he walk this path hunting the creature that killed him? The cheerleader in me, the little bit that didn’t wither and die away, wants to believe that he didn’t suffer a lot.
The other ninety-nine percent of me knows that he did.
Sighing, Willow squeezes my hand as we spot a bench near the grave we’re looking for. She sits first then makes room for me. I snuggle in next to her and close my eyes. Patrol back in Sunnydale would have been so much better with her if we could have done things like this.
I turn to her and smooth her hair away from her eyes. Even in the pale moonlight, the clear green reflects back at me and I warm. How different I would be if she wasn’t here. Nightmares about her leaving or never having come. Sometimes she doesn’t exist at all. Those are the worst and, if that was the reality that I lived in, I would have been dead long before I jumped off that tower.
She’ll never know how much I owe her. I know I plan on showing her until I do die…again.
I just hope I stay dead the next time.
“Will,” I whisper, “I’ve been thinking.”
Her eyebrow rises and my mouth turns up into a crooked grin.
“We need to set the date on the ceremony and reception.” I grin at her and she blinks.
“We had a date remember?”
Uh oh, I know that tone. I try to back pedal and say, “We did, but with everything, I’m glad we didn’t have it.” Her look tells me she’s not buying it so I try reasonable and cute, “I just want the focus on us. Not on the current demon threat or with a case hanging over our heads. I want that day, our day to be about what we’ve accomplished together.”
Her features soften and she huffs, “And here I thought it was because the hospital had my head firmly planted in the vicinity of my tush.”
I grin and shake my head. “While I was upset, there’s a part of me that understood. I just…” I run my hands through my hair trying to find the right words that will lighten the mood and ensure a naked Wiccan in my bed, “I just didn’t like seeing what that was doing to you.” I look at the faint scar from the stitches she received right before she quit the hospital. My finger reaches out and traces it.
“I’m the one that has the high risk job,” I tease.
Her hand covers mine as I cradle her cheek and she smiles. “So, date?” her tone’s enthusiastic and infectious.
“Yep.” Knowing that I need to do this right that my first proposal here in Miami wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked, although…
The fact that Dexter’s playing another key role this time, just like last, doesn’t escape me. I scoot off the bench and drop to me knee. I’m a slayer, I’m a cop, I’m one of the best at both and kneeling for anyone…
Well, it would only be for her.
I gather her hands in mine and look up at her. “Will, I know the past few months have been…less than stellar. But me wanting you with me hasn’t changed. It won’t. So will you, on August twenty-seventh, marry me?”
Her smile lights up the darkened cemetery and out shines the full moon tonight. The tears in her eyes spill over and track down her cheeks as she nods. Unable to resist, I sigh dramatically and say, “Phew, thank God. I already paid for the reception hall in full.”
My Will laughs as her tongue pokes between her teeth and lips. “Sure of yourself, Buff?”
“I was hedging my bets,” I say standing and pulling her up. Her arms go around my waist as I pull her to me. I tilt my head and meet her lips. The kiss is soft, unhurried and full of a bumpy, happy future for us.
Breaking away, my ear tunes into the ground shifting behind me. “Keep that thought. I’m going to take care of this.” I hold up a finger and spin around, grabbing the stake from the lining of my coat.
I walk up to the fresh mound of disturbed earth and shove my hand in meeting another clawing hand underneath the soil. I grasp his wrist and pull him out to his waist. I look at the yellow eyes and bumpy brow.
He appears shocked as I offer him a sad, smile. As he tries to move, I hold him still, shove the stake into his chest and release my grip on him and my weapon. Backing up, I watch him burn and turn to ash, mixing with the dirt of his grave.
Will comes to my side and takes my dirty hand. She turns to me and kisses my temple before stepping forward and digging in her pocket. The glass of the microscope slide glints in the moonlight. His drop of blood is black against the night and my lover rests it gently on top of his grave plaque. “Goodbye Dexter,” she whispers.
She stands and turns to me offering her hand. Gratefully, I accept it and lead her out to the street the way that we came. I can’t seem to find the words, if there are any, until we reach the busy street two blocks over. “Do you think we did the right thing, not telling Deb?”
I see her think before she answers, “Maybe. Probably.” She swings my arm as we make our way back to our hotel. “I think that she needs to move on and with him…ya know, being…she wouldn’t have.” I mull over what she said for a moment and agree. “So,” she says, “Did you talk to Angel finally?” She bumps my shoulder and I roll my eyes.
“Yes,” I answer. That was an…enlightening conversation. “He says he’s sorry for jetting the way he did. He needed time. I guess. Which is valid. Kind of. He apologized for being a jerk.”
She laughs a little and says, “We should invite him and Spike to the reception.”
I pull on her arm, stopping our progress. “You what, huh?”
Her grin is full of mischief as she says, “We should invite them.” She gathers a stunned me in her arms and explains, “You’re mine. They need to know.”
I rear my head back and look at her like she’s grown two. She wiggles her eyebrows and giggles. “Besides, Buff, rubbing it in, so not a bad thing.”
I laugh and shove away. God she’s incorrigible some times. When I send her a glare, she smirks, “What? Are you telling me that you hadn’t thought about inviting Oz or Kennedy just ‘cause?”
How…my face heats up and I hang my head. I hate it when she knows things she shouldn’t.
“You suck,” I pout and begin walking the last little bit to our hotel.
“But you love me,” Will singsongs behind me. She catches up and her hand slips into mine, twining our fingers together.
Unable to refute her claim, I just keep my mouth shut and head for our room. I have some claiming of my own to do.