Numb and Number: Epilogue
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Title: Numb and Number
Rating: PG
Warnings: Major character death
Summary: Three men have to band together when everything around them falls apart. Set practically post-NFA.
Disclaimer: I own none of BTVS or ATS
Comment: Pretty please!
Previous chapters here
35 years later
“Nice to have proper beer back again,” Spike sighed and put down his second pint.
“Excellently put,” Wesley agreed, draining his dry and signaling for another.
“Nothing I say will have any input,” Oz remarked, taking his second drink from his first pint.
“Bloody American,” Spike said good naturedly. “Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?”
“Strange that we should be there,” Wesley said.
“Not really, about the only things the old bloke had left in his life,” Spike argued.
“Technically, we’re old now too,” Oz told him pointing to himself and Wesley
“Still older than you,” Spike said proudly. “And yet, the best looking. Certainly
pays to be me, maturity and beauty all in one.”
“Don’t forget the modesty.” Wesley rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I was just thinking that when I first met him, it certainly never occurred to me that I would be attending Giles’ funeral.”
“You only thought about taking his job,” Oz reminded him. Wesley winced.
“I thought we agreed never to talk about anything over fifteen years past.”
“Funerals make the exception,” Oz decided. “Certainly happened at Faith’s last year.”
“Still can’t believe the old bird only made it to half a century,” Spike said without malice.
“You know she would never have been satisfied to die of old age,” Wesley told him. “She would’ve thought it spoke badly of her Slaying abilities.”
“She was the last.” Spike raised his glass in a toast. “The last real Slayer.”
Wesley and Oz raised their glasses too.
“These things are rather surreal though,” Wesley observed. “I guess we should have known Angel would be there, but it was still rather sudden.”
“You’re acting like you just met up with your ex, Wes,” Spike jibed him.
“Old wounds,” Wesley said in explanation. “I didn’t notice you doing any weeping over the meeting.”
“Weep over my grandsire?” Spike asked incredulously. “Knew that Kargayas demon messed with your head.”
“Since I stopped him from snacking on your left forearm?” Wesley returned.
“Wish Dawn could’ve made it,” Spike mumbled instead of continuing the spat.
“She probably just lost track of time in her own dimension,” Wesley soothed. “You know she checks in every decade or so.”
“Yeah,” Spike sighed. “Miss the Bit.”
“Let’s toast Giles too,” Oz said, effectively changing the subject. “It’s kind of like a dad dying. Which is interesting.”
Spike raised an eyebrow, but nodded in consent.
“To our totally almost non dad-like Dad, Giles,” he said, lifting his mug. “May he rest in peace.”
“Good words.” Wesley lifted his as well and Oz copied his motions. Spike put down his glass and settled back into his chair.
“Don’t want to mix business with proper mourning rituals, but where are we heading next?”
“Slayers in the next county over are having trouble with a little paranormal uprising,” Wesley answered. “Sound good?”
“Yeah,” Oz said.
“Sounds perfect for the old guys, me and our handy dandy diamond,” Spike smirked at them. Wesley and Oz just paid attention to their pints and ignored him.
The End-Thanks for reading