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TITLE: Nighttime Conversation
AUTHOR: Ragna (writinggoddess@aol.com)
RATING: FRC
CLASSIFICATION: Spike/Other, Xander/Other, Giles/Other, Willow/Oz
SPOILERS:
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just keep my name on it and let me know.
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or them. I'm just holding Spike, Xander and Oz hostage. You may see them by appointment only.
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if it's onlist or not.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, this is part of the Giles Saga. I'm suffering from Writer's block and I wanted to do a quick one shot in honor of Mother's Day. This is dedicated to my mom, and to my friend Gillian, who also got over her writer's block. Beware, though...it's a little sad.

***

She walked through the graveyard quietly. The flowers in her hands were simple: a few roses, and some carnations, a sunflower and some other pretty flowers. She didn't know what the were.

The area where her mother was buried was quiet, next to her father's grave. They'd both loved Sunnydale, even though he was English and she was Irish. Both had asked to be buried next to each other, and she had obliged.

Besides, there was more of the living family in Sunnydale, so it made sense.

"Hi, Mom," Alex said quietly as she knelt down by the grave. She placed the flowers down gently, almost as though the ground would crumble away if she put too much pressure on it.

"It's been a while since I've been here. I'm sorry for that, I've been busy. Watching Gaby is easy, but my other business...it's getting on my nerves."

She sat down on the soft dirt next to the grave. "Let's see...Uncle Rupert's okay. He's dating again. A really nice woman named Patricia. She helped take care of me when I had pneumonia. And she was one of the witches who helped in the spell."

Patting some of the dirt on the grave down, she looked at the moonlight bathed tombstone. "Xander's gotten really protective of Gaby. Which she doesn't mind one bit. I think some nights when she goes out patrolling, they end up cutting it short and spending quality time together."

"Let's see...Willow and Oz are happy. He actually talked to me about how to ask someone to marry them. So I think he's seriously considering asking Willow to marry him. Which would be good. Buffy's ecstatic about the news that Mike might be coming back to Sunnydale permanently. She's already planning, and he won't be showing up until August."

"And...my business is doing fine. I made some donations in your name to your favorite causes, in your honor more like it. The local library will be getting computer equipment, and the room will be dedicated in your honor. I asked for that."

She shifted the flowers and continued. "Spike and I are getting along fine. He still resents using the blood bags, but it's either that or starve, and he knows that. He's gotten really protective of me, which isn't so bad. In fact, everyone has, so it's not so bad. He's also actually started admitting he loves me, with no prodding. Which I'm glad to hear."

She wiped away a tear and looked up at the night sky. "I wish you could meet him. Once you get past the cocky attitude he's actually very sweet. And romantic. And...he's wonderful. Course, he's dead, so that must be a sign." Laughing a little she looked back at the grave. "But he's here, so I'm happy. Wish you were here, too."

"Are you done, love?" Spike said as he walked up behind her, putting the recently used stake back in the pocket of his duster.

"Almost," Alex replied, standing up and reaching over for his hand. Taking a last look at the grave, she smiled. "Happy Mother's Day, Mom."

As the two walked away, Spike said quietly, "She'd be proud of you, Alex. Very proud."

"I know," came the quiet reply as tears ran down her cheeks.

The grave of Debra McPherson-Giles was surrounded by an almost softly glowing light, which faded quickly, leaving a small rose carved on the tombstone.