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A Mad-Hamlet Production

Curtain Call

Willow Rosenberg, redhead, witch, fighter of evil and hacker extrordinaire collapsed on the ground next to the peacefully smiling blonde.

'Haaa...haa...haa..." The redhead gasped sucking in huge lungfuls of air. "I am...haa...so...not an athlete, Buffy."

Buffy Summers took in a deep breath herself and slowly let it out. "Willow," she said softly. "It's not like climbing this hill was a huge task of endurance."

"Haaa...you...try carrying...haaa...the picnic baskets." Willow muttered.

"I did," Buffy replied. "Both of them."

"Point," the redhead conceded then flopped on her back onto the grass with a quiet groan. "Ugg...I can't feel my legs!'

The hill in question was a slight rise, coated with an even carpet of thick, green grass. Around the base of the hill tall stately trees with ashen trunks thrust proudly into the sky, branches held high, green leaves attuned to receive maximum exposure to the suns rays. The sun itself beamed overhead, contested in its might by a few slow, gracefully drifting, fluffy clouds. They only occasionally came between the sun and the earth bringing momentary relief from the sun, a welcome break to coolness and then return to gentle warmth.

Sitting up slightly Buffy stared at the now reclining hacker, "It can't be that bad," she said. "What happened to the old Rosenberg getup an' go?"

"Alas," Willow said melodramatically, throwing her arm across her face. "Tis lost, tis lost. The Rosenberg Getup an' Go got to getup , did getup then having gotup-ed, got gone and got lost."

The redhead paused, mouthing the words she had just said as Buffy stared at her. "Does that make sense?" the redhead asked. A moment then she answered herself, "Yeah...yeah I think it does."

The Slayer continued to stare at her best friend. She blinked a few times. Then a few times more, still not saying anything. Willow looked at her, "What?" she asked. "Can't a person wonder about things no one in their right mind would seriously think about?"

"Your brain is not functioning correctly," Buffy said. "It's not working because of a lack of food. This is a problem we shall correct now."

"Picnic!" Willow squealed. "Yay, I'll get the fire started!"

"Fire?" Buffy asked. "Willow's a warm, sunny, need I not mention just a little past lunchtime? What do we need a fire for?"

Without a word Willow began digging through one of the picnic baskets with a cry of 'Aha!' she pulled out what she had found and held it up for Buffy to see, a mute but final argument to why they would need a fire.

A bag of Max-O-Liscious marshmallows.

"Marshmallows, of course," The Slayer murmured. "What could I have been thinking."

The blonde began taking items, and various foodstuffs out of the first of two bulging picnic baskets. First she laid out a checkerboard red and white blanket and spread it evenly over the grass. 'Just like tradition,' she thought to herself. Next she began laying out the food. A plate of cakes went in one corner, sliced meats followed after being laid beside the cakes. Then there was a small bowl of fruits, apples, oranges and bananas all carefully arranged and held in place with some saran wrap. Finally Buffy grabbed the two thermos and gave them each a good shake.

Opening the second picnic basket Buffy pulled out various cold cuts, plates, utensils and a package of hot dogs.  She laid all these out carefully on the blanket too. "There," she mumbled. "All set, and it looks good too. Very aesthetic."

Willow, in the meantime, had been scouring the surrounding area and grabbing up any small twigs, or branches she could find. It didn't take very long before she had a reasonable pile of wood that would burn for a few hours at least. 'Now, all I have to do is light it.' The redhead mentally griped.

"Food's ready, Willow," Buffy called.

"Just a second," Willow called back. "Just got to get the fire started."

"Uh-" Buffy held up a hand attempting to forestall the witch's attempt at pyrotechnics.

Waving her hand in a complicated gesture Willow stared at the pile of branches intently then thrusting her hand, palm outward, at the pile she cried out the words, 'Flame on!'

The wood burst into flame with a quiet woomfph and began to burn merrily.

Buffy stared at the fire then at the pleased redhead sporting a mile wide grin. Her gaze flickering back from one to the other. "Flame on?" the blond finally wondered aloud.

Willow shrugged still grinning, "So I was reading some of Xander's old 'Fantastic Four' comics recently. It worked didn't it?"

"Come and eat," Buffy chuckled.

Willow leaped to her feet and walked the short distance to the blanket now covered with food. "Wow, Buffy! It looks so good!"

"Well, yeah," Buffy awkwardly replied, her cheeks beginning to glow a little. "No big deal though, just a picnic."

"Yeah but...its..." Willow stuttered slightly. "So many pretty colors. The red and white of the blanket, the oranges of the...uh..oranges. The green of the grass behind it all, the yellow bananas. Oh and that cute pile of very blue blueberries goes so well next to the black olives."

The redhead scrambled across the blanket and grabbed at a bowl. "Look," she said holding up what she had found. "Grapes! Big beautiful, violet grapes! I love grapes." So saying she gently plucked one off the vine and popped in into her mouth.

"Mmmm..." she chewed nosily letting her head fall back in a parody of ecstasy. "Juicy grapes."

Buffy watched Willow mutely but with a huge smile on her face. "Okay," she finally interrupted. "We got the whole spectrum here and, yeah, it looks good but let's eat it okay? I'm starved!"

"I hear that," Buffy agreed reaching for the first dish that caught her eye. "Let's dig in."

The heart of the fire, a nesting place of red hot coals, glowed like a forge. Occasionally part of a branch, its center burned to ash, would crumble away and the pile would rustle slightly, shift, then resume the burning at a leisurely pace.

"Its a duck," the redhead stated.

"No, I have to disagree," the blond replied. "It is, most definitely a dragon."

The redhead rolled her eyes, "Buffy, look where I'm pointing, follow my finger see where I'm pointing? There, that's its bill, than there are the wings, the waddling feet and the cute wiggly tail is right there."

Buffy sat up, leaning on her elbows, "No, no. What you call its waddling feet are the big eyes. Your bill is the dragons left wing, can't see the right one because its behind the tail there." The Slayer pointed overhead. "See?"

Willow cocked her head to the side and peered upwards at the heavens. "Tail? I don't see any tail."

"It's right there!" Buffy insisted pointing at the particular cloud.

"No it isn't."

"It is."

"No, its not," Willow replied with a mock pout.

"Oooo..." Buffy turned away from the redhead. "You're so stubborn."

With a triumphant smirk Willow nodded, " Darn tootin'!"

Buffy turned back around with a half smile, "Course I like stubborn," she said quietly.

The cloud, now ignored by the two girls drifted onward, pushed on its way by the soft breeze.

The girls were silent for a time. Buffy turned to look back at the blanket, most of the dishes were empty, with a few crumbs or small slices left behind to mark what had originally been there. In the center of the blanket, still for the most part untouched, lay a dish of cakes. The cakes were laid in light, white frosting and each one had a slice of strawberry in the middle. Buffy's stomach, despite the recent feast spoke up.

'That cake sure looks good,' It whispered. 'We could have a piece.'

Her hand, almost with a will of its own, began to creep across the blankets toward the cake. Then Willow gently placed her hand atop of Buffy's and gently curled her fingers around it, stopping The Slayer's surreptitious progress toward the plate of desserts.

"Will?" Buffy looked at the redhead, slightly confused.

"Don't..." The hacker swallowed then started over. "Don't Buffy."

They sat in silence for a second then, "Why?" Buffy said softly.

"Because you know as well as I do that when we eat those cakes it will be over," Willow replied. "No more food, no more picnic."

The silence returned but the not comfortable easy quiet of before; this time it was thick, forceful a pressure bearing down on the two women letting them know in each and every tick of the clock that it was one less second left to them. In the meantime the world continued to turn. The cloud that had been the heart of the great Dragon or Duck debate had long ago drifted over the horizon, the sun had sank a good ways and was only a small bit above the edge of the world itself. A breeze came and went across the land, sending the branches of all the trees singing in the wind and the grass itself buzzing and rippling like an ocean. Nothing said anything anywhere, except the breeze.

"I'm scared, Buffy," Willow moaned, her voice a strangled whisper.

Buffy looked down at the blanket where the young woman still held her hand, no longer soft but firm and desperate. The knuckles on the witches hand standing out in contrasting whiteness against her already pale skin. The young blonde reached over and with her free hand caressed Willow's cheek. Using just her fingertips to trace the path along one red eyebrow, down to the soft spot between them, along the bridge of Willow's nose to the point and then down across her lips.

Buffy let her fingers linger on the redheads lips a moment, 'Soft,' she thought to herself. 'I love how soft...will they always be this soft? Will they remember how soft Willow's lips are?'

"Don't be scared, Wil" Buffy said brushing her thumb across Willow's lips. Willow turned her head away, forcing The Slayer to stop her efforts at comfort.

"But its ending!" Willow protested. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Is it?" Buffy asked. "Ending I mean."

"It'll be worse then death," Willow said, her eyes became glassy, a light sheen of unshed tears appeared. "At least in death we keep going somewhere."

Buffy laughed slightly, "No Willow, it's not that bad."

Willow's lower lip began to tremble and the tears started falling, one...then two...streaked down her cheek. Reaching out with a single finger The Slayer brushed at Willow's cheeks, catching the two tears on her fingertip then slowly, she placed the finger between her own lips and drank the tears.

"It's not Ending, ending, Willow," she said. "It will never totally end."

Willow didn't respond only sniffed slightly shaking her head.

Leaning forward Buffy took the redheads face between her hands and looked into the deep, frightened, green eyes, "Yes Willow, believe me. We're not going anywhere."

"How can you be sure?" Willow protested. "Its ending isn't it?"

Slumping slightly Buffy conceded the point, "Yes, it is but that doesn't mean we're not loved. It just means...time is up. There will be others."

"Others?"

"Yeah, we'll always be here," The Slayer spoke and as she spoke she became more and more animated. "It's not just one you know, but many, and maybe the end result won't always be perfect and maybe...we..."

"...we won't always be together." Willow finished the sentence.

"No!" Buffy shook her head violently. "We always will be, because that's the way its seen."

"Oh c'mon, Buffy," Willow argued. "Sometimes we'll be friends, sometimes we'll be enemies. There have been times when I've killed you or you me and...and that's not even the least of  what's happened. And you call this love?" Willow grabbed Buffy's wrists and gently pulled her The Slayer's hands away then standing up she stalked away angrily until she reached the top of the hill. She stared into the setting sun, now half behind the horizon.

The fiery orb cast a line of yellows, oranges, reds and purples into the heavens until they faded away into the deep blue of approaching night. Slowly, softly Buffy stepped up behind Willow, she opened her arms and eased them around the redhead's waist. Willow shuddered slightly at the contact before turning in Buffy's arms and burying her face in Buffy's shoulder.

"Shhhh," Buffy whispered as the witch trembled in her arms. "Shhhh, it's okay. Everything is okay, shhhhh."

After a time, while the sun continued to set and The Slayer continued to rock Willow gently, the young woman settled down and they just held each other in silence.

For a time.

"You can eat the cakes, Buffy, if you want to," Willow whispered in a leaden, defeated voice. "The sun's almost down. Times almost up, things are...just about over."

"Wil," Buffy breathed the word across the witches neck, the warm air so close to the skin stirring all the tiny hairs. "I can eat the cakes. I can eat the cakes. The cakes here, at home at the bakery, I can eat every cake there is. The picnic can end, the sun can set...but it still won't be over." She squeezed Willow tighter. "It still won't be the end, just...time for something else."

"You're sure," Willow said.

"Very," Buffy nodded. She rested her chin on the redhead's shoulder and watched the sunset. Then turned Willow around so she too could watch the last moments of the day, "Look," she said, pointing to the horizon. "Day's over but we're still loved and we still love, that's how I know it's not over."

"Huh?" Willow said, not tearing her eyes from the last slivers of light on the horizon.

"I still love you, you still love me, we're in love, we love and therefore are loved," Buffy whispered. "That'll never change, it's not going to."

"Hmph," Willow sighed. "Never was easy to reach that point."

"No," Buffy nodded digging her chin slightly into Willow's shoulder. "But always worth it."

"It could start again?" Willow asked her voice full of hope. "It could... you know...not be totally over yet?"

Buffy shrugged and squeezed the redhead's waist tighter. "Dunno," she sighed. "Anything's possible."

The last edge of the sun fell behind the tree line.

Night fell.

The two lovers stood on top of a black hill, on a dark, starless night.

"Well," Buffy said. "That's that."

"Yep," Willow nodded.

"Wasn't so bad now was it?" Buffy asked released her hold on Willow.

"Nope," The redhead shook her head. "Rather anti-climatic. Where to now?"

The Slayer took the hacker's hand in one of her own and they began slowly walking down the hill toward the dark trees.

"Now," Buffy intoned seriously. "Now we go somewhere else."

"I still say it was a duck," Willow giggled.

"Dragon."

"Duck."

"Dragon!"

"Duck!"

END-Curtain Call

Authors Notes: Goodbye.

I remain, as always,

Mad-Hamlet