It was odd the things you think of at a time like this. They say your life flashes before your eyes; weird how it works—not so much flashes but snippets of pain and happiness.

When you are over a thousand years old there are lots of memories to choose from.

Odd the ones that jump out at you.

And where was the order?? Surely there should have been some type of chronological sequence to them, but no they came in random spurts.

Drinking wine at a banquet in France as noble men and women were dragged out of the room to the guillotine. She remembered feeling the satisfaction of a job well done; no remorse as Marie Antoinette begged her to take back the wish.

Cowering under a table as her father laid his fists into her mother, beating her because she had dared to ask if the babe in the barmaid’s belly was his.

Lying in bed tracing the lines of Xander’s back as he slept beside her, the ring on her engagement finger glinting lightly in the moonlight.

Standing in a darkened room surrounded by demons as D’Hoffryn placed her amulet around her neck for the first time. Was that the first time she had ever truly felt accepted? The first place she had actually fit in?

Watching as the people from her village ran in terror from her unfaithful boyfriend. Even then they had ignored her; saw her as strange and off putting. It had been her first taste of true power, even if at the time she’d been oblivious to it.

Standing behind the counter at the Magic Box as she watched Giles balance the books; joy filling her as he asked her if she would like to learn to do them.

Meeting Cecily for the first time, in a small dark room where the girl had made the wish that would elevate her to demon hood; turning her into Halfrek—her first real friend, someone to share her successes with. Strange that it had also brought the victim of that vengeance back into her life so many years later—someone who had become the only person who really seemed to understand her.

Feeling lost and alone again when her amulet was taken from her. Learning to live as a human—and all the emotions that went along with it, and having no one to tell her how to express them.

Seeing Buffy’s broken body as it lay among the debris of the tower. Why would she think of that?

Like she had said before, odd the things you think of.

Where would she go from here? She didn’t think heaven; after all she had killed tens of thousands over the years. Strange that her human companions had blocked out her past and yet they constantly shoved Spike’s in his face.

Was it because she had been dragged into the human world and Spike had stayed in the realm of the supernatural?

Did being human give you a free pass to do and say whatever you wished with the knowledge that those around you would just accept it?

Odd.

She thought she would need at least another thousand years to understand the way the human mind worked.

And the human heart; how did that work?

She’d thought she understood, but then Xander had left her at the altar, all the while professing his love for her. How could you say you love someone in one breath and then totally destroy them in the next?

Buffy was like that too, she said she wanted love, but when it was offered to her she threw it back. Tossed it aside because it didn’t fit into her precise little view of how the world should be.

But when those whose hearts had been treated so cruelly reached out for a little solace, they were treated as the guilty party; made to feel that they were the ones who should be striving for forgiveness—that they were the ones beneath notice, beneath compassion, beneath love.

That wasn’t the way it worked, was it? When you hurt someone weren’t you the one who was supposed to offer penance?

Odd.

Time was another thing; her thousands of years of life had seemed to flash by in the blink of an eye, yet the feel of the Bringers blade as it carved its way through her back and chest seemed to last an eternity.

Was this some kind of weird karmic payback? That each second leading to the last of your existence should stretch out before you; giving you time to see all the slights and sins of your life.

She knew that she would need to pay for her years as a demon, after all she had never asked for forgiveness, never offered restitution, never sought out redemption.

She thought that maybe Spike would, he had changed so much over the years that she had known him. But not her, she didn’t want redemption, not really. But then, when D’Hoffryn had taken her back it hadn’t been the same.

So maybe she had changed after all. Did that mean she had a chance at peace now? She thought not, but that was ok.

Odd.

It was ok that she was dying. It was ok that she would most likely spend the rest of eternity in hell. It was ok that she would never be able to tell Xander that she still loved him, even though he had never truly said he was sorry for hurting her. It was ok.

Did she regret anything? No, not really. Her life was what it was and she would not have changed a thing.

Odd

Surely there was one thing; some small gesture, word or deed that she regretted?

No… nothing.

Maybe???? No, there was nothing she could think of.

Odd

Would the others grieve for her when all was said and done? Would they even survive? She hoped so; it would seem such a waste if her death ultimately meant nothing. And if she was going to spend an eternity in hell, would she arrive in the clothes she now wore, or would she get to choose her own outfit?

Odd the things you think of…

The end