Fire bad, tree pretty.

Of course, there was no fire, and since it was long since dark, it was kinda difficult to tell if there was any trees – pretty or otherwise – outside. Buffy smiled faintly.

"Take a moment to deal with all this," Oz had said. "We survived."

"It was a hell of a battle," she'd replied.

"Not the battle, high school."

Four years later, was this graduating from college? That prompted a humourless snicker from Buffy. No cap, no gown, no degree – but, hey, no apocalypse, either. The world was safe for justice, and for the safety of puppies, and Christmas. Again.

For now.

She sighed.

First Oz, now Spike? What was this? Absent friends gathering collectively at the back of her mind to jeer at her? Would Cordelia be next? Wes? Harmony?

Buffy snickered again, this time with a little more humour. Cordelia and Wes wouldn't be absent much longer – a glance out of the bus window revealed the approaching lights of Los Angeles – and as for Harmony, since when was she a friend, absent or otherwise?

What now?

"Buffy?"

Time to face 'what now'. Buffy looked up to find herself surrounded. Faith, Giles, Robin, Xander, Willow, Dawn. "No nerd?"

Amused, Xander shook his head. "No – he and Kennedy are up front, one driving, one keeping order."

"OK. No. Don't want to know which is which, because either prospect terrifies me," Buffy responded.

"Well, quite," said Giles, smiling.

"So, B," said Faith, leaning on the back of a nearby seat, "what's the plan?"

"Who says I have a plan?" Buffy asked, smiling innocently. "Not the…"

"But you do have a plan," Willow cut in, her resolve face firmly in place.

"I have a few ideas," Buffy admitted.

"Involving…?" Robin asked.

"Annoying us to death?" Dawn suggested.

"That has possibilities." Buffy snickered as Dawn responded by poking her tongue out. "Kidding."

"Well, do you feel you might like to…elaborate?" Giles enquired.

"Well, first, getting to Los Angeles and getting settled."

"B, don't make me kick your butt," Faith warned. "We'd figured that part."

Buffy smirked. "You'd kick my butt?"

"Damn right."

"Ladies?" Xander interjected. "The plan?"

"I could beat it out of her," Faith suggested.

"Yeah right," Buffy shot back.

"Or I could lay a truth spell on you," Willow suggested, resolve face getting more resolve by the second.

Buffy relented. "You guys are no fun." She sighed. "I've got three ideas, really. Someone…a group of someones, probably, ought to go to Cleveland to keep an eye on the new Hellmouth – I know there'll be a protector there already, cos that's the way these mystic prophesy type things work, but seven years' undefeated champions right here. Be a shame to waste that experience."

"Go us," said Willow, resolve face cracking into a grin.

"So that's idea numero uno," said Xander. "What's behind door number two?"

"Finding the rest of the Slayers," suggested Giles. "At a guess."

Buffy nodded. "They're out there. Some might be OK…most…" She shrugged.

"And door number three?" Dawn prompted.

"It's kinda related to finding the other Slayers," Buffy replied. "And kinda related to not wasting experience."

"Slayer School, huh?" said Faith. Buffy nodded. "Cool idea."

"What do you guys think?" Buffy continued.

"Where do you propose to hold this…Slayer Academy?" Giles asked.

Buffy smiled a little. "That kinda depends on Angel."

"Deadboy?" Xander queried, the nickname more a force of habit than out of any real malice. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Well…"

"You're thinking of the Hyperion," Willow guessed.

"As a start off," Buffy agreed. "So what do you guys think?"

"Way cool," said Dawn.

"Of course," Buffy continued, smiling at her sister, "one of us here needs to finish High School, too."

"OK – the plan officially sucks!"

Buffy snickered.

"I think it's a workable plan," Robin mused. "If we do it right, it could even be a legitimate school – academic classes along side Demonology."

"Could we do that?" Buffy asked, a little dubious.

"Sure we could," Robin replied. "It might take a little finessing with the school board, but it's doable."

Buffy blinked. That was more than she'd thought of. More than she'd dared to dream of.

"And I could finish High School there," said Dawn brightly. "Maybe the plan doesn't suck."

"It's a great plan, B," Faith observed. "Just so long as you don't want me to teach."

Buffy smiled a little sheepishly. "I kinda hadn't got that far with things. Didn't wanna build plans until I knew what you guys thought. Figure we've already been there."

"I—if I may?" said Giles. Buffy nodded. "It is an excellent set of plans. I, for one, would be happy to help you. There is, however, one slight condition."

Buffy lifted her eyebrows. "Condition?"

"Well…more of a request." Buffy made a winding motion with her hand. "If any of the remaining field Watchers suggest to you that reassembling a Watcher Council would be a good idea, please refrain from giving them your opinion of the old Watcher Council."

"Um, not exactly getting you here, Giles," said Buffy.

"I think," Xander guessed, "what the G-man is trying to tell you, Buff, is that he wants to be the one to kick their butts."

"I wouldn't have put it quite like that," said Giles, "but essentially, yes."

Buffy tipped her head back and laughed. "Well, far be it for me to deny my Watcher his fair share of butt kickage."

~*~

Angel looked around the Hyperion's lobby and shook his head. Fred was curled up fast asleep in one chair. Lorne was sprawled, snoring, across another. Gunn had taken possession of a third and was now snoozing like a well-fed cat. Wesley had claimed the last chair. The ex-watcher wasn't asleep – quite – but he wasn't far from it. Only Lilah was properly awake.

"Don't need sleep, huh?"

"Hardly," she shot back. "Besides, I'm too curious." Angel's eyebrows lifted. "So I want to meet this Buffy Summers. Bite me."

"No thanks. Not really my type."

Fred had actually taken Buffy's hasty phone call – everyone else had been scouring the Wolfram and Hart archives for anything and everything that might have been some use against The First. Well, he, Gunn, Lorne and Wesley had. Lilah had just stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorpost and looking amused. As they had rapidly been drawing a blank in the archives, the call that their search was unnecessary was a relief – and a big one – even if it had necessitated a return to the Hyperion to await Buffy's arrival. Angel supposed he could have called her and told her to come to Wolfram and Hart's offices, but it somehow seemed easier to meet at the Hyperion.

"As a matter of interest," Lilah mused, "why did you fall for the Slayer?"

"Serious case of opposites attract," informed a new voice from the hotel's doorway.

Angel couldn't help but smirk as Lilah jumped. He'd known the busload of slayers and slayerettes had just arrived – had heard the bus pull to a stop outside in point of fact. The undead lawyer had clearly not been paying that much attention. Swivelling his gaze, he found his eyes falling on Xander, the speaker, then on Willow and a tall, dark haired girl beside her – not Tara, Angel knew that much. Kennedy, then? Behind them, the familiar form of Giles, the equally familiar form of Faith and another unknown, new, member of the gang – this one a large black man who was obviously with Faith and Faith was with him, an idea subtly underscored by the way he seemed to be leaning on Faith for support.

"So this is Angel," observed Kennedy. "Cool."

"Yep, this is Deadboy," agreed Xander.

"And to think I missed this," Angel muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Welcome to the Hyperion," he added.

"And you are welcome to it," put in Lilah.

"Ooh – her, I like," Xander responded.

"She's just your type," Angel put in. "Already dead."

"Wrong Scooby," said a new voice. "It's my sister who dates dead people." Dawn grinned. "No offence."

Angel rolled his eyes again. "Dawn."

"A—he's a vampire!" The exclamation drew Angel's gaze to the nerdy-looking blonde man (boy?) who had followed Dawn in.

"Who are you?"

"Tucker's brother," came the unison response from Willow, Xander and Dawn.

"Oh." No, not going to ask.

"And where've you been hiding the whole way down here anyway?" Kennedy wanted to know. "Mean to tell me you didn't get Buffy's memo about this?"

'Tucker's Brother' – whatever his name actually was – looked shiftily guilty. "There…there was a memo?"

"Not literally," said yet another fresh voice. "But I did say it pretty loudly so you've got no excuse Andrew."

Angel smiled at the sight of that voice's owner even as she led another twenty or so people he didn't recognise and who were all looking at him nervously.

"Buffy."

"In the very tired flesh," she replied.

"Angel-cakes – you didn't wake us!" objected a voice from the chairs, although Lorne's normally flamboyant tones were all but smothered by a powerful yawn.

"I—if I may?" said Giles. "Perhaps we could all get some proper rest? Introductions can probably wait until we're all more rested."

Angel nodded. "Of course." Glancing at the chairs he found that Lorne wasn't the only one of AI now awake. Both Gunn and Fred were also blinking owlishly at the sudden invasion.

"How about," suggested Lorne uncurling himself and startling a couple of the younger Slayers, "Fred, Gunn and I show everyone upstairs."

Angel smiled and nodded. Leave it to Lorne. "Sounds like a good idea."

"I'm with Lorne," Willow put in. "Bed sounds good."

"Definitely five by five," observed Faith.

"I'm with the Green Guy over there," Xander contributed.

Lorne's expression at that was one that Angel suspected would live long in his memory. Eyes widened, mouth hanging open. "What kind of a demon do you think I am?"

"Now that is Xander's type," pointed out Buffy.

Lorne looked even more alarmed.

Tiredly, Xander put in, "Demon girls, Buff, demon girls. Green Guy…"

"Lorne," Lorne put in.

"Lorne, then, is perfectly safe." Xander paused. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation."

"This way, folks," Gunn intervened.

"I'll see to Wesley," said Lilah, slinking across to the one remaining sleeping member of AI.

"TMI," muttered Gunn.

The lobby started to almost magically empty as Gunn, Fred and a relieved looking Lorne led people up to the residential floors of the hotel.

"Buffy?" Angel asked as she moved to follow the exodus. "Can I…?"

She smiled brightly and now Angel could see the strain of the battle on her face. She might be smiling, but the shadows were lurking in her eyes. "Sure."

Angel waited until the last people – an extremely sleepy Wesley and an ever-wide-awake Lilah – had departed. "What happened?"

Buffy's smile faded. "We won."

"At what cost?"

Buffy sighed. "Is this a tactful way of asking me where Spike is?"

"Am I that transparent?"

She looked up. "Not transparent more… No, transparent it is." Angel waited. "If you're expecting me to say he skipped out, or that we won no thanks to him…not gonna happen."

Angel lifted an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting that." Buffy fixed him with a look. "I wasn't. I know Spike can see things through to the end."

"We won because of him," Buffy stated softly.

The hardened shell cracked a little and out came tumbling explanations. Before long, Angel found himself wrapping arms around her petite shoulders, hugging her. A single sob escaped, muffled by his chest.

"I miss him," she finished. "Is that wrong?"

"What do you want me to tell you?" Angel replied.

Buffy sighed and pulled free. "I…I'll see you in the morning. We've got plans to talk about."

Angel watched her walk across the lobby. "I guess it's because he's been a constant in your life," he finally ventured.

She stopped. "What is?"

"Spike. Missing him. He didn't walk out on you. Didn't leave you alone. Was always out there. Now he isn't." Angel slowly shook his head. "Now he isn't there to annoy either of us, fight with us, yell at us…"

"You miss him."

"Tell anyone else and I'll deny it."

Buffy smiled faintly. "Who'd believe me?"

With that, she headed up the stairs, leaving Angel alone in the foyer of the Hyperion. Somehow, he had a feeling that this wasn't an ending but a beginning.

The real question was, beginning of what?

~*~

Los Angeles.

City of Angels.

Home of Hollywood.

A place where anything can happen – and frequently does.

Devon Mulligan was already two thirds of the way through his first bottle of alcohol when the portal opened. He didn't pay it too much mind. It was probably some sort of publicity stunt for some movie exec. Or something. Who knew? Who cared, more to the point? He certainly didn't. Glowy lights in the sky were none of his affair, thank you very much.

So he ignored it, swallowed more of the cheep booze and staggered on along the alley.

He continued to ignore it when the wind started to get up, tossing the loose papers and other garbage around like confetti.

It was a little more disturbing when lightning forked down and struck the ground barely a yard ahead of him, but it was still none of his business.

What finally got him screaming like a banshee was the falling body. Even for Los Angeles, that was weird. Too weird for Devon Mulligan, certainly. Dropping the nearly empty bottle of booze, he turned tail and fled the alley. Who cared if it was some publicity stunt, he was outta there!

Meanwhile, in the alley, the body hit the cement with the vague 'ouf' noise of air being forced out of lungs. Given the height it fell from, it was surprising that there was no sound of bones being broken or flesh being torn. Had there been anyone to notice that fact, they would have probably decided this whole business had gone beyond weird and was well into the realms of supernatural.

But there wasn't.

There was only the body.

And that was currently lifeless.

The wind died away, the lightning vanished and the portal closed. The litter finally settled back onto the grimy concrete and things generally returned to normal in that alley. Or at least, as normal as you got to with a dead body lying, sprawled face down and naked, in the middle of it.

A rat, a little more curious than the rest of the other native occupants of the alley, made its way out of its hiding place to investigate the body, but it had barely come within a yard of the corpse when the corpse ceased to be a corpse, sending the rat scurrying back to its hole.

Stilled lungs suddenly flooded with air.

Motionless muscles suddenly contracted.

Life slowly flowed back into the ex-corpse.

A few hacking coughs and palpitations later and lungs and heart settled into a proper healthy rhythm as if they'd never stopped.

Moments passed while the body reacquainted itself with the business of being alive, then it gave a groan as consciousness slowly returned.

It, he in point of fact, started to push himself into a more comfortable position, groaning again as the realisation hit him that concrete just wasn't comfortable. But that groan tailed off as he finally hit fully conscious.

"What on earth…" he began.

Suddenly surging into an upright position, he looked around himself in disbelief, shock and no little horror while his hands frantically searched his naked form for any scrap of clothing.

But there wasn't so much as a stitch of fabric on him.

And he really was sitting in the middle of an alley.

And he really did have no clue where he was or how he'd got there.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled, the profanity slipping off his tongue with surprising ease. He frowned. There ought to be something more to say about his situation, but as he thought about it, he decided that those two words rather summed it up. "Bloody hell."