They were at the end—the apocalypse had come to an end, and both vampires knew the Shanshu would soon be fulfilled.
Angel and Spike were beside each other, on their knees, hands chained behind their backs. Under other circumstances it might have been kinky—if the latest big bad weren't coming in to face them. Angel and Spike both lifted their heads at the same time to find...
"Oz?" Angel asked.
"Oz? Didn't you date Red, before she went gay?" Spike asked.
Oz, in a green suit, hair cut close to his head, wearing big black glasses threw his head back and laughed...
"Silly souled vampires!" Oz said in an odd French voice, "I am more than Oz, I am the Powers that Be!" They looked at him. "In human form, of course." Oz walked over to a big board set up in Angel's office, and took a pointer and a marker off his desk. He drew Sunnydale and LA.
"First," Oz said in his silly French villain voice, pointing to Sunnydale, "I came here, in order to keep an eye on the souled vampire, Angel. I dated Willow to get closer to him."
"You sure you're not some pissed-off god taking over Oz's body, like a shell?" Spike asked.
"Shut up!" Oz said.
"He smells like Oz, you idiot," Angel muttered.
"Well, it happened to Fred, it couldn't hurt to ask, you ponce," Spike retorted.
Oz smacked the pointer on LA. "But Angel moved here, and I took the opportunity to check out his new offices. I then found an excuse to break up with Willow and began to watch Angel from afar."
"You sure we didn't get very stoned and are just dreaming this?" Spike asked Angel.
"Not with my luck."
"What I did not count on," Oz continued, "Was Spike's love for Buffy, his willingness to get a soul."
"From what Cordelia told me, you PTB never take love into account," Angel said.
"Well, I'm not perfect you know. If I was, my human form would have been a little taller," Oz grumbled.
"So, what exactly is the point?" Angel growled.
"We're going to play the Shanshu game a little differently," Oz said, smiling a smile of evil. "Despite who you are or what you've done, one is destined to fight for the side of light, the other for dark. You two will fight to the death, and the one who wins, wins the war for their side."
Quickly, the Oz minions, a bunch of monkeys wearing pants, removed their shirts and unchained them. They were both given a stake and an axe.
"I hope this little office has enough room for you two, maybe there's a conference room, a dungeon?" Oz asked, his voice full of French-monkey-pants glee.
"Plenty," Spike said, tilting his head and dropping both weapons. "'Cause I'm not gonna fight this wanker."
"But you must!" Oz exclaimed.
"Angel can kill me if he wants, if he's not as righteous and good as he constantly proclaims. I don't intend to kill my friends."
"I'm your friend?" Angel asked.
"Well, I'm not happy about it! Kill me if you have to, probably the only way I can prove to you I'm good." Spike looked Angel in the eye. "Then run to Buffy, tell her you staked me—see if you're still such wonderful soul mates."
"No, you aren't playing right!" Oz whined.
Angel ignored him. "Ah, Spike, you never learn." He hurled the axe—so it flew inches past Spike's head and hit the wall.
"Bloody hell!" Spike turned his head to see the axe. "Do you always have to be such a bloody drama queen?"
Spike turned his head back, and suddenly Angel was kissing him passionately, his hands gripping Spike's arms.
"Noooooo! You've spoiled my plans!" Oz screamed. Oz and the Oz minions disappeared into smoke so only Spike and Angel were left.
"Aghhhh" Spike and Angel screamed together as they woke from the dream. They screamed again when they saw they were both naked and in bed together.
"I knew we got very stoned!" Spike exclaimed.