"Boo."

If anyone else had made it, it would be Spike. "Anyone else?"

Spike shook his head. "Not so far. You feel the heat?"

He felt it, and it was close. "It's coming."

Here he was, apocalypse number whatever, and it looked like it was really the end this time. Well, hopefully third death wasn't the charm. "Finally got ourselves a decent brawl."

They weren't alone for long. Gunn came running down the street toward them, carrying his homemade battle-axe. "Damn! How did I know the fang boys would pull through? You're lucky we're on the same side, dogs, 'cause I was on fire tonight. My game was tight."

His steps faltered and he almost collapsed, but Angel and Spike caught him and dragged him over to a box. Spike took a look at Gunn's wounds. "You're supposed to wear the red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy."

Gunn looked down at his wounds as if the whole situation was then fault. "Any word on Wes?"

Illyria, at that moment, jumped down from the chain-link fence to stand. "Wesley's dead." Their human expressions of grief only served to further her confusion. "I'm feeling grief for him. I can't seem to control it. I wish to do more violence."

Spike could hear the demon horde getting closer. "Well, wishes just happen to be horses today."

"Among other things." Angel looked at the approaching horde. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of demons of all sorts, shapes and sizes. A huge winged dragon flew toward them overhead.

Gunn gave a mental shrug. This was it, apparently. "OK. You take the 30,000 on the left..."

The human would be lucky if he could defeat his own wounds. "You're fading. You'll last 10 minutes at best."

Gunn got to his feet. "Then let's make 'em memorable."

Angel stepped forward and Spike, Gunn and Illyria followed. They stared at the horde of demons approaching them in the alley. Spike had to ask. "In terms of a plan?"

"We fight."

Wonderful plan, very Angel. Spike clarified. "Bit more specific."

"Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon." Angel hefted his ax and there was a look of suicidal glee in his eyes.

Spike looked at their motley crew. The lawyer barely alive, the demon in shock. "Yeah, sure Peaches. Us and what army?"

"How about this army?"

Spike turned around slowly, sure he'd finally snapped. He'd gotten involved in one apocalypse too many and the thin thread of his sanity had worn through. There was no way... "Buffy?"

"The Immortal sends his love. And assorted weaponry." And it was her, really her, the object of their mutual affections, their ray of sunshine.

"Buffy."

The Slayer was really here, right in front of them, holding the biggest bastard sword Spike had ever seen. She looked over her shoulder and whistled. "Ladies, let's rock and roll!" From the shadows at her back came five, then ten of the young Slayers the Scoobies had spent the past year collecting and training. They were all heavily armed and walked past the LA crew without a word. Buffy watched them go, then turned her attention back to Spike. She touched his face almost like she was afraid he would disappear. "Spike." She kissed him long and deep, like she'd actually missed him, then stepped back and slapped him with the force only a Slayer could muster. "You bastard! You couldn't call, send a postcard? I had to hear you were alive from Andrew!"

"I'm-"

"Don't even say it." She shook her head in disgust then turned to the rest of them. "You're missing people. Where's Wesley? And the green guy... Lorne?"

"Wes is dead." Angel couldn't believe she was here. "How many did you bring?"

"I'm a little concerned not enough, actually. I have another thirty spread out all over the city. I figured if this isn't the actual End, any apocalypse is good practice." Buffy spared a glance for Gunn and Illyria. "You guys don't look so hot. Willow's on her way. She's got some neat tricks fix you right up. Well, let's go, boys! We've got an apocalypse to avert."

Angel opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "One more apocalypse, for old times sake?"

"One more." Buffy smiled, then kissed Angel, no less passionately than she had Spike. "Talk later, slay now."

Angel and Spike had a wordless conversation in which they decided they could fight over her later. Spike answered her. "We can do that." They followed her into the fray and for the first time thought maybe, just maybe, they might live through this.