The sun set over the city of death. Rays of dying light reached over the buildings, illuminating them for a few seconds, then rendering them silhouettes against the backdrop of Los Angeles.
Slowly, solemnly, Buffy Summers walked through the wreckage, stepping over dead bodies, dead demons, ashes. She looked around her and all she saw was blackness.
Upon further investigating, she heard noises coming from a building that was still standing. She entered.
Angel was there, tending to a wounded man and giving instructions to a blue-haired girl, presumably demon.
Sensing her behind him, Angel turned around to meet her. Without a word, Buffy went over to embrace him.
They broke apart, looking at each other for the first time in a year. "What are you doing here?" Angel asked.
"I came to visit Willow. Stopped by in L.A. to say hello. I wasn't expecting…death carnage."
"Apocalypse."
"I figured. Although," she added, "I kinda wish somebody filled me in on what was going on here. I would've liked to help."
Angel shook his head. "Willow had it under control."
She looked over at Gunn, lying on a beaten couch, bleeding. "You should get him to a hospital."
"We will."
"Okay," she sighed. "Is there anything I can do?"
Angel smiled. "We need all the help we can get."
Buffy nodded, determined to do her part. Too long has she shirked the responsibility of her duties as Slayer. She hesitated. "Actually, I should probably get in contact with Willow. She sounded kind of urgent last time I called."
"No problem," Angel said. "Go see Willow first. We'll be fine."
"Okay." Buffy touched his shoulder gently, knowing that he has suffered casualties in this battle, then turned to walk out of the building. And ran smack into the last person she expected to see.
"Spike?" Buffy's face mirrored his own in disbelief and shock.
"Bloody hell," was all Spike managed to say.
It was a dream. It had to be. He had felt her presence as he approached the building, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise. But it was too unlikely. It was impossible. That his girl could be there, in the same city, breathing the same air he was. And yet there she was, not two feet away, the girl of his dreams. The same loving, intense hazel eyes. The same soft, rosy lips. The same golden hair…the dark city made her hair seem to glow.
Snap out if it, you ponce, Spike thought to himself. And say something.
"Want a smoke?"