"I'd say there's been some big bad action going on around here," Buffy muttered sullenly. But her mood paled in comparison to the horror of what surrounded them. Bodies lined the streets of downtown Los Angeles -- barely recognizable amidst the charred remains of the once thriving buildings and businesses. The sky was light with a hazy red glow, signaling that somewhere there was a very large fire.

Otherwise, the city was deserted. Or so it seemed.

Anger boiled up inside of the twenty-five year old Slayer. She wasn't the only of her kind anymore, not counting Faith. Her generation had come and gone, but Buffy was still active in the demon-fighting community. And this infuriated her on so many levels. Why hadn't the new Slayer been called here sooner?

Why hadn't he relinquished that damnable pride and guilt and asked for help?

But she knew the answer to that. Or, she sort of knew...

"Tell me what Wesley said, exactly," Giles demanded from the passenger seat. Willow and Xander -- First Lieutenant Alexander Harris, USMC, to be precise -- were in the back, insisting on joining Buffy after they heard from Wesley.

"I don't remember," Buffy said, her frustration growing. Where was *anyone*? How were they supposed to fight, to help, when there was *no one*? "He just kept muttering about Shanshu -- or Sun Tzu? I could barely hear him before the line went dead!"

"Shanshu, Shanshu..." Giles mumbled repeatedly, his attention focusing on something inside. Where did he know that?

"Look!" Willow yelled from the back-seat. "I think I see something up there!"

Buffy's gaze was alert and caught on the flickering light, a beacon to the group. A shadowy figure could just be made out, and he -- or she -- was using a piece of metal to reflect the car's headlights and call attention. Slowing down, her eyes widened as she neared the person.

"Cordelia!"

In a whisper on the wind
On the smile of a new friend
Just think of me
And I'll be there

"...evacuated and set up in this large underground facility the government's been running for years. Can you believe? Like they've been waiting for something like this. Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

The group was immensely relieved to know that the crispy forms on the sides of the road weren't human. And after the Initiative incident years ago, they would believe anything of the government. Even Xander, who had joined their ranks.

"Where are Wesley and Angel?" Buffy asked, not ashamed in her single-mindedness. This was the closest to a true apocalypse as she'd seen and she did *not* like not knowing where the troops were. Where *her* troops were. Where her *friends* were.

"I...I don't know," Cordelia said, sounding as scared and insecure as Buffy and the others felt. "Wesley used a payphone to call you, but the lines got screwed up when there was an explosion across the street. We ran back here and he told me to stay and wait for you to come. Let me tell you, it hasn't been the best forty-eight hours in my life. And when this is all done, I'm going on a very long all-expenses paid vacation and no one is telling me 'no'."

Buffy made eye contact with Willow through the rearview mirror and they shared a brief grin. Leave it to Cordelia to lighten the mood by complaining.

"So he didn't tell you where he was going? Didn't tell you where Angel was?"

"He said he'd come back for me. And Angel...Angel went to go stop this. He went to fight the heart of the legion."

Buffy felt her breath catch and her heart constrict with fear and worry. "And where would he go to do that, Cordelia?" she asked slowly.

Cordelia blinked, looking up quietly. "It's over," she replied, her voice hushed as she finally surveyed the destruction that surrounded them. "Don't you see? You're too late. It's over."

"I think she's going into shock," Xander told them as Cordelia fell limp against him, her body cold and clammy and trembling.

On the edge of a waking dream
Over rivers
Over streams
Through wind and rain
I'll be there

"What does she mean it's over?" Buffy growled as she pulled up to the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, which was serving as a shelter. Pulling the unconscious girl from the car, the group made their way through rows of injured, to where a nurse pointed them to an empty cot.

"This should never have happened," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes as she looked around at all the nameless victims of something she might have been able to avert.

If he'd only asked...

But there had been too many harsh words, too many emotional partings, too many unfulfilled promises and dreams between them. This was his city, his domain, and he handled it. Just as she did Sunnydale. And they were both loathe to ask for help. Look what it got them. They'd let their feelings get in the way of the greater good of humanity.

"Mr. Giles." The words were groggy, but strong, and the group spun around in synchronization and surprise.

"Wesley!" Giles exclaimed, eyeing the younger man who was nursing a broken arm.

Waving away the offer of help, Wesley stood, his gaze falling on Cordelia's prone form. "Is she...?"

"Just in shock," Buffy assured him. "She'll be fine. What about you? What happened? Where's -"

"Slow down, Buffy," Willow said, pulling her friend back a bit. There was obviously a connection between the younger ex-Watcher and the cheerleader they'd once known. Xander raised his brows, but said nothing. Whatever it was, there was a bond between the people who had been thrown together so awkwardly years before.

Buffy watched as Wesley leaned over Cordy, touching her cheek lightly with his uninjured hand -- as if he had to prove to himself that she was alive and okay. That same gut-wrenching feeling twisted inside of her, a mixture of worry, impatience and envy. It had been a long time since anyone had regarded her with *that* tenderness in their eyes.

And she just couldn't shake the sense of foreboding.

Across the wide of an open sky
Thousands of miles I'd fly
To be with you
I'll be there

It was two in the morning, and the gang was huddled together on the pavement near Cordelia's cot. She'd woken hours ago, but the doctor said she needed her rest after her prolonged exposure to the elements.

"Shanshu. That's it. I'd almost forgotten. But you're saying it foretells his death...?"

"No, though that's precisely what I thought in the beginning, also. If you think back to its Proto-Bantu roots, however, life and death are part of the same cycle - "

"And what is not alive can never die," Giles said, he and Wesley conversing in low tones away from the others. But that didn't stop Buffy from eavesdropping with half of her attention.

"You're saying Angel is okay, aren't you?" she piped up, startling the older men.

"Well, the prophecy - "

"But this 'Shanshu' means death?"

"It means - "

Buffy stopped listening. Something was wrong. Dead wrong. No, no, she couldn't think that word. Angel had to be okay. Los Angeles was a large city, overpopulated to boot, but... Why hadn't he shown himself? She'd never tested the strength of their connection before, but she did now. And she could feel him, she *knew*...or was she just deluding herself with wishful thinking? It didn't feel the same. But it felt. He needed her. Needed her desperately. Buffy knew it without a doubt. Couldn't he feel her too?

On the breath of a wind that sighs
Oh, there's no need to cry
Just think of me
And I'll be there

"He's not here!"

She'd searched from top to bottom of Cordelia's apartment for any sign of Angel or where he might be, but there was nothing. Buffy had felt compelled to come to this place, but she didn't know why. It was as if something had called her there...but for what?

"Buffster, he'll show up when he can. You know how Angel is. Mr. Stealth Guy."

"It's more than that, Xander!"

Willow and Xander frowned at each other. There had been a marked change in Buffy since they'd arrived in L.A. There was a wildness in her eyes that they hadn't seen before, and if they couldn't feel what she felt, they saw it in her demeanor.

"Why don't you lie down and rest for a while, Buffy?" Willow suggested. "After a nap, you'll feel rejuvenated."

"No."

There was a brief knock on the door before it swung open, and Buffy grabbed the intruder by the neck and slammed him against the wall.

"Hey, lady! I'm just the messenger!" The demon stared at her, obviously frightened out of his wits, but Buffy was oblivious.

"Who sent you? Where's Angel? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't snap your neck right now."

"Buff - Buffy! I think you should have a look at this," Willow said as she picked up the dropped parcel. Xander stepped forward and pried Buffy's hands from around the demon, who immediately fled before he could be questioned further.

Shaking herself, Buffy tried to gain her composure. She was spiraling out of control, she knew. But...she just needed to know. Needed to know what she was feeling.

Accepting the package, she looked at it. It was a shiny white box, the kind you got from fine department stores, with a pretty gold ribbon wrapped around it and a small gold gift card attached to the top. Flipping it open with her fingertips, Buffy arched a brow.

"What is it?" Willow asked.

"It says, ''Set me free.'"

"Oooh, that's cryptic. Just when you thought the fun was over..."

Buffy rolled her eyes and moved out to Cordelia's balcony that overlooked the beach. Glancing at her friends, she took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

Slowly, delicately, she began to unwrap the box, the first rays of the rising sun glinting off of the gold and dulling the red glow in the sky. Removing the top, she spread the tissue paper and stared down, confused. Moments seemed to pass like lifetimes as she looked down, unseeing, knowing and not knowing. She was vaguely aware of her friends' concerned questions as the tears coursed down her face. A small twinkle in the box caught her eye, and slender fingers sifted through the contents, closing around her treasure.

A soft breeze blew around them, through the box, carrying the tiny dust and ash particles up in swirls that seemed to surround her and cling to the wet trails on her cheeks, as her fist tightened around the silver ring in her hand.

She didn't even realize the soft, keening wail was coming from herself until she collapsed backwards...

Don't be afraid
Oh, my love
I'll be watching you from above
But I'd give all the world tonight to be with you
'Cause I'm on your side
And I still care
I may have died but I've gone nowhere
Just think of me
And I'll be there

...and into those strong arms. Nothing mattered anymore. God, she was dying inside. There had been times when the loneliness was unbearable, when knowing that he was only miles away seemed to spear her heart. But to think...to know...that he would never be there, never be around, that there would never be the possibility of seeing his face, hearing his voice, touching his hand...

She wanted to die. Wanted the pain to consume her.

She never even had the chance to tell him she loved him. Had he known? She'd give anything to tell him one last time.

Unaware of the arms that held her so securely, of the lips that nuzzled her temple with soothing caresses, she mumbled these things intelligibly while Willow and Xander stared on in similar shock.

"Shhhh, Buffy, Buffy..." The tears that paved their way down his own cheeks were those of unadulterated joy. To feel her in his arms, under the burgeoning sunlight, brought back memories of a time that never existed...and hopes for times yet to come. "Buffy," he whispered, her name his mantra.

That voice broke through her haze of pain and she blinked, not believing. She really was sinking into dementia. She was going off the deep end and she shut her eyes tight, not wanting to see the hallucinations of her weak mind. To see them would be to give in to them...and blissfully so. "You're dead," she murmured mournfully.

There was silence, save for the soft beating of his heart beneath her ear. Memories, or dreams, as vague as that tenuous breeze wafted through her mind.

"Yes. I am. That part of me is dead. Forever, Buffy. But this I offer you now, mere flesh and blood and a heart that beats only because my love for you has willed it so. If you will have me...please...Buffy." Angel held his breath -- breath that he actually needed -- as he awaited her answer. The staging had not been a cruel joke on his part, but a symbolic offering to her. His demon was dead, gone, vanishing on the whisper of a breeze. And what remained? His love for her. Always there, urging him on, demanding he be a better man for this golden girl who had captured him from the moment he first saw her.

If she wished to grasp hold of it.

Buffy swallowed hard and blinked slowly, her gaze resting on her friends who stood across from her. The tears in Willow's eyes, the grudging respect in Xander's, told her everything she needed to know. Her hands fumbled to find his own, and with a force that would have hurt him if he'd been focusing on anything but the hope inside of himself, she shoved the ring back onto his finger, heart pointed in. "Don't you ever take that off again. And I'm going to kill you for what you just put me through," Buffy told him quietly as she finally turned, her eyes drinking in the sight of his beautiful face. "As soon as I finish kissing you," she said with a strangled sob, her arms flying around his neck and pulling him close. "I love you, Angel. I love you forever. And don't you ever forget it."

Angel held her tight against him, feeling complete and utter happiness flow throughout him at her words. "And I love you. I'd spend lifetimes proving it, if I had to."

Just think of me
I'll be there

The End

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