He's lying on a ragged mattress in an abandoned building when she finds him. She knows he's here, the tingling in the scar on her neck growing stronger with every step.

"I heard you were having an apocalypse without me," she says from the doorway.

Angel's eyes are still closed, but he smiles at her voice.

"I knew you would come," he says.

Buffy squats down beside him. He's filthy and matted with blood. An ugly wound gapes from his belly.

"Get run over by a semi?" she asks.

Angel grins wolfishly.

"There was a dragon."

Buffy raises an eyebrow.

"Who won?"

Angel laughs, but the laugh turns into a cough and a grimace of pain.

"Well, I'm still alive, so…"

"Barely," says Buffy. She brushes sweat-matted hair off his forehead. "Why didn't you call me? You know I would have come."

"Exactly," says Angel. "Too dangerous. Look what happened to me."

Buffy snorts.

"I'm a big tough slayer. I tie my own shoes and everything."

Angel glances at her ridiculously impractical high heel boots and smiles. He sits up with difficulty, reaching for her.

"You still my girl?" he asks.

Buffy smiles at the familiar words.

"Always," she says.