Apocalypse: Sunnydale
by Ducks
Legal Horse Hooey [Disclaimer]: I don't get anything from this but jollies. They're not mine.
Rating: R, for some adult themes and bad language.
Dedication: To Pia, for making me think hard about this, and for Anja, who gave me just the exact finishing touches I was looking for.
Notes: The timeline might feel a little hard to follow... it speeds up and slows down a lot. Just bear with. Any important time changes are pointed out in the story.
Epilogue
Underground Sunnydale, September, 2018
Rhea squealed happily as Angel hitched her higher up on his back and started to run up the hill.
Willow and Buffy strolled a little behind, enjoying the warm autumn afternoon. Willow carried a picnic basket, and Buffy pulled up a long stalk of grass to chew on. She watched Angel and her daughter playing in the distance.
"He's so good with her," she observed aloud.
Willow nodded. "She's daddy's little girl..." she said.
Buffy felt that tiny pang again, of jealousy and regret for the years she had lost with her children, and her friends... and Angel. But she easily shook off the melancholy. There was no need to think of it, now. Things were falling into a perfectly easy place... a comfortable, warm place that she had never even imagined was possible.
"Yeah..." she said wistfully.
"Ooh, Daddy, a butterfly!" Rhea cried, "Down! Down!"
Angel complied, and the little girl sped off across the meadow in hot pursuit. He watched her go, and then turned to see the two women coming up the hill behind him. He smiled, feeling a wave of joy flow through him. He walked to them, took the basket from Willow, kissed her warmly on the cheek, then gave a softer, deeper kiss to Buffy's lips. The pair moved in to flank him, and he put an arm around both.
"There's nothing I like better than an afternoon picnic with my three favorite girls..." he said lightly, and gave both a squeeze.
Willow and Buffy both rolled their eyes.
"Women. Two of us are women," Willow corrected him.
He grinned and shrugged, "Females."
"Makes us sound like dogs," Buffy added.
He turned and lay a mock-withering look on her, but his smile didn't fade, "No, then you would be bitches, wouldn't you?"
They laughed.
Arm in arm, the threesome walked up the hill to their favorite glade, as the artificial sun glowed gold and warm on them. Willow began relaying an amusing story about a particularly surly demon who had come to see her in the clinic, and Buffy and Angel laughed, stealing loving glances and private smiles at one another from time to time.
The air was becoming crisp and cool, and the harvest was swiftly approaching. Soon, it would be winter in Sunnydale once again. But they had no doubt that this would be the warmest one that any of them could remember.
The End
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