No one knew exactly when it happened, but one moment The Beast was terrorizing Los Angeles, fire was raining from the skies and Wolfram & Hart was full of zombies, and the next...
The earthquake hit first, then the tidal wave crashing over the ruins of the City of Angels washed away most of the survivors. Across the world other disasters occurred, but the focal point was Southern California.
Once the tremors stopped and the few thousands left alive in L.A. as the tide washed out began to hope it was over, a shadow crossed the sun, placing the world in perpetual gloom. Chaos reigned and governments fell. People murdered and hoarded and enslaved each other.
It took two days.
Wesley stood atop the Hyperion, which had miraculously survived, shotgun over one shoulder, large cross around his neck, and watched the fires burning across the city. Lifting a bottle to his lips, he tilted his head back and drank deeply of the soothing whisky, then he set it down on the wall and waited.
He knew she was there before he heard the sound of a high heel clicking on the tar paper and gravel roof top. "I knew you'd survive."
"It's what I do best," came the answer, the female voice dripping sex and sophistication. "The rest of the merry men around?"
"They're doing what they can."
"And you're what? Guarding the roof?"
"Waiting." He turned and gave Lilah an enigmatic look. "For you."
"You were so sure I'd seek you out?" she scoffed, fiddling with the shell collar of her navy linen suit.
"You're here, aren't you?"
Lilah straightened her back and stepped closer to him, her observant eyes noting the fatigue in his. "I've come to pay my debt. I don't like owing anyone."
"You don't owe me anything, Lilah."
"You saved my life the other day, saved me from The Beast and from becoming a zombie."
"And what will you save me from?" Wesley's voice implied that he didn't care, but she could see he did.
"We've already won, you know. This was the opportunity the Senior Partners were waiting for. Just enough chaos and a big dumb demon wreaking havoc on Angel and his pals to distract everyone long enough for them to step in and take over."
He nodded slowly, digesting her words. "I knew The Beast wasn't powerful enough to cause all this."
"Nope, but we are. Add in The First Evil tearing open the Hellmouth..." At Wesley's startled cry, she stopped, surprised. "You didn't know?"
"No. We've had no news from anywhere. L.A. is cut off, obviously." He glanced quickly over his shoulder as if he could see the demons he knew must be cutting swathes of destruction across the land. "Buffy?"
Lilah shrugged, watching him carefully. He was carrying a gun, after all. "We believe she and her group got out and are on the run. There's been no activation of a new Slayer."
"There wouldn't be," he murmured, his mind frantically turning over the possibilities. "Buffy is a genetic dead end. The Slayer line carries through Faith, who also must be alive."
"We know the prison was leveled, but her body wasn't found. My bosses searched," she added. "Having the Slayers dead would be a bonus, but they're not worried about them."
Wesley's lips quirked. "They should be, especially if Buffy and Faith team up."
"We have everything under control."
This time he snorted, but didn't say anything, just turned back to look out over the ruined city.
"Wes...come with me," Lilah beckoned softly. "You're exhausted, probably cold and hungry and all that. Let me take care of you."
"And pay your debt?"
"Because I want to. If you keep fighting..." She sighed sadly. "Wes, I don't want you to die. Twisted it might be, but we do have a relationship. You do care for me."
"A cold and broken relationship."
"I said it was twisted," she replied, her voice hard. "But if you keep fighting, you're going to end up very dead very quickly. I'm offering you a way out."
"I've already betrayed my friends once."
"Yeah, and look how well they forgave that. Who gives a fuck about them?"
"Oh, Lilah, you never understood me."
Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she stomped over to him and spun him around, sending the gun clattering to the roof top. "Stop being a stupid prick, Wesley. There's no way the white knights are going pull out a victory. The apocalypse is nigh and all that shit and the Senior Partners are going to win. They have won. It's just a matter of the world accepting that. Do you realize how fast everything crumbled? How tenuous civilization and government actually were? Two days and the President's been shot through the head and martial law's been declared in a hundred cities across this country. The peasants are revolting in China. The Communist coup in Russia is on its way to taking back that country. The Queen of England's in hiding while Charlie Boy and Camilla have been skinned alive and hung from the gates of Buckingham Palace. We've won," she stressed again, shaking him slightly.
Wesley carefully and slowly peeled her fingers from his arms and stepped away from her. "Heroes don't stop fighting just because the cause is lost."
"You're not a fucking hero," she yelled, her cry of anger punctuated by a bolt of lightning obliterating the building across the street, making both of them jump. "We need to get off this roof, get to safety."
"There is no safety, Lilah."
"There is with me. You're not a hero," she reiterated. "Not anymore. You're a pragmatist and a survivor. There's no hope in fighting us, Wesley. You'll all die, and you're so called friends aren't going to welcome you eagerly back to die with them. They tolerate you because you're a talented fighter." She ended her speech on a sneer and brushed past him. "I'm not going to beg, lover. My limo is downstairs. I'll wait fifteen minutes. The chaos and devastation will eventually slow down if not cease all together. New societies and governments will rise. There will be survivors, for the Senior Partners know that if they wipe out all humans, they'll have no one to rule. You can have a place in that, Wesley, at my side."
Lilah turned back to look at him, saw he was watching her, and smiled sadly. "Or you can die, forgotten, just one more fallen soldier in a war that's already been lost." Turning back, she opened the door to the hotel and disappeared into the darkness.
Wesley watched her go, then stooped and picked up his gun, reshouldering it. He reached for the bottle, took another deep drink, and let his tired eyes close. He heard screams, the screech of tires, the loud crashes of stone and mortar falling. He smelled fire and dust and blood. His mind ran over every possibility, weighing the various consequences, weighting her words. Sorrow filled him and he let the bottle drop, listening to it smash on the roof.
In the white stretch limo, pristine on the exterior and smelling of lilacs on the interior, Lilah popped the bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. When the door opened and Wesley slid onto the seat beside her, she handed him one.
"Ruling the world alone would be so boring."
He nodded in silent acknowledgment and sipped the wine. "I fear so would be death."
"I knew you'd come."
Wesley narrowed his eyes and stared at her until she squirmed, then he smiled, that nasty little smile he'd developed over the months of their relationship. "I'm not that predictable, Lilah. You'll see."
She cocked her brows and took another sip from her glass. "What? You plan to fight the good fight from the belly of the beast?"
He didn't respond, simply grabbed her wrist and dragged her across his lap. The glasses toppled from their hands as they embraced, kissing hungrily, and the limo pulled away from the curb, heading to the one totally untouched building in the whole city and what was left of the future.
End
A/N 2: I debated ending it with Wes not showing up. Anyone who would have preferred a darker ending?