He Doesn't Know Her
By maybedarkpink

Flash of aqua hair slipping between the crowd, and she is drawn forward as if by magnetic pull, following her spiked beacon. She jostles elbows, pokes ribs, draws glares and yelps of pain. But she is not to be distracted. She won't let him get away.

He's only a few feet ahead of her now. "Oz!" she shouts. He slows, stops, turns. Dawn rushes towards him, waits for the recognition to cross his face. His eyes are open, questing.

He doesn't know her.

Of course. Why should he? She is only manufactured memories, manipulated energy.

Then he smiles, and it's the proverbial sun emerging from behind the cover of clouds, the muscular equivalent of a cat's welcoming purr. "Dawn! You look so grown up! I almost didn't recognize you."

Tear-splash as she hugs him. He kisses her cheek. "I hear it's been a rough year," he says simply. She grips him tighter and for a second she's not Dawn Summers, she's not the former Key. He's not Willow's ex-boyfriend, not an older crush from before she properly existed, just a handsome guy who's shorter than she is and the world seems ripe with possibility.