Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story, and make no money from writing fanfiction.
Author's Note: Inspired by the Shadowlands shared universe concept, although the explanation for the trouble is different. (Or maybe not *g*.)
Giles had come to accept that one met odd people in hell. He had seen all sorts of things since the world collapsed piece by piece into the portal Glory opened and he lost all that were left of those he knew and trusted. He had met what appeared to be two copies of the same man, one older than the other, both wearing red sunglasses and outlandish costumes. A man made of metal with hooves instead of feet. Something appalling with teeth where its eyes should have been. What he hadn't expected to meet, although it was no more inherently improbable, was another English vampire hunter.
The thousand new dangers that he had been exposed to had not swept the old ones away entirely, and to his black amusement it was one of the foes he had been fighting since his youth that almost killed him at last. The demon had him cornered in an abandoned building, leaning in for the kill, when he heard the shot and watched in disbelief as the creature crumbled to dust. It took him a moment to realise that there had been a connection between the two.
"You're lucky," his rescuer, a man he judged to be roughly his own age, said. "If it had bitten you –"
"I know how to deal with vampires," Giles said. He realized that he'd spoken sharply. "Thank you for the assistance – it's just that I was surprised. Where I come from, we did things in a more traditional fashion." With a pang of loss, he thought of some of the ways Buffy had dispatched her quarries over the years. Still, the statement was broadly true.
"The bullets are made of reinforced carbon," the other man said. Then he smiled, wryly. "Or they were, since that was the last of them. I'll have to resort to stakes as well." He still tucked the gun back into the holster under his jacket anyway. He didn't seem surprised that Giles new about vampires, but perhaps his whole dimension was full of them.
"I don't think any gun would work on the ones from my - reality." Although the way things were now, who could say for certain?
"A fortunate coincidence. I'm not certain it was one of ours - those explode when neutralised. Incidentally, I'm Pearse Harman. You could say that I was a ... vampire hunter, in a former life."
Giles shook the hand he was offered. "Rupert Giles – and likewise."
"Shall we go, then? In my experience, where there's one, there are usually others."
"You mean together? Why?" Offers of help or companionship had become rare since the world ended.
"You're a fellow countryman – apparently in more ways than one. Besides, now you owe me a favour."
For all Giles knows, this man could be a demon or a vampire himself, planning to eat him or put him to some other purpose. It was impossible to tell, with the sky above an improbable shade of purple. Still, he'd been convinced he was about to die five minutes ago. What did he have to lose?
He nodded. "Very well, then. I'll try to find my thermos."
Ten minutes after that, they were drinking lukewarm tea together in what seemed to have been a bowling alley before Armageddon. Giles reflected that it was probably an improvement over being drained by vampires, whatever their origins.
The End