"Hey, are you guys ok? Were you in an accident, or something?" A young
blonde guy came running up to them. "My car isn't far, I can take you
guys to the hospital."
Buffy ran through her options, which admittedly weren't many. "Sure,
that would be great," she said, "but we're not going to the hospital."
With the young man's help, they carried Willow to his car, a
late-model, black Range Rover. After settling Willow in the back,
they jumped in.
"Ok, where are we going, then?" He asked, starting the car's engine.
"I'll just give you directions." Buffy glanced at the young man, and
realized how brusque she sounded. "Thanks...thanks for your help. My
name's Buffy. Buffy Summers."
"Chris Maxwell," the young man replied, and pulled his car out of the
lot, onto the street.