They were all still there, waiting for the LA Gang to arrive - abliet now they were all happier, and a little more comfortable. Doyle was sitting in the same chair, however he now had himself his bottle of whisky, courtesy of Giles, who was seated beside him, having joined him in his drinking. Xander and Anya had gone home, neither of them being particularly friendly with the LA Gang, and also to celebrate their engagement. Willow and Tara were curled up together on a rug, arms around each other, whispering softly. But it was the sight of the remaining Slayerettes that made Doyle smile. Buffy was curled up, fast asleep on the only sofa, her head resting on Spike's shoulder. Spike was also asleep, dead to the world, with one arm around Buffy, pulling her closer to him, and another arm around Dawn, to stop her from rolling off him more than anything else. Dawn was fast asleep, laying across Spike and Buffy, her head in Buffy's lap. Doyle couldn't bear to wake any of them, they
deserved to rest for as long as they could.
Doyle yawned widely, causing Giles to offer him the camp bed in the training room. Doyle declined the bed, but went into the back room in search of some blankets and pillows, in an attempt to get a little more comfortable.
While Doyle was in the back room, there was a rather loud banging on the now locked door. Putting down his whisky, Giles sighed as he picked up his keys and went over to unlock the front door.
The LA Gang waited impatiently for the door to be opened, their agencies namesake pacing frantically.
As Giles opened the door, he put a finger to his lips, and said quietly, "Come in, but be quiet, some of them are sleeping."
Angel immediately walked through the door, pushing Giles slightly out of the way, the others following behind him at a slower pace. He did not notice Buffy at first, the sofa mostly hidden from his sight in one corner of the shop. He saw Willow and Tara half-asleep on the rug, the table - still containing the ingredients used from the spell, and was a little surprised to see a more-or-less empty bottle of whisky on the table, and two whisky glasses.
Angel turned back around to ask Giles a few questions, but before he could, Doyle walked into the shop from the back room, arms full of blankets and pillows, and, oblivious to the arrival of the LA Gang, said, in his unmistakable Irish lilt, "Giles, do ye wanna pilla or a blanket?"
Giles - and everyone else who was awake, (including Willow and Tara, who had started to pay attention when the LA Gang had arrived,) turned in the direction of the voice, and all the pillows and blankets fell into a silent heap at Doyle's feet at the sight of the love of his life and his best friend.
Cordelia and Angel turned to each other, and asked simultaneously, "Do you see who I see?"
Gunn butted in at this point, "If you mean the short dark-haired Irish guy, I'd say yeah, we see him."
At that, Angel and Cordelia turned back to face him, and cried, "Doyle?!"
"Yeah, `tis me. An' afore you ask how, could ye quieten down a little, some of 'em are tryin' t' sleep."
Then, from the shadowed corner where Buffy, Spike and Dawn were sleeping, a distinct British accent muttered. "No' any more we ain't."
Then there was a squeal from Dawn as she fell off the sofa.
Then a voice was heard that stopped The LA Gang in their tracks (except of course, for Gunn).
"Shh Dawn!" Buffy whispered.
Angel immediately whipped his head around to face Giles, and said, "Buffy's alive?"
"Yeah, and now very much awake thanks to you and Cordelia here," Buffy said groggily as he walked over to her, oblivious to the fact that she and Spike still had their arms wrapped around each other.
"Yeah Peaches, between fightin' Glory, Dawn nearly dyin', Buffy *really* dyin', `alf-breed appearing, an' resurrectin' Buffy, I think we have a right ta be a little tired," said Spike, sticking his two-penneth in.
Buffy rubbed her eyes, then elbowed Spike not-so-lightly in the ribs, and said, "Spike, be nice."
Then she turned to face Angel and said, "Hi Angel."
Angel just stood there, gaping, his mouth wide open.
"Peaches, I'd shut yer mouth before summat flies into it."
Angel shut his mouth at that, and turned to glare at his wayward grandchilde. "Shut up Spike - and what the HELL are you doing here anyway?!!?!! I'd have thought that you'd have been rejoicing at Buffy's death, not *crying* over it!"
Spike glared at him, and started to pull away from Buffy, fists already clenched, when Buffy pulled him back.
"Spike. Be Good."
All it took was one touch on his arm from Buffy, and her determinedly voiced words, and Spike took a deep, unneeded breath, before putting down his fists and standing back beside Buffy.
deserved to rest for as long as they could.
Doyle yawned widely, causing Giles to offer him the camp bed in the training room. Doyle declined the bed, but went into the back room in search of some blankets and pillows, in an attempt to get a little more comfortable.
While Doyle was in the back room, there was a rather loud banging on the now locked door. Putting down his whisky, Giles sighed as he picked up his keys and went over to unlock the front door.
The LA Gang waited impatiently for the door to be opened, their agencies namesake pacing frantically.
As Giles opened the door, he put a finger to his lips, and said quietly, "Come in, but be quiet, some of them are sleeping."
Angel immediately walked through the door, pushing Giles slightly out of the way, the others following behind him at a slower pace. He did not notice Buffy at first, the sofa mostly hidden from his sight in one corner of the shop. He saw Willow and Tara half-asleep on the rug, the table - still containing the ingredients used from the spell, and was a little surprised to see a more-or-less empty bottle of whisky on the table, and two whisky glasses.
Angel turned back around to ask Giles a few questions, but before he could, Doyle walked into the shop from the back room, arms full of blankets and pillows, and, oblivious to the arrival of the LA Gang, said, in his unmistakable Irish lilt, "Giles, do ye wanna pilla or a blanket?"
Giles - and everyone else who was awake, (including Willow and Tara, who had started to pay attention when the LA Gang had arrived,) turned in the direction of the voice, and all the pillows and blankets fell into a silent heap at Doyle's feet at the sight of the love of his life and his best friend.
Cordelia and Angel turned to each other, and asked simultaneously, "Do you see who I see?"
Gunn butted in at this point, "If you mean the short dark-haired Irish guy, I'd say yeah, we see him."
At that, Angel and Cordelia turned back to face him, and cried, "Doyle?!"
"Yeah, `tis me. An' afore you ask how, could ye quieten down a little, some of 'em are tryin' t' sleep."
Then, from the shadowed corner where Buffy, Spike and Dawn were sleeping, a distinct British accent muttered. "No' any more we ain't."
Then there was a squeal from Dawn as she fell off the sofa.
Then a voice was heard that stopped The LA Gang in their tracks (except of course, for Gunn).
"Shh Dawn!" Buffy whispered.
Angel immediately whipped his head around to face Giles, and said, "Buffy's alive?"
"Yeah, and now very much awake thanks to you and Cordelia here," Buffy said groggily as he walked over to her, oblivious to the fact that she and Spike still had their arms wrapped around each other.
"Yeah Peaches, between fightin' Glory, Dawn nearly dyin', Buffy *really* dyin', `alf-breed appearing, an' resurrectin' Buffy, I think we have a right ta be a little tired," said Spike, sticking his two-penneth in.
Buffy rubbed her eyes, then elbowed Spike not-so-lightly in the ribs, and said, "Spike, be nice."
Then she turned to face Angel and said, "Hi Angel."
Angel just stood there, gaping, his mouth wide open.
"Peaches, I'd shut yer mouth before summat flies into it."
Angel shut his mouth at that, and turned to glare at his wayward grandchilde. "Shut up Spike - and what the HELL are you doing here anyway?!!?!! I'd have thought that you'd have been rejoicing at Buffy's death, not *crying* over it!"
Spike glared at him, and started to pull away from Buffy, fists already clenched, when Buffy pulled him back.
"Spike. Be Good."
All it took was one touch on his arm from Buffy, and her determinedly voiced words, and Spike took a deep, unneeded breath, before putting down his fists and standing back beside Buffy.