"There's no place like home, no place like home, no place like. . ."

"Buffy, Buffy, come back to us," a deep voice soothed.

"Giles?" Buffy opened her eyes and grinned from ear to ear. "Giles, it's really you, I'm really home!" She shifted to sit up in bed, her own bed in her own room. "Oh, you wouldn't believe the crazy weird dimension I was in. There were so many funny people, and singing, and Dawn turned into a dog-girl, and I nearly had to fight Glory again. And you were there, and all made of metal!" she cried, noticing her best friend beside her. Willow furrowed her brow in response to this odd news, although inwardly she was glad that she'd had nothing to do with pulling Buffy out of the strange dimension she described. She resumed idly Bedazzling Buffy's pillowcase.

One by one, Buffy turned and remarked upon each of her friends who had gathered around her bedside. "And you, you were a lion, and you, a scarecrow who really wasn't scary at all!" to Xander and Spike. Xander beamed, but Spike's ever expressive face changed from wide-eyed chin-wavering joy at Buffy's return to a resentful scowl at being told he wasn't scary.

"And you!" Buffy chirped, noticing Clem in the corner, nonchalantly munching on Bugles, "You were just you." Clem nodded jovially as Buffy continued speaking so rapidly her friends could barely keep up. "And Tara, you were there, but not very often, and I really wished I'd seen you more because you were way cool, and Giles, you weren't there and that seemed so wrong, I missed you terribly. Anya, for some reason, also wasn't there and that doesn't make any sense, but anyway I learned so much, especially from you, Spike--" she winked, "--so now I know now it's best just to ignore anything that doesn't make sense. And I've learned that sometimes the one thing you really need is conveniently built into your little sister. And sometimes all it takes to solve all your problems is the arrival of someone's ex-boyfriend. And you should be careful what you say in small towns because you never really know what kind of crazy rumors will get started. And most keys can actually be used multiple times. And, and--" Buffy broke off, noticing the stricken expression on Giles's face. "What's wrong?"

"What about Dawn? Buffy, what happened to her?"

"Dawn? Well, first she turned into a great big puppy-girl, then Glory abducted her and rubbed her fur and said 'There's no place like home' to open a vortex to her own dimension. Later I did the same thing and here I am, safe and sound at home. Why? Where is she? I need to start keeping her on a leash if she keeps getting lost like this," Buffy joked.

"You may have to," Giles said, lifting a furry bundle from under his chair and placing the scampering dull brown mass in Buffy's lap. "Recognize this little lady?"

"Dawn?" Buffy inquired, lifting the little terrier pup to stare into its eyes.

"You were holding her in your arms when you came back to us," Giles explained.

"Hey," Xander suggested, immediately adjusting to the situation, "now we can call her Scrappy Doo. You know, because we're the Scooby gang and she's our adorable puppy sidekick. Before it would have just implied that she was useless, and she wouldn't stand for that."

"So Dawn is trapped in the body of a puppy now?" Buffy asked, slightly befuddled.

"Not exactly," Willow replied, breathing deeply as she looked up from her Bedazzling to explain what happened. "See, the incantation you did is designed to return people to their own home dimension. But the Key doesn't belong to this dimension per se. Just the fleshy parts originated here, and came back."

Buffy gaped. "You mean, my flesh and blood that the monks used to create Dawn. So now this puppy is made out of me? That's pretty disturbing."

"Indeed," Giles replied, studiously cleaning his glasses.

**************************

As the evening wore on, Buffy continued to regale the whole gang with the story of her adventures in the Land of Oz. After a short while, though, she jumped up in shock, noting to her dismay that she had come back wrong. Instead of her stylish yet affordable red leather skirt and perhaps slightly overpriced but no less fashionable hot pink chenille tank top, Buffy was clad in a blue and white gingham jumper with a ruffled white dickey. Her hair was in braids. She shrieked and shouted, "What kind of evil fashion nazi would dress me in such an atrocity?!"

A few minutes later when Buffy was suitably attired, the Scoobies reconvened in the dining room to hear the rest of the tale, Scrappy Doo under the table yelping and whining for attention all the while. Everyone laughed and scoffed at the idea of a straw man who wanted a cock, a tin man addicted to oil, and a lion who just kept getting puffier and puffier even while he was afraid to pursue the one thing he knew he wanted. And they were all surprised to learn of what had become of their old friend Oz. "Who woulda thunk it?" Willow mused, "Oz and I used to be so in love, and we're both gay now!" She caressed Tara's breasts to prove her point, even though the two had broken up months before.

As the hour grew later and the supply of little marshmallows for the hot chocolate grew short, the crowd began to disperse. Giles, Xander, Tara, and Clem returned to their respective homes, and Willow retreated, yawning, to her cushy rent-free master bedroom suite upstairs.

Only Spike and Buffy remained, standing awkwardly on the front porch where they had just seen off the others. (Scrappy Doo had much earlier curled up to sleep in Dawn's old room as if very little had changed.)

"Well, pet," Spike said, "looks like it's just us."

"There is no 'us,'" Buffy retorted unconvincingly.

"Yeah," Spike stepped closer so they stood mere inches apart, both breathing heavily. "That's why you've been shaggin' me in effigy all day, or very nearly so. Bet you've been missin' my cock," he said, reaching for her hand and pulling it toward him.

"Oh, you're cocky, all right," she quipped. "Remember what Oz said? Only porn stars have cocks."

Spike quirked his eyebrow and chuckled faintly. "Well, love, there was that one time in the seventies. . . ."


Someone out on her front porch ditched her cross,
A vampire's back she's a-scratchin',
And using his tongue to floss.
Someone up in her bedroom is
Now a pet.
And the Watcher who we all love
Hasn't dared leave yet.
Someday we'll tune into the show
And find ill-thought-out plots are nowhere near us.
No more scenes at the Doublemeat,
Some happiness instead we'll greet,
Sweet Xan will cheer us.
Somewhere in California,
Marti's boss.
I wrote a fun little story,
Why, then - oh, why won't Joss?
If I can write these characters
A happy ending,
Why, oh, why won't Joss?