A/N: I know there's a lot of stuff in this chapter that I could have changed and didn't, and if you're a little confused as to why, the answer is that I probably just thought it was terribly funny. ;) enjoy! Oh, and one of the lines is from Teaching Mrs. Tingle. Don't sue me.

Chapter 8: Tabula Rasa
Andie and April were pressed spy-style against the wall, peering around the corner as Willow held the crystal to the fire for a moment. They looked comical, if completely ridiculous.

"When the fire goes out, when the crystal turns black, the spell will be cast. Tabula rasa, tabula rasa, tabula rasa."

Then she stuffed the crystal back into her pocket and ran out of the house.

"So what do we do now?" April asked her friend. "The episode's started."

"We should just hide out here in the house until it's over. We wouldn't want to mess up the future." She looked completely serious, but her hazel eyes took on a mischievous glint.

"Even though we've probably royally screwed up the plot already. It could cause many unnatural things to happen," agreed April. It was very difficult to ignore the gleam in Andrea's eyes as she answered.

"Most importantly, it would be wrong."

* * *

Andrea clapped her hands together, rubbing them playfully as she and April looked around the Magic Box at the collapsed forms of the Scoobies scattered throughout the shop.

"Where to start, where to start?"

"We're bad, bad girls," April scolded, smirking.

"Oh, totally. C'mere, I can't lift Spike on my own."

They stepped over Buffy's limp body and moved to the display case Spike had fallen asleep on.

"How long until they wake up?" Andie asked as she grabbed hold of the completely unstylish tweed suit jacket Spike had worn in 'Restless' and yanked viciously. They were unable to stifle snorts of laughter when he toppled off the case, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

"We have until past sundown. Probably about twenty minutes to a half hour," April assured, wiping tears of amusement from her eyes as they dragged Spike over to Buffy's body. They carefully arranged Buffy and Spike into a nice, cuddly position, dusting off their pants in satisfaction when they were done. "Oh, oh wait." April moved quickly to Anya and pulled off her engagement ring, tossing it to Andie.

"We're gunna burn in hell for this," she predicted, slipping the diamond ring on Buffy's ring finger.

"It'll be a party."

Finished with Buffy and Spike, they took Anya off Giles' lap and replaced her with Xander.

"Should we do anything else?"

"I dunno. Maybe we've done enough damage as it is."

Buffy stirred and Andie winced.

"Quick, hide." They hadn't realized twenty minutes had gone by so fast. April was shoved into the training room in the back before she could say 'Randy and Joan.'

The Scoobies began to wake one by one. Willow blinked her eyes open, yelping slightly when she noticed the strange woman she was snuggled up against. Her screech startled Anya awake, who forced a casual smile when she noticed the red head.

"Hey."

"Uh, hey?"

Tara stretched in a manner much like that of a feline, blushing profusely when she noticed other people were around her. Giles and Xander looked at each other with confusion.

"Hello," Giles greeted. Xander jumped up off Giles' lap, screaming in a very unmacho way.

Spike rolled a little and toppled down the steps of the Magic Box, yelling in pain at his rude awakening. His yell woke Dawn. At that time, everyone was now awake. Dawn was terrified.

"Who. . .Who are you guys?" Dawn asked timidly, pushing her hair away from her face. Buffy reached out to her, but she shrunk away.

"It's alright. I'm. . ." She frowned. "Uh. . . I'm . . ."

"Who are you, strange woman who seems to enjoy cuddling other women?" Anya asked Willow, who frowned.

"You don't know me? But you were just all like 'Hey'." Anya shrugged. "Well, I'm . . Not sure who I am . . .exactly. . ."

"Why was I on you're lap? Who are you? Is this some kind of psych test? Am I getting paid for this?" Xander was very paranoid.

"Does anyone remember anything?" Giles asked, ignoring Xander's ranting. They all shook their heads.

"It's okay. I think we're safe. None of us looks all hatchet murder-y, so we should be safe here. Wherever here is . . ." Everyone finally took a moment to look around.

"It looks like a Magic Shop. Look at these jars. . .and. . .and books," Tara said.

"Magic," Giles scoffed. "Magic is all balderdash and chicanery. I'm afraid we don't know a bloody thing. Except I seem to be British, don't I? And a man. With glasses. Well, that narrows it down considerably."

"I'm scared." Dawn seemed to be holding back tears. Buffy put her arm comfortingly around Dawn's shoulders.

"It's okay. We'll take care of each other, all right?" Dawn nodded jerkily.

"Yes, we'll get back our memories and everything will be right as rain," Giles assured them.

"Oh listen to Mary Poppins! Got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so -- Bloody hell." He ticked off his fingers one by one. Sodding . . . blimy. . . shagging . . . knickers . . .bullocks -- oh no." He took on a horrified look. "I'm English." Giles sighed.

"Welcome to the nancy tribe." Spike's gaze traveled over Giles, a disgusted look on his face.

"You don't suppose. . .You and I . . . We're not related, are we?"

"There is a ruggedly handsome resemblance," Xander conceded.

"And you do inspire a particular feeling of familiarity... and disappointment. . .Older brother?" Giles suggested weakly. Spike scoffed.

"Father!" He glared at Giles. "My god how I must hate you."

"What did I do?"

"Oh, there's always something."

"And what's with the trollop?" Giles said, pointing at Buffy.

"Hey!" Buffy protested. Spike looked taken aback.

"Her?"

"I saw you. . .sleeping together," Giles accused.

"Resting together."

"Look," Buffy said, excitedly showing them her left hand. "It's okay, we're engaged." Spike glanced shyly at Buffy.

"Oh." Then he turned back to Giles. "What about you? You've got a man- whore." Xander started menacingly toward Spike, but Giles stopped him. "I've got a tarty step-dad who's half old Daddy's age."

"Tarty?" Xander repeated incredulously.

"Old? I'm young enough to still get carded --"

"Carded! Driver's Licenses!" They all scrambled through their pockets. Xander held up his license first. "Look! Me! Alexander Harris. Cute picture. Hey, I exist!"

"I'm Willow Rosenberg. 'Willow'! . . .Funny name."

"I think it's pretty," Tara assured shyly.

"What do you got?" Willow leaned closer to Tara, attempting to get a better look at her card.

"Tara. And look, I'm a student at UC Sunnydale."

"Me too! Maybe we're study buddies," Willow said excitedly, happy to have potential friend.

"I don't have a wallet," Dawn admitted to Buffy sadly.

"Don't worry, me neither. But here..." She touched Dawn's 'nameplate' necklace. "You're 'Dawn'. Dawn looked down at the necklace, reading it upside-down.

"Or 'Umad'." They smiled.

"I'm called, let's see, 'Rupert Giles'," he announced, going through his billfold.

"Rupert," Spike teased, smirking.

"You're not too old to take over my knee... Son. What did I call you anyway?" Spike patted his back pocket, no wallet. Nothing in his interior pocket either. Then he read a label inside:

"'Made with care for Randy'. . .'Randy' Giles?! Why didn't you just name me 'Horny Giles' or 'Desperate-for-a-shag Giles'? I knew there was a reason I hated you!" He glared at his 'father.' Giles immediately went on the defensive.

"Randy's a family name. Undoubtedly."

"I've got a name on my jacket too." She read the embroidery over her heart. "'Harris'."

"Harris? That's my last name. Hey, maybe I have a brother and you go out with him." He paused. ". . . or, maybe you go out with me."

"I guess maybe you're my boyfriend."

"Either that or I have one pissed off brother out there somewhere." Then something struck him and he grinned, jumping up and down happily. "See? I'm not marrying the scary old man." He pulled Willow into a tight hug, ignoring the offended look on Giles' face.

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: I am going to continue this chapter, just in a little while, because I got sick of typing. Enjoy what you've got.