Disclaimer: Well, I'm not feeling up to anything creative-wise in the disclaimer section. I own nothing Buffy the Vampire Slayer related. Joss Whedon does. And I don't own A Midsummer Night's Dream. William Shakespeare does. Or would, if he were alive today, or if his family has publishing rights. Oh, and I don't own anything relating to the movie version. Everything I own is crappy/ lame. No need to feel sorry, because my life is terrible.
Rating: PG-13- Naughtiness by the Bard

Summary: 100% AU! Magic? Mistaken identity? Fairies? True love? And . . . donkey lovin'? BTVS meets Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream!

Author's Notes: Hey, new chapter! *does happy dance*. Just saw the newest episode of our favorite show (I'm guessing it's your favorite too, seeing how you are reading fan fic based off of the show). So, me very happy. Why? Oh, I'm still appreciating the moment where everyone's favorite bad boy appeared half nekkid. Wow, I'm completely pathetic. Anyway, here is something special. You thought everything was ok in Stratford forest? You thought wrong! (I should never write tag lines for movies). Um . . . yeah. Please post, because the ultimate affirmation that I should continue with getting out of bed, showering, and performing customary acts of grooming rests in the reviews of people I've never met. I love you all.

PS: I'm not really one to like songs in fan fiction. I use to believe that it took from the overall writing. But remember everyone, I am a corporate shill and a review whore, so I have no ethics. Because my Groundlings are a band, they must sing. Therefore, they perform (well, not really perform, but you get the idea) "Warning Sign" from one of my favorite bands, Coldplay. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter Nine-Hempen Homespuns

"My dear, sweet Oz," grumbled Faith, the weight of her acoustic bass guitar making her sway to one side, "Could you please explain where the HELL we are going?!"

"Almost there." Oz looked over at Riley, walking next to him, and rolled his eyes. Then, the two pushed through a clump of low branches, which swung back almost immediately as they passed.

The next thing Wesley knew, he was lying on the ground, his face stinging from the branch whip.

Oz appeared over him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry," he mumbled, as Riley rushed back to help the manager up.

"No trouble at all," lied the man, picking up his glasses that had fallen to the ground.

Devon rushed up from behind, joining Oz and Riley at the front of the traveling group. As Wesley followed, he could see the brunet teasing Oz, who simply grinned and held up his middle finger.

Wesley glanced down at his watch. 1:03 AM.

The group would have arrived earlier, if Faith's POS van hadn't chosen that night to break down. They had to wait for a tow truck, run back to campus, and then pile into Anya's tiny station wagon. She hadn't made it a pleasant experience to top it off, threatening lawsuits if she found one scratch or stain anywhere.

"Hey Wesley!" cried Anya.

*Speak of the devil.*

"Yes Anya?"

"What in the world are we supposed to do tonight? Play like some sort of folksingers? Commune with nature? Dance around naked in the full moon?"

He gritted his teeth. "Your supposed to get that record contract, then make me a lot of money before you dismiss me and hire that Backsync Boys capitalistic so-called manager."

"What?" she yelled, not hearing the answer.

"Practice. That is all I am asking of you this evening. Then you can go home and sleep with whomever you find that rank bar where you hang out."

"Oh." He heard the woman sigh. "Um . . . Wesley?"

"What is it now, Anya?"

"That's not me. Faith's the one who has causal sex with strangers she meets in bars."

"WHAT?!" Wesley could hear the brunette slap Anya.

"I prefer to have my sexual encounters with people who've at least bought me dinner twice," Anya unfortunately continued. "I orgasm easier once my dates have spent money on me."

"Jesus, Anya! Please tell us more about your bedroom escapades!" Devon screamed.

"Sure. Last night-"

"Oh look," cried Riley, interrupting the sex talk, "We're here!"

Anya moaned. "But we were talking about me!"

She toned the volume down as they entered a clearing, almost as if the area demanded silence. Wesley couldn't wonder why as he looked around the area. Large trees crowning overhead, a serene waterfall pooling over to the left.

A low whistle came from Faith. "Nice digs, Oz. Where'd you find this place?"

He smiled. "I have my connections."

The scene was admired for a few minutes more, until Wesley exclaimed that it was time to practice.

Gathering in the small meadow, the band formed a semi circle. Anya sat in the middle, a large bottle of water clenched in her hand as she warmed up. Devon, Oz, and Faith began to tune their instruments, strumming a few bars. Riley, who couldn't bring his entire drum set, reverted to using Oz's guitar case as a makeshift bongo.

Wesley watched in amazement at the sight before him. A year ago, this had been the band. Five college freshmen with crappy instruments playing at open Mic nights, singing acoustic covers of popular songs. They had the talent, but not the publicity know-how.

Enter Wesley. He, a sophomore, had been majoring in business. He had met Riley in a computer seminar, and Riley invited the man to watch his band perform.

This was exactly how he met the band. After their hour-long performance, he treated the group to a round of shots at a nearby bar, and asked if he could manage them. Within a few months of working with the upperclassman, "The Groundlings" had become the most popular local band in the small community, and word was slowly spreading to LA. And after tomorrow . . . who knows.

A good-natured argument erupted between Faith and Anya over what song they would play first. Even with all of their local success, they were still the close knit family. They still kept their feet on the ground, knowing that it all could go away if they weren't careful.

"Alright," Wesley exclaimed, notebook in hand, "Let's get started."

^^^^^^^^^^

With a jump in her step, Willow strolled through the forest. King Xander's eyes lit up when she explained how she found the human boy and charmed him. But the moment of rest was short-lived.

She had a new, but easy assignment.

Queen Cordelia would be waking up soon, and he wanted to ensure that her eyes would fall upon the most grotesque creature that roamed through the forest. Simple enough. Lots of weird things wandered through the woods.

A noise caught the elf's ear. A noise coming from Queen Cordelia's haunt.

Slowing to a tiptoe, she snuck in. The queen could have already awaken, and fallen for some bear or bird that had rambled through unaware.

Passing by the tree, the noise became clearer. It was . . . music. Human music.

In the queen's meadow sat a group of humans, six at least, playing crude musical instruments. Off to the side sat another, although this one was over-impeccably dressed. Not for just the season, but for the situation.

Interested in this lone human, she studied him. He watched the group of humans, wrote some notes on a pad of paper, then shouted something or another back to the group. Everything about him was formal: his manner, posture, penmanship.

An idea hit her.

This human, this anal-retentive human, would be perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

^^^^^^^^^^

Slightly applauding the blues-y rendition of "Someone Like You", Wesley sat up as they announced their second song.

Oz and Devon began to strum, Faith came in a few seconds later, along with Riley's mock-bongo.

As the melodramatic tune went on, Anya sat up slightly, parted her lips, and let the tune flow out

{A warning sign}

{I missed the good part then I realized}

{I started looking and the bubble burst}

{I started looking for excuses}

Not many knew how well she could sing, but as the honey-like notes melted through the forest, Wesley knew that his lead singer could woo anyone.

{Come on in}

{I've got to tell you what a state I'm in}

{I've got to tell you in my loudest tones}

{That I started looking for a warning sign}

A subtle grin crept on his face. "The Groundlings" had no idea how good they were. Every note was perfect, but it wasn't the perfection that was key. Each member played their instruments or sang from the soul. Slow songs were comforting, as if sleeping in a hammock with the warm wind pushing you. Fast songs were energetic, a thousand people crammed in a room jumping.

They came to the chorus, and Wesley set his pen down to enjoy the cover he personally preferred.

{When the truth is}

{I miss you}

{Yeah, the truth is}

{That I miss you so}

Sucked into song, didn't notice the tickling at the back of his neck until the chorus ended. He itched at it, but it soon came back, followed by a peaceful feeling.

{A warning sign}

{You've come back to haunt me, and I realize}

{That you were an item, and I passed you by}

{That you were an item to discover}

"Wesley . . . Wesley . . . come here," a voice whispered. It was a heavenly sound, something layered in tones and echoing almost magically.

{Come on in}

{I've got to tell you what a state I'm in}

{I've got to tell you in my loudest tones}

{That I started looking for a warning sign}

Eyes rolled back as the man began to sway, hypnotized by not only the song, but by the voice.

{When the truth is}

{I miss you}

{Yeah, the truth is}

{That I miss you so}

{And I'm tired}

{I should not have let you go}

Although his mind did not command, his body stood, and slowly walked towards the beckoning voice.

{So I crawl back into your arms}

{Yes I crawl back into your arms}

It stopped him behind a large tree. Away from the eyes of the band, he felt an unearthly presence pass through his body, warming, then cooling.

{So I crawl back into your arms}

{Yes I crawl back into your arms}

As soon as it started, it stopped. He snapped out of it, unaware of what had possessed him, and slightly forgetting why he was there.

But, then he heard the final chords settle, and forgetting his uneasiness, headed back to the band.

^^^^^^^^^^

"Yo Awn, you went flat," Devon said, tightening the string on his guitar.

With a horrified look, she removed her flip-flop and chucked it at the brunet.

"Prove it!"

Grinning, Devon turned to Wesley, who was just coming back from behind the tree. *Nature calls, I guess.*

"Wes, did ya hear Awn sink flat?" he asked the man. But he was taken aback as he saw Wesley come closer.

His normally clean-shaven face was suddenly growing with hair. Not just around the chin. Every single piece of skin was now covered in a dark brown, fur-like hair. Glancing down at his hands, Devon saw that, they too, were covered in hair.

"What's the matter now?" inquired Wesley, clueless as to why the band was staring at him. He turned to see if something was standing behind him.

It was at that moment when they saw them.

Two long, pointed ears sticking out of the back of his head.

Girls shrieked, and guys yelled. As quickly as they could, they grabbed their instruments, and ran away from the monster that was their manager.

Wesley merely stood still, unsure of why they left so quickly, why they screamed, and why he had a sudden craving for hay.

"Is something wrong?" he called out into the empty forest. Walking around in a circle, he asked the question again.

But the second time, there was a response. Someone yawning.

"Wow," sighed the lovely, but commanding voice, "Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice voice?"

He turned towards the stranger.

"Pardon?"