"Dawn! You're going to be late!" Buffy cried from the kitchen yet again, getting breakfast ready, but this time the call wasn't all that true. The injured teen came downstairs ready to go and sat at the bar, glancing at the clock and scoffed.
"I thought I was running late!" She whined, beginning to eat anyway, Xander walking into the kitchen with a smile. The two best friends and adults in the room didn't have to say anything to convey they both had their own mess of problems to deal with, and everyone had to worry about Dawn. Buffy looked down and away, going to clean the dishes, the sudden urge to head for Spike's crypt in the misted of the day was crawling beneath her skin. Originally she had gone to him to feel alive...now she almost needed him to breathe, her body growing warmer and more excited to the cold comfort he brought her. She got the dishes in the sink and turned to take Dawn's discarded plate, looking at Xander.
"I'm guessing I don't have to tell you to be safe?" She asked, saying it more to assure herself. Xander nodded, made a comment about it was understood and left with Dawn, leaving the petite slayer alone in her house. Willow had gone to stay with her parents a few days, hoping that their total lack of magical anything could help her de-tox. So there Buffy was alone in her kitchen, her body aching for a certain neutered vampire's touch. She shivered, trying to remember a time when she didn't want him, hoping that would calm her body down.
It didn't work.
Buffy found herself grabbing her coat and heading outside, heading for the cemetery at a moderate rate. Her speed grew slightly the closer she got, the mosaleum calling to her every moment. She made it to the door and placed her hand to it, letting it caress the cold metal. Her scent had awakened Spike, brought him up from his bed from way across the sizable land that was the graveyard. He could feel Buffy's heat through the door, his hand going in place of hers on the opposite side. Buffy pressed her body to the door, wanting something, but knew truly giving in would be wrong, especially someone she didn't love. She had made that mistake before, giving into temptation, making a choice. But this, this...whatever it was called by resting against the door was nothing wrong, even if she closed her eyes and swore she could feel those cold fingertips brushing lightly against the crotch of her pants just as his hand brushed that area of the door, feeling the swell of warmth there, knowing how she must physically feel at this time. A soft moan escaped her lips as a low grunt came from him as the two of them rest there. Suddenly Spike thrust the door open, sure of the clouds that would be outside, but that was all that was there. The thick, grey, clouds...no slayer in sight.
Anya suddenly threw the little post-it notes in her hands across the table, pouting at the mess before she began crying, the stress getting to her. Planning the wedding was proving to be too much for her today. She held her head in her hands and suddenly felt two strong, loving hands beginning to rub her shoulders to help her relax. Anya closed her eyes, the tears still falling but Xander's comforting actions were greatly helping.
"Thank you Xander," she breathed, her voice hitching from the sobs that still shook her slightly. He leaned down to kiss her as if to say she was welcome. She sighed and looked back at all of the work, "It's so much...at times I wish I could just say 'screw it. Screw this big wedding and let's get eloped'!" Xander kissed her neck and rested his chin on her shoulder.
"Is that what you want Ahn? To get eloped?" Xander's voice conveyed neither choice, only that he wanted his fiancée happy. Anya shrugged and wiped her eyes, leaning against Xander's strong chest.
"All I know is that this hurts...all this deciding, even with help, it hurts..." she looked it over "But my dress...all the money, all the time..." she sighed heavily.
Lying in the bed, shivering, sweating, and trying her best to stay away from magic, and be strong to get Tara back. This was one of those days where bad didn't even begin to form the atomic structure of how she felt. Willow was crying, closing her eyes tight before she felt a hand brush across her cheek, she opened her eyes to see Oz seated beside her, watching her. Willow began to protest, but Oz stopped him, making her stay quiet, leaning down to kiss her softly. When Willow laid back to she the other she was clinging to, it now was Tara, watching Willow with loving eyes, touching her cheek again.
"Success is never final, Failure is never fatal, it's only Courage that counts," Tara breathes before Willow sat upright suddenly gasping in the middle of the night, unaware of the fact that both Buffy and Xander have done the exact same thing in each their respective beds for the night, both Spike and Anya fast asleep, the memories of Oz and Tara lingering in the room around the distraught wicca.
(Author's Notes: This is the beginnings of an experimental fanfic idea I came up with after reading the story Setting up House by Sandy S. Thanks for a wonderful story, it inspired this...a crazy look into my interpretation of the relationships of the scoobies...I know this is neither a chapter nor a complete story, just a beginning so then I know which one to continue with. If I do all three, one chapter will be devoted completely to a couple. Please review or e-mail me at to inform me of which story line you really enjoy the most.)