"He asked you out on a picnic?" Willow squealed in excitement as she and Buffy were walking a patrol through the Shady Hill cemetery on Monday night after Thanksgiving.

"Yes. First of all, daylight." They exchanged a knowing look. Both remembered all too well Mayor Wilkins' ominous prediction regarding Buffy and Angel – and picnics. "And the best part? He said he'd bring all the food, so all I have to do is show up and eat. Those are two things I'm really good at."

"So, he's nice?" Willow asked hopefully.

"Very, very," Buffy grinned.

"And there's sparkage?"

"Yeah. I really like him. I do."

"But...?" Willow prompted having heard the slight hesitancy in Buffy's proclamation.

"I don't know," Buffy furrowed her brow. "I really like being around him, you know? And I think he cares about me. But I feel like something's missing. I know I said I wanted something normal next time, but is there such a thing as too normal?"

"Missing the danger already?"

"Yes! No. I don't know... It's just that Riley seems so... solid. Like... he wouldn't cause me heartache."

"So, getting definitely away from that bad-boy thing?"

"There's no good there," Buffy shook her head and then grinned. "Unless, of course, you're my wayward sister Slayer."

"So, you're still firmly on the Faith-Rowan bandwagon?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy nodded. "I just hope they'll get a real chance at it. At least they can be fully open about the things that go bump in the night."

"So, if Faith were to come back tomorrow and tell you it was over between them, you wouldn't...?"

"Uh-uh," Buffy shook her head. "That would just lead to pain..." she continued but then fell silent.

"The pain is not a friend," Willow agreed with a sigh. She really wanted to have a quiet smoke now.

"But I can't help thinking," Buffy continued, deep in thought, not noticing her friend's discomfort. "Isn't that where the fire comes from? Can a nice, safe relationship be that intense? I know it's nuts, but part of me believes that real love and passion have to go hand in hand with pain and fighting?"

A vampire in a business suit suddenly jumped them from behind a thick bush. Buffy staked him without breaking stride.

"Are we talking about Buffy and Angel or Faith and Rowan here?" Willow asked in confusion.

"Sorry, what?" Buffy blinked.

"Nothing."


The following day, a third-degree interrogation of the Slayer kind was in progress in Giles' bathroom.

"You didn't see their faces, you can't describe them, you don't know where they took you," Buffy stated flatly.

"Underground," Spike snapped. "I'm done. Put the telly on."

Giles came into the bathroom carrying a mug with a straw in it.

"It's about time," Spike snapped. "Hope you got it warm enough, Rupert."

"Giles, pour it down the toilet," Buffy told the Watcher without blinking an eye. "The invalid-amnesiac routine is over, Spike. The kitchen is closed until you tell us something useful."

"Wait!" Spike exclaimed when Giles opened the toilet lid. "Look, I'm trying to remember. It was very traumatic."

"Exactly how long are you gonna pull this crap?" Buffy demanded angrily.

"How long am I gonna live once I tell you?" Spike countered sharply.

"Fine," Buffy snapped and took the mug from Giles. She held the tip of the straw just outside Spike's reach who tried to pucker his lips to get it into his mouth.

"Rupert," Spike groaned after a few futile attempts. "Make her stop."

"Shame on you, Buffy," Giles commented in a voice that was dripping with sarcasm and exited the bathroom. "If those two don't kill each other," he told Willow who was sitting on the couch reading a spell book. "I might lend a hand."

"What about a truth spell?" Willow asked contemplatively without raising her eyes from the book. "I'm not sure it would work on a vampire, but we could try. Make him 'fess up."

"A truth spell, of course," Giles smacked his forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"'Cos you had your hands full with the undead English patient," Willow grinned and handed Giles the book.

"Yes," Giles nodded having quickly skimmed through the spell. "Worth a go."

"Looks pretty simple," Willow nodded. "I think I have the required components at the dorm."

"Excellent," Giles complimented the young Witch and handed the book back to her.

"All right," Willow confirmed, standing up. "I'll be back tomorrow after classes."


The next morning, after Buffy had left for her morning classes, Willow grabbed the spell book, the required components and her "medicine bag" and went outside to sit at one of her favourite spots within the campus premises – a grassy knoll hidden mostly from view by tall and thick bushes.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, she rolled herself one. Lazily smoking the white cylinder, she read through the details of the truth spell twice. It really was very simple.

She was just about to stand up and head back to the dorm when she realized she should perhaps test the spell. She was fairly sure Giles would want to cast it on Spike himself, but it didn't hurt to be prepared for any eventuality. Besides, it was she who had suggested the truth spell in the first place. She didn't want to look like a fool if it appeared to be an incorrect one.

Taking a few motherwort leaves out of a Zip-lock bag, she rolled them into a cigar-like cylinder and lit them. She waved the smoke all around her while reciting the short spell.

"Let deceitful tongues be broken. Let no untruths be spoken."

She counted slowly to ten and then extinguished the smoking leaves. Taking a deep breath, she spoke in a clear voice, "My name is Buffy Anne Summers."

'What? No! It should have worked. Maybe that was too literal.'

"I have never smoked pot in my life."

Gritting her teeth in frustration, she flipped the pages of the spell book until she found a spell that looked like it was meant for strengthening one's magic.

"Control without, control within. Like a spirit flying in the wind. Out of my will, a web be spun. From this day forth, my will be done."

On the ground the motherwort cylinder turned to ashes in a bright burst of fire, eliciting a gasp from Willow. Amidst her astonishment she didn't notice that her half-smoked joint had shared the leaf's fate.

Had it really worked this time?

"My name is B-B-B... Willow Danielle Rosenberg," she had to force out of her mouth. Her heart started beating much faster in her chest. "I have nev... just finished smoking my first joint of the day." The brief flashing of her vision, like a camera's shutter, she put down to nerves and thought nothing more of it as she jumped up to her feet and did a little happy dance.


Later, when their last class together had ended, Buffy and Willow went excitedly in their separate ways – Buffy for a picnic, Willow for a spell-casting session at Giles'. During the day, Willow had been careful to answer any questions in class only briefly and to the point, but now she judged that the effects of the truth spell had dissipated. "My name is Buffy Anne Summers," she muttered just to be sure.

When she got to Giles', the Watcher had just finished moving Spike from the bathtub to a chair in the living room. He had a few patches of paint blotting his grey pants which was an indication that he had himself just arrived from the construction site of the new magic shop.

When Willow first heard about Giles' plans to open a magic shop, she had been ecstatic. Ever since Mr Bogarty's Magic Cabinet closed, she'd had to rely on mail orders from L.A. which was both slow and costly. Giles (and Xander) had not revealed any definite dates for a grand opening despite her almost constant badgering, but subtle hints – like the current state of the site, for example – pointed at a post-New Year timeframe.

"I did the research and picked up the motherwort," she explained happily while Giles was making last checks on Spike's restraints. "I tested the spell and it works, but..."

"Wait a second, Willow," Giles interrupted her and stopped his ministrations. "You tested it? On whom?"

"Myself, of course. It didn't work at first, but then I..."

"Yourself!" Giles practically spluttered. "Hang on, what do you mean 'it didn't work'?"

"I managed to speak an untruth after casting the spell, you see," Willow hurried to clarify. "Then I had to..."

"Excuse me? Can I go back to watching Passions while you two sort this out?" Spike piped in.

"Willow!" Giles snapped sternly. "Tell me exactly what you did."

The redheaded Witch licked her lips nervously. This was not how it was supposed to go. Giles should have been happy that she had shown initiative. "Well, first I made a roll out of a few motherwort leaves and lit it. Then I spoke the words, 'Let deceitful tongues...' and so on."

Giles snapped his eyeglasses off and started cleaning them furiously. "So, you didn't initialise it with the 'Enemy, enemy, be now quiet' opening?"

"On second thought, Passions can wait. This is much more entertaining," Spike commented from his chair.

"No," Willow shook her head desperately. "I wasn't casting in on an unwilling party, so I thought..."

"You thought you knew better than Witches and Warlocks who have spent decades researching this topic?"

"No, I..."

"But you said you managed to get it to work regardless," Giles pressed on, thrusting the handkerchief he had been using to clean his classes deeply into his trouser pocket. "How?"

"There was this other spell I found in the book. One that augments..."

"Now, let me get this straight. You used an augmentation on an incomplete truth spell?"

"Yes," Willow barely whispered. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, not really," Giles shook his head. "More like disappointed. This isn't like you at all."

Willow felt hot tears in the corners of her eyes. She could have taken Giles being mad at her but not disappointed. "I know," she sniffed sadly. "I know I've been a little off lately, but I promise I'll do better from now on."

"Willow, you know quite well it's not wise to perform magic unless you're absolutely sure what your intent is. If you're not fully focused, Lord knows what may happen. You're very lucky nothing catastrophic occurred."

"Well, nothing did," Willow huffed, shame giving way to indignation. "Besides, I said I was off, not incompetent."

"Regardless, I'm not sure it's wise for you to attempt any unfamiliar spells without supervision from now on."

"So, you're punishing me, 'cos I didn't follow your rules?"

"Now, that's not fair," Giles countered.

"Isn't it?" Willow challenged, now really agitated. "'Cos I'm doing the best I can, and it never seems to be enough for you guys."

"And I see how you could feel that way," Giles conceded. "I do..."

"No, you don't," Willow snapped, her eyes flashing again. "You just say do you, but YOU DON'T SEE ANYTHING!" The last came out as a scream. With that she spun around and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.


The food and drinks Riley had brought were delicious, but why, oh why did he want to constantly talk about driving? 'Maybe Sunday night picnics with Angel weren't such a bad idea after all...'

Buffy had tried to drop a few hints, like "no-wheeling is more my specialty" and "cars and Buffy are, like, un-mixy thing" but still he tried to engage her into a discussion on the soothing effects of driving aimlessly just for fun.

Riley's words about relaxation and "letting it roll" were passionate and the topic was obviously important to him, but why did they have to be about cars and driving?

"I like figure skating," she tried as a change of subject. "It was my childhood dream to become an Olympic athlete."

"Yeah? What happened?" Riley asked while reaching for a soda.

"Time happened," she shrugged. "High school, cheer-leading, moving to Sunnydale."

"Iowa isn't very famous for ice sports," Riley nodded. "But the roads and scenery there..."

"Oh, look... cherries!" she exclaimed and reached for the basket. "Cherries are yummy."

"Well, it's a good thing I got them, then," Riley smiled and reached for a few himself.

"My sis... friend can tie the stem in a knot with her tongue," she grinned, remembering Faith demonstrating said skill one time with the cherry in her ice cream.

"Wow, that's quite a skill," Riley agreed, looking impressed. "But it's the spitting of the pits that's the funniest part."

"Oh, yeah," she nodded and launched the pit in her mouth 20 feet away with a flick of her tongue.

"Seems like your friend's not the only one with cherry-related skills," Riley laughed and spat his pit close to where Buffy's had landed.

"We're multi-talented," she deadpanned and reached for another cherry.

All in all, it turned out to be a pleasant picnic after all.