She finished her braid, her long brown hair draped over her shoulder. "Okay," she said, shuffling cards on the floor and making herself comfortable. Buffy leaned against the wall, watching her sister wearily. "I'm gonna read your future." She laid the Tarot cards out, and Buffy sighed.

"You really don't have to do this, Dawn. I don't need a babysitter. I have a slight concussion, that's it. I can go back to work tomorrow, and you can go back to school."

"Ah, ah, ah," Dawn warned, shaking the deck at her sister. "I'm reading your future, and then we'll see what happens." Finishing setting the cards up, she summoned her sister, who scooted across the floor. She flipped the cards over one by one, contemplating each as she uncovered them. "Buffy," she said, "in order to get where you're going, you must lighten your burdens and realize that everything's not as bad as it looks. You have to quit looking for what you're looking for and let it come to you, everything happens in time. Your new special addition to your life will bring mostly harmony and some discord, but all new additions do. And, you're going to get married."

"You got all that from twelve cards?" Buffy picked a card up, and stared at it. "The Prince of Cups? I'm getting new dinnerware? Big surprise."

"No, they each mean something different," Dawn answered, plucking the card from her sister's hand. "Depending on what you're thinking about."

Buffy stared blankly. "They're psychic cards?"

"No. Well, maybe. Your horoscope in the paper today said, 'Remember, sometimes you have to kiss the frog to get Prince Charming, and he may just turn back into a frog.' " Dawn took a look around her sister's empty apartment. "Case in point: Buffy Summers." Buffy blinked. "I mean, no offense."

"Yeah," the blonde admitted, laying back on the floor, and running her hands down the length of her torso, stretching. "I know what you mean, I have a pathetic existence without Angel."

"Totally not what I meant, Buffy."

"Face it, Dawn. I'm selling my pathetic empty apartment, to live my pathetic empty life. The only thing awesome I have going for me is my job."

"Buffy, pity-fest is not your look. Neither is stretched on the floor. Have you gained a little weight?" Buffy lifted her head, to stare down at her stomach.

"I'm fat now, too?"

"Oh, no, Buffy, that's really not what I meant. Oh, I'm an idiot."

"Dawnie, if I tell you something, you promise, promise, promise not to up and tell anyone?"

"Promise," Dawn said, leaning forward.

"I'm pregnant."

"No way!" Dawn laid down next to Buffy and smiled. "When! Why! How!"

"Well, Dawn, when a man and a woman are in love...well, when a man and a woman are in bed..."

"Shut up. I mean, wow. Buffy. A baby. You."

"You think I can't do it?"

"I think it'll be hard. Is that why—I mean, is that why he left?"

Buffy nodded, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah. It could be easy, Dawn. To get him back. Just go, go to the clinic, a—and do it. But I don't think I can. I tried." She looked at her sister. "I almost had an abortion."

Dawn smiled softly. "But you didn't. I know where your heart is."

"At Angel's new place? Or Spike's? By the way...I slept with my boss."

"What?!"

Buffy's office was strangely cold, clean. Collected. She sat at her computer, flicked it on and leaned back. She hadn't been in in several days, but her voicemails were practically nonexistent, just personal calls she'd also received on her cell phone. Both her out- and inbox were empty. Two scripts were sitting on her desk. She opened the first.

All My Children

Wednesday

HAS BEEN CANCELLED.

She opened the second script. It read the same, except "Thursday." She picked up her phone, and dialed into Spike's line. No answer. Blinking, she clicked into her email. "0 New E-Mails for Last checked: 4 days ago."

"Okay," she breathed, standing up and making her way towards the lounge. "I need coffee, and an explanation." She stopped at the writer's offices. Each were empty. She shrugged, then pushed the door to the lounge open.

"Surprise!"

Faith rushed forward. "There's cake," she explained quickly. "So don't ruin this, 'cause it's free."

"Welcome back," Spike said, gesturing toward the aforementioned dessert. "I hope you like cake."

"It's 8 am!"

"It has eggs in it," Faith said, edging closer. "Can we eat it now? I need a cigarette."

Buffy smiled at Spike. "Thanks."

"No problem. Least I could do."

The staff crowded around the cake, ignoring anyone who wasn't involved in handing out a piece. "Spike, I really don't think--" Spike stopped her.

"Move in with me."

"What?"

"Move. In. With. Me."

"Move in. Your office. You know, I always wanted that office, but I like mine, actually, a lot."

"My house."

"Your house."

"I can take care of you, Buffy."

"I can take care of myself."

"Just. Just until you find a new place."

Buffy looked at him, personable, smart, impossibly handsome, sexy, and sweet. "Okay."