I just reposted this because of the MAJOR continuity error I just found – sorry! And thanks to BlackbAngel to pointing it out!

Wow, lots of reviews. I think there's a bit too many of you to say thankyou to individually (sorry), so thankyou to cullenluver, redrider6612, alBBie (three reviews! And I think my spelling gets slightly better as the story progresses, and the speaking thing too… hopefully, tell me what you think), Ksue (newperson!), RabidReject, rocks and glass, flyerfan3588, BlackbAngel, MrsBrood (the droolage at the end of the chap is for you!), michebabyblue and uskohakuchan. That is A LOT. I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!

Ahem. Anyway, I meant to put this up yesterday, but I still hadn't written the last paragraph. So viola, this morning. I think that's less than 24 hours at least.

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Xander awoke to find Anya already pulling on her clothes. He rubbed his eyes, and glanced at the alarm clock next to him.

"Anya," he croaked, "it's five in the morning." She didn't reply immediately, taking a while to put her shoes on. When she turned to face him, she looked a little irritated.

"Isn't this what I'm meant to do?" she asked, her tone accusing. "Sneak out early so that nobody knows we're sleeping together?" She waited for an answer, he arms folded.

"No, Anya… that's not it." Xander got up, feeling incredibly groggy. He was not a morning person. "I'm just not ready to tell my friends about us."

"When will you be ready?" Anya demanded. "When will our relationship be important enough to tell people about?" She turned to leave, and Xander staggered out of bed, grabbing her weakly by the arm.

"Don't go. I'm sorry; I'll… tell them today." He turned and flopped back down on the bed, falling immediately asleep. Anya smiled down at him.

"You'll forget when you wake up," she said, not loudly enough to wake him again, "you always do." She lay down next to him, talking to him as though he was awake. "I really like you, Xander. Sometimes I think that if you were about to be eaten by a bunny, I might jump in the way and save you. Maybe. I definitely would if it was some sort of insect person." She considered this. "You don't like insect people," she added as an afterthought, hoping that saying that made it more meaningful. She sighed. She wasn't sure what to say to him, asleep or awake. Choosing the right words to make someone happy was not something she'd had to worry about for a very long time now. Of course, it didn't really matter now – he couldn't hear her.

-

Cordelia was in a panic. She had nothing blue to wear. The dress was perfect; she had something old, new and borrowed – but nothing blue.

"I have a blue hairslide," offered Willow pathetically. Cordy eyed the hairslide as though it was vermin of some sort.

"I am not wearing anything from Wall-Mart at my wedding!" She turned to look in the mirror, her face tomato-red. Buffy burst in.

"Ok, Cordy, I have a blue brooch, a blue bracelet, and…er... that's it. Anyone else got anything?" She glanced around. Willow and Harmony shook their heads – Harmony rather absently, as she was holding a toy unicorn in front of the mirror, trying to make it look like it was flying. Everyone had been a little anxious about Harmony's presence initially, but she hadn't killed anybody. Yet. It seemed as though her turning hadn't changed her much at all, and because of this Buffy felt a strange kinship with her, but she wasn't going to admit that to anybody. Cordy clapped a hand over her eyes.

"I'm not going to have anything," she wailed, "the wedding's in a week and I'm not going be ready!" Harmony put the unicorn back on the shelf and turned to her best friend.

"You know," she said brightly, "you could always just wear blue underwear."

"Does that count?" Willow muttered. Buffy shrugged. Cordy, however, was looking at Harmony as though she'd just told her Gucci was giving away their Autumn collection to her for free.

"Harmony," she yelled, seizing her undead friend in a hug, "You're a genius!"

Buffy grinned and turned to Willow. "Well now, that's something I never thought I'd hear."

-

In the hype around Cordy's wedding, part of Buffy was grateful that she hadn't told her friends. Cordy seemed pretty stressed out, and if Buffy waited a while, she could have planned a lot of the wedding before she got anyone else involved. And she and Angel had forever. Thinking that one word – forever – still seemed so strange to her. Of course, in her line of work she would be surprised if they really did last forever, but now it was a possibility. She could still be standing, her face unchanged, after her friends had been dead for centuries. Thinking about that, and then thinking about people getting married, made Buffy's head spin.

She tried to move onto lighter, brighter things. Her mind wandered back onto Cordy and Doyle. What will their children look like? She amused herself for a moment, imagining how difficult quarter-demon kids would be to look after. She kept trying to convince herself that she didn't want children. It was too risky; they'd be in such terrible danger. It was selfish, and ridiculous. I can't look after anything, she told herself, even thinking about having children is stupid, so stop it.

Feeling more than a little miserable now, she detoured off to the mall. Nothing like a bit of retail therapy to remind myself that I'll still look good in these clothes in 300 years' time.

She sifted through the racks of bright tops and pants. She hated shopping alone, she realised, especially now. She had no idea whether or not the clothes suited her. Sighing, she went back to Angel's without buying anything.

-

He was exactly where she thought he'd be, reading. He smiled when she came in, putting his book down beside him.

"You're early," he noted.

"Shopping got boring," she replied without missing a beat. There were two hours until nightfall, and she wanted to make the most out of them.

-

Two hours later, all of Buffy's doubts had vanished. She wanted to spend eternity just as she was then. One hand wrapped around her boyfriend's – her fiancé's – neck, holding him close to her. He was exactly the same temperature as her, and there was no annoying breathing movement of his muscular chest beneath her. The nothingness of their bodies made them perfectly in tune. She smiled. This was perfect. Then she groaned, realising what time it was.

"We should really go patrol now."

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Mmm… muscular… lol. Anyway, next chapter we're finally going to have Doyle saying something! Yay!

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