Hi everyone. Thanks for the wonderful reviews for the last part and sorry I'm being slack with the updating. Not to give a bunch of excuses, but time just doesn't seem to stretch as far as usual at the moment. This is a shortish bit, but I promise to get the rest of act 1 up here by the end of the month :).

A couple of days later, Buffy was sitting at the kitchen table with Dawn. They'd made up their fight eventually, with both parties giving a little. Dawn had promised to take the younger members of the camp into consideration when it came to physical displays of affection and Buffy had tentatively agreed to let her get on with it with Reece.

After all, they'd already had sex. The worst that could happen now was pregnancy or sex diseases and Buffy decided she would feel a lot more comfortable with either worry if Dawn knew she could come to her without a lecture.

Naturally, the lecture would happen, but Dawn not knowing that was of the good. So they had made up, neither had broken their agreement yet, and all was right with the Summers sisters once more.

Mostly.

"I just don't get why you want me to go."

"I don't want you to go," Buffy said without looking up from the list she was making. "I just think you should."

"But you're not going," Dawn pointed out in frustration.

Buffy grit her teeth before answering. "Dad didn't ask me."

"He did! He said you can come along too."

"Yeah, as an afterthought." Buffy finally looked up. "I don't need a pity-dad-date thank you very much."

"He just… He doesn't know you're a Slayer. So… he just thinks you're a little weird," Dawn winced in apology.

"Great. Thanks. I'm weird and my Dad doesn't know how to relate to me so he just forgets I'm his first born."

"It's not like that. He hasn't forgotten about you!"

"No, he just acts like it." Buffy went back to her list.

"Mom thought you were weird before she knew."

"Yes, but she still loved me unconditionally."

"She threw you out!"

Buffy looked up again, glaring.

"Well she did. And then you told her and she got used to it. Maybe you should tell Dad."

"I don't think so, Dawn."

"Why not?"

"Because then it wouldn't be a secret identity." Buffy added sage and onions to her list.

"Like it's that anymore anyway," Dawn scoffed.

"It is!" Buffy looked up again. "Mom was used to further the cause of evil more than once, you too, but at least I was here to protect you both. Unless Dad moves to Cleveland I can't do the same for him so its better he never finds out about me. Or what we do here," she added, making sure Dawn got the point.

"I'm not gonna tell! I never have before, have I?"

"No, but you've never been quite so involved before either. Speaking of, did you do the follow up on the Sekopiluthian Hedray's Giles asked for?"

"Yes, Buffy. It's bad enough you check I do my homework, you don't have to check up on my extra curricula's too."

"Just checking you hadn't forgotten."

"I hadn't. I like doing this stuff."

Buffy smiled at her. "Cool, although a little disturbing. Do you think sweet potato mash, roasted potatoes and tater tots are too many carbs for one sitting? Factoring in the yams and the rolls too, I mean?"

"Well you're cooking for a bunch of slayers. You'll burn them off as soon as you stretch."

"No, there are more non-slayers than slayers." Buffy counted off on her fingers. "Giles, Will, Xander, Craig."

Dawn shook her head. "Craig's going with Andrew to meet his family. Didn't they tell you?"

"No. Does Andrew's family know?"

"I think Craig's going to help him come out."

Buffy chuckled. "Okay, well now I know what I'm giving thanks for."

She looked up as the back door opened and smiled as Naomi came in ahead of Reece.

"Okay, we're ready." Naomi gave her a broad smile back. "Where's Uncle Rubear?"

"He'll be down in a bit." Buffy added something else to her list. "Are you looking forward to the break?"

"Very much." Naomi sat at the table next to her. "I love it here, but I do miss my parents."

"Me too," Buffy muttered to herself.

"What have you got there?" Naomi asked next.

Buffy separated the pieces of paper in front of her.

"This is my shopping list and this…" she waved another sheet around before turning it face down on the table top. "…Is my Mom's secret recipe for turkey."

"There's a secret recipe for cooking a turkey?" Reece asked as he poured himself the last of the coffee in the pot.

"Well I guess it's not really that secret," Buffy said amiably – she was trying for Dawn's sake. "But my Mom used to make a really great turkey and I thought if I kept it a secret from now on it would be something to pass down to my kids – like a family tradition."

"I think that's a great idea," Naomi said.

"Me too." Dawn nodded, giving her sister a smile.

"So who is going to have the kids? You or Faith?" Reece's tone was a little too smug to be genuine curiosity.

"That's none of your business," Naomi said.

"Yeah." Dawn stood up, sliding her arms around his shoulders as she grinned at him. "Mind your beeswax."

Buffy was barely listening. Reece's question had caught her off guard. Which was stupid. It wasn't like she had ever really thought about children before. She had, once upon a time, but Angel's vampireiness had quashed any hope as far as she had been concerned then and she had never really thought about the prospect since. She'd always assumed, since Angel, that if she did want children one day it would sort itself out.

That was a pretty vain hope now she was with Faith. Not that she was really with Faith, but she wanted to be, and couldn't imagine being with anyone else. Was this something they should talk about or was it better left unmentioned for a while?

Kennedy came through the back door in mussed workout sweats, said a general hi and went to the fridge for a bottle of water. Buffy glanced up as she came back to the table and took a seat at the end.

"What'cha got there?"

Buffy went through the same explanation as before – without the for-my-kids part.

"I was wondering if we were doing anything special. I missed out on Thanksgiving last year."

"Why's that?" Naomi asked.

"Running for my life." Kennedy shrugged. "It'd be nice to do something this year. If anyone has a lot to be thankful for its us. True, we have a lot to unthankful for too, but still." She winked at Buffy; making her smile.

Giles came into the room next and Dawn reluctantly removed herself from Reece's lips.

"Are we ready?"

They both nodded.

"Our bags are already in the truck, sir."

"Good."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Dawn asked Reece, her arms still around his neck. "You've never had a proper Thanksgiving before."

"Maybe next year," he said, gently prying her off and taking her hand.

Good luck getting her to let go of that again. Buffy stood up with Naomi and gave her a brief hug.

"Don't forget to come back, okay?"

"I'm already looking forward to it." Naomi assured her as she followed the others out.

Kennedy called after them. "Safe trip, guys."

No sooner had the back door shut, Xander was coming through the swing door. "They gone?"

"Yep."

"Thank God! Two weeks of peace and quiet. Does that make me sound old? You know what? I don't even care if it does. Peace and quiet trumps getting old, wouldn't you say, Buff?"

She looked up just long enough to smile. There was no awkwardness between her and Xander. At least there was no reason for there to be. They still got along. Still hung out when they weren't too busy, but there was always that underlying feeling that they were a twosome when they should be a threesome. She honestly couldn't tell if Xander felt it too, but she was pretty sure if he didn't it was only because he was so far down in the dumps already that he couldn't even tell that things were worse now.

Buffy hadn't brought it up, she wanted to, but she didn't really see the point just at the minute. He and Willow had to make the first step first. Or maybe her and Willow. Willow was definitely the link. Until then, she and Xander might as well just keep on getting along as best as they could.

"Buffy's planning Thanksgiving," Kennedy told him as he sat at the table.

"Why bother. There's only going to be us here."

"Thanks for your enthusiasm," Buffy said.

He shrugged. "Sorry."

She sighed. His attitude was hardly a surprise. He'd sunk further down the happy scale since his argument with Willow and rarely came alive about anything but work. Giles had quietly mentioned Willow's idea of therapy and while she thought it might well be needed, she was wary of it. Two close friends in therapy at the same time might be more than she could deal with emotionally. If Xander had actually agreed to it, she would obviously be less selfish-gal, more supporto-gal, but so far he had done nothing but fight against the idea.

Buffy was thinking about asking Faith to talk to him, but not until after her first few sessions. No point piling the pressure on. Plus if it turned out it wasn't helping Faith, then there was no point encouraging Xander to go.

Think of the devil and Faith came through the back door, also sweaty from running. She looked way more delicious than Kennedy did though. Buffy was instantly all smiles, she couldn't help it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kennedy smirking at her but studiously ignored it.

"Where've you been?" she asked.

"Here, there and everywhere." She gave Buffy a bright smile in return as she went looking for coffee. Finding the pot empty, she groaned. "Where's the maid?"

"Packing and turning our room upside down in the process last time I saw him," said Xander.

"Well he should be down here when I want coffee," Faith grumbled.

"Do you want me to make you some?" Buffy was already rising from her chair.

"Nah, I'll do it. You look busy."

Buffy sank back down. "I'm just planning the meal for next Thursday. Do you have any special requests?"

"Why would I have any special requests for next Thursday's dinner?" Faith asked, distracted as she made the coffee.

Kennedy rolled her eyes. "It's Thanksgiving."

"It is?" Faith looked up. "Oh, well, in that case, lemme see. Last year I think I had turkey stew and mashed potatoes – I'd rather not ever have to have it again though. The year before was turkey and yam burgers and mashed potatoes – they actually weren't too bad, you know, aside from the stale buns and the mashed potato. The year before that…"

As Faith paused to remember, Kennedy cut in.

"Okay, we get it; your last few Thanksgiving's have sucked. Poor you."

"Well, it was prison. What did you expect?" Xander asked. "Mouth-watering roast turkey, cranberry sauce and chilled white wine?"

"Guys." Buffy muttered warningly.

Faith heard her and chuckled. Leaving the coffee machine to do its bubbling thing she came to stand at the opposite end of the table to Kennedy.

"Actually we had wine. Well, lock-up moonshine anyway. Better'n wine." She grinned. "Even helped you forget about the mashed potato."

"What about before prison?" Buffy asked.

Faith gave her a look that said 'Are you kidding me?' but answered anyway as she counted years backwards on her fingers.

"Coma. Happy burger meal in my motel room. The year before I was with my Watcher, who was English so not big on Thanksgiving. We did try and cook a pumpkin pie between us though. Before that I was with my Mom and she couldn't cook for shit so she never even bothered trying to do the big dinner thing…"

Faith trailed off with a strangely nostalgic look that made all of them a little uncomfortable. She seemed to realise and cleared her throat.

"So you're cooking this year, B? Are you sure that's safe? I don't wanna spend my first proper Thanksgiving in the hospital, ya know?"

Buffy gave her a mock glare. "This is the one meal I know I can cook, but keep up that attitude and I'll call the prison for that turkey stew recipe just for you."

Faith just grinned and went back to the coffee.

"So, do you need any help?" Kennedy asked.

"Yeah, she'll need someone to talk her down from the ledge when the stuffing won't stuff and the gravy goes lumpy," Xander mustered a smile.

Buffy grinned at him. "Watch it, or you're getting turkey stew too. Hey, I know what'll make it really special. Why don't we all put in a secret family recipe and then they can be our secret family recipes."

"That's lame," Faith said from the other side of the counter.

"You're only saying that because you don't have one," Kennedy shot back on Buffy's behalf. "I think it's a good idea. My Mom makes an awesome Roasted Calabaza…" Seeing everyone's blank looks, she rolled her eyes again. "…I'll call her and write down the recipe."

Buffy smiled. "Thanks. Xander, do you have one?"

Okay, that had been the wrong thing to say. His eyes went to the table top, but even still she could see his hard expression.

"Make everything as you normally would and just add a litre of scotch and gin."

Apparently gone were the days he could make light of his parents lack of any actual parenting skills.

Willow came down the back stairs; saving her from having to respond.

"Hi guys," she said neutrally and it looked like she was going to head straight on through to her magic room.

"Willow, wait." At Kennedy's voice Willow did stop – instantly – and turned to face her, but her expression remained disinterested. ""Buff's making a list of our favourite family Thanksgiving recipes. Do you have one?"

"Oh no," Buffy and Xander muttered at the same time. Faith, just coming back with her coffee, looked up with interest.

Willow turned a resigned look on Buffy. "You're making Thanksgiving again? Didn't you learn your lesson last time? And you!" She turned to Xander. "Did the syphilis really make it a warm, fuzzy memory that you want to relive."

Xander held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, don't get shouty with me. This is all Buffy's idea. Again."

Buffy glared at him. "Way to cover me in meat sauce and leave me to the wolves!" To Willow, she said. "It's not going to be exactly like last time."

"Oh, what a shame. Why don't we go a-and do some desecratey dancing on the Anashew Reservation. Maybe we can bring back some old friends to join in the party. Won't that be fun?"

"Ya done?" Faith asked when Willow had to take a breath. "What's with the meltdown? I thought Thanksgiving was supposed to be a good thing." She sat in the seat between Buffy and Kennedy. "Kinda thing your type like, ya know?"

"My type?" Willow asked sarcastically and Buffy felt pleased the attention was off of her for a minute and sorry it was on Faith all at the same time. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, nothing," Faith replied, genuinely confused. "I was just saying…"

"Wicca types? Is that what you mean?" Willow cut her off. "You think I get off on the ritual sacrifice of innocent beasts? Is that it?"

"Uh, no." Faith's eyes were wide with surprise but she didn't look around for help like Buffy would have done. "I just meant…"

"Oh, so you're taking a pot shot at the hippy lesbian thing right?" Willow asked, even madder for some reason.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm doing," Faith said sarcastically and before Buffy knew what was happening she was pulled into a deep, tongue-filled kiss. It only lasted a handful of seconds before Faith pulled away again just as abruptly. "I'm taking a pot-shot at the lesbian thing because I obviously have such a problem with it."

"I said the hippy lesbian thing," Willow said, her tone weaker now. "Because of all the peace and love and harmony and stuff. Which for the record, Thanksgiving is not about."

"Actually it is," Kennedy spoke up.

"No it's not." Willow turned on her ex now.

Buffy was still seeing stars and gazing dreamily at Faith, only vaguely aware of the turn the conversation was taking.

"Yes it is. The white man fucked up big time when he came here, but you can't say the pilgrims who took the time to sit down and break bread with the Indians didn't at least have their hearts in the right place."

"We say Native American now," Willow said harshly.

"Maybe you do, but maybe you should just say Americans and call yourselves Immigrant-Americans."

"Look at the little fish getting on her high horse," Faith said with a grin, but she sounded more impressed than sarcastic.

"I'm not, but my grandfather called himself a Mexican Indian and far as I know he never had a problem with the name. So why should I? And his great-great-grandfather owned land in New Mexico a couple of hundred years ago and got kicked out and driven south by Immigrant-Americans after the war, but that's never stopped my Mom from celebrating Thanksgiving every single year I can remember."

"But the atrocities!" Willow sounded less sure of herself.

"Were really bad." Kennedy agreed. "But all the people who committed them are dead already and probably getting tortured deep in some hell dimension. They can't even feel you still thrashing them so why ruin the opportunity of a good meal."

"See, you lost it at the end there," Xander smiled. "You should have said why ruin the opportunity to spread the peace and love – it would have cemented your argument a little better."

Kennedy smiled back. "Well, obviously I meant that too."

"Okay, fine, I concede." Willow grumpily sat down between Xander and Kennedy. "But just so you know, I'm still against it on principal."

"We know!" Xander said.

Willow gave him a hurt look and continued, "And when we start getting Mexican Indian spirits throwing knives at us in the middle of dinner; I'm going to say I told you so."

"We're in Cleveland," Xander pointed out.

"So? They could take a vacation." Willow tried smiling at him, but he just turned his head away.

Buffy felt a little of the happy-hit from the kiss seep away.

"So we're all on board with the meal now?" she asked.

"Yeah, sounds like a blast," Faith winked at her. "My secret recipe will be the pumpkin pie. Can't promise it'll be edible though."

"I'll call my Mom this evening." Kennedy offered.

Xander's fingers drummed the table for a moment. "My Mom could make a mean honey'd yam when I was little if that'll count."

"That sounds exactly like it'll count." Buffy smiled. "Will?"

"My Mom is to Thanksgiving what the Grinch is to Christmas – without the happy ending. But…" Willow drew the word out with a sigh. "I know her Latkes recipe like the back of my hand and its potato so it wouldn't be out of place with the turkey and stuff."

Buffy frowned, looking at her list. "Okay, we're definitely having those, but that means I have four types of potato down here. Before I start cooking we'll have to vote one of the others out of the house." She made a note of Willow's dish. "So you all just have to have the recipes to me by say… next Tuesday so I can do the shop for ingredients, and then you have to be on hand on the day in case any of them go wrong on me."

"Hang on," Faith said. "Our secret recipes get a whole lot less secret once you have them."

Humouring her, Buffy put one hand across her chest like she was taking the Pledge of Allegiance.

"I swear to keep your recipes to myself and never breathe a word of them to anyone else and only bring them out once a year for Thanksgiving. Feel better?" She smirked at Faith.

"I guess.

"What if you lose them?" Kennedy asked. "That's all our Thanksgivings down the pan in one go."

Buffy shook her head at their lack of confidence in her. "How am I going to lose them?"

The kitchen was emptier now. Faith was working somewhere. Buffy and Dawn had gone to Cleveland, shopping for Dawn's stay with Mr Summers. It didn't feel any less uncomfortable to Willow's sensitive self.

Kennedy was playing a game of solitaire on the table and ignoring her. Xander had some files on the table and was going through them correcting prices and order amounts, also ignoring her.

Willow sat between them trying to eat her lunch. Difficult with the way the heavy tension was blocking her throat.

Finally giving up, she grabbed her plate of cheese and cucumber sandwiches. Maybe she could eat in peace in her magic room. Before she actually made it away from the table the phone rang.

"Probably the guy about the snow tires," Xander said, getting up to answer the call.

Kennedy didn't look up. Willow wasn't interested either but she dawdled between the table and her room. If it was about the extreme weather tires Xander might be excited enough to talk to her about them afterwards.

Things weren't any better between them. Despite Giles assurance that he just needed time to get over her outburst, it had been nearly three weeks and, if anything, things were worse. He was never rude to her, as such. A little abrupt at times, or, okay, all the time. It was just a glitch though, right? It had to be. They had been friends too long and through too much to let one little frustrated truth-telling session end their friendship.

It wasn't like Xander hadn't been brutally honest with her about stuff in the past. Like the time Oz had left her and she'd hit a downward spiral for a month or so. He hadn't exactly pulled a lot of his punches then, had he?

She had to assume – or hope at least – that this longer than usual bout of unfriendliness between them came more from his perpetual bad mood than what she had actually said.

"Yeah, she's here. I'll get her."

Willow looked up. The previous parts of Xander's phone conversation had escaped her because she hadn't been listening, but now he was looking straight at her and holding the phone out.

"Who is it?"

"Oz."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kennedy look up and turned to her before looking back at Xander.

"What does he want?"

"First guess, to talk to you."

She had avoided speaking to Oz in the last couple of weeks unless he'd come to the camp for stuff. And only then if she couldn't run away before he saw her. It wasn't even that she didn't want to see him, but it felt awkward now… now that she knew he apparently still liked her.

"Tell him I'm not here."

"No."

"Please?"

She breathed a sigh of relief as he put the phone back to his ear.

"She's just coming," he said and then covered the mouthpiece. "You can't keep avoiding him, hoping he'll go away." He spared Kennedy a glance. "You have to give him an answer sooner or later."

"Answer to what?" Kennedy asked.

"Nothing. He hasn't even asked me any questions."

"Don't worry. Only a matter of time I'm sure," Kennedy muttered as she went back to her card game.

Willow glared at the top of her head. Why was she so worried if that was Kennedy's attitude anyway? She glared at Xander next for putting her in this situation. Letting her plate clatter to the table top, she took the phone from him.

"Hey, Oz," she said, faking cheer. "What did you need?"

As he explained he just wanted to catch up she felt a sneeze coming on. Her eyes watered and she waved a hand under her nose to try and keep it at bay.

"I've just been really busy, you know?" she said. "Always something going on around here."

She listened as he asked her to meet up later just to touch base, her nose tingling uncomfortably all the time.

"I don't know. It's not that I wouldn't like to catch up…" she saw Kennedy look over again. "…but I think we should probably… probably… probab…"

She sneezed a tremendous sneeze. So violent it took her a second to get her bearings back. They weren't what she expected.

It was dark, dusty and cold and there was a half inflated dinghy pressed into her knees.

She was in the basement with the phone still in her hand.

"Hello?" she said uncertainly.

It was completely dead. She held it out and then followed the cord downwards. It's severed end dangled at floor level.

"Oops."

"What the hell, Willow?" Xander demanded as Willow came back up through the basement door. "If ya really didn't want to speak to him couldn't you have just hung up?"

"I-I didn't mean to do it."

Willow sounded sincere but he ignored her. Storming over, he snatched the useless phone receiver from her to inspect it. Not that all the inspecting in the world would do any good. The cord was snapped clean in two.

"I'm sorry, Xander."

"How could you not mean to do it? What did you think was going to happen when you teleported on the telephone?"

"I didn't teleport! I just sneezed!"

"Oh yeah, like I'm going to believe that?" He shook his head.

"Maybe she's telling the truth," Kennedy suggested.

She was still sitting at the table, looking up with big-eyed surprise since Willow disappeared.

"Maybe I'm telling the truth?" Willow rounded on her, sounding hurt and annoyed.

Kennedy shrugged.

Xander threw up a hand in Kennedy's direction. "Stay out of it."

"Stay out of it? Like a broken phone is some big thing between you and Willow? We all use it."

She had him there. This may have been about more than phone. But he didn't have to admit that and it didn't mean the phone wasn't still a valid thing to get angry about.

"Fine, don't stay out of it!" he said before turning to Willow again. "You sneeze all the time…"

"I don't sneeze all the time!"

"Well, you sneeze as much as the rest of us and you've never disappeared before! At least not until you have to face something you don't want to. You can't tell me that's a coincidence."

"It is a coincidence," Willow insisted. "At least I think so. I don't really know what happened."

"Are you okay?" Kennedy asked.

"I think so. A little confused maybe."

"A little confused maybe?" Xander repeated. "That doesn't sound like the sound of someone who just magicked themselves unintentionally to a different place to me. I'm thinking you'd be lot confused."

"Well, I am," Willow said.

"Yeah, right. Well, whether you meant to do it or not, you don't have to worry about Oz calling again any time soon because we no longer have anything for him to call you on."

He threw the handset and it landed on the table top with a sharp thud.

"So I'll get us a new one," Willow griped and walked through to her magic room.

"Yeah, that sounds like the tone of an innocent woman," Xander called after her.

"What is your problem?" Kennedy resumed her game of Solitaire. "It's just a phone and we all have cells anyway. Faith caused a big hole in the ceiling a few weeks ago and you didn't make this much fuss."

Xander sighed and turned away.

He wasn't mad about the phone. Or, okay, a little mad because he was the one who was going to have to sort out getting them a new one, but mostly he was just mad because Willow had done it.

He was mad these days when Willow did anything. He didn't even know why? Except, of course, that she had been a bit more home-truthy recently than he was happy about. But that was nothing. Honestly. He respected her for laying it on the line – even if she was barking up the wrong line altogether. He'd been as blunt with her in the past – true, he'd been a little nicer about it. He hoped.

The thing was, if your best friends couldn't hit you with a true ugly to get you through the tough times, who could? Only Willow had only done it to get her through the tough times – the tough Xander times – and that just made him… irritable.

It wasn't like he had asked for her help. He was working through this in his own way just fine. So was it a crime to get mad when she foisted it upon him anyway? Willow wanted his grief and anger neatly packed away so she could move on from it without feeling guilty, but sorry, he couldn't go dark and evil and Magicky and threaten to destroy the world as a means of cathartic release; coming out the other side a better person in just a few short months.

He had to do it the hard way and was being left alone to get on with it really so much to ask.