A comfortable weightlessness surrounded her, swaddled in a warm glow, and Buffy knew without question that she was dreaming of her time in heaven, yet again. Her dreams were all she had now so she relished the semi-lucid moment before wakefulness when the dream would slip away as it always did.

She shifted her shoulders slightly, realizing with a little jolt that didn't totally pull her out of sleep, that there was an arm wrapped securely around her. A hard but comfortable body pressed against her back. She focused on the feeling. The way the still chest, thighs, and groin pressed into her soft curves, lining up against her perfectly. Letting the feel of it drown out all thoughts of anything that wasn't the man she was cradled against.

Wherever she was, she was safe, cared for, and loved.

Without opening her eyes, she tried to assess her situation. It was quiet except for a bird singing in the distance, her hand was clutching a thick blanket and there was the scent of musty cold in the air that mixed oddly with the taste of whiskey still on her tongue.

The arm around her constricted as though reassuring its owner that she was still there and her breath stilled.

Then realization hit.

Her eyes opened, dimly taking in the familiar sight of Spike's crypt as the entirety of the night before slammed into her.

Their talk was admittedly a little fuzzy in her mind but she had a pretty good idea of what had happened. She chanced a glance down, the pale arm holding her securely in place, black-tipped fingers curled around the back of her fingers clutching the blanket, confirming her suspicions.

She had asked him to stay, just before drunkenly falling asleep on his couch.

More importantly, he did.

Even in his own home, he hadn't simply waited for her to fall asleep before going to his own bed like some tired parent with a clingy toddler.

He stayed.

That thought alone sparked an influx of new thoughts that she simply didn't have enough room in her mind to hold. Her head was too full. Too much information, and far too many emotions all vying for attention.

Unable to think of anything else clearly she began to extract herself from under the blanket, using it as a sort of fulcrum to raise Spike's arm and allow her to slip out from his embrace.

As she righted herself in front of the coffee table, Spike murmured unintelligibly in his sleep. She turned to find him clutching the blanket to his chest, looking oddly innocent, almost childlike. She stood, bolted to the spot as she watched his hand clench the blanket, as a look of anguish passed over his features. Before she could register what she was doing, her hand reached to smooth the hair back over his temple as though it had a mind of its own. Spike's entire body seemed to melt into relaxation with that simple touch and the next word muttered from his lips was all too clear.

"Buffy…"

Her heart jolted into her throat.

It was too much.

Too much.

She cast her eyes to the window noticing the dim light coming in. The sun was coming up.

Dawn…

Dawn will be getting up for school soon… I have to work… I have to— I have to get out of here…

(*)

As Buffy had expected, the news of her true whereabouts during her death had spread to the rest of the Scoobies and by Friday she was seriously debating whether or not she even wanted to go to Anya and Xander's engagement party. Aside from working at the store, she had been trying her best to avoid extensive social interactions. A large part of her just wanted to stay home, take a bubble bath, and pretend she was just a normal girl who wasn't on her third crack at life. But no…

"Need help with the outfit decideage?" Willow asked as she walked in through Buffy's open bedroom door.

Buffy tore her gaze from the clothes in her closet where she had been staring blankly for the last several minutes. "Oh, eh, that obvious, huh?"

Willow nodded and Buffy noticed that her friend was only about half ready herself, standing there looking a little awkward in her fuzzy slippers, a camisole, and a long brown skirt emblazoned with massive colorfully embroidered flowers and vines running along the bottom and up one side. She had put her hair in rollers before doing her makeup and was just waiting to take them out.

"You do seem pretty outer spacey," Willow answered. "You know, Buffy, if you want to talk about it or—"

Buffy stood up abruptly, striding toward her closet and cutting Willow off. "I was kind of thinking maybe I should go with my red dress. What do you think? I mean I haven't worn it yet and it has good party vibes, right?"

Willow blinked several times, taken aback by Buffy's sudden shift. "Yeah, the red one is great, totally perfect. Maybe you could wear your red and silver beaded choker with it?"

"Good call, thanks for the help, Wills," Buffy replied with a dismissive wave toward the door. "You better finish getting ready too or else we're gonna be late," she added in a more cheerful tone that she hoped would lessen the sting as she guided her out into the hallway.

"But, I—" Willow whimpered in protest.

"I'M FINE!" Buffy insisted, closing the door behind her.

Buffy collapsed onto the bed heavily, examining the ceiling above her, chest feeling tight. She took several deep breaths before finally rolling up to sit.

There go my big ideas of a nice long bath… She lamented as she began getting ready.

(*)

Willow stepped back into her room, chewing the inside of her cheek as she made her way toward the vanity where Tara had just finished tucking away a stray lock of hair at the back of her neck with a bobby pin. Willow sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling more than a little stunned by Buffy's odd behavior.

"What's wrong?" Tara asked, eyeing her over her shoulder in the mirror.

"Buffy. She's been so distant and avoidy and all with the non-Buffy-ness and I just feel so bad because now I totally get why she wasn't big with the happy when we brought her back and—" she cut off with a whine, looking to Tara for reassurance.

Tara swiveled around on the stool to face her. "I know you want to fix everything but I think it's just going to take her some time before she's ready to work through it all."

"But that's the worst part. I can fix it— I know I can— or I- I mean I could fix it. If I could just—" she stopped, pulling the shirt she had laid out for herself into her lap, examining the stitchwork along the hem. "I just feel kind of useless without magic, like there's nothing I can do to help anyone and that's all I want to do. Help people. And then I think, 'Well hey, if I can't even help my best friend, then what good am I?"

Tara leaned forward, clutching Willow's hand in hers. "Don't you understand that you can still help, without magic? Just talk to her."

"I've tried. She just keeps pushing me away or changing the subject."

"She's been through a lot, she just needs time to work through the trauma. You'll see. No magic needed," Tara offered supportively.

Willow frowned but nodded numbly as she began to slip her top over her shoulders and did up the two little buttons and the bow that held the flowing green top closed over her bust.

"Give her time," Tara said as she got up, placed a kiss on her forehead, and headed downstairs to tidy up.

Willow took her vacated seat at the vanity, taking out her rollers while a thousand thoughts kept rushing through her head.

Time… Buffy needs time… Meanwhile, she's suffering… A walkie-talkie-ghost-Buffy going through the motions. Oh sure, she's still all Slayery and down with the butt-kicking but she's just not— Buffy.

I want my friend back. She thought, bending down to pull out a square basket of herbs and a bag of dried purplish flowers.

She hesitated a moment, thinking about her promise to Tara. She hadn't used magic the last two days and she was definitely beginning to realize just how much she had been relying on it. But this wasn't like doing her hair or brushing her teeth, this was her friend's life and overall happiness on the line here. Surely this qualified as a good reason to use magic. If Buffy couldn't remember dying, heaven, or digging herself out of her grave she would be back to happy Buffy again, right? It was worth the shot, wasn't it?

Either way, it was probably best to take away Tara's memory of her ultimatum just in case.

This wouldn't count though, would it?

It was too big.

Too important.

How could she possibly be expected to just sit back and let Buffy ride out the waves of misery alone?

She was only being a good friend.

She pulled the plastic liner from the small metal trash bin under the vanity and proceeded to set a candle in the bottom. Next, she pulled out a clear crystal point and a few sprigs of dried flowers, setting the rest of the bag on the edge of the vanity.

She had little more than murmured the words of the spell, directing her intent toward Buffy and Tara, when there was a knock on the door.

"Come on, Will, Buffy says it's time to go!" came Dawn's voice from outside the door.

"I'm coming, just a sec," Willow answered, dropping the crystal into her skirt pocket and turning away from the candle still burning inside the garbage bin. She slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind herself a little harder than she usually would, toppling the bag of flowers and spilling its contents into the bin waiting below.

(*)

Buffy led the way down the corridor to Xander and Anya's apartment with Dawn by her side.Tara and Willow bringing up the rear, chatting quietly together.

"I have a seriously bad feeling about this," Dawn groaned.

Buffy quirked a brow. "That's funny, I thought you were all with the woo and the hoo."

"I'm not talking about Anya and Xander, kinda used to her now— I just mean tonight in general," Dawn answered cryptically.

"Let me guess. Your horoscope warned you that something bad was going to happen?" Buffy huffed. An hour ago she would have taken any excuse, even an astrological one, as a reason to stay home and half wondered if Dawn purposely stayed quiet on their way there for that very reason.

"It was yours, actually," Dawn frowned, pulling out a section she had cut from the newspaper and handing it to her sister.

Buffy took it, reading the uniform print.

A friendship could be in jeopardy when trust is brought into question, but take heart, a new love will soon come into focus who will help you through this difficult time.

Buffy bit back the initial retort that seemed to be hovering readymade on the tip of her tongue and handed the paper back. "Look, I know what you're thinking, and yeah, the other night was intense. I'm— dealing. Oh and up side, Will seems to be doing better with the no-magic."

Dawn gave her a skeptical look.

"I'm not saying what she did doesn't wig me out because it does, majorly big time. But I think she's serious about cutting back— and if Tara is willing to give her a chance, then I think we can too." She dropped her voice as they turned a corner. "Oh! And guess what, just yesterday she made toast— using the toaster, and then, you're not going to believe this— but she did the dishes— by hand," Buffy said, nodding with mock enthusiasm that made her sister roll her eyes.

"Ah huh, whatever," Dawn murmured as they reached the door. Buffy knocked, turning to make sure Tara and Willow had finally caught up to them just as Xander opened the door for them.

A big banner emblazoned with "Congratulations Anya and Xander!" had been tacked above the sitting area in Xander and Anya's apartment. White and light blue streamers had been twisted artfully all around the perimeter of the large open space with paper wedding bell decorations dotted around.

Ever since Xander had proposed, Anya had been attempting to improve her culinary skills. Partly as a way to cope with the stress of keeping their engagement a secret and partly out of a sense of necessity since she had insisted they needed to eat more home-cooked meals. As such, she had spent countless hours making an obscene amount of hors d'oeuvres for their guests to enjoy in place of a sit-down meal.

The result was a mildly crazed Anya rushing around with plates and trays of food despite Xander's efforts to help.

Dawn cast a panicked look at her sister as Anya pressed her into service, grating cheese while Buffy went to settle herself on the couch.

"Huh, didn't see this one coming," Dawn muttered to herself. "Guess that's what my horoscope meant by 'Beware the unexpected'," she huffed as she dropped mounds of cheese inexpertly onto morsels of thin-cut ham layered atop slices of fresh baguette.

"So how's the astrology thing going?" Anya chirped conversationally, moving trays around in the oven, popping the ham and cheese baguette bites into the oven to melt the cheese, and checked her timer.

Dawn froze in momentary shock at the vaguely-interested question, before answering. "Oh hum, yeah it's good. I'm sort of starting to get the hang of star charts now. They're kind of tough."

"We had a couple of new beginner books come in with the last shipment, you might like. There's one that focuses entirely on the moon," Anya said, pulling out two bottles of soda and setting them on the counter in front of her.

Dawn blinked. "I'll have to check them out, thanks."

"I'm not running a library, you'll have to pay for them."

Dawn gaped. "Hum, yeah—"

"Here, set these on the table over there," Anya requested abruptly, gesturing to the dining table that had been pushed against the wall between the two doors on the opposite side of the apartment.

Dawn's shoulders drooped slightly with the return of Anya's bossy nature as she gathered up the bottles and made her way across the room passing Willow who was standing awkwardly by the table.

Willow rolled the crystal point between her fingers as she tried not to watch Buffy and Tara as they chatted quietly on the couch. From Buffy's body language, it was clear to Willow that her friend had only agreed to come out of love for their friends. Willow was certain if Xander and Anya hadn't made such a fuss about sharing their engagement bliss with the group as a whole, Buffy would probably have stayed home. Tara too if she were being honest.

Was it her imagination or did Tara keep looking over at her as though she knew what she had done?

Willow's rambling inner thoughts were interrupted when Anya practically shoved a plate of fancy rosemary crackers topped with apple, melted brie, and honey.

"Here, take these. I have to get the salmon puffs and jalapeño poppers out of the oven," Anya informed her before scurrying over to the kitchen.

Willow examined the plate, taking one of the hors d'oeuvres with a shrug as she decided to give them a try and was surprised when she found herself reaching for a second, then a third.

There was a moment of happy commotion when Giles arrived bearing a bottle of champagne. He had no more than extended his heartfelt well wishes to the happy couple when there was another knock at the door.

Xander cast a questioning look around the room at the Scoobies all gathered there and to Anya who was busy pulling miniature turnovers out of the fridge and preparing them for the oven. Unwilling to interrupt her, he went to open the door.

"Spike? What are you doing here?" Xander asked dumbly.

Spike smirked in response, holding up a piece of white cardstock. "Got a nice little invite, didn't I?"

"Wha— Wait a minute, that can't work can it?" Xander sputtered looking aghast as Spike sauntered past him without an ounce of resistance.

"Course it does," Spike replied, heading straight for Anya in the kitchen. "You sure you wanna tie yourself down to this git?" he asked, offering her a bottle of wine.

Xander's jaw dropped. "Anya?"

Anya rolled her eyes, shooting both of them with a 'play nice' glare, then turned her attention back to the food. "It's not like I can't invite my friends too, right, Xander?" Anya countered, reaching up to pull wine glasses out of the cupboard.

"It's not— it isn't when he's a—"

"Put a sock in it, Harris. I know how to behave like a proper little gentleman," Spike smirked, silently gesturing to Anya for the glasses and offering to pour the wine. "Unlike some people."

He slid a glass toward her, and poured one for himself.

Xander conceded the point and had no more than crossed the room to sit next to Tara when her head suddenly fell back onto the couch. Buffy and Xander both collapsed into sleep a split second later.

Dawn and Willow rushed toward the couch— falling to the floor mid-step. Giles collapsed over the breakfast counter where he had been sitting, head pillowed on his right arm. Anya slid down in front of the fridge, the wine she had been sipping with Spike fell to the floor as he joined her fast asleep in a heap.

(*)

The tile floor pressed against his cheek and he shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable, when he realized his arm was draped over something soft and warm. He opened his eyes slowly, disturbed by the sounds of other people beginning to move around. The "something" he had found himself wrapped around was a woman. Thin and pretty, wearing a blue floral print dress that set off her hair nicely.

The woman stirred, blinking groggy as she looked around. His hand shot back as her eyes locked onto his. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked.

He cleared his throat. "I hum— not sure— sorry," he stammered.

The pretty woman blinked at him blankly. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Could start with where here is. I haven't got the foggiest idea, do you?" he countered.

She blinked a few more times, a sleepy groan from the counter above them drew their attention. An older man straightened himself up examining and adjusting a pair of glasses. Setting them on his face properly, he looked around the room in pleasant surprise. "Ahh now that's better," he murmured to himself in a refined British accent. His brow began to furrow as he looked around the room. "Well hello. Erm, would anyone mind explaining what's going on here?"

"I don't know," the woman he'd woken up next to on the kitchen floor answered as they pulled themselves up to take in the scene.

A petite blonde in a red dress stood up from her seat on the couch, backing away slightly from a young dark-haired man and a second blonde woman in a purple skirt who were separating themselves from where they had been slumped together. "Oh wow, what the heck is going on here?" Red-dress asked.

He couldn't help feeling drawn to her but stayed where he was. "Dunno, seems we're all a bit out of sorts," he answered, his voice coming out in an English accent that startled even him.

"Hey there," the dark-haired man on the couch said, grinning at the girl next to him. She blushed furiously as she shifted away avoiding eye contact and looking around the room, her eyes fixing on a redhead in an embroidered brown skirt who was helping a young girl brush something off of her pale pink dress that had spilled onto her.

The redhead was speaking quietly to the girl, reassuring her that she was safe and that they would get things figured out. As though to convince herself of what she was telling the girl, she looked up at the group of people. "Does anyone know who we are or what we're doing here?"

The dark-haired guy stood up. "Not me! And why does this place look like a discount party store wedding reception?" he replied.

"Well, it's a party, obviously, and a pretty nice one on a budget if you ask me— or at least it was," the pretty woman standing next to him huffed.

The fact they had awoken side by side led him to believe they were at least a little familiar with each other so he laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's a right nice party too."

"That's it! A party! Someone must have drugged us!" the dark-haired man said hysterically.

The older bespectacled man stood, crossing his arms in front of him. "Oh do calm yourself. If we have been drugged then the question we should ask is, to what end?"

The redhead in the embroidered skirt raised her hand like an over-eager student. "Ohh! I have a student ID for UC Sunnydale. It says I'm Willow Rosenberg."

The girl next to her patted her dress looking for pockets and then realized she was wearing a necklace. She twisted it around awkwardly to read it. "I- I think I'm Dawn," she answered.

"Oh that's pretty," the blonde in the red dress replied.

"Anyone else have IDs?" Willow asked.

"Yes, here I am," said the older man, pulling out his wallet. "I'm Rupert Giles."

"I'm Tara," answered the soft-spoken girl still on the couch.

"The tag on my underwear says 'Harris'," the dark-haired guy announced proudly, receiving blank blinking stares from his companions. "What? I bet lots of people write their names on their underwear!"

"Ah huh… anyway, I don't have any ID so I'm just going to name myself—" the blond in the red dress chirped happily. She thought for a moment before grinning. "I'm going to call me Jane. Like Jane Doe."

"Jane Doe, seriously?" Dawn scoffed.

"What's wrong with it? I mean it's just until we figure out what's going on, but I like it," she smiled sweetly.

He watched her as she straightened her shoulders as though taking ownership of her self-appointed moniker, and he found herself grinning at her fondly. A rose by any other name…

"Oh! Maybe it's some kind of experiment for the college! Does anyone remember signing up for an experiment? Are there cameras?" Willow asked excitedly, cutting into his musings.

They all looked around halfheartedly, shaking their heads when Dawn spoke up. "I eh, I don't think I'm old enough for college," she squeaked timidly. "And I'm pretty sure I don't drink or do drugs or anything like that…"

The bespectacled man identified as Rupert pointed to the large banner above them. "I dare say we're closer with the party notion. It would seem it's for Anya and Xander, whoever they are."

"W-what if it's some kind of a gas leak?" the newly minted Jane asked.

Her worried voice made something inside his chest crack and he had a sudden urge to go to her but before he could the woman next to him squealed happily.

"Oh! I think I know!" She waved her hand around showing off a diamond ring. "It's an engagement party! I must be Anya, which means—" she turned to face him, a brilliant smile on her face "—you must be my fiancée, Xander!"

"Ahh! Yes, that would make sense and also explain my presence. I must be some sort of family member, an older brother or—"

"Father," Xander finished for him.

A/N: Stay tuned ;)