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Author's Chapter Notes:
I had a lot of fun with this chapter! Hope you all like it!
Buffy slowly and reluctantly drifted back into consciousness. Morning already? Buffy thought, not quite ready to face a new day. She kept her eyes sealed tight, but familiarized herself with her surroundings. The bed was soft and warm, which made Buffy even less excited about leaving its comfort. She decided that she deserved a little more rest, and rolled over on her stomach, burying her face in her pillow.

That’s when the alarm went off.

Buffy flailed her arm off the side of the bed in an attempt to crush the damn thing, but to no avail. Groaning, she opened one eye to get a look at her device of torture, but the alarm clock wasn’t on her night stand. Great, I knocked it on the floor again.

Before she could search for the alarm, she heard something else. No, not something. Someone. And that someone was yawning.

Now wide awake and confused, Buffy slowly turned her head to the opposite side of the bed. A face was staring back at her.

“Mornin’ luv.”

In one fluid motion, Buffy leapt from the bed, pulling the fluffy comforter off with her and wrapping it around her body, as if the comforter could render her invisible. Now a safe distance away, an out of breath Buffy gazed upon the man she had shared her bed with. Her fear subsided and was replaced with disgust as she realized she had been bunking with Spike. “Oh God!” exclaimed Buffy, raising a hand to her mouth, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Spike reached to the night stand next to his side of the bed and turned off the screeching alarm clock. He then turned back to Buffy, furrowed his brow, and scooted from where he laid to the edge of her side of the bed. As he stood up, Buffy noticed he was shirtless, but was thankfully wearing some sort of pajama pants. “I think there’s some Wheat-a-bix in the pantry. Might help calm your stomach. Have a seat, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Spike ushered the stunned Slayer back to the bed before disappearing out of the room. Buffy sat there, unsure about what to do. She wanted to bolt out into the sunlight and away from the bleached vampire, but how would she explain Spike’s presence (and lack of shirt) to Dawn? To Willow? What if Xander finds out! But what happened, exactly? The last thing Buffy remembered was collapsing on her bed after a run in with a particularly nasty demon. She didn’t even remember changing clothes, let alone allowing Spike into her room! I am so going to dust him for this. He is gonna... wait a second.

Buffy allowed herself to examine the room a bit closer. It was different. Some of her things were missing. Mostly just accessories, but her dresser and desk were gone. In place of these pieces were new ones. Actually, the ‘new’ desk and dresser looked like antiques, made from exquisitely carved dark wood. The dresser was topped with several framed pictures, some of which were familiar to her: the one of her, Dawnie, and their mom; another of the Scoobies taken back in high school; Giles dressed in that ridiculous wizard costume that made him look like “Sorcerer Mickey” on steroids. But, there were a couple photos she didn’t recognize. Buffy walked over to get a better look.

“Huh?” Buffy picked up one of the mystery pictures and allowed her jaw to drop. Staring back at her was herself, smiling gleefully in the arms of a equally happy Spike. Buffy couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She abandoned the disturbing picture and reluctantly reached for the next unfamiliar snapshot.

This one was worse. “Oh, please, no!” cried Buffy as she turned away from the frame in her hands. Forcing herself to reexamine the picture, Buffy cringed as she saw herself wearing an ankle-length, white wedding dress, complete with an ornate train and lace veil. Photo-Buffy was grinning from ear to ear as a tuxedo-clad Spike was carefully removing the garter belt from Buffy’s thigh. Photoshop, right? Spike has finally mastered computers and created a sick little photo album to torture me! She returned the picture to the dresser, glancing fearfully at its neighbor. Another wedding photo. This one was a group shot. Buffy and Spike were standing in the center, with Buffy’s bride’s maids and Spike’s groom’s men on either side of the happy couple. Dawn was her Maid of Honor, joined by Willow, and Anya. The three girls looked lovely in simple pink gowns. She forced herself to examine the groomsmen next. Giles apparently played the role of Best Man, with Xander standing by his side. It was the third groomsman that unnerved Buffy. Angel?! There’s no way Angel would let such a wedding take place, let alone serve as a groomsman to Spike!

Buffy slammed the offending wedding picture face down on top of the dresser. Then her eyes fell to her left hand. There, on her ring finger, was a simple gold band. I’m in hell. That’s what this is, I was put in heaven by some glitch in the afterlife system and now I’m being tortured in hell!

Buffy turned from the dresser and fell to her knees, sticking her head underneath the bed. She searched the empty floor with her arm, “I’m fed up with this shit! Chip or no chip, I’m gonna kill him! Now, where is Mister Pointy?!”

“What are you doing?” The voice coming from the doorway startled Buffy, causing her to slam the her head on the bed above.

“Ow.” Buffy rubbed her newly injured head and was surprised to see her younger (but taller) sister standing in the doorway. “Dawn! Oh thank God! Something really weird is going on. Get Willow up and call Giles. Tell him to bring any books that’ll help me remember what happened last night. Oh! And did you show Spike how to use Photoshop? Because if you did I swear to –”

“Buffy!” interrupted Dawn, “Slow down, geez. Spike sent me up to tell you he couldn’t find the Wheat-a-bix, but, really, I think he ate the entire box again. Oh, and he’s making you toast instead.” Dawn paused long enough to examine the comforter still surrounding Buffy. “Why are you covered in bedding?”

Buffy just stood there, unsure of what to say about Spike’s apparent sleep-over.

Dawn rolled her eyes, “Fine, whatever. So you didn’t have time to dress after your night of hot, sweaty sex. All you had to do was say so.”

Buffy’s eyes widened in horror. “What?! No, there was no... at least I don’t think there was... no, definitely not! No hot, sweaty anything! Sleeping. Lots and lots of sleeping. Far, far away from each other. On the floor. Sleeping, that is! I was, um, on the floor... sleeping.”

“Buffy, my room is on the other side of the wall. Unless he was slamming your face against the headboard, you guys were –”

“STOP! Right now. Just, shhh!” Buffy shoved her fingers in her ears, trying to convince herself she was having a nightmare.

“What is wrong with you this morning?” asked Dawn, pulling Buffy’s hands away from her ears. “Did you and Spike have a fight? I hate it when you guys fight. Can’t you just skip all that annoying ‘mortal enemy’ banter and go right to the making up part for once? You guys drive me crazy with all the arguing!”

“Huh?” Buffy was afraid of what her sister might say next, but she had to know. “Dawn, um, Spike lives here?”

Dawn looked as if her sister had grown a second head, “What? Of course he does. It wouldn’t have made much since for the two of you to move in to his crypt after the wedding, now would it?”

Buffy’s felt the color drain from her face. “...I guess not.”

“You sure you’re ok?” Dawn asked with genuine concern in her voice.

“Uh, yeah. I just, I had a rough patrol last night.”

Dawn nodded, “Thought so.” She turned to leave the room, but spun around suddenly, adding, “You wanted me to call Giles for something?”

Buffy shook her head, “Never mind.”





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