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Willow was convinced she was seeing things.

Sure, Dawn had called and said that Buffy had returned, and there was the whole revival spell. But she didn't actually expect for it to work. She had hoped. She had dreamed. She had prayed to every deity known to mankind, but didn't expect it to actually turn out. It was wishful thinking. Fervent whispers in the night.

"I can't believe it," she breathed out, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Buffy's shoulders tightly. The blonde stiffened against her, and Willow awkwardly removed her arms, stepping back. "I'm sorry. I know you don't know me, but…I'm one of your best friends. We all are."

"So, it worked," Xander said, eyes bright. "You're back. I mean, sure, your memories are a bit wonky, but you're here!"

"They'll come back," Willow said. "You're probably just in shock from everything."

"Yeah, like from climbing out of her own grave," Spike muttered. Willow looked at him with wide eyes, but he shook his head for her not to press further. He already regretted saying that in front of Buffy; she had visibly paled. But honestly, they should have known better if they knew enough to do that spell. Instead, they did their hocus pocus and left her to dig out of her own grave.

"So, you're Willow," Buffy said. She turned toward the tall brunette male and diminutive blonde. "And you're Xander. And Anya."

"See, the memory's already getting a Buffster boost."

Buffy looked to the taller blonde beside Willow and bit the inside of her cheek. After a long pause the girl smiled kindly and said, "It's alright. I'm Tara."

Buffy nodded. "Willow. Xander. Anya. Tara."

"And Giles," Willow said suddenly. Buffy looked at her strangely. Honestly, where did they get these names?

"Who's Giles?" she asked.

"Oh, he's not here. But we should call him. I mean, he thinks you're…"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms over her chest.

"But we can call him later," Willow said, exchanging a look with Xander. "Maybe we can all have dinner together? You used to like this pizza place-"

"I think I'll just rest," Buffy said, playing with the hem of her shirt. "It's been a long day."

"Of course," Willow said, nodding quickly. "We'll, uh, just be down here."

Buffy glanced toward Spike before moving upstairs, and it occurred to him that she was asking him to follow. He back straightened, and he said, "Let's get you upstairs."

They walked side by side up the stairs, arms nearly touching. When they got into her room she sat heavily on the bed, eyes drifting closed.

"It's quiet," she said. "I didn't know you could miss the quiet."

"The Scoobies mean well," he said.

"They're all so eager," Buffy said. "Eager for me to remember. For their Buffy to return."

"You are their Buffy," he told her, although part of him wasn't so sure.

"What if I'm not? What if this is all I can be?"

Before he could stop himself he said, "It's still better than before."

She peered at him with a sort of inquisitiveness that made the back of his neck tingle. She looked so much like the old Buffy then that he half expected her to toss him a quip and a right hook.

"Why are you helping us? You're a vampire, so I should want to kill you. You should want to kill me."

"That's a story for another time, pet. You need your rest."

She stared at him for a moment before laying down on the bed and turning toward the window. He walked out of the room, and closed the door quietly. The Scoobies were assembled when he came downstairs.

"You want to tell me what you did, Red?" he asked in a low voice.

"It wasn't her time," Willow said in a shaky voice. "It wasn't right. And we needed her. All of us did."

"Well, thanks for letting me in on your little plan," he said smartly. "Afraid I'd get in the way?"

"No!" Willow said. "It wasn't that at all!"

"No need to spare my feelings, Red. I know the lot of you still don't trust me."

"We didn't even know if it would work," Willow said. "And even if it did, we weren't sure how it would work."

"That's still not a reason to keep me in the dark."

"If she came back wrong or different, we knew you wouldn't…"

"Wouldn't what?"

"You wouldn't let her die again," Tara said gently. "Even if it wasn't really Buffy. You would have fought for her."

"You shouldn't have played with this. Magic has a price."

"Who cares?" Xander snapped. "It brought Buffy back! What else matters? Would you rather we didn't do it and she was still six feet under?"

"No," Spike admitted. "I wouldn't. But, we need to be careful now. We need to be on alert."

"It's good though, right? That she's back?" Tara offered quietly.

He thought of her upstairs, curled in her bed, and allowed himself a soft grin. "Yeah. It is."

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There are men. Several of them, all clad in black, stalking through the green campus. They are in some sort of diamond formation, the one at the front leading them through the labyrinth of roads and buildings. He stops short, holding out a hand for the men to stop. There is some sort of device that he holds in his hand, and he looks down at it. A moment's pause, and his head whips up, scanning the area.

He juts his hand out toward the left, and then the men are off again. She struggles to keep up, wondering what exactly it is they're after. One looks back at her, and gestures for her to follow. When she looks down, she sees she is dressed in the same dark clothing.

They move forward quickly, and their target appears. She senses the vampire before he actually comes into view. It's a slight tingle up the back of her arms, and her entire body seems to thrum with energy. The vampire moves forward, and she inhales sharply when she recognizes the peroxide head. He's unaware of them, sauntering forward as if he owns the night. Before she can properly react, one of them men lifts his gun and shots. Blue lights danced around his body from the wires before he seizes and falls to the ground.

Buffy woke with a start, her breathing heavy. She tucked her hair behind her ears and murmured, "What in the world?"

She looked at the clock on the nightstand and sighed when she saw it was 2 in the morning. That dream had rendered her wide awake, and she climbed from bed, wiggling her toes in the thick carpet. She moved toward the door, but stopped when she sensed something outside. She went to the window and looked outside, surprised to see Spike standing under the tree with a cigarette burning in his hand. She quickly grabbed her housecoat from the desk and pulled it on, heading downstairs. She quietly slipped out the front door, drawing Spike's attention.

"Buffy-"

"Is it a habit of yours to keep vigil under my bedroom window? If so, I think this might be time for an explanation."

He chuckled. "No, I don't usually do this," he said. Silently he tacked on a "recently".

"Then why are you here?"

"Making sure the big bads are kept at bay. I was patrolling-" he caught her look of confusion and explained, "Hunting the bad guys. It's what you do at night, usually, but I figured I'd take over for a bit."

"Why don't you come inside? You can keep the big bads at bay there too, right? I bet it'd be more comfortable."

"I don't think the rest of your gang would like that."

"Well, it's my house isn't it?" she said. "And I hardly know the rest of my gang, so I say you come inside."

"Alright. If you don't mind."

He followed her into the house and asked, "What are you doing up, anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep. Bad dreams."

They settled on the couch and he turned an attentive gaze toward her.

"Dreams? What were they about?"

"It was nonsense," she said.

"You sure? Sometimes, your dreams used to be sort of prophetic. Showed things to come."

She thought of Spike collapsing onto the too-green-grass, and shook her head. Resolutely she said, "Well, this wasn't one of them."

"Alright. Well, keep us up to speed on any other dreams. They could mean something."

"I will."

They were quiet for a moment, and he asked, "So, what do you want to do?"

"Watch some TV?"

"Sure."

Spike turned on the television, and they watched the show in silence - the amnesiac Slayer and the vampire who loved her.





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