Title: Back Before Dawn
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Length: 18,300 words
Disclaimer: They're not mine and no profit is being made.
Summary: What if seasons 5-7 were actually a Wishverse?
AN: Takes place after the season 7 episode "First Date" but before "Get It Done".

Back Before Dawn

by

Part One - 8:31 am - Wednesday, February 19, 2003

"Get his yo-yo!" Willow yelled, grabbing at the little boy who deftly eluded her and slipped around to stand behind Buffy.

"Willow, what is wrong with you?" Buffy asked, her face tight and unamused. "I have enough problems without you acting like a lunatic and chasing little kids around."

"I told you, that's not a little kid! That's a centuries old vengeance demon masquerading as an eight year old, and he changed everything!" Willow again darted after the boy, chasing him into the kitchen where she finally made a flying leap to tackle him. As they hit the floor with a thump, a yo-yo fell out of his hand and rolled under the refrigerator.

"Willow! God!" Buffy said from the doorway, shocked. Willow crawled quickly over to the fridge and lay flat on the floor, reaching frantically underneath to try to find the toy. The little boy started crying loudly, and all the commotion seemed to have brought the whole house running. Soon Dawn, Xander, Giles, Spike, Andrew and a whole host of Potentials were staring at the scene playing out. Dawn moved to the boy's side.

"Um... there, there," she said, patting his shoulder. Willow suddenly pulled her arm out from under the fridge, covered in dust but triumphantly holding up a yellow plastic yo-yo with some kind of insignia on the side of it.

"Ah ha!" she said. "If I destroy your power center, things will go back to the way they were, right?" She looked around frantically, then made a quick motion towards the microwave. But Buffy was faster, and had grabbed her arm, twisted it, and taken possession of the toy before Willow had moved more than a step.

"Ow! Hey!" she said.

"Please, lady, don't break my yo-yo," the little boy said through his tears.

"Willow, honestly! You've been acting like a freak ever since yesterday afternoon. We don't have time for this kind of nonsense when we've got the First to fight and crazy demons who are trying to open the Seal of Danzig through dating Xander."

"The seal of what, now?" asked Willow, looking blank. Then her eyes widened. "Anya's trying to open a seal? An evil seal? Is that why she's not here?"

"Are you high?" Buffy asked, exasperated. Willow stared at her, completely thrown off balance. But Buffy looked like she was serious, and mad.

"Am I what? Buffy, you know I don't do drugs. It's me!"

"Not drugs, high on magic! God, Willow, I can smell the herbs all over you."

"High on magic? What? Buffy, that doesn't even make any sense, people don't get high on magic, magic is..."

"Willow, cut the B.S., all right? If you had a relapse into your addiction, we're all here for you, but don't try to pretend you don't know what we're talking about."

"What? Buffy...," Willow trailed off. "Look. Okay. I don't know what kind of weird stuff I've been into in this reality, but you have to believe me. All this is my fault. I made a wish, okay? I know I should have known better, but that little fiend..." She glared at the little boy, who had stopped crying and was doing an impressive big-eyed innocent look. "... tricked me. I didn't know vengeance demons could look like kids! And honestly," she said, addressing the little boy, "could you have possibly come up with a wackier way to grant the wish? I mean, monks? A hell-god? Isn't that a little ridiculous?"

"Please, lady, can I have my yo-yo back?" the kid asked Buffy, making his eyes even bigger, if that were possible, and adding an impressive lip-tremble.

"Oh, give me a break, like she'll buy that act," Willow said, rolling her eyes. Buffy glared and her and turned to the little boy.

"What's your name?" Buffy asked him.

"Joey," he replied.

"Well, I'm really sorry about this, Joey. My friend Willow has been having some problems lately. But here's your yo-yo." She held it out to him, and he reached to take it.

"Buffy! No!" Willow said, dismayed.

"Er... Buffy," said Giles. "Would you mind if I took a look at that for a moment? The design on the side is quite unusual. It's possible that the boy unknowingly found some kind of mystical object."

"I guess so," said Buffy, pulling the yo-yo back from Joey and handing it over to Giles. "But honestly, I don't see why we should waste any more time on this."

"Mister," said Joey quickly. "Can I have my yo-yo back now? I promise it's not magic or anything. I need it now and I have to get to school. So just give it back and I'll be on my way."

"You'll be on your way?" said Xander. "What are you, thirty-five?"

"I'm precocious," Joey shot back, glaring at him.

"He's a demon!" Willow said. "Oh! I know! Spike, punch him!"

"What?" said Spike, who had been leaning against the wall, looking bored. "I'm not punching some bloody pre-teen 'cause you've gone all loony tunes."

"No, no, see, 'cause if you can hit him, then he's a demon and that'll prove that I'm right! Like you did with Tara that one time, except the opposite." Spike looked uncomfortable.

"Well, I don't have the chip anymore, do I?"

"To my extreme dismay," muttered Giles, looking up from his examination of the yo-yo.

"I see that extreme dismay and raise you a consternation," said Xander.

"You guys, he has a soul now!" said Buffy. "He's not going to hurt anybody."

"Says you," muttered a Potential Willow didn't know, the only African-American one in the bunch.

"Can we stick to the point, here?" asked Willow. "We have to destroy that yo-yo and get the world back the way it was! Buffy, you're the Slayer, it's your job to fix things like this!"

"Yes, Willow, because it's my sacred calling to steal toys from children and then break them. God!" Buffy said, starting to get teary. "We're all about to die in an apocalypse and not only are none of you any help at all, but you have to make up stories about mystic yo-yos to make yourself feel better? The world is like this, Willow, it's hard and violent and cold. There isn't some alternate universe where things all wonderful and happy. God knows I wish there were. I wish I could go back in time and make everything better, but we're stuck here and we have to make the best of it, okay? Giles, give Joey his yo-yo back, and let's get back to trying to figure out how to save the world. Again."

"Actually," said Giles. "I believe Willow may be right about the nature of this, er, yo-yo. I'm sure I've seen this symbol before in one of my books. I'd prefer not to return it to this young man until I'm sure it's harmless."

"That won't be necessary," said Joey, his high voice suddenly sounding slightly menacing. "Just give it back. I'm going to be late for school."

"I'm terribly sorry," said Giles kindly, looking down at the boy. "We're going to have to hold onto your toy for now. Maybe you could come back after school to fetch it?"

"Maybe not," Joey growled, his face turning into a vein-y, vengeance demon mask as he leaped at Giles, knocking him to the ground. Everyone stared at the struggling pair for a second in shock, before Buffy, Spike and Xander all grabbed the tiny vengeance demon and pulled him off. Xander yanked the yo-yo from his hand and moved a good distance away from where "Joey" was struggling in Buffy's arms.

"Oof!" Buffy said, as his elbow connected with her stomach. "He's ridiculously strong for such a little kid."

"That's because I'm not a kid, you sniveling moron!" Joey said in a now deep and gravelly voice. He twisted and almost managed to get away before Buffy got a firmer hold on him.

"Can we tie him up somewhere?" Buffy asked.

"Basement?" suggested Spike, and he and Buffy wrestled little not-Joey down the stairs, yelling and kicking all the way, to fasten him into the manacles still on the wall. In the meantime, Willow and Xander helped Giles up. He rubbed his lower back.

"Are you okay?" Xander asked.

"I'm fine," said Giles distractedly, looking at Willow. "If a little confused. Would you like to explain exactly what's going on here?"

Part Two - Willow: Twenty-four hours earlier - 8:31 am, Tuesday, February 18, 2003

"Buffy, you can't go after that lamastu demon right now! I have to go to class and you said you'd finish cleaning for the shower this afternoon!" I said.

"I'll be back in time to get it all finished," Buffy said, getting a sword down from the wall where it was hanging and very nearly knocking over the tray of cucumber sandwiches I had gotten up early to make.

"No, you won't. You always say you will be, and you never are. That demon isn't even a threat to humans right now - it just ate last night, so it won't be hungry again until at least next week. So you can't wait, like, a day to go hunt it down?"

"The trail's fresh right now, Will. You know that. Besides, the party's not until this afternoon, and it's not like Olivia will really care if the place isn't completely spotless for her baby shower."

"She... Buffy! You promised."

"Seriously, Will. It'll be fine. See you later, okay?" Buffy said, and breezed out of the apartment the two of us shared. I sat on the sofa with a very pointed annoyed thump. This was so typical. Buffy was always so blase and happy that she just assumed things would get done, no problem. And she got way too excited when there was a demon around to kill. We'd all gotten so efficient at the slaying that you could hardly even tell Sunnydale was on a Hellmouth anymore. Well, okay, so it was mostly Buffy that was so efficient, especially since she got all in touch with the source of her Slayer power two years ago, but the rest of us had gotten awfully good too. We could research like a well-oiled machine, and I had scanned most of Giles's most important books into the computer and created a program that really sped things along. It was great! Except that sometimes Buffy would complain that Sunnydale was no fun anymore and that she got bored sitting around the cemetery and only slaying maybe one fledgling a night, if she were lucky. So she was talking about moving away after graduation to somewhere that had more demonic problems, like Cleveland. Somewhere she could kick some serious demon butt and have some variety. She joked about going on tour as the Slayer, like a rock star, traveling from place to place, defeating evil and making the world safe for humanity while looking really good and wearing leather pants. She said we could all come with - we could maybe get a van and drive from town to town, saving the innocent who would then gratefully give us money for gas, food, and kicky outfits.

Anyway, that's all well and good and it's great that Buffy's happy, but honestly, she could be a little more sensitive. Even if she is taking all easy classes in her last semester of college, I'm taking 20 hours worth, including my senior seminar, advanced programming, organic chemistry, and Sumerian, so I have things to do besides Buffy's chores, you know! It was just like Buffy to assume that I would do stuff, for I am Taken-For-Granted-Girl.

I put my stuff in my bag, making sure to slam it around a bit to make myself feel better. At times like these I really missed Tara the most. If she were here she'd let me vent, and then she'd help get everything done. Everything felt more doable when Tara was around. I got a little teary thinking about it - it was still so hard sometimes, even though it had been more than six months. Stupid Warren. I hope he's finding maximum-security prison very, very unpleasant in a "that big man made me his bitch" kind of way, that's all I have to say about that.

I decided I'd run by the Magic Box on my way to class, make sure Anya was still bringing food for the shower, and then grab some coffee at the place next door so that I wouldn't totally doze off in class. I hadn't been getting much sleep with all my schoolwork and planning this shower - I shouldn't have gotten all over-excited and volunteered to host it until I'd checked on my workload for this week. Note to self, I thought (ironically in light of future events), think before speaking.

I arrived at the Magic Box right as Giles was flipping the sign over from "Closed" to "Open."

"Hey Giles," I said. "I'm here to check on shower plans. Is Anya here?"

"I believe she's bringing up some stock from the basement," he said. "We've had a remarkable rush on frog tails this week - I'm going to have to order more today."

"Wow, I didn't know anyone used frog tails anymore. Toad warts are much cheaper and just as effective in most basic spells."

"Well, don't tell the customers - all this extra income is going into the baby's college trust fund," he said, smiling. I grinned.

"I still can't believe you're really going to be a dad!"

"Neither can I, really," said Giles. "I thought I'd be stuck playing father figure to a load of ungrateful twenty-somethings for the rest of my life."

"Ha, ha, ha. Besides, I'm sure little Giles, Junior will be just as ungrateful as we are."

"Bite your tongue," said Giles, grinning.

"So if you're our father figure, does that mean that Little Giles is going to be like our baby brother figure? You know, maybe you should be worried that Buffy's going to get jealous of the new baby and try to send him back to the hospital." Giles laughed.

"It actually had crossed my mind that I was glad the baby was a boy so that Buffy wouldn't feel like she was being supplanted, as ridiculous as that is. It really was a good thing Buffy was an only child - I don't know if she could have tolerated sharing the spotlight. But at your age, you lot are more like the baby's aunts and uncles than his brothers and sisters."

"That's true. So have you decided on a name yet?"

"Willow, for the last time, we're not telling anyone the name until the birth, so please stop hounding me."

"What if I guess it?"

"Willow."

"Trevor?" Giles just looked at me. "Nigel?" He rolled his eyes. "Crispin?"

"Crispin? Honestly, Willow, how British do you think I am?" Giles asked, exasperated. I gave him a look. "Don't answer that. Did you come here for a reason, or just decide to stop by to give me more gray hairs?"

"I said I was here for shower plans, if you were even listening to me earlier. I guess the mind really is the first thing to go," I teased, smiling. Giles gave me the stink-eye as Anya appeared behind the counter.

"Oh. Hello," said Anya, catching a glimpse of me. "Are you here to make me do more things for you? Not that I don't appreciate the extra work. I'm glad to participate in this charming ritual of welcoming a squalling, smelly infant into the world. Having babies is a large part of what makes our mortal lives worthwhile."

"Er... yes," I said. "I mean, no, I'm not going to make you do more work. I just wanted to make sure everything was going all right and you were still bringing the appetizers?"

"Yes. I've got chips and dip, and carrot sticks and fruit and a cheese log. See, it's really remarkable. It's shaped like a log, but it's made of cheese."

"That's perfect. Thanks, Anya."

Anyway, that was the gist of the conversation. After that we basically just said goodbye and I went off to class, like any normal day. It was advanced programming on Tuesday mornings, and I usually sat with Jonathan. We'd brainstorm new computer programs that could help the Scooby gang out with research or training, and we had come up with some really awesome stuff. Jonathan's been really cool ever since he testified against Warren over him killing Katrina and Tara. Jonathan felt really bad for a long time for being part of Warren's little team, and was really nervous around me, but I knew it wasn't really his fault and now we're buds, which is cool. It's nice to have a fellow computer geek around. So normally programming is fun, but today I started getting more and more stressed out, thinking about all the stuff I had to get done before the shower and getting more and more mad at Buffy for totally blowing me off to go kill that stupid demon. She'd probably come back all dripping in demon goo, too, and that stuff is, like, impossible to get out of upholstery. And believe me, I know - once it hardens, forget it.

So anyway, I was very peeved by the time class let out, and then I got even more peeved because I realized I had forgotten to pick up the big banner that says "It's a boy!" to hang on the back wall and that I'd have to go down to the party store, which is right by the Magic Box so I totally could have done it earlier if I had half a brain. So I bustled over there, all distracted and not watching where I was going, because, hello, spaz here. And I accidentally ran right into this little boy. Or what I thought was a little boy. And I dropped my books all over the place.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I said to the little twerp, feeling bad for smacking into him. There was some wasted sympathy.

"That's okay," he said, as I scrambled to pick up my stuff. My notes had blown everywhere, which was totally going to mess up my color coding system. "You seem kind of distracted. Is everything all right?"

"Oh, I guess so, I was just out of it 'cause I'm a little annoyed at my roommate," I said. And then, like a big giant idiot who doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut, I kept babbling, because that's what I do. "She's just really self-centered, you know? And that means I have to do everything." And then I thought about what Giles had said earlier and I made the mistake of using the W-word. "Sometimes I wish she wasn't an only child so that she wouldn't think that every day was National Buffy Day." And then I looked up and saw that the kid had turned all demon-y with a serious vein problem, and I gave a little shriek and jumped back.

"Done," he said.

"Whoops!" I thought. And then everything was different.

Part Three - Willow: 12:02 pm, Tuesday, February 18, 2003

I was still on the same street in Sunnydale, and everything looked pretty similar, but the little boy was gone. Vengeance demon, I thought, mentally hitting myself upside the head. Like I haven't heard Anya talking about all the men she'd disfigured enough times to be careful about who I made wishes to! What did I wish? That Buffy weren't an only child? Well, hey, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I mean, maybe now I'd go home and Buffy'd be cleaning up instead of dripping viscous fluids all over my stuff. That would be nice.

Oh, who am I kidding? Irony is the vengeance demon's specialty! I am so in big, big trouble. Order of business number one? Finding Giles. Good thing the Magic Box is right down the street. I started walking briskly towards it, but slowed when I got closer.

Because the Magic Box was all boarded up and the window was dusty. I put my face up to the glass to try to look inside and the place looked completely trashed, but like it had been that way for awhile, not just recently. What the...? Then where was Giles? Well, okay, maybe I could try to find Buffy, instead. So - off to our apartment.

I didn't seem to have a key to our place anymore, though, so I just knocked on the door. And Michael, the guy from our little coven-thingy from high school answered the door! Did I live with Michael in this new-fangled reality? He looked really surprised to see me, though, so I guessed not.

"Willow? Willow Rosenberg?" he said. Then he looked really nervous. "What... um, what are you doing here?" He sort of wasn't opening the door all the way.

"Michael! Hey!" I said. It was so cool to see him, I kind of forgot that everything was probably different here and just went into reunion mode. "How've you been? I haven't seen you in so long!"

"Um... fine, thanks," he said, still looking nervous. "You aren't... you didn't come by to kill me, did you?"

"I... what? No!" I was flabbergasted, is what I was. Why would I kill Michael? Why would I kill anybody, for that matter?

"Amy told me you killed that guy last year. And went all dark magic, tried to destroy the world and stuff."

"What? I did?" What on earth was going on here? Was Amy making up lies about me now? I mean, she's gotten all weird and kind of too into the dark mojo for my tastes, but I thought we were still kind of friendly-ish, you know? I did de-rat her, after all. Michael was looking at me nervously. Oh, duh, different reality. Wait, different reality! Did I kill a guy here?

"Yeah," he said. "Um... I was really sorry to hear about your girlfriend and everything." He still looked nervous. I nodded at him vaguely, my mind going about a million miles a minute on this whole new development.

"I... um... I think I better go now," I said. "Good, uh, catching up with you and everything." Michael nodded tightly and shut the door fast. I really don't get it. How would Buffy having a sibling end up making me kill somebody? And making me want to destroy the world? This just didn't make sense.

I was still standing staring at the door, all confused, when my cell-phone rang. Xander. Thank goodness. At least I hadn't killed him or anything in this wacked-out version of reality.

"Xander? Hey!" I said.

"Will, where are you? You're like twenty minutes late for our lunch date." D'oh!

"Xander, I'm so sorry. Um... something kind of came up. Remind me where I was supposed to meet you?"

"At Los Burritos Gigantes on Third Street. Is everything okay?"

"Um... yeah, sure. I'll tell you when I get there. Ten minutes, all right?" I started walking as fast as I could. Boy, did I need to talk to Xander.

"Yeah. Hey, am I supposed to pick up Don and Amanda from school today?" Who the heck were Don and Amanda? Oh! Does Buffy have a brother and a sister now, since she's not an only child anymore?

"Don and Amanda?"

"Yeah, you remember Don, dark hair, about 16, also answers to 'Buffy's little sister?'" Sister? What the... oh, not Don, Dawn! I get it. "And Amanda," Xander continued, "the newest member of our household, 'cause before we just didn't have enough teenage girls sleeping on the floor of the Summers house."

"Ha ha. Yeah, right, of course. Heh. Just, uh, kidding around with you. Making with the jokes." Why are there teenage girls sleeping on the floor of the Summers house? Just how many sisters does Buffy have now?

"Willow, you sound really weird - are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, sure, fine, no problem. I'll see you in a couple minutes."

"All right. Don't wig out on me," he said.

"No wig here. Completely wigless. See you soon."

"'Kay. 'Bye."

Curiouser and curiouser. I have got to figure out what the heck I did to the world, and whether it's reversible. I hope they don't like Buffy's sister (or sisters?) too much, 'cause otherwise they might have a hard time wiping her out of existence. I mean, I'm going to try to get Xander and everybody's help, but if they love the kid, I might just have to do it all myself, you know? Holy crap, this is bad. I didn't really kill somebody, did I? I hope undoing this spell is easy, because I'd really rather not be a murderer. I know, hard to believe, right? I'm funny that way.

Part Four - Xander: 12:24 pm, Tuesday, February 18, 2003

Willow better get here soon - I've only got an hour for lunch, and time's a-wastin'. Not that it really matters if I lose my job, since the world's probably going to end soon and all, but I'd still like to go out as a productive member of society.

Just kidding. I mean, I probably really will need the job, since Buffy's going to save us in the end, right? It's not like she hasn't before. In Buffy I trust.

Yup, everything will be a-okay - move along, people, nothing to see here. Buffy will keep the world from ending and we'll all live to fight another apocalypse. And another one after that, and another one after that, and another one after that....

Frankly, I'm getting a little sick of the apocalypse as far as disasters go. Sunnydale couldn't get, I don't know, a little tornado or maybe some flooding from time to time? Just to mix it up. Instead of, "Oh no, an incorporeal eternal Evil is mobilizing to destroy us and all we hold dear," you could say, "Oh no, the basement's filling up with water again. I better move my collection of comic books before they get damaged." I mean, if you had comic books, that is. Which I don't.

I might be a little more okay with the whole apocalypse thing if I had superpowers like everyone else. I guess you'd think I'd be used to it by now, and I mostly am, but sometimes I just get tired of being the guy who fixes the windows. Buffy's panicky and worried and complaining about how none of us are helpful enough, and I just wish I could do something amazing. Shoot lightning bolts out of my eyes or leap tall buildings with a single bound or something. Something so Buffy wouldn't look so worried, so she could depend on me instead of having to rescue me from my date. Again.

I used to tell myself that it was okay to be normal guy, that I was pretty good at being normal guy. Except I'm really not. I suck at being normal guy. I was going to get married, someday have kids and stuff, all normal (even if I was getting married to an ex-demon, much emphasis on the ex). And then I screwed it up, like I always screw things up. I've got all these stupid issues and I don't even have time to deal with them 'cause I'm always trying to help out with saving the world. Not that they even need me - I mean, I have delusions that I'm doing some good for the world, that I'm an important part of the team, but really I'm the one who needs rescuing every five minutes. I mean, it's just sad.

Maybe I should move. It's not like Buffy needs me, or really wants me here. I think she'd be relieved if I weren't around for her to have to protect all the time. It might be better if I were just out of the way.

But I couldn't leave Willow. Or Dawn. But Willow especially. I love her, you know? Like I said in the yellow-crayon speech - hey, there was one time I wasn't useless. One time out of, like, seven million, but still, hey, I saved the world. Maybe only to be destroyed again this year, but at least Willow won't be the one to do it. That's something. I've gotta look out for Willow.

Willow. I love her, but I don't understand her anymore. I used to just get her, and she got me, no effort about it at all. But now... well, maybe it's just enough that I love her. I loved the old Willow, and I love the new, depressed, guilty, beaten down Willow, too. But it makes me sad. Sometimes I get out my pictures of her and Buffy and me from high school, back when we were so damn happy - or at least now it seems happy in comparison, and I just want to cry. Her and Buffy these days, they're just... well, it makes me sad, what we're all like now.

I feel especially bad for Dawn. Her mom dies, her dad's out of the picture, her older sister dies, then comes back and hardly seems to be able to look at her, even. She shouldn't have to be raised by a bunch of people who've all seen too much and hardly have any love left in them. Poor kid.

"Xander," I heard from behind me in Willow's voice. But it was a much more chipper version of Willow's voice than I'd heard in quite awhile. I turned to see her walking towards me, with a spring in her step and everything. This was odd.

"Hey, Will," I said, as she slipped into the seat across from me. I stared at her. She looked so different, it was weird.

"Did you cut your hair or something?" I asked her.

"What? Um, I don't think so," she said. "At least, not in the last half hour." She was staring at me all funny, like she hadn't seen me in a really long time, or like she was trying to figure out who I reminded her of. I think I was staring at her like that too, 'cause it was Willow, but like this totally new version of Willow. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

I guess she just looked... happy. Or not even, 'cause at the moment she actually looked kind of worried and a little freaked out. But her face looked like that wasn't her normal state of being, if that makes sense. Like her default setting was happy and right now she happened to be in worried, but it wasn't the permanent worry-guilt lines that had shaped Willow's face for the past couple of years.

The waiter set our food down at this moment and Willow looked pleasantly surprised. "Hey, thanks, Xander! This is my favorite!" she said as he put the veggie burrito down in front of her.

"Of course it is, you always get it when we come here," I said, bemused. I thought she'd assume that I'd go ahead and order her usual when she was so late.

"Right, um, of course I do," she said. She was still looking at me all funny, so that I was starting to wonder if I had something on my face.

"Are you okay, Xander?" she asked, sounding really concerned.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine, why?" I said. She must've asked 'cause I was staring at her like a goon, because I felt fine, pretty much. Nothing bad had happened lately, and my cuts from that stupid demon girl had pretty much healed. So yeah, nothing to complain about.

"You just look... I don't know. Weird. Sad, or something."

"Nope, I'm fine, really. Well, except I'm a little worried about Dawn, I guess. Do you think she's doing okay? She was pretty shaken up over that whole 'Is she a potential or isn't she?' thing last month."

"Um... yes. Yes, she was."

"I worry about her with Buffy so busy in the whole struggle against the First. I'm really afraid that Dawn's going to keep feeling like she doesn't matter."

"Yeah... oh, me too, yeah."

"I love that kid so much. I hope she knows that. And knows that Buffy loves her too. Even if Buffy's a little cold sometimes, or distant or preoccupied. " The whole time I had been talking about Dawn, Willow was looking really weird. "Will? You okay there?"

"Um... yeah. Xander, I kind of have something big to tell you. I... well, I mean... okay. What would you think if I told you that Dawn wasn't real? That Buffy was really an only child?"

"Um, I'd probably say 'duh.' What are you talking about?"

"What? You know Dawn isn't real?"

"Of course I do. We all do. I mean, she was the Key and monks changed all our memories so they'd include her. Willow, you know all this - are you okay? What's going on?"

"Wait, so it doesn't bother you that Dawn isn't really real?"

"Of course not. I mean, sometimes it's a little weird when you remember something and then realize that she wasn't actually there for that, but I usually don't think about it too much. Seriously, Willow, what happened? Did you hit your head or get an amnesia spell put on you or something?"

"No, I... Xander, I did something really stupid. I think I made the whole world different, and I think it's bad."

"Well, it can't be that bad, 'cause hey, everything's still here. Seems the same as it did this morning to me."

"No, but... okay, well, the Magic Box is trashed, for one thing."

"Um, Will, the Magic Box has been trashed ever since the summer, when you, you know, trashed it." I was really worrying about her forgetting all this stuff. What happened?

"I trashed it? No, really, things didn't happen this way. I made a wish and I think it created Dawn and now everything's terrible and we have to reverse it!"

"Will, what are you talking about? You're not even making sense. Maybe we should get you to a doctor or something, seriously, this is bad."

"No, no doctor, I'm okay...." She sighed and seemed to think for a second. "Um... you know what? I think you're right, it's all coming back to me now. I was, um, walking down the street and, um, ran into, um, Amy, yeah! And I think she put an amnesia spell on me as, um, a practical joke. Yup, that's what happened. No worries, I love Dawn too and everything's great." Amy had done WHAT? That bitch. Just when Willow was doing so well with dealing with her magic and everything.

"Amy put a spell on you? Will, that's horrible! Are you okay? I can't believe that bitch won't just leave you alone, already. Trying to suck you back into that."

"What? No! It was just a little joke, Xander, don't worry about it. I'm remembering stuff now. And I think it only affected some of my memories. Like, um, just since Dawn appeared or thereabouts. When was that, exactly?"

"Well, sometime around two years ago, I guess. It's hard to pinpoint exactly, but around when Glory showed up, I guess."

"Glory? What... um, you know what? Yeah, that's about when things start getting kind of fuzzy. But it's coming back now, so don't worry."

"Okay, but I really think you should go home and lie down or something until you get back to normal - who knows what that spell's side-effects might be, right? Not that it'll be quiet over at command central, but you can at least lie down and people will be there to keep an eye on you."

"Um... command central?"

"Oh, Will, you're really out of it, aren't you?" I ended up having to explain to her about everyone being at the Summers house, and how she'd lived there since Buffy died - she seemed really surprised about that - and about the First Evil and the Potentials. Goddamn Amy - like Willow needs some shot of bad magic at a time like this. Though she looked so much better today. Of course, maybe that was a side effect of the forgetting - sometimes I wouldn't mind having amnesia about the last two years myself.

"Okay, Will? I gotta get back to work. Are you going to be okay? Do you want a ride back to the house?"

"Sure," she said. "Can I use the bathroom really fast first?"

"Okay," I said. "I'm gonna just call Buffy and see if we're still on for patrolling tonight."

"Why don't you just wait 'til you see her at the house?"

"She's at work, Will." Willow looked blank. "At the high school?"

"But we blew that up," she said.

"Look, I'll explain in the car. Go use the bathroom, okay?" I got out my cell and dialed up Buffy's office. I was seriously worried about Willow - I hoped she was right about that spell wearing off.

Part Five - Buffy: 12:58 pm, Tuesday, February 18, 2003

I hung up the phone after talking to Xander about patrolling with the Potentials. I don't really like bringing him along, 'cause I always feel like he's going to get himself hurt somehow, but he thought that as an average guy he could help the Potentials out on what they could do without super-strength, so I went along with it.

He also said something about Willow and a spell, but said I shouldn't worry about it, so I won't. I'm sure Willow will be just fine - I mean, she always ends up okay when she does the magic, it's the rest of us who get screwed over. Raised from the dead, thrown around the Magic Box, having their little sisters mad at them for getting the sister's arm broken even though they really had nothing to do with it.

Oh God. I am such a bitch. She said she was sorry and she IS sorry, and I just can't let go of it. I try to, I give myself little lectures on the value of forgiveness, but then I see her and I get pissed again. I don't want to be this way.

I don't know when I started hating my friends, exactly. After they pulled me out of heaven, I guess. I don't know. Maybe it was before that, even. It didn't use to be hard to like them, you know? Willow was the best friend a girl could ask for, and Xander was so funny and loyal, and Giles was, like, the perfect father figure. I trusted all of them and they trusted me. Sure, there were bad times, like when I hid Angel's being back from hell from all of them, but we always worked it out.

Not like now, where I don't feel like I can rely on them at all. They dragged me back to earth when I was finished, complete and happy, because they needed me so much. And then they kept needing me, all the time, like they were giant stones hanging around my neck - needing me to save them, let them live in my house, pay the mortgage. And Giles, the one I could rely on, the one who could maybe take care of me, help me be a grownup, left me, right when I needed him the most.

And then there was Spike. The one person who didn't need me, who I wasn't responsible for, who didn't leave me or bring me back. The one person I could talk to, who I could be alone with, who I could be myself with. Even if myself wasn't very happy or heroic or bright. I always felt like I was valuable and good enough when he'd look at me in that certain way. Sometimes it'd make me want to cry, how he'd look at me. Because no one ever thought I was good enough, just the way I was, just Buffy.

Actually, I guess in some ways Spike needed me too - sometimes the way he loved was like a bulldozer, knocking over everything in its path without thinking about consequences. But him needing me didn't feel like the dead weight the others did - maybe because I didn't feel like I had to do what he needed.

It was kind of good, me and Spike, back in the early days after I came back, when I'd use to just go hang out at his crypt and we'd talk. Or just watch TV or whatever. I shouldn't have starting sleeping with him, though. Not that the sex was bad - 'cause hoo boy, was it ever not bad - but I wasn't doing it because of him, I was doing it because it felt nice to be loved, loved in that crazy, stupid way Spike has where nothing else matters in the world except you. And because I could treat Spike like crap and still imagine that I was sort of a good person. All that anger and nowhere to go with it, nothing to do with it but beat it into Spike's face. Things were bad. I'm sorry I did that now - I don't know if I ever told him that, but I'm sorry.

It's funny - Spike I still care about, still want to make things right with, even though he tried to rape me. But the rest of them, who'd been my friends for so long and who didn't do anything quite that bad to me, I just don't know about. For some reason me and Spike feels more fixable than me and Willow or me and Giles. Maybe because I felt less betrayed with Spike. With him, things have always been a big sordid mess and I expected as much - I mean, we tried to kill each other for years before we got friendly, and even our sleeping together was almost as much violence as love. Not to excuse what he did - but it's not like it was a huge surprise, either. Whereas Willow trying to kill me, after we'd been friends so long - that was a surprise. And Giles leaving. The people I'd trusted hurting me, that's worse. I can't go back to loving them like I used to.

I know I'm getting to be a little unreasonable about Spike, but I'm so mad at the rest of them. And I feel like I have to protect him from them, since they all mostly hate him, won't give him a chance. It doesn't help things at all that they don't understand why I was with him. And I don't want to explain it to them, 'cause I don't want them to know that I'm not the great hero who's going to save the day. I don't want them to know that I'm just stupid and scared, and deep down not a nice person, not a good person even. That I could identify more with soulless Spike than the weird, quiet soulled version I got back this year. I almost wish he hadn't done it, hadn't gotten that soul for me - I knew the old Spike, understood him, sort of. And if Spike and I were alike last year, but now he got a soul, what does that mean about me? Is there someplace I could go to get mine back? Because most of the time I feel more like a big, embodied ball of hate than like a person, and I don't know what to do about it.

I should start by fixing things with Giles and Xander and Willow. They were always what held me back from being just a killer, kept me human. But I can't stand being around any of them any more, much less trust them. I just can't. And I don't think I can forgive them either. I've tried! Over and over again I've tried.

And even if I could forgive them, I don't think they could forgive me. Not if they really knew all the stuff I thought, what was really inside me.

I think I'm broken.

**********

I finished out the school day, doing my counseling thing, talking to one kid about drug issues and another about her parent's divorce, before I had to head back to the Summers Home for Lost Girls. God, I hate that place. One good thing about my counseling job is that it keeps me out of there for a good chunk of the day - I think I'd go crazy if I had to referee one more argument over who used up all the hot water this time. And it's funny how, even though there are girls crammed into every spare inch of that house, it can still feel empty without Mom.

The second I walked through the door, Willow ran up and accosted me.

"Hey Buffy, have you seen Anya? I really need to talk to her."

"Anya? Nope, haven't seen her - she's not here?" I responded, hanging up my coat.

"No, and no one seems to know where she is. Do you have any idea where she goes when she's not here?"

"You know, I've never asked," I said. Huh. That's funny, it's never occurred to me to ask Anya what she does all the time. "Anyway, you'd know as well as I would. Maybe she's off with some of her demon friends or something." Willow looked exasperated.

"It's like no one in this house even talks to each other," she said.

"We talk sometimes," I said, defensively. "Anyway, have you seen Giles? I need to ask him about the latest Potential."

"I think he's in the kitchen," she said. Then she looked at me closely. "Buffy, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I said.

"Are you happy?" she asked, looking like she really wanted to know. I kind of shrugged, not knowing what to say to that. I mean, of course I'm not - we usually just don't talk about it.

"I dunno, Will, are you?" She shrugged.

"I don't know. It just seems like... well, like if things were different, maybe we would be happy. Like we used to be?"

"Maybe," I said. "But things aren't different. They're like this." She shrugged, looking pained. "I'm going to go find Giles," I said, and walked into the kitchen.

Part Six - Giles: 3:36 pm, Tuesday, February 18, 2003

I was making tea when Buffy came to find me, looking tired, with Willow trailing behind her looking different in a way I couldn't define. Buffy had a quick conversation with me about the Potential I'd found most recently, then went to gather the girls for a training session. She's nearly always brief and business-like when we talk these days - I think she's still angry with me for leaving her to go to England. Buffy doesn't forgive easily.

Willow lingered, though, looking at me thoughtfully.

"Would you like some tea?" I asked her.

"Sure," she said. She took the mug I handed her gratefully, settling on one of the stools at the counter. "Hey Giles, whatever happened with you and Olivia?" she asked. Well, where on earth had that come from?

"Olivia?" I asked. "Nothing, really. We rather drifted apart - things in my life were a bit too, ah, dangerous for her liking, I suppose."

"But didn't you ever think of asking her to move here? Settling down, maybe?"

"Well... I suppose I may have thought about it once or twice. She was going to come visit shortly after Joyce died... but then Glory became such a threat I told her not to. And after Buffy died... well, I wasn't thinking much about Olivia, I suppose. I don't blame her for not wanting to be around that any longer."

"Oh, Giles."

"All in the past. What on earth makes you think of it now?"

"Oh, nothing, I was just... thinking about stuff, is all. Um, also, I kind of need to do some research. Do we have any books here on vengeance demons?"

"Well, there's not much left of my library, but you might try checking Black's Dictionary of the Demonic and Otherworldly. Asking Anya would probably be a much more efficient way of gathering information on that subject, however."

"I know, but no one knows where she is."

"Really? Well, sometimes she does seem to need a break from the house. Not that one blames her. She'll probably return in the next day or so."

"Well, I guess I'll stick with the books until she gets back. Also, I was wondering if I could look at your Watcher Diaries?"

"Whatever for?"

"Um... I just wanted to look at all the stuff that's happened in the last two years, see if I pick up any patterns that may, um, be related, uh, to the First. You know."

"Well, I don't know if you'll find anything, but you're welcome to look. Do you also think that vengeance demons may be related to the First?"

"Huh? Um... well, maybe. I just want to, sort of, check on their powers, that sort of thing. See if maybe they could help us combat the First. I think."

"Well, good luck to you. I suppose any avenues of thought are worth pursuing at this point."

"Thanks, Giles." We chatted for a bit longer before she headed off to check on the books.

For some reason the way Willow looked today made me think of the old days when the children and I spent all our time holed up in the high school library. At the time it seemed like they were always going through an unfortunate amount of pain, between the monsters and their romantic heartaches, but looking back on it now, those days seem almost idyllic. Never say that seven years on a Hellmouth won't warp your perception of reality. But they were always such a cheerful group, despite all their brushes with death. I believe they used to think me something of a stick-in-the-mud, but I rather enjoyed their high spirits. Made me feel young myself.

I don't feel young anymore. My joints ache more often than I'd like to admit, and a night out patrolling hurts like the devil the next morning. And the world weighs heavily on me. No wife, no children, and the ones in whom I invested so much, loved as my own, are grown and have no use for me. I shouldn't have left them, I suppose, but I couldn't have stayed either. Perhaps I would have lost them even if I had stayed - we all seem to be on a course of self-destruction, and I don't see how we can stop it. This apocalypse may very well be the one that takes. In the past we always seemed to overcome evil by working together as a group, but I can't imagine that happening now. We may all live in one house, but we are alone, alone, alone.

I was so happy to have Buffy back, alive again, but perhaps there are worse things than death. Perhaps Slayers die young for a reason, so the darkness doesn't overtake them. Buffy seems to lose more of her humanity every week. I wish I could talk to her, help her, but she clearly doesn't respect my judgment any longer. Perhaps that is deserved. But I worry very much about her, about the way she treats the others, and especially about her relationship with Spike. She cannot see clearly where he is concerned, and it endangers us all.

I want so much to solve things for the children, make their lives better, let them rest. Ironic, since I left to force them to solve things for themselves, isn't it? And now it it's too late for me to help them - I have abdicated that role in their lives. And even if they still relied on me, their pain seems to be fixed, immutable. Perhaps death is all we have to look forward to in the end.

Until then, life must go on. And speaking of life, I believe my laundry is finished. I hope Spike isn't in the basement at the moment, as it irks me to see him in this household. And I must say, the soul hasn't made him any less exasperating.

Part Seven - Spike: 6:38 pm, Tuesday, February 18, 2003

Rupert seemed irritable when he came downstairs earlier, but then he nearly always seems irritable these days. And he doesn't like me much, not that it bothers me. I did use to like it when he watched "Passions" with me, and the bloke does have an amazing music collection, but with that bloody enormous pole up his ass, who needs him?

Was reading _The Great Gatsby_ over again, trying to avoid the sodding three ring circus always in progress upstairs. If I'm not reading I find that I end up brooding like the hideous poofter, and the similarities between us are already embarrassing enough. Don't need to add furrows that match the ones on his gargantuan brow.

Of course, if I hear anyone headed towards the basement stairs I immediately shove the book under the covers, pull off my shirt and try to arrange the sheet over myself artistically, as if all I do all day is lounge about looking provocative. I've got a reputation to uphold, after all.

Gatsby is one of my favorites. Fitzgerald knew what life was about, even if he were an enormous ass in person (should've let Dru rip his windpipe out after all). It's all about self-invention. Decide who you're going to be, be that person, and pretty soon even you'll start believing it. Which is when the fun kicks in. Take me, for instance. Back when I was alive, I was a nancy-boy ponce who spent all his time fretting about what he wanted to do instead of just doing it, all thought, no action - full of squelched desires and frustration that erupted into poetic rubbish. When Drusilla turned me, it was the beginning of a whole new existence, and I took full advantage of that fact. William was dead and buried and Spike rose from his ashes. Figurative ashes, of course. Cremation doesn't go over well with vampires.

You'd be surprised how easy it was to become the exact opposite of William. Every time I felt the urge to start thinking too much or, heaven forbid, write poetry, I'd go out and kill something. Reflection and introspection were out - impulsivity and self-gratification were in. If I wanted to fuck something, I fucked it, wanted to eat something, I ate it, wanted to take something I took it, and so on. Used to be full of self-loathing, but now I never sat still long enough to brood on what I thought of myself. It was beautiful, really - I'd recommend it.

'Course there are some things so deeply ingrained as to be unchangeable. Became the opposite of William in every way - but I'm still love's bitch. Can't change that, no matter what I am - whether I'm a human, vamp, chipped vamp, chipped with soul, soulled but chipless, you name it, I'm following after Cecily or Drusilla or Buffy like a little puppy dog waiting to be kicked. Never been ashamed of that. Maybe it's not a good quality, I don't know, but it's what I am. Bit of an embarrassment for a vampire, being all soft over a girl, too human and that, but I don't mind. Always gotten a good deal of enjoyment out of human things and don't see why I should give that up. So what if I like football and soaps and crunchy things in my blood? Or if I happen to fall in love with the Slayer... well, one could argue that that wasn't the best idea I've ever had, but it's not like I could help it.

Buffy, now. Buffy. Her name's like this mantra these days, filling up the empty spaces in my thoughts. Buffy. I'll be reading along in my book and then find myself just staring into space with her name echoing through my head, over and over, feeling a mix of happiness and anguish and fear. She's always brought me mixed feelings, and along with those, compulsions, need. Used to pace by her house ten times a night to see if her light was on, stand in her yard smoking and watching, wanting to be near her. I'd take whatever she'd give me, scrambling after any crumbs of affection that she might accidentally drop.

Knew she didn't love me, didn't like me, even. Knew that I might as well have been a blow-up doll for her, one that doubled as a punching bag. Couldn't stop it, for all that. I just wanted her so badly, tried to make myself believe that she wanted me too, needed me, that I gave her something no one else could, somehow.

Then I... in the bathroom. Hurt her. Like that. I was always talking about how evil I was, like it was something to be proud of, but afterwards... that was the moment I felt it. That I really was an evil, soulless thing who never deserved her. Never thought I'd agree with Harris, but there it was. Had to get out of there, had to fix it, get myself changed somehow. So I did. And then, with the soul firmly in place, I knew how bad it really had been, how I had just kept pulling her down, trying to make her as dark and evil as I was myself. Saw how awful I'd made it for her, and how I'd better clear off, leave her alone.

But I couldn't stay away. Justified it by thinking that I needed to help them fight evil, keep the world from ending, but really, it's just that I need to be near her. Can't help it. Be the death of me in the end, I'm sure, but nothing I can do.

Problem is, I've come to the end of self-invention. I can't be William, I'm afraid to be Spike, and I bloody refuse to be Angel. Another fine mess I've gotten me into - didn't fully think through the soul thing, as usual. Only thing I know is that I'll be whatever she wants me to be - which is a problem, since Buffy never knows what she wants. Everything real about her's buried under a shell of God knows what, and I don't know how to break through it. I mean, I tried assault - no bloody idea why that brilliant plan didn't work. Should've cultivated the patience for a more sophisticated approach, but, well, hundred and twenty years being Spike didn't really give me a leg up in that respect.

I'm terrified that what she wants is Angel.

Bloody hell, am I brooding? Goddamn bloody fucking basement, nothing to do but listen to the leaky pipe drip and mull over past sins - well, fuck this. Not my night for patrolling, but sun's down and I'm going out.

Buffy and her boy Harris had already taken the Junior Misses out for a graveyard spin, so the house was strangely quiet. Poked my head into the dining room, where Red had books spread all over the place and was deep in research mode, to tell her I was going out for the evening. Soul's made me all responsible-like, letting people know where they can find me. Pathetic, isn't it? Red looked up, startled, then looked like she'd been waiting for me to show up her whole life.

"Spike! Hey, can I ask you some questions?"

"S'pose so, if it's quick." I hovered in the doorway, but she gestured at the chair next to her.

"C'mon, sit down." I reluctantly sat, sprawling to make myself look as cool and uninvolved as possible.

"You look happy, Red, I must say. You and JFK have a little tumble before dinner?" She looked very blank.

"Who?"

"Kennedy? The Potential? C'mon, you can't think I haven't noticed you two with the doe eyes and the hand-holding under the table."

"Oh! Is that why that annoying girl keeps following... um, right, Kennedy, um, no, no 'tumble.' Can't a girl just be cheerful without everyone feeling the need to make lewd comments?"

"Um... right," I said. The Wiccan Wonder seems off her game tonight. Wonder what that's all about? "So what did you want to ask me?"

"I'm just... well, I'm working on a spell, okay? And I need some information on, um, the relationships between all the Scoobs, 'cause, um, that can affect how the spell works."

"A spell, eh? Back to hitting the sage?"

"What?" She looked blank again. I sighed. This bloody useless conversation was holding me up from either a nice spot of violence or a game of kitten poker, whichever I could find first, and the sooner the crazy talk was over, the sooner I could get going.

"Whatever. What did you want to know?"

"Well, about you and Buffy. You're... not together now?"

"No," I said. "No need to worry, I'm leaving your princess be."

"Hey, no judgment was implied in any way, so put a lid on the hostility, mister."

"Sorry," I said automatically, then glared as I realized she'd made me apologize. Red can be authoritative when she wants to be.

"But you were together last year?"

"Yeah," I said. Less said about all this, the better.

"Before you had a soul?"

"Uh... yeah, last year was, in fact, before I had a soul. You mental?"

"Just clarifying for the spell, no need to get touchy. Now, just out of curiosity... do you think that maybe if you'd gotten the soul before you'd gotten together, you might've made it work?"

"What? Oh, like her and the fucking great poof? I don't know. Maybe. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"Hey, I don't write the questions, I just read them off, and watch the language, bub. So are you still in love with her?"

"That's really none of your business, and what do you mean you don't write the questions? You're trying to convince me that there's a spell that tells you to ask me highly specific hypothetical questions about my love life?" I was getting very annoyed.

"Spike, do you want to defeat the First or not?"

"Oh, fine. Yes. Okay? Yes. I'm still in love with her. Are we done here?" Red looked satisfied.

"Yup."

"Fine," I said, standing up and stalking off in a huff. Red smiled to herself and went back to her books. Bitch.

I really needed to kill something.

Part Eight - Andrew: 5:11 am, Wednesday, February 19, 2003

I was making myself some warm milk when Spike came staggering through the back door. He smelled like he'd been drinking all night and was covered in some kind of weird mucus-y stuff. It's funny how some people can still be, like, really hot, even when they're all gooey.

"Hey Spike!" I said to him. He seemed like he was in a pretty good mood, really energetic. "You have a good night?"

"Not bad, yeah," he said, nodding to me. "What're you doing up this time of night?" See, the cool thing about Spike is, he might be a super-neat-o vampire with a soul and everything, but he still cares.

"Oh, I kind of had a nightmare. But I'm making myself warm milk to get back to sleep. You want any?"

"Er, no thanks, I'll leave you to it," he said, starting to leave. Then he poked his head back into the kitchen. "By the way, you have any ideas of how to get this gunk off me? Took out a Sokisba demon earlier and I think I got internal organs all over myself."

"Hmmm... well, you might want to try hosing yourself down to get most of it off, then I'd recommend Downy Stain Stick for the worst of it on your clothes."

"Hose myself down?" He was looking at me like I was crazy.

"Well, sure. I could help you if you want."

"No, that's all right," he said, giving me a weird look. "I'll do it myself, thanks." He headed back out the door. I heard him turn the water on, then he yelped really loud. It was kind of a girly scream, actually.

"It might be a little cold!" I called out to him.

"Yeah, thanks a bloody lot for the warning, mate."

"No problem!" A potential opened the window upstairs and yelled at us to be quiet, though, so I just went back to my warm milk.

I know, you might not think that super-villains like me would drink warm milk, but it really helps. Actually, we super-villains probably need it more than other people do, even. You know how people sometimes say "How do you sleep at night?" to people they think are, I dunno, oppressing the poor or selling out their artistry for money or stuff like that? People who do bad things? Well, they kind of have a point. About the not being able to sleep. Actually, Buffy said that to me the other day, she was like "You killed your best friend! How do you sleep at night?" I guess she hasn't realized that the reason we're always out of milk is that I wake up, like, every single night and can't go back to sleep until I have some.

I try not to think too much about that, though. Focus on the present, that's what I say, and after all, now I'm a good guy seeking redemption. I like living in Buffy's house. There's always people around, and most of the Potential Slayers think that it's pretty cool that I was Buffy's arch-nemesis all last year. And it's nice to be part of Buffy's team of Superfriends, even if they do tell me to shut up an awful lot. I'm used to that, though, it kind of makes me feel at home.

Spike came stalking back through the kitchen from the backyard, all wet, with his shirt off, and went down to the basement without saying anything to me.

He has really nice abs. I wonder how he keeps in shape when he's living in Buffy's basement all the time? Maybe he does chin-ups on some of the pipes down there. Xander'll be pissed if he finds out about that, because he's getting really annoyed about having to fix stuff in the house all the time. I broke the coffee-pot by accident last week and Xander gave me a stern talking-to about being more careful.

Stern Xander... mmm... what? Nothing. Wow, this warm milk is good. So, you'd think that at 5:30 in the morning, nobody else would be around, but the great thing about this house is, you're never really alone. That means there's always stuff going on to distract you from thinking about stuff you don't want to, and if you're never alone, you can't be lonely, right?

Willow walked into the room a second after Spike had, and started rummaging through cabinets.

"Wow, you're up early," I said to her. Willow's okay. She tried to kill me once, but now sometimes she makes pancakes and lets me have some.

"Never really went to sleep," she said. "I've been researching."

"You find anything?" I asked.

"You know, I think I may just have. Hey, do you know where the spices are? I need some thyme."

"Yeah, they're over here." I showed her. No one knows the kitchen like I do! I made a really delicious angel-food cake the other day, and even Buffy said it wasn't bad.

"Thanks," she said. Then she looked at me speculatively. "Andrew. Hey, could I ask you some questions?"

"Sure," I said. "Always glad to be of service." Then she started asking me some really weird stuff about last year, what happened with me and Warren and Jonathan. She said she wanted to get the arch-nemesis perspective on it, but some of the stuff she was asking was, like, about what she herself did. That was a little strange, but pretty soon I had just gotten into the story and was telling her all the details. She also was asking about Buffy and Spike, and Xander and Anya, and it was pretty cool to give her my whole perspective on their relationships and everything. A lot of times I hear stuff because people don't realize that I'm in the room with them and that I'm paying attention, but I usually am.

After she was done asking questions she took a bunch of the spices she was looking for earlier and went into the dining room and shut the doors behind her. By this time it was pretty much morning, so I decided to forget about sleeping and just make breakfast for everybody. I had whipped up my famous waffles and everybody seemed to really enjoy them, even Giles. After that everybody had pretty much drifted off to go do their daily things, and I decided to leave the dishes for later and go read the latest comic books I'd picked up the day before. Xander let me come to the comic store with him. He's really cool like that. Willow hadn't come in for breakfast, but there were some strange smells drifting out from the dining room. Buffy was giving the door these dirty looks, like she was about to be really mad about the smelly stuff.

Then, as I was sitting in the living room, minding my own business, I heard some angry voices. It sounded like Buffy was kind of chewing out Willow, not that that's unusual, but then there was running and yelling and it sounded like a kid crying in the kitchen. Me and all the Potentials in the living room got up to see what was going on, along with pretty much everyone else in the house. That's when we saw Willow acting all weird and threatening to break that kid's yo-yo. I thought that was pretty mean at first, 'cause people's toys are sometimes really important to them and you shouldn't break them, but then the kid got all demon-y and I realized what was going on.

Buffy and Spike started wrestling the kid down to the basement, and he was yelling all this stuff about what a bad Slayer Buffy was and everything.

"Hey, Buffy's a good Slayer!" I said. "Don't say that stuff about her." The kid rolled his eyes at me.

"Oh, shut up," he said.

Part Nine - Rijomar: 8:35 am, Wednesday, February 19, 2003

Call me crazy, but being manhandled never really puts me in a good mood. Neither does realizing that I may have made a serious miscalculation in my plans. When that pathetic excuse for a vampire and the train wreck of a Slayer fastened those manacles on my wrists, I knew I was in big trouble. Big, big trouble. Normally I'd just teleport myself out of there, but I'm on probation and D'Hoffryn took away some of my privileges, goddamnit. I'm gonna be pissed if that ridiculous probation turns quite possibly my finest hour into the end of my career. I have the sinking feeling that I'm about to turn into some kind of cautionary tale passed around the break room back at the office, like that incompetent Anyanka. I never believed it when people would talk about how good she was at her job - if she'd been so great, she wouldn't have lost her power and gotten stuck in the body of a high schooler, now would she?

Well, apparently that can happen to the best of us. And just think of the horrors of being stuck in the body of an 8 year old permanently - all that Kool-Aid and peanut-butter and jelly, not to mention the fact that I always get motion-sickness on the swings. The kid thing was not a good plan, Rijomar. But after not making my quota for a few months (hence the probation) I was trying to think of new ways to swing this gig. Think outside the box and all that. And kids are wishing things all the time, so it wasn't going so bad until that little red-headed witch showed up. You would think the Slayer's best friend would know better than to make a wish to a stranger, but you would be wrong. Honestly, this is partly D'Hoffryn's fault - they really should have mug shots of the Slayer's little pals up on the office wall. This is two of us they've screwed over now? You'd think they were making those wishes on purpose - any way you look at it, those kids are bad news. And who has manacles conveniently attached to their basement wall, anyway? I mean, I heard this Slayer was into some freaky stuff, but honestly, the basement is a fairly public place. Think of the children!

Speaking of freaky stuff, what is up with her and that vampire? I heard she had the hots for the undead, but good Lord. They were giving each other moon eyes as they chained me up, hands brushing each other as they wrestled me down. Felt like I should take a really hot shower afterwards and scrub myself with industrial strength disinfectant soap.

Add that to their attempts at being "quippy" when they were clapping the handcuffs on me, and I think I might be sick. It's really an issue of respect, you know? No one appreciates the artistry of the vengeance demon's craft these days - and if they couldn't appreciate the artistry, they could at least acknowledge the sheer amount of hard work we put into our jobs. Do you know how much paperwork I've done in the last month alone? It could bury a small town.

The problem is that no one understands the process that goes into granting each wish. All they see is us doing the smoke and mirrors, bringing out our true faces and proclaiming "Done" in a deep voice. (I spent many hours in front of the mirror practicing my delivery on that one, by the way. It's details like that that separate the good from the great, you know?) What you don't see is what we do in between the wish and the granting. For instance, with this most recent wish, I immediately popped over to my office in the next dimension over. (Using inter-dimensional shifting is what enables us to provide our clients with apparent instantaneous granting of even the most complicated wish). Once I was in my office, I at once recorded the exact wording of the wish and began to run simulations. The general principle of vengeance demon wish-granting is a simple one. Granting any wish takes energy, and what fuels the granting is pain. So for each wish we grant, the pain we cause must equal the amount of energy it takes to grant the wish, and preferably exceed it. D'Hoffryn requires that we each rack up a minimum net gain of 5,000 Mursum units of pain each month. Your standard vengeance demon wishes are fairly straightforward this way - say someone wishes that their cheating ex-boyfriend would get boils. All this requires is a simple curse, taking about 45 Mursum units to perform, and it then produces about 125 Mursum units of pain in return, giving you a net gain of 80 units . These spells are our bread and butter and require very little behind the scenes work - good, steady, and straightforward wishes, those. But a wish like Red's is a doozy. Any kind of wish to change the past requires the yanking of a whole alternate, unrealized reality into the place of the reality that already exists. We're talking thousands, sometimes even millions of Mursum units, depending on how much time they want changed. Obviously, changing only a few years is much less costly than changing 20 or 30. But the beauty of these kinds of wishes is that they can also produce massive amounts of agony, often enough to make your quota for the whole year. You don't get wishes like that every day - this was my big break. So I ran simulations day and night. Willow's wish was vague enough to leave a lot of room for interpretation, which is sometimes a drag since it creates so much more work, but also really gives you a chance to shine creatively. Here, for example, there were many possibilities - Buffy could've had an older sister, a younger brother, heck, seven younger brothers. The problem with most of these scenarios was that they needed to have a lot of time changed, and many of them produced almost no pain at all. I was starting to get really frustrated when I came up with this brilliant, if a little out there, plan.

It came to me when I was looking at scenarios that involved one or the other of Buffy's parents having a child within the last two or three years, most of which had really minimal estimated-pain-caused (EPC) figures. Suddenly, a very bizarre alternate universe popped up. It turned out that if this one hell-god, Glory, was kicked out of her dimension and looking for the Key to get her back home, then this whole strange thing happened where monks turned the Key into a sister, so Buffy would protect it. The amount of Mursum units this development caused were off the chart! I'd never seen anything like it. Every year that went by caused a dramatic increase in pain, exponential in its growth.

Once you accepted this bizarre premise, the scenario really developed quite naturally. First of all, with a sister to protect and a hell-god to fight, Buffy was completely distracted from her quest to find the source of her powers, a quest that had left her both very mentally healthy and well-balanced, and also extremely powerful as a Slayer. Without the balance between light and darkness that she found on that quest, she progressively became more and more dark and alienated as the demonic side of her Slayer powers took precedence. Also, with all the stress of fighting this god, she didn't have time to process her mother's death and grieve it properly. Ultimately, she gave her own life to save her sister and the world, in a truly heroic, if despairing, gesture. But that wasn't the end, oh no. After she'd been dead several months, her friends raised her from the grave - and we all know that post-post-mortem depression can be killer. Excuse the pun. And then, in the midst of this depression, she started a destructive relationship with the soulless vampire Spike, who loved her but just furthered her descent into depression and darkness. And finally, Buffy's resurrection caused the balance of good and evil to be upset, resulting in the First Evil rising up to destroy the Slayer line. Oh yeah, this whole thing left Buffy in very bad shape indeed.

And that was only Buffy! Her friends had it just as bad, especially Red. When Glory hurt her little girlfriend, Red started her descent into dark magic, going after her to wreak vengeance. Then after Buffy died, resurrecting her took Red even further down that path, leading her to a bout with magic addiction that ended up in her killing spree and attempt to end the world. Seriously traumatized, that girl. Pain up the wazoo. Not to mention her pain at her friendship with Buffy dissolving as they both spiraled downward.

Her friend Xander wasn't as dramatically affected, but the battles with the First and Glory, and his pain at watching his friends suffer certainly all took their toll on him as well. Giles had it harder, as this scenario basically robs him of his wife and unborn child - since Olivia never came to visit him, she never decided to buy Joyce's gallery and they eventually broke up. He tried to move back to England, but with the upheaval over the First he ended up trying to straddle two continents and really belonging in neither. And even the vampire Spike was worse off - since Buffy got into a sexual relationship with him pre-soul, they never had a chance. Before, she'd refused to have anything to do with him romantically when he was unsoulled, and this finally frustrated him enough that he went off to get it without any attempted rape trauma. When they got together post-soul, they actually ended up kind of happy. Well, none of that in this scenario! Pain, pain, pain. It was marvelous!

And this is only talking about Buffy's friends, not even mentioning all the Sunnydale residents that Glory drove insane, the Potential Slayers that the First killed (and the ones that were taken from their families and had to go live with Buffy, which is not pleasant these days), the odious Warren (who was now dead at Willow's hand instead of in prison), Jonathan, killed by Andrew - and Andrew himself, who wasn't a murderer in the original timeline. Not to mention all the other victims whom Buffy wasn't in time to save - really, the list goes on and on. It was a miraculous wish - I think I would've been up for awards for this one, honestly. Sheer genius, if I do say so myself.

Then I had to answer the summons Willow made. Well, it's my job, right? Didn't have a choice about it. It's really a stupid clause - what, someone burns some herbs, says some Latin and we have to show up? Honestly, give us some discretion. But really, it would've been okay if I had resisted the gloating. The gloating will always do you in, kids, but believe me, it's hard to not to give into that temptation. And then the witch was all chasing me, and the Slayer was there - I tried to play dumb, doing the little kid act for the Slayer, and she totally would've bought it if it weren't for that stuffy English guy. Never did like the English - the food's terrible, and they're all so... well, stuffy. I probably shouldn't have lost my temper like that and shown my true face, but let's face it, the show was over and my last chance was violence. Stupid Slayer. How does the line from that cartoon go? Would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for those meddling kids? Yeah. Truer words were never spoken.

Part Ten - Anya: 9:18 am, Wednesday, February 19, 2003

This is so typical. I'm gone for twenty-four hours to go visit some of my old demon friends and see if I could find out any information on the First, and everything goes to hell while I'm gone.

Well, that wasn't really what I was doing. Sometimes I just have to get away from all of them, so I invent something about finding out about the First from my "demon contacts" and then go drink large quantities of alcohol. You can't blame me. It's really very unpleasant to be stuck in a medium-sized house with what seems like an unlimited supply of people (I think the Potentials must be reproducing somehow. Maybe asexually, like one-celled organisms. It certainly seems like their brains are one-celled.) - what was I saying? Oh yes, being stuck in a medium sized house with thousands of people, including all your ex-fiance's friends who never liked you in the first place and with the additional bonus of your ex hanging around all the time pretending he's fixing things.

Those aren't the only awkward relationships, either. Everyone who lives here is always either having sex with each other or trying to kill each other. It's very primal, really. I personally have had sex with both Xander and Spike, and Willow and Buffy have both tried to kill me. And I've kissed Giles - we were under a spell at the time, but it's not like we've forgotten about it since then. (You might not expect it, but Giles is a very good kisser.) Unless you pay very close attention, you can easily lose track of who's trying to kill who or who's sleeping with who at any given moment. Of course, some people are allowed to try to kill other people and some people aren't. Last year Willow destroyed my livelihood, said very mean things, tried to kill all of us and destroy the world, but she got to come back like everything was fine and dandy. Whereas when I just killed a few frat guys who almost deserved it, Buffy went after me with a sword without even talking to me about it beforehand. Little Miss I-Am-The-Law-Except-When-I-Like-The-Person-Who's-Doing-The-Killing-In-Which-Case-I'm-Willing-To-Overlook-It.

I mean, honestly. As a vengeance demon, I only hurt people when they'd done something to deserve it. How come I'm not allowed to be the law? Why is it all right for Buffy to kill whoever's doing things she doesn't like, but if I do that, suddenly I'm the enemy? It's completely arbitrary.

Oh yes, Buffy this, Buffy that, Buffy's so great, we have to go help Buffy, Buffy's a superhero, Buffy deserves our worship and adoration, if I could be marrying Buffy God knows I would so don't get too excited, actual fiancee, you know you're only second best. Well, third best, after Willow.

I don't understand it. Neither of them love him as much as he loves them. They both turned him down - Buffy flat out, and then Willow didn't exactly run to leave Oz for him, did she? But his whole life revolves around them, and half the time I don't think they even remember that he's there.

I loved him. I hung around fighting apocalypses for him, even though it would have made much more sense just to leave town. I would have born him fat babies and grown old with him and loved him until we both got wrinkly and incontinent.

Stupid Xander. Stupid love. None of it makes sense. Everyone should love each other equal amounts - that would make sense - instead of all walking around loving other people more than they love us back.

The worst part is that I think I'm the only one who doesn't have anyone loving me more than I love them. Well, me and Spike, maybe. But Buffy - everyone loves her more than she loves them back. It's not fair. All she does is whine about how hard it is to be the Slayer and how lonely it is, while she has everyone loving her all the time, even when she doesn't deserve it. The rest of us don't complain, even though she sucks up all the love in the room and doesn't leave any for the rest of us. Doesn't she know that everyone's lonely?

Anyway, when I got back to Buffy's house, or the "House of Extreme Aggravation and Not Enough Bathrooms," as I like to call it, everything was all in an uproar. I thought someone must have tried to kill someone else or have slept with someone inappropriate again and got worried that it was Xander. But as soon as I came in the door, Andrew came running to meet me, babbling something about a vengeance demon and alternate realities and God knows what all else, so it wasn't that. Everyone seemed to be having a little pow-wow in the dining room, where Willow was holding up her end of the babble fest, talking about Giles having a baby and some such thing. I couldn't follow it at first, until finally she noticed I was there.

"Anya! Where have you been?" Willow said, all energetic and big-eyed, like it was my fault that I was away when she had her huge revelation or whatever it was. "I was looking all over for you! You have to help explain this!" And then she launched into this wild story about how all this was an alternate reality where everything was horrible, and in the reality where she had come from, everything was idyllic and happy. Well, frankly, I thought she must have been hitting the magic bong a little too hard, but everyone seemed to be taking her seriously, brandishing some kind of child's toy like it were a crucial part of the story.

"Slow down, slow down," I said. "So you're saying that a vengeance demon did all this? Who? Gwertan? Iliammar?"

"I don't know, he said his name was Joey," Willow said.

"Joey?"

"Yeah, do you know him? He's down in the basement right now. See, I wished and he created this whole alternate reality, like that one you created that one time where I was a vampire and everything!"

"Hmmm...," I said. "Well, I'll go down and talk to him. But first clear some things up for me. So in this alternate, happy reality, did Xander not leave me at the altar?" Willow looked uncomfortable.

"Uh... sorry, no, he kinda... did." I hit Xander on the shoulder, hard.

"So you're a jackass even in happy realities?" I said to him.

"Ow!" he said. He always was a sissy boy about getting hit. "I said I was sorry, now do you want me to apologize for things an alternate me did in an alternate universe?"

"Yes!"

"No!" Xander said. He's so stubborn. I don't know why I ever agreed to marry him in the first place.

"Um, Anya? Would you like to see this 'Joey', now?" asked Giles, polishing his glasses.

"Oh, I suppose so," I said. They all trooped down to the basement with me, because clearly I need an audience of hundreds for this kind of interrogation.

A really short vengeance demon was chained up in Spike's old manacles, and I recognized him instantly. Rijomar. Never liked him. Always a little too brash and cocky for my tastes - barely 600 years old and thought he knew everything. He always acted like he was better than everybody, and was especially rude after I got my powers taken away. I was glad when I heard he was on probation - maybe that will teach him a lesson.

"Rijomar," I said.

"Anyanka," he said.

"So I gather Willow made a reckless wish and you granted it?" I said.

"That's what we vengeance demons do, if you've forgotten," he said. Hasn't lost his sense of uppity-ness, anyway.

"What did you do, exactly?"

"Well, Willow wished Buffy wasn't an only child. So I kicked Glory out of her dimension and got Dawn created. Genius, really. A wish of legendary proportions. So if you'll just unchain me, I'll be on my way. Enjoy your new reality!" I glanced over at Dawn, who was looking very shaken. Xander had his arm around her.

"And you changed all my memories too?" I said, annoyed. "Honestly, that's just plain rude."

"Hey, you're human now and friends with the Slayer," he said.

"Well, that's one way to put it," I muttered.

"I couldn't very well grant the wish without affecting you," he continued. "But I do still have some professional courtesy, Anyanka. I did all I could to keep your personal life as unchanged as possible."

"Yeah, thanks a lot! So even if we get this great, pain-free reality back I still got left at the altar?" Rijomar shrugged.

"I thought you'd be pleased," he said, not looking like he thought I'd be pleased at all. I rolled my eyes. Giles sighed loudly. I could tell that he was polishing his glasses again without even looking.

"Have we established all we need to? That this Rijomar is in fact a vengeance demon and Willow is telling the truth? Anya?"

"Yes, we're done here," I said, glaring at Rij. He glared back. "Are those manacles on tight enough?" I asked. "Maybe we should cinch them up a notch. They don't really look like they're cutting into his wrists at all." He glared at me even harder. Everyone else just rolled their eyes at me, grumbling as they headed up the basement stairs.

Part Eleven - Dawn: 9:45 am, Wednesday, February 19, 2003

So. I'm not only not real, I'm also the reason everything sucks. That... figures, actually.

This really shouldn't hit me that hard. I mean, I know I didn't exist before two years ago and that all my memories before that are fake. Those monks really did a good job with the memory thing, though. Like, for instance, I totally remember the day my dad told me he and Mom were getting divorced. He took me out for ice cream, and I got mint chocolate chip. We were sitting outside the ice cream place with our cones, which were all drippy because it was July, so I was really concentrating on licking all around the edges so it wouldn't dribble all over me when he said it. The part I remember the most was when he was like, "Sometimes, Pumpkin, we have to do things that hurt because it's for the good of everybody." Of course, I guess he really meant, sometimes we have to do things that hurt because we want to boff our secretary. But hey, that practically means the same thing, right?

I couldn't eat mint chocolate chip ice cream for two years after that without feeling sick to my stomach, and it was my favorite. Except it totally wasn't, because none of that ever happened. See how this screws you up? I mean, sometimes I still really miss my dad. But I've never actually met him.

They don't even make therapists for that kind of problem.

And now I've got an extra crazy problem, because it's my existence that has almost made the world end three times and made everyone else's life hell. I guess it really is my fault that Buffy doesn't seem to like me very much. When I said that to Xander he was all shocked and was like, "No, no Dawnie! Buffy loves you! She's just really distracted and has had a hard couple of years, that's all." But the hard couple of years are my fault, so... yeah. I mean, I know that Buffy loves me, I guess. It's just that in between those huge heroic/sacrificial giving-her-life-to-save-me moments - well, it doesn't seem like she does.

But it's funny how I'm the one who's the cause of all this, and I'm practically the only one who hasn't done anything terrible, you know? I mean, shoplifting is so kid's stuff compared to the murder and mayhem the rest of them have done. It's not like I was the one who decided to raise Buffy from the dead, or raised a Satanic temple and tried to destroy the world. Willow and raising - never a good thing. And hey, I didn't try to rape anybody, or murder my best friend or kill a bunch of frat guys.

I know, I know, comparing myself to this group isn't exactly setting the moral bar all that high, but still.

So apparently I was created by a wish and a vengeance demon. My real parents are Willow and Rijobar, or whatever his name was. That's... okay, wow, Willow and Rijobar, I just went to a really scary visual place. Gross. GROSS.

I can't deal with this. And I don't mean the mental image. Though, that too, now that I think of it again. God, eww.

Everyone was talking softly in the living room and shooting me weird glances. It was too much. I shook off Xander's arm. "I... need to be alone for a bit," I said, and went upstairs to my room. No one followed me.

I sat on my bed and began what was going to be a really good run of staring into space. I was getting into the eyes-glazing-over stage when Buffy appeared in the doorway.

"Dawn," she said.

"Oh, it's you," I replied disdainfully. I don't know why I was being all bratty. Habit, I guess. "Come to talk about wiping me out of existence?"

"Dawn, you know I'd never do that. You're my sister. I love you. But everyone else... well, I'm afraid they might."

"Yeah?" I said. "Well, maybe they should."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

"Dawn, it is not. You're important and valuable, and I won't let them get rid of you. But I think you should come downstairs and make sure they don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"How am I important? I don't do anything. I'm not even real. And it's not like Pinocchio, you know, it's not like if I do enough good deeds I'll turn into a real girl. No matter how much you all pretend that I was around for stuff, I'll still never have actually known Angel or Cordelia or Oz or anybody. It's all a lie. Maybe you should just get rid of me - it's not like it'd be a big loss."

"But it would, Dawnie. It would be a huge loss, to all of us. And you are real - you're real because you're in my heart. And I won't give that up, even if things are worse here. It's worth it for you. Everyone else is just a big jerk, and I won't listen to Xander or anybody when they say we should break the spell. You know, you really better get down there and talk them out of it."

I almost believed her. All that stuff about her loving me and me being in her heart. But when she said that Xander wanted to get rid of me... well, I knew. I mean, I'm not stupid.

I stuck my hand through her shoulder.

"Oh, it's you," I said again, this time flatly. My insides felt like they had all deflated in on each other. The First's Buffy-face tightened. "You really should work on your spiel," I said. "That was pretty cheesy. And not all that accurate."

"But it's all true, Dawnie," it said, smiling menacingly. "All of them, down there? They're talking about how they're going to smash that yo-yo and make it so no one ever remembers there was a Dawn. Sucks to be you, huh?"

"No, they're not," I said automatically. And then I realized that I was actually completely right. Because they wouldn't do that, ever. They'd keep a reality where everything sucks, where the world would probably be destroyed by the First, just because there was no way they'd ever get rid of me. Because they love me, and because they're the good guys.

"No, they really are," said FirstBuffy. "You better go down there and stop them." I stared at it, a little confused. Oh. OH.

"You're worried!" I said to it. "If we break that thing, you're gone. No power-play, no uber-vamps, no nothing, huh? It's your weak link!"

"No," it said, very unconvincingly.

"I can beat you!" I said gleefully. "Ha, ha, ha! And you're incorporeal, you can't stop me!"

"No, I'll stop you, I'll...." I started poking my hand through its face tauntingly. "That's very annoying," it said.

"You're just the First Loser!" I said, laughing, putting that L-shape up to my forehead. "Loser!" I put the L up to its forehead too. Heh.

"You suck," it said finally. It folded itself up into a ball of white light, and disappeared.

The whole situation was less funny when it was gone. Was I really going to do this? It was true that no one else would - it had to be me. And the First was probably sending Bringers at that very moment, so I had to act fast. Could I really completely obliterate myself, even any memory of myself? Just disappear, never have existed at all?

I remembered Buffy on the tower, looking down at the portal my blood was dripping into. Buffy, who was always prettier and cooler and the Chosen One and everything. Diving off the tower for me.

Well, here was something I could do as well as Buffy, anyway. She wasn't the only one who could die to save the world.

I could do this. For Buffy, for Willow, for Xander. Even for Giles, and Anya and stupid Andrew. Even for Spike. They love me. I love them.

I better do it fast before I change my mind.

Xander had left some tools in my room from when he fixed the wall - I grabbed a hammer and ran down the stairs, holding it behind my back. They'd stop me if they knew what I was going to do.

I slipped into the living room, where they were all still talking seriously. They didn't notice that I'd come back at first, so I slid around to the coffee table, where the yo-yo was lying unobtrusively. Xander saw me when I sat down next to it.

"Hey, Dawn, how're you holding up?" he asked.

"Okay," I said. I raised the hammer and looked around quickly. Everyone stared at me then, looking too startled to move. "I love you guys. You won't remember, but I do."

I brought the hammer down on the plastic, hard.

"Dawn, no!" yelled Buffy. But it was too late. There was a whoosh sound and the world dissolved in bright white.

********************

The Key hummed in its dimension, sparkling and glowing. It was happy to be a ball of green energy. It didn't know what else it could be.

Epilogue - Willow: 12:02 pm, Tuesday, February 18, 2003

I was babbling on, picking up my notes when the little kid said "Done," or something.

"Huh?" I asked him.

"Done," he said again, nodding authoritatively. Then his eyes widened. "Goddamnit!"

"Whoa, language!"

"Shut the hell up," he said.

"Does your mother know you talk like that?" I asked him. "That is just highly disturbing." He glared at me and I backed slowly away. Weird kid.

The party store had the "It's a boy!" banner, so I bought it and headed home, still a little annoyed at Buffy. But when I opened the door to our apartment, she was there, actually cleaning! It was amazing.

"Buffy!" I said. "You're... using the Chlorox! I didn't know you knew where it was!" She gave me a withering glance.

"I'm not quite that bad, am I?" I looked at her. "Okay, maybe I am. Sorry about running out on you earlier - I realized that I totally make you do most of the work around here. So I'm turning over a whole new Buffy leaf. Chore-doing, responsible Buffy, coming right up." I grinned at her.

"That's awesome. Thanks."

"Anything for my best friend," she said. "Also, hey, Giles is having a baby! He deserves to have a baby shower in a clean apartment."

"Yeah, 'cause on the Hellmouth, you never know. That mold in the back of the fridge could turn into a mold monster and attack."

"I wish," said Buffy. I looked at her. "I mean, terrible thing, that would be just plain awful. Wouldn't want to have to slay something like that, nuh uh." I grinned.

"You're such a freak."

*************

The apartment was spotless when everyone arrived, just after sunset, bearing gifts. I was so proud of us. The room looked full and cheerful with bright wrapping paper and food and decorations, crowded with people, by the time Giles and Olivia walked in, his hand at the small of her back. They are so cute together.

"Hey, the guests of honor!" Xander said, greeting them. "Olivia, always a pleasure." He kissed her cheek.

"Hello, Xander," she said. I was hugging Giles.

"Welcome to the party!" I said. "Let me take your coats - I'll throw them on Buffy's bed. She actually made her bed for the party, even though no one will be going in there! Can you believe it?"

"Should I get my books and research body-snatching?" asked Giles dryly.

"I'm beginning to wonder," I said. Buffy came up just then, having totally missed what we'd just said.

"Olivia, why don't we let you sit down?" she said. Giles and I smirked at each other behind Buffy's back.

"Thank you, that would be lovely," said Olivia, looking relieved. "I'm always afraid I'm going to overbalance and keel right over."

"We wouldn't want that," said Buffy. "We have the seat of honor for you, right here." She led her over to an armchair, and I took the coats back into the bedroom to throw them on the pile with the others.

The party really seemed to be going nicely. Buffy and I were busy serving snacks and making sure everybody was doing okay. Well, the more mature and single one of us was, anyway. I walked into the kitchen at one point to get more ice and found Buffy and Spike in a lip-lock.

"Hey Buffy, not to alarm you or anything, but I think you've got something on your face," I said. "Also, you're blocking the freezer." The two of them broke apart quickly and moved out of the way.

"It's just as well you interrupted," Buffy said. "I could use a break from onion breath over there."

"Well, Little Miss Slayer-Strength might not get so much onion if she weren't trying to stuff her tongue way down past my tonsils," he replied.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're very aggravating?" she asked him. They were totally just flirting now, and I rolled my eyes. I don't know if Buffy's constant soap opera melodrama with Angel (and, you know, him trying to kill us and everything) or her constant flirty fighting with Spike was worse, honestly. From a best friend standpoint, Riley was a much less annoying boyfriend than Spike, but on the other hand, Riley was kind of... well, bland? Nice guy, but yeah. And Spike's all right, once you get used to having him around. Buffy seems mostly happy, anyway, so I'm vicariously happy for her. I'm not vicariously into the romance of it, like I was with Angel back when the vamp-with-soul thing seemed all star-crossed and romantic instead of kind of inconvenient, but hey, that's okay. I'm more into my own romance - still getting over Tara, but dealing with it enough so that I can think that my lab partner in orgo is awfully cute and funny.

We'd gone through cake and party games when we finally decided it was time for presents. Well, actually Andrew wouldn't stop asking if we were doing presents yet, so we finally caved and brought them over.

"Me first!" said Buffy, bringing over her two packages. The first one had clothes in it - little overalls and shirts. "I got them at Baby Gap," she said. "He'll be the most stylish of all the kids at the hospital." Olivia held them all up for everyone to ooh and ahh over. The last item Giles pulled out was a onesie that said "I'm the little brother!" on it. He looked touched.

"I was also going to get you a mug that said 'Best Dad Ever'," Buffy said. "But I think that'll have to wait for Father's Day." Giles looked slightly overwhelmed.

"Buffy... thank you. That's...." But Buffy interrupted him.

"Now open the next one!" Giles smiled at her so that his eyes crinkled, and began to remove the paper. It was a toy airplane. Giles looked at Buffy, a little confused.

"I thought he might want to be a fighter pilot when he grows up," she explained. "Or a grocer. I would've gotten something for that too, but it turns out grocery stores are really expensive." Giles chuckled.

"This is... well." He looked at her affectionately. "Thank you."

"Aww, give me a hug, British guy," she said, stepping over. She hugged Olivia after, bending down to the chair and embracing her lightly.

Jonathan and Andrew's present was next. Olivia opened it to find a boxed set of the complete works of J.R.R. Tolkien.

"Um... thank you," she said, looking a little bewildered.

"Bed-time stories!" said Andrew excitedly.

"Of course," said Olivia politely. "What a... unique idea. Thank you." Jonathan and Andrew looked very pleased with themselves.

Anya had gotten the baby stock, since you're never too young to start working on your investment portfolio, and Spike's present was a bottle of scotch. Giles had looked at it strangely. "Oh, it's not for the baby, it's for you, Rupes," Spike had said. "I suspect you'll be needing it." Giles had given him a Look, but thanked him anyway.

Xander and I had saved our presents for last, because we were awfully proud of them.

"Okay, you guys are up," said Buffy. We looked at each other and grinned, then went back into my room, where we were keeping the big gift.

We rolled the crib Xander had made out with great ceremony.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Olivia said. It really was, too. Xander had carved it out of this dark cherry wood, and it was just perfect. The side went up and down and everything.

"And you guys haven't even seen the best part yet!" Xander said. He rolled it so they could see the end of it, where my contribution was. I had gotten the idea from Harry Potter. Xander had carved what looked like a clock face on the end of the crib, with a moving clock hand. All around the edges we had written different words that the hand could point to.

"See, Willow magicked it!" Xander said. "When the baby's crying, you just have to look here to see why. See?" He started reading the words around the perimeter. "'Hungry', 'wet', 'cold', 'lonely', 'tired', 'bemused'..."

"Bemused?" said Buffy, almost snickering.

"C'mon," I said. "You don't think Giles's son will get bemused?"

"The more you say it, the more it doesn't sound like a real word," she said.

"Anyway," I said, pointedly ignoring her. "Once the baby's born I'll have to get one of his hairs to lock the spell in on him, but otherwise it's all set up!"

"That's amazing, Willow," said Olivia. "What a brilliant idea."

"Oh, and we got accessories, too," said Xander, handing them a few packages. They opened the first one, which was a blanket. "We couldn't find anything in tweed," Xander said. "So this'll have to do instead." He got a Look from Giles too. The second present was a mobile that we'd found and knew that we HAD to get.

"It's the Count, from Sesame Street!" I said. "Get him used to the vampires early, and also, this way maybe he'll like math." Everyone looked at me. "Because of the counting!" They were still looking at me, though, so I guess they had already gotten it. I shrugged.

Giles was giving us his happiest, most Giles-y smile, and we both hugged him and Olivia.

"I am beginning to suspect," he said, looking around at everybody, "that I am the luckiest man alive."

"Not too shabby for living on a Hellmouth, huh?" said Xander.

"Not at all."

I looked around at my friends, all there together. We really were lucky. I mean, sure, we'd had our hard times - I knew that as well as anyone, missing Tara. But we had each other, and that was always enough.

We had been passing Xander's digital camera around all through the party, getting candid shots of everyone. Xander and Buffy and I were standing by the crib and talking when Jonathan came up to us holding it.

"I think we need a picture of the three musketeers!" he said, pointing it at us. We turned to face him, Buffy in the middle, and put our arms around each other. "Okay, say cheese!" Jonathan said.

"Cheese!" we all said dutifully. The camera flashed on us grinning as big as we could.

END

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