Willow and Xander walked the empty streets of Sunnydale.

“I liked this place much better as a crater,” Xander grumbled, as he glanced into the alley they were passing. “But, hey, no vamps.”

“Yes, and not really a problem, considering it’s the middle of the day,” Willow answered. “And we have you training Slayers?”

She stepped off the sidewalk into the middle of the street and spun around, her arms opened wide. “Hello?” she called out.

“Oh, well, way to summon something nasty, Wil.”

Willow turned to glare at him. “I’m just checking to see if we’re the only…”

“Buffy!” Xander cried out, interrupting her.

Willow followed his gaze over to a small boutique where a blonde who certainly looked like their friend and Slayer was digging through a bin of cosmetics.

Xander grabbed Willow’s hand and they sprinted across the street and into the empty shop.

“Buffy,” Xander said gratefully. “Thank God we found you before we ran into any ghoolies. Not that I was concerned,” he said, drawing himself up and crossing his arms manfully over his chest. “Since I have recently mastered several forms of martial arts while occasionally supporting myself as an exotic dancer.”

Willow rolled her eyes at him and turned to Buffy who was gazing into a mirror and slathering her lips with a nipple-pink lip gloss.

“Um, Buffy?” Willow asked, concerned with her friend’s continued silence.

Buffy turned to look at them, sliding a finger between her lips and removing it with an audible pop to eliminate the excess gloss.

“Willow! Xander!” she said brightly. “Yay, my friends are here!”

She clapped her hands quickly and then turned back to mirror where she continued rubbing her lips together as she considered herself from several angles.

Xander frowned and then his eyes lit up in sudden understanding as he sidled closer to Willow. “I thought you said the ‘bot was destroyed beyond repair,” he hissed at her.

“That’s not the ‘bot, Tweedle Dum,” Willow said, shooting him an irritated glance as she stepped closer to Buffy. “So, ah, Buff, you seem awfully perky, considering the whole ‘Welcome Back to the Hellmouth: Class of ‘99’ thing going on.”

Buffy shrugged. “Hey, if this is supposed to be a prophecy telling me melon is the new pink, it’s one of the more welcome ones.”

“A prophecy…wait, Buffy, you think this a dream?”

“Well, it’s hardly reality, Wil. Unlocked, empty store full of lipstick and halters with no snooty sales clerks.” Her eyes skittered over them. “Hot, buff Xander. You with no Kennedy clinging to you like a growth…obviously the workings of my happy subconscious.”

Willow shook her head helplessly and then felt Xander reach around her suddenly to pinch Buffy hard on the forearm.

“Ow!” Buffy gasped, her shiny lips falling open. She lunged back at Xander, grasped the chest hair that peeked up above his v-neck and yanked viciously.

“Yah!” Xander yelled, shoving her off as he rubbed at his chest. “Back off, hose-beast!” He shook non-existent wrinkles out of his stunning leather jacket and glared at her. “You just wait until I find somewhere to meditate and focus my power center, and your ass is mine, Slayer.”

Buffy stifled a giggle and held up a hand, displaying the cluster of black hairs clinging to her fingers. “I think I have your power center right here – all four of them.”

“Okay, both of you cut it out!” Willow said. “God! We haven’t seen each other in months, we’re suddenly zapped into the inner circle of our own private hell, and you two start making with the bitch slap.” She shook her head sadly. “Not helpful. Really.”

Buffy and Xander both looked shamefaced and then Buffy quirked an apologetic smile to Xander as she dropped the lip gloss and crossed her arms, sighing. “So. Not a dream, huh? Do I want to know what it is?”

Willow shrugged, shaking her head. “We don’t know yet. There’s a definite vibe of the weird kind, but we haven’t seen anything particularly demony. Except we seem to be the entire cast of Sunnydale: The Revenge.”

Buffy stretched her arms over her head and then shook herself, loosening up.

 “Okay,” she nodded. “I’m ready.” She raised her brows. “Kind of concerned that I’m not more freaked out, but this still beats dusting puffy shirt wearing vamps who think 'Ciao, bella' is witty slaying quippage.” She steadied herself, nodding briskly. “Let’s see what’s out there.”

“Ooo, good one, Buff,” Xander said he opened the door for them.

“Lot of time on my hands, not being the only member of my generation,” she explained. “I’ve been boning up.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Xander smirked.

***

“Here, demon, demon, demon,” Xander said under his breath as they made a careful sweep of the quiet streets.

“You know that’s actually a summoning spell, don’t you?” Willow said, grinning.

“Ack – what?” Xander said, stumbling.

“Kidding. But you should have seen your face…”

“Have I mentioned how glad I am that you’re wallowing in the funny here, Wil…”

“You guys, look!”

 Xander and Willow followed Buffy’s gaze to a point above them where a burst of light cracked the sky, filling it with a pale green glow as two figures suddenly hurtled to the ground below. They slowed as the approached the earth, landing gracefully on their heels as their legs flexed and they gained their footing. Their dark coats billowed behind them as they spun slowly around, weapons raised defensively.

Recognizing the new arrivals, Willow turned to Buffy. “I thought vampires couldn’t fly.”

Xander threw a ‘whatever’ glance their way and snorted. “That wasn’t flying. That was falling with arrogance.”

Buffy slowly approached them, Willow and Xander following cautiously behind her.

 “Angel…Spike.” She took in the shredded state of their leather, their bruised, bloody wounds and the unspeakable ick dripping from their broadswords. “What in God’s name have you been doing?”

Spike stepped forward with a grin, pausing to clean the edge of his blade on the hem of Angel’s jacket. “Bodged a dragon. It was down to me old Sire, Blue, Charlie-Boy and yours truly, and I thought we’d dropped a clanger but we really gave it the welly. Any road, gave the dragon the old St. George and now everything’s tickety-boo.”

Buffy, Willow and Xander looked at Spike and then back at each other in total befuddlement.

“What is that you’re speaking – Fyarl?” Buffy asked, her nose wrinkling adorably and her eyes of an indeterminate shade opening widely.

Willow rolled her own equally vividly hued eyes. “God, Buffy, is that the only demon you learned?” She turned back to Spike. “Why are you talking like that?”

Spike peered at Willow as if she were barmy and replied slowly, “Because I’m British. You know, expatriate and all that. Member of the Nancy-boy tribe?”

“Yeah,” Willow said nodding, “really get that. But you usually just throw in a ‘bloody’ or ‘sodding’ and that Brits it right up. And, besides, the accent alone…”

“Ooo, yeah, the accent,” Buffy interjected, her eyes darkening to an even deeper shade of that indescribable color.

“I know,” Willow nodded, grinning. “You know when he says, ‘fag off’?” I’ve always wanted to say that. ‘Fag off!’” she repeated in a flat American accent and then shrugged with a sigh. “Sounds lame without the mockney.”

Buffy grinned and lay a hand on Willow’s arm, “Well, you know I used to get him to…”

“Guys?” Xander broke in. “Still not addressing the presence of the two unexpected undead guys. Especially the one who should be a dead undead guy.”

Buffy’s mouthed formed a perfect O (no, she didn’t orgasm, she was surprised.)

“Omigod, Spike! You burned up in the Hellmouth! You were on fire – finger flaming, soul stinging fire. How is this possible?”

Spike felt like this explanation needed a sigh despite the unneeded air so he sighed, “It’s a bit of a long story, pet…”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Trapped in an amulet, released as a ghost, made corporeal: hung around to make my life hell.”

“Apparently not that long,” Buffy, Willow and Xander chorused.

***

"Let's see what's out there" is from STTNG "Encounter at Farpoint."

"That's not flying, that's falling with arrogance" is paraphrased from Toy Story. Go, Joss!

Part Three