The yellow trail stretched out endlessly before Buffy and Spike as they walked forward. Buffy folded her arms across her chest and huffed.

“So…nice day out.”

“Yeah, not bursting into flames in the sun is nice.”

“I’ll bet.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

“Alright, Slayer, what are you getting at?”

“What do you mean?”

He stared at her blankly.

“The small talk about the weather? C’mon, love, I’m not as dense as everyone seemed to think…you aren’t one for niceties. What’s up?”

Buffy blushed and suddenly found her sparkling shoes very interesting.

“Well…I…I just wondered…I….”

“Out with it, pet.”

“Sorry. Just wanted to know if you…umm…jeez, this is tough. Did you, I mean, since you came back…have you…you know, moved on with anyone?”

“You mean did I sleep with anyone?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, pet, I did. I’m sorry.”

Buffy didn’t respond, but simply formed a small ‘o’ with her mouth.

“It didn’t mean anything though, love. When I first came back, I was a ghost…I think when…when I got my body back, I was just excited and didn’t think about anything between us…you know, with the whole you thinking I was dead thing. I just…I thought you’d moved on, and BAM! I’m having sex with Harm.”

Buffy crinkled up her nose.

“Harmony? Jeez, masochist much? Didn’t you get enough of her before?”

“Yeah, I did, pet. It’s…it’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“Well, first off, when I was working with Angel, I actually felt like a part of the group…not just like an outsider. It was nice to feel needed, I guess.”

Buffy’s expression softened.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, pet? You held out for a year till you found me…prolly would’ve held out longer, yeah?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I realized that you were it for me. I think I just realized it too late.”

“At any rate, I am sorry, pet. It was a stupid mistake, and it’ll never happen again.”

“Good. So…how is everyone in LA?”

Spike sighed and seemed to choke back tears.

“They’re dead, Buffy. Everyone but me; and that dragon was about to finish me off too, I think.”

A single tear rolled down Buffy’s cheek, but she wiped it away, and threw her arms around Spike, drawing him tightly to her.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

Overcome with desire, loss, and love, Spike pulled Buffy to the side of the road, and set her down behind a bush.

“I love you,” he said as he spread her legs apart, and set himself between them. He captured her mouth with his softly, as she wrapped her strong legs around his torso.

“Make love to me, Spike,” she mewled.

Spike grinned as he ripped Buffy’s panties off, and threw them aside.

“Just waiting for you to ask, pet.”

--


Willow stood about the two blondes in a small hospital room in the Council’s London headquarters. Twin machines beeped in sync; one read Buffy’s heart rate, the other read Spike’s brain activity. While Buffy’s body was still pristine in her gingham costume, Spike’s body was charred and broken. He had, indeed been the last of Angel’s team to face the dragon and the demon hordes. Soon after Buffy fell into her comatose state, the Council was alerted of the battle, and their trained warriors rushed in to save the day. It was only by chance that Xander found Spike’s blackened figure, and saved him from the impending daylight. With his vampiric traits, he would fully recover in a week or so, and his body had already begun to heal. The battle was won, but Willow wouldn’t consider the war over until both Buffy and Spike regained consciousness. It was only a matter of time before irreparable damage was done to their bodies and minds.

The most intriguing element about the two comatose patients, from Willow’s perspective, was the way their bodies were reacting. Aside from the simultaneous ‘beeps’ that signaled identical brain and heart activity, Willow noticed a distinct pattern in the eye movements and facial expressions they made. Willow sucked a deep breath in as the realization of their mannerisms sunk in.

Like they’re having the same dream…or they’re in the same reality!

Willow ran down the hall, in search of Giles and a few ancient tomes for some much-needed research.


--

Buffy trailed her finger around Spike’s scarred eyebrow, assuming he was asleep in his post-coital bliss. When a smirk crossed his face, she dropped her hand and sighed.

“No fair…you don’t have to breathe, so how am I supposed to know if you’re asleep or not?”

As Spike opened his mouth to speak, a loud crowing, followed by a semi-masculine whine, cut through their surroundings. Gathering up their belongings, though Buffy begrudgingly left her torn underwear wherever it happened to fly, Buffy and Spike soon found the source of the noise. A living, breathing scarecrow hung on a wooden post, trying to frighten a crow away. The crow retaliated by pecking one of the scarecrow’s eyes out and flying off with it nestled in its beak. The scarecrow frowned and turned, as best he could, to look at Buffy and Spike, as best he could.

“I just can’t win. Either of you feel like helping me down from here? Today kind of sucks.”

Buffy nodded at Spike, who rolled his eyes as he helped the scarecrow off of his post. Instead of being grateful for the help, the scarecrow made a dramatic scene of rolling his sole eye.

“Gee, thanks so much, Captain Peroxide. Took you long enough to get me down.”

Buffy frowned.

“Xander!”

The scarecrow tilted his head to the side.

“What’s a Xander?”

Buffy sighed and rested her head on Spike’s shoulder.

“A brain.”

“What, pet?”

“A brain…he doesn’t have one.”

The Xander scarecrow frowned before plopping down to the ground, tears brimming in his eye.

“Why does everybody say that?”

Buffy shrugged at Spike and gently pat Xander’s hay-filled shoulder.

“Sorry. Why don’t you come with us to see the Wizard?”

Xander perked up and began to dance around the yellow brick road.

“Well, I guess you do have a point about me needing a brain. I can ask the Wizard for one! Why if I had a brain, I could….”

Buffy closed her eyes and covered her ears tightly as Xander leapt around the road, singing. Spike gently rubbed her shoulders, but couldn’t keep his eyes off of the bounding hay-filled version of the Scoobie he’d bantered most with the most, after Buffy.

“Is it over yet,” he asked of the purposefully deafened Slayer.

She shrugged, and then held up a finger a moment before Xander crashed to the floor in a heap. Finally releasing her eardrums to function once again, Buffy took hold of Spike’s hand, and motioned toward their path.

“Alright, hay boy, let’s go.”

--