Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any related characters. That belongs to a man named Joss and all his friends. But I still get to play with them!

Summary: Season Five, after Crush. This is what happens when you plot Spuffiness while watching Sleeping Beauty

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Prologue

        "What is in this box, Giles, rocks?" Buffy asked, as she lugged a big cardboard box into the Magic Box. It was big. And heavy. She hoped Giles appreciated this.

        Giles had gotten a shipment of various magical texts earlier that day. Since Buffy was there for training, he'd nominated her for the position of Chief Box Mover. Buffy didn't mind that much - at least it was better than brooding over her freaky stalker vampire, Spike. Just the idea that he believed he was in love with her gave her the heeby-jeebies.

        "Don't set it down there. Put it next to the bookcase."

        Buffy grumbled as she dragged herself and the box across the shop.

        "Here?"

        "No, you're too close to the glass figurines and crystals. A little to the left, please."

        Buffy shifted in the desired direction, her grip slipping as time passed.

        "This good?" She grunted. It had better be!

        Giles sighed. "That will do."

        Buffy set the box down with a thump. Giles winced. Some of those were priceless volumes of lore! Would his Slayer ever learn the value of a good book?

        Task done, Buffy started attacking the packing tape. "Let's see what we've got here." With all the finesse of a child on Christmas Day, Buffy ripped through the tape, and part of the box top as well.

        Inside were - BOOKS! Whoop-di-do. Not that she'd expected anything else, but there had been just the tiniest bit of hope for something cooler. Maybe even brightly colored books with big pictures, instead of moldy old brown ones.

        "Thank you for opening it, Buffy. Now will you help me unload them?"

        Ugh. A Slayer's work is never done.

        An hour later, they were almost done unloading the box. Buffy was convinced it had been enchanted to hold more than physically possible. Giles had recruited Xander and Willow to help him categorize and pile them. Anya stood over his shoulder, hounding him whenever he tried to take a particularly interesting volume and remove it from the inventory. "You bought that with the store money! If you want it, you must offer reimbursement!"

        "That the last of them?" Giles asked.

        Buffy peered into the depths of the box. Little bits of packing foam, some dust, and ooh! bubble wrap. Lots of bubble popping fun! As she reached in to get the bubble wrap, she noticed a book lying in a corner. Buffy wondered why she hadn't seen it before. It was big and shiny, with sparkles from jewels set in the cover.

        She pulled the book out.

        "Just this one."

        Giles nodded, holding out his hand to receive it. Buffy ignored him and set it in her lap. After carefully studying the cover, she realized the title was "Fairy Tales of Life". What was a fairy tale book doing with all these demony ones?

        "It's a book of fairy tales, Giles."

        "Hmm. That's interesting. I didn't include that in my order." He shrugged. "Probably slipped in by mistake. I'll have to call the suppliers, see if they have the shipping list."

        Buffy stroked the gilt edged cover. "Can I keep it?"

        "Certainly."

        "If you give us money."

        "Anya!"

        Buffy paid no mind to the resulting argument. Almost in a daze, she opened the book and started to flip through.

        Table of Contents. She scanned the list of stories, all of them done in a pretty, ornate type. Let's see, which one to choose. Cinderella, no. Hansel and Gretel - been there, done that. Blue Crest? Never heard of it. Hey. Sleeping Beauty. That was always her favorite, as a kid anyway. Page 73.

        The pages seemed to fly through her fingers as she sought the right one. The book started to glow.

        The rest of the room noticed the seriously supernatural occurrence taking place.

        "Buffy, put that book down!" Giles ordered. Whatever was going on could not be good.

        Buffy acted as if he had said nothing. Instead, her hand reached out to touch the title picture.

        Of a sharp spindle.

Chapter One

        Willow watched as Giles yelled, "Buffy, put that book down!" When Buffy ignored him and touched whatever was inside that book, something HAPPENED.

        The world became all glowy and goldeny. It started around Buffy first, turning a sickly greenish glow upon touching her. Willow could only watch as her best friend fainted with a gasp. The glow then quickly spun out to encompass the entire room. Willow wished for something to hold onto as the magic engulfed her.

        There were bright colors dancing like fireworks in front of her eyes. Strange scents assailed her, from gingerbread to pumpkins. She heard bits and pieces of songs, vaguely familiar but too faint to recognize.

        Finally, it all came to a stop.

        Xander said what was on everyone's mind. "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

        And indeed they weren't. They were - how to describe it? Xander's Wizard of Oz reference proved oddly apt. This world was done in the too bright colors of Munchkinland. They were standing in a meadow, the grass a more vibrant green than ever seen on Earth. The sky was the blue of a child's coloring book, and the flowers equally intense. Willow tilted her head up to feel the sunshine, noting the unnaturally symmetrical sun in the sky, joined by picture perfect fluffy white clouds.

        Xander continued speaking. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that book was no ordinary book. What happened? And where'd Buffy go?"

        Giles took in their surroundings a moment before answering. "I would have to agree about the book. It must have been some sort of portal. As for Buffy," he sighed here, "I have no idea. We'll have to start looking."

        Willow frowned, remembering something. "When the portally thing started, Buffy got all green and glowy and then she fainted." She started panicking. "I hope she's okay!"

        As if in answer to her prayers, a pretty white light started to coalesce in front of them.

        "Here enters Glinda," whispered Xander.

        The light shimmered for a few moments more, until, to Willow's surprise, it formed into Tara!

        But Tara had a dentist's appointment. What was she doing here?

        The glowy Tara being spoke.

        "Greetings. I would offer you welcome, but fear it is in short supply. What I can do, honored guests, is offer answers to your questions. Speak and I shall aid."

        Giles nodded respectfully to Tara. "Thank you. Can you tell us where we are, and where our friend is?"

        "And why you look like my girlfriend?" Willow quickly chimed in. "Not that that's bad or anything, but still sort of ooky."

        "The land has many names. If you desire to use one, consider it the Enchanted Realm. Old powers, long forgotten even by the wise, dwell here. As for your friend," she paused, "that is another tale to be told. When the right one asks, I will answer. And to you, red witch, I say, this is but a form I wear, to alleviate all fears. This one bears kin to my kind, and as such is an easy fit."

        "What do you mean, you can't tell us what happened to Buffy," Xander demanded, "I thought you said you'd help us."

        "Those present and those connected are here. And until the right one speaks, some questions cannot be answered." Tara scanned the area, searching. "But I thought him present."

        Suddenly she gave rueful laugh. "But of course! I forgot." Now wearing an impish grin that Willow knew so well, Tara flitted over to the nearby wood. "Follow. I may be bound by rules, but there's none that say I can't move things along."

        Xander looked at Willow. Willow looked at Giles. Anya just tightened her grip on Xander's hand and sighed. Giles followed Tara.

        Tara didn't lead them that far in. Only a few yards, far enough for the patches of sunlight to become few and far between. In a clearing, unlit by sunlight, stood Spike.

        Huh? How'd he get here?

        Spike noticed them, too.

        "What's going on?" he demanded. "Witch's spell went wrong? I'm just sitting around my crypt when I find myself in the middle of a bloody forest!"

        "We're still unclear ourselves," Giles responded testily. "All we know is that Buffy activated a portal using some book and it brought us here. To the 'Enchanted Realm', apparently."

        Spike cocked his head to the side, processing the information. "Where is the Slayer, anyway?"

        "That would be part of the problem. And," Giles flicked his eyes over to the shimmering Tara, "our guide won't tell us."

        "Guide?"

        "A good as title as any. Speak and I shall aid."

        "Except when she doesn't," muttered Xander.

        "Alright, then, guide. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Spike barked.

        "No need for anger. Answers will be given,"

        "Cough, yeah right, cough."

        Tara continued speaking as if she hadn't been interrupted. "Now that all are present, the tale can be begun.

        Every story is a portal to another world. So has it been since the beginning. A sorceress of great power once bound such portals known to her within a single book. For her, she merely wrote them down. But such was her power and theirs, it became something more. For within words there are truths. Finish the tale to learn the truth.

        Your friend opened the book and began the tale. All parts are chosen. Rules are given. If you seek to return, the tale must be finished."

        "And what tale would that be?" Giles asked.

        "You call it Sleeping Beauty. A truth revealed, that. Before the spell, her eyes had already grown weary and longing for rest." Tara paused. "The task is simple - the prince must awake the sleeping princess. He can call on the rest for aid, but only he can break the curse."

        Willow looked around the group. Prince? Um, neither Giles nor Xander were exactly Buffy's Prince Charming. More like her Dad and Brother Charming. And Angel hadn't been magically spirited here. Unlike Spike, on the other hand -

        "Whoa, hold it. Please, please, please don't tell me that's why Spike is here. 'Cause he most definitely can't be the prince. I'll be the prince. OW!" Xander rubbed his sore shin and glared at Anya. "What was that for?"

        "If you're anyone's prince," Anya retorted, "you're mine!"

        "I'm the prince?" Spike felt like jumping for joy. He didn't of course, being a master vampire and all. "Spell chose ME to be the prince!"

        How did this choosing work? Giles wondered. The guide had implied that it revealed true things. As much as he despised the vampire and worried about his obsession with Buffy, there were some disturbing implications with this.

        Tara paid their reactions no mind, continuing with her instructions. An image appeared in front of them, of a path leading up to a castle.

        "The prince must travel to the Forbidden Mountain. He must go alone, but if he needs aid, he may call on each of you once. However, when he reaches the gates of the castle, he can ask for aid no longer."

        I must warn you, the dark fairy who rules the Forbidden Mountain will not lose her prize with grace. Maleficent will fight you at every turn."

        Spike snorted, "Bring it on. I bet I won't need any help, be done by daybreak."

        "Perhaps. Remember, all the strengths and weaknesses of your kind remain. Do not mock proffered aid." Tara looked each one of them in the eye. "That is all."

        With a flash, she disappeared, taking Giles, Willow, Xander and Anya with her. Spike was once again alone in the middle of the forest.

        Not that he cared. That crew would just slow him down. He started down the path, off to rescue his Slayer.

***

 

Interlude

        Buffy was standing in the middle of a meadow. Part of her realized that this was very strange and that she was supposed to be helping Giles in the Magic Box, but she ignored that part and simply accepted the surroundings for what they were.

        The meadow was empty of any signs of life. Tall grass swayed gently in the wind, butterflies flitted from flower to flower, and that faint buzzing of insects in summer hummed through the air. It had a faintly unreal quality that reminded Buffy of her dreams last year when they had called upon the Primal Slayer. But in those dreams, even peaceful moments like this had held a sense of impending danger. Buffy didn't have that feeling here.

        With nothing better to do, she picked a direction and began walking. As she moved, she realized her clothes had changed. Gone were blue jeans and a tank top. In their place, she wore a gray-blue dress with a long skirt. It swished with every step she took. Buffy didn't spend much time pondering her change of clothes. It was all part of the background for this strange meadow scene.

        She walked until she came to a creek. Buffy paused for a moment, then knelt down and peered into the water. Her reflection stared back at her, the exact image she had seen in the mirror that morning.

        The water rippled. The face she saw changed, grew younger. Buffy now saw herself as she had been five years ago.

        "A lot has changed since then," a voice said over her shoulder. Buffy looked up and saw her sophomore self standing there, wearing the dress she had faced the Master in. "You were younger, more innocent. You were going to be the first Slayer to live past twenty five. The first to go to college and graduate. The first Slayer to retire and spend the rest of her days behind a white picket fence. You didn't know how you were going to work that, but you were going to do it anyway."

        "What is this?"

        "This?" the past Buffy gestured, waving her hand to indicated their surroundings. "This is a dream."

        "Why am I dreaming?"

        "Because you're asleep."

        Buffy nodded. That made sense. She turned her attention back to the water. The Buffy of sophomore year was gone, replaced by a man she knew so well. Angel. His image was smiling at her, that faint smile she knew as the only sign he ever gave of being happy.

        "You were so pure and innocent. He loved you for that, you know." Buffy knew even without turning around that Angel now stood there. "You gave him the light he so desperately wanted and he gave you the support you so desperately needed. A match made in heaven, the two of you. Or so you thought."

        "It was."

        "It was for a time," Angel corrected, "but things changed, didn't they?"

        Angel-in-the-water rippled, grew fangs and that uniquely evil look that only Angelus could wear. Buffy jumped to her feet and drew away from the image.

        Angelus stood by the water now. He smiled. "He hurt you, didn't he? For all the strength you showed the world, he broke bits of you inside."

        Buffy watched him warily. "I survived."

        "So you did," Angelus agreed, displaying an amount of reasonability he never had shown before. "But did you?"

        Buffy scowled. Her mind was growing a little more aware, and now she was getting frustrated with this. "What's going on? What's with all the vague questions?"

        "You'll find out."

        "When?"

"When it is time for you to wake up."

Buffy clenched her fists tightly. "Can't you give me a straight answer?! Who are you?"

"You know who I am."

Angelus vanished. No one else appeared in his place.

"At least this episode of This Is Your Life is over," she muttered. With nothing better to do, she started forward towards the creek and knelt again. All the water showed her was herself.

Buffy yawned. Suddenly, she felt very sleepy. She curled up beside the creek bed. As she closed her eyes, it vaguely registered that the image in the water had changed.

It now showed Spike walking through a forest.

***
 

Chapter Two

        Spike walked down the forest path, with a little cocky swagger in his step. Sunlight trickled down through the tree branches, but not in a particularly fatal way. A few patches hit the path, but were easily avoidable.

        Spike was in an excellent mood.

        All this time, the Slayer had insisted that she hated him, he was sick and twisted, and any feelings he thought they shared were all in his head. Toss in a bit of magic, and it turns out that she's been telling lies.

        As best as Spike understood it, Buffy accidentally sucked them all into a fairy tale. Spell casts her as Sleeping Beauty and him as Prince Charming. Spike debated whether or not that made him a ponce. Nope, it didn't. It was going to get him the girl, wasn't it?

        He strolled through the woods a bit, confident that he could find this Forsaken or Forbidden Mountain or something, find Buffy, give her a good wake up kiss (he smiled at that) and go home, victorious.

Full of such thoughts, Spike walked down the wooded path, absently avoiding sunny patches. This was going to be so easy.

"OW!" Spike tripped back and rubbed his throbbing nose. He had crashed headlong into a - troll?

        He noticed that the path had ended as a big river suddenly cut through the forest. A sturdy well built bridge made a graceful arch over the rushing water. And at the bridge's opening was guarded by a ten-foot creature that could only be a troll.

        You have got to be kidding me, Spike thought.

        "Where do you thinks you a-going, puny hewmon?" demanded the troll in a gurgley, gravelly voice.

        "Well, I thinks I'm going to cross that bridge," Spike answered.

        "Then you gots to pay a toll."

        "Yes, well," Spike wracked his brain. This sounded vaguely familiar to him. Dru had a phase once where she was obsessed with children's stories. There was one with a troll and a bridge, come to think of it. "I don't think I can pay the toll. But there's someone coming behind me, my, uh," Spike thought back to the story, "my brother, now he can pay your toll. So if you'll just get out of the way and I can be on my way and he'll come along and give you the money."

        The troll didn't buy it. "You thinks I'm stupid? I hears that one before. Tasty goats tell it." The troll loomed over him. "No more goats, now. Pay toll or leave!"

        Damn.

        "Right, then. If that's how you want to play it." Spike snarled, bringing forth his game face. "Then let's have a go at it."

        "Ho ho ho, puny hewmon. You thinks you can fight me?"

        "Yeah, yeah I think I do." Spike charged the troll. The troll laughed and batted him away. Hard.

        Spike hit the ground rolling and just barely managed to twist away from a spot of sunlight. Even so, his back felt a little singed. He jumped to his feet.

        The troll watched impassively.

        Spike reconsidered his plan of attack. He stalked forward slowly, this time. When the troll moved to swing, he stepped to the side and jumped onto the troll's back, bringing his fangs into its neck.

        The troll howled, grabbed him like an irritating insect, and threw him to the ground.

Spike hit with a thud. He staggered to his feet. This was going to hurt. Even now, he felt bruised forming. Spike stepped forward, wincing a little as he put weight on his left leg. Fell a little too hard on that one.

        "Puny hewmon still thinks he's a-gonna win? I no hurt, you lots of hurt." The troll laughed a big belly laugh. "You going nowhere, puny hewmon."

        Spike growled. He was a vampire. A master vampire, dammit! He had killed two Slayers, fought and loved another, and no dirty troll was going to stop him from going where he wanted.

        He charged.

        This time, he made a better accounting for himself. The troll sported a cut or two, along with a good lump on the head, by the time Spike was flung to the ground again.

        "Puny hewmon, I always wins. That's the rules."

        Rules. Rules! The guide girl, the one who looked like Glinda, talked about rules. And about aid. Spike gritted his teeth. He might be able to defeat the troll, but it would take more time than he felt like taking. He wanted to get to Buffy as soon as possible. Spike eyed the troll. The troll eyed him back, smirking faintly.

        "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered. "Hey! Guide Girl! You said I could call up the Scoobies to lend a hand. Guide Girl, where are - "

        The being who chose to look like Tara appeared before him.

        " - you?"

        "You called and I answered. Who do you desire to come to your aid?"

        "Anya," Spike said without hesitation. Demon Girl's the only one who wouldn't lord it over him. She understood what it was like to be the odd demon out.

        "Done."

        Tara vanished, leaving Anya in her place.

        "Spike, what am I doing here? What is that overly large monster doing leering at me? What's going on?" she demanded.

        Spike pulled her aside. "I need to cross this bridge and that pillock of a troll won't let me. I can't swim because the current's too fast and I can't beat the bastard up."

        "I thought you didn't need any help," she sniped irritably. "Xander and I were about to have sex in this lovely house we got transported to - "

        "Uh-huh, that's just great. Can't you just, you know, talk to it? Make it move?"

        "Ask nicely."

        Spike rolled his eyes. "Would you please help me by dealing with this troll?"

        "Much better." Mollified, Anya marched over to the troll. "Excuse me."

        "Yes?"

        "Can my friend cross your bridge?"

        "No. You have to pays the toll to cross me bridge."

        Anya's eyes lit up. "Oh! Reasonable exchange of services and goods! Spike, I can't believe you were going to cheat this troll out of his desired remuneration. What is the toll?"

        The troll considered for a moment. No one had ever actually tried to pay the toll before. They either tried to trick him, fight him, or leave. After some serious thought, he said, "Shiny things."

        Anya turned to Spike. "Have any shiny things?"

        Spike checked his pockets. He pulled out his lighter. "This work?" He flicked the lighter on and off. The troll watched with a greedy expression on his face.

        "Nice shiny thing. Good toll."

        "See, Spike? The flow of trade and commerce are infinitely superior to fighting. Our troll friend gets his shiny thing and you cross his bridge." She sniffed a little. "Oh, I love capitalism."

        Spike gave the troll his lighter. The troll stepped away from the bridge opening and proceeded to play with it. Spike strode onto the bridge and gave Anya a wave before continuing on his way. She winked out, presumably to return to the whelp.

        Spike continued on his way. He would have preferred to beat the crap out of that snotty little troll, but this way didn't hurt as much. With any luck, this would be the last time he'd have to actually, shudder, ask for help.

Interlude

        Someone was gently shaking Buffy. Buffy opened her eyes to see Willow sitting next to her.

        "Come along, no time to sleep, there is more to see!"

        "Wha?" Buffy mumbled. She was still by the creek in the meadow; only the creek had now gained a bridge. She blinked sleep from her eyes. Was it possible to be tired in a dream?

        Willow pulled her to her feet. "You have to cross the bridge."

        "Why?"

        "Because you have come to it."

        Buffy stared at the bridge. It was simply made, an arch of stone and wood spanning a distance she could easily jump. On the other side, she saw a forest. It looked dark and more than a little scary.

        "But I don't want to."

        Willow gave her a push. "That doesn't matter. The bridge has been built. You can't stay here."

        Buffy looked around the gentle, peaceful meadow, then at the foreboding forest beyond. "But I like it here. The other side doesn't look as nice."

        "That's only because you haven't crossed the bridge yet," Willow informed her. "Now go on."

        Slowly, Buffy walked up and onto the bridge. Midway, she peered over the side and into the water. Sophomore Buffy and Angel were holding hands and waving at her. Were they saying good-bye or come back? Maybe she should turn around and check -

        "Ignore them," Willow told her. "They might belong here, but you don't."

        Buffy nodded and finished crossing the bridge. On the other side, it was still a little dark. But she was the Slayer, right? A little darkness never hurt her.

        She walked into the woods a little ways, when she found Faith leaning against a tree. Faith was wearing a flowery, pink dress and looked more open and less hostile than Buffy could ever believe she could.

        "You came this far," Faith told her, "but you have farther to go."

        "I do?"

        "You always have farther to go. Haven't you learned that yet?"

        The two walked down the path, side by side.

        "But what if I want to stop?" Buffy asked.

        "Then you stop. But then you don't get to see the next dawn."

        The sun was rising over the treetops. Buffy looked up and shaded her eyes from the glare. "It's beautiful."

        "Remember that," Faith suggested. "Remember the dawn."

        "Because then I won't want to stop?" Buffy guessed.

        Faith smiled and nodded. "Yes."

        Something in Buffy's mind started to stir. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

        Faith shook her head. "No. But when the time comes, you will know."

        "That's real helpful." Buffy paused. "Are you Faith?"

        "Faith is in prison and you are dreaming. How can I be?" Faith shrugged. "You know who I am."

        "So they keep telling me." Buffy sighed and continued walking. She was eager for when this would all make sense. Apparently she had to 'keep going' to get any answers.

        Buffy continued down the path.

        Faith watched her go and sighed. "I hope this works," she muttered to herself.

Chapter Three

        By the time Spike reached the open road, night had fallen, something for which he was very grateful. In the course of his trip through the forest, he had had to chase a wolf from a little girl (only because she looked like Dawn), try to give directions to a little boy and girl (he had no idea where he had sent them), and point a pretty dark haired young woman to a cottage he had passed by (it was already inhabited by seven dwarves, but whatever). None of this had taken long, but it had still been annoying.

        Now that he was out in the open, he hoped to avoid any more interruptions. There wasn't anywhere to go when the sun rose, so he had better get somewhere safe soon.

        With that thought in mind, Spike was pleased to finally find a town. Only problem was a high wall surrounded it.

        He walked up to the gate and knocked. Nothing. He knocked louder. Nothing.

        "Hello! Hey, poor lone traveler out here! Anybody home?"

        Something peered over the top of the gate. It bounded down to stand in front of him. It was a sphinx. With the whole head of a woman, body of a lioness things going.

        "Do you desire to enter?"

        "Yes! Now be a luv and open the gate, would you?"

        The sphinx licked her paws a moment. "No."

        "No?" Spike opened his mouth to say something nasty. "Then - "

        "I won't open the gate on your request alone. But I will open it if you prove yourself worthy."

        Okay. That didn't sound too bad. "How do I do that?"

        The sphinx smiled, a nice toothy one that Spike could appreciate. "Answer my riddles three."

        "Well then, ask away."

        The sphinx stretched out, yawned moment, then said:

"I think you'll like this one.

As I went over London Bridge

I met my sister Jenny

I broke her neck and drank her blood

And left her standing empty."

        Spike perked up. He knew this one! "Gin." Riddles like that made him long for the old days...

"Very good, vampire. How about this one?

With thieves I consort,

With the vilest, in short,

I'm quite at ease in depravity;

Yet all divines use me,

And savants can't lose me,

For I am the center of gravity."

        Ugh. That was a bit harder sounding. For the unlife of him, Spike didn't have a clue what the riddle was saying, let alone what the answer was. 'With thieves I consort', so it had to be something bad. The next two lines suggested the same idea, 'With the vilest, in short, I'm quite at ease in depravity'. But just when he starts to figure out the clues, the next line is 'Yet all the divines use me'. Huh? How did we get from thieves to divines? Was it the god of thieves that was the answer? No, because ALL the divines use whatever the answer was.

        Spike was starting to get frustrated. What the hell could the answer be? He tried to look at the last two lines. 'And savants can't lose me, For I am the center of gravity'. Those two sort of went together, but seemed to have nothing to do with the previous ones.

        Spike thought he was fairly good at riddles. Back before daytime television and such, there really wasn't much else to do sitting around the crypt. Dru had even dragged him to a contest once. He'd lost, but had given a good accounting for himself. Of course, most of that had been in bloodshed.

        Something about the contest. Dru had told him something, hadn't she? What was it? 'Tricks in tricks are the stories they tell. Look at the top before digging deep.'

        Right then. Try to see if there is a connection. A surface connection. Spike considered the words again. He was starting to get a bit frantic. The sun was rising now, and out in the open like this it would hit him soon.

        The sphinx watched him lazily, idly grooming herself. "Either answer or leave, vampire. Or," she said with a shrug, "be dusted."

        Don't panic. You've got one more riddle to go, Spike. Just have to figure out this one. What do these have in common?

        "V. The letter V," Spike said suddenly, positive that was the right answer. It had to be.

        "Well done. One more answered and I'll open the gates for you. Better answer quickly, the sun will shine down soon.

Think of words ending in -GRY. Angry and hungry are two of them. There are only three words in the English language. What is the third word? The word is something that everyone uses every day. If you have listened carefully, I have already told you what it is."

        Spike's mind went blank. If the last one was bad, this one was worse! And he didn't have much time left. He couldn't go save Buffy if he was a pile of dust. There was only one thing to do.

        "Guide, I need some help here. Send me, uh," who was best for the job? "Send me the Watcher."

        "Done."

        Giles appeared there, glasses askew and more than a little rumpled. "Spike. What an unpleasant surprise."

        "Listen, Watcher, I need to get past this gate here. Sphinx won't let me in unless I answer her riddles, only there isn't enough time to think them through."

        "So you need my help?"

        Spike shrugged. "You're big with the book know-how. Figured you'd be good at riddles, too."

        "Why should I help you?" Giles demanded coldly. This was a perfect opportunity to get rid of the obsessed vampire once and for all.

        "Because if I turn to dust, Slayer stays all Sleeping Beauty. Remember that, Watcher?"

        Giles really, really wanted to do nothing and let the vampire turn to dust. But Spike was right. If whatever spell had brought them here had cast Spike in role of Buffy's rescuer, then killing Spike trapped them all in this Enchanted Realm.

        "What is this riddle?"

        The sphinx repeated it. Giles thought a moment. It sounded familiar. Discard the first part, base it on the second - Spike fidgeted impatiently beside him. Giles flicked his eyes at him. He had a good idea what the answer was, but he wasn't going to say it anytime soon. Spike deserved to sweat a little.

        Only when the sun was practically upon them did Giles finally speak.

        "I believe the answer is language."

        "Correct." The sphinx inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement. "The gates will open for the vampire."

        Spike dashed through without giving the Watcher a thank you. He needed to get inside and fast, thank you very much.

        Giles blinked out to return to the little cottage they were waiting in until this mess was solved. He couldn't say he was surprised Spike hadn't said thank you. The vampire was one of the rudest individuals he had ever met. Unfortunately, Spike was also in love with his Slayer. And it seemed that Buffy might not hate him as much as she had protested.

        There was much to think about.

Chapter Four

        After spending the day huddling in dank, nasty shed that made his crypt look comfortable, Spike wandered down the streets of the town. The moon was high on the sky, the painful sun having gone down some time ago.

        Over the top of the wall, he could see the mountain, a dark and foreboding silhouette against the night sky. According to Tara, that was where Maleficent held Buffy, where he had to go.

        If only he could figure out how to get there. Once he had entered the town, his sense of direction had gotten messed up. The streets twisted and turned, reminding him of all those little towns back in the Europe.

        He had hated those towns. So easy to get lost in. You know what? He hated this town now.

        Grumbling, Spike tried for the umpteenth time to find the exit. The right exit, that is. Not the one he had come through, but one on the other side. Only, at the moment, he could find neither.

        Spike decided now was the time to try the roof top route. He stared at them warily. A bit more thatch and straw than he liked, but hopefully if he shimmied on up he could get his bearings.

        One good jump, courtesy of his vampiric powers, sent Spike to the roof of the nearest house. Just barely keeping his balance, he scanned the area to see in what direction the gate was. Finally picking it out, he marked the location and started to climb down, then thought the better of it. Instead, he carefully picked his way across the rooftops towards the presumed exit.

        "Bloody hell!"

        Spike tumbled down the too slick slate of one house's rooftop, only to land in an undignified heap on the street.

        A creaky old laugh mocked him as he stood up and dusted himself off. "Quite impressive, jester. Do you have any other tricks you do at the fair?"

        Spike turned to see an old woman, sitting in a rocking chair under the eaves of the ill-fated slate roofed house. Her lips were curved up in a toothless old smile as she watched him from her post.

        He gave her snarl, face flickering into its demonic form.

        "And what a nice trick that is, jester. Though you'd be hard pressed to do that one in daylight."

        "Sod off." Spike turned to stomp away.

        "Now that's not a nice thing to say to an old lady. Especially one who might help you."

        Spike paused and looked at her, interested. "What's that?"

        The old woman leaned back into her chair. "You know, I think you're right. You should go on your way and pay no mind to little old me."

        Spike was in her face in an instant. "What. Did. You. Say?"

        "You should control that temper of yours a bit better, jester. It will only lead to you losing those you love," the old woman chided, not in the least bit threatened.

        Spike pulled himself away from her. "Who are you?" he demanded.

        "An old woman enjoying the night air. And who are you?"

        "My name is Spike. Want to know how I got that name? I - "

        "Got it by driving railroad spikes into your victims' heads. Yes, I know about you William the Bloody Awful Poet."

        Spike gaped at her. He thought there wasn't anybody left alive who knew about that.

        "This is the Enchanted Realm, William. You shouldn't be so surprised. All lot of things forgotten are known here."

        "You said you can help me," he insisted. "How?"

        "And why should I help a nasty tempered vampire like you? What are you doing that's so special?"

        "You're the all-knowing one here, you figure it out."

        The old woman said nothing. She merely watched him intently.

        "Slayer's under some sort of spell. She's being held up into the castle in the mountains and I want to get her out of there." There. He'd said it. Now would she help?

        "Why do you care about the fate of a Slayer, vampire?"

        "Because I love her," he bit out.

        "Do you? How do you know it's love, and not mere lust for the forbidden?"

        "Because I care about her! I don't want to see her hurt, I don't want to see her friends hurt, even the ones I don't like very much. Because I'd rather her be happy than for me to be. Because if it was just some stupid crush like she keeps telling me, then I could leave her to her problems and go out and get myself a life!"

        The old woman did not respond for a minute or two. Then she said, "I believe you, vampire. I believe you love the Slayer."

        "So will you help me?" After a moment's thought, he added, "Please?"

        "Now were those words so hard to say? I will help you, vampire. I have a map that will lead you to Maleficent's castle, and I will give it to you." The old woman reached into her sleeve and pulled out a tattered old scrap of paper, barely legible lines marking it.

        Spike quickly snatched it from her hand and unrolled it.

        The old woman sat back with a sigh. Rome wasn't built in a day and neither were a vampire's manners.

        Carefully reading the map, Spike was able to make his way to the correct gate. When he got there, however, he found it as solidly locked and barred as the one he had found before it.

        "Hello? Anybody there? Gatekeeper? Sphinx? Innocent passerby here needs to get out!"

        From an old wooden hut leaning against the wall, an old hunchbacked man wandered what. "Who's there? Somebody asking for the gatekeeper?"

        "Yeah, me. I'd like to get out of this place, if you don't mind," Spike informed him.

        "Can it wait until morning? Opening the gate takes an awful lot of work and I have other things to do," the old man complained.

        By now Spike was getting an idea of how things worked in this realm. "What do you have to do?" he asked.

        "Well," the old man began, "I'm a baker by trade. The gate's more of a side thing, if you get my meaning. I have to have all my baking done by morning if I'm going to have a good day. And if you keep bothering me about opening the gate, then I can't do that, y'see?"

        "So if I did the baking, you'd open the gate?"

        The old man thought about it a minute. "That would work. As long as you don't burn anything, folk would eat it happily enough. It's a deal. Bakery's back in the shed."

        Spike went in and stared at the piles of ingredients and dough and who knows what else. He had no idea where to start. Thankfully, he had a plan.

        If he remembered correctly, Red was a pretty decent chef when she had to be.

        "Guide Girl - "

        "Yes?" The Tara being or fairy or whatever she was now stood there, an eternally patient look on her face.

        "I'd like to have Willow come and help me."

        "Done."

        And in an instant, Willow was standing where Tara had been. She took one look at her surroundings, then turned to him and asked, "What is it that you need me for?" She'd obviously been filled in by the others how this worked.

        Spike quickly explained the situation to her. Willow's lips quirked up as she listened to him. "So exactly what is your contribution going to be?"

        "I'll stir," he offered helpfully.

        Willow gave him an incredulous look. "Why don't you go see if the gate baker man opened it up yet?"

        "You don't think I can cook?"

        "I think this will go faster without explaining everything to you."

        "And when this is over?"

        "You owe me big time."

        Spike nodded. Made sense. He headed for the door.

        "And Spike?"

        "Yeah?"

        "If I find out that you hurt Buffy, I will burn you from the inside out."

        "Thought that was if I even thought about Buffy," he pointed out.

        Willow smiled. "Serious Scooby discussions have come to the conclusion that if Buffy's funky dream world has you as her prince, we will support her decision. And then gleefully torture you if you screw up."

        "Fair enough." Spike gave her a wave. "Hopefully, it won't come to that."

        He went out the gate, cheerily flipped the old gatekeeper the bird, checked his map, and started walking.

***

        High up in the Forbidden Mountain, Maleficent watched the vampire go on his merry way.

        "This is not going according to plan at all. The vampire is on good terms with his helpers, he's successfully completed all the obstacles he has confronted, and he will be here within the day!"

        Angry purple lightening arced across the room and struck a cowering minion. Maleficent didn't notice.

        "And the girl - those fairies are meddling with her sleep, I know they are. Making her dream that, that vampire is her Prince Charming! It's positively laughable!" She threw herself into her throne. Her lips curved up in a cruel smile. "What a pleasant turn of fortune it is that she agrees with me. I'll have to be very careful to keep her in that belief when that cursed vampire gets here!"

        A thought occurred to the dark fairy. "My pet," she crooned to the crow perched on her throne. "My pet, fly down to the giant who guards the entrance to my fair castle. Tell that when the vampire comes, set him to an impossible task. One the vampire has no chance of completing. Do you understand?"

        The crow cawed an answer and flew off to do her bidding.

        "Things should be working out very nicely now. The vampire doesn't come, the girl remains asleep, and things turn out happily ever after - for me."

        Maleficent stretched out in her throne, her gloating laugh echoing throughout the halls. All her minions cowered in their places, fearful of their mistress.

Interlude

        Buffy lay curled up by the stream, back where she had started. Her mind was a mass of confusion. For once, the clarity that so often eluded her throughout the dream remained. And she knew, without a doubt, that this was where she belonged. In the sunny field, where if she looked in the water she could see a long ago Buffy and Angel smiling and together. Where she wasn't dancing with Spike. No, definitely not.

        "You think too much," a familiar voice announced. Buffy raised her head to see her mother kneeling beside her. "The clarity you fight for in these dreams only keep you from the truth."

        "I like to know what's going on," Buffy answered warily, moving to her feet.

        "When you are awake, that is good. But you are sleeping now. It is the time to watch, to see what unfolds. To be a passive observer and learn from what your mind reveals. This dream is no trick, Buffy. Everything here belongs to you. Only you. Even the pieces you don't want to admit to owning."

        "Then where are the hot guys with the massage oil?" Buffy asked, in her classic 'witty repartee' voice. "And the calorie-free triple chocolate sundae?"

        "That sort of dream is a moment's thought, your mind resting from all the troubles of the day. This dream is about deeper things." Joyce reached out and held Buffy's hand. "Relax, let it flow. See where it takes you. Think no more about right or wrong. Simply feel."

        "So I won't wake up with the crazy Spike lust?" Buffy demanded, refusing to give in just yet.

        "Only if that's what you really want," reassured Joyce. "Let go. Close your eyes. Just let yourself be."

        "But - "

        "It will all be okay. Nothing here is binding. Consider this only an exploration of possibilities."

        Buffy found herself lulled by the words and relaxed. She slowly closed her eyes and let Joyce pull her forward a few steps.

        "Open," her mother's voice whispered in her mind.

        Buffy was standing inside a small cottage. In front of her stood Giles, Willow, and Xander. In very funny clothes.

        "They were going to make it pink, but I insisted on red," Giles told her.

        Xander poked him in the shoulder. "I lucked out. I got to be blue."

        Willow simply watched them, laughing a little. Her own green dress swished gently with her chuckles.

        Buffy felt herself want to question, to demand answers for this strange sight. But she obeyed her mother's directive and allowed herself to simply flow. She felt herself slip into that dazed awareness and acceptance that had filled so much of this dream.

        "You should go out now," Giles told her, giving her a push to the door.

        "And gather some berries," Willow added, handing her a basket.

        "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," Xander said as he helped her out the door.

        Buffy stood outside the cottage a moment and then started walking down the path. She felt a little lonely, walking all alone. But she didn't mind it too much.

        She finally came to stream lined with bush after bush of blueberries. Finding a seat on a nearby rock, Buffy idly began to pick berries while looking into the water.

        At first she saw only herself. Then the water rippled, and showed a scene she'd never seen before.

        A man she vaguely recognized, with sharp cheekbones and blue eyes, was being mocked by a group of people. Buffy found herself a little angry on the poor man's behalf. He seemed like a good man. She watched him confront a beautiful woman. She never heard a word, but obviously the woman had said something to hurt the man's feelings. He ran into the street crying, only to meet up with a dark beauty who Buffy thought also looked familiar.

        "That is the past," someone informed her. Buffy turned away from the water to see Dawn sitting on a rock near her. "Everything that is of the now comes from the then. The man he is now is based so much on the man he was then. Remember that."

        Buffy nodded thoughtfully and then returned to look into the water.

        It now showed the same man, a little more familiar in appearance now. He was talking, no, pleading, to a woman who looked an awful lot like Buffy. But in her dream state, Buffy was merely observing, not making any connections. The man had done something wrong and was trying to apologize, but the woman wouldn't listen. She shut her door in his face instead. Buffy was sad that the woman hadn't even listened to the man's apology. The fact that he tried should count for something, shouldn't it?

        Yet another ripple, and now the man was standing in a dark room, his hands tied above his head. He was badly beaten and in pain. A beautiful blonde stood near him. She was the source of all the pain, and would keep hurting him unless he answered her questions. But the beaten man was protecting someone, someone special to him. He said nothing.

        "Near-past and near-future, so close the now to be the present. They say much, don't they, these frozen moments?"

        "What about the far future?" Buffy asked. "What does that say?"

        Dawn gave an impish smile. "It has yet to be. So many possibilities stem from a single moment. There is nothing to be said for them, for they are not yet even the beginnings of a thought." She stood and began to leave. As if remembering something, Dawn turned to Buffy and said, "The only thing that can be said is choose your future wisely. Don't spend it sleeping. Wake up and live."

        Buffy nodded and watched Dawn go. When the girl was no longer in sight, she picked up her basket to walk back to the cottage.

        On her way, she met a strange man. He reminded her of the one she saw in the water.

        "We've met before," he told her.

        "We have?"

        "Yes. You know that's true." He smiled at her and took her basket away and set it on the ground. "Do you want to dance?"

        Buffy smiled, remembering a little. "That's all we've ever done."

        A familiar song swelled throughout the air.

        And they danced.

***

        Maleficent stared into her crystal and let loose a thousand curses. The girl was not supposed to do that! She was supposed to remember her hatred and hold it strong, to cling to the belief the vampire was her enemy and nothing else.

        No matter. This was only a small problem. Regardless of the powers such dreams were said to hold, Maleficent knew that it was one thing to dream, and another for the actions to carry over into reality. The girl may believe herself to be in love right now, but even the accursed meddlers would agree she was not thinking with her mind.

        They would say the girl was thinking clearly, though, only this time with her heart. But Maleficent knew this girl's history. She had ignored her heart before. There was still a chance Maleficent could win.

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