"Are you sure about this?" Tara seemed uncertain. It was weird -- she was so strong, so good at this, but she still seemed almost scared of certain spells that were well within their reach.

Well. Willow looked down at the spellbook in her lap. She thought it was within their reach, anyway. But how could they learn, if they didn't try? Besides, it was a good spell. A positive energy, thoughtful wishing-well spell. Nothing could go wrong.

"But I didn't know!" Willow wailed.

Giles let out a noise that might have been a sigh, and dropped the curtain. Outside his apartment, the streets were filled with the drifting shadows of ghosts. "You didn't think, you mean," he said firmly. "What on earth possessed you to cast a spell of the dead this close to all hallows' eve?"

"And thereby trapping us in here, the one night we could have been out without slayage worries," Buffy said, grumpy, from her spot on the sofa. Tonight was supposed to have been their reunion of sorts. Old Gang night. Angel and Cordelia had even come down

for the evening. Okay, so they'd brought Wesley back with them, too, but she supposed he was old Gang too, in a weird way. At least he seemed to have grown out of what Giles called his piss and whinge mode, not to mention the whole mooning over Cordelia thing. Okay, he still mooned. But it wasn't a mutual moonage, so it was easier to deal with, just Wesley being his usual Wesley self.

But now, with Will's spell having way more effect that she'd planned, Giles didn't want anyone going anywhere, until they figured out what was going on, and if it was of the harmful kind of spookage. He was being a Watchery spoilsport.

"I don't know what the deal is," Cordelia said, shrugging. "I mean, I live with a ghost. No problems whatsoever."

"Dennis is a rather different situation," Wesley said, and Angel nodded in agreement. "Unbound spirits can cause a lot of trouble, if they want to. And we don't know for sure if they're going to go away on their own, or if we're going to have to banish them somehow."

Willow was nearly in tears. "I just wanted..." her voice trailed off.

"Yes?" Giles prompted her.

"She wanted a chance to say goodbye," Buffy said, coming to the defense of her friend. "A chance to clear the air, stuff that hadn't been said, that kind of thing." Closure was something she understood, oh yeah.

"But I thought it would be, you know, limited," Willow continued. "Just on me, as the focus of the spell, not everywhere!"

"There are a lot of people in Sunnydale who've lost someone," a voice came from the doorway. Xander dropped his glass, and it shattered, spreading soda all over the wood floor. Giles didn't say a word in recriminations, his complete attention on the doorway, where a too-familiar figure stood.

There was silence in the apartment. Buffy stood up in alarm, one hand reaching automatically for a stake despite the fact that she knew that this wasn't a vampire. Xander looked at Giles for a cue, and Cordelia raised one hand to cover her mouth, stiffling any sound she might have made. Wesley put a hand on her shoulder, his gaze flitting around the room to gauge reactions. Angel had blanched the moment he realized who their visitor was, and moved even further into the shadows, hoping not to be seen.

"Jenny..." That choked-off voice was Giles'.

A few heartbeats later, Willow flew forward, not even thinking that the apparition in front of them might not be corporeal. But when her arms went around the older woman, the flesh underneath was solid, if a little too cool to be completely alive and human.

"Jenny?" Willow this time, her voice breaking on the last syllable.

"Shh, Willow. I'm here," Jenny Calander reassured her former student. But her gaze seemed fastened on Giles' shocked stare. "That was what you wanted, wasn't it? A chance to say goodbye?" She pulled back a little, and smiled down into Willow's tear-streaked face. "Well, we have it. Nice spell, by the way. A little overenthusiastic, though. You still haven't learned to take into account the magical instability of your surroundings."

Willow smiled in return, more than a little shaky, and pulled back, glancing over her shoulder at Giles, who had given her much the same lecture before. Jenny looked back at her lover as well, and let her smile turn a little more devilish. "Nothing to say, English?"

He took a deep breath, let it out, and merely smiled at her. But it was a smile that said a million things, all of them deeply personal, and private, and her eyes gleamed in return. They had made their goodbyes already, each in their own way. They both understood that this was merely a brief reprise, and treasured it for that.

"Buffy, Xander," Jenny greeted them each with a smile. "Cordelia. And don't think I can't see you, back there," she added, raising her voice slightly. "Stop skulking."

Angel stepped forward reluctantly, looking down at the ground. Jenny sighed, then rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. Walking forward, she stepped around the furniture between them, reaching up to grab at his shirtfront. "Hey. You."

He looked at her then.

"It's okay, Angel." She nodded slowly, combating the doubt she saw in his eyes. "Yes, it is. It's okay. I wasn't an innocent. I knew what Angelus was, and I knew what the risks were. It's over. Let it go."

"Yah, well, that's something he's not so good with, the letting go bit."

Everyone turned to stare at the newcomer, five faces showing puzzlement and a little confusion. Cordelia's mouth moved, but no noise escaped. "Didn't mean ta interrupt, but I was in the neighborhood, an..."

Buffy finally got a handle on the face and the voice, and frowned. "You work with Angel, right? I saw you when I went up to L.A... how come you're just in...the...oh." She looked at Angel for confirmation.

Angel's face was ashen. "Doyle. Oh, god, Doyle..."

"Still fightin' the good fight, hey?"

The vampire nodded, stepping away from Jenny carefully, as though his bones were made of glass and might shatter with one misstep. "Yeah." His gaze flicked to Cordelia, then back to his dead friend.

Doyle didn't need that giveaway to know where Cordelia was, however. He had already moved further into the apartment, a crooked smile lighting his face under eyes that showed a marked uncertainty. "Princess?"

She didn't move, watching him approach the way a mouse might a cobra.

"'Delia?" He knelt beside her, ignoring Wesley's hand on her shoulder as though it were nothing. She reached forward, the tips of her fingers brushing along the side of his temples, trailing down his jawline, tracing the curve of his lips, then back up again, cupping the side of his face in her palm. He leaned into the caress, sighing in pleasure and relief.

"You bastard," she said softly.

"I know, darling. I know."

Angel looked at Jenny, who had moved closer to Giles, letting him capture her by the waist.

"How long?" the vampire asked.

"For this kind of spell, with Willow's power, and a kick of the Hellmouth?" She considered it a moment. "Twelve hours," she said finally. "From dusk to dawn, more or less."

"And it just brings out dead souls, looking for their loved ones?" Buffy asked, trying to work it out. Willow nodded, and Jenny added her agreement.

"So, no vigilance needed, all of the good?"

Jenny smiled, and nodded again, leaning back into Giles' embrace. "All of the good."

Buffy sighed in contentment. "I'm assuming we're still staying in tonight, tho?"

Willow grinned, her confidence restored. "I'll order the pizzas."

Willow curled herself on the sofa, and looked out at the apartment with an air of self-satisfaction. She'd only intended for the spell to be her way of reaching out, maybe getting a little closure. She had thought to send a message into the ether, maybe get a message back, that sort of thing. But this, this was so much better.

Her gaze touched on Jenny, who was talking to Buffy. That had been a healing she hadn't even thought of. But it was good. And Angel.. that was good, too. Especially after all that with the First Evil... She shuddered at the memory.

Her satisfaction waned a little, though, when she looked at Cordelia and the guy they called Doyle. She'd been curled up in his arms all night, not letting him go at all, like he was going to disappear the moment she took her eyes off him. They fit together nice, like...well, like something that fit together really well. Poor Wesley. She hadn't even spoken to him all night. She hadn't spoken much to anyone all night, actually. She hadn't had any of the pizza, either. And the way Angel kept coming over, just reaching out and touching Doyle, on the sleeve, or the shoulder...

They must have missed him a lot. Wesley had said it was a sudden death, but he didn't have any details. They never talked about Doyle, Wesley said, except to not talk about him. Whatever that meant.

It seemed like just leaving Sunnydale wasn't enough to escape bad things happening. Okay, so she'd known that, but having proof was another thing entirely.

"It's almost dawn," Giles said. She started slightly. He could move almost as quietly as Angel, sometimes.

"I know." She paused. "Are you going to be okay?"

He nodded, taking a sip of the scotch he had broken open for the occasion, which only he and Doyle had touched. "Yes. You?"

"I think so. Do you think... is it going to be tough for them? To go back, I mean."

Giles shook his head, his eyes gentle as he looked at Jenny as she laughed at something Xander had said. "No. I think, wherever they are, wherever their souls rest, they're content with it. What was and what is don't bother them so much. It's only the living who still hurt."

Willow nodded, a little reassured.

"So then we all had to get out of there, riding in the garbage truck." Angel shook his head, an expression of distaste on his features. "We didn't get rid of the smell for weeks, and Cordelia made me buy her an entire new outfit."

"You got off cheap," she said in response, reveling in the feel of Doyle's rumble of laughter in his chest, the weight of his arms clasped around her shoulders.

"Oh, I wish I coulda' seen it," he said to them. "Although I'm just as pleased not have experienced it firsthand, I think."

Cordelia made a faint sound of protest, and his arms tightened around her. "Sorry, princess. You're right. I'd willingly wade through a trash compactor with you any day."

"Idiot." But she was smiling as she said it. "You have a really weird idea of a good date."

Jenny came by just then, touching him briefly on the shoulder. He looked up, and saw the warning in her eyes. Time. He sighed, and looked at Angel, as Jenny went on to start making her final farewells. "She's right, you know."

Angel didn't have to ask what he was talking about. "I know." He paused, then went on. "Doyle, I..."

"No. Don't... it's okay, man. Like the lady said, I knew what I was into. May not have liked it, but you play the hand you're dealt. And folding's part of the playing."

"No." Cordelia's voice was barely a whisper.

"Princess..."

"No!" This time it was louder, and the others in the room stilled at her outburst. "I can't do this. I can't. I won't!" She tore herself out of Doyle's hold, and slipped off the sofa, backing away from him. "You can't ask me to do this. Not again. Damn it, it's not fair!"

Wesley made a start towards her; then stopped, uncertain, when Angel caught his eye and shook his head in warning.

"Cordelia..." Doyle's voice was soft, pleading. "Ah, don't cry, princess. Please don't cry. I don't want to go when you're cryin'."

"Then don't." She took the hand he was stretching out to her, gripping it like a lifeline. "Don't go. Stay."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Cordelia looked at Willow. "You cast this spell. Why can't he stay? Who do they have to go back at all?"

"Good question," Xander said, his voice surprisingly husky. "What happens, if you're still here when the spell ends?"

"I don't know," Jenny said. "Nothing good. We have to go. Now." But neither of them moved, held fast by Cordelia's hand on his. Then her gaze fell from his pale eyes, and her fingers loosened their grip.

"Go." The word was barely a whisper. "I can't...I can't keep you here, not when it's not right. Only..." She looked up again her dark eyes glistening with tears. "Don't forget me?"

Doyle caught up her hands in his again, warming them with his touch. "You're going to live a long, happy life," he told her. "You'll have beautiful babies, and be a blessing and a menace to your husband, and have all the joys you can handle. And when it all ends, at the very end, I'll be waitin' there, ta bring ya home."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He lifted her hands to his mouth, brushed a kiss over them, touching each finger individually. She bit back a sob, and managed to smile at him, one last time.

Then the first ray of sunlight flickered over the horizon, and they were gone.