In the kitchen, she sprinkled a liberal amount of leaves into a small steel ball. Sheena had promised they'd deliver her a dreamless sleep and -- certainly -- her last order had done just that. Just after the battle with the General. The tea-shop owner had been kind enough to give her more, now. Buffy hadn't even asked.

But she had been humbled.

Buffy held her palms hard against here cheeks while she waited for the water to boil. Jack was all well and good; Jack was great. But -- of course -- what she wanted right now was the ability to curl up with Willow.

The water hissed and steamed as she poured it into her mug. Over that fragrant little steel ball. The mug'd contents changed colour almost immediately, a pale almost-yellow before darker tea colours billowed up from below.

At least this was a tastier tea than the other one. She breathed it in while balancing it precariously in both hands. And walking back to their room and he...

She peered in. Yes -- he looked to be asleep. Of course, the lamp was still on. And the magazine was still rumpled on the sheets. But there was no room for Buffy Summers. No. No room at all unless she wanted to risk moving him.

The floor would do.