"I don't see any booze," the engaged woman said and looked around the shop, "I don't feel any head bumps, and I don't see Allen Funt." She tightened her grip on her fiancé's hand.

"Who?" asked the smarmy flirt. What the hell was the stupid girl talking about? When the others looked at him, he started to panic. "Okay. I'm not panicking. I'm not. I'm really not." His voice raised a notch or two higher. "Stop looking at me like I'm panicking!"

"Hey, take it easy, guy," the blond woman said soothingly. "Okay, no one's hurt, right? None of us look all hatchety-murdery. So, we're probably safe here." She looked around the room. "Where ever here is."

"Why don't we look through our pockets for some identification," announced the older Brit. He felt around his body until he found his wallet in his hip pocket. He removed it, and he flipped through it in search of identification. "Ah, here it is. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I have a name."

"Oh, I'm Willow Rosenberg," the redheaded woman announced. "Weird name Willow. Oh and I go to U.C. Sunnydale." She showed the ID to the smarmy flirt.

"My name's Tara, and I go to the same college," the shy dishwater blonde girl said. She smiled at the others through the curtain of her hair. "Maybe we're study buddies."

"My name's Alexander Harris," the dark haired young man from the table replied, "But it appears my girl doesn't have a wallet." He smiled down at her.

"Oh, but I have this key around my neck." She lifted the key to show the others. "Maybe I should see if it unlocks the register or something." The others nodded in agreement, and the strawberry blonde woman hurried behind the counter. She crowed when the key worked in the register lock. "Hey, my name is Anya. I run this shop with a Rupert Giles. I wonder which one of you is Rupert?"

"I'd off m'self if my name was Rupert," the blond Brit said sarcastically, "It's all yours, mate." He held his hand up, and he let the smarmy flirt take the newly found identity.

"Neato," the newly named Rupert Giles replied. "I'm a business owner. Bet I make lots of money." He winked smarmily at Willow, again. Only this time he included Tara.

"I'm Cordelia Chase of Los Angeles, California," the dark haired girl from the table said. "Hey, it says here I'm an actress. Wonder if I'm any good?"

"I don't have a wallet," the teenage girl muttered sadly. Now she wouldn't find out whom she belonged to.

"Neither do we," the blond woman declared while she indicated herself and the blond Brit. "Hey look." She pointed at the piece of jewelry around the teenager's neck. "A necklace with your name on it. You're Dawn."

"Or, Umad." Dawn smiled at the shorter woman. "So neither of you have a name?" She smiled at the blond man as well as the woman. They looked so good together. The newly named Dawn just hoped that someday she would find someone she fit with as good as these two seemed to.

"I'm sure we must." The blond woman smiled at the blond Brit. "Maybe we should name ourselves. How about Bob and Joan?"

"Don't bloody think so, luv," the blond Brit growled. "I like Sid and Nancy, myself." He pulled the blond woman against him, and he sniffed her hair. He suddenly realized his senses were heightened, and he felt very protective about certain people in the room.

"No, I don't think so," Dawn disagreed, "I think you look more like Will and Beth." She nodded her head before turning to the others. "I named them. This is Will and Beth."

"Hey, maybe I wanted to call myself Joan," Beth declared. She squinted her eyes menacingly at the teenager.

"No! That is such a blah name." Dawn turned back to Beth, not at all intimidated by the older female. "I don't care what you say. You're not naming yourself Joan, and that's final."

"God, you're a brat."

"Well, you're bossy."

"Do you think we're ... sisters?" Beth and Dawn exclaimed together. They immediately began to hug one another. Then Beth turned to the others. "I think we need to find some help. I think the hospital is our best bet."

Before anyone could respond to Beth's hospital suggestion, the door of the shop opened and a distinguished looking older man stepped into the store. He looked around at the group with a certain amount of uncertainty on his face. The expression turned to astonishment when the smarmy flirt rushed forward with his hand out for a handshake.

"Welcome to the shop. My name is Rupert Giles." The dark haired man shook the older man's hand. "Over there is my partner, Anya. Can we sell you something?"

"Angel, are you completely daft?"

"No, I don't think I'm daft." Angel turned to look at the others. "Do you all think I'm daft? What does daft mean?" He turned back to the other man. "You know us?"

"Of course I know you all," Giles replied indignantly. "Really Buffy, what is going on around here? Why the hell is Angel pretending to be me?" He moved towards the petite blond girl.

"I knew your name wasn't Joan," Dawn crowed triumphantly. She giggled when the blond woman gave her a dirty look.

"Well, you picked Beth."

"Well, both Beth and Buffy are formed from the name Elizabeth," Giles replied, and then he pointed to the blond man, "I'm sure Spike doesn't have any ID either, since he never carries any. What did you name him, and why are you naming each other?"

"He wanted to be Sid, but I overrode that and named him Will," Dawn answered. She watched in amazement when Giles burst into laughter.

"What the bloody hell is so funny, mate?" Spike growled. His eyes flashed yellow, but the only one to notice was Buffy.

Calm down, Will, Buffy said soothingly. Somehow Spike suited the blond man's style, but Will just felt more intimate, and for some reason it fit just right. She rubbed his back in a soothing manner.

"Oh God," Giles spoke between sputtering chuckles. "Your name from before was William. I can't believe Dawn was so spot on with your names." He slowly sobered up long enough to study the others in the room. "So, can anyone tell me what is happening here? How about you, Wesley?"

"Well, um," Wesley stuttered before he stood up confidently to continue, "We woke up here, and apparently none of us have any memory of who we are. So we checked our IDs to determine our identities." He pointed at the people as he called out their names. "Cordelia, Alexander, Willow, Tara, and myself had legitimate forms of identification. Anya determined her identity from the key to the register around her neck, and Spike didn't want to be called Rupert. That's how we assumed that Angel was Rupert Giles. Dawn has a necklace, and she in turn named Buffy and Spike. That about covers the progress we had made when you arrived."

"Other than a total loss of memory has anyone else felt anything unusual? Angel? Spike?"

"Only thing I'm feeling is the need to get these two lovely ladies between the sheets." Angel attempted to put his arms around Willow and Tara, but the two women slipped away from the embrace. They both shuddered, and they moved as far away from the smarmy man as they could.

"Must you, Angel. Besides I'm sure Willow and Tara don't need a male influence in their relationship, especially one like yours," Giles commented. He turned to the blond man. "How about yourself, Spike, anything out of the ordinary?"

Spike looked down at Buffy who smiled and nodded at him. He looked up at the older British man, and he replied, "Well, two things really. I've noticed my senses are quite extraordinary, and that Buffy and I can communicate without speaking."

Across the room Tara and Willow were digesting the news that they were in a relationship. They touched hands, and they were surprised at the spark of recognition between them. Tara and Willow sat down at the table, and they scooted as close together as they could, happy to find someone for themselves.

Angel inched closer to Cordelia, determined to find himself a companion, but she rebuffed him with a lifting of her aristocratic nose. He pouted while he thought about what might be wrong with him. Maybe it's my hair. Angel drifted over towards the mirror at the front of the store, but when he looked in it he couldn't see himself. He shrieked while he pointed at the mirror. "Something's wrong! Something's wrong! I can't see myself. I can't see myself. The mirror is broken."

"I'm sure the mirror's not broken, you nincompoop," Spike drawled. He moved to look in the mirror, too. "Look, see there's the others. It's not the mirror. Just you."

"If it's just me, then where the fuck are you, Spike?" Angel asked. He nodded to the place in the mirror where Spike was supposed to be standing.

"Well obviously I'm such a good looking bloke the mirror is jealous." Spike looked the other man up and down with obvious contempt. "In your case it's probably trying to save itself from breaking."

"You guys are weird," Dawn announced, "It's obvious you're both vampires." She flounced over to the table where she flopped down in one of the chairs.

"Vampires are just a myth," Wesley declared. "This is a magic shop. I'm sure it's just a trick of some kind." He laughed wryly. "You know, ha-ha let's have a bit of fun with those that are memory-impaired."

"I'm afraid Dawn is quite right, Wesley," Giles revealed. "Both Angel and Spike are vampires. Their circumstances are unique, and that is why they are with both of our groups."

"What circumstances are those, and who the hell are these groups exactly?" Xander exclaimed. He smiled down at the woman who was still clutching his hand as if she was afraid if she let go something bad would happen. Then Xander glanced at Angel and Spike as if he was gauging how soon they would be attacking anyone.

Now that Spike had moved away from Buffy, Angel decided it was time to try and make a move on the blond woman. He didn't really care that she had showed a marked interest in the blond vampire. Angel knew that all she really needed was to feel the full blast of his charm, and she would fall into his arms. He swaggered awkwardly across the room while he plastered his best seductive grin on his face. "Hey baby."

Buffy wrinkled up her nose, and let out a long 'ewwwwwwww' before hurrying to Spike's side. She pressed herself against the blond vampire while she threw disgusted looks at the other vampire. Angel made her feel icky, and why the hell did his hair look like that?

What the hell is wrong with me? Angel thought. His eyes landed on Wesley. Hmm, maybe the problem is I don't like girls. Before he could act on his thought he was intercepted by Giles.

"Angel, would you please go sit down before you embarrass yourself any more than you already have." Giles indicated a chair next to the front door, far away from the others in the room.

"I have a feeling this memory loss is the result of a localized spell." Giles crossed the room to the bookshelf where he took a book down. He flipped through the pages until he found the spell he wanted. "Willow, can you get me the Tagas root? It should be on the shelf at the front of the shop."

Willow jumped to her feet to help Giles, but in her rush she tripped over the chair leg. She fell to her hands and knees. In the commotion of Giles and Wesley helping her up, she failed to notice the crystal that fell out of her pocket. It rolled across the floor to stop next to Anya's foot. Willow walked carefully to the front of the store.

"Are any of you going to pay for this?" Anya asked. "I'm not sure how we make money if we are always doing spells around this place." She moved to one side when Willow brushed by her while the redhead gathered ingredients at Giles' instructions. "Ugh, I stepped on something crunchy!"

Spike stared into Buffy's eyes as they returned to themselves with full memories. Both of them realized that whatever had happened this time the claim hadn't been covered. It was too strong now. As one, they looked around the room to see horror and shock cross all of the faces except one; Willow. The only expression she had on her face was one of irritation.