Foo Foo had a lot comfortable somewheres to choose from, given the fact there were plenty of cushions and throw blankets scattered around the living room. The house had taken on an odd sort of existence in the wake of so many losses and so few gains. The nineties crooning graced a space which was -- beyond a few haphazard decorative touches -- exceptionally tidy. At first glance, one might expect the Slayer to be the orchestrator of so much neatness. In reality, it was Sparrow who ran the tight ship. In this one area of her life, Buffy was happier following.

"How is the alchemy coming?" She asked as they slipped past the living room, heading in the kitchen's direction.