Here's rosemary, that's for remembrance.
-Shakespeare; Hamlet, Ophelia's Mad Scene

The invitation didn't come in the mail; there was no postmark. Actually, there was no address. Just the word "Angel" in red, in beautiful calligraphy. The red was not the red of blood but rather the ubiquitous red of valentines. And, yes, Valentine's Day was close. All of the stores were decorated with hearts and pushing cards, chocolates, flowers, jewelry, even boxer shorts with hearts and cutesy sayings. Inside the heavy paper envelope, a little larger than a regular party invitation but smaller than a wedding invitation, was an engraved card.

               St. Valentine's Day Celebration

                12:01 am, February 14

                 Black tie

That's short and to the point, Angel thought. It doesn't say where, however, or who sent it. This is insane. He got up, dressed, went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Then, invitation in hand, he went out to the front office where Cordelia was munching on a doughnut and sparring verbally with Wesley again.

 "Cordy, this was on my bedside table. Did you put it there?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Nope, not me. Never seen it before. You, Wes?"

Wesley shook his head and then, having looked closely at the invitation, shook it again. "Angel, there's no address on this. Where is this celebration to be?"

Shrugging, Angel replied, "Haven't the foggiest. Well, I don't have a tuxedo and I'm not planning on going anywhere tonight unless our resident seer has a vision." Cordelia shook her head.

Although it was Friday, the 13^th, the day passed quietly and uneventfully. Gunn dropped by and ended up playing gin rummy with Cordelia while Wesley beat Angel at chess. The phone rang twice. One was a wrong number, the other a reminder for Cordelia of a dental appointment Monday. One by one, the associates of Angel Investigations left. Angel sat back in his chair, expecting to receive a phone call or telegram or something explaining the strange invitation. Slowly he dozed off...

...And woke up in a tuxedo, a red rosebud in his lapel, in the karaoke bar. The place looked different, though. All of the tables were set for two, with a crystal vase with a single rose on each. Long white Irish linen cloths covered each table, the crystal was Waterford, the china Lenox, and the silverware Reed & Barton. An orchestra filled the stage. The host, also clad in a tux, came to greet Angel. "You're quite prompt," the demon said, "but then you had the shortest distance to come." He led Angel to a table where the vase contained a red rose which matched the one in his lapel. Angel sat, looking toward the doorway. Suddenly a rather confused looking Rupert Giles entered, wearing a white rose on the lapel of his dinner jacket. As he was escorted to a table which bore a white rose, he stopped briefly to greet Angel. "Where are we, Angel? What sort of place is this?"

"Last time I was here, it was a karaoke bar. Tonight it looks completely different. This is where I've been coming for guidance since the Oracles were murdered. I sing here in exchange for advice."

"You? Sing?!" Giles broke out into a loud guffaw as the demon led him away.

Next to enter the room was a young man Angel didn't recognize. His rose, like Angel's was red, as was the rose at his table. He was handsome, dark-haired and dark-eyed, in his early 30's. He looked totally confused but seemed to be analyzing the situation as if it was always his nature to question and...the word "pretend" suddenly came into Angel's mind.

Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice said in Wonderland. Lindsey MacDonald walked in, a white rose in his lapel, accompanied by a blond man about 2 or 3 years older, also wearing a white rose. They were obviously friends. Lindsey still wore his Claddagh wedding ring, and the other man also wore a wedding ring. Seeing Angel, Lindsey came over and, to his surprise, shook his hand. After Angel got over his initial shock, he realized that the hand he was shaking was not a prosthesis but a real hand, flesh over bone, with a Hastings Law School ring on the third finger. Even more shocking, he was absolutely happy to see Lindsey, although he didn't know why. Lindsey introduced his friend as Ed Brenner, whom he had met in Baltimore. Baltimore? What was Lindsey doing in Baltimore, Angel wondered.

"Do you know what this is all about, Angel? Did you get a strange invitation just slipped under your door?"

"No, mine was on my bedside table, but it was strange. What's going on?"

Two more people arrived. Even curiouser than before. Oz (unbelievably in a tux) came in with Spike close behind, also formally dressed. Oz's rose was red, Spike's was yellow. Both of them greeted Angel warmly. Although Angel was delighted to see his friend the werewolf, he was not unhappy to see Spike. What was with this place?

The demon took the stage and, microphone in hand, looked at his audience. "Welcome to our celebration. Now that all of the men are here, the ladies should be arriving any minute. Remember that this is not just Valentine's Day, it is Saint Valentine's Day. And, on a saint's day, miracles may happen." The orchestra began to play a tune that Lindsey recognized as "Out of My Dreams and Into My Arms," from Oklahoma. And then suddenly the first woman walked into the room. In a beautiful sapphire blue dress, her blonde hair shining, her eyes bright with tears, Rosemary MacDonald walked over to the table where her husband sat. Rising, his eyes also filling with tears, he took her in his arms and held her tightly.

Another woman, younger, with long red hair followed her in and ran to Lindsey's friend Ed, who ran to join her. "Caroline! Oh, my God, Caroline!" He just held her as if he couldn't believe that she was there.

Suddenly Angel thought he understood the meaning of the roses. Lindsey's Rosemary had been dead several years; evidently Ed was a widower, too. White roses must represent a dead lover. Then red must be for the living. Could it be?

Dressed in a beautiful gown of deep rose pink, Jenny Calendar had joined Giles. They, too, were kissing with tears running down their cheeks.

But if red were for the living and white for the dead, then what did yellow mean? It just took a second for Angel to figure that out, as Drusilla came in and went directly to Spike, who couldn't believe his eyes. She looked different; she looked sane, the way she had been before Angelus had destroyed her.

Looking around the room, Angel saw that there were only three tables at which a man sat alone: his, Oz's, and the dark-haired stranger's.   All bore red roses. Then he saw two familiar faces. Willow entered, her red hair long and flowing down her shoulders, dressed in green to match her eyes. She and Oz were in each other's arms. Then Parker entered and joined the stranger, who could only be her Jarod, the man she loved but could never have. But tonight, evidently, they could be together.

The demon came by Angel's table and whispered, "I've saved the best for last, Angel, but she's here now." Angel looked up into Buffy's beautiful eyes. Not a word was spoken; there didn't need to be. Buffy was here and, for tonight at least, they were together.

Although the dinner was delicious, very little of it was eaten by any of the guests. When Willow and Oz came by Angel's table to say, "Hey," Angel asked if it was her doing. She shook her head and told him that she had just received an invitation too.

The orchestra was fabulous, and most of the couples danced, at least a little. For the most part, however, they just sat, talking and looking into each other's eyes while they held hands as if they never wanted to let go. Angel danced with Buffy, her soft cheek against his shoulder. "I love you, Buffy. I'll always love you."

"And you know I'll always love you." As he took her hand to kiss it, he saw that she was wearing the Claddagh ring he had given her.

Soon, much too soon, the emcee took the stage again. He announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sorry to tell you that the next dance will be the last. First of all, however, let me introduce Caroline Brenner, who has a song for us." The beautiful redhead took the stage, and, looking directly at the husband she loved, began to sing a beautiful, inspirational song, "You'll Never Walk Alone" from Carousel in a clear true soprano. Tears flowed from every eye in the room, and hands were clasped tightly. As she finished, a round of thunderous applause greeted her. Then, as the orchestra played, "Goodnight, Sweetheart," every couple took the floor. The melody was shorter than anyone wanted to be. As Buffy and Angel shared a kiss, like all the other couples, the lights slowly dimmed and went out.

Buffy woke up on the sofa in her living room. Willow was starting to stir in the recliner, the bowl of popcorn still in her lap, where it had been when they dozed off in the middle of their movie marathon. "Willow, were you...?"

"In a ballroom with Oz, and you & Angel, and Giles & Jenny, and Rosemary & Lindsey MacDonald, and Spike & Drusilla (she shook her head disbelievingly) and some couples I didn't recognize? Of course not. It had to be a dream!" Then she looked down at the table and saw two red roses lying there that hadn't been there before. Picking hers up, she held it to her cheek and smiled wistfully.

Father Ed Brenner's phone rang. It was his friend Lindsey. "Ed, were we really there? Could it have been?"

Looking at the white rosebud on his dresser, Ed said, "I can't explain it but yes, you were with Rosemary & I was with Caroline, even if only for a few hours." He picked up the rosebud.

Lindsey looked down at his arm. The prosthesis was still there, but last night, he knew, he had had his hand, and his ring, again. "Were you really there, Rosemary? Did it happen?" The soft hand brushed his cheek, and he heard her voice in his head. Of course, and I'm still with you, just as I promised, Imzadi.

The ringing of her cell phone awakened Parker, but instead of her usual growled, "What?" she softly whispered, "Hello?"

"Parker, was last night real? Were we together? Was there some kind of strange demon emcee and some real vampires? How did we get there? Was it a dream?"

"For once, Jarod, stop analyzing and take something on faith. But I have the rose that was on our table, and I'll bet you have the one from your lapel." Indeed the rosebud was lying on his bedside table. He picked it up and smelled the mingled odor of the rose and Parker's perfume.

"I love you, Parker." Jarod hung up the phone before he could hear her answer.

"I love you, too. I always will."

Although Cordelia and Wesley asked him if anything had happened that night, he denied having gone anywhere. This was just too personal and private to share, even with his two best friends. Later on he went over to the karaoke bar. "I wanted to thank you for last night. It was one of the best evenings I've ever had in my life."

"Don't thank me," came the gruff reply. "You all didn't even eat the food, and it was really great! But the celebration wasn't my idea."

"Whose was it then, if not yours?"

"A young woman wanted to give her husband a very special evening, and she realized that there were other couples separated by circumstances beyond their control who might also appreciate a chance to step out of their dreams and into the arms of their special someones. I just made the arrangements."

"But who?" Angel asked. Then he saw a little plant sprig in the demon's hand. Rosemary, for remembrance.