As her gaze skimmed the crowd, it slid past a too-familiar face and Dawn squinted slightly, trying to place him. It felt different. He felt different.
The guy from the coffee shop. Jack? Her memories of him, the knowledge, was fuzzy. She raised her chin to him slightly in greeting, but kept moving slowly over the floor. She glimpsed Mel's technicolor hair, and Spike's acid-blonde head in a dim corner with a dark-haired woman. She looked familiar too, and Dawn barely reacted when a faceless man swept her into a dance, letting him lead while she tried to place the woman's face.