I wake up in my bed covered in sweat. The sheets cling to me and my mouth is dry. I look around my apartment with nervous eyes and I relax when I see it's all the same. My hands are shaking when I lift the sheets off.

It all seemed so real.

Too real.

I go into the kitchen and find a note from Anya on the kitchen table saying she went to the shop early to help Giles with inventory. She complains that she better get overtime pay for it. There's other stuff about all the crazy things she'll do to me tonight and I smile. My heart is still beating a couple hundred miles-an-hour, but I feel good.

I go to the phone and call both Willow and Buffy just needing to hear their friendly voices. They ask if I'm feeling okay and I tell them I'm fine. I'm better than fine. Never felt so great in my life. I was rambling yes, but it was good. It was me.

I remember falling asleep to a movie last night. I remember relating to it's main character so much. I remember wanting a Tyler Durden of my very own. I would seriously rethink that now. I shower and shave and I go to work.

It doesn't feel like the life is being sucked out of me with every breath. My boss doesn't treat me like an errand boy. The guys on crew don't look at me like a leper.

It's great.

It's better than great. This is my life, and I'm living it exactly the way I want to.

There's just one little thing bothering me as I pound concrete with the jackhammer. Something that won't get out of my head.

Was Tyler my bad dream?

Or was I Tyler's?