No little surprises.
Buffy also realised her sleeping patters had been so incredibly wrecked over the years that more often than not she found herself face down on a pillow during the middle of the day, or just running on very little sleep.
She continued to push the broom across the floor, her own music now blasting through the speakers instead of something the DJ had cooked up. The doors had been left opened, but she figured the lack of crowd and lack of anything going on would tip people off to it not being open. She just liked the island breeze coming through the doors and making the place smell like the ocean.
Buffy spun around with the broom, half-dancing, half-fighting before the bristles touched back down and she continued to clean up.