Fantasyland
By Sweetprincipale
Willow and Tara are just trying to mend fences when they buy a half dozen cookies from the Sisters of Gaia Blessed Be Bakesale. Little do they know that one wicca among them has actually done some reading and her "Cookies of Your Dreams" might actually make your dreams come true. Set in Season Four, with some events tweaked, nudged, or slightly out of order. (Because this is going to be more fun.)
Allison shut her cookbook and her spellbook. She was worried that heat might do something to the aphrodisiac nature of the ingredients or the magical properties. She cast the spell repeatedly when she was mixing, then while she was scooping them onto the trays, and just for good luck, one more time while they were in the oven.
Okay, and while she was icing them with vanilla buttercream and dotting them with sprinkles and sanding sugar. A few more times while wrapping them into bags of six and marking them with a $3.00 price tag.
It was her first time contributing anything to a wiccan bakesale and she was sure the other girls were really going to have treats that wowed the customers.
The Cookies of Your Dreams! She lettered a sign in pretty, swirly purple letters and wrote underneath, "All proceeds go to the Sisters of Gaia Fall Fundraiser."
"Hi, Tara!" Kelsey waved from behind a heavily-laden table. "Oh. And Willow, right?" Her warm tone turned icy.
Willow and Tara stopped in front of the table, both flushed. "Hi! L-Looks great!" Tara stammered. She had stopped going to the Sisters of Gaia meetings this semester, pretty much after the second meeting. Well, pretty much after meeting Willow, a true witch. Like her. Even though they were just friends, her heart fluttered when she looked at the redhead beside her.
"Well, we sure could have used you this year. But, it looks like we managed." Kelsey's smile was fixed.
"The cookies of my dreams? Those look good." Willow liked the purple and pink sprinkles on them, nestled in shining sugar. "They totally make me think of rainbows and unicorns. I'll take a bag."
Kelsey's smile thawed. "Thanks! That'll be three dollars. Tara, do you want to get something?"
"Mm, those brownies. Did Ariana make those? Willow, you'll love these, they are super fudgy."
"Two dollars."
"I feel so bad. We only have one brownie left. We totally pigged out!" Tara exclaimed. Walking with Willow was fun. It was easy to keep talking and laughing and watching the way Willow deftly licked crumbs off of her lips. The pair kept nibbling away as they easily linked elbows, giggling and whispering.
It was way too easy to keep eating and also easy to forget that they were heading for a research-problem-solving session at Mr. Giles' place. They had to do something about this new threat, Adam.
"Will Riley be there?"
"No. I don't think he and Buffy are actually on speaking terms right now after the Great Silence. Ironic, huh?"
"No?" Tara bit her lip. "What happened?"
"Riley called Buffy a vigilante. Buffy called him part of a dangerous operation that plays with murderous demons and then releases them onto the streets. And then… Adam. So, he's sulking. 'Cause yeah, totally released a murderous demon onto the streets. With no head hardware, like Spike."
"Spike is the pale guy?"
"Vampire."
"I can't get used to that. He looks so normal. I mean, he's pale, but I'm pale."
"You are not pale! You're perfect, your skin is like a— like a delicate lily!" Willow burst out before her brain could remind her that one did not go around blurting out floral comparisons about one's new friend. One's very close, almost instantly best friend. But still, no flowery compliments, otherwise one's new friend might abruptly not be a friend anymore.
"R-really? Thank you," Tara blushed and hung her head bashfully. She couldn't think of anything to say to Willow that wouldn't come off weird or wrong. All she could do was walk along happily in silence, picturing Willow running toward her through a field of lilies.
Willow's shoulder brushed into hers, warming her skin through the thin, India-cotton blouse she wore. Skin to skin. Like when they were painting henna on each other's bare backs. Tara swallowed. Willow had a boyfriend. Well, they'd broken up, but Willow had a boyfriend. Willow was not looking for love with anyone right now, let alone a woman.
She wondered if it was okay to have naughty thoughts about one's new best friend? Maybe, as long as they stayed secret.
"Your secret meetings aren't going to stay secret if you leave the bally door open," Spike sauntered into the Watcher's flat, where he'd so recently been held captive. If it weren't for the fact that he was neutered by those soldier boys and their idiotic lab rats, he'd have torn out all of their throats for that humiliation. Especially the humiliation of being engaged to the Slayer. Proposing to her! On his knees! Having her sit on his lap and inhaling the sweet natural perfume of her hair and her skin and remembering the look in her eyes as her lips found his…
Harris shoved past the vampire and erased the troubling memories. "If you don't like it, leave. Please. I'm not above helping you on your way. Want to exit through the door or the window?"
"The door, thank you!" Giles scrambled down the steps, hoping to prevent any further repair-related expenses. He'd only just replaced the bannister and the phone after the Fyarl incident.
Anya smiled at Spike cautiously as she sat on the sofa. "Isn't Spike kind of essential? He's the only one who gets to hear the good demon gossip. At least now since Giles is human again."
"Are there a lot of good demons in Sunnydale?" Tara whispered softly.
"I think Anya meant juicy demon gossip. As in, the gossip is juicy. Not the demons."
"I dunno." Spike eyed the newest member of the pack speculatively and decided she'd be fun to tease a bit. "There are some pretty liquid-types around here. Spurt for a hundred yards when you finish 'em off."
"You k-kill demons now?" Tara asked, tucking her hair self-consciously behind her ear.
"Gotta kill something. Get crabby if I don't." He gave the girls huddled together his most feral smile.
The impact was ruined when the Slayer arrived with a whirl of short skirts and high ponytail. She sashayed between him and his imaginary prey with a flounce, snuggling up next to Willow, fixing him with a bored look. "Everything makes you crabby. It's hard being evil and useless."
"I'm not useless!" Spike snarled.
"We don't need him, Giles."
"I'll just go then, won't tell you about the Trojan Horse Adam's got planned. Be on my merry way, shall I?" Spike stormed back to the door, grabbing his duster from the back of a wooden chair in passing, stomping and showy for a reason.
"Spike! Wait." Giles cleared his throat pointedly.
Works every time, Spike thought to himself, hand on the door.
"Buffy, be civil. Spike's intelligence—" Giles was cut off by a rather rude laugh from his Slayer. He had to smother a smile himself. "Spike's information is useful and could prevent countless deaths."
"Plus, pizza." Anya gestured to the box Xander had placed on the coffee table.
"Pepperoni?" Spike allowed himself to be lured.
"With extra cheese."
Spike was mollified by the fact that everyone let him talk and seemed to actually take him seriously. He liked that. Missed having minions— at least the ones who had a few brain cells left.
"But… you escaped. How do you know what happens to the others? What if once they chip them, they send them off to other facilities or they make their own mutant army?" Xander asked when Spike had finished outlining Adam's plan to launch an inside attack by stuffing the Initiative cells with demons and vamps who'd allowed themselves to be caught.
"He must have surveillance."
"Where the heck would he surveil from?"
"Oh, Sunnydale is lousy with hiding places. You've got your warehouses, your abandoned buildings, your tunnels, the high school…" Spike ticked off potential locations on his fingers.
"The high school?" Tara yelped.
"Not the one the kids go to now," Willow hastily reassured. "The one that exploded last year. We did that." She looked at Tara proudly.
Tara's stare didn't reflect pride, more like shock and worry.
Buffy, sensing things were about to take a nosedive with Willow's witchy pal, (which would also make things uber awkward for keeping her life as a Slayer a semi-secret) quickly waved her hand, brushing the worry away. "Oh! Not like you're thinking. We weren't, like, juvenile delinquents or anything. I mean, I did set my other high school on fire, but that was vampire-related. This was demon-related. Biiiig demon."
"The ex-mayor. He was going to go into mega demon form and eat the graduating class. But Buffy's right. We were normal kids. Aside from 'the killing demons and saving people' thing," Willow chimed in hastily. "I was in the computer club. Um. Until vampires massacred them."
"I was on the swim team. Until the coach started turning us into amphibious swamp monsters." Xander coughed uneasily. "But Buffy! Buffy was like totally your picture perfect teenager."
Tara eyed the petite blonde skeptically as she whittled a stake and sipped a diet coke. "You w-were?"
"I was! I was runner up for homecoming queen! I was on the cheerleading squad—for a while." She decided not to mention the evil witch possessions and voodoo doll thing.
It was Spike's turn to enjoy some derisive laughter. "Well, that explains a lot."
"Explains a lot of what?" Buffy's tone was harsh. So what if it seemed silly now, in a world where it was all about death and lack of sleep and upsetting your mother and never, ever getting to enjoy anything beyond a first date with a normal guy? Once upon a time, she'd rocked being pretty and popular. Some days, especially days like today, when she felt like she was a real bitch and she knew it, she wished it could all go back to handsome football players fighting over a turn to dance with you, instead of a handsome soldier with a taser in his pocket telling you that your first kiss was your last because you were reckless.
She felt recklessly angry. Hurt. Willing to do some hurting.
"Explains why you lived so long and took down so many. Not your skills, that's for sure," Spike lied nonchalantly. Her moves were amazing. He loved Slayers with a morbid fascination, the same way some people collect deadly weapons. He studied dozens, had a few choice favorites, but Summers… Summers was the best ever made, the once and future queen. If he had a bit of a Slayer "fetish", it wouldn't surprise him, but until Buffy, he'd never spent time imagining the other sorts of powers and moves Slayers might possess. Now she'd mentioned the cheerleading thing and his shields were up. And his cock was up. Not that he'd ever fancied cheerleaders before, just… Summers flexing and bending and jumping— without trying to murder him.
"My skills would make you dusty in seconds, Spike," she snapped, frost in her tone.
"Yeah, now. I'm helpless, Slayer. But before? It's that element of surprise. Here comes the little bimbo, shakin' her pompoms. Real terrifying."
"Buffy's plenty terrifying!" Xander hotly defended one of his friends. "I mean… Yeah! She is! But cute, too!"
"Cute?" Anya demanded.
"Not cute like you! You're sexy! Gorgeous! Buff is just kinda- y'know. Cute and little? Like a bunny?"
"Ahh! How could you say such a thing?" Anya pushed herself from her seat and fled down the hall.
"What'd I say? Anya?" Xander looked around helplessly, then shrugged and followed her.
"Fluffy little rabbit are you, Slayer?" Bloody hell, now he was thinking of those damn Playboy bunnies with the stupid ears and the stupid tuft of cotton on their bums. Not his thing, not at all. Nor cheerleaders. Nor Slayers.
Why was he feeling so… needy?
"That's enough!" Giles ended the barb-trading. "I'll thank you not to mock Buffy's abilities. Many Slayers take on a tough, no-nonsense persona, but Buffy has remained true to herself and she's one of the dearest, warmest, kindest, and most lethal Slayers ever to exist. It is only through her mercy that you've survived this long!" He concluded with his arms crossed, foolishly thinking that was the end of the matter.
"Only through my mercy that any of you are here!" Spike shrugged back, irritated. He didn't like this "playing nice with others" nonsense. He was better at orders or one-on-one activities. His mind jumped to the Slayer and him, a brawl that turned to a steamy kiss, hurried hands pawing and peeling down clothes.
"Mercy? Mercy?" Buffy screeched. "You kidnapped Willow and Xander! You beat me up with that stupid Gem of Amara. You—"
"Helped save your Watcher—twice now, Slayer, not to mention saving the world when your last honey got all frisky and soulless. Mind you, I'm a much more amiable sort of frisky and soulless." Fuck, he was starting to sound flirty!
Buffy gave him a disgusted look. "Eww."
Irritation growing, he hurriedly pushed on, "And I'm saving your lot now. Without a man on the inside, you'd never know what Adam was planning. No one in their right minds would spill to an ex-cheerleader, but they know my reputation. Bein' chipped hasn't stopped me from bein' the Big Bad in this berg, Sweetheart."
Buffy was slightly off of her retort game. Phrases like last honey, man on the inside, and frisky and soulless were causing a traffic jam in her brain.
Last honey. What if Angel was really my last honey? My last, as in ever?
Man on the inside.
God, I need a man. On the inside. I know it's dirty and sounds like a bad joke from the back of those gross magazines, but I thought Riley and I might… Well, we didn't. And I'm lonely. Horny. Angry.
Soulless and frisky? Why is Spike so… annoying, yet kinda-sorta helpful without a soul? Even before the chip, he seemed… not completely evil and insane? Not Angelus material, anyway.
Oh God, if that's how low my criteria for attraction has sunk, I—
"Still a touch of the old rah-rah in her, Watcher?" Spike jabbed as Buffy stared vacantly at him. He wasn't sure what was happening. The Slayer was radiating anger. He was sure he was about to get the tongue-lashing—That sounds okay—No, the dressing down—Even better! STOP, bloody hell, please, stop. But the words didn't materialize and she just stared into space. With her short skirt and her perky bosom heaving, her blonde hair swishing, she probably looked like every man's fantasy in uniform…. He was starting to mentally put pleats in the skirt and add pom poms.
Where were those helpful little tranquilizer darts when he needed one?
Buffy finally snapped out of it, shaking her head to clear the annoying and confusing thoughts away. "Before you go on about how merciful you are, I seem to remember you showing up here, begging for help, not to mention you begging me to help you get your last honey back about a dozen times and yet… here you are. Honey-less. Also, cheerleading is a sport now. What did they do back in your days? Olympic handkerchief folding? Wig powdering? Ooh, I know, team cave painting!"
"I'm not that old!"
"Should we go?" Tara hissed. "It's awkward enough when you have to work with your ex, but—"
"Buffy's ex is a different vampire. I mean, they were engaged for a night. Long story. I'll explain more later." Willow leaned near and whispered in return.
With their sensitive hearing, both Spike and Buffy had caught the whispered conversation. It threw them off of their vitriolic exchange. In the stunned silence, they could hear Xander's voice pleading—
"But most people think bunnies are cute!"
"So I'm a freak because I know them for their truly evil form?" Anya screeched.
"No! I think you're wonderful! Not a freak! And if you were, that'd be fine! I mean, I hang out with freaks all the time! Look at Buffy!"
Spike guffawed.
Buffy elbowed him in the guts.
He snarled.
She snickered.
Willow applied diversionary tactics. "Dessert? We bought dessert! Who wants a cookie?"
Willow's diversion worked.
Partially.
"Spike!" she chided as he grabbed the last of the half-dozen cookies out from under Giles' hand with his freakishly fast reflexes.
"What? You asked 'who wants a cookie?' Or were vampires providing life-saving information not included in the nummy treats, Red?" Spike stuffed the cookie in his mouth.
Willow and Buffy exchanged a look. They were too well reminded of the last time Spike had been stuffing his mouth with cookies. Well, he hadn't done the stuffing, but the association between cookies and Spike was firmly linked in their minds.
Tara quickly pushed the last remaining decadent brownie into Giles' hand. "This is better," she whispered, daring to wink.
"I must say I agree. I prefer chocolate to all those horrible, artificially-colored things," he admitted. He took a bite and practically moaned.
"You didn't tell me there were brownies!" Buffy cried.
To her horror, Spike had said the same thing. At the same time.
"I like chocolate, Slayer. I'm evil."
"I like chocolate, too."
"Chocolate is universal, okay?" Willow was getting a headache. The cookies had a very floral taste, almost like eating sugar while smelling perfume. Sweet and cloying and maybe they made you feel a little sleepy? Or was that her brain retreating to pleasant places where she and Tara hadn't just witnessed several oddly embarrassing scenes?
Giles used the lull to speak to the reassembled group,temporarily quiet while finishing their sweets. "I think Spike raised a good point. Adam must possess a way to ensure that the numbers inside the Initiative remain high. If they were killing off captured demons, or sending them to other bases, he'd want to know or his plan would be thrown off. Therefore, I recommend that we search each area Spike mentioned." Giles watched in surprise as Anya, Xander, Willow,Tara, and Buffy all yawned as one. Spike seemed to flex his jaws, and then he shuddered and stretched, unable to suppress the urge any longer. "But perhaps tomorrow. I think all of us have had a rather long week and we need some rest. We can meet here tomorrow evening. Spike—if you can be useful and less provocative, you may come along."
"Oh, goody goody, can I really?" he sneered. He gave the Slayer, who for some reason was still near him, a mocking pout. "Can I come if I'm not 'provocative'?"
Buffy watched the way his tongue seemed to curl up behind his teeth, making his cheek bones longer, his chin jut, even making the blue of his eyes seem darker and deeper.
Why is that hot?
"Are you sure you won't be too busy weeping into one of Drusilla's old dresses or something?" Buffy asked.
She knew it was a low blow.
She also didn't care.
"OUT! Now!" Giles felt a headache coming on. He ushered his "children" out, reminding them they would need to reconvene tomorrow night.
Buffy expected Willow to head home with her. They shared a dorm room, after all. But, almost without seeming aware of her existence, the two wiccas set off with nothing more than a wave, elbows linked, heads together, muttering and murmuring about scrying and spells of revelation.
Xander and Anya were still hissing and huffing about something or other. Probably about how bunnies were the spawn of Satan.
Anya might actually know, Buffy mused, watching her other best friend and his girlfriend leave in his battered pick up.
"At least I kept her in dresses. Silks, lace, satins, diamonds… anything she desired. I knew how to treat my lady. Like a gem. A jewel. Nothing she wanted that I didn't at least try to get her. It's not my fault she left me, Slayer."
Spike. Of course, the one who should be long gone remained like a bad home hair-coloring experiment.
"Go home."
"I'm walking that way. You go home!"
"My dorm is this way, idiot!"
Spike felt whining warring with anger. She'd touched a nerve, that bit about crying into Dru's dresses. How many days and nights had he whiled away, sobbing over some treasure of hers, some scrap of hers?
Like him. Some scrap of hers.
"It was you, you know."
"It was me, what?"
"Your fault she left."
"I wasn't even there!"
"You brought back her Daddy Dearest, he started his old tricks and Bob's your uncle, she was…" He stopped. This lie had been told so many times that even he was sick of it.
It was true, Buffy realized, sick herself, for a different reason. She brought Angelus back. Angelus loved to torment Drusilla and Spike. He loved to… do things with Drusilla, that he could never do with her.
Because of her. That phrase slotted neatly into so many painful phrases.
"I didn't know," she said hoarsely, walking faster.
Spike caught up easily. "Know what? That he was shagging her, right in front of me, stuck in that damn chair?"
"The chair that I put you in? Yeah, I figured that out, Spike. I didn't know when I slept with him I'd bring back Drusilla's favorite 'bedtime snack', okay?"
Spike heard the misery. Which she deserved.
God, he hated himself sometimes. He'd hate himself for this in a minute. "She hated me for siding with you. Against Angelus. I broke the code of the clan, whatever you want to call it, effed up sire loyalty."
"Wasn't she trying to kill him a few days before?"
"Go figure, right?"
"Spike… far be it from me to give love life advice, because mine sucks, but you're better off without her. A girl that dumps you for saving her life isn't much of a girlfriend, okay?" Buffy stomped off, sure that this last piece of unwanted advice, delivered with such finality, would send Spike snarling away. Or he'd attack her, then she could kill him, and that would be that.
But, because it was Spike, he did neither. He nodded, hands stuffed moodily in his duster pockets, shoulders slouching forward. "Not to mention the hundred plus years of lookin' after her. I mean, the couple of weeks I was stuck in that chair against the half dozen decades I took care of her on my own? You've no idea the larks she'd get up to, the near misses we've had…"
Oh God. She'd made him chatty. And his voice was… not unpleasant, just now. "Plus the silks, satins, jewels, and stuff."
"Don't forget places to live. Flats in Paris and New York, villas in Brazil, the best views, the prettiest meals…"
"Well, you had me sympathizing up until the meals part. And also, thinking about how you probably got all that stuff." She shuddered. Murder. Evil.
Why did it sound so nice? Not the death and blood part, but the being pampered, being shown the world, treated like a queen?
Buffy missed the pretty, popular teenage California girl version of that scenario. It came with shopping sprees and fast cars, new dresses, parties, and Daddy's credit card.
A handsome guy to lead on, never to love.
She wanted it all, the love, the jewels, the dresses, the mansions… At least for an afternoon. A fantasy. Yeah. Harmless daydream.
That was only fair, really beyond fair. One or two days of fantasy after four years of nightmares and heartbreak?
"This is my stop, Slayer."
They'd been walking quickly, covering more ground than she realized. She'd gone past the place she needed to turn to head toward campus. "Oh. Good night."
"Meet me tomorrow? We'll take the hot spot, the one most likely to get your little mates killed, yeah?"
Surprised at his offer, Buffy agreed automatically. "Yeah. Um. Which place do you think that would be?"
"Probably somewhere close to the Initiative base. Caves, you reckon?"
"Okay. Meet you here at sunset?"
"Might want to come a bit before, figure out a plan in case he's there," Spike said easily. What are you doing, you idiot? You'll have to put up with her for longer that way!
"Sure. sounds good." Take out the "evil, soulless creep" part, which is a friggin' huge part, and so much of Spike sounds good. Her brain was showcasing hazy, warm, scenery, jewels and dresses, complete with a sexy blonde vampire with a flexible tongue. With her mental faculties occupied elsewhere, she bit her lip and her mouth trotted out, "I'm sorry about what I said. If you cried over Drusilla, that's a decent thing. I mean, missing someone you loved and took care of, that's… really human of you."
He smiled slowly, surprised and pleased. "Well, I'm half human, you know."
"I guess." Angelus sure as hell wasn't. Most vamps weren't. They were demons in people suits. Spike was… half-demon, half-human. Did that make him kind of like Anya, who had been big on the murdering and torturing unfaithful guys? She was the same individual, she'd done those things, had those memories, but she'd reverted from a demon body back to a human form. Now she chose not to harm anyone. Spike had a demon that wasn't "active" right now. He couldn't harm anyone. What did that make him?
"My head feels funny." Buffy suddenly rubbed her forehead.
Wow, Brain. You're never going to let Mouth run this show again, capice?
"Get some sleep, Slayer. See you tomorrow."
"Yep. Before sunset. Good night, Spike." She grudgingly added, "Thanks for the help."
His own head felt a bit loose and dreamy. He nodded. "Sweet dreams, Cutie."
To be continued…
End note: Fear not! This is a completed four-shot and I'll be posting once a week unless life bites me. If you are a fan of spuffy-inspired romance and erotica, I hope you'll check out some original works by S.C. Principale.
