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.)

Part IV

"Did you have a dream last night?" Anya's voice cut to the chase, but her body lacked its usual open posture, curling in on itself as she sat, her head to her knees.

"Yep. A couple of them. Well… I had one. I think I might've been in one, too. That doesn't make sense." Xander sat up and raked his hands through his hair, confusion and comfort poking at him in equal measure.

"I want it to be real." Anya sounded like she might cry.

The money? He almost said it.

He remembered in time. She doesn't care about things. She likes things, she deserves things, but the "thing" she wants most is love that won't go away. "Anya? Listen to me. I'm not your dream guy. I'm not the guy who makes perfect anniversary reservations. No way do I have that Great Gatsby penthouse."

Anya's eyes widened. "You were there. Really there!"

"Just hear me out. I'm not that dream guy, either of them. I'm going to screw up so much, but if you want me, if I'm… If I could be what you want, I want to be that guy. Sickness or health, blinds or curtains, renting or buying." Xander stopped with a nervous chuckle. This was terrifying. Dreams were one thing, but out here, Anya could actually get up and laugh in his face for real. "I might never be good enough for you."

"If you keep loving me and don't leave, that's what I want." Anya seized his hand in a fierce grip. "Oh, I want the other things, too. The house. Maybe a poodle. An engagement ring and muffins. But those things we can get together, you know. Except the ring. You should buy that yourself."

"You'd say yes? Even if I'm always a Joe Schmoe carpenter who can barely afford his own place?"

"I don't know who Mr. Schmoe is, but yes. Besides, once I'm employed, we'll probably double our income. And sex is free. Love is free, even if it feels like it costs a lot." She turned worried eyes to meet his. It was costing everything right now to lay it out here and trust that he wouldn't make a joke or run.

The man in the dream just wants to keep you by his side and make you happy.

Her fingers felt chilly against his larger, warmer hands. He rubbed her palm between his own. "Love is way expensive, Ahn. I always thought so. You know, besides Willow…" he coughed, "My parents aren't big on affection, saying it or giving it."

"My mother wasn't, either. I was a disappointment to her."

"I was definitely not the son they wanted. I'm not the guy I wanted to be, but you know what?"

"What?"

"We're gonna show 'em." Xander rose and pulled her with him until they were chest to chest beside the creaky couch.

"My mother's been dead for about eleven centuries, honey."

"Then we'll show everyone else! I love you, Anya. I don't have a ring, but I have a whole lifetime to get one, to get you everything you want. In the words of the old poet guys, 'Will you have me?'"

"Yes!" Anya flung her arms around his neck, which had the added bonus of toppling them back onto the bed, with him on top of her. "And if I have you, I have what I want."


Buffy woke up with a ball of loss pressing into her chest. Spike was gone. They'd fallen asleep in one another's arms and woken up alone.

Really alone? Where was Willow?"

As panic set in, Buffy jumped from her bed and sprang to her closet, only to do an abrupt about-face to grab the phone as it rang. "Hello?"

"I'm at Tara's. I walked her back after the Scooby meeting last night."

"Right. I remember that." Buffy rubbed a hand over her forehead. The line between reality and dreams was so blurry. If she concentrated, she could still feel Spike's cock buried inside her, feel his teeth on her skin, hot kisses, little bites, and Stop that. Best friend on the phone.

"You'd already crashed when I got back. But uh- I got up early and remembered I'd left my— sweater— at Tara's. I went back to get it. I figured you'd be getting up around now and might start to panic."

"You are scarily psychic, Wills," Buffy sighed in relief.

"No! Not psychic. At all. I'm not."

"I meant you were right. I was literally waking up and hitting the insta-panic when I realized you weren't here."

"No fear here. We're both okay. Did you… sleep okay?" Willow's tone had a curious note in it.

Buffy ignored it. "Just dandy," Buffy said in an extra chipper voice. "I'll see you later?"

"Or around campus. Bye, Buffy!" Willow hung up the phone and let her eyes travel back to the bed. "She said she slept fine."

Tara rolled over, gloriously naked, breasts bouncing, making Willow's mouth start to water and her recently explored pussy start to drip again. "Maybe she didn't want to tell you she had a dream. Maybe she didn't have one like this."

"She wouldn't tell me the details, that's for sure." Willow bit her lip as she rejoined Tara on the bed, squishing up against her. Tara smirked suddenly and slid away. Slid down.

"Ohhhh. Oh, my God." Willow's whole body jumped as Tara's tongue started dancing gently across her bead.

"I feel bad for her. She probably doesn't have anyone to dream about, now that she and Riley are pretty much over before they began."

"Mmhm." Willow closed her eyes. "It was probably just us. Because we're connected magically."

"Or because of our feelings for one another."

As Willow let her mind go clack in enjoyment, she had one more painful thought that managed to wriggle through the puzzle of lucid dreams and awakened sexuality.

Poor Buffy. No sweet dreams. No Riley. No Angel. Even if Angel came back, I don't think they could make it work. They might've been in love, but that was one love story that didn't have a happy ending.


Buffy returned to her dorm room from the shower, her body scrubbed, but her insides still having that slippery post-orgasm slickness that lingered.

Her mind was slippery, too. Thoughts that she tried to push away kept sliding in. She tried to force herself to think clearly, but flashes from the dreaming-world interrupted.

I didn't do those things. It wasn't real.

Naked bodies writhing, hands clutching.

Spike hates me.

Husky voice, speaking loving words.

I hate him. Would I hate him if he changed?

Dancing together. Legs wrapped around his waist. Short skirts. Long gowns. Brocade waistcoats or black leather boots and jeans…

It wasn't just a dream, it was a buffet of fantasies, all the wrong kind that felt perfectly right.

I promised I'd find him, too. If I don't, he'll be looking for me. Unless of course, he knows nothing about this because I'm utterly insane and because people DO NOT share dreamworlds, even really vivid ones. Ooh! I bet I just had a Slayer dream. Yeah.

His eyes locked onto hers and never released, whether it was while she was perched above him in a dark crypt or spread out under him on a lavish bed in some villa.

And Spike and I made love a dozen times because it symbolizes that… he's the inside man. He's my partner in defeating Adam and saving the world… which is the ultimate fantasy of Slayers.

Having someone who could spoil her and love her, who could get inside her head and her body, and take on the beasts and apocalypses?

Buffy's knees buckled as she slowly let herself sink to her bed. Her heart felt— broken in whole new ways. Utterly unlikely as he might seem, Spike, at least the Spike in her dream, ticked all the boxes.

But you can't have your dream come true, Slayer Gal. Don't waste one more tear for things you're not gonna get, Buffy scolded herself sternly, forcing her legs to work, her hands to retrieve clothes. It was still a few hours before her first class, but if she sat still any longer, she'd just start sobbing. Uber pathetic.

As she pulled on a long pale-peach shirt and debated over a skirt or jeans, she heard a shuffling sound stop outside her door. It moved away and returned, three times.

Her Slayer senses were starting to prickle in an unfamiliar way, not reading "danger" but still reading "supernatural." Thankful that her long shirt could actually count as a mini-dress in a pinch, Buffy slipped a stake into her palm, and pressed her ear to the door. The sound was gone. Silently, she turned the doorknob and opened the door a crack.

A figure with platinum blonde hair and a long black coat was striding away, head forward, shoulders hunched. "Spike?" she gasped softly.

Not softly enough to escape vampire hearing. "Slayer!" Spike's voice sounded warm and relieved as he whirled back to face her. Apparently, this was unacceptable to the vampire who was striving to maintain his tough front, so he grunted and mumbled something.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Buffy asked, struggling to keep her own voice even while her mind was rapidly ramping up. He said he'd come find me if I didn't go find him. I wasn't not going to find him, I was just… not sure when I would go find him.

"I— dunno, exactly." Spike gave her a puzzled look as he stood before her, willing himself to keep his eyes firmly fixed on her face, not to stare covetously at the length of leg barely hidden by her little peach dress.

"It's daytime," Buffy offered lamely.

"Yeah. It wasn't when I left, but… Yeah. Is now."

Buffy looked at the digital numbers of her desk clock. Just before eight. "You don't live that far from campus."

"I took the tunnels and did a little pest control on my way over," Spike told a half-truth. He had indeed taken the tunnels and had killed something with long claws and murderous red eyes on his way over.

An hour or so ago. The rest of the time had been spent lurking and debating with himself about whether or not this was a spectacularly stupid idea or the workings of destiny.

"Come in?" Buffy stepped aside and motioned for him to follow.

"Thanks, Slayer." His skin was buzzing as he brushed past her, entering the room. "Where's Red?"

"Out already. With Tara."

"Out, is she? About time."

"What? I don't… Wait, really?" Buffy shook her head in disbelief. " Spike, she's not into girls."

"Maybe not. She's into that particular girl, though. That Tara, pretty little witch."

"But— I'm her best friend! She could have told me! If it's true."

"She might think she oughta tell the lady in question first, Slayer. Maybe she just realized it herself. Had a bit of a realization overnight. You know," he looked pointedly at her psychology textbook, refusing to look at her eyes unless he lost his nerve, "some people sleep on the big decisions. Might even get inspiration from a dream."

"A dream?" Buffy's voice came out an octave higher than she intended. "A dream?"

"Well, yeah." Spike grabbed the textbook now and held it as though it were a shield, clasped firmly in one fist, flat over his badly wounded heart. "It's in this psychobabble, isn't it? Dreams are your brain's way of sorting out what's bothering you, your brain's way of giving you answers. Even wish-fulfillment. It's all go when you're dreaming."

"Hmm." Buffy made a noise of agreement through her nose, high-pitched and worrying like a horse's whinny. "I mean, yeah. I've heard that. But, I'm also the slayer, so I have these weird dreams."

"I know about Slayer dreams, Luv. Prophetic and symbolic, aren't they?"

"Very vivid." Buffy nodded.

Spike slowly dropped the book. "I think vamps might have 'em, too. Us folks who are tapped into the supernatural, I think we operate on a higher plane."

Both of them waited. Neither one made the expected insult about the other's intelligence.

Spike regarded that as pretty damning evidence that something had happened last night, something she knew. "You think two people might ever have the same dreams, Luv?"

"Like, two people dream about showing up to class naked? Pretty sure that happens a lot."

Naked Slayer. Naked Slayer, who used to be in a cheerleading uniform, who he held tight, who he had first, before Angelus hurt her and ruined her. "I didn't mean it that way," Spike rasped, his voice a low husk.

Buffy felt something molten start to seep inside of her. Spike's voice should not be sexy.

Spike should not be sexy. Spike should not be an expert in pampering, and loving, and sex if he was also going to be a murdering, evil vampire!

He smelled the sudden sweet hint of arousal as she shifted from barefoot to barefoot. He decided to take a colossal risk. After all, if she staked him, it would mean he didn't have to live in a world where his best fantasy couldn't be fulfilled, where he didn't get a fresh start,—where he didn't have to watch her pass one up.

"M'lady," he whispered and bowed. "I promised I would find you, dream or nightmare."

Buffy gasped, hand flying to her mouth and eyes filling up. It has to be a trick, a trap… "Don't."

"Give me a chance! You and I could make each other's dreams come true. My queen…" He slowly slid his fingers out to brush her soft, heated skin, gently fastening onto her wrist. "Tell me you don't want your loyal consort, and I'll leave."

Her brain was still trying to make sense of tender, sexy Spike who knew her dreams, who'd called her queen and m'lady, and —well, all that intimate stuff. "You saw it, too?"

"More than saw. Lived it. Loved it. Loved you."

And she'd loved him. "Dreams don't come true. Uh. Wait." She rubbed her brow, still leaving her arm in his grasp. Slayer dreams did come true, funnily enough.

He chuckled, low and smoky, right against her temple. "Well unless you've popped the French Riviera outside the Hellmouth and come into oodles of money to build that testament to Windsor Castle-meets-Bodice Ripper, then no. But we could make our own dreams, couldn't we?"

She began to nod. She wanted this. It was literally her dream, after all. "What about Drusilla and evil, and the fact that you and I hate each other?"

"Didn't hate each other last night. Or under that spell of Red's. You hate me, Slayer?" His dark brows drew together, head cocked to the side, hiding a stab of fear under an almost-innocent expression.

"Not… always. You're annoying!"

"So are you! You tellin' me that Angel never got on your nerves? How's a bloke who can't see his reflection spend THAT much time gettin' his hair gelled? Had no sense of humor. Bloody borin' or bloody sadistic, when he wasn't being noble. Ah—" he held up a warning hand, "if you're noble, sadistic, or boring all the time, you don't have any fun. You don't stay happy, Slayer."

Annoyingly accurate, Buffy thought, a scowl flitting across her face. "You love Drusilla."

"An' you love the poofy bastard who left you and broke your heart. You were gonna try again with Mr. Iowa and I was belumbered with Harmony." Spike paused. He wasn't going to be love's bitch all over again. At least, not out loud. He felt his heart contract despite it's stillness. He was falling for her. It had started years ago and grown, not like a cancer, but like a greedy tree, roots stealing the wellsprings of devotion from Dru, from evil, from his reputation. "Might've been a dream to you, but to me… Dammit, Slayer, just tell me to go if you don't want to try." He swung angrily for the door.

Buffy lunged on instinct, yanking him back to face her. "I said I owned you, that you were mine, you were inside..." Inside of me. Not just my head, not just my body. Both. Heart, too.

"God, yes. His eyes rolled back as she arched up into him, a crashing kiss that was real and harsh, nothing like the perfection of their dreams. "Lemme prove it. You don't need that faked up castle to be the queen, Pet."

Buffy found herself pushing him backwards, not to push him from the room, but to get leverage against the door, half-climbing him. How often does a good dream let you grab it? She dug her fingers into his shoulders and jumped, knowing he'd catch her.

Catch her he did, hands under her cheeks for a second before her ankles locked and his hands went roaming, one in her hair, one on her back. "You don't just want some little lapdog," he licked her jugular and stopped, lips against her ear. "You want a partner, a real one. Something running wild in you wants to hunt in my pack. Something human in you wants a man who'll spoil you, care for you, who'll make you feel safe once you're done the slaughter."

Raw words, rough words, and uncannily true words. "Yes. Shit, Spike, yes!" She leaned back, giving him the message. Bed. Now. Before I wake up again. "Wait… what do we hunt?"

"Bad things."

"You're a bad thing."

"All of us have a bit of bad, Baby. You supposed to be yanking me into your cozy bed?"

Reality bit her as his blunt teeth raked over her throat and one hand massaged her breast. "Oh, Spike… The guys won't understand." Buffy knew she wanted him. She didn't want to lose them.

"The girls will. Give 'em time. Give us time."

A dream ends and the memory of it fades within hours. Buffy watched her hands pull on his belt and his shirt, watched with startled eyes as the same little hairs and ridges, lines and imperfections appeared in the flesh.

I want more than one night. Even if the price is high, I want it…

"There must be a reason we were in one another's dreams," Spike whispered, seeing the want in her eyes, hoping his words would coax her to be honest with herself, to give in without guilt.

Buffy realized it. He'd been all about love and protection when he was with Drusilla. The vampiress had taken it for granted, but Buffy was starting to appreciate it. "You're right. I think the universe wants us to be together. To work together. Maybe we save the world or something."

"Did it once before. Why not do it again?"

Buffy slipped her long shirt up and her panties down, welcoming him into her warmth and feeling him slide in, the sensation startlingly familiar. As he gasped and locked eyes with her, she knew it was the same for Spike.

"Could it have been some spell?" Buffy asked before pleasure took over her faculties.

"Don't care if it was." He looked at her tense face, such a mixture of beauty, strength, and fragility. Like Drusilla in many ways, but so different. In some ways… maybe better. "There are some kinds of magic you don't mess with."

Life had handed her so many sucky and complicated "gifts". It would be nice to have a complicated one that made her feel like this, loved and respected. Not to mention, this gift was criminally easy on the eyes and unrelentingly hard against her soft, aching parts. "Come here."

"Can't get much closer," he pointed out with a wink.

"Wanna see if I can make this a recurring dream. Or maybe we can make some whole new ones…"

One week later…

"Coffee tomorrow?" Buffy juggled her books into her bag as she and Willow met at the entrance of the lecture hall.

"Sure, three?" Willow nodded, still underlining something in a textbook.

"Can we do five? That should be dark enough for Spike."

"Tara has class at 4:30."

The best friends walked in silence through the quad. "Seven?" they both said as one.

"Why don't we skip the coffee and make it dinner? Spike likes when I sneak him into the dining hall and he gets to eat at the wing bar. I think he likes the rush of 'stealing'."

Willow frowned, then blushed. "I kinda get the same rush from hacking."

Buffy bit her lip. "I get that from slaying. Also, kicking butts of sanctimonious jerks."

"You're thinking about Riley, aren't you?"

"Is it wrong to hope that I have to throw him to safety when we raid the Initiative labs… maybe throw him a little extra hard?"

Willow shook her head, face innocent and voice devoid of any emotion. "That sounds entirely reasonable. Speaking of reasonable… is Xander okay?"

"Mr. Groom-to-Be is slowly coming around. Anya pointed out that she could technically be inverted back to a —"

"Reverted?"

"Yeah, technically, she could be reverted back to a demon if her old boss wanted her to, but she would still want to be his wife and fight for the good guys. She had a long speech about justice demon versus vengeance demon. There might be some PR thing happening."

"PC? Like politically correct?"

"No, PR, like she might get some demony marketing gig about proper terms for vengeance demons who are really just dealing with bastards who need a good near-killing."

"That I can see." They paused at the center of the quad. One path went towards Buffy and Willow's dorm room and the other went toward Tara's. Willow hesitated. "Did you tell your mom?"

"Not yet."

"Giles was surprisingly cool about it."

"He remembers Spike saving his life. Also, Spike gave him a hundred dollars."

"What? Wow. That's kind of cheap in terms of bribing a Watcher to turn a blind eye toward a Slayer indulging in vampy forbidden love." Willow appeared stunned.

Buffy laughed. "Giles paid Spike for his help when he was turned into a Fyral. Spike said it was something symbolic. Paying a debt of honor and showing that it wasn't about money anymore. I mean, he told me that. He and Giles just grunted at each other and had whiskey."

"Aww. That's cute. Weird, but cute."

"I think that's pretty much been my week. And you and Tara?"

"We're weird and cute?"

"No! Or, maybe yes. In a good way. Can I ask one thing?"

Willow steeled herself as Buffy's face took on a guarded look. "Yes."

"What made you realize that she was more than a friend?" Or more than an enemy-turned-ally-turned former betrothed?

Willow's eyes went all soft and dreamy. "You won't believe this."

"Oh, believe me. I totally will."

"I had a dream and when I woke up I knew it was the right thing to do. It was crystal clear. I loved her and I shouldn't have to hide it. I was lucky she felt the same way."

"A dream?" Buffy demanded sharply.

"What's wrong with that?" Willow's voice was equally pointed.

"Nothing! Nothing at all! I'm just surprised. I had a dream about Spike, too. Super vivid." Buffy rubbed her forehead distractedly. "Does that seem weird to you?"

Willow shrugged. "Important people and events show up in dreams all the time."

"Yeah. Yeah…" Buffy shook her head, feeling silly. She and Spike shared something on a deeper level, probably. Slayer dreams, vampire visions… people who have stupidly high sex drives and need a fantasyland to direct them to the obvious options. I'll keep the xxx-rated dreams that lead to xxx-rated reality out of this. "Seven for pigging out?" Buffy said brightly.

"Oh yeah, we can totally invite Xander, Anya, and Giles, too. Maybe everyone will just assume he's a professor?"

"I meant seven o'clock," Buffy smiled. "But seven at seven sounds good. Kind of James Bond-y."

"Oh shoot!" Willow stopped laughing abruptly. "Seven tomorrow is the Sister of Gaia meeting. Tara and I were thinking maybe we should go, just to be sociable."

"I thought they were mocking actual magic- users and selling lavender and sage bundles to put in underwear drawers?"

"You know what? We can be sociable another night."


Allison clapped politely as the fundraiser's total was announced.

"It was our best bake sale ever!" Kelsey, the co-president of the Sisters of Gaia, smiled warmly at their newest member. "Thank you for all of your beautiful treats, everyone. Allison, I have to say, your cookies were a big hit! We sold out of them in the first hour!"

"I promise I didn't use any enticement spells!" Allison said quickly. "I only used magic on the cookies… themselves… What?" Everyone was staring at her, mouths in various states of consternation.

"We don't joke about using 'spells' and 'potions', Allison. It's in poor taste and perpetuates harmful stereotypes," Kelsey said with a tight, fake smile.

"Oh." Allison sat back, cheeks flaming. She'd been about to ask what all the other sisters had done to enchant their baked goods, but she swallowed her question.

Wow. So my goodies were probably the only ones with any magical properties? She hid a smile under a sip of tea as she remembered the spell she'd cast. Those cookies were supposed to inspire great dreams, dreams of love and fulfillment.

Of course, it was probably good that a spell-based snack wasn't a requirement. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered how many times she'd worked that particular charm as she baked, decorated, and packaged the cookies. She might have completely ruined the spell's impact, or she could have suped it up exponentially.

Allison decided not to say anything and sat nodding as Kelsey outlined topics for the next newsletter.

I hope someone got some sweet dreams out of all of this….


I hope you have some sweet dreams from it, too!

Thank you for reading, Sweet

Pale Girl by S.C. Principale was released a couple of weeks ago. I would love it if some of you would check it on Amazon/Kindle Unlimited. It got its first 5 Star Editorial Review this week from the Paranormal Romance Guild!