Seven stunned faces reflected back at Giles. They were gathered at the former Watcher's house,
spread out within the small living room. Oz, Willow and Buffy were seated on the couch, with
Xander in the matching chair. Angel and Cordelia were sitting on the stools by the counter
dividing the kitchen from the living room, and Spike was leaning in the doorway to said kitchen.
Giles was standing near his desk in the corner opposite the stairs.
"Are you sure?" Angel asked, breaking the tense silence.
"Yes," Giles replied, holding the book in front of him. "A-And whomever does not fulfill their
fantasy, will, er, die."
"Ok, let me see if I got this straight," Cordelia said. "We have to act out our most repetitive
fantasy and if we don't, we by it?"
"That is correct," Giles replied. "However, there are limits."
"Such as?" Buffy asked.
"You cannot put the other person or persons life in peril," Giles explained. "And the fantasy has
to-to be possible. For example, it cannot involve Spike or-or-or Angel being out in the sun, or
one of us being turned..."
"What if our fantasy involves getting down and dirty with someone?" Xander said. "Or more
than one someones?"
"Figures," Cordelia sneered.
"Then that must occur," Giles replied. "Or you shall die."
"Everyone, or just the person whose fantasy it is?" Willow asked.
"Only the person whose fantasy it is," he answered. "However, I believe that since we are all
adults now, we should be able to-to put aside our personal hang-ups."
"What if your fantasy could hurt someone?" Oz said. "Emotionally or physically."
"We must remember that none of us ever planned on...er, acting out our fantasies," Giles replied.
"That is why they are termed 'fantasy.' It is our subconscious' way of releasing emotions that
would not be-be proper or probable in reality." He removed his glasses and began to polish them.
"As for physically, as long as the other person's life is not put into danger, anything goes."
"A little bondage is always good for the soul," Xander joked.
"What if the other person doesn't want to...you know," Willow said, blushing slightly.
"I think we can all agree that none of us wishes another in-in this room to die," Giles said,
replacing his glasses. He looked pointedly at a certain vampire. "Correct?"
"It's my bloody job to make sure you twits don't die," Spike replied, scowling at the man. "Or
have you forgotten that over the past two years and thought I helped because you were my
friends?" The last word dripped with distaste.
"Boy, someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning," Buffy commented.
"Shut up, Slayer," he growled at her.
"How are we going to do this?" Angel asked. "If two fantasies involve the same person, he or
she can't be in both places at once."
"And what if we want to whip someone until they cry, but then they're involved in another
fantasy and too hurt to move?" Cordelia added.
"I always knew you were a dominatrix, Cord," Xander commented.
Giles answered before a verbal battle could commence between the two. "I have thought about
that-that possibility, and have come up with what I hope is an, er, adequate solution." He picked
up a pile of blank notebook paper and several pens. He walked around the living room, giving
each person several sheets and a writing utensil. "Everyone is to write your fantasy with a general
detail of what it encompasses, then I shall schedule them accordingly."
"So if my fantasy involves beating Spike to a pulp, it'll be at the end of the week, not at the
beginning," Buffy said, twirling her pen between her fingers. Spike snorted in derision.
"Yes," Giles replied. "And I shall be the only one who is knowledgeable about everyone's
fantasies. Any questions?" The seven others in the room shook their heads. "Very well. Take
your time. The prophecy said it had to-to be your most repetitive fantasy, and something you feel
is simply forbidden for you to say or do."
The former Watcher took a seat at his desk in the corner of his living room and everyone began to
write. The room was quiet, punctuated only by the sounds of pens writing on paper. Suddenly, a
snarl was heard from the kitchen and Angel was hit with a wadded-up piece of paper. They all
watched as Spike stalked out of the house, practically slamming the door behind him.
"O-k," Buffy drew out. "What was that about?"
Angel smoothed out the crumpled paper, and, without reading it, folded it in half. "He can't write
very well and it frustrates him."
"A two-hundred year old who can't write?" Buffy said. "That's weird."
"Things were different back when Spike was a boy, Buffy," Angel explained. "If you didn't come
from a high station, schooling didn't exist."
"And I take it Bleach-boy was from the wrong side of the tracks," Xander said. "Did they even
have tracks back then?"
"It is so delightful to know that the American school system is doing a proper job of teaching
history," Giles commented dryly.
The door opened, and Spike reentered to everyone looking at him. "What?" he growled.
"Nothing," Buffy replied. Everyone went back to writing.
The blond vampire returned to the kitchen and snatched the paper Angel was holding out over the
counter. A few minutes later, everyone but Spike had finished.
"If you fold them over, I shall collect them in here," Giles said, indicating an empty box. He went
from person to person, ending in the kitchen just as Spike finished. He then returned to his desk.
"It shall take me a few minutes to go over these. If I may suggest a group patrol...?"
"Got it, Giles," Buffy said, standing. "Come on, troops. Let's go slay some raspberry ice
"Yum," Willow commented, rising with Oz and following Buffy out the door.
"Do you think they'll have that bubble-gum stuff again?" Xander asked, trailing behind them.
"I guess this means I'll patrol while everyone else eats," Angel said to Cordelia as they, too, went
out the door.
"I'll go with you," Cordelia replied. "I don't eat ice cream anyway. Too fattening."
Spike was last to leave, lighting up a cigarette before pulling the door shut behind him.
Giles pulled the fantasies out of the box and began to read. He had a feeling that things would
change within the group with this prophecy, but he did not know if it would be for the better.
"I have written what day your fantasy takes place on the sheet of paper, and what day you
participate in another's fantasy, as well as who that person is," Giles told them an hour later. He
held the papers his hand, divided by person. "This is the most anonymous way I-I could think of
to do this. No one will know who is involved outside of the participants of the fantasy."
"When do we start?" Willow asked.
"I have scheduled the four of them for tomorrow and four for the day after. It is up to you,
however, to meet and decide on the times and places," Giles replied. He started to pass out the
papers. "Please remember, fantasies are usually about what is-is simply forbidden to us or what
we would not, er, normally say or do."
There's this spell I've been wanting to do, but it requires two specific type of magick users, and
I've fantasized that I would get up enough nerve to ask Giles to help me...
"I found it through a fellow Wicca on the Internet," Willow explained. "After I got it, I
researched it over and over and over again, to make sure it was a true spell and that it was really a
Giles looked down at the simple, printed-out sheet in his hand. "It does seem rather simple and
straightforward." He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then replaced them. "I do not see
why you would not have come to me with this spell sooner."
"Well, you know, it's Angel," Willow replied. "And he's not exactly your favorite person. After
he fed off Buffy, he wasn't mine, either. But after I got this and thought about it, it really should
be done. Then we would never have to worry about Angel going back to the bad guy's side."
"That would be a bit of a relief," Giles said.
"So you'll do it?"
"Yes," he replied.
Vain or not, for two years I've been wearing the same outfits. It's horrible. My most repetitve
fantasy has been to go on a shopping spree with someone else's money...
"Charge," Cordelia answered for the tenth time that day, putting the plastic card on the counter.
A few minutes later, she took her full bags to the overflowing Blazer, which she and Angel had
driven to Sunnydale in, and stuffed them inside.
Without a pause, she returned to the mall.
My fantasy has been to ask Buffy a specific question and for her to answer me truthfully...
"Do you forgive me?"
Buffy frowned at Angel, who was standing by the heavily curtained window of the motel room.
"Anything," Angel replied. "Everything. For hurting you, for leaving you, for everything I did
when I lost my soul."
"Of course I forgive you," Buffy said, rising from her seat to go to him. "I let go of everything
last year as my Christmas present to you, even though you didn't know that."
She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him. "You're forgiven, Angel."
Angel held her close and allowed one part of his heart to be at peace.
I have to tell Cordelia...
"Alright, Xander, I'm here," Cordelia said, entering Giles' office at the university. "Where's the
others so we can get this over with."
Xander stood and wiped his hands on his pants. "Er...they're...this way," he replied, gesturing
back out the door from which she came. She rolled her eyes and walked back out of the office,
decked out in one of her new outfits. Xander led her to a specific door, then opened it and
ushered her inside.
"Xander, we're in a janitor's closet," Cordelia said disdainfully. "Don't tell me your fantasy is to
have sex in here."
"No," Xander answered quickly.
"Then what are we doing in here?"
Xander swallowed past the lump in his throat, wiped his hand on his pants again, and said,
"Cordelia, I love you. Still. And I'm sorry. Again. And that's all I wanted to say."
Cordelia stood there, a shocked expression on her face, as Xander turned and went back out the
I can honestly say that I hate Angel, for what he did both with and without his soul. And he is
going to hurt as much as I do...
Angel nodded at Giles, knowing this was something the man he'd once called friend needed to do. Then everything erupted in pain.
I love Willow and I've forgiven her; however, I have yet to have closure with Xander...
Oz drew his fist back and punched Xander as hard as he could. The taller brunette fell to the
ground with the force of impact.
Then Oz held out his hand to help Xander stand back up. "That's for kissing Willow," he said.
"Got it," Xander replied, rubbing his jaw. "Um, ow."
I just wan to hod Bufes hand.
"So, I'm in your fantasy, huh?" Buffy said as she joined Spike in the park. She sat down on the
bench next to him. "What has your sick mind come up with this time?"
"What makes you think that, Slayer?" Spike asked with a smirk.
"Because you're you," she replied. "And if it's one thing I've learned these past two years, you
"I'm hurt," he said with dramatic sadness.
"Is anyone else joining us in an orgy, or do you just want another Slayer under your 'belt'?" Buffy
asked with a grin.
Spike looked away from her and out into the night. "Nothing that exciting, luv," he said quietly.
His shyly took her hand, entwining their fingers, then let them rest on the bench. "I only want to
enjoy the night."
"With me?" Buffy said, staring down at their linked hands.
"Is that a problem?" he growled back.
"No! No problem," she replied quickly.
I want to know what the blackmail is making Spike on our side. I've been fantasizing about
finding it out for a year and a half now...
"Spike?" Buffy said a few minutes later.
"Yeah, pet?" Spike replied.
"You know you're in my most repetitive fantasy...well, obviously, because you got the list from
Giles," she said. "Anyway, my fantasy has been for you to tell me what the blackmail is. So,
what is it?"
She thought he wasn't going to answer her as he continued to stare of into the night. Then, he
said quietly, "I wasn't."
Buffy frowned. "What?"
"I wasn't blackmailed," Spike told her.
"Oh," she said. "But then why...?"
He shrugged, his thumb rubbing the side of her thumb absently. After a moment, Buffy leaned
over a kissed him on the cheek.
They sat there, undisturbed, for the remainder of the night.
"We're all here and living, right?" Buffy asked as she entered Giles' house, Spike trailing behind
her, after patrol. "Fantasies fulfilled?"
She looked from person to person, then frowned. "Where's Angel?"
"At the motel," Cordelia answered. "He said to let you know he wouldn't be here."
"So, Giles, is there anything else we need to do?" Xander asked, a semi-large bruise marring his
"No," Giles replied, writing something on a piece of paper. He folded it, stuck it in an envelope,
then sealed it. "Cordelia, if you will please give this to-to Angel. It's from Willow a-and myself."
"Sure," Cordelia said, accepting the envelope. "Well, I guess if there's nothing else I need to do,
"Bye Cordelia," Willow said. Oz nodded to her.
The former cheerleader paused in the open doorway to Giles'. "Xander, are you coming?"
Xander bolted off the couch and behind her out the door.
The remaining friends gave each other puzzled looks, and shrugs. "So, Buff, wanna go to the
Bronze?" Willow asked.
"Sure, sounds like fun," Buffy answered. She glanced over at Giles. "That is, if I'm done...?"
"Yes, Buffy, you're through," Giles replied with a smile.
"Then we're so gone," Buffy said. She, Willow and Oz went out the door. Half a second later,
the Slayer stuck her head back in. "Spike, you coming or what?"
Spike sent Giles a half-grin, then quickly left, shutting the door behind him.
Giles leaned back in his chair and absently cleaned his glasses. He'd been correct, things had
changed between the group, and he was glad it had been for the better. Sliding his glasses back
on his nose, he looked down at his bruised knuckles.
He certainly felt better.