It never occurred to me to wonder...I was like Faith."Want Take.Have." Is that so wrong?(Or like the Criminal on the Simpsons, "Yoink!") Maybe I should go be painfully self-conscious now and reflect on the error of my ways....I'm learning from the best.

I don't find it jarring to use canon elements in AUs -- there's quite a tradition of "change just one thing" in SF AUs that would support many essential-to-character traits and actions occurring regardless.

Is actually stealing a line okay?

Is actually stealing a line okay?

Absolutely fine, I'd say -- part of the point of fic, whether it's AU or not, is weaving in canon elements with your own story to make something new of them. I spin things off from bits of dialog all the time, and I don't see any reason not to do it just because it's an AU.

It occurs to me that I am in fact totally ignorant of the canonical rules regarding fic, since up until recently all mine were essentially original characters, moving through an AU of someone else's landscape. But I can't - from this seat of newbiehood - see any reason why, if it enhances the story, the writer shouldn't go with existing dialogue.

Cindy, I am really enjoying this, and I don't see a problem with using actual lines from the show in an AU story. Actually, I like it because in AU stories one element has changed which effects other elements of the story, but it does not change everything.

Yeah, cool, huh? Although sometimes,it changes more than you expect. Although it was fun to take that whole "Kick his ass," thing and move it...I find I give Xander's lines to Bayliss pretty frequently, actually.

As the queen of "yank as much from canon as you can get away with while still making sense", if the dialogue fits, use it.

I adored the part with the consecrated ground.

Hi all. I haven't been on the board much and I blame all the wonderful Buffista writers for enticing me to attempt this with their fun and intelligent creations. I had no idea it would turn into this kind of an obsession.

Following is a primarily unbeta'd and unfinished story I've been working on. I'm re-posting the beginning since a few changes were made and also so that everything ties together.

Dream A Little Dream

Part One

It didn't feel like a dream - it felt real. The tension, the excitement, the surprise. Dream or not, Buffy was convinced that this had something to do with magic. Living in Sunnydale will do that to you.

Buffy's first instinct was to ask Willow about any recent spells she had performed. Not that she suspected Willow. Well, not after accusing her the night before last. Either way, Willow had promised Buffy that she had been extremely careful lately with her spells. Spell actually. Willow confessed to using a locator spell to find a rare book the previous week. Nothing more.

Which failed to help Buffy figure out exactly what was happening.

It was three o'clock in the morning and she'd just woken, drenched in perspiration, from a vivid dream that had started quite innocently. The same dream that she'd experienced every night this week.

In the dream, Buffy and Faith entered an older crypt that was vaguely recognizable as the Hanover crypt, inhabited by a gang of vampires last year, although she couldn't be positive.
After a complete inspection of the small room, Buffy said to Faith, "All clear. Looks like nothing has been disturbed in here for awhile."

"Especially the dust, B. Damn."

"The Hanovers have been dead for about a millennium. You expect the cleaning lady to still be on retainer?"

Faith walked over to Buffy and mock punched her in the arm with a coy smile. "I'm just saying, it's not like The Watcher's Council is gonna kick in a couple measly bucks to help their two star slayers out with medical bills if we start wheezing when our lungs are filled with crap due to our chosen profession."

"Uh-huh."

"What's up with you? No remark about inhaling? Sucking in the dead?" Faith asked as she stepped closer to Buffy and placed her right palm on Buffy's forehead. "You don't feel feverish."

With the touch of Faith's hand, Buffy felt a flash of electricity vibrate through her body and she backed up a step away from Faith towards the rear wall of the crypt. "I'm...fine, Faith."

Faith's brow was furrowed; she was obviously offended."Fine, huh? Good to know," she said as she turned away from Buffy and started toward the entrance of the crypt.

Instinctively, Buffy reached out and caught Faith's hand, turning her back around so that they were once again face to face. Averting her eyes, Buffy told her, "I'm sorry. I'm a little... wigged tonight."

When Faith didn't respond, Buffy slowly raised her eyes and met Faith's stare, realizing just how close they were standing to each other. She could feel Faith's breath on her face. Warm with a hint of mint. Apparently, when she pulled Faith back to her, she had used more force than she thought.

A feeling of unease and excitement filled Buffy as her breath caught in her throat from the realization that she was still holding Faith's hand in her own.

She also realized that she didn't want to let go.

Faith leaned closer to Buffy, backing her against the wall, and whispered into Buffy's ear, "I might have expected this from Willow. You know? She gives off a vibe."

Buffy didn't move away.

Faith paused a moment, without moving either, and continued. "Thought about it once or twice even...but you?"

Buffy felt her breathing become more rapid. Shallow and quick. The thought of Faith's lips so close to her ear and the feel of Faith's warm breath on her neck wasn't the slightest bit odd. In fact, it felt exhilirating.

Faith's free hand brushed against Buffy's cheek, pausing at her chin and turning Buffy's face just slightly towards her own. "If you want me to stop, B, tell me now."

Buffy still didn't move, couldn't move. She felt as if every nerve in her body were tingling.
Faith moved a couple of inches closer to Buffy and slowly, placed her lips against Buffy's. Tentatively at first, in case Buffy were testing her, and then she ever so slightly applied more pressure.

Buffy tightened her hold on Faith's hand and moaned gently as her other hand reached around Faith's waist, placed it on her back and pulled Faith up against her own body.. The shockwaves going through her were almost too much to stand as she pictured the way the two of them looked at that moment. Picturing it as if she were watching the interaction outside of herself.

When Faith parted Buffy's lips with her tongue, and Buffy could feel Faith's tongue gently glide across her upper and then lower teeth, then touch her own tongue, Buffy felt a hunger pass through her. A hunger that desired everything that was happening and so much more. A hunger that was building with every second of contact. A hunger that....

and that was when she woke.

Every night for a week. The same dream.

Over two hundred miles away the pulse monitors in the basement of a large hospital were fluctuating erratically while a young girl's still form gave little indication of the turmoil she was experiencing.

Part Two

"Dennis, this is not my idea of fun," Cordelia said. "Now, give me my other Prada shoe or I claim laryngitis for a month," she warned, as her irritation with her roommate escalated. She'd been spending a ton of time at the office and hadn't had much time for him but she was thirty minutes late getting to the office and she still had to pick up coffee. She looked under her bed, did an extensive search

of her closet and checked in between the cushions of the sofa without success. This is ridiculous, she thought.
"Are you listening to me? Because ponder this, Casper. I can move back in with Angel and lease this place in a heartbeat. And I don't mean someone that's open-minded like me. If I have to hold out for a controlling old nag that resembles your mother, I will!" she yelled at her living room ceiling.

Cordelia waited impatiently for what seemed like an eternity before giving in. "Fine. That's fine. You can keep the Prada. I have other shoes, you know."

Turning around to go back to her room and pick a less outfit coordinated pair of heels, she was startled to see a black Prada shoe floating at eye level a few inches in front of her.

"Yeesh! Give me a heart attack," she said as she snatched the shoe from thin air. Lifting her left leg and sliding her foot in the shoe, she inhaled slowly and added in a slightly calmer manner, "I know I haven't been home much, Dennis, but work is hectic and Angel really needs my help right now. Visions aren't a part time job."

Silence.

"Dennis?"

Slam

Cordelia walked down the hallway and stood in front of her bedroom door. "If you're going to hang out in my room, please refrain from slamming my door." She glanced at her watch and made a resolution with herself to try and spend more time with Dennis. As soon as things were settled. If she took back roads, she could still get to the office fashionably late. She was just about to open the front door when it happened again.

Slam

"I'm going to let that one go since you are obviously having a bad incorporeal day. Just keep your mitts off of my shoes."

When she strolled into the office of Angel Investigations almost an hour late, Cordelia was met by the stares of Angel and Wesley.
Angel was bent over searching through Cordelia's desk drawers and Wesley was sitting on the edge of her desk and talking on her phone.

"You're late," Angel remarked.

"Good morning to you too, Angel," she said. "Can I help you find something or would you prefer to just continue rummaging through my desk?"

Angel closed the drawer he had been foraging in. "I'm trying to find the coffee. There wasn't any out on the counter. Didn't you order any ground coffee yet?"

Sitting down at her desk, Cordelia pulled a couple of bags of coffee from her carry-all and handed them to Angel. "I drove halfway to the office before I remembered that my co-workers wouldn't be able to make it through the day without their precious caffeine. I had to turn around, go to the store, find someone to grind the beans for me since we don't have a coffee grinder, Angel, and then come all the way back here."

Angel took the bags and walked away from Cordelia without a word. Since when was he supposed to be making the coffee?

"Um... you're welcome," Cordelia said, while she turned on her computer monitor and placed her carry-all into her bottom desk drawer. "Angel, any new leads on the Anchovy case?"

"Anchovy? Is that a new...ah. First of all, the client's name is Antolini... and no. Nothing new," Angel replied. As an after thought he added, "Since you mentioned it, check the file to make sure it's not under Anchovy." Angel made a mental note to look over the most recent files for inaccuracies and went into his office.

"Ooookay. Is everyone in a bad mood today? What about you, Wesley? How are you today?"

Wesley placed a hand over the mouth piece of the phone, looked at Cordelia with a scowl and said, "How am I? I was jolly good prior to the telephone ringing off the hook when someone wasn't here to answer it." Turning his back, he continued with his conversation, "Yes, I understand perfectly, sir, but the price quoted still stands. Should you require our assistance to remove the...disturbance from your attic, it is imperative that we agree on the payment amount." After a brief pause, "What you do to your own place of residence is your business. I'm certain an explosive of that size will more than do the job....."

Cordelia jumped up, rushed around her desk and said, "Give me that." Taking the phone from him, she spoke into the receiver, "Hello, sir? I apologize. Our janitor had absolutely no business picking up the phone while I was away from my desk. He's mentally retarded so we do what we can to help him." Glaring at Wesley she continued, "Yes, of course sir. If you could please describe the situation to me, I am sure that we can work out some way to assist you. Can you hold for just a second?"

Cordelia placed the caller on hold and sat back down at her desk . She was just about to pick up line one to finish getting the clients information when Wesley bent over and placed both hands on her desk.

"The janitor?" he asked, with his eyebrows raised.

Angel stood in the doorway of his office and hoping to avoid another office argument said, "Wesley? Could you possibly help me with......something? Downstairs?"

"Just one moment, Angel." Wesley replied without losing eye contact with Cordelia.

"Yes, but....." Angel started.

"The mentally retarded janitor, hmm?"

Angel gave up and went back into his office to pick up line one. At times like this, he wondered why Doyle had encouraged co-workers in the first place.

Cordelia remained sitting but leaned forward in her chair. "Perhaps you had failed to notice this Wesley, but the space you are standing on is just a minute portion of a very large establishment called an office building."

Wesley straightened and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was not amused.

Cordelia continued, "Now, seeing as we have to pay for the office space and Angel's downstairs living space with currency, we have to earn money by aiding people and