Title: Though In A Dream

Author: meagan

nutmeg@serv.net

Summary: Omega h's challenge: Something weird goes through Sunnydale and peoples dreams get mixed up. So who dreams about stripping Oz? Who blushes to see Willow in the morning? Who wakes up screaming from strange nightmares? And why is Giles suffering from insomnia? [Yeah, this is another I-don't-wanna-work,-so-this-happened fic. Contains slash, of course, since I'm writing it, and non-slash seems to be more or less beyond my abilities.]

Distribution: List archives. Otherwise, please ask. If nothing else, it will eventually be on my page -- http://www.geocities.com/meaganola

Spoiler: "Fear, Itself," I think. No real spoilers, though, except for character inclusion things.

Rating: PG/PG-13-ish.

Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. If they were mine, things would be different. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, and anyone else I forgot.

Note: I couldn't think of a title, so I just did a search for "dream" on Lord Byron's poem "Don Juan" for something that sounded vaguely appropriate. I just have to say that Byron was my favorite Romantic poet (note to self: don't read his stuff at work again). Without him, life as
we know it might not have happened. We might not have this lovely mailing list, for one thing. Why? Well, it's simple. His daughter (and my girlkitty's namesake, since that cat claimed the top of my monitor as her own the very first day she came home with me), Ada Lovelace, was the first computer programmer. Who knows what would have happened if she hadn't been born?


Though In A Dream
by meagan


Oz was having a very odd dream.

This in itself wasn't unusual. He had never had what could be called "normal" dreams. But this one was strange because it was a *recurring* dream. This was the third night in a row that he had had this particular dream. He had a few recurring *themes* in his dreams, like hang gliding
without a hang glider, but never the exact same thing, over and over. The hang gliding thing, for example, was sometimes over water, sometimes over beaches, sometimes through cities, sometimes over forests. Even though the dream was new to him, he was aware that it was not new for whoever he was in the dream. For this person, it was something that had been happening for months. And it wasn't even *that* odd (which, of course, was strange for Oz) aside from the fact that he had the wrong viewpoint in the dream.

In this dream, someone was watching him slowly remove his clothing. But *Oz* was the someone in the dream. So he was watching himself in a careful strip performance (no *tease* about this routine) every night. It wasn't as disturbing as it probably should have seemed since he wasn't himself in the dream. But it was still slightly unnerving because he wasn't sure exactly *who* he was.

~~~

Buffy jerked upright, screaming. Another nightmare. But, thinking over the events of the nightmare, she was confused. Since when did *she* get upset at getting a B on a midterm? Or getting Byron confused with Shelley? She frowned. She didn't even realize that she knew who Byron and Shelley *were*.

Sighing, she fluffed her pillows, pulled her comforter to her chin, and settled back down, hoping that she wouldn't have *that* nightmare again that night.

~~~

Giles stared at the ceiling. Again. Maybe there was something on tv that would bore him into dreamland.

~~~

He knew he shouldn't be seeing this. Again. It was even more disturbing than his usual dream. Well, okay, his usual dream was no longer disturbing to him. He had even actually started looking forward to it. There was no way he could tell Anya about it, but that was okay because it wasn't like he was going to actually *do* anything about it no matter how much he wanted to.

But this dream... Willow, hair tousled on her pillow, a contented smile on her lips. He felt dirty. *Oz* was supposed to be seeing this. Not Xander. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tear his eyes away. It finally dawned on him that he was actually just in the body of whoever the dream belonged to, so he had no control over its actions. He was just along for the ride. So to speak.

She stirred, stretching lazily. "Oh, hey. You're awake already." She turned her head away, glancing at the alarm clock. "And we have an hour before I have to go. So what do you want to do to kill the time?"

He could feel the blood rushing to his face. His mouth opened, and, even though he *knew* what was next, he was still utterly and completely shocked by the extremely familiar voice that came out. "Oh, I can think of a couple of things." He watched, stunned, as Anya's hands reached out from the body he was inhabiting and entangled themselves in Willow's hair.

~~~

The next afternoon, the group gathered at Giles' apartment. To their surprise and alarm, he was distracted. He kept starting sentences and ending them by trailing off and staring into space. Finally, Willow spoke up.

"Giles, are you all right? You look like Buffy did last week when she couldn't sleep."

Deliberately, he dragged his eyes back to the group. "Yes. Well, I seem to be suffering from a bit of insomnia myself."

Buffy sighed. "I'm tempted to say I would prefer to get that insomnia back. I had this weird dream last night. And the night before, and the night before that. Really, really disturbing. It doesn't *seem* that bad now that I'm awake, but in the dream, it felt like the world was going to end."

The last half of the sentence caught Giles' attention. "The world was going to end? Another prophecy to research?"

She shook her head. "I think I just have to avoid whatever class involves Byron and Shelley. Who are they, anyway?"

Now Willow turned to her, startled. "Did you get a B on the midterm in your dream?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Because remember last week when I kept waking up screaming?" Buffy nodded. "That was *my* dream." Willow frowned, attempting to remember her own dream the previous night. "Hey, Oz, I had that dream about rock climbing that you have every couple of weeks. In this one, I -- I mean, *you* were climbing up a pyramid in Mexico instead of taking the stair things. Our dreams must be getting mixed up or something."

Now Anya spoke up. "That would explain why I had a dream about helping Buffy train and yelling at Xander for spilling Sprite all over the couch. I got Giles' dream. So who --" She stopped, blushing furiously.

Xander and Oz had been sitting silently through the entire exchange. When Anya cut herself off mid-sentence, Xander stood abruptly. "I think it's time for me to go get something to eat while you guys research." He walked out the door without waiting for any requests.

But Oz followed him. "So. Dreams are mixed up. We know who got everyone's dreams except two. So whose did you get?"

Xander sighed. "Anya."

"Really? What was her dream about?"

"Willow."

Oz frowned, confused. "*How* about Willow?"

Once again, Xander sighed. "Let's just say that, well, I'm not sure I wanted to know that much about her. Anya, I mean. It's going to be very hard facing her without thinking about... Well, let's just say that she's thinking about things that *you* should be thinking about. I mean, you're
the only one who should be thinking about them."

"Oh." Oz considered the information, grinning slightly as the image formed. "So, Anya and Willow? Could be interesting." Xander shrugged and continued walking. When his pace sped up, Oz reached out and gently grabbed his arm, halting Xander's movement. "So. We know who got whose dream." Xander just nodded and stared at his feet. "Xander, you do realize I had *your* dream, right?" Xander shrugged again. "So do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm sorry. I --"

"Sorry about what? That you --"

"Oz, please? I don't want to talk about it." He pulled his arm free of Oz's grasp and resumed walking.

Sighing, Oz followed. The pair walked in silence for several minutes. Xander, of course, cursed himself inwardly for making Oz aware of a source of tension between the two of them. Xander thought he had been doing a great job of hiding it. He wasn't quite sure what Oz was thinking, but it couldn't be good. Finally, Oz broke the silence. "But I do. Want to talk about it. Now." They stopped in a secluded area, hidden from other passersby. He pointed to a low bench. "Sit." Xander obeyed, nervously watching Oz -- or, actually, just Oz's feet -- pace, completely unsure about what was about to happen. Oz stopped directly in front of Xander, hands buried in his pockets. "Look at me." Again, Xander did as instructed. "Do you really think it's fair?"

"No, it's not. It's wrong. And I know that. Why do you think I didn't say anything?"

Now Oz smiled. Xander's brain took a moment to register that this was a good thing. Or at least not a bad thing. "I guess we're not on the same wavelength here. Or, actually, we are, but we just don't realize it. At least you don't."

"Oz..." His words died when he realized what Oz was doing. Calmly, deliberately, Oz pulled off his jacket. Then his overshirt. Then his t-shirt. Xander blinked. Next, Oz slipped out of his shoes, socks, and pants. Xander closed his eyes and rubbed them vigorously. When he opened
them, he found Oz standing so close that Xander could feel the heat of Oz's body. Where his naked legs touched Xander's pants.

"I meant, do you really think it's fair to make me look at you and wish that we were thinking the same thing? Talk about a wasted wish."

And that was when Xander realized that the bench was at just the right height for him to calmly, deliberately insert his tongue in Oz's navel. And Oz discovered that Xander's hair really *was* as soft as it looked.


~~~ the end ~~~