Fuck, Marry, Kill with Miss French

Xander sat nervously as Miss French handed him a drink and they engaged in idle chatter. A million things were going through his mind, from the taste of ****, to how close she was, to what was about to happen.

"So, you hang around with a lot of girls, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess I do."

"So you must have had sex with them," she said bluntly.

"Right, of course, all the time, never stop," he stammered.

She smiled at him confidently, "Don't worry, you can be honest with me."

"Well, Willow's like a sister, Buffy and I...it was going to happen. Is going to happen. You know, just time. And Cordelia...well, the less said about her, the better."

"I see you have great...passionate. Why don't we get down to which of them you like the most. How about fuck, marry, kill?"

He paused, partly at her swearing, but it just also felt really weird for her to bring it up. "Why is everyone obsessed with that game suddenly?"

She simply smiled in response to his confusion. "Buffy, Willow, Cordelia and Amy - how would you divide them up?"

Xander paused for a few seconds to think, but he felt compelled to answer.