Eleven
Cyd had dolled him up – dressed him to the nines – and even put some eyeliner on him. Xander felt like a complete idiot. And despite the fact that his eyes really looked amazing, Xander was distinctly uncomfortable. Nor could he shake the fear that if he didn’t give in, Sweet would take him by force.
The only good news was what Cyd had told him – new arrivals in town. Convinced that at least Buffy had come for him, Xander was hoping she’d brought some backup. Her last revelation had rocked him. He’d never dreamed she’d been in heaven and he couldn’t imagine what she was going through. It explained so much, why she was reacting the was, how sad she always looked. Xander shook his head at his reflection. “I guess I should have insisted Willow search for her first. Why didn’t I do that?”
“Xander?”
Sweet’s voice startled him and he banged his head on the bathroom door in his haste to exit.
“Xander, come talk to me. There’s some things I need to show you.” Sweet stood just inside the door to his room, an indecipherable look on his features. Xander warily stepped further into the room.
“Not really sure I can trust you. Last time, I saw you, I was tied up and left knocked out.”
“True. And I’m only slightly sorry about that.” Sweet circled around him, whispering in his ear. “That option is still on the table, if you will. . . but for now I’ll just try it this way.”
Holding his body stiffly away, Xander didn’t move. “Why can’t we just forget the whole thing?”
“Because . . . I’m convinced if you get to know me, you’ll change your mind.” Sweet gabbed his wrist, ignoring Xander’s obvious flinch. “Come with me now, get to know me. See if you like my world. . .”
At the brunet’s skeptical look, Sweet smiled and said softly, “Take a chance on me, Xander.”
From out of nowhere, music swelled through the room and Sweet began singing. “If you change your mind, I'm the first in line. Honey I'm still free, take a chance on me.”
Backup singers danced through the doorway, bopping and humming to the tune Sweet was belting out. “If you need me, let me know, gonna be around. If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down. If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown, honey I'm still free, take a chance on me.”
Ohkay. . . Abba. I’ve completely lost my mind. Sweet is singing Abba. . . “What the hell?” Xander’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened considerably. This is so wrong. Last night he had me tied up in some S&M nightmare and now he’s singing Abba?
“Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie. If you put me to the test, if you let me try. Take a chance on me.” The back-up dancers swung and swayed to the beat, their voices blending beautifully with Sweet’s. And though Xander blinked and shook his head, the singing and dancing continued. “That’s all I ask honey.”
Honey? He’s calling me honey? Xander lifted his eyes to the ceiling, hoping for some divine intervention. Okay guys, really, it’s time to rescue me now.
“We can go dancing, we can go walking, as long as we’re together. Listen to some music, maybe just talking, get to know you better. ‘Coz you know I’ve got – so much that I wanna do when I dream I’m alone with you. It’s magic.”
“No. No magic. Not magic at all.” He couldn’t help the babbling, this serenade was just too much for him to handle. Xander backed away from the scene before him, hands raised as if to ward off a blow.
Sweet just shook his head and kept singing. “You want me to leave it there, afraid of a love affair, but I think you know. . . that I can’t let go.”
“Love? Who said anything about love? There’s no love. No affair.” The brunet breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the wall at his back, though he knew it was only a momentary reprieve. I really need to be rescued, like now.
Xander sidled along the wall, one hand behind his back, searching for the door to the bathroom. He had to escape this – if only for a little while, until the Scoobies came to rescue him. He could hold out a little longer, because he knew – just knew – they were coming.
Knowing that though, didn’t stop the scene in front of him. Xander knew he was going to have nightmares about this for months. . . if not years.
“If you change your mind, I’m the first in line. Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me. If you need me, let me know, gonna be around, if you’ve got no place to go, if you’re feeling down. If you’re all alone when the pretty birds have flown, honey, I’m still free. . . take a chance on me.”
Finally! His hand closed around the doorknob and Xander smiled, shook his head nervously, and slipped inside the door as Sweet sang. “Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie, if you put me to the test, if you let me try.”
Xander locked the door behind him and slumped down to the floor. “Great googlie mooglie. That was beyond disturbing.”
Banging his head against the door, he tried his best to ignore the singing and music in the other room. “I really gotta get outta this place.”
Buffy fled the moment she thought Spike had fallen back to sleep. Embarrassed did not begin to describe how she felt after pouring out her deepest secret to the vampire. She couldn’t face him. Or herself. How can I even look at him again? Slutty Buffy comes out to play and he’s never, ever, ever going to let me live that down.
Passing the rooms that had been commandeered by her traveling companions, Buffy searched for the one containing her sister. Maybe he’ll forget. . . maybe he’ll think he was hallucinating. If I never mention it, or pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about, I’ll be able to convince him he was just dreaming.
Right, Buffy, coz that’s gonna work. Spike will really believe that. Sighing deeply, Buffy opened the door in front of her. Dawn was sleeping, curled up in another cot, not all that far from where she’d left Spike. It was dark out, early morning still hours away and Buffy decided her sister had the right idea. Looking about for another blanket, she jumped when her sister’s grumpy voice sounded in the otherwise quiet room.
“Geez, Buffy, way to be stealthy.”
“Sorry.” She straightened up, glaring at the younger teen. “Go back to sleep.”
“How’s Spike?”
A sigh rumbled from the Slayer. “Doing better.”
Dawn raised herself up on her elbow. “You’re not just saying that to get me to shut up, are you?”
“No.” Finallly locating a blanket, Buffy sat down on the cot next to her sister. “His burns aren’t as bad. And I just gave him some more blood. He’ll be fine by daylight.”
Her sister flopped back down. “Good.”
“Why do you care?” There was a hint of anger in Buffy’s voice, which had Dawn sitting up once more.
“He spent more time with me over . . . while you were gone. More than anyone – even Tara.” Dawn’s face took on a mulish cast. “He’s really not a bad guy, Buffy.”
“Dawn, he’s a vamp.” She looked away from her sister’s gaze, looking at a spot over her shoulder. “And I hate him.”
A low thumping beat filled the darkness and Buffy sighed, trying to force away the song that was brewing and yet knowing it was futile. At least this song wasn’t one that would haunt her quietest moments. “Tests my patience, every day.”
“He’s a vamp and I loathe him. And I only hope he’ll stay far away.” The beat was getting to her and all she could think about was getting to her feet and swaying, like the cat had done in the movie. Doing everything in her power to resist the urge, Buffy hugged her knees to her chest. “He’s a vamp, he’s a scoundrel, he’s a killer. . . he’s a cad.”
Shaking her head emphatically, she sang, “He’s a vamp, but I hate him.”
At the incredulous look on her sister’s face, Buffy squirmed and looked away. “Damn now, even I have got it pretty bad.” She glanced quickly at the door, then sang, “You can never tell, when he’ll show up. He gives me plenty of trouble. . . I guess that he’s just built that way.”
Dawn got up and sat beside her, staring closely at the look on Buffy’s face. A small grin flitted across her features and Dawn raised an eyebrow at Buffy’s next words. “But I wish that I could burst his bubble. . . he’s a vamp. . . he’s a killer. . .”
Buffy put her head down, avoiding Dawn’s gaze. “And there’s nothing more to say. . . he’s a vamp. He’s a good one. . . and I wish that I could stay away.”
How her sister could convey sarcastic amusement in a snicker, Buffy couldn’t begin to guess; but she managed. Before she could give her a verbal hard time, Buffy whispered into her folded arms, “No questions, please? Please, Dawnie, just let it go and . . .”
She couldn’t finish her request, partially because the words were stuck in her throat, and partially because Dawn had just pulled her close and hugged her.
They stayed that way for a long time.
Anya couldn’t sleep, her worry over Xander keeping her mind active even knowing her body needed the rest. She knew – intimately – how demons found and treated concubines. While somewhat similar to human rituals, the differences were much more profound. And quite often painful.
Most demons embraced physical pain as part of their mating rituals while humans as a whole did not. Anya didn’t doubt for a minute that Sweet would hesitate from torturing Xander if he resisted. And knowing Xander, he would resist. He’d been under Sweet’s control for almost three full days now. There was no telling what had been done to Xander. Anya hugged her arms tighter and stared up at the cloud covered moon.
“I feel so lost and alone. So on my own.” The words slipped easily from her lips, her gaze blindly looking out into the night. “Sometimes I walk alone at night, when everybody else is sleeping. I think of him and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping. Everyone goes to bed, and I can live inside my head.”
She pulled aside the curtain, then leaned against the wall. “On my own, pretending he's beside me. All alone, I walk with him 'til morning. Without him, I feel his arms around me and when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me.”
“In the rain, the pavement shines like silver, all the lights are misty in the river. In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight and all I see is him and me forever and forever. . . And I know it's only in my mind, that I'm talking to myself and not to him. And although I know that he is blind, still I say, there's a way for us.” Anya knew, deep in her heart that she and Xander were having problems, that their relationship was rocky, but still she had hope that they would be able to work through it all. “I love him, but when the night is over, he is gone. The river's just a river, without him. The world around me changes! The trees are bare and everywhere; the nights are full of dangers...”
A deep wave of despair filled her and Anya gave into it. “I love him, but every day I'm learning.
All my life, I've only been pretending. Without me, his world would go on turning. A world that's full of happiness that I have never known.”
Her voice trailed off and the tears streamed down her cheeks, “I love him . . . I love him . . . I love him . . . but only on my own.”
As her last note faded into the darkness, Anya fought back the tears. A soft sigh sounded in the air and she whirled around, hastily scrubbing away the evidence. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, Anya. I know this is hard for you.” Buffy’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “We’ll get him back.”
The former demon critically eyed the Slayer. “You don’t look so good. Are you sure you can do this?”
Buffy stared at a spot over Anya’s shoulder. “It’s what I do.” A small shrug shook her figure. She repeated herself. “It’s what I do.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.” The tone in Anya’s voice broke through Buffy’s detachment.
“I –“ She paused, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. “I don’t really know. I don’t think it’ll be all that hard. Sweet isn’t really about fighting.”
“True.” Anya concluded the point, “But he’s still a demon. And we’re in his home dimension.”
“Yeah.” Buffy looked away.
When she didn’t elaborate any further, Anya slumped back against the walls. “Willow can handle it. She’s got lots of power.”
Anya looked back to see if Buffy had heard her, only to find the Slayer had disappeared.
“Drat. Xander is so screwed.”
He got very little rest after Buffy left him. Her actions and the song she’d sung boggled him. Never in his life had he expected anything like that from her. Despite her relationship with Riley, Buffy rarely let her emotions show, barely let anyone inside her inner circle, especially potential suitors. She had a much easier time with friendship. He supposed much of that had to do with the circumstances of her relationship with Angel, but Spike sensed it went deeper than that. Something else had shattered her trust, although Spike had a good idea what might have happened. His conversations with Joyce had given him some insight and he knew Buffy had been close to her father, until he’d abandoned all the Summers girls. He never could understand how any man could willingly leave his loved ones. Perhaps it was his upbringing – his father had instilled very strong values before his death. Honor, faith, and loyalty were all drilled into him from an early age – and reinforced by his father at every opportunity. It was beyond his comprehension why men like Buffy’s father and Angel left when life got complicated.
Spike got up from the cot he’d been resting on and padded on silent feet to the case holding the blood. Still replaying the moment with Buffy, Spike downed another two bottles. There was a slightly tangy flavor, it was human blood, but it was tinged with something else. It was almost Slayer blood, but not quite. It packed enough of a punch for him to already be up and about; and for the burns on his hands to heal.
Bored with sitting alone by himself, Spike wandered through the hallways of the old school. It reminded him of home – the classrooms in classic lecture hall setup and dormitories in an upper wing. He could hear the differing heart beats, knowing that the two Wiccans were bunking together, while Giles snored heavily in a room by himself. Surprisingly, Anya was sharing a room with Dawn. He bypassed them all, his nose leading him to the room Buffy was occupying.
He hesitated just outside her door and caught himself softly singing . . . “Cause I want nothing more to sit outside your door and listen to you breathing.”
Shaking his head wryly, Spike pushed open the door and crept inside. Buffy was on the bed closest to the door, facing it. Spike watched her for a moment or two, his voice soft and soothing in the otherwise quiet room. “I'm finding my way back to sanity again, though I don't really know what I'm going to do when I get there. . . Take a breath and hold on tight, spin around one more time and gracefully fall back to the arms of Grace.”
There had been many nights since her return that he’d wanted to say these words, but had hesitated. Now that he had something of a captive audience, he let the words flow easily. “I am hanging on every word you say and even if you don't want to speak tonight, that's alright, alright with me. 'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside heaven's door and listen to you breathing. It’s where I want to be.”
“I'm looking past the shadows of my mind into the truth and I'm trying to identify the voices in my head.” She shifted and his voice dropped to a bear whisper, “God, which one's you? Let me feel one more time, what it feels like to feel and break these calluses off of me, one more time.”
Spike reached out to touch her, then hesitated, instead just ghosting it over her skin. “'Cause I am hanging on every word you say and even if you don't want to speak tonight, that's alright, alright with me. 'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside your door and listen to you breathing, it’s where I want to be.” He recognized himself in the next words, allowing an almost wistful smile to cross his features. “I don't want a thing from you. Bet you're tired of me waiting for the scraps to fall off of your table to the ground. I just want to be here now.”
The chorus rang through the room, his deep voice reverberating off the walls. “ 'Cause I am hanging on every word you say and even if you don't want to speak tonight, that's alright, alright with me. 'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside heaven's door and listen to you breathing, it’s where I want to be.”
The words eventually petered out, and all that he was left with were the echoes of his own voice and a sleeping Buffy.
Spike figured that was as close to heaven as he’d ever get.
Liner Notes:
Take a Chance on Me: lyrics and music by Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus; released in January of 1978, reaching #1 on the UK Charts. Has the distinction of being the last #1 for ABBA in the 1970s (thank the heavens) and was covered by Erasure in the 1990s.
He’s a Tramp: original music and lyrics by Peggy Lee and Sonny Burke, from the Disney film Lady and the Tramp, released to theaters on 22 June 1955(this version has seriously reworked lyrics, my apologies to everyone). Sung by Peggy Lee in the soundtrack, no doubt covered by numerous artists.
On My Own: from the play Les Miserables. Music by Claude-Michel Schönberg, original French lyrics by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel, with an English-language libretto by Herbert Kretzmer. It was not in the original French version, but was added later on. Debuted by Marianne Mille, sung by Lea Salonga and various others in numerous productions, including Samantha Barks in the film version.
Breathing: recorded by Lifehouse, music and lyrics by Jason Wade. Released November 5, 2001, on the album No Name Face released in June of 2000.