Five
“Aren’t you tired?” Dawn watched as Anya nervously flittered about the living room and kitchen of the apartment. The former demon was making her dizzy with all the up and down and pacing and Dawn was having enough trouble keeping her eyes opened.
“No, not really. I can’t stop thinking about Xander and what he might be going through. This is all so very stressful.” Anya straightened out the kitchen tablecloth, which didn’t need it; then she moved over to the cabinets, checking the contents. “I don’t like feeling this much worry.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. I don’t think Sweet would do anything to hurt him.” Dawn leaned her chin on her hand, pursing her lips. “Do you?”
“No, he wouldn’t hurt him.” She turned around, leaning against the counter, a distracted look in her eyes. “At least not the way you mean. But Sweet is a demon. . . and demons think differently than humans about what hurts and what doesn’t.”
The teenager was quiet for a minute, contemplating what Anya meant. Despite Buffy’s desire to keep her innocent and uninformed about, well, just about everything, Dawn knew better. She was a teenager, after all, and information about everything was available on the internet. Plus, living on the hellmouth and knowing a notorious vampire up close and personally? Dawn had an inside track on a lot of things. Spending time with Anya over the summer had enlightened her to all sorts of stuff.
“So what you’re saying is, you think Sweet might, ah, do things to him.” While Dawn knew she could be open with Anya, sometimes she had trouble voicing her thoughts.
“He might.” A deep sigh rattled through her. “I just don’t want anyone giving Xander orgasms but me. He’s mine.”
“You really love him,” Dawn marveled, noting the soft smile gracing the other girl’s face. “Really, really.”
“I do.”
It took a minute, but they both realized at the same time that Anya was humming again. Before she could stop herself, a melody tumbled forward. “Fish got to swim, birds got to fly, I got to love one man till I die. Can't help lovin' that man of mine.”
Anya swayed a little, listening to the music swell inside her head. “Tell me he's lazy, tell me he's slow, tell me I'm crazy, maybe I know. Can't help lovin' that man of mine.”
The song was plaintive, Anya’s emotions clear and for some reason Dawn felt tears coming to her eyes. She thought about Anya and Xander, but she also was thinking about her sister and Spike. Buffy could deny up down and sideways, but Dawn knew something was going on between them. She wondered, if someday, Buffy would admit it. Spike deserved to know. Dawn listened as Anya kept singing.
“Oh, listen sister, I love my mister-man, and I can't tell you' why. There ain't no reason, why I should love that man, it mus' be somethin’ that the angels done plan.”
Despair seemed to fill Anya, and she dropped her head, barely holding back the tears. “Now he’s gone away, it’s such a rainy day. But when he comes back that day will be fine, oh, how the sun will shine!”
She walked a little bit away, hugging herself. “He can come home however bad it might be, home without him ain't no home to me. Can't help lovin' that man of mine.”
Once more she sang the familiar words, “Fish got to swim, birds got to fly, I got to love one man till I die. Can't help lovin' that man of mine,” her voice dropping until it was nothing more than a teary whisper. “Can’t help lovin’ that man of mine.”
Moved to sympathy for the usually brusque and up-beat woman, Dawn got up from her seat and enfolded her in a hug. “We’ll get him back. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope you’re right, Dawn. I really do.”
Xander woke up, his head throbbing and pain radiating from several areas. He was back in the room above the club, the strange blue-skinned demon sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him.
“You do know that was an incredibly stupid thing to do.”
“Don’t start, I’m seriously aching here.” He groaned and rolled over, burying his head under the pillows and pulling the blankets up around him. “Go away and leave me the hell alone.”
The demon clucked its tongue, continuing without a breath, “You know very well I can’t do that. I’m your bodyguard.”
A deep groan emerged from the pile of bedding. “I don’t need a bodyguard. I need to go home.”
“Can’t do that either. You’re the current flavor.” The voice receded, then sounded right above Xander’s ear. “Until he loses interest and finds something more attractive, you’re it, baby.”
“No, I really don’t wanna hear this. Leave me alone. If you can’t let me go,” Xander tried bargaining, “at least let me sleep some more, so I can pretend I’m not really here.”
“Fine. It’s not going to change anything, just so you know.”
Xander peaked out, risking a glance at the demon. “Do you have a name?”
“Of course I do. What kind of question is that?” The demon stood up, crossing its arms over its still visible breasts. “My name is Cyd.”
“Cyd? Would you mind leaving me alone, so I can pretend I’m not here?” Xander rolled over, childishly hiding from the demon. He really hadn’t wanted to know the demon’s name, but it was rude, even for him to say ‘hey you’ all the time.
“You really need to grow up.”
On that parting note, Cyd flounced from the room, its skin glowing darkly.
Tara stared blankly at the wall, unable to sleep or even close her eyes. Willow wasn’t so affected; she was snoring softly, her body pressed up against Tara’s, her arm thrown around her waist. Hundreds of thoughts, mostly regrets coupled with guilt, had been circling in her head since Buffy’s revelation two nights ago. Tara couldn’t believe what they’d done.
They’d managed the almost-impossible, pulling Buffy out of heaven and restoring her to life. Only Tara wasn’t so sure what kind of life they’d brought her back to. So much of Buffy’s behavior and mood was explained by the revelation, and Tara could feel it darkening all the time. Buffy was severely depressed and every time Tara looked at her, she was assailed by more guilt.
We did something really bad, something wrong.
As horrible it was to admit to herself, Tara wondered if things might not be any better if Buffy had been in some hell dimension. What also compounded her guilt was the outward indifference of Willow. Initially, her girlfriend had shed tears for Buffy, concerned for her, but that quickly faded. Willow wasn’t really sorry.
If Willow wasn’t sorry about pulling Buffy from heaven – what did that say about the kind of person her girlfriend was? What did that say about her?
Deciding she’d tried long enough and wanting to escape the close confines, Tara slid from beneath the covers. Without sparing a glance at Willow, she tiptoed out of the room and down the hallway, toward the kitchen. She could hear Dawn and Anya chatting, so she veered for the door, wanting to avoid them and headed instead for the roof.
Xander didn’t sleep long; he couldn’t. His brain wouldn’t let him. His fear wouldn’t.
He sat on the bed, surrounded by the softest sheets he’d ever felt, contemplating his situation. There has to be some way out of this place, some way to get back home. I hope they’re looking for me. I can’t stay here. I can’t.
He was saved from further musings by the re-appearance of Cyd, who was followed by two other demons. “Hurry up and get dressed, Sweet’s on his way.”
“What? No. No.” Xander waved his hands, shooing away the demons, who were trying to pull him from the bed. When that didn’t work, they pulled the sheets and blankets off him. “Stop! This isn’t good for my nerves!”
Cyd looked at him skeptically. “Oh, please, panicking is not going to work.”
Without really caring, Xander jumped up on the bed, bouncing on the mattress, jumping to get away from the grasping demonic hands. He hopped up, a song escaping from him. “This shakes my nerves and rattles my brain! This kinda love would drive a man insane! Won’t break my will! This ain’t no thrill! Goodness gracious great balls of fire!”
One of the demons managed to grab his ankle and Xander twisted and shimmied, breaking its hold on him. He leaned forward, almost falling off the bed, shaking his finger at Cyd. “I learned to love Anya and her money. She came along and she called me honey. I changed my mind, she’s just so fine. Goodness gracious great balls of fire!”
Cyd started laughing as the panic showed clearly on Xander’s face. The distraction was enough for both demons to tackle Xander and pin him to the bed. He immediately began squirming and fighting back, clipping one demon on the jaw and kicking the other in the chest. “Don’t kiss me, dude! Whooo nooo! That’s not good! Free me baby, learn to live without me like I know you could! Hear me whine – all the time! I’m so nervous I’m gonna lose my mind. . . mind. . . mind!”
The three demons were chasing Xander around the room, trying to block him from escaping either into the bathroom or out into the hallway, while Xander evaded them by bowling them over or slipping from their grasps, singing the whole time. “I’ll bite my nails and I quiver my knees. I'm really nervous and this ain’t fun.”
Xander grabbed Cyd, singing directly to him. “Come on Cyn, don’t drive me crazy! Goodness gracious great balls of fire!”
Instead of helping, Cyd tried to manhandle Xander into the grasp of the other two demons, with Xander breaking free. He ran away screaming at the top of his lungs for the first hiding place he could find. Xander reached the door next to the bathroom, then slammed the heavy wooden door behind him, groaning when he realized where he’d hidden.
The closet.
Liner Notes:
Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man, music by Jerome Kern, lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II, from the musical Show Boat (1927). First sung by blues singer Helen Morgan (who appeared in stage productions in 1927, 1932, and in the first film production of 1936; also sung by (among others) Lena Horne, Barbra Streisand, Ella Fitzgerald, Lonette McKee, and Charlotte Church. This song is considered controversial, as is much of the story behind Show Boat, and had not the studios of the 1950s been afraid of casting and racism, Lena Horne would’ve played Julie instead of Ava Gardner in the 1951 remake.
Great Balls of Fire, music and lyrics by Otis Blackwell and Jack Hammer. Made famous by Jerry Lee Lewis in 1957; has been covered by everyone from Tiny Tim to Fleetwood Mac to Dolly Parton and the Electric Light Orchestra, and generally any band that’s ever played rock-a-billy or anything from the 1950s.
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