Eight
Ignoring both Giles and the tension in the air, Willow breezed into the kitchen, her arms laden with foodstuffs from the baker. Turnovers, cakes, breads, and some stuff she couldn’t readily identify – but looked deliciously edible – had been obtained. She couldn’t wait to dig in. Not realizing she was still humming, Willow opened the bags and boxes, arranging things nicely on display. The brightness of her mood, and the tune, was slowly replacing the anger Giles was projecting and he unconsciously began to hum along with her.
Only when Anya arrived on the scene, her stomach growling loudly, did either of them realize they were humming the tune from Beauty and the Beast. . . “Stop humming! I’d rather you both sing than that weird mmmmming coming from your closed mouths. It’s not natural.”
Anya looked from one to the other, her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping rapidly on the linoleum. “I really want to get Xander back. Have you discovered anything useful or have you just been humming away?”
Having at least the grace to blush, Willow nodded her head. “I talked to the baker.”
“Before or after he taught you to hum?” Anya didn’t bother hiding the anger simmering alongside the hunger. Rolling her eyes in response to Willow’s somewhat wounded exclamation of “Hey!”
The former demon waved away her excuse. “Just explain.”
“See if I get any more information for you.” Willow grumbled. At Giles’ look of disgust over their unnecessary bickering, the redhead continued. “He told me exactly where we are, and where Sweet’s club is.”
“And?” When it appeared Willow was stalling, Anya prompted her again. “So where are we?”
“We’re down by the water. The club is all the way uptown.” Before she could continue, Anya interrupted again.
“This – this is good news, right?”
Picking at the loaf of bread on the table, Willow shook her head. “I’m not sure. It looks like from the map we could be there later today. But, I’m not sure that we should trust the map.”
While the two girls were talking, Giles had gotten up from the table. He was looking through cupboards and the refrigerator, searching for something to supplement all the breadstuffs Willow had purchased. “Oh, look! Jam.” He shifted items around in the refrigerator, searching out more items. “Marmalade. I haven’t had any of this in quite a while.”
Both women shot him dirty looks, which Giles shrugged off. “It’s exceptionally good jam.” He licked his finger and smiled. The smile wavered, then he sighed. “Very well, continue.”
“I just think we should be really cautious. We don’t know what kind of place this is. What if someone starts dancing and then they burn up?”
Giles considered this. “Valid point. We should be cautious until we know exactly what to expect.”
Willow rolled her eyes and Anya huffed out her aggravation. “Giles, you’re restating the obvious. How about you come up with something new – and not about marmalade. Or some other jam-like substance.”
It was Giles’ turn to look aggravated. “Really, Anya, just because I’m commenting on the quality of the foodstuffs is no reason to be so irritable.”
“I want Xander back. I want him back and all you’re doing is . . . is stalling.” She gazed at two people sitting around the kitchen table and sighed. “Why aren’t you more concerned? My Xander is out there, all lost and alone and I’m sure he’s frightened and wants to be rescued. So why aren’t we rescuing him? Why?”
Neither of them had an answer – but then Anya clearly wasn’t listening to either of them anyway. She was already humming something, waiting for the right moment. And just as Willow opened her mouth to respond, Anya began singing.
“Gods on high – hear my prayer, in my need. . . You have always been there.” She clutched her hands together, just over her heart, and tears began to glisten in her eyes. “He is young – he is afraid. Let him rest, D’Hoffryn blessed.”
Giles and Willow exchanged a glance, worried about Anya’s overwrought emotions. “Bring him home, bring him home. . . Bring him home.”
She was about to starting singing, her mouth open and arms stretched wide, when Dawn barreled into the room. “What’s going on?”
Tara, who was following closely on her heels, looked from the two sitting at the table to Anya and shook her head. “M-m-more singing? What’s. . . what’s she singing about?”
Willow smiled brightly at her girlfriend. “About bringing Xander home.”
“Brilliant. More caterwaulin’. ‘S enough to make vamp search out earplugs.” Spike leaned against the door leading to the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk playing about his lips. When he caught the pout forming on Anya’s face, he hastened to add, “At least we know this one can sing.” At her smile, he shook his head, waved a hand in her general direction, saying, “Carry on, pet. Damage’s already done.”
“No. I’ve lost the mood.” Anya slumped into a chair next to Giles and grabbed the orange marmalade from his hand. “You did say this was good, right?”
“Is the serenading done for now?” Buffy’s voice emerged from behind Spike, and he turned sideways to let her pass. “Coz if we’re done, we could maybe get some answers and get home? Do we have any answers?”
While she appeared to be a bit more animated than earlier, it wasn’t hard for any of them to still see and hear the strained apathy in the Slayer’s voice and posture.
Though it was Willow who currently had the most information, it was Giles who answered Buffy’s question. “Well, yes – we do. Willow does, at any rate.” Motioning with the spoonful of jam, Giles ceded the conversation to the redhead.
“I talked to the baker and he told me we’re down by the docks and that Sweet’s club is further inland, what they call ‘uptown’. From what I can tell, it’s a couple of miles away.” She looked down at the map, scrunching her nose in confusion. “Uh. Maybe it’s not ‘uptown’.
“I don’t really care what they call it. How do we get there?” Buffy leaned against the wall, her eyes sweeping over the kitchen’s occupants.
“I presume we can walk the distance.” Giles stated the obvious. “That isn’t very far, and we’ve no other means of transportation. It shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
Anya perked up with that announcement. “Great! We can leave now!”
“Forgetting something, pet? Sun’s out.” Spike angled his head to peek out through the curtains. “Yours truly can’t be traipsin’ about until later.”
Before any of the others could voice what was advice about him staying behind, Buffy nixed that. “We’ll wait. We have no idea what kind of demons we’re going to face along the way, much less what’s in store once we get to Sweet’s.”
“More delays? My poor heart can’t handle this!” Anya slapped a hand down on the table, making the breads and pastries jump. “Can’t we just scout things out? Maybe do a dry run or something?”
“A dry run for what? Walking?” Buffy shook her head. “No. We wait.”
She didn’t wait for anymore objections, instead leaving the room before anyone else could complain or comment. “Maybe you could work on figuring out how to get home once we get Xander back.”
She was sitting in the dark, the blinds drawn down and there was no light to illuminate the room, but Spike saw her clearly just the same. “Can’t blame them for bein’ dense.”
Buffy only glanced at him, her eyes betraying nothing of her thoughts. “Imagine it’s hard for them to understand. Had a problem myself, wrappin’ my head around it, an’ ‘ve had a bit more time to deal with it.”
“Deal with what?”
“Your revelation.” He moved further into the room, closing the door softly behind him. “Where they pulled you from.”
“Oh.” What could she say to that? Their reactions had been the primary reason she’d kept her mouth shut; kept the terrible truth to herself. She’d expected the tears and sadness, but now, this moment, it seemed like everyone but the two of them had forgotten. Buffy looked away from Spike, finding a spot on the wall that looked interesting.
“Guess they don’t know what to say. How to react.” He shrugged, then leaned against the dresser, fiddling with the doily covering the top.
Before she could stop them, words came tumbling out. “So they just forget? Sweep it under the rug? Pretend that they don’t know what they know? How can they do that? How can they just expect me to go on?”
In the face of her revelation, the Scoobies should have reacted differently, at least in his mind. But he’d been around long enough to know that no one ever did as they were expected, especially among this bunch. Rupert was walking around with a thunder cloud the size of Texas, anger and grief rolling in waves from him; while Willow, who should’ve been at the least contrite, wasn’t reacting at all. “‘S hard to gauge how someone’s goin’ to react to somethin’ like this. Can’t always tell which way a cat’s jumpin’.”
“Huh?” Buffy looked at him, confusion wreathing her features. “So we just pretend it didn’t happen until they get used to the idea?”
“No, sweets. We,” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to buy time to gather his thoughts, “you don’t pretend anythin’. You let ‘em know you’re tired. Or sad. Or outta sorts in any way. Don’t let ‘em push you into anythin’ you don’t wan’ to do. Like just now.”
He knelt down, looking up at her. “What you did jus’ now, tellin’ Anya she’s gotta wait to get the whelp back. An’ that the rest of ‘em need to focus on gettin’ home once we’ve got him back. That’s how you do it. If you’re not ready for anythin’, tell the whole lot to back off. They’ll get the message.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Buffy leaned forward, her arms resting on her legs. “I’m so tired.”
“Then sleep, sweetheart.” Spike pushed her gently, then watched with a wry grin as she let herself drop onto the bed. “Go ahead. Close your eyes.”
She protested a bit. “I should really get up and do something.”
“What? Pace about like a bored tiger? Roam the flat, looking for something to hit? Let your temper build until you can’t help but snappin’ at everyone?” Spike grabbed the throw blanket from the foot of the bed. “Don’ waste your time, love.”
She grabbed the blanket as he draped it over her, listening to him sing softly. “Try not to get worried, try not to turn on to problems that upset you, oh. Don't you know everything's alright, yes, everything's fine. And I want you to sleep well right now. Let the world turn without you for now.
If they try, they'll get by, so forget all about it right now.”
Her smile finally reached her eyes and Buffy settled back into the pillows and listened to him.
“Sleep and I shall sing to you, calm you and watch o’er you. M’hands on your hot forehead, then you'll feel, everything's alright, yes, everything's fine. I’m cool and the sleep is sweet, for the fire in your head and feet. Close your eyes, close your eyes, and relax, think of nothing for now.”
He let the tune drift off, though he kept humming, waiting until her breathing changed and the lines bracketing her mouth eased. Girl needs her peace, an’ these children are doin’ nothing but stealin’ it from her. A sigh broke from him and he brushed his hand over her forehead, still humming. If I can give her a moment’s peace, then this is all worth it.
“There’s no need for you to be so snippy with everyone.” Anya looked at Willow, her eyes narrowed. “You’re a bit nasty.”
“Nasty? I’m not nasty.” Willow threw down the roll she was shredding, her own eyes trained on the ex-demon. “You’re the one who’s nasty and cranky.”
“I want Xander back! I’m allowed to worry about him! He’s my boyfriend!” Anya paced further into the kitchen, while she wrung her hands.
Willow muttered something under her breath, and Anya whirled to confront her. “What did you say?”
“I said, he’s my oldest, bestest friend, I have just as much right as you to worry about him.” The redhead glared at the other girl. “Maybe even more right than you do.”
“No. You don’t. He’s my boyfriend. You have your own girlfriend. You don’t need to worry about mine.” Anya balled her fists at her sides.
“Yeah, remind me to tell him what a stellar choice he made.” A cruel smile twitched about Willow’s pursed lips and Anya gasped.
“See, that’s what I mean. You’re not nice to me.”
“What is this feeling, so sudden and new? I felt the moment I laid eyes on you.” Willow half-talked, half-sung the words. “My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling, my face is flushing.”
They all shared a look, watching as Willow got to her feet. “What is this feeling? Fervid as a flame, does it have a name?”
An evil grin crossed her features. “Yes! Loathing! Unadulterated loathing!”
She pointed at Anya, “For your face, your voice, your clothing!”
Willow was practically running the words together, almost shouting them, instead of singing. “Let’s just say – I loathe it all! Ev’ry little trait, however small, makes my very flesh begin to crawl, with simple utter loathing!”
Pointing her finger at Anya, Willow kept on with her sing-song shouting. “There’s a strange exhilaration, in such total detestation. It’s so pure, so strong! Though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last, and I will be loathing, loathing you – My whole life long!”
Dawn caught the tears that Anya was trying desperately to hide, and felt like she had to stick up for the poor girl. Her voice laden with sarcasm, she sang, “Dear Willow, you are just too good. How do you stand it? I don’t think I could! She’s a terror, she’s a Tartar! I don’t mean to show a bias, but Willow, you’re a martyr!”
Misunderstanding her completely, Willow shook her head in agreement. “Well, these things are sent to try us!”
“Poor Willow, forced to reside with someone so disgusticified! I just want to tell you, I’m on your side!” Dawn practically sneered the words, her eyes on the redhead.
Once again, Willow launched into what seemed to be the theme, “What is this feeling, so sudden and new? I felt the moment I laid eyes on you. My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling. Oh, what is this feeling? Does it have a name? Yes. . . ah. . . LOATHING!”
Dawn interrupted her, singing, “Loathing, unadulterated loathing, for her face, her voice, her clothing. Let’s just say, you loathe it all! Ev’ry little trait however small, makes your very flesh begin to crawl. . .”
While Willow kept singing about her loathing, Dawn reached Anya’s side and hugged her closely. She could feel the tears the ex-demon was suppressing and it angered her, that Willow could just keep on, without any care at all for the other girl’s feelings.
“There’s a strange exhilaration, in such total detestation. It’s so pure, so strong! Though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last, and I will be loathing, for forever loathing, truly deeply loathing you, my whole life long!”
Willow paused, waiting while Anya stared at her. With a wicked, nasty smile Willow leaned forward into Anya’s space and yelled, “BOOO!”
Anya finally burst into tears and fled the kitchen, heading for the far bedroom.
Tara, finally sprung from her incredulity at Willow’s behavior and thoughts, snapped at her girlfriend. “That was really mean, Willow.”
“Yeah, really.” Dawn stepped up beside Tara, her face set. “You keep hurting everyone around you, Willow. Pretty soon you’ll be hanging out with Voldemort.” The teen snorted a bit. “Maybe we should just call you Bellatrix.”
“Willow, you should apologize to Anya.” Giles had his glasses off, watching the red-headed witch carefully. “She deserves one after what you just said to her.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Willow shrugged them all off, heading to the living room.
It was Tara’s voice that forestalled her retreat. “Willow. She didn’t deserve that at all. Go apologize.”
Liner Notes:
Bring Him Home: from the musical Les Miserables, music by Claude Michel Schonberg, and the lyrics were written by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel, with an English-language libretto by Herbert Kretzmer. First sung by Maurice Barrier (in the original French production) and then by Colm Wilkinson on the West End and Broadway; sung by many performers in various productions worldwide.
Everything’s Alright: from the musical Jesus Christ Superstar, music and lyrics by Andrew Lloyd Weber and Tim Rice. Debuted on Broadway in 1971 by Yvonne Elliman, sung in various productions since then by many performers worldwide.
What Is This Feeling?: from the musical Wicked, music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz. Debuted in May of 2003 on Broadway by Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth (the song is actually a duet), sung in various productions by many performers worldwide.