Buffy swept and dusted the hell out of the room for an hour while the witch stayed behind the closed door. She tried coming up with a strategy as she worked. Spike still wouldn't speak to her -- who knew Vamps could be so damn touchy! Unfortunately, the physical activity was making her hungrier. She'd been warned about eating any of the food meant for Spike, so what was she supposed to eat?
Each of them made futile attempts to pull their chains out of the wall, and tried slipping the shackles down over their ankles. But all they succeeded in doing was tiring themselves out and chaffing their legs; it appeared that only breaking a bone or two in their feet would allow them to slide the shackles off, and they weren't prepared to do anything that drastic... yet.
Buffy came up with a few different plans of attack on the witch. All would probably result in her feeling that horrific pain again, but she wasn't going to just submit to being anybody's slave, not without throwing everything she had at her would-be captor.
She sat back down on her blanket, wiping sweat from her brow, and looked at Spike. He was staring straight ahead at nothing, just robotically feeding bits of pastry and candy to himself.
"You still not talking to me?" Buffy asked. "You realize that we should have been using the time alone to come up with a plan, right?"
Spike swallowed a mouthful of food. "Why would you tell me about any plan? Aren't you worried I'll tattle on you, since I'm pure evil an' all?"
"I'm sorry, okay? Geez!" Buffy groaned and sighed.
He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Did you just apologize to me?"
Buffy thought about giving him a snarky answer, but she just wanted the arguing and grumpiness to end. "Yes. Here, I'll do it again: I'm sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusion. I... was wrong... apparently."
Spike raised both eyebrows, not knowing what to say at first. He couldn't believe that the Slayer actually said the words 'I'm sorry' and meant them. He cleared his throat, then said, "Have you come up with any ideas on what we could try? I've been brainstormin' too, can't say I came up with anything more radical than just takin' some big swings at her though."
Buffy was relieved that her sincere apology seemed to appease Spike; they could move past it now. "Yeah, my plans pretty much consist of just beating on her with fists or objects like the broom." She gripped the handle of the broom tighter for a second, picturing herself using it like a fighting staff. "Not very convoluted... but I think that all one of us needs is one good shot at her." Buffy went over and knelt down near him so they could talk quietly.
Spike looked at her uneasily, "You won't have a problem doin’ her in if she looks like our Willow -- your Willow -- at the time?"
"I really don't want to have to kill her..."
"Then I'll do it. I'll do it with the biggest bloody grin that you've ever seen."
"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't be bothered with her looking like Willow, she doesn't mean anything to you."
"Well... I wouldn't go that far. True, she's not my bestie, or even what most would consider a friend, but I'm... fond of her. Willow's shown me kindness in the past, and I don't forget those sort of things. That being said, I know that person using her face isn't really Willow. Therefore, I don't have any emotional dilemmas about ripping her head off."
Buffy was aggravated with herself at having any hesitation in killing the evil witch. It shouldn't bother her that much that the witch could sometimes look like Willow, because it so obviously wasn't her friend. "It's just the... looking like Willow thing wigs me. Even when she‘s green and evil-looking, I can see Willow‘s face underneath."
Spike thought about criticizing her for feeling that way, but he understood all too well what it felt like to have to kill someone who looked even remotely like a person you loved. "Yeah, s'pose it would. Well... I'll have no problem with it once I find a way to even touch her without immense pain."
They both went quiet for a minute, lost in unsettling thoughts.
Spike broke the silence, changing the subject. "Some things are different from the story I remember reading. There was a big oven, not a pot. That's how Gretel killed the witch, by shovin' her in and locking her in it to burn."
"Yeah, now that you mention it, I remember it was an oven."
"And we didn't leave the trail of breadcrumbs, so that's different too," Spike said, giving her a look that said 'because you didn't check the bloody pocket of your apron'.
Buffy rolled her eyes.
"There've been quite a few different versions of the classic fairy tales, some darker and grislier than others. Some sanitized, safer versions popped up in the 20th century -- Humans became such bloody namby-pamby wankers, makin' everything happier and less scary with cute little talking animals. Something tells me that the Unari have a fondness for the darker tales," Spike said with a sigh.
"I hope you're wrong..." Buffy said, though she was sickeningly certain he was right.
"Yeah, me too. We just need to be prepared for the worst."
"I'd say a witch chaining us to a wall and threatening -- promising -- to eat us qualifies as 'the worst'."
Spike glossed over that remark, it wasn't something he wanted to ponder. "Another thing that's different, the witch was supposed to find Hansel and Gretel munching on her house, which we did not do. Unless you had a gnosh while my back was turned."
"I only wish I'd eaten something while I had the chance..." Buffy said regretfully, absently rubbing her stomach.
"The witch was supposed to be an old crone -- which she sort of is. But not infirm and blind as she was written. Remember? Hansel fooled her by holding out a chicken bone he found in his cage when she wanted to check to see if he was getting fat. The witch was too blind to realize that it wasn't his finger. Our hostess doesn't seem to have any vision impairment. Nuttier than an outhouse rat? Yes. But her eyesight seems fine."
Buffy thought she remembered something like that. She looked at him funny. "You seem to know a lot about that fairy tale..."
Spike sniffed. "So? I was a wee lad once, y'know? Had my share of bedtime stories read to me."
It was a weird concept, but Buffy supposed that many, many years ago an innocent, pre-bloodsucking young William did have his mum read him stories when he was tucked in at night. She bet that he'd been an adorable little boy, apple-cheeked, chubby-legged, and innocent. It made her sad to think about it, that innocent little boy being turned into a monster years down the line. "You said Hansel was kept in a cage, so that's another thing that's different."
"You see what all this means, don't you?" Spike asked.
"Um... yes, but tell me what you think first..." Buffy said, not having a clue what he was getting at.
"If things are changed from the original story, that means there's no guarantee that we can escape before the bad shit goes down like Hansel and Gretel did."
"I think... it just means that we have to find a different way to escape. That's all. Think outside the box, as they say." Buffy was afraid to admit that Spike might be right. What if she'd gotten them both killed because she'd been convinced that talking to 'Willow' was the correct course of action in order to complete the quest? Because she'd stubbornly refused to consider his opinion... "I'm surprised that you're giving up hope so soon, Spike."
"I didn't say anything about 'giving up'. I told you before, Slayer, I'm a survivor. If there's any way to get out of this place, you bet your sweet ass I'm gonna find it."
Buffy's brows went up slightly at the 'sweet ass' comment, but she let it go. "Do you think she's one of the Unari? She seemed to be telling the truth about not knowing what you were talking about, but maybe she's just a method acting fanatic. Like a Daniel Day Lewis type actor -- on crack."
Spike considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "My gut says that she's not one of them. When I asked her straight-out about it, there wasn't any kind of tell; no involuntary twitch, no extra blink, no change in her voice. I really don't think she's one of them. I'm not sure how the Unari operate within their dimensions, but my guess is that the people in them are constructs, like robots programmed to act and think a certain way. Her scent is different than anything else I've ever come across. Like she's livin' -- with a beating heart, blood pumping through her veins and all -- but there's something artificial about her... Hard to explain it right."
"Well, she sure looks real enough." Buffy touched her cheek where the witch had slapped her, "And she hits and kicks really hard."
"Yeah, I noticed that too."
They looked at the door to the other room when they heard movement.
"Sounds like Witchiepoo is awake. Better get back to cleaning," Spike said, motioning her away with his hands.
Buffy got up and moved away, resuming her sweeping. There was no dirt or dust left on the floor after her hour of cleaning, but she wanted to look busy to their captor.
The witch came out into the main room, stretching her arms wide and yawning. "Ah, a little shuteye was just what I needed! All the excitement of you two coming to visit tuckered me out."
They glared at her.
"Were you obedient without me here to keep an eye on you?" Wicked Willow scanned the room as she walked to a cabinet. She ran a green finger along the top of the cabinet, then checked to see if it came away dusty. "Hmm, you seem to have done a passable job, Buffy."
Buffy didn't reply, but did breathe out with relief. At least she wouldn't be punished for not cleaning well enough. Cleaning was never one of her strong suits, to put it mildly, but apparently she could do a good job when threatened with physical violence.
The witch then went to Spike, scrutinizing the pile of food she'd ordered him to eat. "You've made some good progress, boy." She went to the round table, picked up another armful of food, then dropped it in front of him. "Here's some more."
Spike looked at the food, then up at her with a blank expression. "You've gotta be kidding?"
The witch smiled and shook her head. "I expect you to eat all of it before the end of the day."
"I can't eat anything else! I'm full!"
"Don't raise your voice to me, boy," she said dangerously. "And don't refuse my orders. I've told you what you must do, and now it's up to you to do it or pay the price."
Buffy worriedly watched them exchanging words, thinking, 'Spike, don't argue with her! Just play along and pretend you'll eat all the damn food!'
"It's bloody pointless!" Spike ranted. "I told you that eating this won't --"
Wicked Willow's foot shot out and connected with his jaw, making his head snap back. Spike grunted, his head slammed back into the wall behind him.
Buffy's instincts told her to act now. She started toward the witch, flipping the broom in her hands and swinging it back like a baseball bat. She had to make this strike count, the blinding pain would wrack her body and leave her defenseless.
But the witch had turned in the blink of an eye and thrust the wand at Buffy, touching her arm. And that touch was enough to make Buffy yell with incredible pain, forcing her to drop to her knees and forget everything except the pain. Wicked Willow wrenched the broom out of Buffy's hands, then kicked her in the chest, sending her sprawling backwards onto the floor.
"Bad, naughty children!" the witch seethed. "Do you see what your insolence gets you?! I should whip both of you within an inch of your lives!"
Spike had been dazed when his head had hit the wall, his mind was only now just clearing. He massaged his hurting jaw, looking from the witch to Buffy's groaning, twitching form. It didn't take but a moment for him to figure out basically what had happened.
Evil Willow began kicking Buffy's legs in a fit of anger.
"Stop!" Spike shouted. "Don't hurt her anymore!"
She stopped and looked at him, breathing hard, baring her yellow teeth. "I haven't begun to hurt her!" Spittle flew from her lips. "I think I'll kill her now! The insolent little brat is more trouble than she's worth!"
Spike was trying hard to keep his own rage under control. If he didn't try calming things down, Buffy might get beaten to death while she lay there on the floor, semiconscious, with no way to defend herself.
"Please..." he said quietly. "Please stop. You really wouldn't want to kill her yet, would you? Having Buffy around will make your life so much easier. This is only our first day, and it's not an easy thing for us to adjust to... You've punished us both, we got the message -- you're the boss. We know not to try anything like that again. We'll listen to you and follow your orders." It killed Spike to bow and scrape to anyone, but Buffy's life might depend on how well he groveled.
That seemed to placate the witch somewhat. She visibly calmed, still looking pissed, but not murderous. "You'd better mean that, boy."
"I do. And... I'm sure Buffy will agree once she can think and talk again."
She put the broom back in its place, then dragged Buffy by the arm back to the corner. Spike noted that the witch didn't seem to have to expend much energy dragging Buffy across the floor. The bitch was definitely stronger than she should be.
Buffy came back to her senses a minute later, slowly sitting up with her back against the wall. The first thing she did was look at Spike to make sure he was alright. There was fresh blood at the corner of his mouth, but he was sitting up and looking intently at her. She nodded at him to let him know she was okay. She'd been nearly unconscious, unfortunately not having heard Spike's plea for her. While she was relieved that she wasn't hurt worse, she was mad and disappointed with herself for not getting the job done. She should have been able to push past the pain and hit the witch.
The witch's speed, reflexes, and strength were enhanced, that was obvious. Did the Unari design the witch especially for her and Spike? Giving the green meanie superhuman abilities to compensate for theirs? How were they ever going to get away if they couldn't handle the pain long enough to get just one strike in at her? She added those questions to the growing list in her mind as she recovered from the zapping, and listened to a lecture from the witch about them 'misbehaving'.
Evil Willow continued lecturing and threatening.
"I think now is a good time to explain some of my rules to you, we don't want a repeat of what just happened, now do we? I promise you immense suffering if you do it again. I want you both to put on your listening ears and pay very close attention to what I say."
They stared at her, not able to hide their loathing. But they listened, not wanting her to go medieval on their asses again.
"Neither of you will try attacking me again, I simply won't stand for any of that. I do have plans for you, but I will kill you without hesitation if you push me too far. Do you understand me?"
They slowly nodded and droned, "Yes."
"Very good. I have many errands to run and chores to do during the day. Since I have a girlie to do my housework, I'll have more time to go into the village, tend to my garden, and gather herbs and ingredients in the forest."
She waited for one of them to open their smart mouth, but they stayed silent.
Spike nearly said, 'How nice for you.' But he bit his tongue and settled for thinking it instead.
"When I'm away, I expect both of you to behave. If I come back and find that you haven't been good, I'll have to punish you harshly. You will not do any damage to my home or my things. You will not plot against me, or horde objects to be used as weapons against me. May your God have mercy on your souls if I find you hiding a knife or other weapon. Everything else I've done to you will become sweet memories in comparison to what I'll do then."
"Yeah, I think we get the picture," Spike said, his eyes burning with hatred.
"Good. I don't want to have to repeat myself, so see that you mind your manners." The witch went to the candy table and picked up a chocolate chip cookie the size of a soccer ball, then held it out to Spike. "Here, I want you to eat this too. You eat up, get big and fat!"
Spike looked at the cookie, then up into her eyes, grinding his jaws together. He took the cookie from her without saying what he wanted to say.
Buffy wasn't happy about having to eat anything the witch gave them to fatten them up, but she was getting really hungry. She felt weak and needed to replenish her strength. "Uh, what about me?"
"Oh, how rude of me! You need to eat too!" The witch hummed and went about fixing a plate for Buffy.
Buffy frowned when the witch bypassed the table of tasty food. Wasn't she going to get any of the candies or pastries? She looked at Spike, seeing him take a bite out of the delicious-looking giant cookie.
The witch hustled back over to her, and dropped the tin plate on the floor in front of Buffy. "Here you are, my dear. Enjoy!"
Buffy got nothing but a tin cup of water (some of which sloshed out when the plate was dropped), stale bread and crab-shells.
"Crab-shells!? What the fuck?! Are you serious? I'm not eating those!" Buffy shoved the dish angrily away. Her outrage made her forget that she was supposed to play nice.
"Buffy..." Spike said warningly, hoping she wasn't going to be hurt again so soon after the last time.
Evil Willow shook a finger at her, "Eat them or don't. But you will have nothing else, you brazen girl!"
"Why can't I eat what Spike's eating?!"
Wicked Willow's lip curled into a snarl. "Do not question me! I won't have any of your sass! Eat the food I've generously given you and shut your mouth!"
Buffy bit back any further arguments. She could tell that the witch was going to hurt her again if she didn't do as she was told. She didn't know how much zapping with that wand her body could take without some kind of permanent damage. She grumbled, but pulled the plate of 'food' back to her.
The witch smiled again. "That's a good little girl. You'll be spared the lash if you learn to watch your mouth and do as you're told."
Buffy figured that the witch wasn't going to stop staring at her until she made an effort to eat. Feeling those black beady eyes resting on her turned her stomach. So she took a piece of bread and nibbled at it slowly.
The witch, apparently satisfied with that, walked away, going into the other room again.
"This sucks!" Buffy said in a low voice. She flicked at the gross crab-shells on her plate.
"You alright?" Spike asked. "You were out of it for a few minutes..."
Buffy pouted as she looked at her food. "Yeah, just still kind of shaky... God, that shit hurts! I'm hungry, why can't I have a cookie?"
Spike shrugged, "You need a better answer other than 'she's a heartless, evil bitch'?" He took another bite of the big chocolate chip cookie. The look of longing/jealousy on Buffy's face lifted his spirits slightly. It reminded him of when she was going to deny him even one cookie after that spell of Willow's went awry -- the only reason she'd shoved one in his mouth was to keep him from revealing things about their time as an engaged couple.
Buffy scowled at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Oh my, yes. Being drugged, imprisoned, beaten, and force-fed sweets by a batty, cannibal witch is tops on my list of good times."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I meant the seeing me being treated like dirt part."
"Oh, that." Spike just smirked and let her fill in the blanks. Since Buffy seemed to be feeling better and back to herself again, he felt more like himself too, making with the teasing and snark. It helped and felt good to have some illusion of normalcy.
"Asshole..." she muttered. "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?"
Spike looked at her, puzzled. "What?"
"If you just would've kept your mouth shut and accepted the extra food she put in front of you, I wouldn't have gotten zapped!"
"You're blaming me for that? I don't recall asking you to do anything!"
"She was attacking you! I thought..." Buffy didn't want to admit that she'd been trying to protect him, that she'd actually feared what the witch might do to him. Spike would probably read any concern for him the wrongest way possible. "I saw an opportunity, so I went after her. At least I tried to. But you just should've kept your stupid mouth shut." Buffy took some sips of water, even that tasted stale and gross.
"If it makes you feel better to blame every-bloody-thing on me, then go ahead. I think we both know who deserves the lion's share of blame around here..."
"You better not be talking about me." Buffy was defensive about that, she didn't want to acknowledge that her instincts might have been way off the mark and that she should have listened to Spike.
They glared at each other for a few seconds.
Spike sighed and hung his head. "Let's not start another round of snapping at each other, alright? We're both havin' bloody horrible times of it. Frayed nerves, frustration and all that. We have to keep in mind that we're in this together. We've got a common enemy -- her -- and a new common goal -- to get the bloody hell out of this place."
Buffy sighed too, looking back down at her plate. Spike was right, of course. Maybe they were enemies back in Sunnydale, but here, they had someone far worse than each other to worry about and focus their anger on. "Any idea how I'm supposed to eat a frickin' crab-shell? The sad thing is... I'm so hungry, they're starting to look delicious."
The only bit of good news they'd had since they'd arrived in the dimension was that the witch owned a functional water closet, it was a small room off her bedroom. That was out of place in this weird medieval-like fairy tale land -- but neither of them were about to complain. Wicked Willow released them, one at a time, from their shackles by touching the wand to the chains, telling them that they would be allowed one trip a day to the facilities. The thought of trying to escape crossed their minds, but the witch stuck to them like glue and waited right outside the door until they came back out. The time wasn't right to try bashing her head in, they needed some time to recover, plan and assess the situation, and gather their strength.
The rest of the night was incident and pain-free, with Spike and Buffy holding their tongues and just doing whatever the witch told them to do without argument. She'd made herself meat and potatoes for dinner, and of course forced Spike to have some. Buffy wasn't offered any, nor did she ask for any. She knew what the answer would be and didn't bother wasting her breath.
Evil Willow spent most of the evening doing embroidery in a rocking chair by the hearth, singing songs as she worked. Needless to say, she had a horrible voice. After a few hours, her constant humming and singing had Buffy and Spike ready to puncture their own eardrums to end the caterwauling.
Just when they thought they couldn't take it anymore...
"It's been a long day," Wicked Willow said, standing up and stretching. "Time for bed! You two are already in yours," she giggled.
They watched from their corners as she put out the oil lamps around the room, then went to her bedroom door.
"Don't get up to any mischief during the night! Goodnight, my darlings!"
They sighed with relief when she was finally out of the room and the door was closed. The fire in the hearth was still going, so they thankfully weren't left in complete darkness.
They kept their voices low, hoping she wouldn't overhear them.
"I thought she was going to stay in here all bloody night. Lovely singing voice on her, eh? Like a wounded wildebeest."
"Omigod, I was going to go insane if I had to listen to that for 5 more minutes! Not bad enough we have to look at her nasty face, get threatened and beaten up all the livelong day, she has to assault our ears too?"
"Come up with any plan of action?" Spike asked. They hadn't had a chance to talk alone for hours.
"No... not really," Buffy said with a sigh. "You?"
Spike shook his head. "But we'll figure something out... Maybe try getting that wand away from her, we might be able to use it. Do you think the Unari would let us be killed? Maybe they'll stop short of actually killing us..."
"Well, they let us be drugged, chained, and suffer, so yeah, I think they would let us die here. Nice folks."
"You know..." Spike glanced at the door, "I don't see how she'd know if you had something to eat. There's no way she'd miss one cookie or piece of cake or know that it wasn't me that ate it."
"I don't know..." Buffy wanted to grab a handful of food and wolf it down, but she was hesitant, remembering those shocks from the wand very well. It pissed her off that she was already being conditioned, trained like an animal, after only one day.
Spike looked her over. "You can't afford to lose any extra weight."
Buffy frowned. Was he saying she was too skinny? He didn't think she was... attractive? And why did that thought actually bother her? "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm bony?"
"Just that you're already thin -- fit, but thin -- you don't have a layer of blubber to shed. The weight's just gonna drop off of you eating only bread and crab-shells. You need to keep your strength up."
"Yeah, I'm still pretty hungry..." She looked longingly at the table of yummyness.
"Doesn't look like I'm going to be getting any blood, so I'm only going to get weaker by the day..." Spike said, not wanting to contemplate how bad it could get for him. He could last a long time without fresh blood, but it would only be about two weeks or so before he was too depleted to do more than blink his eyes, if he could even do that. He'd get thinner and thinner until he looked like a concentration camp survivor, with just a thin layer of skin stretched over his bones. He shook himself from the frightening thoughts whizzing through his mind. "One of us needs to be strong enough to take her down when we see an opportunity."
"As tempting as it is, I think I'll wait to try sneaking any real food. I can manage for a while longer. We might be able to get out of here tomorrow, Spike. I have a hunch we aren't going to be here long."
He didn't feel as optimistic, but gave her a small smile and nodded once. "You feel up to searching the place for anything we might find useful? I'd do it but..." he tugged on his chain. His chain wasn't magically lengthened like hers.
Buffy got up and moved as quietly as she could through the room, looking for any objects they could wield as weapons.
Spike pulled on the chain halfheartedly. "I know how those baby cows feel now... The ones they raise for veal. Chained up, not allowed to play an' frolic."
"Yeah... I always thought that was sad. I can sympathize even more now."
He chuckled humorlessly. "That's what I am essentially -- a baby cow bein' raised for veal. I wonder if she'll try killing me first, or just chuck me in the pot to boil me alive?"
"It's not going to come to that, Spike," Buffy said as confidently as she could.
"Yeah..." he stared at the fire, "let's hope not. Might not kill me, but it'll make me wish I was dead -- or deader."
Buffy didn't want to dwell on the worst case scenario, she refused to believe it would happen that way. She changed the subject. "You heard what she said about us stealing knives or whatever to use against her. What if she finds what we took?"
"Don't take anything just yet. Just look around for potential weapons, take inventory for when we're ready to make an attempt. She'll probably be awake before us, don't want her to be able to search us and find anything while we're out of it."
Buffy nodded, thinking that Spike could be smart occasionally. She wasn't going to say that out loud, of course, but she thought it.
After Buffy had pointed out all the sharp and blunt potential weapons, she sat down on her blanket, feeling bone-weary. It wasn't easy to keep up an optimistic attitude with what they were faced with. Were they going to fail the very first test they were subjected to? Not only fail, but lose their lives in the process? Who would rescue Dawn then? Her mother would be devastated if both of her daughters were taken away forever.
She mumbled something Spike couldn't make out.
"You say something?" Spike asked.
She didn't answer for a moment, getting her emotions under control. "I said... I'm the frickin' Slayer."
"You need reminding about that?"
"Apparently I do. Look at me... Chained up, beaten up, hungry..." She said the last part in a shamed whisper, looking away from him, "and afraid."
"Makes two of us, pet," Spike said softly. Admitting to being scared couldn't have been easy for Buffy, he sympathized, and shared her sentiments. "Doesn't exactly thrill me to be subjected to this either. Having to do what she tells me, having to keep my mouth shut -- goes against everything I am. Being under someone's thumb, especially that bitch's thumb, fills me with so much... rage. Hard to sit still, hard to think straight. I keep thinkin' I should've been able to stop this before it got this far. Should've been stronger, smarter... something."
Buffy nodded imperceptibly, she knew what he was talking about. He didn't have the added fears and worries about her friends and family that she did, but he clearly understood the feeling inadequate and powerless part.
"Try to get some rest, Slayer."
Buffy turned her back to him and laid down on her side. A minute later she looked back over her shoulder at him, seeing that he was still sitting up. "Aren't you going to try sleeping?"
"I will, just want to do some thinking while it's quiet."
It was true that Spike hoped the peace and quiet would help him think, but he also wanted to wait at least until Buffy had fallen asleep to let weariness finally overtake him. He had a bad feeling that the witch was going to try hurting them while they slept, and he didn't want Buffy to be hurt again. What he'd do to protect her, he didn't know, but he'd try. He rolled his eyes at his own poncey thoughts about Buffy. 'I have to stop thinking about her like that!'
15 minutes later, Buffy was no closer to sleep and Spike was still sitting up, leaning against the wall and thinking disquieting thoughts.
Buffy was so tired, but her eyes didn't want to stay closed. Her mind wouldn't stay quiet, terrifying thoughts and fears flooded her brain. But she pretended to be asleep, not wanting Spike to know how distressed she really was. The feelings of helplessness and frustration were suddenly becoming overwhelming.
She wasn't fooling him though.
Spike could hear her breathing; it wasn't a slow and steady sleeping rhythm. He looked at her when he heard a very soft sob, followed by a sniffle, and could see her shoulders shake slightly... and the sound broke his heart. His own eyes became moist at the thought of her crying.
He thought about trying to talk to her to help her feel better, but she was a proud person, as was he, and she'd probably be embarrassed if she knew that he knew. Then he recalled a method of calming a lady in distress that he'd employed countless times over the years. And, once upon a time back when he was mortal, it had worked on him too. Would it work on Buffy? One way to find out.
Buffy thought, 'God, I can't believe I'm fucking crying! I never cry! It's only been one day, why am I having a meltdown already?! How am I going to...' She was taken out of her increasingly distraught thoughts by Spike's voice.
He was singing.
Spike stared at the fire and sang the words slowly, in a soft, smooth, lilting voice:
"Are you goin' to Scarborough Fair
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine"
Spike paused for a few moments to gauge what reaction Buffy was having.
There were no more sniffles or sobs, she seemed to be paying attention to him, but not reacting in any obvious way. She wasn't telling him to shut up, so he took that as a sign that she didn't mind him continuing.
"Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seams nor needle work
Then she'll be a true love of mine"
Buffy laid there, not moving, just listening to him. She wanted to ask him why he was singing -- and how Mr. Punk Rock knew the lyrics to a Simon & Garfunkel song by heart -- but she stayed still and let his voice soothe her. His voice was good, deep, and soft. It was especially welcome after having to listen to the witch warbling for hours, it reminded her that singing wasn't evil, after all.
As she listened to the rest of the song, Buffy hoped that Wicked Willow wouldn't come flying into the room any second and make Spike stop. Though the song sounded sad, his voice was relaxing her, giving her something to concentrate on besides her own despair and frustration. The sound of his voice made her feel warm and... safe for some strange reason.
She pouted when he stopped singing for a few moments, wondering if she should let him know she was awake and that she liked hearing it. But after a short pause, Spike started the song over from the beginning.
Spike had no trouble remembering the words, he'd always been good at remembering poems and songs by rote. The song was better when there was a partner to harmonize with, but what the hell, it seemed to be accomplishing what he'd wanted, getting Buffy's mind off of her worries. It was helping him a bit too.
Buffy's eyes slid (and stayed) closed, sleep was finally claiming her, Spike's voice lulling her, washing over her. She wouldn't have guessed that he had such a good, velvety voice, or that he'd be capable of singing something that didn't have the word 'bollocks' in it or lots of yelling. Spike was full of surprises.
Spike sang the song from beginning to end a few times. He was thinking of changing to that old song his mum used to sing to him... he loved that song. It had never failed to relax him when she'd sung it to him. But there were such painful memories associated with it now...
He realized that he'd been silent for a minute, lost in the heartbreaking events from so long ago. Then he heard a tiny snore come from her, and smiled a little. Buffy's breathing had evened out, she was finally asleep.
Spike let out a sigh as he laid down on his side. He watched the fire, letting his mind go blank. He'd have trouble drifting off too if he couldn't clear his mind of thoughts of evil witches, a beautiful blonde Slayer, and his confounding feelings for her, and now he'd reopened the old wound about what had happened with his mother too. So much guilt, so much regret and anguish.
Spike let his mind drift, getting lost in the past again. He flashed back to one of those times his mother had sung to him, he was able to block out the bad memories this time, and just focus on the good ones; how peaceful he'd felt, how safe.
It wasn't long before he joined Buffy in slumber.
Back in the real world, at the Magic Box...
Buffy and Spike had gone into the portal not a half hour ago. There was some confusion and worry afterwards, but things had calmed down a bit. The Scoobies were pretty good at coping with the unexpected, though Riley remained especially agitated.
Everyone was in research mode, poring over every book with a reference to the Unari that Giles owned. They hadn't gotten much more additional useful information. One thing they were eager to find was an account, or accounts, of anyone who had entered an Unari book dimension. They were all terribly worried about Buffy and Dawn (and to a lesser extent, Spike), and wanted to know what their friends might be facing. But so far they'd found nothing like that. Maybe the Unari had some kind of confidential agreement with the questors and no one was allowed to tell what happened to them? Anya had only heard 2nd and 3rd hand accounts, nothing concrete.
Giles felt a little guilty for it, but he'd sent Riley out on an errand to get rid of him for a while. The Slayer's boyfriend kept whining and complaining and pacing around the room, driving Giles crazy. He understood why Riley was upset, but it wasn't productive and it was disrupting everyone else's ability to focus and remain calm. It would do Riley a world of good to have a task to occupy his mind, and it would help him feel like he was doing something constructive too. They were able to concentrate on their tasks with Riley gone to Giles' house to pick up some extra books for them to go over.
They had no idea how or why the portal had chosen Spike to go through with Buffy instead of Riley. The portal appeared to possess some kind of sentience; it had seemed to deliberate momentarily on Buffy and Riley as potential questors, then the switch had been made. Were the Unari themselves monitoring the opening of the portal or was the portal itself alive in some way and capable of choosing who would be allowed to enter it? Were the Unari the ones that actually made the choice to send Spike instead of Riley? And if so, why? So many (too many!) questions and not enough answers.
Anya had been given Unari book monitoring duty. If an illustration of Dawn appeared in the book, then perhaps one of Buffy and Spike would appear too. It would be a little comforting to at least know what story they had wound up in. But there were no new pictures yet. Anya told them that the text of whatever story they'd found themselves in was likely to change too, following what actions Buffy and Spike took -- that would be the best case scenario. The Scoobies' hands would still be tied as far as helping Buffy, but they'd know if she was okay and what she was doing.
Anya was flipping through the pages and almost missed it. She turned the last page back over, checking to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.
"It's them! I found them in the book!" Anya said, bouncing in her seat, waving everyone over to her.
The Scoobies rushed around the table to Anya, anxious to see for themselves.
The story was 'Hansel & Gretel'. The large illustration that had caught Anya's eye showed Buffy and Spike shortly after they had arrived in the dimension, walking in the forest, wearing their Bavarian clothing.
"Holy Oktoberfest! Look at Spike!" Xander laughed wildly, much as Buffy had when she'd first seen Spike dressed in the lederhosen. "Can I make a photocopy of that picture?"
They all giggled. It wasn't just that they thought Spike wearing the Bavarian ensemble was amusing, they were also giggling as a way of releasing the considerable tension and nervous energy that had been building up in all of them. They knew where (and who) Buffy and Spike were in the other dimension, and they'd be able to follow the twosome's progress.
"Buffy looks so pretty," Tara said, smiling a bit.
They nodded, thinking the same thing.
"I told her she should wear her hair up more often. Doesn't she look good with it like that?" Willow asked.
They nodded again, Mmmhmm'ing.
"I think Spike looks good too," Anya said.
Xander chuckled, thinking that she was joking. "Oh yeah, me too! Great look for him, I hope he keeps it when he gets back."
"No, I mean it. I think men wearing native or traditional costumes are very sexy. You know how I like it when you wear your bullfighting costume, or the Viking costume, or the Polynes--"
"Ha! Honey, nobody wants to h-hear about that stuff!" Xander laughed anxiously, smiling at his grimacing friends. "Can we go back to talking about how hilarious Spike looks?"
"The Unari dressed them appropriately, I see," Giles said, pondering. "They're able to have an effect on every aspect of their dimensions, down to the clothing that the subjects are wearing."
Anya nodded, "Changing the clothes Buffy and Spike were wearing would probably be very easy." She looked back at the picture. "I still think Spike looks very handsome and manly."
Tara and Willow were looking over her shoulder, both shrugging slightly and nodding in agreement. Spike looked kind of funny, but he was a good-looking dude no matter what he was wearing.
Anya whistled. "Check out the unit on him; he's really packed into those shorts. I wouldn't mind blowing his Alpine horn..."
"Anya!" Xander cried, shocked and appalled.
"Oh... did I say that last part out loud?" She fidgeted. "Oh honey, you know you're my Xander Bear, I'd never stray. It was just a... figure of speech, I didn't really mean I wanted to blow his --"
"Do you have to perv on a picture of Spike wearing tiny, upsetting shorts?! I don't --"
"Please," Giles said wearily, "please stop. Let's focus on what's happening to them, not what they're wearing. Anya, what does the text say? Has that changed as well?"
"It still refers to them as Hansel and Gretel..." She read on. "But the story is changing around them. It seems to be what's really happening: they're the Slayer and her Vampire companion, going in search of her sister." Anya turned the page. The next page was only half written, there was another illustration of them on the opposite page, still in the woods and pointing to a light in the distance.
The new content didn't have a word-for-word account of what Spike and Buffy said to each other, but this was better than the Scoobies could have hoped for. They wouldn't be left totally in the dark and could take some comfort in knowing how and what Buffy was doing.
"They're going to meet up with an evil witch eventually," Willow worried. "I hope they'll be okay."
"Shouldn't pose that large a problem," Giles said comfortingly. "They have the advantage of knowing what will happen next. Buffy is a resourceful person, I'm sure she can handle it. And Spike's a very resourceful fellow."
The Scoobies nodded and smiled a bit, letting their worries fade. They just had to have faith in their friend... and Spike.
"Riley will be relieved when he gets back," Xander said, then gave Anya an admonishing look. "Try not to make any remarks about Spike's package to him, okay, honey?"
"Why?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. "Oh! Is it because he'd feel insecure and his masculinity would be threatened because Spike appears to have a large penis? Penis envy, I've heard about that. Oh wait, penis envy is when a woman wishes she had one, isn't it? Riley would be envious of Spike's bigger --"
"Uh, just... please, don't say anything."
Anya made a lip-sealing gesture. For some reason that didn't do anything to reassure any of them that Anya wouldn't make an inappropriate comment to the already ill at ease Riley...
They went back to work researching.
Willow was reading a tome at the table about fairy tales being used as settings for alternate realities. She sighed and shook her head. "Fairy tales are so unfair to witches! It’s hateful propaganda, that’s what it is.”
The others nodded, keeping quiet lest Willow go on a full-fledged rant or think that they were patronizing her.
They held in groans when Willow continued, “They wanted everyone to associate witches with evil, and used fairy tales to indoctrinate fear and hatred. They weren’t content to burn, drown, or torture suspected witches, they had to turn the common people against them too! Even midwives were labeled evil witches! Can you believe that?”
Tara frowned sadly and held Willow’s hand. “Wolves too. They gave the poor things a bad a name by portraying them as evil and bloodthirsty.”
“Stepmothers got a pretty bad rep too,” Xander pointed out. “Were there any stories where they weren’t horrible, evil old bitches?”
“And sometimes,” Willow added, “the stepmothers were witches! So it was doubly-evil propaganda. Can anyone come up with a positive example of witches, stepmothers, or wolves in an old fairy tale? If you can, you win...” Willow picked up her bag and fished around in it for a few moments. "Whoever does, gets this fuzzy troll pencil topper," she brought out a little smiling wishing troll pencil topper with pink fuzzy hair.
"Oooh, a prize!" Xander said, wanting to win it.
Anya fidgeted uncomfortably, remembering her very first action as a Vengeance demon. "Trolls, on the other hand, deserve their reputations. They aren't cute or nice, as your novelty pencil topper would have us believe. That's propaganda too."
They wracked their brains to think of positive examples of stepmothers, witches, or wolves in fairy tales, as they continued studying the books in front of them.
Riley went over the list of books Giles had given him, making sure he brought the right ones back to the shop.
He was furious that Spike had gone through the portal with Buffy. Even though Giles and the others had said they didn't see how Spike could've had anything to do with it, Riley was convinced that the evil, treacherous Vampire was responsible in some way.
Spike had a thing for Buffy -- Riley had seen it, sensed it, felt it. And he wouldn't put anything past Spike. Maybe Spike had made some kind of secret deal with the Unari? Riley knew Spike couldn't possibly actually care about Dawn, that was just part of his evil plan.
Riley didn't see or care that he was being completely irrational. He was afraid.
He was afraid that Spike had some sick, demented scheme cooked up; afraid that Buffy was going to be incredibly naive (she made some very questionable judgments, as far as Riley was concerned) and buy into whatever bullshit Spike sold her; afraid that Spike would try slithering his way further into Buffy's life... maybe forcing himself on her or trying to seduce her (and Buffy had proven susceptible to a Vampire's charms in the past). His biggest, most secret, darkest fear was that there was something between Buffy and Spike. A strong, primal magnetism that had been simmering since Spike had first walked into Buffy's life.
Riley could only pray that Buffy wouldn't discover she had warm feelings for the evil Vampire (whom she should have staked ages ago if she'd been doing her duty).
"It would be a shame if something bad happened to Spike in the other dimension..." Riley said, a smile touching his lips for the first time since Buffy had gone through the portal without him.
That thought did make him feel a bit better, imagining Spike getting killed in a dozen different, extremely painful ways. But, to Riley's frustration, Spike seemed to have 9 lives, never meeting the violent, dusty end that he deserved. If there was a way to survive, that snake always found it. Riley wasn't going to permit Spike to divert Buffy's attention or trick her into having feelings for him. He'd be damned before he let that smug, soulless bastard take away what was his.
He smiled broader as he collected a few more books, saying to himself, "Even if he does manage to come back with Buffy and Dawn, I'll take care of him personally, once and for all."
The thought of killing Spike was so pleasurable, it was actually giving him a hard-on.
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Chapter End Notes:
'Scarborough Fair' is a Traditional English folk song. Most of us are familiar with the version by Simon & Garfunkel. Thanks to Carol for reminding me of that :)