Home Before Dark - Part Twelve
by Debbie Nockels
COPYRIGHT: April 2002
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from BTVS or ANGEL. They're owned by Joss Whedon (who needs to treat them nicer), MutantEnemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, David Greenwalt, the WB, UPN, Fox, etc.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize to Joss Whedon for tampering with his awesome lyrics.
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Buffy blew out a gusty sigh. Another night, another cemetery, another patrol. Not that she should really be complaining. After the events of Halloween she'd cut her patrolling in half, going out only every other night. Giles and the others, including Spike, had agreed that she needed to spend more quality time with Dawn, and they were covering for her on the nights she stayed in with her sister.
Poor Dawnie, finding out that the cute boy she was interested in was a vampire. Boy, could she relate to that! Buffy chuckled ruefully at the memory of her first kiss with Angel. Yeah, finding yourself suddenly looking into a vampiric face was quite a shock, especially if you'd just been kissing that face. The difference was that Angel wasn't a vicious killer anymore, and although they'd had their ups and downs over the years, their love remained unbroken; something she was devoutly grateful for, since otherwise she'd be totally screwed up right now, instead of being screwed up only part of the time.
Moodily she kicked at a half-buried stone and sighed again. Why was she so down in the dumps lately? Why were things still such a struggle sometimes? Surely she'd been back long enough that her life should feel comfortable and, and familiar again, so why did some things still require so much effort on her part? After all, it was the same life she'd had before she died. Why couldn't she just settle back into the groove, like relaxing into an old chair?
Of course, even before she'd died - again - that old, familiar (if not always comfortable) life had irrevocably changed. The revelation that her memories of Dawn were false, engineered by a spell whose magnitude staggered the imagination, followed by the death of her mother -
She blinked hard. Would she ever stop missing her mother? Stop yearning for her comforting presence, the sound of her voice, the warmth of her smile . . . the security of her job that kept the bills paid?
Buffy smiled bitterly. How ironic was it that she, the Slayer, who killed demons on an almost nightly basis, who'd averted three or four Apocalypses and an Ascension, who'd died twice to save the world, couldn't find a job? She'd lost track of how many interviews she'd gone out on in the past few weeks. If it wasn't for Giles' generosity, and now the contributions from Willow and Tara, before long she'd have begun receiving increasingly stern reminders from the bank that her mortgage payment was overdue, not to mention the other institutions that expected to be paid on a regular basis.
Thank God for Giles. And Angel. He too had offered to help out, but something in her had rebelled at that. She didn't really understand why, but she just didn't want to accept money from Angel. Unless, of course, it was a real emergency but, thanks to Giles, that wasn't the case. No, what she wanted - needed - from Angel was something she couldn't have.
Stop it, Buffy Summers, she mentally scolded herself. You're talking to Angel almost every night, aren't you? And seeing him every couple of weeks. Even if it's not as often as you'd like, that's a hell of a lot more than you've had in the past two years, so stop feeling sorry for yourself! He loves you and you love him. There are people who would kill to know a love like that. Of course there are people who'd kill over a five dollar bet, but that's not the point. You're lucky to have Angel, even though you can't share his life.
That, of course, was a big part of her current depression. She had to stay in Sunnydale and Angel had to be in Los Angeles. She could talk sternly to herself 24/7 and it wouldn't change the fact that she missed him and wanted to be with him. Their last couple of phone calls hadn't helped that longing, since most of the conversation had been about Cordelia. Okay, maybe not most - but a larger part than she liked. It was all "Cordy this" and "Cordy that."
Buffy stopped in her tracks, suddenly overcome with shame. Cordy might be tall and beautiful, with a curvaceous body to die for, but she didn't have an easy life. Not that long ago her visions had been sabotaged by Wolfram & Hart so that along with the usual migraines they caused, she'd also endured boils and slashings and probably other torments Buffy didn't recall at the moment.
Also, Cordelia had just recently discovered that as the price for ending the sabotage, Wolfram & Hart had demanded that Angel rescue someone from a hell dungeon. He'd done so, only to find out the young man was no innocent victim but rather someone who possessed the awful power to instill in other men the overpowering urge to kill women. The young man - Billy by name - had escaped from his family a few days ago and several deaths had occurred before he'd been stopped. God, was she really resenting that Angel had been worried about Cordy? What was wrong with her?
Softly she began to sing as she resumed her patrol:
"Every single night, the same arrangement
I go out and fight the fight
Still I often feel this slight estrangement,
Like nothing here is real,
Nothing here is right."
A vampire sprang out from behind a gravestone and rushed her. Without missing a beat she ducked away and spun him around.
"I've been making shows"
Her fist connected.
"Of trading blows,
Just hoping no one knows"
She kicked the vampire, then grabbed him and threw him behind her.
"I'm often just going through the motions,
Walking through the part."
She pulled a stake from the pocket of her coat. Without looking she staked the vampire as it attacked her from behind.
"Nothing seems to penetrate my heart."
She heard the unforgettable sound of the vamp exploding into dust but just kept on walking - and singing.
"I was always brave,
And kind of righteous.
Now I find I'm wavering."
Noticing some sort of commotion at a nearby tree, Buffy checked it out. Two vampires and a demon were gathered around it. They had apparently tied someone to the tree but she couldn't see who it was, as he or she was around the other side. The vampires spotted her and attacked.
"Crawl out of your grave," (she sang)
"You'll find this fight just - "
She punched one vampire.
"Doesn't mean a thing."
The second vamp also took a hit.
"She ain't got that swing," carolled the first vampire as he knocked her down with a blow from his fist. Crickets chirped in the bushes around her.
"Thanks for noticing."
She continued to lie on the ground as the two vamps and the demon all began dancing, like a chorus line in a Broadway show.
"She does pretty well with fiends from hell," (they sang)
"But sometimes we can tell
She's just going through the motions."
Buffy noticed a sword sticking in the ground beside her. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed it. The demon sang,
"Going through the motions!"
as she pulled the first vamp out of the dance lineup and, with one swing, decapitated it.
"Faking it somehow," the second vampire warbled.
Buffy pushed him aside and stabbed the demon, who kept on singing,
"She's not even half the girl she - "
It looked down at his wound and clutched it.
"Ow."
The demon fell to the ground. Buffy headed for the tree.
"Will I stay this way forever?
Sleepwalk through my life's endeavor?"
The ropes binding the captive parted with one slash of the sword. A handsome hunk of a young man stepped into view.
"How can I repay - " he began musically.
Buffy cut him off.
"Whatever."
Turning, she tossed the sword aside and continued walking.
"I don't want to be - "
Holding the note she stepped up onto a raised memorial platform, one that was ringed by statues.
"Going through the motions,
Losing all my drive.
I can't even see if this is really me,
And I just want to be - "
The second vampire attacked her and she staked him, then spread her arms and sang:
"Aliiiiiive!"
The silence was deafening. Slowly Buffy lowered her arms, then stepped off the memorial. "Okay. That was - weird." With an uneasy, wide-eyed glance around, she called it a night and went home. The next morning, after seeing Dawn off to school, she hurried over to the Magic Box. As she'd expected, everyone was there.
"Good morning, Buffy!" Giles called out. Willow and Tara were standing by the counter.
Willow looked up. "Oh, hey. Did Dawn get off to school all right?"
"What?" Buffy said, distracted. "Oh. Uh, yeah. I think so." She came farther into the store. Xander was sitting at the round table holding a doughnut in each hand. Giles came over, looked in the box of doughnuts and selected one.
Buffy said, "So, uh, no research? Nothing going on? Monsters or whatnot?" Mouths full, Giles and Xander shook their heads. "Good! Good," Buffy said, then added, awkwardly, "Uh, so, did anybody . . . uh . . . last night, you know, did anybody, um . . . burst into song?"
Giles stopped in mid-chew. Everyone stared at her. "Merciful Zeus!" blurted Xander, spraying crumbs everywhere. Hastily he wiped his mouth and swallowed, brushing the table clean. Willow, Tara, and Anya rushed over and everyone began talking at once.
"We thought it was just us!" Willow exclaimed as Giles said something about leaving his guiitar at the hotel, and Tara said, "It was bizarre. We were talking and then it was like - "
"Like you were in a musical," Buffy put in. "Yeah," Tara agreed.
"That would explain the huge backing orchestra I couldn't see," mused Giles, "and the synchronized dancing from the room service chaps." In the midst of further babble about dishwashing and dancing and harmonies, he asked Buffy, "What did you sing about?"
Buffy hesitated. "I - I don't remember. But it seemed perfectly normal."
"But disturbing," declared Xander, "and not the natural order of things, and do you think it'll happen again?"
"I don't know; I should look into it," Giles said. "With the books," agreed Willow. "Do we have any books on this?" Tara inquired, frowning.
"Well, we've just got to break it down," Xander said, with emphasis. "Look at the factors before it happens again. Because I for one - " Whatever he was going to say got interrupted. Giles sang:
"I've got a theory"
"That it's a demon - a dancing demon.
No, something isn't right there."
Willow sang:
"I've got a theory," sang Willow.
"Some kid is dreamin'
And we're all stuck inside
His wacky Broadway nightmare."
"I've got a theory we should work this out"
came Xander's musical contribution.
Buffy winced. Singing was not Xander's strong point. She listened and watched as the number played out, through Xander's suggestion that it might be witches and then his attempt to backpedal when Tara and Willow took offense at that idea, to Anya's bizarre electric rock solo that it could be evil little bunnies who were responsible. Not for the first time Buffy wondered how this bunny phobia of hers had started. How could someone who had once been a demon be frightened of rabbits? Then as Giles got up to check out sources upstairs, the same compulsion she'd felt the night before swept over her. Briefly she struggled but resistance proved useless.
She sang,
"I've got a theory.
It doesn't matter."
Halfway up the steps, Giles paused and turned around. The others all looked at her.
"What can't we face if we're together?
What's in this place that we can't weather?
Apocalypse? We've all been there.
The same old trips; why should we care?"
Tara, Willow, Xander and Anya sang along:
"What can't we do if we get in it?
We'll work it through within a minute."
Buffy looked at Giles, wondering why he wasn't joining in. After a minute he did.
"We have to try.
We'll pay the price.
It's do or die."
Buffy shrugged.
"Hey, I've died twice."
At that, Giles smiled and came back down the ladder.
"What can't we face if we're together?"
They were all singing.
"What's in this place that we can't weather
If we're together?
There's nothing we can't face."
"Except for bunnies," Anya added as the number ended. Going over to the table she plopped down in a chair. One by one the others joined her.
"See, okay, that was disturbing," Xander announced.
"I thought it was neat," protested Willow.
"So what is it? What's causing it?" Buffy wanted to know.
"I thought it didn't matter," Giles teased.
Buffy gave him a look. "Well, I'm not exactly quaking in my stylish yet affordable boots, but there's definitely something unnatural going on here. And that doesn't usually lead to hugs and puppies." Giles acknowledged her point with a lift of his eyebrows.
"Well, is it just us?" asked Anya. "I mean, is it only happening to us?" Buffy walked over to the door. " 'Cause that would probably mean a spell or - "
The bell above the door jingled as Buffy opened it. Outside she saw a man standing in the street, a plastic-covered shirt in his hand. Joyfully he was belting out at the top of his lungs that the cleaners had gotten the mustard out. A group of people around him waved their own dry-cleaning bags as they danced, enthusing about mustard removal. She closed the door.
"It's not just us." Crossing the room, she joined the others at the table, wondering if she looked as stunned as they all did. That had been loud. "So - what are we looking for here? A demon that's obsessed with recreating the Golden Age of Broadway?"
Giles said, "Well, that's a starting point, certainly." At Buffy's incredulous look he added, "I'm quite serious. In the early 1800s the Council had to deal with a demon trying to impose the Roman Empire on an area of Germany. Demons can be obsessive too, you know."
"Like Spike," agreed Xander, looking at her pointedly. "Fixated on Buffy and thinking it's love."
"That's not funny, Xander," Buffy said, remembering Spike's blatant overtures to her. Funny how she happened to run into him during almost every patrol these days.
He turned around in his chair to face her, an unwontedly serious expression on his face. "You're right, it isn't funny. What it is, is disturbing - really disturbing. You need to get rid of him, Buffy."
A spark of anger flared. "He helped us fight Glory," Buffy retorted. "He protected Dawn, or have you forgotten all that? And now you want me to just kill him?" Giles started to say something, but checked himself.
"I didn't say you should kill him," Xander replied. "I know how much he helped us back then and I'm grateful for it, but I also know that he had his own twisted motives for doing everything he did. My personal guess is that he wanted to stay on your good side. I may have issues with Angel, but at least I know Dead Boy's love is sincere. Whatever it is that Spike feels for you is just plain sick."
"Xander's right," Giles put in quietly. "Buffy, I was going to talk to you about it privately, but since Xander has already brought it up - this has happened once before, a vampire becoming obsessed with a Slayer. I don't mean with killing her; unfortunately, that's fairly common with vampires. I mean true, fanatical obsession . . . following her - stalking her, really - keeping an eye on everything she did, everyone she came into contact with . . . even on occasion killing other demons to protect her. He too declared that he loved her."
"What happened?" Tara asked, her gentle face creased with a concerned frown. "I mean, h-how did it end?"
Giles sighed and began polishing his glasses. "The way you'd expect it to. The obsession grew stronger and stronger; eventually the vampire tried to force himself on her - and she staked him, but not before he injured her to the point that it took months for her to fully recover."
"That vampire didn't have a chip," Buffy pointed out. "Spike can't hurt me."
"Not physically," Giles corrected, "but just because he can't hit you doesn't mean he can't attack with more indirect methods. Remember his alliance with Adam, how he did his best to get all of you upset with each other, to split up the group. Spike could be in contact with all kinds of unsavory characters, giving them information about Sunnydale. I'm not saying he is, Buffy, just that it's possible."
"You're around him more than we are," Willow said, "but I can't remember him ever showing remorse for the things he did before he was chipped. Actually, he's always talked about how glad he'll be to get rid of it so he can go back to being evil."
Buffy sighed. "Okay, point taken. We can't trust Spike - and I don't trust him, not really. But I can't stake him either. I guess that means I'm weak and a bad Slayer, but - I just can't. I'm sorry." Slumping down in her chair she rested her head on one hand, feeling depressed again.
Giles went over and sat down next to her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You're not a bad Slayer, and not wanting to kill someone who's been helpful doesn't mean you're weak, Buffy - "
"Of course not!" Willow interrupted. "It just means you're . . . human!"
"And that's good," Tara put in firmly.
"No one's asking you to stake Spike," Giles reminded her. "All we're asking is that you be careful, nothing more." Looking around the table, he added, "We can get back to this subject later. Right now we need to start looking for answers to what's happening here. Focus, people."
Xander groaned but got up. "All right, Obi-Wan, lead us to the right books."
<><><><><><><><><>
They were still researching hours later when the bell over the door jangled loudly. Dawn burst into the store, a huge, anticipatory grin on her face. "Oh my God! You will never believe what happened at school today!"
Buffy glanced up. "Everybody started singing and dancing?"
Dawn's face fell. "I gave birth to a pterodactyl," she mumbled, disappointed that her big news was already known.
"Oh my God," gasped Anya. "Did it sing?"
Dawn came over to the table, dropping her backpack on the floor. "So, you guys too, huh?"
"So what'd you guys sing about?" Xander wanted to know.
Dawn heaved a big sigh and flopped into a chair. "Math."
"Oh." He gave her a commiserating look.
Buffy went back to the heavy, musty volume she'd been perusing for . . . forever, it seemed like. Her thoughts wandered from the old-fashioned print, with its S's that looked like F's and made the words look as if everyone back then lisped. What was Angel doing right now? Probably not sleeping, since he seemed to have totally adapted to human hours. He could be doing almost anything, she knew, as long as it didn't require going out into the daylight. She stifled a sigh. Her dark mood of the night before had vanished, but she still longed to talk to Angel, even if it was only for a few minutes.
Her wayward concentration wasn't helped any by Willow and Tara, who began whispering back and forth. After several minutes of this, they stood up and announced they were going back to the house to check other resources. From all the sidelong glances and raised eyebrows around the table, Buffy knew the others didn't believe their story any more than she did.
She gave a mental shrug. So what if the two girls were planning a little romantic interlude? She had confidence that they'd consult the books that were at the house afterward. And maybe the break would clear their minds or something, let them start fresh with the research. God knew she could use some refreshing about now - her brain felt like it was made of mush.
"I need some coffee," she announced, clapping her book shut. At least, it would have been a clap with any normal book; but the heavy, tooled-leather binding and thicker pages (compared to modern books) of this two-hundred-year-old volume merely emitted a dull "thud."
"I think there's still some in the office," Giles replied absently, without looking up from the book he was paging through. "Anya made a pot earlier."
"I make good coffee," Anya declared. "Don't I, Xander?"
"Yes, you do." Xander patted her hand.
"Xander says it was my coffee that finally put hair on his chest," she added proudly. "Because he didn't use to have any there, but you should see it now. He's not, you know, Mr. Hairy Ape or anything, but - "
Xander hastily cut in. "That's okay, honey. I'm sure nobody wants to hear the saga of my chest hair."
"Thank you," Giles and Buffy said together, then exchanged a droll look.
"Well, as long as it doesn't put hair on my chest," Buffy said, standing up, "I'll go grab a cup of Anya's coffee before I fall asleep and drool all over this priceless book."
"I appreciate your thoughtfulness," Giles said drily. "Buffy, when you talk to Angel tonight, why don't you see if Wesley can offer any insight into our problem here. Assuming we haven't already found the answer by then, of course."
Buffy saw her chance. "I could call him now," she offered casually. "Who knows, maybe they've encountered an all-singing, all-dancing demon somewhere along the way."
Xander rolled his eyes but, rather surprisingly, said nothing. Anya smiled knowingly and Dawn just snorted. Giles cocked an eyebrow at her, but he also smiled. "Go ahead; it can't hurt."
Buffy beamed her gratitude and hastened into the office to dial the familiar number - except she didn't have to dial it because it was stored in the phone's memory. She punched the button and after a moment heard it ring on the other end. Perching on a corner of the desk, she waited.
Wesley picked it up. "Angel Investigations. We help the - "
"Wes, it's me," she cut in, then realizing he might not recognize her voice, added, "Buffy."
"Buffy?" he answered. "Is something wrong?" Gunn, entering the office just then, threw him a concerned look.
"And hello to you too," she said, amused. "Yes, thank you, I'm doing good; how are you?"
Wesley sighed and closed his eyes briefly, leaning back in his chair. "Sorry. It's just that you don't usually call during the day, so I was worried." Reassured, Gunn mouthed "Later," and left.
Buffy chuckled. "I know; I was only teasing. Actually, we do want to pick your brains about something bizarre that's going on here." She paused. "Are you okay? You sound a little . . . down." Maybe there was something in the air, she mused. An airborne depression germ or spore or something.
"No, I'm fine. Just a little - preoccupied," Wesley said hastily. "So what did you want to ask me?" She told him all the details. There was silence.
"Singing and dancing?" Wesley finally said.
"Yep. We'll be going along just like normal and then zap! All of a sudden we're on Broadway. Not literally, of course. Weird, huh?"
"Extremely," he agreed, rather dazed.
"So does it ring any bells with you?" Buffy asked hopefully. "Maybe you've heard about a mad-for-the-theater demon who's disgruntled because no one will produce his big musical?"
In spite of his dark mood, Wesley had to smile. "Er, no, I'm afraid not. But I'll check a few sources and let you know if I come up with anything. There's no urgency, is there? I mean, there's nothing actually dangerous about this . . . phenomenon."
"Well, no." Buffy shrugged, coiling the cord around her finger. "Singing and dancing aren't exactly life-threatening." Abruptly she stopped. "You know, I wish I hadn't said that."
"Find some wood and knock on it," Wesley suggested lightly, although he understood her sudden uneasiness. Nothing could be taken for granted on the Hellmouth.
"Okay." Buffy rapped the desk with her knuckles. "Wood has now been duly touched, so hopefully the bad whatever-it-is has been avoided. May I speak to Angel now, if he's in?"
"Of course." Wesley straightened up. "He's down in the basement training with Cordelia. I'll go get him."
"No, wait," Buffy said quickly. "What do you mean he's training with Cordelia? Training for what, the Fashion Olympics?"
"No." Again Wesley had to smile. "Angel's been teaching Cordelia how to fight."
"Really." Buffy was silent a moment. "So, uh, how's it going? I really can't imagine Cordy wielding anything more lethal than a big, heavy Gucci bag."
"You're thinking of the old Cordy," Wesley told her, with slight reproach. "She's making good progress, or so Angel tells me. I haven't actually observed any of the sessions. But he can tell you himself; let me just get him."
"No," Buffy said again. "That's okay; don't disturb them. Just tell Angel I called and that I'll talk to him later, when he's free. Thanks, Wes."
Wesley was taken aback. "Buffy - " There was a click in his ear, followed by the dial tone. Frowning, he pulled the receiver away and stared at it as if it could clear up his confusion.
"What's up?" It was Gunn again, followed by Fred. "Why the big frown? Something wrong in Sunnydale after all?"
"No," Wes said, replacing the receiver in its cradle. He avoided looking at Fred, still ashamed and guilt-stricken by his attack on her the other day, even though he hadn't been exactly to blame for it and she seemed to have forgiven him. "That is, something strange is going on there but that's not what has me puzzled. Buffy wanted to talk to Angel - "
"Of course," Fred commented, matter-of-factly.
"Yes." Wesley paused. "Anyway, I said I'd go get him, that he was in the basement training with Cordelia. Then she said not to disturb him and hung up."
"Uh-oh." Gunn shook his head. "Sounds like someone's been bitten by the green-eyed monster."
"That's silly," Fred scoffed. "Buffy's got no reason to be jealous of Cordelia. She knows Angel loves her."
Wesley said drily, "Unfortunately, jealousy has nothing to do with logic or reason. And the sad truth is that Buffy and Angel can't be together the way they want to be; their lives have to maintain some separation. Cordelia is here with Angel and Buffy isn't - and apparently Buffy is still fragile from her recent experience."
"You mean coming back to life to find herself buried six feet underground?" Gunn said bluntly. "Yeah, that'd be enough to freak me out for a long time."
Wesley got up. "I'm going to give Angel Buffy's message. I'll be right back." They watched him leave.
"He's still upset about what happened," Fred commented, looking after him sadly. "He doesn't want to be around me."
Gunn gave her a comforting look. "Of course he's still upset. He tried to kill you, Fred. That's not something a guy can easily forget about."
"You tried to kill me too," she pointed out. "Or, well, you would have if I hadn't whomped you upside the head and knocked you out. Anyway, you're not still moping about it, so why is Wesley?"
"Because English ain't me," Gunn said soberly, "and because I understood what was happening and you were able to stop me before I really got started. It went farther than that with Wes, a lot farther, and he can't forgive himself."
"But it wasn't his fault." In her distress, Fred began pacing. "He didn't know that contact with Billy's blood would infect him with . . . well, with whatever it was Billy had that made men go Neanderthal-crazy when they got infected with it. None of us knew!"
Gunn heaved a big sigh. "We gotta keep reminding him of that. Sooner or later he'll feel less guilty." He cast a glance out the door. "I hope. But right now we got this situation with Buffy to worry about."
"Is it a situation?" Fred was surprised.
"Jealousy is always a situation. It could cause problems for Angel," Gunn told her.
"It'll work out okay," Fred said confidently. "They love each other too much for it not to."
Gunn looked at her, shaking his head. "Fred, you got a lot to learn about people and relationships."
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