Title: Dance On
Author: Joyce Renee
Rating: Pg-ish
Disclaimer : Not mine. Lyrics belong to Over the Rhine.
Spoilers: Up through 'Bloodlines', plus speculation on 'Crush"
Dedicated to Christy who came up with the challenge
Feedback: This is my first sad fic, ever! I'm a happy ending kind of girl, and this is not a happy-ending fic. (Unless you just really despise a B/S pairing.) So please let me know how I did.
Summary: Answer to YGTS? challenge #82 :
"This song ("Latter Days" by Over the Rhine) is so perfect for a melancholy Buffy/Spike fic. I hope someone will be inspired and run with it. It seems like something that Spike would say to Buffy when he realizes it can't work between them! It's almost as if Spike realizes it can never work because he can't open himself up to Buffy, drop the tough guy thing and be the vulnerable vampire we know he is. He decides to leave but wants her and the Scooby Gang to know he really loved her even if he's not strong enough to stick around and make it work."
Dance On
"Why are we here again?" Buffy asked as she sat down next to Dawn at the table, drinks in hand.
"Since when do we need a reason to go Bronzing, Buff?" Xander asked around a mouthful of peanuts.
"Spike asked me to bring you here." Dawn reminded them with a scowl.
"Where has he been, anyway?" Willow asked, moving the peanut bowl out of Xander's reach.
"Yeah, a couple of weeks ago he was always around. It was irritating. And then after Valentine's Day he just disappeared." Anya commented.
Buffy lowered her eyes in shame as she thought back to Valentine's Day. Spike had declared that he loved her. She'd lost it. Told him that it could never work, and that he disgusted her.
She had returned home to find that Dawn was missing. The 'Key' had been kidnapped by Glory.
And who did Buffy immediately run to for help? Spike.
The vampire had brushed off his hurt feelings and rushed off to get Dawn back. And he was the one who had brought the girl safely home.
Buffy had gone to see him that night. She had thanked him, and told him that while she didn't return his love, she was willing to try and be friends.
Spike had smiled wistfully at her before shaking his head and asking her to leave. She hadn't heard from him since.
"Hello? Anyone home?" Willow asked the Slayer, waving a hand in front of her face.
"What? Sorry." Buffy said, returning to the present.
"I said, what happened to Spike?" Willow repeated.
"He told Buffy he loved her, she said she didn't love him, and now he's leaving and he wanted us all here so he could say good-bye." Dawn said, glaring accusingly at Buffy.
No one knew what to say to that. So the group sat there silently eating and drinking lost in their own thoughts.
Their quiet reflection was broken when Xander started choking and pointing toward the stage.
It was Spike. And he was starting to sing.
"What a beautiful piece of heartache this has all turned out to be. Lord knows we've learned the hard way all about healthy apathy. And I use these words pretty loosely. There's so much more to life than words. There is a me you would not recognize, dear. Call it the shadow of myself. And if the music starts before I get there dance without me. You dance so gracefully. I really think I'll be o.k. They've taken their toll these latter days."
Spike's voice was hauntingly beautiful and his piercing blue eyes were locked onto Buffy's.
He allowed a small, sad smile to appear on his face as he gazed at her for, what he knew, would be the last time.
Her lovely mouth was open in shock, and her luminous eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"Nothin' like sleepin' on a bed of nails. Nothin' much here but our broken dreams. Ah, but baby if all else fails, nothin' is ever quite what it seems. And I'm dyin' inside to leave you with more than just cliches. There is a me you would not recognize, dear. Call it the shadow of myself. And if the music starts before I get there dance without me. You dance so gracefully. I really think I'll be o.k. They've taken their toll these latter days.
But tell them it's real. Tell them it's really real. I just don't have much left to say. They've taken their toll these latter days. They've taken their toll these latter days."
When he finished, the lights went out and the entire building was plunged into darkness.
The lights came back on a few moments later, but Spike was nowhere to be seen.
**********
Buffy walked quickly through the dark graveyard toward Spike's crypt. She kept telling herself that she was just out patrolling and she normally started out in this cemetery anyway, and.... oh who was she kidding?
Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door and walked inside.
The mausoleum seemed emptier, colder, deader than usual. All of the strange little things that made the crypt Spike's home where gone. No TV, no refrigerator or mannequin.
The only evidence of Spike's existence was his beloved leather duster that was lain out across the coffin in the center of the room. An envelope bearing her name had been placed on top.
She hesitantly picked it up and opened it.
Buffy,
By the time you read this, I'll be long gone. I 've enjoyed dancing with you, but I can't any longer. You'll have to find yourself a new partner. But I want you to wear my coat when you dance. I know it's not your usual style, but give it chance. It'll grow on you.
And think of me when you wear it. Perhaps in spirit I'll be with you if you do.
I'm afraid our paths will never again cross. For where I am going, you'll not be able to follow. So go on. Protect your loved ones, save the world, and dance your dance. Don't waste time thinking of the why's or how's where I am concerned.
Just know that you did the impossible. You got a demon to fall in love with you.
So go. Dance on. Perhaps I'll be allowed to watch.
-Spike
Buffy wiped away the single tear that had ran down her cheek and picked up the duster. As she slipped it on her shoulders she felt Spike's presence so strongly that she had to look around and assure herself that he wasn't standing behind her.
Pushing his note into the coat's pocket, she lifted her head high, and walked out the door. She would not look back.
And if the music starts before I get there dance without me. You dance so gracefully. I really think I'll be o.k. They've taken their toll these latter days.
If Buffy had looked down, she would have noticed the dust that clung desperately to her boots. She would have seen the trail it left as she walked home. And she would have seen it get picked up by the wind and chase after her in the air.
So go. Dance on. Perhaps I'll be allowed to watch.
The End.
