A/N: Just to answer Hercules8's question, this fic will mostly follow Season 6 canon, but will get more AU starting with the next chapter, and quite a bit AU towards the end.
And now, here's the chapter about one of my favorite episodes, Once More With Feeling. Enjoy!
(Note: Some dialog taken directly from the episode.)
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.
Patrolling alone was...not good. It gave Buffy way too much time to think, and lately her thoughts hadn't been all that sunshiny. Patrolling with her friends wasn't any better, because she had to maintain the pretense that everything was hunky-dory, plus make sure said friends didn't get themselves killed in the process of "helping out."
It was better with Spike. She didn't have to worry about him holding his own against the big bads out there, and Buffy never felt the need to put on a mask around him. She could just be herself; damaged, depressed, torn-from-Heaven Buffy. He never looked at her with pity or suspicion that she came back wrong somehow just because she was unhappy.
She hadn't been patrolling with the blonde vampire lately, though. Ever since Halloween, in fact. The feelings that kept cropping up when she was around him were confusing and frightening. Well, maybe not confusing; Buffy knew all too well what she was feeling, she just didn't want to label them. 'Cause once she did, they'd become real. Way, way too real. And she couldn't handle that right now. So she did what she usually resorted to in these stomach-twisty, non-combative situations; beat a panicked retreat. After more than a week of avoiding Spike, Buffy's already low spirits had taken a nosedive.
Buffy plodded through the cemetery with zero enthusiasm. At this point, she didn't care what happened on patrol, as long as it was over with soon so she could go home and mope in peace in her bedroom. An unfamiliar tune started running through her mind. Buffy wasn't sure where she'd heard it, but it was kind of catchy. She started to hum along when the words started coming out of her mouth, almost like they had a mind of their own.
"Every single night the same arrangement
I go out and fight the fight
Still I always feel the strange estrangement
Nothing here is real
Nothing here is right"
It was right then that Buffy realized the music wasn't just in her head. An unseen orchestra flooded the air with the sounds of instruments. When Buffy came upon a group of two vamps and a goat-headed demon who looked like they were about to sacrifice some guy they had tied to a tree, she quickly discovered that the musical effect extended to them as well. The ensuing fight felt like it was choreographed to match the beats in the song. The vampires and the demon even did a funny little dance number and sang their own verse.
"She does pretty well with fiends from Hell
But lately we can tell"
Buffy leapt in, grabbed the demon's sword, lopped off one vampire's head, knocked the other away.
"That she's just going through the motions
Faking it somehow"
She ran the goat-headed demon through with the sword while he was caught up in the singing.
"She's not even half the girl she—ow..."
The demon fell over mid-verse. Buffy walked over to where the sacrificial victim was tied up to the tree.
"Will I stay this way forever
Sleepwalk through my life's endeavor"
She hacked through the ropes with the sword. The victim, a gorgeously handsome man right out of a supermarket romance novel cover, beamed in gratitude and sang, "How can I repay y—"
Buffy abruptly walked away,"Whatever
I don't want to beeee...
Going through the motions
Losing all my drive
I can't even see
If this is really me
And I just wanna beeee..."
She staked the last vampire as it tried to jump her. As its dust cloud cleared, Buffy finished with her arms held out dramatically.
"Aliiiive..."
She held that pose for a moment, then looked around the now empty cemetery with a frown. "Okay... That was weird."
After more than one hundred and twenty years of unlife, Spike finally witnessed true horror in the form of a massive, blubbery Chirago demon dancing a samba while bellowing out a warbling tune about his cheating girlfriend, who he apparently planned to eat once he left Willy's. The Chirago finished off with an elaborate twirl, knocking several patrons off their stools with his flailing arms in the process. The music that had inexplicably accompanied the demon faded, and the Chirago, looking somewhat embarrassed, cleared his throat and lumbered for the exit.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Spike blurted.
Willy, who'd spent the entire number wiping down glasses like nothing unusual was happening, shrugged and said, "Stuff like that's been goin' on all day. People bursting into song, prancin' around like Fred Astaire. I figure the town's under some kinda curse, or maybe a spell that went wrong."
Spike reached for the bottle to top off his drink. He'd need it to wipe out the memory of Jabba the Dancing Hutt. "What's the point of turning Sunnyhell into a musical? Other than traumatizing everyone with sodding awful dancing?"
"Got me," the human shrugged again, "But ya gotta admit, it makes thing a helluva lot more interesting. I started singin' in the middle of vacuuming my place out. Housework just flew by after that."
Spike made a disinterested noise and tossed back the whiskey. He refilled the glass again.
"I take it you, uh, haven't given your own performance yet?" Willy asked.
"Guess I've got nothin' to sing about," the vampire muttered gloomily. This past week he'd been brooding so much he was starting to think he should change his name to Angel, Jr. And it pissed him off. Things between him and Buffy had been going so well. He could feel the dynamics of their relationship starting to change, maybe becoming something more than friendship. Unfortunately, the Slayer seemed to have picked up on this as well, and in true Buffy fashion, she panicked. She hadn't asked him to patrol with her for the better part of a week. In fact, she hadn't been by his crypt at all. Oh, she probably had some excuse ready if Spike ever cornered her long enough to confront her about it, but he knew it really boiled down to the fact that she was scared. Scared of what her friends would think. Scared of falling for a soulless vampire. And let's not forget the whole abandonment issue. Spike was all too aware of Buffy's track record when it came to men; the going got tough, the blokes got going. Well, she needed to get it through her thick blonde skull that Spike wasn't like those other nancy boys. He stuck it out with Dru for more than a century, hadn't he? And there was no way anyone could think the crazy bint was easy to live with. He'd still be with her if Dru hadn't ended it!
"Sod it." Spike got off the bar stool and grabbed the half-empty bottle on his way out. If he was going to get pathetically drunk, and probably start singing about his woes in the process, then he was doing it in the privacy of his crypt.
Finding out she wasn't the only one to randomly burst into song was kind of a relief. At least Buffy wasn't going crazy on top of being abysmally depressed. On the minus side, when people did sing, there was zero filter. They were either singing about mundane things like the dry cleaners getting mustard stains out of a favorite shirt, or they were spilling their deepest, darkest secrets, like Xander's and Anya's fears about their upcoming wedding. Add to that the spontaneous combustions, and this forced musical wasn't so much fun anymore.
Buffy was in constant dread of letting slip the secret she'd been harboring since returning to life. All this time, her friends consoled themselves over resurrecting her with the belief that she was better off alive than where her soul had been before. If they ever found out she was in Heaven all that time... She didn't want to burden them with that kind of guilt. They didn't deserve that. They did what they did because they loved her, it wasn't their fault they didn't know she was already better off.
Research was getting them nowhere. Buffy knew she needed to look for other leads, and the one she turned to most often for such leads was Spike. It took some prompting to get herself to approach the familiar crypt, let alone walk through its door. Spike came up from the lower level as she walked in, a whiskey bottle in his hand. If he was glad to see her after several days' absence, it didn't show.
"The sun sets and she appears," he stated with a sarcastic edge, "Come to serenade me?"
"So you know what's going on." Good. They'd get their business over with quickly and she could leave.
"Well, I've seen some damn funny things the last two days," he said, "A six hundred pound Chirago demon making like Yma Sumac. That one'll stay with you." Spike shuddered at the memory. "I remain immune, happy to say. Drink?" he held up the bottle.
Buffy recalled the last time the two of them shared a drink and shook her head. "A world of no." She took a seat on a sarcophagus. "So, any idea what's causing this?"
The vampire's expression fell. "Oh. So that's all. You've just come to pump me for information."
Buffy tried to feign ignorance. "What else would I want to pump you for?" she blinked as her words sank in, "I really just said that, didn't I?"
Spike didn't even smirk. A bad sign. Buffy never knew the vampire to pass up the chance at a little innuendo.
"Yeah, well, don't want to bore you with the small talk," he walked over to the door, held it open in an obvious invitation for her to leave, "Don't know a thing."
Buffy frowned. "What's up? You're all bad moody."
"It's nothing. Glad you could stop by." Spike tried to wave her along. He was getting anxious, knowing with his heightening emotions this musical curse, or whatever it was, might take hold of him any second. Why the hell was she just sitting there! "It's nothing," he insisted, less convincing this time.
"What?" Buffy asked.
Spike opened his mouth to give some excuse to get her to leave.
"I died so many years ago
But you can make me feel like it isn't so"
Spike threw his head back in exasperation. Buffy rolled her eyes. Resigned, Spike shut the crypt's door. Too late now; once the singing started, there was no way to stop. No choice but to see it through to its end.
"And why you come to be with me
I think I finally know
Mm-hmm...
You're scared, ashamed of what you feel
And you can't tell the ones you love
You know they couldn't deal
A whisper in a dead man's ear
It doesn't make it real..."
Buffy shifted uncomfortably. His words were hitting a nerve. This only served to anger the vampire. Did she think he wanted to spill his guts like this?
"That's great, but I don't wanna play
'Cause being with you touches me
More than I can say
And since I'm only dead to you
I'm saying stay away
And let me rest in peace"
There was no escape. Even when Spike tried kicking her out, the magic compelled him to walk with her through the cemetery and finish his song, just as it compelled Buffy to listen without interruption.
"I know I should go
But I follow you like a man possessed
There's a traitor here beneath my breast
And it hurts me more than you've ever guessed
If my heart could beat it would break my chest
But I can see you're unimpressed
So leave me be"
They came upon a funeral, of all things. Who held a funeral in Sunnydale at night? Spike took out his frustrations on the terrified procession, knocking over fold-up chairs and scattering mourners.
"And let me rest in peace
Let me get some sleep
Let me take my love and bury it
In a hole six foot deep"
In full vamp-face, he grabbed the terrified reverend and yelled in his face,
"I can lay my body down
But I can't find my sweet release..."
Even though she knew Spike couldn't harm the man, she grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him away, sending them both tumbling into the freshly dug grave. Spike landed flat on his back with Buffy on top of him, his vampire features morphed back into human. He stared up at her with eyes that were sad and resigned.
"Let me rest in peace
Why won't you let me rest in peace?"
With the song over, the spell lost its hold. Buffy scrambled out of the grave and hightailed it out of the cemetery, Spike's sadly hopeful, "So...you're not staying then?" trailing after her.
It was too much. Buffy knew he was still in love with her, but figured because he wasn't pressuring her anymore his feelings must've lessened over time. Now, thanks to this stupid musical curse, she knew what he felt for her was as strong as ever. All those months she spent patrolling with him, unburdening herself to him, and the whole time she'd been unwittingly torturing him. Being with him without really being with him. Using him to make herself feel better. Buffy couldn't kid herself anymore; she knew the vampire's feelings were real, not just his imagination. This knowledge left her both terrified and guilty in equal measure. Guilty for how she hurt him, without even realizing it. And terrified because...even if she didn't share his feelings, she could someday, and that would only leave her vulnerable to getting her heart broken yet again. Buffy didn't think she could survive that. Not this time.
Buffy tried to take her mind off the incident with Spike by focusing on the problem at hand. Giles altered her training regimen to focus on precision and concentration as well as brute strength. Buffy had to admit, the knife throwing part was kinda fun. It used to bother her how much she actually enjoyed the danger and adrenalin of her Calling, but since coming back to life, any sensation besides estrangement was welcome. It helped her focus on the here and now, rather than on what she lost.
Giles seemed melancholy during training. Buffy got the impression that he sang something, but was so focused on her exercises she didn't really pick up on his words.
"Did you say something?" she asked at one point. The Watcher sadly shook his head.
Meanwhile, Spike was out in force, determined to take his aggravations out on whatever creatures of the night were unfortunate to encounter him. The fact that he left the cemeteries behind and was heading in the direction of the Magic Box was purely coincidental, or so he told himself. More than once.
A few blocks from his destination, Spike ran into a bizarre sight. At first he thought it was a man wearing some kind of mask, but as he got closer, its jerky movements and faintly creaking joints told him the creature was in fact a life-sized animated puppet.
"Oi!" Spike called out. The puppet man paused and twisted its body to face him. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"My master has sent me to find the Slayer," the creature stated bluntly.
"What for?" Spike asked, since the direct approach seemed to work just fine.
"To tell her that my master has taken the Slayer's sister hostage at The Bronze because she summoned him and at midnight, he's going to take her to the underworld to be his queen."
"Huh." Spike regarded the blank wooden face for a moment. "In that case, I think you'd better come with me." He grabbed the puppet and roughly began leading it in the direction of the magic shop. Moments later they burst through the shop's door to find Buffy, Giles, and the Scoobies all present.
"Looky-looky what I found," Spike announced, glancing at the Slayer in hope of some kind of reaction. Instead, it was Tara who asked, "Is this the demon guy?"
"Works for him. Has a nice little story for the Slayer, don't you? Come on, then," she shoved the wooden man, "Sing."
The creature proceeded to repeat his message pretty much word for word as it had told the vampire. When it was finished, Spike reached for the puppet to drag it away and finish it off, but the wooden man surprised him by twisting free and running out the door. "Strong," he remarked, "Someday he'll be a real boy."
Buffy stood with her arms crossed, almost hugging herself, the news of her Dawn's abduction bringing her a sense of fatalism. A sense which only increased when Giles decided she had to face the demon alone. Not even her friends' weak protests helped crack her growing apathy.
Spike scoffed in anger, "Don't be a stupid git! There is—"
"If I want your opinion, Spike, I'll—" Giles sighed, "I'll never want your opinion."
Spike turned to Buffy. "Forget them, Slayer. I got your back."
Buffy stared up at him. "Thought you wanted me to stay away from you," she said dully, "Isn't that what you sang?"
"Spike sang a wittle song?" Xander mocked.
Buffy watched as Spike's hurt turned to anger. "Fine. I hope you dance 'til you burn. You and the Little Bit." He marched out of the shop without a backward glance. Buffy swallowed down her guilt and hurt, let the numbness take over as she left to save her sister alone.
Naturally, a song came upon her as she made her way to The Bronze. The strange thing was the sense that she wasn't the only one singing it. She could almost hear the others adding their own verses, like a montage in a movie.
"I touch the fire and it freezes me
I look into it and it's black
Why can't I feel?
My skin should crack and peel
I want the fire back
So I will walk through the fire
'Cause where else can I turn?
I will walk through the fire and let it—"
Not far away, Spike crouched on some old packing crates in a nondescript alley, smoking a cigarette.
"The torch I bear is scorching me
Buffy's laughing, I've no doubt
I hope she fries
I'm free if that bitch dies
I'd better help her out"
He tossed the cigarette away and stood, his feet carrying him towards The Bronze. Who the hell was he kidding? No matter how much she pissed him off, no matter how many times she drove him away, he would always run to help her.
"'Cause she is drawn to the fire
She will never learn
And she will walk through the fire and let it—"
Walking alone through the darkened streets, Buffy let her sadness out through the forced melody.
"So one by one they turn from me
I guess my friends can't face the cold
But why I froze not one among them knows
And never can be told"
At The Bronze, the demon known lately by the name of Sweet grinned in anticipation as he sensed the approach of the Slayer and her friends. He heard all their voices harmonizing together as clearly as if they were all in the room with him. His own voice rose to join them.
"And we are caught in the fire
The point of no return
So we will walk through the fire
And let it burn
Let it burn
Let it buuurrrrn
Let it burn!"
The club's door flew off its hinges, courtesy of a solid kick from the Slayer. The demon Sweet chuckled, "Show time."
The demon was not what Buffy expected. He was...suave. His satin blue suit looked sharp rather than garish. And the way he carried himself was almost regal. He wasn't the least bit intimidated by the Slayer's presence. Why should he, when he had all the power?
Emotions were what Sweet fed on, and the songs brought those emotions rising to the surface, enhancing them. The stronger the emotions, the more power he wielded. It wasn't his fault the strongest emotions were usually negative ones. Joy, love, optimism, they'd work just as well for the empathic demon, and they didn't result in spontaneous combustion for the victims, like the bad feelings did. It was just so much harder to maintain the positive emotions than it was to give into the negative. One of life's delightful quirks.
Though Buffy thought she was numb, her emotions were in fact so strong they were like a beacon. Or a siren, screaming into the dark. Sorrow, hopelessness, guilt, pain.
"I love a good entrance," Sweet declared, lounging in his chair. Dawn sat in the chair beside him, held in place by his compulsion.
"How are you at death scenes?" Buffy's retort came out half-hearted. Sweet chuckled.
"Buffy!" Dawn cried out from her chair, "I swear, I didn't summon him."
"Don't worry. You're not going anywhere," Buffy stared levelly at the demon, "I am."
"W-What?" Dawn stammered.
"Deal's this," Buffy told Sweet, "I can't kill you, you take me to Hellsville in her place."
The demon quirked a nonexistent eyebrow. This Slayer was even farther gone than he thought. "What if I kill you?"
Buffy shook her head. "Trust me, won't help."
"Hmm, that's gloomy."
"That's life."
"Come now," Sweet goaded, prodding her emotions with invisible fingers, "Is that really what you feel? Isn't life a miraculous thing?"
"I think you already know..."
Spike cursed as he ran through the maze of alleys and side streets. Sometime during that bloody song he'd gotten himself turned around. Buffy was probably already at the club by now, facing the demon without any backup. If anything happened to her before he got there...
The Bronze came into sight. Lights were on, and from inside Spike's keen ears picked up the strains of music and a sad, lonely voice.
"There was no pain
No fear, no doubt
'Til they pulled me out
Of Heaven"
Bollocks, the demon had her dredging up her closest-held secret. Spike jumped to peer through the closest window, saw Buffy standing in front of the stage where the demon sat with a captive Dawn. He also saw Giles and the Scoobies. So the fickle pillocks decided to step in and help after all. Now they were being forced to hear the one thing Buffy never wanted them to know.
"So that's my refrain
I live in Hell
'Cause I've been expelled
From Heaven
I think I was in Heaven
So give me something to sing about
Please...give me something to sing about..."
Then Buffy started to dance, her movements becoming less coordinated the more her emotions started to overwhelm her. The others stood by and watched helplessly, either too stunned to move or magically restrained. Buffy whirled and spun, faster and faster, smoke rising around her. Sweet leaned to the edge of his seat, grinning in excitement. The resulting explosion of flame and emotion would likely keep him satiated for weeks to come.
Buffy wanted to cry out. She just wanted the pain to end.
A pair of hands suddenly gripped her shoulders, halting her mid-spin. Buffy found herself gazing up into a familiar pair of hard blue eyes. Spike. He came back. He always came back for her.
"Life's not a song
Life isn't bliss
Life is just this
It's living"
He gently brushed her hair back from her eyes.
"You'll get along
The pain that you feel
You only can heal
By living
You have to go on living"
His smile held a touch of sadness.
"So one of us is living."
As the music faded, Sweet idly clapped his hands in applause. " Now that was a show-stopping number. Though not quite the fireworks I was looking for."
"Get out of here," Willow snarled. Her cheeks were tearstained, her emotions running high from Buffy's revelation rather than the demon's influence.
Sweet cocked his head in curiosity. "Hmm, I smell power. Well," he got to his feet, "I guess the little missus and I should be on our way."
"That's not going to happen," Giles declared.
"I didn't summon you!" Dawn protested frantically.
Sweet leaned over the girl, touched her necklace. "You have my talisman on, sweet thing."
"This?" Dawn's hand flew to the jewelry, "N-no I, uh, at the Magic box—on the floor—I was cleaning and I...I forgot... But I didn't summon anything!"
Sweet knew she wasn't telling the whole truth. But the part about not summoning him, that smelled of truth. "Well, now, that's a twist."
"If it was in the shop," Giles speculated, "then one of us probably..."
A very shamefaced Xander slowly raised his hand. Everyone glared, especially when they heard his flimsy reason for using the talisman in the first place; to find out through the singing if he and Anya would have a happy ending after they got married.
The demon smirked. "I think everything worked out just fine," he lied smoothly.
Xander threw him a worried look. "Does this mean that I have to...be your queen?"
"It's tempting," Sweet quipped, "But I think we'll waive that clause just this once." He flashed a dazzling grin at his opponents and held out his arms. "Big smiles, everyone. You beat the bad guy," he chuckled, and proceeded to sing one last verse in farewell.
"What a lot of fun
You guys have been real swell
And there's not a one
Who can say this ended well
All those secrets you've been concealing
Say you're happy now once more with feeling
Now I gotta run
See you all in Hell..."
The smug demon transformed into a point of light that swayed and danced above their heads until it gradually vanished, along with Sweet's final drawn-out note.
Everyone stood in awkward silence, no one able to meet the others' eyes. The painful knowledge of the secrets they'd learned, the feelings stirred up...
"Where do we go from here..."
Dawn's solitary voice heralded Sweet's parting gift. Once last song to end the ordeal. The others let themselves join in without resistance. Only when it looked like they might break into dance did Spike discover the compulsion wasn't as strong as before. He shook off the effects with a growled "bugger this" and made for the exit. Buffy saw him leave and broke away from the rest of the group to follow.
"The curtains close on a kiss
God knows we can tell the end is near
Where do we go from here?"
"Hey," Buffy called out, halting the vampire in his tracks. When he turned, even in the poor street lighting, she could see how much he was struggling to keep it together. What happened—or almost happened—in The Bronze affected him more than he'd let on.
"You should go back inside," he said, "finish the big group sing, get your kumbayayas out."
"I...I don't want to," Buffy replied in a small voice.
Spike let out an unsteady laugh. "The day you suss out what you do want there'll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones." God, he needed to get away from her. He didn't know why he was losing control of himself, but he was seconds away from grabbing her and declaring his undying (literally) love before kissing her senseless. Yeah, that'd go over real well. She'd probably stake him for sure.
"Spike..." Buffy took a step closer to him.
Spike held up a hand to stop her. "Look, you don't have to say anything—"
"I touch the fire and it freezes me..."
Spike blinked in surprise, then found himself singing back, "I died..."
"I look into it and it's black..."
"So many years ago..."
They slowly moved closer, drawn together like magnets, eyes staring intently into each other.
"This isn't real..."
"But you can make me feel..."
"But I just wanna feel..."
There was no spell compelling them this time. The confusion that plagued Buffy whenever she was around the vampire was gone. It might likely return later, but right now, when she kissed Spike in that moment, it was because she wanted to. More than anything.
The music swelled. The sound of seventy-six trombones filled the air.
Nearby, hidden in an unlit alley, the demon Sweet grinned in satisfaction as he fed off the emotions radiating from the couple in waves. He hadn't tasted love this intense in a very long time. It was intoxicating.
