Two To Tango
Chapter Seven: It's Called Blackmail
"I don't think this is such a good idea," Anya said, as Tara closed the door behind them and thrust her keys back into her bag.
"I t-think it is," Tara said. "You can move right out of there and it's all over. You can begin the healing process," she slipped her arm through Anya's and they started off toward the apartment.
"But I didn't leave anything! And if I did, Spike's already done a search and destroy."
"Well… Spike was upset. You were upset. You both might have overlooked something. And anyway… I want to see him…. I-I haven't seen him in three days and I should make sure that he's…."
"Ok?" Anya finished, fixing her best friend with a knowing look.
"I didn't mean it like that, Anya. I j-just -"
"Why are you stuttering?" Anya asked suddenly. Then she felt that familiar feeling, the same one from earlier, in the Bronze when confronted with Willow. Her stomach fell to her feet and her body floated away, leaving her with the twisted feeling of not belonging. "You blame me too, don't you? You hate me for hurting Spike! Just like Willow and Xander! None of you trust me anymore!"
"Anya. Anya, calm down!" Tara grabbed her arm and drew her to a halt. "I don't hate you! You're my best friend, Anya. But… The problem is, Spike's my best friend too. I care about you both. I hate seeing you this way… Why do you think I'm helping you with this? B-but I have to be there for Spike too. You understand?"
"Yeah, I understand. But you'll be here for me too, right?"
"Of course I will, sweetie," Tara smiled and carried on walking, tugging Anya after her, "now, come on. Knowing Spike, he'll be out now, so we can go back and get your things without any problems, ok?"
"I don't have a key anymore," Anya answered flatly.
"Well, it's completely unethical and totally wrong, but I suppose I could use some magic," Tara grinned mischievously and was rewarded with only a half hearted, grim smile.
"Can't you just magic this all away instead?"
"Oh, Anya," Tara pulled her arm from Anya's and wrapped it around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. "I wish I could, sweetie, I really wish I could."
Spike frowned at Dawn and raised his eyebrows. His mouth worked but no sound came out as he stared in absolute disbelief at the younger Summers. There was no way he heard her say that. He really should give up trying to understand the Summers' women, seeing as they were irredeemably incomprehensible. And they could come up with the most stupid ideas sometimes. "Coffee?" he asked. "Have you lost your bloody mind?"
"No," Dawn answered firmly, grabbing his elbow and yanking it hard, tugging it out from under him, causing his face to nearly smash into the bar top. She carried on pulling, practically dragging him off his stool. "Come on, Spike. We're getting you home and you're having coffee."
"I'm not having any soddin' coffee!" he cried. "I came out to get rat-arsed," he lifted his hand, waving it in front of his face. "And this doesn't make me feel sick yet, so I'm not rat-arsed. I'm not going back there."
She swallowed a scream of frustration and glanced at her watch. Tara was the world's worst liar and wouldn't be able to keep Anya at the apartment for long. She let go of his arm and put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.
"Yes, you damn well are!" she replied hotly.
He stared at her again.
"Who gave you permission to talk like me?" he asked. "And who gave you permission to bloody swear?"
"Well, you make me crazy, Spike!" she sighed. "Can't you just go home, even if you don't get all sobery?"
"Fine," he said, pressing his hands into the bar to push himself off the stool. "I'm coming, hang on -" his foot caught in the leg of the stool and he stumbled forward, hitting the floor hard enough to make Dawn wince.
She giggled slightly when he groaned, the sound muffled by the wood flooring. She bent down and smiled as he lifted his head.
"What did you say about not being 'rat-arsed'?" she asked.
She closed the door quietly behind her, running her hand over the wall, trying to find the light switch. Anya reached out and clicked the light on. Tara pulled her hand away from the wall and eyed Anya warily as she looked around the room.
"He hasn't cleaned up," Anya said, her voice unreadable. "At least I don't have to do it anymore, right?"
"What? Oh, yeah, right," Tara pulled off her bag and dropped it into a chair.
"I guess I'll go look for my things," Anya sighed and walked over to her room, glancing at Spike's room with a blank face.
"Ok, you do that. I'll… make a drink… or something," Tara said, wringing her hands. "Oh, c'mon, Dawn. Where are you?"
She grabbed her bag, searching for her cell phone when she heard the sound of people coming along the hall. She froze and listened to the voices.
"… Will you at least try and walk in a straight line?"
"I am walking in a straight line! It's just a little bent, that's all - oof!"
"Will you watch what you're doing? And be quiet, it's late, you'll annoy the neighbours."
Tara smiled briefly and flicked off the lights, hurrying toward Anya's room, only banging into three pieces of furniture. She stumbled into Anya's room and closed the door, smiling inanely.
"Found anything?" she asked brightly, hoping that if she got Anya talking, she wouldn't hear Dawn and Spike.
"Yeah. I found some underwear," she waved the black satin underwear. "It was my favourite. And I found half a pack of gum. It's not mine, I don't like spearmint," she frowned at the packet before slipping it into her pocket. "But I'll take it anyway. I don't think there's anything else…"
The sound of the door opening made Tara jump and she fell to the floor suddenly, pushing her hand under the bed.
"Tara, what on earth are you doing?"
"Looking under the bed," she answered. "You could have left something. Help me out, Anya."
Tara looked up and saw a look of horror on Anya's face. She rose slowly and shook Anya's shoulder gently.
"He's back," Anya whispered. "Oh, God, what am I going to do?"
"Ok… Um, right, don't panic. I'll go talk to him. Don't panic, ok? Everything will be fine. Don't panic."
"I'm not the one panicking!" Anya hissed. "Oh, please, Tara, do something!"
"Ok, I'm doing something," she patted Anya's shoulder awkwardly and left the room.
"Dawn! What the hell is that? You don't actually expect me to eat that, do - myaoou!"
"It's just a cracker, Spike. It'll stop your barf being too icky. Oh, don't be so childish, Spike! Just chew!"
Tara smiled slightly and pushed the kitchen door open quietly. She waved frantically from over Spike's shoulder to catch Dawn's attention. Dawn turned away from the sink, holding a plate between her thumb and index finger with a look of utter disgust.
"My God, Spike! Did you not hear of the invention of the dishwasher? Or did you just -" she noticed Tara and nodded slowly. "I really need to pee, Spike, so you just stay there and I'll be back in a minute. Just carry on chewing, Spike."
She ran to the other side of the kitchen, bundling Tara out of the kitchen in front of her. She opened the front door and slipped out, followed by Tara.
"How're we gonna keep them in there?" Dawn asked.
"I could use magic," Tara said, nibbling her lip. "But I'm not sure if that would be…"
"Tara!" Dawn snapped in a low voice, "this is Spike and Anya. Just do it!"
"Ok, ok," they slammed the door shut; alerting both people inside of their departure and Tara sealed it closed in a flash of orange light and a few muttered words of Latin.
"Suddenly, I'm wondering if this is a good plan," Dawn said, shifting her weight.
"Well, if they don't get back together, what's the worst that could happen?" Tara asked uncertainly, her gaze fixed on the door.
"They could kill each other?"
"Oh. Right. There is that."
"Tara? Has he gone? We should go now. Tara? Tara?"
Anya frowned around the living room and stomped over to the kitchen where a light shone from under the door. "Tara are you in herraaaahh!"
She almost fell backward as Spike walked out of the kitchen. His arm flashed out and grabbed her wrist, steadying her. When he realised who it was, his eyes widened and he cursed in a flurry of crumbs.
"Whuff oo dofin ere?" he spluttered.
She brushed the crumbs off her and shot him a look, a perfect balance between anger and disgust. He really had to marvel at it. Only his girl could do that. Well, his ex-girl, anyway. He swallowed the damned crackers with a concentrated effort that almost brought tears to his eyes.
"What the hell are you doin' here?" he asked. "Where's Dawn?"
"Dawn?" she asked. "I want to know where Tara is!"
"Oh, bloody hell," he moaned. "We've been had. Soddin' women! Why do you bitches torture me? Dawn! Tara! Open the door!"
"No!" Dawn yelled back defiantly, despite her earlier hesitation.
"Spike, Anya," Tara said, a calming note to her voice that had no effect of the couple on the other side of the door. "We're sorry about this, but it had to be done. The door has been sealed with magic, so you needn't bother trying to break it down, Spike. We're only going to let you out when you two have talked!"
"That's blackmail!" Anya yelled.
"I know," a typically teenage giggle could be heard. One that Spike recognised as the one that meant Dawn knew she had someone on the ropes. "Great, huh?"
