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Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
 
Chp 3 All Over Again
 
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Something to Sing About by Lilachigh

Chapter 3 All Over Again

“Listen, Red, whatever you think Buffy has done, you’re wrong,” Spike said sharply and moving with frightening speed, took the baseball bat from the witch’s hand.

She didn’t try to stop him, just stood looking at the two of them with what Buffy thought could almost be called hatred in her eyes.

‘Willow, I truly don’t understand,” she said. “Explain it to us. What the heck happened here? No electricity and all those weird, sick people wandering around.”

The red-head shrugged. “I suppose you’d better hear it all. I can’t believe you don’t know already, but I’ll play along with your little game if it makes you feel better.”

Buffy and Spike exchanged looks and followed her into the kitchen. A couple of candles were flickering on the table, and Buffy saw that the refrigerator door was ajar, the shelves empty. She shivered; the air seemed chill and damp, as if the windows were open to the cold night air. But she could see they were tightly shut with the blinds down fast.

“Sorry I can‘t offer you a cup of coffee or even a mug of warm blood,” Willow said. “But, hey, no electricity.” She smiled with a bright, false grin that made Buffy shudder.

“Willow, stop - just stop!” Buffy sat at the table, aware of Spike leaning against the wall behind her, automatically guarding her back. But who from? Her best friend? She felt she’d strayed into a nightmare.

“Start at the beginning. We - left. I thought I was needed more back in the other Sunnydale.”

“And were you?”

Buffy’s mind raced back over all that had happened - her mother dying, Dawn, Glory, being in heaven, and the other Willow bringing her back to life again.

“The Slayer saved the world,” Spike put in from the shadows.

“But not ours!” Another voice came from the living-room doorway. Buffy spun round. Xan and Tara were standing there, looking thin and weary. And the sight of a skinny Xander was more alarming than anything Buffy had seen that night.

His dark eyes looked like black holes in a paper white face. “Hello, Buffy. Spike. Back to do your Slayer to the rescue routine, are you? It’s a bit too late for lots of people. Too late for Oz.”

“What! Willow - no, oh, please don’t say - ”

“He was killed last year,” Will said softly, almost to herself.

“A vampire?” Spike’s voice was harsh. He’d liked Oz in this world.

Willow laughed and Buffy winced at the sound. Glass being dragged across her throat couldn’t have caused a worse noise. “Oh, Spike, if we only had vampires to worry about, we’d be rolling in puppies and kittens.”

Tara moved into the room and sat down opposite Buffy. “For a while after you and Spike - went - things were fine. Life just carried on. You mother moved away to live with her sister. There were a few vampires and demons around, but some of us patrolled in the evenings and kept them a bit in check. Then - we realised something - someone - had arrived in town and was causing mayhem.”

With a sinking heart, Buffy stared at the other girl, the shadows from the candle flickering across her face. “I’m guessing it was a woman - a beautiful woman called Glory?”

Tara frowned. “No, it was a young man. Very good-looking guy. His name’s Ben. But he isn’t a man.”

Xan pulled out a chair and flung himself into it. “We don’t know what he is. Oz thought he was a vampire, but he can’t be killed. He’s too strong, physically and mentally. Even Willow’s magic doesn’t touch him.”

“What did he do?” Spike asked quietly.

“It was slow at first. People - changed. They fell sick. Stayed away from work or left town. Businesses closed down. Public transport stopped. But even then, we didn’t really connect Ben with what was happening.”

“And you weren’t here to help!” Xan put in.

“Ok, Sweetie. Let me tell,” Tara said reaching out to take his hand. “Then we realised that no one and nothing was coming into Sunnydale. No food, no gas, the shops began to empty. There were riots for bottled water when the taps began to dry up, but the police vanished, one by one. Then a couple of weeks ago, the power went down.”

“But Oz - ?”

Will spoke again. “Oz was sure Ben was a vamp or a demon. Nothing else made sense to him. I told him he wasn’t, that I was going to try every spell I knew to overcome him, even if it killed me. He got angry - said it was his job to protect me, not mine to keep him safe. Then he told us he had a plan to kill Ben. But he wouldn’t say what it was. Even so, we never thought he’d try to tackle him on his own, but - he did.” Her voice broke and Buffy’s heart lurched at the pain she heard.

“So, you see, Oz is dead, Buffy. And who should I blame? Ben? Whatever he is, he’s just doing what he’s born to do. But you aren’t. You’re the Slayer and you left us! You left us alone!”

She stepped forward, arm raised and in a flash, Spike was there at Buffy’s side, fangs glinting as he vamped into game face.

Buffy stood up and touched his shoulder. “Wait, Spike.”

Glaring yellow eyes turned to gaze down at her. “You died, Buffy! You died to save the world. You were needed. You chose, our world was saved and Glory died. It’s not your fault if she arrived here as well.”

“Spike - it’s Willow. She’s lost Oz. How would you feel if it was me?”

Spike’s face shimmered and reverted to human shape. “I know how I’d feel, Buffy. But I’m wondering, how would you if it was me?”

Buffy’s fingers bit deep into his arm. His words cut right through her, to a well of emotion she refused to look into. Deep, vivid, swirling emotion that would one day consume her if she let it. Then she would no longer be in control, she would be floating, free, lost in love and that was terrifying.

“Will, listen. I’m not going to apologise. But believe me, I do know a little of what you feel. I lost my Mom in my other world. I’m just so pleased she’s still alive in this one. And I fought Ben in my world and - and I died doing it.”

“But you’re alive now,” Xan said.

“Yes, I am,” Buffy said simply .

Will had sunk into a chair and buried her head in her arms. “I miss Oz so much,” she whispered. “I just want the pain to go away.”

“It will,” Buffy said. “Not today, not even tomorrow, but it will get better, Will, I promise.”

“So what is Ben if he isn’t a vampire or a demon?” asked Tara.

“He’s a god,” Spike said. “In the other world, he arrived as a sodding skanky blonde calling herself Glory. She was from another evil demon dimension and was searching for a Key, a form of energy to get back to it. Has this guy been looking for something - someone?”

Xan wearily shook his head. “Not that I know of. He’s holed up in the High School with a pack of creatures. Whatever he’s doing in there, your guess is as good as mine. Anyone who goes anywhere near the place falls sick. Then they die. It isn’t pretty.”

He stood up. “I’m going to bed. Me and Tara have been staying here with Will since - well, since Oz went. She shouldn’t be on her own. Come on, sweetheart. Bed. We can all talk again in the morning.”

Tara smiled sweetly, murmured her goodnights and they left the room, arms round each other’s waist. Buffy watched them go, her face tense and strained. She turned to speak to Will, to find Spike standing behind the witch, his finger to his lips.

The red-head was obviously fast asleep, head still pillowed on her arms. With a strange tenderness, Spike lifted her effortlessly into his arms and disappeared upstairs. A minute or two later he was back. “She’s out flat - exhausted, I reckon,” he said. ‘Bloody hell, Slayer, what a hell of a mess.”

One of the candles guttered and went out. Buffy flung herself down on the sofa and held out her arms. Spike extinguished the other flame and joined her, easing her into his embrace, pillowing her head on his shoulder.

He held her in silence for a long while, wondering about the tension that he could feel in her slim body. The darkness settled round them like a cloak but with his night vision he could pick out the shape of the windows, see the gold of her hair against his black T-shirt.

“What’s the matter, pet?” he asked at last. “Are you upset about Oz?”

“Yes, of course, but it isn’t that. And anyway, how do you know I’m upset about anything?”

Spike chuckled and she could hear the sound echoing through his chest. “Know you too well, Buffy, in both worlds. You have a certain muscle in the back of your neck that goes as hard as iron when you’re worried or upset or angry. And as I reckon I haven’t done too much to piss you off recently, then I guess you’re upset.”

Buffy grumbled wordlessly, rubbing her cheek against the taut black cotton, wishing she could slip her hands under it to feel his cool skin. He knew her too well. In one way it made her feel safe, secure, loved. In another the very intimacy of his knowledge was scary. She knew he loved her, too much, probably, and not too wisely.

And with Spike it was always of the moment. He never looked ahead. The moment was all that counted, never tomorrow. She supposed that when you had lived as long as he had, tomorrow was not worth bothering about.

Which was why she knew he hadn’t realised what was blindingly obvious to her about the whole set up here in SunnydaleT.

‘Spike,” she said, half sitting up.

“Slayer?” He pulled her further up his body so his mouth was close to hers.

‘Don’t you see,” she said, suddenly desperate for his support. “There was only one way to defeat Glory - ”

She felt his body freeze into stillness beneath her as he worked out at last what she’d accepted at the first mention of Ben. “Buffy - ”

“We have to face facts, Spike. I may have to die all over again!”

to be continued







 
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