A/N: Jeepers, lot of songs in this chapter. Tara's song is If I Could Only Dream This World Away (somewhat overacted, I think it should be quieter and more subdued), and Willow's song is All For Laura, both from "The Woman in White." Buffy's song is Unexpected Song, from "Tell Me On a Sunday." By the by, I must have listened to a dozen different versions of this song, trying to find the right one. Apparently, Sarah Brightman did a way too up-tempo version that everyone insists on copying. So, even though it's a woman's song, I ended up with good old Michael Crawford.

*****

Chapter 15: Across the Universe

Tara stood soberly, gazing out the large windows of the throne room. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that Sweet’s castle on a cloud was little more than a prison. She hadn’t been allowed to leave the room since he’d brought her in – magical barriers blocked the doors, which were also guarded by those creepy minions with the ventriloquist’s dummy heads.

The only viable exit led to a small suite – bedroom, bathroom, and modest sitting area, all tastefully decorated and furnished with antique mahogany furniture – which Tara had been informed was her new home. Each room had large windows looking out on the world she would never be allowed to explore. She had been told that all her food would be brought to her, whenever she requested it, though she had yet to test that out. As soon as Sweet left her alone, she collapsed on the large bed, exhausted from the night’s adventures.

She slept through the entire day, waking to find her windows to the outside world had darkened. Two glowing moons hung suspended in the sky amidst the stars. At least the moons had each other; she was alone in this strange, unfriendly place.

Suddenly, she was hit with a pang of longing so strong it nearly overwhelmed her.

She missed Willow.

Despite what had happened, despite the redheaded witch’s own part in sending her here, Tara couldn’t help wishing her girlfriend was there with her. Anything seemed bearable with Willow by her side. She regretted the way they’d fought, the way things had ended up. She wished she’d done things differently, tried to teach Willow the proper uses of magic instead of just ignoring it until she couldn’t hold it inside anymore. Tried to talk to her instead of just moving out.

Raising one hand to the windowpane, running her fingers over the glass as though stroking her lover’s face, Tara began to sing.

“If I could only dream this world away
I'd awake
In you arms
If I could keep this bitter life at bay
Wide awake
In your arms”

She began to drift throughout the suite, wandering aimlessly through the rooms as her mournful tune went on.

“The vow that keeps me from you
I cannot undo
I'm lost
Lost in a fantasy that can't come true

“If I could only dream this world away
I'd awake
In your arms
I long to sleep forever
Dreaming only of you
I'm lost
How many nights like this can I go through?”

She was just starting to wonder how long it would take to grow her hair out, to use as rope for escaping out the window, Rapunzel style, when she heard a voice in her head.

‘Tara? Tara, baby, are you there?’

Tara reached out through the psychic link and felt for Willow’s presence. ‘Willow? Willow, I’m here!’

A long time went by before she heard the response, faint and hesitant in her head. ‘…Tara?’

‘I’m here! Willow, you have to help me!’

‘Tara?’

Tara felt the connection wavering. They’d never tried to sustain it between dimensions before. She poured all her emotional strength into maintaining the link. ‘Willow, can you hear me?’

The reply was barely audible, fading in and out. ‘I’m… find you, baby… gonna get you back.’

Tara squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on one thought with everything she had.

‘I love you.’

*****

‘I’m gonna find you, baby. I promise I’m gonna get you back,’ Willow said, silently but forcefully. She got no answer, but sent one final message across time and space before easing her concentration and letting out a long, slow breath. ‘I love you, baby. And I’m sorry.’

She collapsed onto her bed, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest, her emotions on overload. At least she knew now. She knew for sure that Tara was alive.

It was late, and she knew she ought to get some sleep, especially if she wanted to have the energy to pull off the spells she’d need to get Tara back. But sleep wouldn’t come, and she couldn’t expel the restlessness that plagued her.

“Inner voices
Keeping me awake
Will I ever sleep again?
Reassessing
Everything I’ve done
Choices that I can’t explain
All for Tara
This is what I claimed
All for Tara
Have I betrayed you?”

Her voice wavered as she sang, her sadness pouring out of her, flowing into the music, feeding it, letting it gather momentum, increasing in volume and tempo.

“With our old life
Ever out of reach
Look at what I’ve led you to
God forgive me
Look at what I’ve done
Look how I protected you
All for Tara
Shouldn't I have known?

“All for Tara
Was it really you
Who I was thinking of?
All for Tara
But at the start
Were you foremost in my heart?”

Rising from the bed, Willow moved to stand at the window, gently brushing aside the curtains to peer out at the empty backyard, drenched in amorphous shadows. The moon glimmered overhead, casting a bluish glow over everything.

“All for Tara
That’s how I’ll live
Till I save you
Till you forgive me
I’ll dedicate my life
I swear upon my soul
I’ll find a way to set you free”

Gripping the windowsill, Willow sang with fortitude, her voice crisp and clear.

“All for Tara
Till my dying breath
Long as you’re in need of me
I will somehow learn to be strong
I will live to right this wrong!”

*****

Gasping for breath, Buffy broke the kiss, turning her face into Spike’s neck and inhaling his sweet and smoky scent. She tightened her arms around him, nestling in his strong embrace, but he pulled back to look her in the eyes.

“Buffy, what – ? Are you… is this…?” His voice broke, unable to form the questions that were rattling around in his brain. He was having trouble processing that Buffy was kissing him – that he had shown her exactly what kind of monster he was, and she was still kissing him.

Buffy brought one hand up to gently caress his cheek. “I have never felt like this,” she confessed to him hesitantly in song, both of them still on their knees in the middle of the cemetery. “For once I'm lost for words. Your smile has really thrown me.” She ran her fingertips across his lips, causing them to curve upwards into the smile she sang about.

“This is not like me at all
I never thought I'd know
The kind of love you've shown me”

The faint piano accompaniment grew stronger, as Buffy ran her hands down Spike’s arms, intertwining her fingers with his when she reached his hands. She stood, pulling him upright along with her.

“Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing”

Again, she stroked his face with soft, tender touches, her eyes never leaving his.

“Like an unexpected song
An unexpected song
That only we are hearing”

“What does that mean?” Spike asked her hoarsely.

“It means I know who you are,” Buffy replied. “And it doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.”

“So, just like that… I sing a song, and all’s forgiven?” His voice was hesitant, and his brain kept trying to tell him something about gift horses.

“It – it wasn’t just the song, Spike,” she told him, letting one hand slip inside his leather coat, tracing the muscles of his stomach through his thin cotton t-shirt. “You’ve been so good to me, ever since I came back. And – and before, too. Dawn… she told me what you did for her… for everyone. Helping out when you thought I was gone.”

He gave her a sad smile, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Made a promise.”

“I know, and I – I never said thank you. And then, your song… I know that – I know I put you in those chains, with the way I treated you, and – and telling you that you can never be good. I was wrong, Spike. You won’t be a good man… you already are.”

He looked at her, amazed. “Buffy, are you…?”

“I…” – can’t say that word – “…care about you.” Buffy looked into his eyes. “I’m yours. And I want – I want to give you all those things you think you can’t have.”

Spike closed his eyes briefly, a joyful, relieved smile crossing his face. “You, Buffy… all I wanted was you.”

Buffy kissed him, and then the music, which had been playing softly in the background all along, crescendoed again, prompting her to continue her song.

“I don't know what is going on
Can't work it out at all
Whatever made you choose me?”

Spike leaned in, pressing kisses over her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. It suited her, this song, so very like her to show him how she felt without ever saying those few precious words. But she knew how much he loved her, and whether she would say it or not, he understood now that she shared his feelings.

“I just can't believe my eyes
You look at me as though
You couldn't bear to lose me”

Spike grew serious then, his arms tightening around her as he buried his face in her hair, letting her scent surround him, fruity and intoxicating and musky and Buffy. “Lost you once, love. Couldn’t ever do it again.”

“Spike?”

He looked down at her, finding her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “What is it, love?”

“I want you to know… They didn’t bring me back to life, Spike. You did.” When he gave her a quizzical look, Buffy added, “Maybe they did the spell, but – I wouldn’t be… Without you…” She sighed. Unable to put her emotions into words, she simply repeated, “You brought me back.”

He didn’t speak, simply kissed her breathless again. When he finally released her, she sang,

“Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing
Like an unexpected song
An unexpected song
That only we are hearing”

As the music faded to a quiet background ambiance, Buffy leaned into him and asked, “Spike? Walk me home?”

The spell was broken in an instant, and Spike’s face fell. “Yeah… sure, pet.” He looked down at his boots. “’S just… thought we’d go back to my crypt… y’know…”

Buffy shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t leave Dawn another night. I’m already in the running for the Worst Sister Ever Award.”

“Right,” he replied, pulling away from her, his disappointment evident, even though he knew she had a valid point. “Right. Niblet comes first.”

Buffy put her arms around him again, kissing him gently. “You’re coming with me, doofus.”

He pulled back in surprise. “Huh? You mean…”

“I want to make love to you in my bed.”

That was all the encouragement Spike needed, putting their supernatural speed to use as he raced back to the house with Buffy in tow. They crept silently up the stairs, careful not to wake Dawn or Willow. Once they were securely behind the closed door of her bedroom, Buffy collapsed into his arms, out of breath and choking back giggles.

“Gotta be quiet, pet,” he whispered in her ear as he held her close.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep that mouth of yours occupied,” she whispered back with a wicked grin.

Spike let out a low growl. “Think I’ve got a few ideas.” With that, he swept her up in his arms and deposited her on the bed, smothering Buffy’s squeal with a kiss as he jumped on top of her. He peeled her clothes off slowly, almost reverently, kissing her skin as it emerged from beneath her shirt. She pushed his duster off his shoulders, but after shrugging out of it, he lost interest in his own undressing, focused on the nipple he was teasing to a peak in his mouth, his hands causing goose bumps as his fingers roamed up her sides and down her arms and over the curve of her breast. He left a wet trail down her stomach, swirling his tongue around her belly button before continuing on his downward path.

Buffy let out a gasp as she felt his tongue lap against her opening, and she let her hands stroke through his hair, gently loosening his curls. With the most tender of touches, Spike’s tongue slipped between her folds, taking the time to taste her as though it were the first time. She arched her back, urging him on, unable to take his slow pace. Reading her cues, Spike’s hands slid up her thighs to grip her hips as he delved into her harder and faster.

Buffy squirmed, thrusting against his face, digging her heels into his back. He brought his mouth up to her clit, teasing her, licking and sucking until she was on the verge of tears. His fingers joined his eager tongue, plunging into her depths as his mouth worked over her clit, and then suddenly she was whirling through space, stars exploding into supernovas before her eyes. Buffy turned her head to the side, burying her face in her pillow to muffle her cries.

When her thighs finally stopped quivering, Spike kissed his way back up to her mouth, letting her taste herself on his lips. Buffy gave him a blissful smile, and then began to sing softly as she undressed him.

“Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing
Like an unexpected song
An unexpected song
That only we are hearing

“Like an unexpected song
An unexpected song
That only we are hearing”

Spike pressed his fingers against her lips, and Buffy drew them into her mouth, her own juices tart on her tongue. Withdrawing his hand, Spike replaced it with his lips, his legs twining with hers as the kiss deepened, pressing his hardness against her as her soft, pliant body molded to his. Buffy pulled him on top of her and took a moment to drink in the sculpted-marble figure above her. Running her hands down his rippled chest, she whispered, “Make love to me.”

“Every time,” he murmured, knowing that her words were less a request of him – for it was what he had always done – and more a statement of her own intentions, though she couldn’t yet bring herself to say the words he longed to hear.

Sliding downward, easing into her, sheathing himself in her warmth, Spike began to do exactly what she asked.