A/N: The song in this chapter is taken from bits of Another Day and I Should Tell You from "Rent."

*****

Chapter 19: Preparing for Battle

To the outsiders, the town was chaotic. Everywhere they looked, people seemed to be acting out scenes from numerous and varied musicals. The effect was overwhelming, as melodies swirled all around them, mixing and clashing, and sometimes battling for dominance. The townspeople sang and danced their way through their daily routines, occasionally interrupted by the stray person who spontaneously burst into flames.

More than once, they came upon a couple or a group in the midst of an argument. At first, they assumed that this was simply a more belligerent society, but they soon realized that most of the disagreement sprang from the citizens’ inability to keep from blurting out their deepest thoughts and feelings in song. Secrets were vulnerable to exposure; lies were impossible to maintain.

“Well, I guess we don’t have to bother with a cover story if someone thinks we’re suspicious,” Buffy reasoned. “We’d never make it through the chorus without spilling the beans about rescuing Tara.”

“Quite right,” Giles replied. “I suggest we keep a low profile and avoid drawing attention to ourselves until we get inside the castle.”

As they were passing an alleyway, they caught sight of two rival gangs facing off against each other, fighting with movements so synchronized it looked like a dance. Distracted by the rumble, Spike stopped, gazing longingly at the violence as the others went on ahead. Rolling her eyes, Buffy doubled back and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away from the melee.

“No drawing attention to ourselves,” Buffy reminded him.

“Just looked like fun, is all,” Spike replied with a shrug.

As the castle loomed up ahead, the group ducked into an abandoned warehouse nearby to strategize, out of the sight of any of Sweet’s minions. “What do you think, Will?” Buffy asked. “Is this close enough?”

Willow looked back over her shoulder, even though she couldn’t see the castle from inside the windowless building. “I guess so. My power’s pretty sapped from the dimension hopping. I can’t be sure where inside the castle we’ll end up.”

“Not exactly filling me with confidence here, Will,” Xander said, real anxiety underlying his good-natured tone.

“I can get us past the guards at the door,” Willow said. “After that…”

“After that, we’re trapped in there with those creepy bobble-head minions, and they kill us all,” Anya finished for her. “Yes, this is a good plan. Let’s go with this plan.”

“Spike and I will take care of the minions.” Buffy shifted her sword from one hand to the other, leaning the blade against her shoulder. “And Giles can back us up, with his wood-chopping… axe… thingy.”

“Don’t feel right about bringing the rest of them in there with no weapons, Slayer,” Spike pointed out.

Buffy paused and looked around at her defenseless friends – and her sister. No way was Dawn going in there unprotected. But she couldn’t spare anyone to wait outside with her.

“You’re right.” She turned to Spike and gave him a look. “Can you take care of that?”

Spike nodded, catching Buffy’s meaning, and took off without a word.

“Wait, how’s he gonna get… Oh,” Dawn concluded sheepishly. “Never mind.”

“So, we just sit and wait for Spike to come back?” Anya asked.

“I’m gonna need some time to prepare,” Willow said, backing away from the group and sitting cross-legged on the floor. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, beginning the meditation exercises that Tara had taught her, which would allow her to focus her power enough to perform another complicated spell. The last one had taken more out of her than she’d expected – of course, she hadn’t expected to transport six other people with her – and trying to do it again, even without the dimensional portal, would probably take most of her strength. If only Tara were here to –

Willow’s head snapped up suddenly, as an idea began to take shape.

*****

By the time Spike returned, the rest of the Scoobies had taken seats on the warehouse’s cement floor, or on top of the dusty wooden crates that remained, and were lounging listlessly while Willow meditated and Buffy paced.

Buffy looked up sharply as Spike burst in the door, his arms loaded with rifles and pistols. “Where’d you get this stuff?” she asked him, as he began handing out guns and ammunition.

“Bunch of pansies building a barricade a few blocks away. Thinkin’ they’re bloody revolutionaries or something.” He snorted. “Don’t even know what they’re fighting for.”

“Think they’ll miss these?” Buffy took one of the rifles and turned it over in her hands experimentally, raising it to her shoulder to look down the sight. She didn’t have much experience with guns, but it couldn’t be that different from a crossbow, right?

“Okay,” she said. “Um, I think Dawn should get a sword.” Before Dawn could protest, she went on, “I do not trust you to fire projectiles that could possibly kill us. Anyone else that doesn’t feel comfortable, the other weapons are up for grabs.” After a moment’s hesitation, Anya reached for the other sword, and Willow unfolded from her lotus position to claim the axe. Xander and Giles both seemed content with their firearms, the former presumably because of his residual military memory and the latter most likely due to a history that Buffy so didn’t want to think about.

“We all set, Slayer?” Spike asked, shouldering his own rifle.

Buffy looked to Willow for her cue. “A few more minutes,” said the witch. “I wanna try to contact Tara again.”

Buffy nodded, turning back to Spike only to find that he’d slipped silently out of the warehouse again. She found him leaning against the wall in the back alley, his rifle propped up next to him, a curl of smoke rising from the lit cigarette in his hand.

“Hey,” she said, and he turned his head to give her an unreadable look. “Thanks, you know, for the weapon-stealing.”

Spike nodded once, taking another drag on his cigarette.

“Are you okay?” Buffy asked, pressing a concerned hand on his bicep. “What is it? Talk to me.”

“’S nothin’, Slayer. I’m fine.” When she wouldn't relent, he sighed. “’S just... had some time to think, you know? Thinkin’ what if you were right? What if it is just the music doing this, and you don't really...”

Buffy’s brow creased into a troubled frown. “Are you saying you don’t think I really love you?” His silence gave her all the answer she needed. “Spike! You were the one telling me it wasn’t the spell making me feel this way. You were the one pushing me to admit that what we have is real.”

“Yeah, and I got what I wanted, didn’t I?” he said, as though that were an explanation.

“Yes, you did, so what’s with…” Then, it hit her. "That’s… never happened before... has it?” she asked him softly. “No one’s ever loved you back, not the way you wanted them to. Least of all me.”

“What’m I supposed to think, Buffy?” he asked, not acknowledging her assumption, but not denying it, either. “All of a sudden, you’re...” He gestured toward her with his cigarette. “And I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

She shook her head, in partial disbelief that after everything – after she’d defended him to her friends and told him she loved him – that he still needed reassurance. But another part of her knew that he would never be sure, would never stop bracing for the pain. That was a luxury he’d never had – the confidence of knowing he was loved as deeply as he himself loved.

She wasn’t even sure if she could give him that, but when the song came out of her, she didn’t try to fight it. “Spike,” she said, her hands coming to rest on his chest, delicately fingering the leather of his duster.

“The heart may freeze or it can burn
The pain will ease if I can learn
There is no future, there is no past
I swear this moment’s not our last”

Spike sighed and pulled her into his arms, his eyes closing as he pressed his cheek against her hair. Buffy felt all the tension ease out of her body as she melted into him. She couldn’t explain how it had happened, but she felt safe now in Spike’s embrace.

“There’s only us, there’s only this
Forget regret, or life is yours to miss
No other road, no other way
No day but today”

“You believe that, Slayer?” he asked, his voice rough.

“I do now.”

“I should tell you I’m disaster,” Spike sang, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I forget how to begin it.”

“Let's just make this part go faster,” Buffy replied. “I have yet to be in it. I should tell you…”

“I should tell you…”

“Well, here we go,” they sang together.

“Who knows where?
Who goes there?
Who knows?
Here goes…”

Spinning them around so that Buffy was against the wall, Spike lowered his head and captured her mouth in a fervent kiss, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck as her arms tightened around his waist. They surfaced breathless, singing to each other in desperate, husky voices.

“Trusting desire, starting to learn
Walking through fire without a burn
Clinging - a shoulder, a leap begins
Stinging and older, asleep on pins
So, here we go…”

“Buffy?”

The pair broke apart reluctantly at the sound of Dawn’s voice. “Willow’s ready now,” she mumbled, before ducking back inside, her cheeks burning, muttering something about how the two of them were going to be unbearable now.

Grabbing his gun, Spike followed Buffy back into the warehouse, coming to a stop hovering over her shoulder, his fingertips subtly grazing her arm, as though he valued even the slightest contact with her.

“We’re ready?” Buffy confirmed. Willow nodded. Picking up her own rifle, Buffy returned the nod, giving her friend the signal to begin.

“It… it’ll probably help if we’re all… touching,” Willow said.

Shuffling into a tighter circle, they all extended their hands, clutching weapons as they held on to one another. Willow closed her eyes, sending out a telepathic call to Tara.

‘I’m here,’ came the reply.

Chanting out loud as Tara chanted along in her head, Willow reached out mentally, joining their power together as Tara channeled her own magic into the spell through their connection. There was a rushing sound, and when she opened her eyes, they were all standing in a dark, candlelit hall with gray marble walls.

“We’re inside,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, in case there were minions nearby.

The rest of the group looked around, taking in the maze of intersecting hallways, each speckled with wooden doors leading to unknown rooms. “Which way?” Buffy asked.

Willow closed her eyes again, trying to sense Tara through the telepathic link, using her as a beacon to guide the way. She spun slowly in a circle until the feeling was strongest. “There.” She pointed.

Buffy and Spike approached the door first, guns at the ready. Cautiously, Buffy crept forward, pulling on the door handle while Spike kept his rifle trained on whoever they might find on the other side. The door wouldn’t open.

Buffy pulled harder. “It’s locked,” she said, as the rest of them relaxed slightly at the anti-climax. Backing up a few steps, Buffy gave the door a powerful kick… and promptly stumbled backwards when it refused to give under the force of her foot. Giving it a perplexed look, she crouched slightly, and then charged at the door, driving her shoulder into it with brute Slayer strength.

“Ow,” she pouted.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Come on, Slayer. On three.” Taking up side-by-side positions, Spike counted off, and the two of them kicked simultaneously, but to no avail.

“Stand aside, ladies and gents,” Xander said, pulling out his pistol and firing three quick shots at the door handle. The lock shattered, Buffy was able to push the door open easily, revealing a winding staircase. Spike ran up a few steps and leaned into the center of the spiral to see how far up it went.

His eyes widened. “Red? Any way you can magic us up these steps?”

The rest of them gathered on the stairs, peering up dejectedly at the seemingly endless spiral.

“I don’t think so,” Willow said with a sigh. “I’m pretty beat. Maybe… maybe myself, but…”

“Guys?” Buffy called from the doorway. “We got company.”

Spike leapt past the others to see five minions heading their way. “Start running!” he instructed the Scoobies, taking up a position in the doorway next to Buffy. “Buffy and I’ll hold ’em off.”

They were able to pick off two with the rifles before the other three overwhelmed them, knocking the rifles aside to get in a couple good kicks. Buffy managed to hold onto her gun, smashing it against the temple of a minion’s enormous dummy head. Spike took on the other two, sweeping the legs out from under one of them while jabbing the butt of his gun into the stomach of the other. They quickly dispatched their hobbled opponents and piled all five of the bodies against the door in a makeshift barricade, then fled up the stairs after the rest of the group.

With supernatural speed, they caught up in no time, flying past the mere humans to take the lead before slowing so as not to leave them behind. After about three hundred or so steps, Giles was flagging, and Xander’s breath was coming in short gasps. “Shoulda… worked out… more…” he panted, turning his sheepish, red-faced expression toward his fiancée.

“You’d think all the running for our lives we do, we’d have more endurance,” Anya observed.

“My thighs are burning,” Dawn whined.

“Stop, guys,” Buffy said, reaching out a hand to hold Spike back before he dashed on ahead of them, oblivious to the tired humans. “We need to stop. Are you guys okay?”

Giles leaned heavily on the railing. “Certainly. Ah, does anyone know what a heart attack feels like?”

“Giles!” Buffy cried, before realizing he was teasing. “Maybe we should, um… Spike and I can go on ahead, and you guys just follow behind at your own pace. Remember, there may be a battle up there. We can’t be exhausted when we reach the top.”

“I’m gonna try teleporting again,” Willow said.

Buffy looked at her. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It can’t wear me out any more than the Stairmaster from hell here. I’ll meet you at the top,” she said, just before she disappeared with a pop.

Spike and Buffy shrugged at each other, and then started up the stairs again, leaving the rest of them to follow as best they could.

Willow reappeared inside the bright throne room, which was surprisingly empty, save for the two figures seated on the matching thrones at one end of the room.

“Tara!” Willow’s eyes welled with tears at the sight of her lost lover. She started to rush toward her, but a booming voice from the seat next to Tara stopped her in her tracks.

“Well, well, well,” Sweet crooned. “If it isn’t the wicked witch of the west.”