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It's Only Forever—Not Long At All                                                Chapter   1   3   4   5   6   7   8

by spikeNdru

BtVS/Labyrinth Crossover, Written for the Choose Your Author Ficathon.

 

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Chapter Two:  Lost and Lonely

No one felt much like going out, so Xander called to have a pizza delivered.  Dawn nibbled on a slice to be polite, but

she wasn't really hungry and it tasted like greasy cardboard to her.  The bell jar was back.

As soon as possible, she excused herself to go to what Xander euphemistically called the 'guest room' and Anya referred 

to as 'the closet'.  It was large enough to hold a double bed, nightstand with lamp and chest of drawers, and if there wasn't

much 'walking around' space, that didn't really matter.  Also, there were no windows, and for some reason, that made her feel

safe and cocooned, rather than claustrophobic.

Dawn heard the soft murmur of Xander's and Anya's voices as they watched TV, but felt no desire to join them.  She might

as well get ready for bed and then read until she got sleepy.

Read!

She remembered that she had brought that old book of her mom's from home.  Dawn sat on the edge of the bed and reached

for her shoulder bag.  She opened the clasp, flipped back the top of her bag and there it was; the burgundy leather burnished

with a ruby-like glow in the soft lamp-light.

The Labyrinth, by A.C.H. Smith was embossed in gold script on the spine, and she drew the book out and held it in her 

hands.  She traced the Celtic-maze-like design - The Labyrinth - that's what the design is - with her fingertips.  She heard the

sound of the wind increasing, and looked up to see the French glass doors to the balcony blow open.

Balcony?  French doors?  Whoa!  There are no French doors in this room . . .

The pure white owl she had seen earlier glided into the room and she saw lightning flash and, seconds later, heard a loud clap

of thunder.  As her eyes adjusted after the brilliant sear of the lightning, she saw a being framed by the open French doors,

his cloak billowing behind him in the wind.  He wore knee-high boots, skin-tight riding pants and a sort of pirate-y shirt.  His

hair looked like Tina Turner's 80's 'do on a bad day and should have been laughable, but somehow wasn't.  His eyes bore into

hers with an intensity that made her shrink back.  Not in fear - not in fear, she wasn't afraid of him - but it felt like he knew

her innermost thoughts and feelings and could see into her very soul.  And that was kind of intimidating - and possibly a bit

creepy.

He turned his wrist, and a crystal ball of some kind appeared in the palm of his hand.  It appeared from out of nowhere.  One

second it wasn't there and the next, it just was.

"Wh-who, or possibly what, are you?" Dawn asked, squaring her shoulders as she sat up straighter on the edge of the bed.

"I am the Goblin King.  I thought you'd know that."  He gestured to the book in her hands.

Dawn clutched the book tighter.  "What do you want?"

The Goblin King tossed the crystal sphere into the air where it continued to spin lazily above his head.  "What do I want?"  He

crossed his right arm over his body and cupped his left elbow in his palm.  He tapped the side of his face with his forefinger.

"What do I want?  I want to make you happy, of course.  I want to give you your heart's desire."

"No one can do that!"  Dawn said harshly.

"Are you so very sure?" asked the Goblin King, as he tilted his head and raised one eyebrow.  He looked so much like Spike when

he did that, that Dawn leaned toward him involuntarily.  He even sounded like Spike. 

"Yes-s-s-s," Dawn answered, but she didn't sound at all sure.

The Goblin King reached above his head and the crystal ball floated into his and.  He held it out to her.  "I've brought you a

gift," he said.

Dawn looked at him suspiciously.  "What is it?"

"It's a crystal: nothing more.  But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams.  But this isn't a gift

for an ordinary girl . . ."

"Don't worry about that.  I'm not an 'ordinary girl'.  If I was, none of this would have ever happened.  It's all my fault . . . it's

all . . ."

Tears ran down Dawn's cheeks as she looked at the Goblin King.  "Buffy!"  The cry was torn from her constricted throat.

Jareth stepped closer to her and reached out a hand to smooth back her hair. 

"Do you want it?"  He asked, as he held the crystal out to her.

Dawn cupped the crystal in her hands and looked into it.  She saw her mother and Buffy, laughing and talking.  Joyce put her

arm around Buffy's shoulder and pulled her close.  Buffy looked up at Joyce, and her eyes shone with happiness.

"Yes."  Dawn stated decisively.  "Yes, I do."

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Selected Jareth dialogue from the 1986 film, The Labyrinth.

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"I'm bored.  I don't want to watch TV anymore.  I want to have sex with lots of orgasms instead.  Surely Dawn is asleep by

now?  It's been two 'Law and Orders' and a documentary on sharks since she went to bed."

Xander lifted his arm from where it had been curved around Anya and stretched.  She raised her head from his chest and

looked at him inquiringly.

"Lemme go check on her . . . make sure she's comfortable."

“And asleep?”

“And asleep.”

“And then the orgasms?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“But what if she's not asleep?”

“I'm sure she's asleep by now, Anya.”

Xander stood and gently tapped on the door of the guest room/closet.

“Don't knock!” Anya hissed. “You'll wake her up!”

“I can't just barge in on her,” Xander whispered back.

Xander turned the door knob and quietly opened the door. It took all of three seconds for him to realize that Dawn wasn't in the room at all. He turned to Anya with a look of shock on his face.

“She's gone!”

“What do you mean gone? She can't be gone. Where could she go?” Anya pushed past him to look for herself. “She is gone! But we were right here—she didn't go past while we were watching TV. How can she be gone?”

“I don't know—but I think we'd better call Giles.”

“Two 'Law and Orders', sharks and Giles? If she was going out, you'd think she'd have the courtesy to tell us. We could have been having sex hours ago!”

“Not the point, Anya. She didn't go out—there's no other way in or out of the guest room except this door, right here, and she didn't come through this door. She just . . .”

“Disappeared?”

They looked at each other.

“I'm calling Giles.”

Anya sighed. “I'll make a pot of tea.”

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Giles arrived, looking more disheveled than Xander had ever seen him, and more disreputable than he had ever wanted to see Giles look.

Giles was Giles. Book-Man. The grown-up. The one who knew stuff and how to fix things and make them right—or as right as they could ever be again. Not this sad, broken man reeking with the scent of grief and failure and Lagavulin. Anya took one look at him and went to the kitchen to make coffee, instead of tea.

Giles sank wearily into the over-stuffed chair, removed his glasses and began to polish them. He sighed.

“All right, Xander, I'm here. What is the big emergency necessitating my presence at—” he turned his right wrist and squinted blearily at the dial of his analogue watch. “—1:35 in the morning?”

“What's the difference what the emergency is?” Anya asked as she stepped into the living room from the kitchen. “It's not like you were sleeping or anything. You probably haven't slept—or eaten—since Buffy died.”

Two sets of appalled eyes stared at her, shocked that she had actually said the words they were all studiously avoiding saying.

“And I'm sure you're supposed to eat after someone dies,” she continued. “I looked it up after Joyce died. Friends and family are supposed to get together and have ham and casseroles and several different kinds of Jello. It's a ritual. And we haven't done it yet so that's probably why everything is falling apart. I think we should do the ritual as soon as we get Dawn back.” She turned to Giles. “What flavor Jello do you prefer?”

“Raspberry,” Giles answered automatically, then blinked as her previous words penetrated his Scotch-numbed brain. “Get Dawn back? Dawn is missing?”

Xander nodded. “That's why we called you.”

 

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Continue to Chapter Three

 

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