This story takes place shortly after the season finale of season 5, after the Glory storyline. It is the fourth in the "Spike & Cerberus" series, and is slightly a Sandman{(c) Neil Gaiman & D.C Vertigo} & very much a Moulin Rouge {(C) Baz Lurhman/20th century Fox, with song lyrics (c)their respecive owners (if you INSIST that I list you here, I will, just say so, otherwise we'll be here all day!)} crossover... *whew*...
 

Spike didn't want to go to the movies. He certainly didn't want to see a musical. And he especialy didn't want to see some scottish pretty-boy perform in a show about a time period he had once looked upon as the "good ol' days". But the Nibblet wanted to go, and he couldn't deny her anything.

 Well, all right, he was a bit keen on anything that David Bowie had a hand in.

 So that's how Spike found himself seeing "Moulin Rouge" at the local theatre. And how he found himself having the strangest dream of his existence, dead or otherwise.

 When the house lights went up, he quickly dried his eyes and prayed no one noticed.

 "So *sniff*, what did you *sniff* think?" Dawn asked, not the least bit ashamed of the tear trails on her face.

 "That was fantastic!" Tara handed a tissue to Willow.

 "I don't understand what the big deal was! Obviously she should have chosen the duke at the START. Then she might have cured the consumption before it got to bad. Now she's dead and NObody is happy." Anya pouted, hers the only eyes that were dry; even Xander looked a bit misty and Giles blew soundly into his handkerchief.

 "I don't think it was that simple to cure, luv," Spike informed the ex-demon.

 "So what did YOU think of it?" Dawn asked him pointedly.

 He shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant. "Bloody awful ending, wa'n't it?"

 Xander raised a brow. "Sooo... does that mean you like the REST of it?"

 Spike made a sound of disgust. "NO-OO!" The group collectively crossed their arms and offered him the "yeah, right, tell me another one" look.

 "Well, all right, so I liked the funny bits."

 They didn't move.

 "The FUNNY bits!... Aannnn'maybesom'fthemusic..."

 Dawn giggled, and he shook a finger at her face. "SOME of it. Now not another word." He turned, and began the trek up the stairs toward the exit. He stopped after a few steps, sensing they were having a jolly at his expense. He turned quickly, and they smoothed their faces, but not fast enough for him to not have noticed the grins. "NOT. ANOTHER. WORD."

 And he left without turning again. He made it all the way back to the crypt without realizing they didn't follow. He felt a pang, but wouldn't call it loneliness. When he opened the crypt door, it was forgotten.

 Cerberus was in usual doggy form, jumping and pawing and barking happily at seeing his friend. Spike reflected that maybe it was better the Scoobies WEREN'T there, so they wouldn't be able to laugh at his soft side yet again. He got down on the floor with the dog and gave Cerberus a vigorous scratching. Then they started to wrestle playfully. Once Cerberus was riled up, he ran to get his ball. Spike threw it out into the cemetery. The dog went after it and brought it back, but wouldn't give it up. Fetch had turned into tug of war. Spike managed to wrestle the now-slippery-with-slobber thing free, and threw it again. This went on for a while, untill Cerberus decided he'd had enough, and laid down with his belly up for another good scratch.

 Yes, it would be entirely embarrasing for Spike if he knew someone was watching their wholesome antics. But then again, it felt nice to have someone to come home to, who looked forward to his return. Someone to curl up with in the cold crypt as he listened to the radio, which lulled them both to sleep. Funny, he didn't remember turning it on... It was playing "Lady Marmalade", from "Moulin Rouge".

 He had locked his crypt door, but doors were nothing to the one who watched him.
 

 And there was another face in the crowd he felt he should know, one hidden by a cloak so that he only caught glimpses. When he could see it, it kept changing, sometimes a very ugly man, sometimes a beautiful woman, sometimes with curly, fair hair, and sometimes silken black. And sometimes he felt he didn't know the face at all, and other times he felt like it was a mirror. He felt ill to look at it, but couldn't pry his eyes away untill it was lost in the crowd. Then he was swept up in the music, and the darkness was forgotten.

 Spike knew he should have been shaking the Scoobies and demanding to know what was going on. He also knew he should have been wondering how the inside of the Bronze had gotten so big. Instead he found himself sitting down at one of the booths, enjoying himself. It had been a long time since he'd lost himself in such a crowd. A bark from across the table drew his attention from the madness.

 It was Cerberus. "She ith coming!"

 "WHO is coming?" It didn't occur to him to ask the dog how it was he could talk, or how it was he was sitting and holding a glass like a man.

 The dog smiled and held out his glass. "Have thome!" A bit of thick, red liquid sloshed out in the wooden table.

 Spike did as he was told, his question forgotten. The drink was like nothing he'd ever had, like a kiss in a glass. He felt a flush of warmth and didn't even realize he'd been cold. He drank deeply, and felt he had never known life before this. The glass empty, he looked about for more.

 He spied a woman. He thought she was far away, but after a moment he realized she was just very small-- and right in front of him.

 She had tiny black wings that sparkled like the darkest star-filed sky, and wore a black gown that looked something like she'd flown into a spider's web. Her nails were black, her hair, her lips, and her eyes, all spakling like her wings. He found himself getting lost in those eyes, found himself hungry for her lips which he realised wern't black at all, but a deep red like old blood.

 He was about to kiss her when he was blinded, by a brilliant light. His eyes adjusted, and he saw not the black faery in front of him, but a giant mosquito. The mosquito vanished in a flit of flame. He felt both terribly sad and terribly relieved by the loss.

 He turned his attention to the source of the light. It was a girl, no, a woman, spinning though the air, as if she was jumping through jelly. She landed lightly on her feet, so lightly that he wasn't sure she was not still floating. She was dressed in gold, webbed about her like the faery's gown had been. The gold shone so brightly it seemed she glowed from within. He could feel the warmth of her light, and it was a thousand times warmer than the drink had been.

 She was singing, he realised. Her voice became all he could hear in the crowded room. She sang to the masses, telling them how she would kill them all, smiling as she did. He felt like she was only singing to him. He found he wanted nothing more in the universe than for her to kill him,as she promised. She approached him. She held up her microphone, and he saw it was a wooden stake. She pushed him to the ground and straddled him. She was signing about LOVE, he realised, not death. Or maybe they were the same thing, he thought, as she plunged the stake into his heart.

 But just as soon as it was done, she turned away. Something was drawing her away from him as surely as he was now being drawn to her. He rose to his feet and pulled the stake from his chest. It wasn't a stake at all, he found, but an arrow. The blood that soaked the front of his shirt formed a heart. He laughed, and found the sound was filled with bells.

 Cerberus tugged at his coatsleeve. He smiled down at the dog, who stood on two legs and was dressed in a tux.

 "Who is she?" Spike asked.

 "Yew know Ewizabeth! And yew awso know yew awe not the only one who wanth hew." The dog gestured to the table behind theirs. The dark figure was seated there. Spike felt a chill, and for just a moment found himself cramped inside a long box that smelled of earth. Then the crowd was about him again.

 He saw Cerberus wiping a dark red liquid from the dark figure's shirt. He looked wildly about for his golden beauty, and found her on the stage next to Giles. Giles was pointing his way. The girl peered at them. Suddenly he found Cerberus wiping at the blood on his OWN shirt now.

 "It ith a contetht between yew and that one ath to who wiw win hew. But I have made awangementh to hewp yew. The stowy CAN be wewitten."

 He was about to ask the little dog what he meant when he found himself looking at the outside of his crypt door. Something told him this should have been odd, but he didn't question it. He just opened the door and stepped inside.

 It wasn't his crypt; at least, not tha way he'd left it. It was decorated something like Dru would have done, with silks and candles, but cheerier somehow. He didn't bother to ask who Dru was.

 SHE was waiting there. "Elizabeth," he breathed, and he knew that wasn't quite right. He wasn't sure if his doubts refered to breathing or her name.

 She smiled, her eyes smoldering. He suddenly found he was fightened. He moved to sweep his hair back from his own eyes and noticed absently that his hair was longer and a bit darker than it had been earlier that night. He was also wearing clothes that were about a century behind the times, rather than his trademark duster.

 He didn't care. All he cared about was the way she looked at him, and trying to find the courage inside himself to do domething about it. He might have also noticed that Cerberus was hanging outside the window, but again didn't care. But he did listen.

 "Tew hew the poetwy!"

 "Uh.. I-t's a little bit funny..."

 "What is?" she giggled.

 "This.. this feeling..." he blushed. "insi-" his voiced cracked. "-inside."

 "Oh, well I can take care of that!" and she began to undo his belt.

 He wrestled out of her grasp, heart racing. "I-Im not one of th-those who can.. easliy hi-hide!"

 She put her hands on her hips and gave him a playful, reprimanding look. "You're certainly determined to give it a good go, though, aren't you!" She grabbed ahold of him again.

 "I don't have much money..."

 "It's your BLOOD I'm after!"

 "I-I don't have much of that either! But If I did, I'd... buy a big house, where we both could live!"

 She gave him a blank look. "HUH?" she added for emphasis.

 He managed to squirm out of her grasp while she was distraced. "I-if I were a... SCLUPTOR..." He thought about it, then shook his head. "But then again, noo..." His face lit up with an idea, and he approached her, excited. "Or a MAN, who makes... poitions! In a... TRAVELLING show!"

 She stepped back, looking a bit disgusted. She sat down on the bed, dejected. She pulled an emry board out of nowhere, and set to fling her nails.

 He looked crestfallen. He hung his head, eyes divided between her and the floor. He shruged, helplessly. "I know it's not much, but... it's the best I can do!"

 She ignored him.

 Desparate, he got much louder. "MYYYY gift is myyyyy so-oo-ong!"

 That got her attention. She stopped and stared at him, puzzled.

 "And.. this one's.. for you" he breathed. He sat down next to her.
 

"And you can tell eeev'ry body

 this is your so-o-ong

 It may be qui-ite simple bu-ut

 now that it's do-o-one

 I hope y' don't mind

 I hope y' don't mind

 That I put down in wooooords...

 How wonnnderfuhlife is..

 When you're in the worrrrld..."
 

She had remained still, the only movement the glistening of tears in her eyes, but now she stopped him with a finger to his lips. She shook her head sadly. "I'm not IN the world anymore," she told him. "I belong to THAT one."

 She pointed to a corner that was not lit by the candles. Out of it stepped the dark figure. Spike stepped in front of her, protectively.

 "YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!"

 "I already do." The figure said, in a hundred voices he knew and despised. The figure pulled back it's hood. It was a goth chick, one he was sure he'd never seen before, yet was also certain he knew.

 "Suwey befow yew wewe meant tew, sithtew deaw." It was Cerberus.

 The dog transformed. Not a gradual change. One moment, it was Cerberus, the next a lanky young man with blond hair in a robe.

 The goth girl's eyes narrowed at this new prescence. "She CHOSE this, Daniel."

 "A hasty decision. Shall all the world suffer for it?"

 "IT IS ALREADY WRITTEN! It is in our dear brother's book!"

 The one called Daniel shrugged. "The past is set in stone, but the ink still dries on the future. All the miracles this girl has been privy to, that she herself has been party to... what's one more miracle?"

 The goth pursed her lips. Then "If SHE wants it. She HAS to want it."

 Daniel smiled. He looked at Spike. "It's up to YOU now. YOU must convice 'Elizabeth' that your world is worth returning to."

 Spike felt the desparation sweep over him again, threatening to drown him. It seemed a familiar sensation, like the caress of an old friend. It took everything he had to not give in. He HAD to get her to listen.

 "Elizabeth, I LOVE you! PLEASE come back! We need you!"

 "Hah! LOVE? How could you love, you don't even have a SOUL. What can you offer me? What kind of life could I have with you, when you aren't even ALIVE?!"

 He grabbed her arms and pulled her close. "YOU make me alive! You make me a better being BECAUSE I love you! I stopped being a monster, and so did Angel, for love of YOU! Love is a many splendored thing, love keeps us together, love lifts us up where we belong, all you NEED is love! Not blood, LOVE!"

 Elizabeth rolled her eye sand shrugged out of his arms. "Puhlease."

 "Allll you neeeed is looove!" he sang.

 "A girl has got to eat.." she replied, walking out of the crypt and into the graveyard.

 "Allllll you neeed is lo-O-ove!" he continued, following.

 "I'll not be a vamp on the street!" she told him.

 "All you neeeed is lo-OO-oo-oove!"

 She stopped and faced him. "Love is just a game to you!" she poked him the chest.

 "I was made for lovin you baby, and you were made for lovin me!"

 "The only way that you know love baby is if you were to DRAA-AIN me!" She continued to walk.

 "Just one night, give me just ONE night!" he followed, tripping over a low tombstone.

 "There's no waaay, 'till you can face thee daaaay!"

 "In the naaame of love! One niiiight in the name of lo-oove!"

 "You craaaazy fool! I won't..." she stabbed his chest with a finger, "give in... to you!"

 "Don't," he took her back in his arms, "leave me this wa-a-ay! I can't surviiiive... without your sweet love, oh baby," he breathed into her hair, "don't.. leave me this way!"

 "You'd think that people had had enough of silly love songs!"

 He laughed. "I look around, and I see it isn't so! Oh, no!"

 "Some people wanna fill the wooorld with silly love songs..." she breathed, as his lips drew near hers.

 "Well what's wrong with that?" he whispered. "I'd like to know..."

 She realised what she was about to do and pulled away.

 "...cause here I go," he bit back his frustration, his voice raising, "agaaaaaAAAIN.... Love lifts us up where we belo-o-ong!" he argued. "Where eaaagles fly!" He waved a hand skyward. "On a mountain hiiigh!"

 "Love makes us act like we are fools! Throw our liiives awaaaay, for onnne happy daaay!" she retorted bitterley, eyes filling with tears. She turned away.

 "WE COULD BE HEROOOOES!"

 That caught her. She turned back to him, eyes uncertain.

 "Just for one day..." he continued.

 "You," she protested, "You will be mean!"

 "No," he laughed, "I wont!" And somehow they both knew he spoke truth.

 She still tried to fight it. "And I.. I'll DRINK all the time!"

 "I think that's my job, love..." he murmered. "WE SHOULD BE LOVERS!" He declared, his fear gone.

 She shook her head sadly. "We can't do that."

 "We should be lo-OO-overs! And that's a fact!" he insisted.

 "No, nothiiing would keep us togetheeer!"

 "We could steal tiiime just for one day! We could be herooooes, forever and eveeeeer!" He sang it again, cradling her head in his hands, forcing to to listen and accept. "WE COULD BE HEROOOOOOES, FOREVER AND EVEEER!

 Her resolve fell under the assault of his enthusiasm, and she found herself singing with him. "We could be heroooooes, forever and eveeeeeer..."

 He told her,"... just because IIIIII-ee-IIIII will always LOOOOOOOVE-" It felt so good to say it this way, to be holding her and have her return the feelings with her eyes.

 And then she joined it him. "YES, IIII-ee-IIIII-ee-IIIIIIIIIIII CAAAN'T HELP LOOOOVIIING..." "...yooooou!" they sang together.

 "... How wonderful life is... when you're in the world..." she whispered, lips just moments from his.
 

And then he woke up with a start, sweating and panting. When he realised it was just a dream, he let out a howl that sent little children walking past the graveyard on their way to school screaming for their mothers.

 Spike felt cold and empty as he watched the sun crawling along the floor, pushing it's way through the slats that bordered his window. Cerberus whined and licked the tears from his friend's face. Spike smiled halfheartedly at the well-meaning little critter.

 Then he realised the radio was still playing.

 "Iiii wiiill love youuuuu untill the eeend o-of tiiime..." the song whispered.

 His heart wrenched. It sounded just like Buffy. Then he thought he saw her, standing in the sun, out of the corner of his eye. But of course, when he looked, nothing was there but floating dust. The music had stopped too. He looked at it, and found the radio wasn't turned on. It wasn't even warm from use. He opened the battery compartment, and found a note inside.

 "Spike-" it said in a teen's scrawl, "I hope you don't mind, my walkman's battery died, so I borrowed these! Thanks! Luv, Dawn."

 He looked to his dog, remembering the role the animal had played in his dream.

 "Boy... did you?..."

 Cerberus only lolled his tongue and wagged his tail happily.