Summary: Post OMWF; What would happen if Sweet changed his mind and took Xander back to his world to be his bride?
Author's Notes: This one was sort of a dare to myself to see if I could actually do it. So bare with me on this one. It’s going to be fun. This is a song fic, but not in the way most of you expect. This is more like Moulin Rouge, where songs are taken and put into. . . yup, you guessed it, a musical. However, I am going to be changing more than a few lyrics, so you’re gonna have to pay attention. Also, as another note, I have not read any other stories set around OMWF, so any resemblance is not intentional. So without further ado. . . . Titles, quotes, song lyrics and music all belong to their respective owners. The titles of the songs and their composers will all be listed at the end in Liner Notes (just like an album or CD), so that no one’s overly spoiled for each chapter before it’s read. I mean absolutely no disrespect in shamelessly using all of them. I only hope I don’t get sued. Disclaimers, please gods, are in full force and effect. I own nothing. Just the twisted mind that brings all of this to you.
Previously: Sweet has departed Sunnydale, leaving the shocked Scoobies behind with the knowledge they tore a despairing Buffy out of heaven. This starts the morning after. . .Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: In case you haven’t guessed, this is not going to be overly heavy on the angst. I need a break from it, and I’m sure the rest of you are tired of getting nothing but angsty, heavy subject material from me. I’ve been having some problems with getting the other stories out, mainly because of the angst and well, I had this on the back-burner for – well, honestly, since before Writer-Con 2006 – and I’m only getting around to it now. What can I say, I let it boil for a long time. As you can also see, the endnotes will contain just what writers, composers and lyricists I’ve stolen these songs from. . . and well, I just hope none of them are Buffy fans or that the all-knowing ASCAP doesn’t come looking for me, coz I seriously cannot afford any lawsuits. I own nothing, the disclaimers tell me so. Just the twisted imaginings of my tortured mind. Heh. Enjoy.
Xander came to, rubbing his eyes and groaning softly. As always, it
took him more than a few minutes to gain awareness of himself and his
surroundings. Groggy and less than half-awake, he flopped back down on
the bed, fully expecting to find Anya curled up beside him. She wasn’t
there. At first it didn’t alarm him, until he rolled over and realized
he was not feeling the usually cotton-polyester blend and smell the
soft-cottony scent of the fabric softener Anya insisted on using. Nope, these aren’t our usual sheets. . . . maybe there was a sale?
He cracked opened one bleary eye, then bolted upright with a squawk. “What the hell?”
“Gooood morning, sunshine!” The voice sang out the words, and Xander
whirled around on the bed, twisting up the satin sheets and comforter.
He nearly fell over, unable to find purchase on the bedding, and ended
up on his side, propped up on his elbow.
“I meant to do that.”
“Sure you did, handsome.” The voice finally had a body, though Xander wasn’t quite sure that it comforted him at all.
“Where the hell am I? And where’s my girlfriend? What the hell is going
on?” The words exploded from him in a rush, and the apparition before
him merely waved a hand, urging him to quiet.
“First things, first, sweetie.” And it reached for the comforter,
tugging it away. “Oooohhh. Look at you! Yum. Too bad I can’t keep you
for myself.”
“Ah, there will be no keeping. None. I don’t even know where I am.”
Xander clutched the sheets to his chest like a blushing virgin and the
other just laughed.
“You silly, silly man.” Sashaying closer to the bed, the green-eyed,
light blue skinned demon leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper.
“You’re where you’re supposed to be, right here in our own little
corner of heaven.”
“What!” Xander scrambled back, not stopping until he got to the
headboard. “Oh, no, I’m not in heaven. I’m not dead. Tell me I’m not
dead. This is not happening. . . . Wait! This isn’t because I helped
Willow pull Buffy out of heaven is it?”
The demon laughed again, swishing around to the side of the bed Xander
was closest to. “No, silly. You aren’t in the real heaven, not really.
This is just. . . well, this is just what I like to call heaven. A
little singing, a little dancing. . . and a little va-va-va-voom. What
more could a body ask for?”
“Singing? Dancing? No. . . no. . . no. Singing and dancing are not
good.” Xander was shaking his head, denying what his eyes were telling
him.
The demon sat down on the edge of the bed, eyeing him coyly. “Oh,
honey, you’ll get used to it, everyone does. After all, you were the
one who asked for him to come get you.”
“What?” Xander’s voice emerged in a high-squeak, and he looked around
frantically. “I didn’t ask for anyone to come. . . oh, shit. Sweet
changed his mind.”
Clapping his hands merrily, the being laughed again. “Ooh, you are sooo smart! You’re going to make the best queen ever!”
“What! No! NO! I’m no one’s queen!”
“Just you wait! You’ll fit right in.” The demon pulled him from the
bed, not waiting to see if Xander gained his feet or fell flat on his
face. “First things, first. Gotta get you all prettied up and ready for
the ball.”
“What?! No. No. I’m not going anywhere near a ball. Not even a basketball. No balls for Xander.”
Snickering madly, the demon cupped the human’s groin. “Hhhmmm feels to me like you’ve got the goods, honey.”
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” Xander backed up, landing on the bed again. “No
touching! Don’t . . . “ His voice trailed off, confusion and fear
swirling in his dark eyes.
“Fine. I won’t touch you . . . There.” The demon waved a hand again,
then pursed its lips in a kiss. Twice. “My promise. But you have to get
ready. Sweet won’t be pleased if you’re a little late.”
“I really don’t care. I’m not going.” Xander crossed his arms over his
chest, then abruptly changed position when the demon sighed
theatrically.
“Come on, you big lug. It’ll be fun. I promise.” He started humming,
while he grabbed Xander’s hand and pushed him out of the room and into
an oversized bathroom. “Let's get down to business--to show off these
buns. Oh, it may take us a while, but you’ll be happy when we’re done.”
The demon pinched his ass, then pushed Xander onto the hairdresser’s
chair sitting in the middle of the room. He kept singing, though, which
was seriously beginning to scare Xander. “You’re the bestest so far
I’ve met, and you can bet before we're through, honey, I'll make a man
out of you!”
Whirling the chair around, the demon whipped out an apron, scissors and
hair-styling products, all the while singing his heart out. “Tranquil
as a forest, but on fire within. Once you find your center, you’ll be
finer than any sin.”
Xander could see the demon in the mirror now, standing behind him and
shaking his head at the state of his hair. “You're a fine mess, a work
in progress, and you haven't got a clue. Somehow I'll make a man out of
you!”
As the demon was about to start working on his hair, Xander threw out
his arms, and tried to get out of the chair. “I'm never gonna let you
finish! Stay away with those shears!”
“Just cause I fooled with a spell and gem. . . . “ Moving and dodging
about in the chair, Xander fought back the only way he could, by not
allowing the demon to get close to him. That worked, until he put both
hands on the arms, and from out of nowhere buckles and restraints
wrapped around his forearms, anchoring Xander to the seat. “Hey! Watch
out for my ears! No! That color is not right for me! I know this is a
dream, I’m completely in rem. . .”
Snippets of his hair traveled down the apron, pooling in his lap and
Xander looked up, scared out of his mind that the demon was going to
leave him bald. When the cut seemed to meet his approval, Xander
relaxed somewhat, only to tense when the demon started singing again.
“To be a man, you must be sleek as a swimming otter. To be a man, with
all the grace of dancing loon. To be a man, you really can’t be much
hotter. Just let me spray on some perfume.”
Once more Xander tried to dodge the demon, only to lose again. He was
drenched in cologne before he realized and cringed as the demon put his
face next to his, singing very softly, “Just take a real deep breath
and you’ll survive. Follow my lead and I’ll make sure you stay alive.
You’ll manage, just look at your eyes. So buck up, get it straight,
you’re here for good. How could I not make a man out of you?”
With a flourish and a swish of his hip, the demon whipped off the apron
covering Xander, allowing him the first look at his new hair-do. And do
it was. Somewhere between John Travolta in Grease and Johnny Depp in
that crazy weird movie by that freaky director – Xander never could
remember the name of the movie – Xander had a full blown panic attack
at the new look.
“What the hell did you do to me? I look like. . . . Geez, I dunno what
I look like, but it’s freaking me out!” He reached to mess up the
finely controlled waves, and jumped back when the demon hissed and
wrapped a very long tongue around his wrist and pulled.
“Oh, no you don’t. It took every ounce of skill I have to make that
coif work. Don’t you dare mess it up.” The demon pulled on his wrist,
almost pulling him out of the chair, then slapped Xander’s arm. “Leave
it alone.”
“I can’t go anywhere looking like this! I look like a freak!”
“Honey, you are so not ready to let your freak flag fly. There is way
too much work to do.” A deep sigh shook the thin demon’s chest, “But I
have faith. Oh, yes I do.”
Pulling Xander up out of the chair, the demon dragged him, protesting
all the while, across the room. The whole time, he was humming a tune
that Xander recognized but couldn’t name, which scared him even more.
So lost in trying to remember the name of the song, Xander didn’t
realize what was happening around him until he was faced with an
enormous tub filled with fragrant bubbles, and, presumably, lots of
scented water.
“OOOOH! Absolutely freaking no way in hell. Nahuh. No. Not now, not any
way, shape or form am I climbing in there.” Xander started backing
away, looking around wildly for the door.
The demon rolled his eyes, showing – of all things – red glitter eye
shadow and held onto his forearm tightly. “Sweetie. Honey. Great big,
honking hunk of delicious, you are so going in that tub. There is no
arguing. You,” and he sniffed dramatically, “are in desperate need of
some freshening up.”
Before he could come up with an escape plan, Xander found himself
stripped of his shirt, and strange fingers working on the button of his
sleep pants. “NO! Don’t touch me!”
Exhaling very loudly, the demon planted both hands on its hips. “What’s wrong? Haven’t you ever had someone give you a bath?”
“Yeah. When I was four.” Xander held onto his pants with a death-grip,
trying very hard to stare down the demon. “And it’s so not happening
now.”
“What’s the problem, sweetie?” Cocking its head to the side, in a move
that was very reminiscent of the vampire he hated and admired, the
demon contemplated him for a moment. “Oh! I know.” Right before his
eyes, the demon morphed into a female, with breasts and broader hips,
and more rounded facial features. “Is this more comfy for you?”
Xander squeaked, his voice breaking on a harsh note. “Strangely enough, no.”
Once more the demon reached for the waistband of his sleep pants.
“Look, we could do this alone, one-on-one, just vous et moi. Or, we
could waste time and valuable hot water by me getting some of the
minions to dunk you.” Two of the puppet-headed demons stepped into view
over the other demon’s shoulder and Xander took a step back. “But if we
do that, I’ll just have to do your hair all over again.”
Trying vainly to come up with some way out of his current predicament,
Xander was forced to realize he had little choice in the matter. One
way or another, he was going to have to get into that tub. . . Though
he really, really, truly didn’t want to. If he agreed, he could maybe
get the demon to let him get undressed on his own, without any help. .
. or interference. “Okay, just lemme do this myself, okay?”
“Sure thing, sugar lips. Doesn’t make me no never mind in how you get clean.”
“Just get them to leave. If I have to do this, I want as small an
audience as possible.” Xander stood resolutely by the tub, glaring at
the still female demon.
“Fine by me. They’ll just be gawking later. . . . “
A wave of his long-fingered hand, and the puppet demons left the
doorway, leaving the two of them alone. “Want me to wash your back?”
“NO!” Xander waggled a finger in a circle. “Turn your back. And don’t look.”
Another deep sigh ripped from the demon. “Such tender sensibilities.”
Then, he whirled around, facing away from Xander. Muttering under his
breath, the demon forced himself not to laugh when Xander didn’t notice
the eyes in the back of his head open. “Those won’t last long around
here.”
Waiting until he heard the tell-tale splash of water indicating Xander
had gotten into the tub, the demon finally turned around, trying to
keep a straight face. “You sure you don’t want me to wash your back?”
Willow flipped through the books, looking for a spell or incantation
that would lead them to where ever Sweet had taken Xander. She wasn’t
holding out much hope, though, because she kept getting sidetracked by
the whistling and humming. If Giles whistled One Night in Bangkok one
more time, she was going to scream. Anya was no better, humming and
breaking out into random lines of songs. The only saving grace was
Tara, who kept stroking her back whenever the music got to be too much.
It wasn’t until Dawn started singing that Willow finally lost her patience.
“Enough!” She slapped her hands down on the table, dislodging books and
shifting notes all around. Her hands stung from the force and she
flapped them in the air while making a face. “I can’t concentrate with
all this different humming and whistling.”
Dawn prickled at her tone. “Gee, Willow, it’s not like any of us can really help it. Under a spell, remember?”
“It wouldn’t be so bad if it was all the same song!” She looked around,
waving a finger at everyone present. “Giles is humming the same thing
over and over, and the monotony is making me crazy. Anya keeps changing
tunes, and I’ve been spending so much time trying to remember names and
song lyrics that I can’t focus on what I’m supposed to be doing!”
“Well, excuse me.” Dawn exaggerated the words, then sat back in her chair and stared at the red head.
“Ladies, please. I apologize, Willow, if we’ve distracted you from
research. I wasn’t even aware I was humming.” Giles at least had the
grace to look apologetic, something the other’s expressions lacked
completely.
“I can’t stop! I’ve tried all day to stop singing and nothing’s
working. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep my mouth
shut?” Anya balled her fists and stamped her feet. “Every time I open
my mouth, I’m afraid I’m going to burst into a show tune.”
Willow rolled her eyes, and for once bit her tongue, choking on the
retort that she wanted to fling at Anya. That didn’t stop her from
thinking it, though. “Look, if you want Xander back you have to just
give me five minutes. Just five.”
The others shared a look and nodded their heads. Willow breathed a sigh
of relief, saying, “Good. Thanks. Coz’ you know, we’ve got magic to do.”
No one noticed the slightly crazed look enter Tara’s eyes, and none of
them was prepared when her voice broke into the sudden silence. “We've
got magic to do – just for you. We've got miracles yet to play. We've
got parts to perform – to get back to norm. Demons and things to take
by storm! As we go along our way.”
Horrified green eyes met Tara’s confused blue, and Willow couldn’t stop
from gaping at her girlfriend. “Did you just. . . No. You didn’t. You
couldn’t have. I wouldn’t. . . I asked specifically. No. More. Singing.”
With a somewhat guilty look, Giles stood behind Tara and dropped a hand
on her shoulder in support. His nice baritone meshed wonderfully with
Tara’s soft soprano and despite her growing anger, Willow had to admit
they sounded very nice. “Join us – leave your books and ledgers.”
To her complete chagrin, the other two joined in to sing the next part.
“Join us – leave your search for power. Join us – come and waste an
hour or two.”
“Please, really, no more singing.” Willow groaned softly into her
hands, desperately fighting her need to add her own terrible voice to
the song.
All four of them sang the chorus again, with Dawn and Anya linking
hands and performing a sort of crazy, slow dance. “We've got magic to
do – just for you. We've got miracles yet to play. We've got parts to
perform – to get back to norm. Demons and things to take by storm! As
we go along our way.”
Without conscious thought, Willow found herself humming along.
The girls’ voices dropped to a soft humming, while Giles kept singing,
“Journey . . . Journey to a spot exciting, mystic and exotic. Journey,
though we haven’t got a clue. . . “
“Doodle-ee-doo.” Willow’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and
everyone stopped singing to stare at her when the nonsense words wafted
from her lips.
It took them all a beat or two, but they managed to recover and were
soon singing, “We've got magic to do – just for you. We've got miracles
yet to play. We've got parts to perform – to get back to norm. Demons
and things to take by storm! As we go along our way.”
Suddenly, Anya sang out, “Intrigue – plots to bring back Xander!”
Then Tara smiled at Willow and pointed, “Magic – handled by a master.”
“Romance – sex enacted enthusiastically!” Tara clapped a hand over
Anya’s mouth, trying to get her to stop while Dawn was in the room.
Once more Willow surprised everyone, when she warbled, “Dee-dle-ee-dee.”
Giles was the next to sing out, waving his hand in the air, to indicate magic. “Portals – doorways yet to study.”
But it was Dawn who brought them all back to reality. “Battles – barbarous and bloody.”
They all started crooning again, “We've got magic to do – just for you.
We've got miracles yet to play. We've got parts to perform – to get
back to norm.”
“What the bleedin’ hell is goin’ on?” Spike’s strident tones broke into
the song, as he and Buffy walked in from the training room. “Can’t
leave you lot alone for more than two hours an’ you’re all making like
a Busby Berkeley revue.” He looked around and let out a relived sigh.
“At least there’s no dancing girls.”
Giles cleared his throat, his eyes drifting right past Spike to glance
at Buffy, in hopes of seeing some reaction there. What he did see, gave
him a modicum of hope. There was a slight – very slight – hint of a
smile teasing her lips and Giles thought it was a good sign. Ever since
the night before, he’d been stricken with guilt over his decision.
While part of him felt it was best to return to England, another part –
an increasingly large part – was beginning to second guess that
decision. Maybe what Buffy needed wasn’t distance, but more help. He
watched, though, as she stayed close to Spike, refusing to even look at
– or speak to – Willow.
Caught in the act of singing, and very nearly dancing, the others
guiltily got back to the research. Dawn dropped Anya’s hands and warily
approached her sister. “Hey. How was patrol?”
“It was okay. Same old, same old.” Buffy shrugged, then paused.
Something seemed to occur to her and she looked at her sister, some
emotion flickering in her eyes. “Did you eat?”
“Yeah. We ordered pizzas.” Dawn brandished one of the boxes, lifting
the lid and finding a couple of slices still inside. “There’s some
left, you want it?”
Before she could say no, Spike grabbed the box. He leaned into Buffy,
speaking soft enough so the others couldn’t hear, “You should eat some,
pet. Belly’s been gurgling for a bit.”
More emotion flared in her eyes, and Giles mistook it at first for
anger, then realized it wasn’t when Buffy just nodded. “Okay.”
Well, that’s just bloody . . . How is it he can reach her when the rest of us can’t? Giles watched the vampire settle Buffy into a chair and offer the cold
pizza. As Buffy wrinkled her nose, he was further astounded when Spike
headed over to the microwave and shoved two slices in, hitting all the
correct buttons to reheat them. His attention was diverted when Willow
cleared her throat.
“I’ve figured it out.”
Less than an hour later, Willow, Giles, and Tara had all worked out the
details of the jump into Sweet’s dimension. Once they had that done, it
became a matter of who was going – everyone – which was decided when
none of them would stay back with Dawn. It was clear, if only to Spike,
that Buffy wasn’t happy about bringing Dawn, but none of the others
would stay behind with the teenager.
Knowing that she wasn’t about to argue with either Giles or Willow,
Spike pulled her aside. “Look, know you don’t want to put her in harm’s
way, but I’ll watch out for her.”
“This is not a good idea. Sweet wanted to take her just last night, you
think he’s gonna give up when we deliver her to his door?” Buffy glared
at him, arms crossed over her chest.
“Well, pet,” he paused and scratched at his forehead, “seems to me he’s
already conceded the point. Took the whelp, didn’t he?” Spike gestured
toward her sister. “If he wanted the girl, he would’ve taken her, yeah?”
“Oh.” Buffy stared up at him for a moment, then as the notion crept
into her brain, her eyes widened and she darted a glance over at Anya.
“OH! You mean. . . oh. You really think he would? I mean . . . Sweet?
And a guy?”
Spike snorted his amusement. “Slayer, if you learn nothin’ on this
trip, you’ll learn that a demon like Sweet, bein’ a hoofer an’ all,
swings both ways in the saddle.”
“That is so gross, Spike.” She wrinkled up her nose in that adorable way, and he reached out to flick it unthinkingly.
“You’re right cute, pet, when you’re playin’ all confused.” He
chuckled, then pointed to the weapons. “Might wan’ to get supplies
while we’re waitin’.”
“Yeah. What about other supplies? Food?”
Giles overheard the question and he nodded his head thoughtfully. “I
believe we should organize foodstuffs and perhaps – Anya?”
“Yes, Giles?” The former vengeance demon looked a bit surprised, but she cheerfully stepped to his side. “What is it?”
“Would you be able to get food and other items we might need in Sweet’s dimension?”
Obviously surprised at his request, Anya stared at the older man for a long minute. “Giles? Are you feeling okay?”
He stared right back and her, a bit put-out by her question. “I’m perfectly all right, why do you ask?”
“No one’s ever asked me . . . . sure!” She scurried over to the counter, then stopped abruptly. “Who’s paying for this?”
With an exasperated sigh, Giles said, “Take the funds from the till, I’ll write it off somehow.”
She was gone in a flash of heels and a smile.
Anya was back, armed with bags of supplies and backpacks that she
efficiently purchased in the 24-hour Walmart, long before Willow
perfected the portal opening. While opening the portal wasn’t all that
hard, it only took a specially sung set of notes, holding the portal
open for everyone was the tricky part.
It took three tries before she got it right, and when she finally did,
it was only with Tara anchoring her. Once that was done, they hastily
started repacking the supplies and weapons. Dawn was trying to help
Spike, but she was actually proving more of a hindrance, when he
finally exploded at her. “Niblet, what the bloody hell are you tryin’
to do?”
“I’m just trying to help. Don’t yell at me!” She stood right in his face, unafraid of his blustering.
“God, you suck!”
“Vampire, here, course I do.”
Dawn glared at him. “You know what I mean! Gah! I wanna help!”
“Zat why your heart’s poundin’ an’ you can’t sit still?” Spike pushed
her into a chair. “Sit. Don’ move. You’re doin’ more damage by tryin’
to help than if you weren’t.”
“That’s not fair!” The glare continued unabated, and now she threw an extra heated look in his direction.
“Don’ start that shite with me. I’m the bloke arguin’ for you to go,
an’ promisin’ to watch over you. So settle down an’ be grateful.” He
ignored the look, returning to his self-appointed task of stowing most
of the weapons on the biggest duffel bag. “Know you’re scared, bit, but
everythin’ ‘ll go right. We’ll get the whelp back.”
“Like you even care.” Her expression grew even more mulish, and Spike didn’t bother to hold back his sigh.
“I don’ care. But your sis does, an’. . . “
She turned a look on him that spoke volumes about her feelings on the
matter. Or at least the ones she was willing to admit to. “You are such
a loser.”
His next words were clipped, indicating more forcefully than any
yelling how tenuous a hold he had on his temper. “Don’t rightly care
what you, or anyone else thinks on the matter. Don’t have to do any of
this.”
He paused, finally looking at her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, ‘ll keep you safe.”
Dawn’s voice was little-girl soft, “Promise?”
“Yeah, in fact. . . “ Spike’s voice trailed off, and he began singing
softly, his voice low and gravely. “Say your prayers, little one, we’ve
gotta get, gotta run. We’re gonna have some crazy fun.”
Buffy caught the snippets of song, and she paused in her tracks,
listening to him sing. “Slide right through, Walk right in. Running
free and past the din. An’ the Slayer leads the way. Walk with one eye
open, gripping your weapon tight.”
Her head perked up, when Giles sang along, “Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand, off to never-never land.”
The older man’s voice dropped off, letting Spike continue on, though
off in the corner of the shop, Willow and Tara could be heard chanting
the words needed to open the portal. The vampire grabbed Dawn’s hand,
pulling her to her feet as he pointed her toward the swirling light.
“Stay alert, watch the light. Fighting’s heavy tonight, none of these
demons are Snow White.”
Giles picked up the tune easily, as he ushered the girls through the
portal. “Demons score, screams grow higher. Watch out for that dragon’s
fire! And all those demons bite. . . “
Together the two Englishmen sang, “Walk with one eye open, gripping your weapon tight!”
Spike gestured for Buffy to precede him. “Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand, off to never-never land!”
Buffy shared a look with Spike, and whispered words that felt right,
her eyes conveying more than she wanted to share with any of the
others. “Now I lay me down to sleep. Pray the lord my soul to keep. If
I die before I wake, pray the lord my soul to take.”
Nearly screaming the next words, Spike pulled her around to face him.
“Hush Slayer, don’t say those words! And never mind that noise you
heard, it’s just the beast under your blade, mind me now and duck your
head.”
He pushed her through the portal, then pushed Dawn through after. He
and Giles looked around, then as one, they stepped through the doorway,
their voices trailing off behind them. “Exit light. Enter night. Watch
that demon to your right! Exit light! Enter night! Take my hand, we’re
off to never-never land. . . . “
Liner Notes:
I’ll Make a Man Out of You – Mulan, composer: Matthew Wilder; lyricists: David Zippel; performed by Donny Osmond
Magic To Do – Pippin, music & lyrics by Stephen Schwartz; Original
Broadway production October 23, 1972; originally performed by the cast,
which included Ben Vereen, Jill Clayburgh, Irene Ryan and John
Rubinstein.
Enter Sandman – music by Kirk Hammett, Lars Ulrich, and James Hetfield;
lyrics by James Hetfield. From the eponymous album Metallica, 1991.
Points to anyone who recognizes the song Giles is humming; and extra
points to anyone who guesses the connection between Pippin and the
Whedonverse.
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