Unofficial

By Strange Bint

They only had one bike. The second-in Command Vampire Slayer and the second vamp with a soul were used to being first when it came to who drove the Harley cross country. So, rock paper Scissors to decide who rode bitch. Faith finally found someone that was a sorer loser than her. After a while she just let him drive, not due to his tantrums when he had to ride bitch, she kind of dug those, but because of how things changed. They couldn't talk when they rode on the bike. At first that silence was a freaking God-send. He never shut-up. She'd much rather hear the constant defiant engine roar as it sped past all those Macs or cars that wanted to be able to lay low and go fast so they drove from dead night to early morning. But, then his lame ass opinions and rants became something else--stories. His stories of his life and death and unlife and death and now his life. He was like a machine or the opposite of a machine. He never stopped fighting, feeling, loving, living. It was some fascinating shit.

Then he asked her more about her story. He asked what really happened. He said a girl just doesn't wake-up and decide to go bad and betray her friends. Well, maybe she was the first that did then. No, no he didn't buy that. Then she never would have went back to good again. He really wanted to know what happened. He said there had to be more to her than being able to go shot for shot with him, and knowing the original line-up of the Ramones, and stories of her in school-girl outfits and bull-whips--as interesting as all that was. She told him maybe what you see is what you get. That was all there was to her thank-you-very-much. She didn't have to tell him Jack. No one makes her do anything she doesn't want to do. He'd be the first man to complain, which made sense since he was one of the first ones that wasn't getting any from her.

Faith then told Spike she had been considering giving him some. After all she had never fucked a vampire before, and he would be a good opportunity for her to get to really know the enemy. But, then she decided against it because she remembered the look on B's face when she realized that Spike and Faith were the only available ones to recruit the "unofficial Slayers" in the United States. However, B would never let something as petty as jealousy of an Ex having to travel with an ex-ex-friend get in the way of the mission. B was the first Slayer in command and as always she was all about the good fight and the mission before anything else. That was all Faith told Spike who seemed to listen with amused interest, but then asked if B ever talked about him. She found herself lying and saying "yes." Faith rarely lied, to be nice anyway.

So, Spike and Faith's mission if they chose to accept it, as ordered down from the First Slayer and their quasi-friend, was to go and find all the "unofficial Slayers." It was a long story, but there used to be only one Slayer and then when she died another was called. Then there were two B, now the first in command, and Faith, the second, who had really been a mistake. She had made huge mistakes, but had cleaned up and earned enough cred and seniority to be second in command. Then, B's best-friend (not Faith) made a spell so that every girl that could ever be called to being a Slayer was a Slayer. That meant that there were these girls running around with super strength. B and all her buddies had found them and gave them the skinny and they joined the ranks to go to fight and learn by the side of B and her friends in their schools in Rome and Prague and England. B and her ol' pal Giles fundraised their asses off to get it all going. But, there were a few things that they missed, like some little chicks that became Slayers that didn't show up on their magic finding radar. Reports had come in from all over about girls with freaky strength. B called them the "unofficial Slayers." She sent people out to find them to see if they really were Slayers. These girls had to know how to handle their power and how to use it for good. They had to be given a heads up. Faith was not loving the title "unofficial Slayers." Why were the Slayers that B and friends had known about the only ones considered official? If these girls were Slayers, they were Slayers in Faith's book, whether anyone had found them or not.

When Spike and Faith got to the unofficial Slayers in the U.S. There was to be no pushing or prodding or dragging away in chains. There was merely to be an invite, and a real explanation to the parents if they didn't have their head so far up their ass that they wanted to listen. There was to be some fake cheesy story about a gifted school for girls for parents that didn't want to know the truth. They had fake pamphlets and real pamphlets, and of course, they always gave the kid the truth and a way to reach people. Basically, Faith and Spike were leather clad boarding school recruiters.

Spike was freaking horrible at talking to parents, at first Faith wasn't much better but she learned fast. Spike was good at knowing who was ready to hear the truth and who was not. Faith just wanted to tell the truth no matter what, and forget the whole gifted school thing. She learned from experience to listen to Spike. She'd rather face a thousand Uber-vamps than one more parent freaking out.

Then, they had found Samantha in Baltimore. She was only nine. Faith didn't think you could be a Slayer at nine. They had to corner her. She was like a wild animal. A really scared alley cat that Faith would try to make friend's with when she kept to the alleys. A really really strong scared alley cat. The homeless there called her the devil child, and it wasn't because she had red hair. She had a squatting house all to herself. Faith knew the type of place. A house where there were little holes in the floor because the acid from people pissing on it was starting to eat away at it. When they tried to get to Sam to talk to her she would break down the walls and the beams and throw them at Spike, who kept trying to get closer to her than Faith. Faith wanted to give her space.

"Stay away! Stay away! I am bad! I'll hurt you!" Sam screamed. She sure smelled bad and she looked even worse. Her long red hair was all clumped with dirt and her face was caked with it too.

Faith had eased the girl out of the corner and out of the house. She had no clue how. It was like some saintly spirit possessed her body. She wouldn't be able to tell the story of what was said, or in what order things went down, or when the magic moment was that Sam had turned around.

Faith could remember there was a beginning time. She had told Sam that she could smash the wall if she liked. She could tear the whole shit-ridden house down. She wasn't going to get in trouble. In fact, Faith suggested that they tear the whole place down because Sam wasn't going to live here anymore. It was time to go to a better place now, but no one was going to make her do anything she didn't want to do. She remembered encouraging Sam to yell and curse at the house and to the people who had hurt her even if they weren't there. Faith did tell Sam that people had hurt her body when she was a little girl. They said that Faith was bad, and Faith believed them because they were grown ups and the only people around. But they were wrong. Faith wasn't bad. They were bad. Faith told her that even though people told kids that monsters were fake, they were actually real, and they hurt people. Faith remembered she felt like she was lying when she said even though there were these monsters everything was going to be okay. Maybe this is where Spike stepped in and said that she was one of a bunch of special girls that were chosen to fight the monsters.

Then there was a middle time. Somehow they had gotten Sam to take a bath. She was a beautiful kid really, the kind with red hair and freckles that you see in commercials running in meadows with dogs. She watched "Passions" with Spike and after she saw the vamps on that cheese ass show she asked to see his vamp face. Faith remembered buying her clothes while Spike slept, and how Faith was almost afraid she would burst into flames by being out during the day. Sam wanted a Jay-lo sweat suit, Jay-lo jeans, Jay-lo everything.

Then there was an end. Sam had cried when she had to go with Giles's friends, but it was like a normal kid crying. She wasn't the devil girl screaming about how bad she was and throwing pieces of house at them. Faith smiled her Oscar winning fake smile and stuffed herself with too many pieces of pizza to keep her feelings down. Faith said that she wasn't leaving Sam. She promised that she would see her in one month when her mission was over. Giles's friends gave her a calendar and told her she could X off the days until she saw Faith.

About fifteen miles after the end of Baltimore, the end of her time with Sam, Faith had been shaking with tears. Spike had been driving. She hadn't bothered arguing about it. He stopped the bike. She told him to start it; she wanted no drama. He said it was dangerous to drive with her crying like that. She said that was the stupidest fucking thing she ever heard.

Then he went into some story about LA where there had been a crazed Slayer there. Faith knew nothing of this story, and she should have being the Second Slayer and all, but she wasn't shocked no one had told her. B had this other crazy Slayer taken to be under her care after Spike and Angel captured her. Spike told Faith how he tried to handle the girl, but he "bullocked" the whole thing up.

Spike told her he wished The Slayers had sent Faith to help instead of Andrew. Well, yeah! Why the fuck had B sent Andrew? Faith was surprised Andrew hadn't accidentally killed someone. Spike told her he almost had, but he came through in the end.

Spike said the point was he wasn't sure there was a chance for that particular crazed Slayer, but because of Faith there was more than a chance for Sam. Sam was saved. Faith wondered if there were more fucked up crazy Slayers. Spike said if there were that Faith would be the one to call. He told her she had done "brilliant" work and that she was a true hero. She tried to say if she was any kind of hero, or person, she wouldn't be leaving the kid with strangers, but instead she puked on him. It was the look on his face that made her start laughing. He looked nothing like a person who had just been puked on. He had a look on his face like she had just done something endearing like drew him a picture or bought him a drink. It was the oddest head-tilted sweet puppy dog face that really had no place in a being puked on situation.

"So, that made you feel better now?" he asked totally straight faced as if she wasn't laughing or if there wasn't reeking clay colored puke all over that duster she knew he loved.

The day after that she started to let him drive all the time.

"I can hear you on the bike," he told her that day, "So, anything you want to tell me, any questions that you want to ask. I'll always hear you, love." He had never called her that before that day, and then she wanted to always ride bitch so she could say things in his ear. He probably could have heard her from the front, but she became stuck to the idea of saying things in his ear.

How did he know she had questions? It didn't matter the point was she did. Questions- about things she was afraid to know, or was embarrassed she didn't know: Does B still hate me, you think? What was the other crazy Slayers name? You know Slayers still die. Not as often, but they do. When they die B and Giles send everyone letters about a requiem. What's a "requiem"?

It was So easy to ask when you weren't really asking. When you didn't have to hear your hard ass sounding voice giving a shit about any of it.

She spoke a few thoughts she was having. It was cool having them go out of her head and disappear on the road: I didn't know you could be a Slayer at nine. I figured the spell only started working when chicks got to be thirteen at least. Maybe it starts when you get your period. That sort of makes sense. I wish a girl that young wouldn't get her period. Men seem to know when a girl "becomes a woman" whether she's ready or not, and they start messing with you. They are attracted to the blood like fucking sharks. I wonder what happened to Sam's mom. I think if a Mom was there she would know how to stop that kind of thing. I've decided I'll never be a Mom. I'd screw it up.

Spike never pinned her to the wall with anything she had said or asked on the bike. The first time she did it she was totally expecting him too, but then he hadn't. He would just slip the things into casual conversation. All of a sudden, in the middle of a beer:

"Buffy doesn't hate you anymore than she hates herself. Maybe that's not the best news, since sometimes she does, but she mostly likes herself. I suspect that she will like you and herself more and more with you being the mothers of this new age of Slayers. So, I suppose that even if you never wanted to be mothers--you are. That's how it happens to a lot of bints I suppose. It seems you'd be a decent mother, a bit over protective maybe. Not ALL men hurt little girls when they come of age, you know. Only the evil ones do that. I'm not an expert on that particular type of evil , but I'm sure men mess with girls of all ages. Again that may not seem like the best of news, but it has nothing to do with anything a girl is doing."

Well, this was a fun game, not the funnest game she ever played with a punk boy on a bike, but it surely was the most interesting.

She decided to dare herself to up the stakes a little: Today Mom is dead for 15 years, and it still hurts. I wanted to play "Blondie" in memory of her, but I don't have it.

Her voice whispered this in between Ohio and Idaho, those boring ass states everyone forgets. But, did it really? Faith never had to hear it.

Spike came back to the hotel:

"I got this 'Blondie,' thought you might like it today... You know a requiem is when you remember someone whose dead, hold a little party for them or something. It doesn't have to be something sad or a big official hum-drum with flowers."

They had given Mom an unofficial requiem by playing "Blondie" last night and drinking a lot -even for them. Spike had told Faith the story of his Mom. Faith was dumb-literally. She couldn't think of what to say, other than she was sorry. He should have known what a great honor it was. Faith never really said she was sorry for anything, even for things she could do nothing about.

Spike was trying to teach her to play poker, but then they just ended up taking turns flipping the cards into a hat. He said teaching her poker was no fun because she had:

"The worst bloody poker face in history. I don't know how you ever lived a live of crime. You could never fool me."

Faith had insisted she was the best actor ever. This led to rough housing, and accidentally breaking the TV, and then the card toss into the hat since they couldn't watch TV.

So, it had been a good unofficial requiem. Kinda expensive with the TV breaking, but it had been the best one. The only one she had not had alone.

Thank You, she said and she held tight to his chest. She hadn't remembered ever thanking anyone officially, not even Angel. This wasn't official either, since she couldn't hear herself say it, and especially since he hadn't officially done anything that special other than buy her a CD, and tell her what "requiem" meant for no reason.

Since this was all unofficial Faith decided to say more just to be clear on things. I don't mean thanks for paying for the TV. I mean thanks for the CD for my Mom and me. Thanks for listening to my sorry ass stories and questions. Thanks for telling me I could ask questions and, you know, say things. No one else ever did that. Except my shrink, but she was paid by the prison. No one ever asked for my story. Not that I would tell it to anyone. I don't think B even knows my Mom is dead. It' s not her fault. There is no time for it in our world. But, now all we have is time. Poor Spike. You told me the story of your Mom and what did I give you--nothing. Just that I was sorry, which is fucking nothing. That's why I never say it, ya know? It does nothing for nobody. But, you-you do something. You're a dude of action. You bought me that CD, told me what a requiem was so we could have one--for my Mom. I would have just sat around thinking about it and not done shit. My mom was sick, like yours, you know. That's what they say, that being an addict is a sickness. I didn't think she was sick. I just thought she was a bitch. I sat there and watched her kill herself. Not you, you tried so hard to save your Mom. But, you're right, that wasn't your real Mom. It's like what they told me when my Mom was drunk she didn 't mean the things she said, they weren't her. Your real Mom would have been proud of you, you know? How could she not be? You acted to save people when you had no fucking soul. I killed people when I had a soul. We're really the last people that should be working together. I'm the last person that should be gathering up kids. You're probably sorry you ever game me the invitation to talk now. I bet you wish I'd just shut the fuck up.

She felt something. Spike was grabbing her hand. He was shaking his head. Faith felt icy-hot inside. Like she swallowed a tube of Ben-Gay. All that she just said to him, she had really just said it. He wasn't pretending she hadn't said anything anymore. The son of a bitch was changing the rules in the middle of the game. Well, she could do that too, easily enough. No one made her do anything she didn't want to.

You know, Brit Boy. You've been a real champ about all of this. My shrink got paid for listening to all this crap and she didn't act as well as you. She tried to make me face up to stuff or some bull shit. There are other ways I can unofficially thank you for all you're unofficially doing. No body would have to know, so if B ever wanted you back it would all be under the table or on the bike with the engine roaring so no one would ever hear about it but you. Whatever turns you on. You know what I say, if you can't beat 'em beat em' off on a Harley.

That was when Spike pulled the bike over. Okay, so he wanted more than a hand-job. Fine. That made sense, but that was really the only way they could do it and keep the game going, like it was all dust in the wind. Maybe doing it on the side of the road like this could be like it never happened too. She could play it that way. Faith opened her pants, if they were going to pull over and make a thing out of it she was going to get something out of it too.

"What in hell are you doing now?" he asked as if they had been in the middle of some conversation.

"Relax. I'm on the pill, and I'm clean. Can't catch much in prison with all girls, unless you really try," she said as she hitched her pants down just far enough. It was kinda cold and she wasn't all into being naked in front of him after she had been telling him stuff.

"Congratulations, but tell someone who cares," he sighed.

"Oh, right. You're already dead and shooting blanks," she laughed.

"I'm not--Listen---you--Pull up your knickers! I don' t want it to be like this, " he stammered angrily.

"Wha? You want to be the one to make the first move, and I'll act all surprised. I can try it, but I'm not really good at that sort of thing," she said. He had spent too much time with B.

"No! I don't want to shag you now," he said.

"Well, fine!" she grumbled, "I was just tryin' to say 'thanks!'"

"Wanking someone off on a bike while going 80 on the I-90 is not the way you thank them. It's the way you cause a 20 car pile-up," he said as he rolled his eyes.

"Okay, whatever," she said, "So now we're pulled over. What's the problem?"

"We're pulled over to talk this out," he said through gritted teeth.

"Talk what out?" she asked, "Look, the more we talk the less unofficial this is going to become. We don't want it to become a whole thing, that would just screw everything up."

"Bloody hell!" he grumbled.

He turned around and kicked the dirt and stomped away. Then he came stomping back and pointing his finger at her. Faith just stood there confused as she felt her brow crease.

"I was finally all right. I was fine with it all- the occasional pick-up at a bar, the shagging of a crazy evil Ex every now and again. But, you--you have to ruin everything and then you want to just put it all off!"

"Um, Dude," Faith said, "You're the one whose putting it off with this talk-fest. If it was up to me we'd be right in the middle of it now."

She looked at his pissed off chiseled face in the pinkness of the highway light hoping that if she stared hard enough she would get what the drama was about. He stared back at her his face tried to stay all twisted in anger, but then it seemed to change into something else. Something that made Faith look away.

"Look, you're ruining this," she said quickly now. She got on the bike. "Just forget it, okay?"

"I'm ruining this you say? I'm the one bloody ruining this! You know, just when I think I've lived long enough to have seen all the coldest, most heartless, ball-busting bitches around you have to come along! Let me tell you, you win the prize on insanity. No other Slayer has anything on you. The really crazy one? Her name was Dana. She thought I was the man that made her the way she was. But, you--you are more far gone. You know that I'm not the man who hurt you, but you hurt me anyway. Treat me like I'm nothing, at least she had the decency to hack my hands off!"

"I'm starting to get decent enough to wanna rip your tongue out! I--I never told you about any guy that hurt me. I never told anyone about--anything like that. No one makes me do anything I don't wanna do. I know I didn't tell you anything like that. I'm not crazy!" Faith yelled.

She felt something grip all of her insides. Had she told him something? Something she let slip out on the bike, and she didn't realize it because she hadn't heard herself say it? But, he heard it and now he knew, and he was using it against her.

"You don't have to tell me anything. You're sodding life story is in everything you do. It's in every word you say to keep people away. It's been in every bull-whip you've held and in every punch you've thrown. It's in every cheap quick slap and tickle you offer, and I don't sodding want that!"

He had been stalking up to her as she sat on the bike. By the end of his tirade he was an inch from her face. She belted him as hard as she could and he fell on the dirt and gravel road side.

"What part of my life story was in there?" she spat, "I think it's the part where I say 'FUCK YOU!' and 'You better not show up around me again if you like your face the way it is'"

"Ow!" he answered bitterly from the ground.

She started the bike and revved the engine loudly.

"If you didn't want the hand job you could have just said so. You didn't have to be such a dick about it. I guess you think I deserve it because you think I'm trying to hurt B. But, I'm not. That's why I wanted to keep it unofficial," she said even though she couldn't hear herself saying it. She hoped it came out really mad.

She drove away leaving his skinny ass on the dirt. She didn't look back. She should have known better than to trust a guy, or anyone. Now she would do this mission alone. But, first she'd stop at a local bar.

They were in Iowa now, or she was in Iowa now. There was no "they." Spike was in Iowa too, but he wasn't with her. He was lying on the side of the high-way bleeding. The old her would have run over him with the bike too. It wasn't like he would die. Still that would have been really cruel. He had called her cruel, and fucked up, and he said things--things that made him the cruel one. Why was she cruel? She just wanted to say 'Thanks.' OR maybe she wanted a way to end the game of the motorcycle talk. It was getting too weird. Still- ending a game with a hand-job wasn't cruel. Maybe it all went back to B. Spike really thought Faith was trying to mess with another one of B's men. But, he wasn't one of her men, not officially. Not like Angel or the Joe-college guy had been. Maybe he was. Faith didn't know the official story on that, or on a lot of stuff that went down.

Faith was surprised Iowa was pretty cool. Once you got past the corn husks there was Iowa city. It wasn't really a city as far as Faith was concerned, but she guessed it would be considered a city if you were from Iowa. It was more like a shieker, friendlier Sunny D, minus the demons. Maybe that was why it was friendlier. There were mostly college kids in this bar. There were the hippies with their dreads, the hipsters with their T-shirts of 80s TV shows, and the art snobs in their black. It was a lot like Sunny D, there weren't enough real punks or non-white people for Faith's taste. They weren't as hip as they thought, but Faith surprised herself by appreciating their friendliness. She told them she was ",passing through," driving across country, taking a vacation from her job.

"Yeah, I could tell you were a cross-countryer," a few of them had said. How? How could they tell? Why didn't she just blend? What else could they tell? That people had messed with her in her life? That she was a cold heartless bitch? Instead of getting bitchy with them like she wanted to she just accepted their drinks and let them drift away. Faith found that she was too tired or old to find the truth out. When did college age kids start looking young? She could give them hell, or let them wonder back to the life that she would never know. She let them wander back; they'd never know how close they came to the great hero, the heartless psycho, the "other" Slayer, who could save their life or rip their head clean off.

Most of the kids had left, but there was a girl who still had not. Faith had noticed her before. She was kind of hard to miss. She had on a red satin unitard that was as tight as the skin on a grape. Her lipstick matched her so-called outfit. Faith knew an outfit had to be out there when even she found it slutty. She also had black boots, and most whacked out of all she had black gloves on to match. She never took the gloves off. She had danced with Faith in the way that you unofficially dance with a stranger. You are dancing closer and closer to them and then you are dancing with them, but they never spoke. In fact the only speaking Faith thought she heard from this chick was when she was talking to a guy. She said something like: "You don't want to touch me."

The guy had touched the girl's hair, which Faith could understand. It was long and wavy most of it looked golden brown, but there were pieces she streaked red like cherry candy. Faith had a hard time thinking that there were people that didn't want to touch this girl in some way. If she was trying to keep people away, with the smug sneer that just made her look sexier. Faith bet no guy would turn down a hand job from this girl, even if they had once been with B. This girl had the face of an Angel or a Princess, unlike Faith. Faith knew she was hot, but she also knew she had the face of a stripper or a porn star, and her sneer worked.

Faith wondered why the girl was still here. Why she hadn't left with her girlfriends. Surely a girl like this had friends, even if she didn't listen to them when they said the unitard and gloves were weird. Maybe the gloves come in handy for all the hand jobs people accept from her.

The girl slid next to her at the bar. She moved like a ballerina princess.

"So, what's you're story?" she asked Faith.

Maybe she was questioning Faith for staring at her. Honestly, Faith was too drunk to care.

"My story? Can't you tell, girlfriend? Isn't it in the way I move or walk or talk? Isn't it in fucking everything?" Faith laughed.

"Yeah, kinda," the girl smiled and grabbed her hand. So, it was like that. Faith ran her own hand through the girl's hair

"Really? Fuck! What can you tell?" Faith laughed.

Maybe it was just written all over her that she was damaged somehow.

"I can tell that you're a freak like me," the girl said.

"Really how? What did I do? I haven't even offered you anything yet," Faith said.

"Oh Cherry, I would love to see what you would have to offer me, because it would have to be something pretty fan-fucking-tastic for me to let you go." The girl was laughing with her Princess sneer.

"Well, I am fan-fucking-tastic, you should be able to tell that with what I do, right?" Faith asked as she got closer to the girl's face. Any closer and she'd be touching the Princess button nose.

The girl had taken off her gloves. This had to mean something. There was going to be some action right here at the bar.

"Right," The girl said as she grabbed both of Faith's hands. Faith's hands felt funny and she tried to pull them away, and found she couldn't.

"Like the fact that you're a psycho and you kill people and beat them to bloody pulps- all really great on a resume. It totally surpasses mine. I just take things, like I'm taking you back to the good guys. MY good deed for the year...Okay maybe they are giving me a huge pile of green, but still. I usually don't do people," the girl said smugly.

Shit! A bounty hunter, Faith really thought that Angel wiping out her record with his law firm took care of these things.

"And you're not gonna do me either, lovely. No one gets me to do something I don't wanna do," Faith said as she flipped the girl over her head.

Whatever the hold was the girl had on her it broke. Faith felt like she was a fridge and a magnet got pulled away from her. This was starting to freak her out. The girl came at her again and Faith blocked the punch. She hit the girl straight in the face and she looked like she was about to fall back until some force pulled her up.

"Okay, cherry. They said you wouldn't go quietly, but hitting my face? Now I'm really pissed," The girl said.

Faith stared at her wide eyed as the girl shot some blue force at her. Faith hit the wall and slid down. She felt more than hit. She felt like her whole body wanted to jump out of it's skin. "Mama, the storm got into my insides!," she remembered whining one summer when she had been sitting in a metal chair at the block party when a storm came. Faith felt like she had been hurled through time to that moment. Hell, stranger things had happened to her. She was thinking of the softness of her mother's Huesker Du tank top as her mother hugged her with the storm buzzing her insides. She was thinking of all the things she could fix. Until:

"Why do the people from out of town always end up being the ones fighting?" some hippy kid asked his friend.

"'Cause they try to drive cross-country to forget about their problems and they just end up bringing them," the friend said.

"I mean, I could be in the Caiman Islands right now scoping out Trump's summer home, buying Jade monkeys, but no, instead I'm in freaking Iowa collecting your ass. Doyle better appreciate this that's all I'm saying," the girl said as she hand-cuffed Faith and dragged her off the ground.

Maybe Faith had really lost it this time. Other than complaining about being in Iowa Faith had no idea what the girl just said. Faith wasn't too out of it to realize that she had to get away from the chick. She had the power to make her feel crazy and horrible, worse than Spike. Faith kicked the girl's legs out from under her and ran.

"Oh that's just great!" the girl snapped, "I'm asking for extra green for every bruise I get. Great thing about diamonds is they don't put up much of a fight."

Apparently one thing the girl couldn't do was run very fast. She didn't even seem to try to go after Faith. Faith pulled on the chains of the handcuffs and she felt tears of frustration when they didn't break. What good is super strength if it can't break free of handcuffs? Her writs were sore from pulling.

Okay. What the fuck? Faith was just trying to do her mission, and it was all going fine. So, how had she ended up in handcuffs and called a psycho by two people she thought she was gonna get some from? Of course, Faith knew that the girl was after her from the minute she saw her, and everything she had said about Faith was true. If some information had leaked back out to the law maybe Faith should just go back to jail. It seemed no one was able to forget her past anyway. Not even Spike who was the only one that seemed not to judge her for it. Why did he ever invite her to talk to him when no one could hear? Making it all unofficial like that had really tricked her good. He had really been judging her all along. Everyone connected to the mission judged her. Why should she even give a rats' ass about any of this? There were all these Slayers now. She wasn't needed. Faith could go back to jail and be "the bad example" like she had been in school. So, she had done a few good things. Angel, helping B with the saving of this suck ass world, helping the hurt baby Slayer- Sam.

Sam! She had promised Sam that she would see her. That she would help her learn how to be a "real" Slayer. Sam was waiting Xing off the days in the calendar. Faith could NOT go back to jail. She could not be the bad example. Faith grated the metal chains against a metal pole near a closed gas station until she screamed. She sat with a thud breathless from the grating and screaming.

"It's okay," she whispered, "You're still okay. No one has you. You're still free."

She felt some hands firm on her shoulders and she pushed her elbows back into their gut. Faith was waiting for the electricity of that girl's again. It didn't matter how bad or scary it felt Faith would have to fight. Faith mouth was covered as she was screaming and trying to get up to run.

"Shhhh! There's some bint tailing you. I don't think she's up to any good."

Faith smiled. It was Spike. Then she frowned. It was Spike.

"No shit. Sherlock," Faith spat angrily and showed him the handcuffs.

"God, what happened?" Spike asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Faith sighed.

"So, she's another psycho Slayer? I guess you didn't get lucky enough to be in a place where you could tell her it was okay to trash it," he said.

"The girl's no Slayer. She's come to get me for being the horrible bitch you said I was. So, you thought I was just fucking lucky when I calmed down Sam? The truth comes out. You don't think I'm a hero, you were just trying to encourage me to do your dirty work. I wish that other psycho Slayer had cut off more than your hands. I'd like to see the latest technology reattach that back as good as new," Faith said.

"You are--- I never called you--- You know I should just leave you like you left me!" he said.

"Go a head no one is stopping you!" she snarled.

"Yeah, well I'd love to see you last two seconds with this--this...What is she? Why has she come to get you? Who would want you?"

"You're right no one wants me, except the US government for murder. Remember?" Faith demanded.

"That wasn't murder. It was an accident. You thought he was a demon," Spike sighed.

"Try telling that to a judge. Besides, it was my fault," Faith laughed as she felt her eyes stinging.

"It will all be all right, love. I won't let them take you," He said this way too softly like he was talking to a girl that was flipping out.

"I can take care of myself," she grumbled, "I said I wanted you out of my life, remember?"

"And look how bloody well you've done with out me," he said as he rattled the chain on the handcuffs. Before she could start to yell various obscenities he was holding the hand-cuffs with her writs in them.

"Now pull," he said and she pulled her sore writs apart again as he pulled them too, and the chain snapped.

"Tomorrow we'll go to a garage and borrow some soddering tools, and get those things off your writs. I don 't think they'll have any problem believing we're a couple that got a bit out of hand with hand-cuffs," he smirked.

"In your dreams. You're not even man enough to take a hand-job from me, and you think you seem like the kind of guy I'd let top me," Faith snickered.

"Why are you fingernails charred?" he demanded before she could make another snide comment about him seeming to be in this hand-cuff situation before.

She held her fingers up to the closed gas station light to see that they were blackened like Cajun fish. She laughed bitterly.

"Tell me, Brit. Is my hair sticking up too like one of the stooges? I mean one of the three that would stick their finger in a light socket or something, not Iggy's band. I guess the band works too. They were sporting Mohawks once, right?" she asked.

He had this huge stupid grin on his face.

"Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?" she spat, "It's a legit question. Is my hair sticking up or not?"

"In order: I just thought was a very interesting question filled with knowledge I appreciated. But, as interesting as the question was I don't know where on earth it would be considered legit at this moment. And lastly, no your hair's not sticking up. It's a bit wind whipped though," Spike told her.

"I'll tell you where on earth it's a legit question- in fucking Iowa City, where that bounty hunter chick tried to electrocute me!"

"God, are you all right?"

"No, my finger nails are black and I feel like shit, but maybe it will mysteriously cure my depression, because I' m too fucking pissed to be depressed!"

"How in hell could that little thing with the big knockers electrocute you, a Slayer?"

"She has powers, dumb ass. She's like Thor or Zeus. Which is the God of lightning? "

"You were right it's Thor, or is he just thunder? It doesn't matter. This is brilliant."

"Look, I know she's hot and she has powers but this is no time to be getting turned on. She's a bitch that's trying to haul me back to jail."

"I'm not turned on. I was saying 'brilliant ' because--- Do you think I get a stiffer for every woman that walks by?"

"I dunno. I know you don't get one for me, but you didn't have to be such a dick about it. Maybe this girl is your type. She's got the whole morally superior thing going. She called me a psycho and said I was no good. You seem to have a lot in common."

"I never said you were no good. I think you're -- Why do you twist everything I say? And for you information I was saying 'brilliant' because if all she has is electricity, she can't hurt me. So, I guess you'll have to stay with me now," he smiled.

"I don't have to do anything! No one gets me to do something I don't wanna do," Faith said.

"You're really that bloody daft, aren't you?" he yelled, "You'd fry your own ass just to prove a point to me. Well, you're staying with me whether you like it or not," he grumbled.

"Oh really?" Faith said, "Why? So, you can keep me in check for your precious B who is never coming back to you? I'd love to have heard you talk this way to her, but your mouth was too busy kissing her ass. I'm the Second Slayer and I deserve a little respect."

"If someone told you the real tale of Buffy an' me, the unofficial one, you'd know I don' t give respect to anyone who acts like a bloody idiot and is trying to hurt themselves."

"I don't care about you and your stupid life stories anymore! You just used them to get me to trust you, and if you try to get me to go with you the only one that is going to be hurt---" as Faith was yelling Spike was hurled across the parking lot. "is you."

"Hello, cherry," the girl was standing there in Spike's place smiling.

Faith's eyes widened in fear.

"Bloody hell!" Spike laughed in pain from across the parking lot, "My heart's racing."

"You hurt him," Faith said her eyes narrowing with anger now, "Only I can do that."

Faith ran to a pile of tires and threw one at the girl. She was surprised when the girl got hit by the tire and fell.

"Well it's kind of my job to stop you from doing what only you think you have a right to do to people, --Nothing personal," the girl said as she got up.

"You're job is to stop me from hurting Spike?" Faith asked as she hurled another tire at her.

The girl jumped out of the way.

"No, it's my job to stop you from hurting anyone. Whose Spike?" she asked and zapped Faith with a painful jolt of electricity.

Faith fell back into the tires but her head hit pavement.

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Spike smelled that the bitch was human, and he had ceased to care. He ran up and wrapped his hands around the girl's neck. She threw him off with that sodding electricity. It was a neat trick, and she had her fighting skills down, but that was all she had, and Spike could take her down eventually.

"You have powers too? What? Do hot freaks couple off? Why wasn't I notified? Where do you go to meet each other?" she asked after she hit Spike in the face.

"Try hell, bitch," he said and hit her with a tire.

"God, why does everything have to be so hard?" she grumbled as she hit the pavement.

"It's not going to get any easier. Bet you never thought you'd be beaten to death by a tire," Spike said.

"Oh I get it," the girl said as she jumped up quick, "She's the homicidal maniac in the couple and you're the soft creative misunderstood one that gets into a life of killing after the bitch led you along."

"Try again," Spike said as he changed into vampire face.

"Crap! You're a vampire. I'm really not in the mood for a vampire. Word on the street is none of you play fair. Except the one I know, when he's in a good mood, which is next to never," the bitch said smoothly, but Spike could smell her fear that wasn't there before.

"None of us play fair. The electricity isn't the only juice I'll take out of you to find out who you're working for. A girl like you has too much style for the government," Spike said.

"I suppose, since you're just as much as a psycho as she is that telling you I'm taking her to people that want to help her be a good guy again won't help," the girl said.

"No, a pack of sodding lies won't help you with this psycho," Spike said as he ran after the girl with a tire as she was slowly backing up.

"Spike!" Faith called, "Where are you? Spike!"

"You're cherry is paging you. She sounds scared," the girl mock pouted.

Faith did sound scared. She had sounded fine enough at first, but the last time she called out to him her voice lost that hardness and had gotten shrill. He'd rather hear the gates of Hell for him open again. This electric slut smiled because she knew that.

"If I see you again you're dead," Spike said to her.

"We'll see, baby," the girl said and she ran away.

"I'm here, love. Are you okay?" he asked as he pulled her up so she was sitting on the gravel.

"Do I look okay?" she grumbled, "What happened to Mr. Electricity-can' t-hurt-me?"

"It didn't hurt me; it just threw me," he said.

"Well, in that case it didn't hurt me either it was really gravity that hurt me when it made me fall back to the ground," she said.

"No, it's different for you, I imagine. It fries up your insides, and you need your insides. I don't. It made my heart beat though," he told her as he pulled her up.

"I need my insides? I thought I was a cold heartless bitch," she said jerking her arm away from him.

"Look, I don't know where you're getting this from, but I'm too bloody tired for it. Now let's go find a room before it's day light. We need to get you into a cozy bed," he said lifting her up in his arms as she was leaning on a car so she wouldn't fall.

"I'm so not cool with this. I thought my life story was in everything I did. Then you must know I've felt much worse than this and I did fine on my own," she grumbled.

Spike knew it was because she was too weak to fight him, and she wasn't the type of girl to carry on screaming "Let me go!" a hundred times when she knew it would do no good. She was sensible in that respect. She had pride.

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Spike smiled when he saw those big doe eyes open, even though it was immediately followed by a scowl. Faith closed her eyes again and stretched her hands over her head. Her bones popped and she frowned like this was an unfamiliar sound. The custard yellow blanket was twisted around her. It matched the curtains that were closing out Mr. Sunshine who was very bright today. Faith rolled in towards Spike where he sat on the other bed. She was still in her black halter top. He couldn't imagine it being very comfortable to sleep in, but he wouldn't have dared to help her take it off last night. Not that him not taking it off would change his fate. She had told him that the first thing she was going to do was kick his ass when she woke up. She seemed to be only looking at him with mild distain now. She probably was still feeling the beating of that little staticy bitch.

"Staring problem?" she asked.

"No, jus' taking stock of your wounds--how you feeling?" he asked with a casual air.

"Like a hostage," she snorted as if it should have been obvious.

"Fair enough. Just featured you'd still be sore," he said as he slowly approached her.

"I'm good. Better than when you dragged me in here, and apparently still breathin' so, can't really complain."

"You were tossing about all night, you sleep okay?"

"Not really, pain kind'a an intrusion on the whole sleep concept. What's with you and the twenty questions anyway?" she asked.

"Just askin'. Wouldn't want to start the real talk if you were still all fried," he sighed.

Her feet hit the floor with a thud. She was in her underwear. She must have taken her jeans off when he fell asleep. He shouldn't have fallen asleep like that, but getting punched by a Slayer and fighting some lightning bounty hunter was surprisingly tiring. Plus, there were those eight rounds of shots he drank after Faith had left him on the side of the road, they could have made him tired. She was bending over in her skives now. Unfortunately she did not wear thongs, she hated them. But, he still got a great afternoon show of her fine round ass, complete with just the right amount of hips. She grabbed her jeans that were splotched with mud and blood and jumped into them. They'd have to wash those. He'd have to be the one to look for an all night laundry mat. She would never think of doing it.

"I said 'I'm five by five.' All right? Where's all my stuff? My money?" she demanded.

"No worries, pet. I got the bike and all," he said. Of course there were worries, but he would deal with those. He' d have to get information about lightning girl. He'd have to kill her. He knew she was human, but the girl had picked a dangerous line of work.

"Where's my wallet?" Faith asked roughly. She was still very brassed-off at him, of course.

"Couldn't find that I'm afraid. Think the Electric Bugalo Bitch got it," he answered.

"God damn it!... That's a good name for her though," she scowled and then almost smiled. The girl had a lot of almost-expressions that were almost as fun to look at as her actual ones.

"I gotta...do stuff," she muttered as she looked at the custard carpet and picked up her boots.

"I already canceled all the cards," he told her.

"Why in the hell did you do that? I'm gonna get my wallet back from her and kick her ass," she looked at him with that raw indigence

"Not bloody likely. She was already usin' them like they were burning a whole in her pocket. She was smart too used them to get cash advances so we couldn't track what stores she went to," he laughed.

"Like we don't already know she went to Spandex Ho' Hut," Faith sighed as she flopped down on the bed.

"Didn't know they had one of those in corn country," Spike answered flippantly.

"Oh yeah, they're totally a chain, and don't you dare ask how I know. How in hell did you cancel MY cards anyway?"

"I said I was your man, and that you got mugged and you were too banged up to come to the phone," Spike answered. Of course, this made her bolt up from the bed, but she didn't seem to be glaring at him. She looked more inquisitive.

"And they fell for that bullshit? Damn, you could go around canceling everyone's cards just to piss them off," she said. Her eyes got the faraway look.

Spike loved her brain. Faith liked to think about her own hypotheticals, which were mostly about what she may be able to do in the world under the radar.

"Wasn't really bullshit though, was it? I had all the information, the codes, the secret questions, Mother's maiden name. I knew it all," he smiled.

"You mean all the FAKE stuff that we made up to hide my past, that's all you knew. I'm gonna jet." And there was the glare. She got up and headed towards the door.

"You can't. Not after the fling you had last night," Spike said.

She froze and turned with folded arms. Her long chocolate mixed with caramel hair fell to her breasts. It seemed to have a wave to it today. It always seemed to get blown straight on the bike. Maybe that bitch giving her a zap had curled it up some.

"What? What fling last night?" she demanded.

"Hello? Girl with a body to die for and you almost did--because it had lightning shooting out of it," he rolled his eyes.

"She didn't fry my memory. That's why I'm jetting," she said and turned to leave.

"She's gonna come at you again. You need my help," Spike said.

"I don't need your help. Help obviously only gets in my way. I'm not--- like other people you know."

"You got that last part right. You hold some kind of world record for being so bloody oblivious. You do so need my help."

A month ago he would not have been so sure. She was quite a force to be reckoned with. Buffy was wrong to think she would not last long out of prison. She took down every vampire that came along in the towns they stopped in. She was so sure of herself that sometimes she even brought one of the new little Slayer girls along to show them how it was done. Faith took on things that Spike would rather not--parents of the new Slayers. He never knew what to say to them. A lot of them were just Moms as Dad had taken off for greener pastures. That always made him mad and he would end up doing something stupid like asking where the bastard was or saying something bad about him for not being there. Faith made him stop doing that.

Most of them were people with white pickid fences and kids. Sure, they all varied in some way, this was America. The families were all different colors and had their different ways about them. Of course, some of the white fences were way more chipped and broken than others. They met one family with a house made out of recycled cans. But, everyone was trying to live out their version of the dream. Faith had just wanted to come in and barrel ass over everything. She would tell the parents what was what, and she didn't care that people like this were not ready. Faith said they had to face the truth sometime and it was better for the Slayer daughter if they did it right away. Spike completely agreed. But, Faith didn't seem to care that Slayers would always stand apart from their families no matter what. She was trying to jam a square peg into a round hole, and sometimes she seemed to manage to get it. Some families seemed like they would come around--someday. But, this work of dealing with hysterical parents seemed to take its toll on Faith's fighting spirit, and she began to listen to Spike about keeping things under raps and only telling the truth to the Slayer. Spike was almost sad that she listened to him, and began to do it the way it had always been done.

Then, she surprised him again, by doing something that he was sure no bloody Watcher ever did. She rescued a little Slayer from herself. Spike thought for sure that little Sammy would be another one for the Slayer-Looney-Bin. But, Faith had turned it all around in the space of one night. It was the most amazing rescue he had ever taken part in, and he had saved the whole bloody world. Faith talked to that little girl like they had their own language. He had felt so horrible when they had to part. If only Spike could tell Faith that he could go out on his own and get the rest of the little Slayers himself Faith could stay with little Sammy. But, he couldn't do that. Spike needed Faith, and it wasn't really because he was scared to talk to mostly Mom's of Slayers. There was some kind of loneliness that had been lifted from him. He hadn't felt this complete since he had been with Buffy, or no, since before that.

Spike felt complete even when his heart was breaking when Faith cried and got sick over leaving Sammy. How could he not? Faith had laughed after she had gotten sick, like it at all been a surprise to her that she had feelings. Faith did have so many feelings and questions. Most of them she wished she didn't have. Spike couldn't understand more. She had looked so hurt when he told her about the first crazy Slayer, and she was right to be. Buffy should have called her in and trusted Faith to do a better job than Andrew. It indeed was infuriating that Buffy was a phenomenal woman, who only let people she saw as harmless close to her. Spike wanted to tell all of this to Faith, but he knew she wouldn't want to hear all of his opinions on Buffy, any more than he would want to hear hers on Angel. So, he told Faith to talk to him, and just ask what she liked. He knew it would be easier for her if she did it on the bike. Most people had shouted to him on the bike, even when he told them he could hear them. Faith didn't. It was because she always knew when a fact was a fact, and because she was not sure she wanted to be heard.

The minute she started talking Spike knew he had been given a great gift. One that he had never been given by any woman he ever loved. Buffy and Drusilla never talked about their troubles directly. Dru literally talked in rhymes and Buffy may as well have about all the reasons why he could only get so close to them. Faith told him things she didn't say by asking him to read in between the lines. He thought he was a bloody genius in figuring all this and then having enough sense not to bollix it up. He treaded ever so lightly around the things she said under the roaring engine, and he was rewarded with many wide smiles.

More importantly, Faith kept talking. Her raspy yet young voice was so much more powerful than the engine, even though she made sure to keep it under the it. Spike discovered he was no genius. This girl was more complex than he ever realized. Of course she was powerful and a street-smart mastermind, but she was also terribly nave. She thought women were more powerful than they were, that it was they who were responsible for their own powerlessness. He knew that a girl getting her monthlies wasn't what made a vampire want to feed on her, a vampire wanted to feed because he was a vampire. Spike was sure it was the same with rapists. Faith thought that mothers could protect their daughters from predators, and daughters should be able to protect mothers from death. Spike could tell her a million tales proving otherwise, but he chose not to. Let her keep one last piece of something.

Yep, Spike was a regular brain, or so he thought until yesterday. Something went wrong. Faith had said something that really brassed him off. So, he told her how stupid she was being, and now she was a in a state to go off without him and get fried by Electric-Chair Girl. What had made him so angry?

"I don't need your fucking help!" she yelled. Now she was the angry one.

"You think because you tricked me into talking to you about some lame stuff that means I can't take care of myself?" she demanded.

"Tricked you? I bloody tricked you? That wasn't what you said last night. In fact, you wanted to take it out in trade. Pay back. I'm not quite sure what conversion table you were using as all that going on about this and that equals one wankering--"

"I'll show you pay back!" she roared, and went to hit him. This time he ducked.

Well, now he remembered why he was so bloody angry. Faith wanted to give him a sodding hand-job! Right, well he wasn't angry because she wanted to give him a hand job. It was like she wanted to get rid of him. It was nothing more than an exchange of goods and services to her. Had she been friends with Anya? No, it wasn't Anya he had been reminded of by her suggestion. He didn't want to be involved in a mutual using again, at least not with her. He had worked so hard to earn her trust only to be told he never really had it, and that he was just worth an unofficial tug in the dark.

"Tell me again how you don't need my sodding help!" he said. He had gotten on top of her and pinned her to the ground. Of course, he had taken a few hits in the face, but this would usually be a lot harder to do, if he could do it at all.

"This is pitiful. You're still hurt. You need to stay with me or the Electric Boogulu Bitch will fry you up and serve you to whoever it is that wants you so bad," he said as she struggled under him.

"If I'm so fucking pitiful why did you agree to work with me? As if I didn't know why!"

Spike didn't answer. He knew she was going to say it was because he had wanted to shag her. Well, he did, but it wasn't the way she thought it was. He just kept to holding her down, which was an arduous task.

"Billy thinks he's the great hero now and he's going to help the poor little poor girl just like all the other good guys." Faith said.

"What?" he said, as she glared at him, "Seriously, I have no bloody idea what you just said. Who's this bloke Billy now?"

"You just feel sorry for me. I think you're just doing all this as a big favor to B," she looked away from him as he sat on top of her now.

"Okay, listen," he rolled his eyes, "I'm going to start saying a lot of things, and I want you to promise that you won't try to leave, or say anything , until I'm done...Oh, and don't bloody hit me either, especially in the face. I'm right sick of that."

"Window!" she shouted and flipped him over and put a blanket on him. This girl was always surprising him.

"What the hell are we playing at now?" he grumbled, "Look, it seems we always play your games. Well, I--"

"Hi Sweeties!" another girl voice chirped, "Miss me?"

"Oh bloody hell!" Spike pushed his way out of the blanket to be met with the sensation of burning.

"Ow! Ow! OW!" he spat.

"Spike!" Faith snapped at him and pulled the blanket on top of him.

"Did the bitch climb through the window?" he asked.

"What do you think?" Faith snapped.

"Now. Now. No name calling, you hardly know me," the girl said.

"Should have locked the bloody window, sorry love," he said.

"I'm not your god damned responsibility!" Faith yelled.

"Bloody hell! What is it with you? The nicer someone is to you the meaner you are to them. I should just let the bitch take you," Spike snapped.

"And I should have let you burn. No one is taking me anywhere." Faith stated.

"I beg to differ. Thank God you two are so loud with all the Sid and Nancy fighting or I never would have found--- "

Spike gave out a yell and jumped the girl landing on top of her while he sizzled with Mr. Sunshine and rapped his hands around the girls neck. Fire and lightning. It almost felt as bad as when his soul started burning.

"Geez, Brit do you have to be so dramatic about everything? Stop chocking her. We can work this out for Christ-sake." Faith grumbled. She threw the blanket over him and the electric girl.

"How in the hell are we going to do that?" Spike demanded from under the blanket as he let go of the girl. Spike felt himself being thrown off the girl with a charge. He hit the night stand and it fell to pieces with the lamp.

"She doesn't seem very reasonable," Spike said as he laid flat out on his ass now.

Faith threw the blanket over him like she was a matador, but he didn't need it. He was in the shadow of the two beds.

"With money of course," Faith said calmly, "That's all this chick talks about."

"Sorry, I don't make deals with homicidal maniacs especially after they try to strangle me," the girl was coughing.

"Well, what do you expect? You tried to kill my---Faith," Spike snapped at her.

"I tried to kill your faith? Oh, you're one of those people. I had nothin' to do with that Jasmine thing. I was just there in the beginning. You want to complain to someone go to the head of Wolfram and Hart," the girl said.

"What?" Spike demanded.

"You know Angel?" Faith demanded.

"Yes, I know Angel, and while he may be a bit of a tease I'm really not going to make any deals with psychos who try to kill him. I don't care how much money you have," the girl said.

"What?" Spike demanded again.

"I haven't tried to kill Angel in years. How is he? Did he get the snow globe I sent from Circus Circus?" Faith asked.

"That's who you bought that ridiculous thing for?" Spike grumbled.

"Doyle said you would pull this. That you would claim that you were good and all, but he never said anything about Angel and a snow globe. Nice touch," the girl said with her hands on her spandex hips.

"What the hell are you talking about? Whose Doyle? I am all good, well not all good, but pretty much. Better than you. I don't go stealing people's wallets!" Faith said.

"Listen--" Spike began.

"I'd say stealing the wallet of some skank and her soulless greasy boyfriend who are doing some 'Natural Born Killer' cross country thing counts as a good deed," the girl said.

"I don't know who you think you're messing with you slut-bag version of Storm, but you got the wrong skank, " Faith said as she stood with her hands on her hips.

"Look--" Spike tried again.

"No, I'm pretty sure I have the right skank. Tough talking, probably really good at scaring the poor normals, but when the shit hits the fan she splatters with it," the girl stared down at Faith.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Faith demanded.

"Hey---" Spike yelled.

"It means that I kicked you're ass, and the ass of your slime-ball vampire man!" The girl said.

"You didn't even come close to kicking my ass, and you just leave Spike out of this. Don't think I'll forget how you tried to kill him with daylight," Faith said.

Well, this wasn't going to end anytime soon. They were both having too much fun. Spike rolled his eyes and picked up the hotel phone and started dialing. He got Harmony and before he could argue she put him on hold. God! Who picked this sodding music? Probably Angel. "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head" was going to be in his sodding head all day now. Maybe Angel hoped some of his more evil clients would be waiting on the phone and hear the bloody music and then kill themselves.

"Like you would be wearing sack cloth and ashes for him if he died. I heard you arguing and if I hadn't come in you'd have just killed each other. People like you are just like vamps you only care about you, and that's why I'm taking you back to Doyle. He says he can make you into something worthwhile, but Ill believe it when I see it. Which will be never. I'm just going to take my money and get gone," Spike could hear the girl saying as he waited on the phone.

"Lemme tell you if I were to wear the sack cloth and ashes it would be better than whatever it is you have on! I really hope you were planning on buying a better wardrobe with all the dough you thought you were getting for giving me over to some asshole with a simple rouse that any idiot could see through! Only a moron or a sell-out would take some guys story that some chick needed to be taken down at face value," Faith said.

"Hey!" Spike yelped in offense.

"You didn't seem to have any complaints about my clothing last night," the girl said to Faith.

"Maybe I just wanted you naked any way I could because the outfit was so bad!" Faith said.

"What?" Spike raised his eyebrow, of course this was when Angel decided to come to the phone.

Spike began to tell the story, that it looked like someone had gotten played by Lindsay again, and it was one of Angel's friends. Spike began to demand why Lindsay would want Faith. Angel insisted that before they go any further that he describe this girl. Easy enough.

By the time Spike was done talking to Angel the two girls were sitting across from each other on the beds. He thought for sure there was going to be more fighting. Instead the girl was saying:

"So, he said 'no' to a hand-job, huh? That's shady. What guy would turn a girl down for a hand job unless she was me and he was afraid he'd get a nuked wiener."

"Gwen," Spike said with a hint of surprise. What were they doing?

"He didn't just turn me down, he said I was psycho and stuff. I was just trying to be nice. But, yeah that must really suck to be you. What do you do about that?" Faith asked.

Oh, they had done that thing that women do. They were friends as well as enemies because they understood each other. They would love and hate each other for it.

"Well, I have a regulator now that allows me to turn off my juice, but it doesn't always work, and even if it did...It's hard to find guys who understand the whole living between the lines of the law Super-Power thing. I think I need to find another freak, which is hard," Gwen said.

Spike was glad he wasn't a woman. He wouldn't know what to do with friend-enemies. Hating Angel and taking his money was hard enough.

"Um, Gwen," Spike said even softer now.

"Finding a freak hard!" Faith laughed, "That's all there are is freaks."

"I mean a good one," she said.

"Well, now you're asking way too much," Faith laughed again.

"Faith! Gwen! Gwen bloody Raiden!" Spike yelled.

Now he was brassed off. So, no men were good. They had decided this here and now and he didn't get a vote.

"What do you want, Spike?" Faith grumbled.

"Oh nothing. I got Angel on the phone and he wants Gwen to call him to save your ass is all," Spike grumbled.

"Why did you call Angel?" Faith asked.

"To prove that you weren't an evil killer so Gwen wouldn't drag you away to Lindsay who probably has some diabolical plot to make you evil or turn you into a cyborg or some such," Spike scoffed. Wasn't he at least a decent man saving them from the evil butch and all?

"I thought you said he was a good listener," Gwen said to Faith.

"That's only when you're talking right to him. He doesn't do well in groups," Faith said, "We already figured all that out while you were on the phone, dumb-ass. Did you ask Angel if he got his snow globe?"

"No, I did not ask Angel if he got a bloody snow globe!" Spike snapped.

He had just saved her from God knows what and all she cared about was if the big poof got his presents!

"Wait," Gwen said suddenly and moved towards Faith. Spike got up and stood between them.

"Don't touch her, or being friends with Angel will become just another reason to kill you!" he said.

"God Damn it! You are such a pain in the ass," Faith said and pushed him out of the way. He was the pain in the ass?

"I get it. He's jealous, over-protective. He's all sweet on you," Gwen said to Faith. This Gwen was the pain in the ass.

"No, he loves B. B and Angel had a thing that's why he's jealous. Guys who like you don' t say no to a hand-job and call you a psycho bitch," Faith shrugged.

"They do if they wanted it to be all romantic, and then it doesn't go their way, and they are at the emotional age of twelve," Gwen said. Why couldn't the two of them have just kept on fighting?

"I never bloody said that you were a psycho! And why are you talking to her? She obviously isn't that bright getting played by that Lindsay Wanker. He told her you were the big bad, and he was the big good, and she never bothered to check it out. She doesn't know bollocks about real men, or their bloody emotional age. Probably fell for that whole baby faced butch thing Lindsay has going on," Spike grumbled.

"Aw, is that what happened to you when you fell for him?" Faith asked.

"I never--he---you don't--- Shut-up!" Spike stammered.

"Yep, I think I nailed it at twelve, they aren't secure with their sexuality yet. Lucky for you, he ' s a bit older and hotter looking than your average sixth grader," Gwen smirked.

"I'm tellin' ya ,G. He's not into me. I fucked it up like everything else, and after this we'll totally part ways. It's cool. There are plenty of men in the rest of the country that I have to tour through. It's true none of them can hear you on a motorcycle, but I think I've learned it's better I don't talk to the dumber sex. I'll stick to what I'm best at with them," Faith said.

"Let me get this straight. I'm part of the dumber sex and you think I'm going to let you go off on your own? It's obvious Lindsay wants you and he's obviously working for something higher than himself. He tried to send Static Cling Slut after you, so he'll send more. You'll need my help," Spike said.

"I do not want or need your help, even when I get my ass kicked and you force it on me I'm able to work stuff out myself," Faith yelled.

He smiled. He loved his naive girl, and she was his. Angel might be able to wipe records clean and sit at his desk and get snow globes, but who else could help her where she belonged- on the road?

"Right," Spike laughed, "You would have been toasted and buttered and cut up into bloody pieces by now if not for me! Lindsay would have you back to your ol' self."

"You mother fucker! You want to see my old self!" she roared.

He smiled and waited for the fists of his girl. He might not ever be able to call her his girl, but she would always stay with him, if only to settle a never-ending fight in her head.

"Kids, kids, kids," Gwen shouted, "Okay, so we all seem to be in junior high here. So, I' m gonna do this like junior high. Sweet and simple with a million complications that you won't think of until later in study hall. "

"Spike, do you like Faith?" Gwen asked. Electric Girl was trying to give things a spark.

"Of course I like her! Why do you think I'm--"

"No! I mean do you like like her? Do you want to go steady?" Gwen asked.

But, they already had the spark. They just couldn't fire it up, or Faith would get scared. Like she was last night after Gwen zapped her. He knew he couldn't live like that forever, but....

"Slayers don't seem to go steady very well, not officially," he said quietly.

"That wasn't my question. How do you feel about her?" Gwen asked.

"I love her, but---" Spike began.

"Oh, c'mon! You are so full of it. Yeah, you love me in the way you love the world you saved. You kind of feel sorry for it, but you gotta love it. I don't need that crap!" Faith grumbled.

"You see what I'm dealing with. Look what happens when I lay it out, but I'm very bad at holding it back so it comes out a bit wonky," Spike sighed to Gwen, "Don't let her leave I don't know what I'd do without her. "

"Faith, Spike doesn't want you to leave. He doesn't know what he'd do without you," Gwen repeated.

"Tell him he'd just do the same thing he does with me. Roam around and drink and save people from vamps and freaks. I don't need this drama," Faith said.

"Sure you do. You're just chicken shit about it," Gwen said.

"What did you say?" Faith snapped.

"You heard me. You've been such a freak your whole life you can't imagine anything working out with another person, even if it's another freak," Gwen said.

"Well, it takes one to know one," Faith said.

"It sure does, and you don't want to be me. I do it so much better, but I gotta say you would fill out my outfit nicely, right Spike?" Gwen asked.

"Faith, don't go," Spike said a bit too pleadingly. He was so afraid that would scare her off. If it did he would want to blame Electric Bitch, but he knew that one day everything would get sparked and burn anyway. Electric Doxy was just hurrying it along.

"Maybe I could stay. We could have fun. See how well I fill out her outfit when she takes it off. I could get everyone I set out to get last night, and it would just be a good time, that was all I wanted. I don't want to change your life or anything, Brit boy, " Faith said.

"You already have. I don't want to be with anybody else, and I don't want some wank off while I've got the hammer down on the highway so we can pretend it never happened...Well, not the pretending it didn't happen part anyway, and not for the first time," he said stepping towards her.

"What-what do you want for the first time?" Faith asked wide eyed, but then her eyes quickly narrowed again, "Because, I don't do the whole romantic fire place or the whole beach thing."

"Me neither. That's all too dangerous with the sun and the fire. I think I just want it to be official. So, I'd have to leave speeding bikes and second girls out of it, as much as I normally fancy them, they can make a mess of things," he said.

"We don't need a twenty car or a three person pile-up on top of everything else," Faith said.

"See, was that so hard?" Gwen demanded. "Well, as nice as it was being apart of and not being apart of your thing-- almost, this third person is leaving. I have Texan ass to kick and things to fence."

She slipped out the door with a wink.

"I can't bloody believe it," Spike laughed.

"I know, you past up a threesome. You want to call her back?" Faith asked.

"No, not that. She stole my wallet," Spike said.

"That bitch," Faith said and went to run after her. Spike grabbed a hold of her arms.

"No, I let her have it. Small price to pay to get you to stay," Spike said.

"No one gets me to do something I don't wanna do," she said softly and looked down.

"I know," he said and lifted her chin up and she kissed him.

 

~Fin~