CHAPTER 22

The silence that descended throughout the room was tangible. It pressed down upon the shoulders of the four occupants with a dogged ferocity. It was almost as if it were a living, breathing entity, intent on sucking the very words from the lips of those who tried to speak. Buffy had been the first casualty, her lips forming words that did not materialize. Her hands rested limply at her sides and her shoulders wilted noticeably. It was by sheer will alone that she remained standing as her legs shook, threatening to betray her at any moment. All the while, her hazel eyes locked on the blue/green embers of her daughter.

The women on the couch were just as shell-shocked as Buffy. Although Willow had been upset that Faith had kept hidden who her true father was from them all, she surmised that the young slayer had a reason for it. The redhead was intent on discovering said reasons when Buffy made her presence known. Faith was the first to speak. "Please don’t tell him," she whimpered, her hands gripping the cotton of her sweats. Emerald had told her not to tell them the truth about Spike, for reasons she didn’t have time to ask. The woman had stressed it as imperative that if all else failed and she were to tell someone, that it not be Spike. Again, Faith wasn't sure of the reasoning, just that she'd follow it.

A light wind swept through the room and the three women on the couch whirled their heads around to the kitchen. Spike raced in, game face at the ready, as he surveyed the room with a snarl.

"Where's Dawn?" He growled at the three women on the couch before his vision caught the stunned form of his slayer. He was by her side in the blink of an eye, his human visage now firmly in place as he grabbed Buffy by the shoulders.

"Slayer," he said, concern filling his voice, "what's wrong? You're not gonna go all wonky on us again, are you?" He forced a semblance of levity in his tone that he was sorely lacking.

Buffy managed to tear her gaze from Faith and fixed it on the blond standing in front of her. It took her a moment to focus in on his face and even when she did, everything still maintained the surrealism only living in Sunnydale could produce. Her gaze was drawn to the blue orbs that were, for all intents and purposes, the soul of this soulless monster-no, man-in front of her. Her glazed vision registered the wan smile formed by his bloodless lips. Buffy traced a thumb across his lower lip, amazed at the softness. She saw his eyes shutter closed for a second before he opened them. She vaguely recognized the feel of his lips moving beneath her fingertip. He was trying to say something…'damn?' 'Dawn?' And then it hit her.

"Dawn," she gasped, her chest constricting at the thought of her little sister taken from her again.

"Sh-she was kidnapped," Tara stammered, rising out of her seat along with the other two women. She cautiously made her way over to the two blondes who stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Seth took her," it was Faith this time. She risked a furtive glance at Buffy, pleading for her silence. The blond narrowed her eyes before giving Faith an imperceptible nod. The future slayer had to resist the overwhelming urge to expel her relief in a sigh but it was a fleeting impulse. She stood by them, her back to the kitchen as she regained her razor focus.

"Seth. He's Gabriel's lieutenant. He was the one I was…running from," she finished the latter with all the conviction of a three year old. No matter her focus, Faith knew that she would never be strong when it came to talking about Seth. Well, at least not by herself. Maybe if these people could lend her strength, maybe, just maybe, she would finally deal.

"He's the reason for her scars," Willow burst in, her voice filled with fire. She had glared poignantly at Spike when she spoke, her eyes trying to convey the information she wanted to tell him.

Spike dropped his hands from Buffy's shoulders after Willow had spoken. A far too inhuman growl resonated from his gut and his head whipped around to Faith. He raised a tentative hand to her face, tracing the jagged scar marring her otherwise immaculate features. He couldn’t stop his hand from shaking as his fingertips traced the horrible imperfection from her forehead to just above her chin. The demon within him screamed for vengeance. Why it cared for this girl, he did not question. His only concern was to control the beast within until he could unleash it on the creature that dared lay its hands on his surrogate-daughter.

He forced his trembling limb to his side. One objective at a time, he chided. He ran his hands through his tangled locks, his feet carrying him from the crowd of females to a corner of the room.

"Seth? Did he follow you? How did he know you were here? What happened?" Buffy demanded.

"I don’t know," Faith conceded. How did he know how to get to her? There was only one answer to that particular question; an answer Faith didn’t want to acknowledge. "But don’t worry, he won't harm her. He wants me and only me," Faith assured.

"Well, he ain't gonna get you, pet," Spike growled, his back facing the women.

"Spike is right," Buffy replied, her voice was still shaky yet fused with control. "We're not gonna let him just take you without a fight." Despite the bravado, Buffy felt sick to her stomach at the thought of what this Seth could be doing to her sister. If she hadn't have been messing around with Spike…

"He also wants the locket," Faith added, wrenching Buffy from her guilt-laced conscience.

"Oh, I have it," Buffy announced. She dug her small hand into her pocket and engulfed the tiny metal in her right palm where she found it was warm. "Wow," she whistled, handing it to Faith. "It wasn’t this warm when we found it."

Faith dangled the locket in front of her face, studying it. She closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply before exhaling, refocusing her eyes on the silver piece in front of her. "It's been used," she stated. "Did either one of you get hurt?" she asked, looping the chain around her neck. The duality of the cool chain versus the warmth of the locket nestled just above her breasts calmed Faith immensely. Much of the tension was drained from her as she waited for one of the two blondes to answer.

"Spike…" Buffy said, unable to keep the slight crack from her voice, "he almost got staked. They just missed his heart, but still…"

"What?" Willow asked.

"When we were…when I saw it, it was almost healed, as if nothing had really happened. I know vampires heal quickly but…"

"It was the locket," Faith interjected. "It has healing properties that kick in automatically in the presence of," me or my parents, she thought to herself but said, "those whose purpose is pure." She almost made a face, the incredulity of the reasoning shaky even to her.

"Nuthin's pure 'bout me, luv," Spike smirked, finally turning toward the women.

Faith couldn’t help but smirk back. "We all know that, Mr. Big Bad. But your purpose tonight with Buffy was pure. You were out there looking for this for me because you wanted to, not because you wanted to impress anyone." She held his gaze until he looked away, muttering 'whatever' under his breath. Guess you're gonna hold onto that Big Bad persona kicking and screaming, Faith thought amusedly. She also hid her relief that no one seemed like there were going to pursue the matter further.

"Do you know who attacked you?" Willow directed to Buffy.

"Five vamps and some sort of shadow thingy is all I can tell you. Even Spike had trouble keeping up with the shadow puppet."

"So they must have split up," Faith thought pensively. When she caught Buffy's perplexed look, she explained. "A little after you guys left, I had a run-in with three Flanzen'da demons out back," she said, one hand firmly on her hip as the other fidgeted with her strawberry blond locks.

"Flamingo huh?" Buffy scowled in confusion.

"Flanzen'da demons, luv," Spike corrected from his position in the corner. "Nasty buggers. Covered with a thick hide and right wicked bone protrusions from their…well, from pretty much everywhere. Though I don’t know why they'd fancy this place. Don’t like to much fraternizing with other denizens of the demonic persuasion." He fished a cigarette from the inside pocket of his duster and shoved it between his lips. He pulled his silver Zippo out, igniting it and nervously brought it to his lips when he felt the weight of four pair of eyes burrow into him.

"What?" he asked flabbergasted and stared into the eyes of his love, her gaze nullifying any retort. "Fine, then," he snapped the lighter shut. The fag hung loosely from his lips and he stood defiantly, his hands thrust deep into his duster.

Buffy rolled her eyes and returned her attention back to Faith. If it weren't for the current situation, she would definitely take advantage to tease Spike for his obvious sulking. "But when we got to the front, I felt something like a vampire…only not," Buffy conceded.

"That was Seth," Faith said flatly. "And yes, he is a vampire."

Buffy furrowed her brow and craned her neck to the side in the general direction of the front door and back again. "So, the Flanzen'da demons busted the door…"

"No…that w-was th-the vampire," Tara said, wincing at the slow ache creeping back up into her arm.

Buffy noticed for the first time the haggard expressions on the two Wiccas faces. "Did he get in here?" They nodded. "But how?"

"Seth's not your typical vampire," Faith said. She spent the next ten minutes bringing the vampire and slayer up to speed on the night's events.

"And you guys are okay?" She cast concerned glances towards the two Wiccas.

"Well," Willow quipped, "as okay as can be having your arm, you know, ripped from the nestle-y part of the shoulder can get."

"Yeah, and t-the concussion," Tara added, waving her hand, "was not a problem, either. Other than leaving you with the nausea and ringing sensation in your ears…" Tara blushed at the look of surprise etched across Buffy's face.

"So, he doesn’t have to be invited in, is what you're saying," Buffy asked, shaking off Tara's sardonic remarks. She sat in the recliner, staring over at the three women who had retaken their seats on the couch. Though he was no longer in the corner, Spike stood behind Buffy like a sentinel, daring anyone or anything to try to take her.

"That's about it. Other than the natural afflictions to the sun and holy items, standard methods of killing, such as stakes and immolation…out the window," Faith informed. "And what with the prophecy and all, I'm not even sure that the sun would be of use."

"So the Nibblet will be alright?" an unusually anxious Spike asked.

"Yeah," Faith assured. She really didn’t want to get into the reasons why she knew this, but knew she had to assuage their concerns. "As long as he has me…in his sights," she took a deep breath, "he won't bother her."

"He won't hurt you again, Faith," Tara affirmed. Everyone was taken aback at the vehemence behind her statement.

"So he wants us at the Bronze at twelve? Why?" Buffy inquired.

"Don’t know," Faith answered, absently nibbling at her thumbnail, lost in thought. It was weird. After she had calmed from her hysterics, Faith had asked herself that same question. She was right there, for the taking, yet he took Dawn instead. Something was definitely out of order but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Something else is going on," Buffy said, intimating her daughter's thoughts. "What do you think, Spike," she turned around only to be greeted by empty space. "Spike? Where did he go?" She asked the three women.

"I don’t know," Willow conceded, "I didn’t see him leave."

Buffy stood up, to look for the vampire when a hand grabbed her by the arm.

"I'll get him," Tara said, her smile slackening the mounting tension creeping back into the Buffy's muscles.

"Thanks, Tara." Buffy tenderly squeezed the Wicca's hand. The blond slipped through the hall and into the kitchen without another word.

"Well, I'm gonna give Xander a call, let him know you're back and see how he's doing," Willow said standing. She nervously brushed imaginary lint from her shirt before heading towards the stairs.

"Willow," Buffy called and her best friend turned around, "tell Xander I hope he's feeling better. And that we'll be at the Magic Box tomorrow to research this prophecy." Willow nodded and disappeared up the steps.

Buffy dropped her eyes to her boots, studying the scuffs in them intently. "So, are you sure Dawn will be okay, Faith?" She asked.

"Trust me, he won't harm her. He wouldn’t. Not when he has me to look forward to. He'll just use her as leverage. He won't snack on her or…anything else." Buffy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding at Faith's assurance. Though Buffy wasn’t one to go on reassurance, part of her knew that Dawn would be fine, just like always.

"Good," she said, turning to Faith. She strode over to her daughter, taking a seat on the couch next to her. Her gaze was hard yet unreadable. "Because we need to talk."

CHAPTER 23

He stood in the bottom of the steps, arms tensed at his sides restlessly. For the fifth time in as many minutes, he ran his fingers through his tussle of blond hair. He peered out into the night sky; some of it still blanketed by the gray clouds while small patches of stars were now becoming visible through the migrating clouds. He sighed audibly, pinching another cigarette from the pack stashed in his inner pocket. He twirled it around in his fingers, admiringly, before situating it between his lips. He had already disposed of two fags since slipping away, his mind desperately inhaling the nicotine, depending on the substance to rid him of the familiar sense of failure that seemed to follow him where ever he went.

He ignited his lighter with a growl and was lost in the orange life of the flame. It danced and swayed in the slight breeze that whispered through the night, flickering as if it would cease its litany of movement, only to take it up once again with a renewed vigor. He laughed humorlessly. As much as fire reminded him of the all too fragile existence of life, strong and passionate one moment and burned away in the next, the stubborn flame before him was more akin to an unpleasant memory. They were formless and danced with the selfsame seductiveness, unable to be captured, refusing to be extinguished and flaring up when you had thought they had been stamped out. It was then that you discovered they would continue to burn until they consumed you. And Spike was slowly being devoured by the inferno that was his ineptitude.

So lost in his thoughts, the vampire didn’t sense the timid figure that walked out the door and onto the porch. She stood there, unsure of what to do or say for several minutes, watching tendrils of smoke rise from his lips into the cool night air. His head was tilted toward the sky as if he was searching for an answer. It wasn’t until he cocked his head to the side that she knew she had been discovered.

"Come to watch me, luv, or do you have something to say?" he asked flatly. A year ago, such a tone would have sent Tara back into the kitchen, stammering out an apology. But she had changed a lot in a year. Then again, she really didn’t have much of a choice, being a Scoobie pretty much required constant change and adaptation to things.

"I--I," she stuttered out, her nervousness not a result of his tone, but her insecurity as what to say. She took a deep breath and forced the determination to the surface. "I came to see how you were doing," she offered as she walked up behind him. She rested her right hand on the banister and winced at the dull ache still present in her shoulder. Yeah, after all this was over, she had to get to a doctor. She dropped the injured arm to her side and leaned back against the banister. She studied the sharp contours of the vampire's profile in front of her. Though not of the heterosexual persuasion, Tara wasn't blind. The sharp angles of Spike's cheeks coupled with his piercing blue eyes gave him the look of a beautiful assassin, alluring yet deadly. But there was something else too that he tried so desperately to hide with his all too often scowls and grunts of indifference. Despite his commonly feral temperament, there was a softness about him that he rarely showed. If it wasn’t for her observant nature, Tara doubted she would have ever discovered that side of him. As it was, she only saw it whenever Buffy walked into the room or when Dawn presented him with that hero-worship smile of hers. Even in his grief during Buffy's absence, he'd let his guard down anytime he heard his Nibblet laugh, which hadn't been too often. But there had been one other time he had shown it and even in her haze of pain, she had seen it. It had been the day in the Magic Box when her family had returned to take her back. Though he said he like her father for his chicanery into convincing her she was a demon, he had shot her a furtive glance, smiling at her with his eyes. She had thought she imagined it then but as she spent more time around him, she knew it wasn’t a trick of the light.

"Doin' fine, luv. No need to worry," he returned, and tossed the used up fag to the ground, smashing it with a booted toe. Tara didn’t reply and Spike felt her gaze intensify ever so slightly. He cocked her an annoyed look, running his hand through his hair (again) before growling at her.

"Something, I can help you with, Tinker?" He tried to get angry, just so she'd go away but one look into her eyes and he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, he had no right to be angry, what with this all being his fault.

"What is it?" She asked as her brow furrowed in concern. She could feel the constriction of his body, like he was going to jump out of his skin. She knew it had to do with Dawn but his insecurities were rooted much deeper than his Nibblet being taken.

"Hmmm, let's see," he said sardonically. He sighed loudly, his hands propped on his hips as he craned his neck to the sky, this time in mock indignation. After a few moments, his eyes found hers and the raw concern that stared back at him was almost enough to disarm his angst. But almost wasn’t enough.

"Aside from the fact I was almost a neat pile of dust earlier? Or the fact that the love of my life and un-life will have the poofter's child and I still trail at her side only to die by her hand? Which is not a bad way to go, I might add," The last part was said so casually that if she weren't more aware of the being in front of her, Tara would have missed the hurt in his voice. "To top it off," he added, "I manage to sh…to tie the slayer up so long in patrolling that lil' sis gets nabbed." He searches her intently before culminating his rant. "Anything else I forgot to mention?"

He stalked off, further into the yard, hands thrust in his pockets. Tara watched him for a few minutes, empathizing with him. It had been a rough two weeks for the vampire as Buffy had confided in her that she had ended her 'relationship' with him. He had been devastated, of course and had made himself scarce, other than patrolling or watching their backs. But she had caught them earlier and knew it was only a matter of time before Buffy realized what Tara had a while ago. She had been the only one Buffy trusted to talk to about everything and had spoken to her on several occasions after the break-up. The shrill tone of Buffy's voice and her morose attitude was a dead giveaway what she was feeling for the vampire.

She truly cared for Spike. But Tara knew it wasn’t as simple as that. As strong as Buffy was physically, emotionally, she was quite vulnerable, a trait that strengthened her resolve as 'Queen of Denial' more than anything. She had intimated to the slayer that maybe if she changed the dynamics of her and Spike's relationship, things might workout. But all she saw, at least in her words, was Spike as a soulless demon who'd quite possibly go on a killing spree the second the chip was out and it'd be Angel all over again. Sometimes Tara wondered if she knew Spike better than even Buffy did. She had seen the vampire a lot over the summer and the way he had been affected by her death. It didn’t help that for the first few weeks afterward, Xander had all but spoken his resentment of the vampire failing Buffy. And then one night, Xander had let all his feelings go, ripping into Spike for his ineptitude in keeping Dawn safe and Buffy from dying. Tara had seen the sheer agony his words had caused Spike as the vampire had left the shop. She had been the one to reach him then, following him to Buffy's grave where he cried and, after awhile, she walked from the shadows and joined him in his grief, her arm wrapped around his shoulders. They never spoke about it and it was all still fresh in her mind. That was why she knew what it was that plagued him now.

Tara made her way down the rest of the steps and slowly walked up to him. She stood in front of him, looking up into his pale eyes.

"It's not your fault," she said softly. Spike looked at her dazed. What did she mean by that? How did she…?

"What are you babblin' about, luv?" He asked, his tone shakier than he would have liked. He nervously raked his pockets for his pack of fags, only to come up with an empty pack. "Bugger," he muttered to himself and started back toward the house when Tara's hand stopped him.

"Spike," she pled and this time he noted the genuine concern in her voice. It stopped him in his tracks as he waited for what she had to say. "You can beat yourself up all you want but it won't make a difference. All it will do is eat you up inside, consume you with guilt you shouldn’t feel. And in the end," she grabbed his hand for emphasis, "it's only going to hurt you when they need you most." Spike glared at the woman holding his hand in disbelief. What did she know? She didn’t know…but she did. Tara always had. Ever since the confrontation with her family, he knew she saw him in a light apart from all the stories she had been told about him. Then, there was the scene in the cemetery. In some ways, he felt more at ease around her than anyone else. Though he tried his damnedest to maintain his 'Big Bad' persona, Tara wasn’t fooled. And it was that reason he felt no shame when a tear trickled down his pale cheek.

"If we hadn't…" he began but faltered. He hoped Tara didn’t catch that. "If we'd have been here sooner…"

"It wouldn’t have mattered," Tara assured. "Besides, that’s not the only thing that’s bothering you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for Buffy dying."

Spike reeled at the last sentence. She was right. No matter what he did, no matter how much he rationalized, a part of him would always feel guilty for failing Buffy on that tower. Though she had been back for several months now, he still sometimes had the same dream where he saved her in so many ways. Other times, he’d dream about how he’d fail her next time. But he never did anything half-assed and when he failed, he failed miserably. Just like that spring night. Just like tonight.

"Spike, it wasn’t your fault. This isn’t your fault. And if you're looking for me to tell you how bad a person you are, or how this is your fault…you're talking to the wrong person." Tara said as if reading his thoughts. The last was said with an air of finality that produced a wan smile from the vampire.

"You're right, Tara. I know you are. It's just that sometimes…"

"You still see yourself as evil and if anything bad happens, especially to the people you care about, it has to be your fault." It wasn’t a question. Spike only smirked at the woman's perceptiveness.

"When did you get so bloody introspective, Tinker," Spike asked playfully.

Tara gave him her disarmingly sweet smile. "Always have been, you guys just never seem to ask me about things."

"I never asked you," he said giving her the raised eyebrow.

"Well…that's not the point, is it?" She replied and gave the unsuspecting vampire a warm hug.

Spike stared down at her before he awkwardly returned the embrace. After a few seconds, they stepped apart. Tara noticed Spike's insecurity as what to do next. He looked at her with the sheepish face of an eight-year-old. She smiled and patted him on the arm before walking to the door.

"I'm about to head back in," she called to him then stopped, remembering something. Spike turned to look at her questioningly.

"And Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"Everything’ll work out. Everything," she smiled wistfully before resuming her walk back into the house, the door closing slowly behind her.

Everything’ll work out? Spike thought, staring at where the blond witch had just been. His eyebrows knitted together in concentration. What did she mean by that? She had said it with such an air of confidence that he had no doubt that she knew something. Hey just didn’t know what that ‘something’ was.

Shaking the thought off, Spike returned his gaze to the slowly clearing sky. Tara was right. It wasn’t his fault that Dawn had been kidnapped; just like it wasn’t when Buffy died. He cringed at the still all too raw thoughts of failing Buffy…no, he didn’t fail her. He had done his best, all things considered. Was it his fault that it hadn't been good enough? His mind knew the answer was no but his heart had yet to be convinced.

CHAPTER 24

The two Summers women rocked back and forth pensively, waiting for the other to speak. Although Faith knew the ball was in her court, she didn’t know where to begin. There was so much she had to answer for yet she remained silent. If it were possible, maybe Buffy would ask her the wrong questions. She could give the right answers to those. One thing she didn’t want to do was lie. Buffy had never lied to her. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. There were a handful of occasions where her mother had dispensed with not-truths and keeping her in the dark about the prophecy and other things. But it had always been for a reason. Though she had become bitter for a time, as she matured she understood that sometimes the truth was the last thing you wanted to face. The truth made you face reality and you saw how harsh and cruel that reality could be. Living in your own fantasy world was infinitely easier, yet was it truly living?

"Is it true?" Buffy asked, her face grim with determination. Her eyes were filled with resolve and a touch of trepidation. What if it was true and Spike was Faith's father, what then? She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or even more fearful than when she thought it was Angel's. Relief would definitely come knowing she wasn’t some vampire bed-hopper who went to her first love for a quick turn in the sack. The fear was from the rationalization that if she were ever to have a child, it would be out of love; a love she would give with her heart and soul. And though she finally could admit to herself that she did care for Spike, did that necessarily equate to the love she always imagined would produce a child? She was so confused, yet her outer shell hid the tumultuous emotions raging inside her. Her whole body ached with tension and it was from sheer force of will that she remained still, her hands clasped together in her lap.

Faith couldn’t look her mother in the eye for more than a second or two at a time. Buffy's glistening eyes screamed at Faith for the truth. But they also trembled with the knowledge that the truth would be something she didn’t want to hear. Spike didn’t have a soul and it had taken Buffy years before she realized that it didn’t matter…

"It's true," Faith whispered, her eyes remained fixed on the carpet.

Buffy gasped as the truth spilled from Faith’s lips in two simple words. Her and Spike…with a child? Buffy felt the all too familiar ache of tension creep into her muscles. Her heart threatened to explode from her chest as her lungs begged for oxygen she could not give. She closed her eyes and tears she did not know were there spilled down her cheeks. She saw Spike in her mind, all the things he was, all the things he had done. She saw what they were at one time, mortal enemies, neither ever having the advantage. Her memories shifted as she saw what he was now, what he was to her. Her lover, her patrol partner, her one constant in life. And still, they were equal. She remembered the night in the alley, her fists bruised from slamming into his face as he lay there, passive. "You only hurt the one you love," he had said to her, smirking under an abundance of bruises. She had hurt him deeply that night, but it wasn’t just physical, it ran far deeper. And she was armed with the knowledge that her slightest barb could cut him deeper than her fists ever could. But as she held that advantage, he knew that despite her denial, she couldn’t resist him. And the more she came to him, the more the field of play came to becoming even once again.

Buffy snapped out of the deluge of memories that bombarded her. She ran her shaky hands through her hair, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. She had no idea what to do. Since she had been back, she had yet to experience the full assault of human emotions. They had come and gone, though they were always diluted, her apathy of the world in general dulling them to shadows of feeling. How she had wanted to feel again. She had felt with Spike, felt alive as if for the first time but it wasn’t enough. With Spike her only release, she was dying, albeit slowly. She needed to feel on her own again, without her lover’s touch to rekindle the fire she had lost in her re-birth. She prayed to God that one day she would become the person she once was.

If only God had not been listening to her.

The moment Faith had uttered those two words, everything was lost in a tailspin and Buffy was invaded by feelings she thought long forgotten. Relief and hope mixed with excitement and terror, not to mention her mainstay of denial as it all gelled within her mind, propelling her thoughts even faster into the realms of the unknown.

"Why?" She heard herself finally speak, her voice full of barely contained emotion. She wiped the tears away roughly with the back of her hand and waited for her daughter to look at her.

"Why didn’t you tell us?" She asked again, a hint of anger creeping into her uncertainty. Faith's resolve strengthened and she finally made eye contact and the gleaming jewels of light that looked back at Faith broke her heart. Faith knew this was likely the reason Emerald had told her to be vague when discussing her true father. It had taken Buffy years to accept Spike and this knowledge that she would give birth to his child probably frightened her more than anything. She probably wanted to run, run far away from this house, her sister, friends, and especially him.

Buffy could see the conflict of emotions waging war inside of Faith and she wondered if her own fears were as evident. She tried to remain patient as Faith was undoubtedly wrestling with what to say. She knew there had to be a reason as to why this 'small' tidbit of information had been kept from all of them, she just didn’t know if it would be enough to mete her current bout of discord. So she waited, her fists balled tightly in her lap, her fingernails dug into her pails, creating all too familiar crescent indentations as she earnestly clung to her last remains of patience.

As her last bout of self-restraint broke from its moorings, Faith finally discovered her voice.

"I'm sorry, Buf…Mum. I'm sorry I didn’t tell you the truth but…"

"But what?" Buffy snapped. Her temper had gotten the best of her and all other emotions took a back seat to the familiar and comfortable fervor of hostility. She stood briskly, her body taut with anger as her eyes burrowed into the girl before her. "So what? You thought you'd have a laugh? You thought it was funny to let us think that Angel was your father? Were you gonna even tell us the truth?" She yelled, her arms flailing wildly.

"No," Faith whispered.

"No, you weren't gonna tell us?" She nodded. Buffy she her eyes tightly, trying not to let her anger get the best of her. Hell, if this was Spike, I'd have probably wailed on him by now, she thought bitterly.

"Spike. Oh my God," Buffy said to herself as it truly hit her. "Spike is the father of my child," she repeated, lowering herself back into the chair, her anger all but gone. Saying it out loud had made it real and it wasn’t something she could take back. That was the funny thing with words; once they were said, there was no turning back. Was that the reason she was never honest with Spike? Why she could never tell him she really cared? 'I want you' was easy, there was no emotional attachment to it all but to say something as small as 'I care'…well, she didn’t want to go there.

But she did care. She cared for him even more than she would allow herself to admit, much less say. He knew, bless his undead heart, but knowing that she cared and hearing it from her were worlds apart. The only words that ushered from her lips were ones designed to cut him to the core, to emasculate and eviscerate him. To belittle him to the point of…of what? Why was she so cruel? Why did she want to hurt him so much with her words and her fists? This had been the first time she had ever been honest about her actions toward him, the first time she realized how much of a bitch she really was to him. The thing was, she couldn’t come up with even a half decent answer to it. How could she? How could she have a child by a man…a creature she didn’t like half the time?

Faith had seen Buffy's transformation from seething slayer to a mannequin of confusion. She watched as Buffy stared vacantly at the floor, her thoughts obviously grasping the reality of it all. What would happen now? Would this help her accept him more readily or would she push him away as Faith knew her mother had done so often to others. What she hadn't been told by her mother, Emerald had shared with Faith before she had left. No, Buffy was far from accepting Spike and what he was. And if it went unchecked, Buffy might do something that would effect everything that was to follow.

Instinctively, Faith walked over to the huddled slayer. She knelt in from of Buffy and placed her hand on Buffy's knee. The slayer jerked at the contact, her glassy stare floating towards the blue/green whirlpool of Faith's eyes. It pained Faith to see her mother like this. She had only seen this type of despair twice. Once when Willow and Tara had been killed. And the second time…

Faith's insides lurched as she thought back to the last time she had seen her mother. She had been so hurt and angry at what she had seen; she had left the crushed Buffy alone. The shame of it all hit her for the first time and silent tears of guilt flowed freely down her face.

Unknown to Buffy, her and her daughter both lamented over the shame of their actions. Faith's tears had quelled some of Buffy's inner turmoil, bringing her back to current events. This girl, this woman before her, was her child. Produced by the unnatural union of vampire and slayer. It was all too much, and yet, it was what she needed. She didn’t understand and wouldn’t pretend to, but she could at least dispel some of the questions revolving around in her mind.

"How? I mean, I thought vampires were a big no-go when it came to reproduction."

Faith smiled lightly. "An after-effect of both of you exposed to the Rune of Amarra."

"The Rune of Amarra?" Buffy repeated but Faith waved her hand dismissively.

"It was a part of the prophecy. Part of your essences transferred to one another. Your life essence provided him with minor shielding from the sun and gave him the ability to create life." Faith explained in the simplest possible terms. In actuality, it had been much more in depth. Buffy and Spike had conquered seemingly insurmountable odds in order to lay claim to the Rune. It had be only one of their many victories against evil.

"Why?" she asked Faith, her hand tenderly wiping the tears from the young woman's eyes. "Why didn’t you tell us?"

Buffy's words snapped Faith out of her thoughts. Expecting disdain, Faith had been taken aback by the compassion in Buffy's tone. She closed her eyes when Buffy's hand cupped her cheek and Faith overlaid her own hand on top of Buffy's and just looked at her. Separated by more than forty years, she was finally reunited with her mother. How long it would last, Faith dared not venture to contemplate, but she would not waste what precious moments fate had given her by concealing it all with lies.

Taking a deep breath, Faith repositioned herself and sat cross-legged in front of her mother. She would tell her as much as she could.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I'm so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier but…"

"But what? Do you hate me that much for what I've done…or what I'm going to do to get revenge on me?" She instantly regretted her words as a look of horror flashed across Faith's features. As quick as it was there, however, it vanished, replace with an unreadable mask, the only trace of diffidence was Faith's reluctance to maintain eye contact. Just like Spike, she thought to her self in a bittersweet frame of mind.

"I deserved that. No," Faith held up her hand when Buffy motioned to speak, "you're right. I did hate you. I hated you for what you did to Daddy. I hated you with every fiber of my being." She finally raised her eyes and Buffy was taken back by their disgust. "But more than you, I hated myself. I hated myself for letting you do that to him. I hated myself for not finding a better solution to it all. For not being mature enough to understand what you two were sacrificing for me and everyone else in the world. But most of all," her eyes again fell to the floor, "I hated myself for abandoning you. I know I said you left me, but in truth, I was the one that left you. And that is something I have to live with for the rest of my life."

Buffy was stunned. How did she respond to such a disturbingly heartfelt confession? She didn’t know, so she surmised that silence was the best option.

It took a few moments before Faith gathered the strength to continue. "But now’s not the time for that. I know I wasn’t truthful as far as the whole fatherly thing goes, but it wasn’t because I wanted to get back at you. It wasn’t even my bloody idea to keep it from you."

"Then who?"

"Emerald. The woman who helped me get here," Faith absently fingered the locket that hung loosely around her neck, "she was the one. She told me…not to tell you."

"Oh, and you should really take the word of a psycho-bitch that's the right-hand of the vampire that basically rules the world. And that's not even bringing up the fact that she sicced a pit bull of a vamp on you," Buffy said sardonically.

Faith rolled her eyes in irritation. Though Buffy was right, she still didn’t know it all. To be honest, Faith didn’t either. Still, she was none too pleased at her mother's huffy attitude, though warranted. She had always wanted to knock Buffy off that pedestal she stood on if only for a moment. Nothing hurtful, just the truth.

"Well, that 'psycho-bitch' made sure nothing happened to you." Faith smiled inwardly as Buffy's face distorted with confusion.

"Huh?"

"When I…left you, Gabriel's minions had caught up with us," she was unable to meet Buffy's bewildered eyes as she spoke, "and I left you there, crying in the streets. I didn’t even help you when they surrounded you, and you didn’t even fight back."

Buffy only gaped at the woman, who now looked so much like a little girl, in disbelief. She was hurt by Faith's admission that her only daughter would leave her practically defenseless in the teeth of the enemy but even more so by the knowledge that Emerald…protected her?

"Why?" Buffy managed.

"Don’t know," she lied. One oversight wouldn’t hurt. "Said you reminded her of someone." Well, at least that part is slightly accurate, considering she was your sister.

"And this Gabriel guy," Buffy barreled ahead, "he didn’t kill me because?"

"Not sure, but I think he wasn’t too keen on the prophecy. I know it said that only through death at the hands of a loved one would he be weak enough for me to kill him, but I really don’t think he wanted to take the chance that it was false. I mean, considering the fact that the prophecy of his own destiny was altered by some time-hopping freak and that An…" She stopped. She had almost forgetting that Buffy didn’t know about Angel and Connor. Gotta watch that tongue, girly, she reprimanded herself. "Anyway, the why's not important, just that Emerald made sure none of Gabriel's demons lay a hand on you.

Realizing that this would only open up another line of questioning, Faith impatiently waved off the perplexed slayer. "But anywho, that's not really important now. I just wanted you to know why I took her word and didn’t tell you guys."

But Buffy still wasn’t sold on this mystic woman. "So if she had so much clout, then why did she let Seth…hurt you?"

Faith's heart lurched at the reminder. Not of Seth but of Dawn's…no, Emerald's failure to stand up for her as she did Buffy. In Emerald's defense, she did in fact share blood with the slayer so it would stand to reason that the First that inhabited her was in control by that time still maintained a sliver of love for Buffy. Before It had overtaken Dawn, she had been a part of Faith's life for ten years. But what was ten years compared to the forty-plus she had shared with Buffy? No, it's not important, Faith lied to herself. Despite all her rationalizations, Emerald not coming to her aid in those nine months hurt almost as much as the things Seth had done to her.

"It doesn’t matter," she replied coolly, shaking off the searing pain within. "What matters is that, aside from being a dimensional diva with the portals and all, Emerald is somewhat of a seer."

"Damn," Buffy whistled, "what doesn’t this lady do?"

Faith cracked a small smile before continuing. "Anyway, she had told me to keep it away from everyone and at all costs, from Spike."

"Yeah, but I don’t get why. I mean, is he gonna head for the proverbial hills when he finds out? I mean, because I can't take another guy leavin…" she slammed her eyelids shut when she realized she had spoken the last part aloud.

Faith's heart went out to her mother. Buffy's whole life had been marred by people going away, either in the throes of death or otherwise. She knew her mother didn’t love Spike now (at least she didn’t think she did) but he had always been the mainstay of Buffy's life, either as an enemy or ally. How could she tell Buffy the truth about it all?

"The truth, Mum? If he does find out, Emerald said he would die." Brutal honesty had always been Faith's strong suit; a trait definitely passed on to her by Spike.

Buffy laughed harshly at the simplicity of Faith's words. Spike? Die? Impossible. She had never thought about him dying…well that wasn’t exactly true. The whole Parent-teacher incident took her to flights of fancy, envisioning him at the pointy end of a stake. Then there was the whole Gem of Amarra incident. And she wasn’t even going to think about the Buffy-bot fiasco. Okay, so she did think about him changing his name to 'Mr. Dusty', but only by her hands. If she couldn’t kill him, then he was off limits. Period. End of story. Hell, if he could withstand the torture of a hell-god, what was the itty-bitty truth of finding out he had a daughter?

"How?" Buffy asked as her harsh laughs died down. "I mean, how can the knowledge that he is your daughter kill him?"

Faith shrugged. "All I know is what Emerald said."

"So she told you that if Spike found out, he would die?"

"Yeah," Faith started but then hesitated. Buffy caught the slight pause.

"What?"

"Well…she didn’t exactly use his name," she conceded.

"Well, what did she use? Some type of alias, like 'Dead Boy'? The Platinum Express? Captain Peroxide?" Buffy threw out in exasperation. The thought of Spike dying, however vague the reference was, unsettled her.

"Well, like I said, Emerald is a seer of sorts. And you know how seers tend to be cryptic." Seeing her mother's eyes narrow, Faith threw up her hands. "Oh, bloody hell, woman. You know that Rule No. One in the Seers Guide to Future Reading states that 'I do solemnly swear that I will dictate my visions as vague as possible, allowing said visions to be construed in no more than seven (7) distinct and/or literal translations'."

Buffy giggled at her daughter's irritation with her and the obvious memo she herself had not received on seers. But she did know a little about prophecies and that definitely sounded accurate.

"Okay, so what did she say, exactly?"

"That 'the warrior shaded in darkness yet pulled toward light' would die if they found out. She also said that this warrior was 'ripped from life and now is eternal'. Well, that was paraphrasing her. She spoke it in Latin. And I didn’t want to bore you with all the 'ad's' and '-iuss', ya know?" She smiled at Buffy who returned it and for an instant, the mood had become something other than dire. But the seriousness of the situation returned as Faith got to her knees and took Buffy's hands in hers. All hints of life disappeared from Faith save for the piercing gaze of her eyes. Buffy was taken aback at how still she was now. Definitely a trait from Daddy.

"Mum, you can't tell Daddy about me. You just can't…" Faith's majestic eyes brimmed with tears but they did not fall. "I've lost him once already, I can't lose him again." She lay her head in Buffy's lap, comforted by her mother's hand stroking her hair. Faith closed her eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of Buffy's heartbeat.

"Neither can I," Buffy whispered, "Neither can I." And for the second time in the span of a few hours, Faith was reminded of the almost forgotten feeling of love. Hope had once again risen within her at the conviction in her mother's voice. Before she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts mostly filled with the fantasy that things would, indeed, turn out right this time.

She ignored the inkling of doubt that 'tomorrow' never ended up how you planned it. But that was life; it had a way of steering off course when you least expected it, dragging you, kicking and screaming into the harsh domains of reality.

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