Across town, in a makeshift studio apartment located in the rear of a deserted warehouse, Faith splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to clear her mind. For weeks, she’d felt weird, like she was constantly in a stupor. She wondered about the big white pills those two Council guys kept giving her.

She looked at her reflection starting back at her from the bathroom mirror. The eyes suddenly narrowed and the face smirked. “You know what you are?” it said.

Faith blinked hard and shook her head.

“You’re nothing,” the image continued. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve got no one. You’re nothing.”

“That’s not true,” Faith whispered.

“What are you trying to prove, anyway?” her reflection sneered. “Who’re you trying to be? You’re not her…never gonna be her. Little Miss Perfect. That’s not you.”

“Stop it!”

“You know the only thing you were ever good at was being bad. You can be bad. Be bad! Be evil! Be something!”

“No! You’re not real!” Faith smashed the mirror with her fist. Shards of glass fell into the bathroom sink and onto the floor. The Slayer stared at the blood on her hands and sank to the cold linoleum.

Glancing down, she saw dozens of faces looking up at her from the scattered pieces of broken mirror. She picked up a large, knife-like shard and held it to her chest. ‘You can end this right here.’ She gripped it tightly, causing it to cut into her fingers. ‘Everyone will be better off. A new Slayer will be called…a real Slayer.’

Faith dropped the shard and covered her face with her blood-smeared hands. “No. No. No,” she whimpered, bowing down low so that her forehead almost touched the floor. She was so afraid-always afraid. Despite her Slayer strength, she was weak inside. She always had been.

The door to the bathroom opened suddenly and one of the Council henchmen walked in. Faith wept silently, not looking up. Collin Danvers, a tall man with short brown hair, paused as he stared down at her. She lay prone on the floor as if praying to some ancient god.

He knelt down next to her and placed a hand on her back. “Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”

Faith didn’t answer. She didn’t move.

Another man entered the room. This one had a ruddy complexion and reddish blond hair. “What’s going on?” Leslie King asked his associate.

Danvers looked up. “I don’t know. Looks like she may’ve had an accident.”

King snorted in response. “She’s a mess. I don’t know what the Council could’ve been thinking. I’d better let Travers know about this.”

“No!” Danvers said, looking worried. “I think the drugs are messing with her head. Maybe we should lower the dose.”

King looked doubtful. “I don’t know. I think our orders are pretty clear…if anything happens out of the ordinary, it needs to go on record.”

“I’ll take full responsibility. This girl…she deserves a chance.”

King smirked. “Going soft, are we Collin?”

“No,” Danvers replied. “It’s just that the Council has voted to give this girl a second chance. Our job is to help her along and keep her on track. I’m just doing my job, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, that’s your interpretation,” King muttered as he left the room.

Danvers turned his attention back to Faith. He gently helped her stand and wash the blood from her hands. He then led her to the adjoining room and to the small bed that was pushed up against the far wall. Dazed, she sat down and stared at her hands, which lay, palms up, in her lap. Danvers went back to the bathroom to hunt for first aid supplies. After a few minutes, he came back with some bandages and antibiotic ointment and tended to her cuts.

He smiled kindly at the Slayer. “You’ll be okay. Just get some rest. Tomorrow’s the big night.”

He patted Faith on the shoulder and she lay down on the bed. She closed her eyes as he exited through the door leading out to the warehouse.

* * *

Buffy emerged from the bathroom, dressed in tight black pants and a sheer, sleeveless white top. She immediately noticed that Spike was about to open the hotel room’s heavy draperies. It was ten in the morning.

“What…are you crazy?” she yelled, rushing over to stop him. “Sunlight-bad! Remember?”

Spike smiled at her. “Worried about me, luv?” He grabbed her around the waist and kissed the top of her head.

The Slayer looked up at him and frowned. “I was just…” she began.

The vampire smirked. “Don’t sweat it, sunshine.” Still holding her with one arm, he opened the drapes with the other. “I heard that it’d be cloudy today. No sun in sight. See?”

She glanced out the window and noted that it was indeed a gloomy day. “But how…?” she asked.

Spike looked smug. “Em took care of it. Spell of some sort. The city’s ours, luv. Whatever you want to do…” He gave her a squeeze and nuzzled her ear.

“Mmmmh.” Buffy closed her eyes, distracted by the sensations that Spike aroused in her.

“So,” Spike said, grinning down at her. “What would you like to do today?”

* * *

“You did the right thing,” Quentin Travers said, absently drumming his fingers on the heavy wooden desk in front of him. “Faith’s unstable. I don’t care what the so-called experts all say. The girl’s a liability to us.”

Sitting across from him, Leslie King nodded gravely. “Collin doesn’t agree. Thinks she deserves a chance.”

“Collin’s what the Americans call a ‘boy scout’. His intentions are good but…” Travers shook his head. “No, I think it’s time we switch to the alternate plan. I trust that you’ll take care of it.”

“Consider it done.” King got up and headed for the door.

“Leslie?”

King paused and turned to look at his superior.

“Just remember. We’re the good guys.” Travers smiled but his eyes remained cold.

“Right,” King muttered quietly as he exited Travers’ office. “Good guys.”

Chapter 12 - Whispers and Moans

Buffy awoke with a start. There was something just a bit unsettling about waking up in the arms of a vampire. Spike’s head rested next to hers on the pillow. His chin touched her forehead and his lips just barely brushed her hair. His body was completely still-like a corpse.

She started to extricate herself from his embrace, but stopped when he began to stir. The vampire kissed her hair and his fingers caressed her below the waist. She closed her eyes and felt her traitorous body respond automatically to his masterful touch.

They’d spent all of yesterday like this-in bed, on the floor, in the shower… So much for seeing London. She felt all warm and pleasantly achy. But it was the morning of another day, surely this marathon had to stop…at least temporarily.

“Spike,” she said softly. His hands were now at the small of her back and he was gently pulling her against him.

“Mmmm?” he murmured into her ear.

“I…uh…” she faltered.

Spike pushed back slightly and studied her face. “What’s wrong, luv?” he asked, looking concerned.

Buffy gazed into his blue eyes…so clear, so honest. ‘No. It’s a lie. This isn’t real.’ She bit her bottom lip and looked away. “I don’t love you,” she said with more conviction than she felt.

Spike’s body stiffened and his fingers dug into her skin. His face registered the hurt her words had caused. “I know you don’t,” he said, quietly resigned. He released her suddenly and lay back on the bed. “I guess I should just consider myself lucky…to be near you…to touch you as I have.” He ran his fingers along the length of her arm.

“Spike.” She rolled on her side and faced him. Hesitating, she reached over and traced the hollow under his cheekbone.

He turned away abruptly. “The only problem is,” he said softly. “I’m in love with you.” He looked back at her. “I know you don’t believe it…but it’s true. When I touch you, it means something-at least to me.”

Buffy blinked back tears. She opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.

Spike sighed. “You’ve changed me, pet. Shed light on my darkness, made me remember what it feels like to be a man.” He smiled sadly. “Sometimes, I can almost forget that I’m a monster.”

Tears streamed down Buffy’s face. “I wish…” Her throat tightened, preventing her from finishing her sentence.

Spike’s eyes glistened as he reached over and lovingly stroked her cheek, brushing away the wetness. “I do too, luv,” he murmured. He pulled her close and kissed her tenderly, making her forget, at least for a little while, the hurt they both felt.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Buffy lay in bed, watching Spike move about the room. He’d gotten dressed and was looking for his card key. He slipped on his duster and found it in the coat’s pocket.

“Where’re you going?” she asked, frowning. She propped herself up on one elbow. ‘Don’t leave me,’ she thought.

He looked at her, his face betraying the turmoil within him. “I’m just going out, pet,” he said gently. “To get some air.”

“Oh,” she said, looking distracted. ‘But vampires don’t breathe.’ She sat up and pulled the sheet around her. The thought of being alone-without him-left her feeling strangely empty.

Spike strode over to the bed, leaned over and lightly pressed his lips against her forehead. His eyes captured hers for a moment. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, attempting a smile. “I love you.”

She watched, helplessly, as he exited the room. The door swung shut behind him with what seemed like ominous finality. But…he’d said he’d return. She had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t.

* * *

As Spike hurried out of the hotel, he glanced up at the mid-afternoon sky and noticed that it was another cloudy day. Compliments of Emily, no doubt. Where was he going? He didn’t know. It didn’t matter. He kept walking, barely noticing his surroundings.

His thoughts were all a muddle-so bloody confused! The Slayer did this to him. Was she just playing with him? No, she was suffering as much as he was-tortured by guilt, most likely. He jaywalked across a busy street, ignoring shouts from angry motorists.

The vampire thought about the way Buffy responded to him. How she cried out, shivered, gasped…when he touched her. How she moaned softly as he made love to her and whispered all sorts of ‘nasties’ in her ear. Whispers and moans. He could still hear them echoing in his head-haunting him.

He stopped at a corner. Maybe it was time he finally faced the truth. The Slayer would never love him. He’d always known it. He looked down and spotted an ugly black beetle making its way across the bumpy concrete. What was it she’d said to him once?

His eyes narrowed as he studied the insect. Ah yes, he was beneath her. He angrily crushed the beetle under his boot. Of course, she’d been right. His love could only tarnish her. Evil or not, he couldn’t bear the thought of that happening. He loved her too much.

Spike realized what he needed to do. Emily could help. He hailed a cab and gave the driver directions to take him…home.

* * *

Buffy got out of bed and threw on the first thing she saw-one of Spike’s shirts. It smelled lightly of cigarettes and soap. She inhaled its scent and felt the hurt well up from deep inside of her as she thought of its owner. Tears. She hadn’t cried so much since Angel. But she’d loved Angel. She didn’t love Spike. She couldn’t.

She went to the bathroom and washed her face. Her reflection told her what she already knew. She was a wreck. Buffy stared at the girl in the mirror and wondered what it was Spike saw in her. He claimed to love her. He’d told her so, many times over. But, they were just words…they couldn’t be true. She patted her face dry with a soft towel.

‘Vampires can’t love. No soul, remember? He doesn’t really love you.’

The Slayer went back into the bedroom and for the first time noticed the fully stocked mini-bar. The tiny bottles seemed to be calling to her-little vials with magical potions. Potions that could numb the pain she felt. Methodically, she opened several bottles and poured their contents into a tall glass.

‘Witches brew.’ She drank it all down in one long swig. ‘Yuck!’ It tasted awful. ‘Need more!’ She reached for a miniature bottle of vodka.

After a few more drinks, Buffy had an idea. Maybe it was time that she looked at this whole thing with Spike in an objective, analytical way.

She went over to the desk in the corner of the room and found a pen and some paper in the drawer. Dropping down onto the straight-backed chair, she drew a line down the center of the sheet then wrote in wobbly lettering, “Pros” on the left side and “Cons” on the right. She chewed on the end the ballpoint pen and tried to concentrate. Her faculties already seemed to be working a bit slower than usual.

At first, the Slayer found it difficult to think of any “Pros”. ‘God, am I dim,’ she thought. Finally, she wrote down, “Great in Bed.” This was undeniably true-she had to give him that. ‘Of course,’ she thought. ‘He’s equally good in…many other places as well.’

Buffy thought harder. ‘Okay, I just thought of another one, “Helps with Patrolling and Other Stuff.” And oh, oh, howabout “Good Sense of Humor-Although a Bit Sick and Twisted.” Yeah, that was another good one. Hmmmm.’ She wrote down “Can Relate to the Whole Being Dead Thing-Although Not Necessarily the Being in Heaven Thing.”

‘Anything else? Wait, yeah…’ She wrote, “Loves Me a Lot.” ‘No!’ She shook her head. ‘Stupid drunken stupor!’ She scratched out the last one. ‘C’mon, we’ve just been through this! Vampires can’t love, remember?’ She’d almost forgotten-again!

Buffy moved on to the next category. She did a neck roll and stared at the word “Cons” for a few seconds. ‘Well, duh!’ She wrote down in big capital letters “EVIL!” She thought about writing down “Has Killed Tons of People” and “Has Tried to Kill ME” but decided that those were pretty much covered under “EVIL.”

The Slayer tapped her pen angrily against the desk then thought of another one. She scribbled down “My Friends Don’t Like Him.” She gazed at that one for a moment then crossed it out. ‘Lame!’ she thought.

Just then, another one hit her. ‘Can’t be true, but…Oh God! It was!’ She pondered this last one for quite a while, not sure if it belonged under “Pros” or “Cons.” Hesitantly, she shifted her writing hand to the “Pros” side of the paper and jotted down “I Love him.”

Buffy frowned and stared at the words. Suddenly, it all became as clear as the vodka she’d consumed earlier. ‘Damn!’ She decided that she’d have to tell him. ‘I really have to…” She passed out before completing her thought.

An uncharacteristic expression crossed Emily’s face-one of confusion. She stared at her brother and frowned. “I don’t understand, William,” she said. “If you really love this girl, why are you leaving her?”

Sighing, Spike leaned back in the worn leather chair. “Because I know she’s never going to love me,” he replied quietly.

“Perhaps I could do a spell,” she suggested.

“No. I wouldn’t want that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve already tried to make a go of it with a ‘Buffybot’…” He smiled briefly. “A spell would be no better. It wouldn’t be real. I’d like to think I’ve evolved past that.”

“But William-“

“Em, part of the problem is…I know I’m beneath her. I’d only bring her down.”

“Who’s to say you’re beneath her,” Emily protested, “that she’s better than you? We-“

“We’re monsters, Em. I know you said we can be more, but we’ve got no soul to guide us. The demon inside of us is too strong-you know it’s true.”

Emily frowned but didn’t speak.

“The Slayer, on the other hand, represents light and goodness-everything I’m not. My mirror image. She’s the reflection I lost over a century ago. I can see it now. “

“Always the poet, William,” Emily commented softly.

“I’ve already caused her enough hurt. But you can help me. A charm or spell, perhaps…to ease her pain.”

Emily nodded absently “And for you?”

Spike recalled Buffy once telling him that he was ‘in love with pain.’

His lips twisted into a sad smile. “I need to hold onto my pain,” he said, “to remind me. Maybe it’s the only thing we ever shared.”

* * *

The large, black car crawled down the deserted street. Spike stared out the window and absently fingered the small pouch that hung by a cord around his neck. A spell for Buffy. It was a bit of magic commonly used to help the grieving. All he had to do was scatter its contents over her-easy enough. Emily had assured him that it would work, and that it was safe. She’d even used it on herself once.

He hoped that it would help Buffy, and make her feel at home again with the living. She’d had a tough time adjusting to life after resurrection. Maybe the attraction she felt for him was just a metaphor-she was still clinging to death. He clenched the pouch, nearly causing the seams to burst, then let it go. He took a deep breath and stared out past the tinted glass.

They were taking the “scenic route”, passing through the demon part of town. Night was falling over London: The old buildings would soon be obscured in darkness.

Seated beside him, Emily looked out at the neglected city blocks. She couldn’t help but feel a certain rush whenever she entered the dark side of the city-where ‘their kind’ gathered. She saw a band of five vampires moving swiftly down the sidewalk and inched closer to the window, almost pressing her face against the glass. They were young, recently turned types, still relishing in their new-found power. She remembered those days well.

As Emily watched the vampires, her brother spotted a lone figure walking on the opposite side of the street. She was dressed in tight, black leather pants and a crimson, form-fitting top. Her long, wavy brown hair framed her face like a mane. To Spike she seemed vaguely familiar.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. Walking fast, the girl kept glancing across the street-at a gang of bloodsuckers. She was carrying something. A stick? No-a stake. He leaned forward, realizing who she was.

Faith.

Although he’d never met her before, he’d seen pictures of her in one of Buffy’s scrapbooks-back in his stalker days when he used to steal up to the Slayer’s room and go through her personal items.

On the night before last, he’d learned from Giles that Faith was in London.

Spike immediately thought of Buffy. He knew that Faith had caused her a lot of trouble in the past. From behind the car’s dark tinted windows, his eyes continued to follow her.

Was she on patrol? Unlike Buffy, he’d heard that Faith enjoyed slaying demons. But something seemed strange. Her gait appeared somewhat jerky and awkward-not fluid, graceful, and predatory like the natural movements of a slayer.

‘If Faith’s on patrol…’ Spike frowned. ‘Has the Council reinstated her? They couldn’t be that stupid!’ Faith was not to be trusted-of that much he was sure. What was she up to? He decided to investigate.

“Stop the car! I’m getting out!” he instructed the driver.

The driver looked over his shoulder but didn’t stop. He glanced at Emily.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked, turning to Spike.

“Nothing,” her Brother assured her. “I’ve just spotted an old…acquaintance.”

* * *

Spike followed Faith for a block or so. Staying back. Observing. Behind him, the dark Mercedes silently crept forward, blending in with the shadows. About ten feet in front of the Slayer, he noticed a tall, dark-haired man who kept looking over his shoulder every minute or so, as if checking on her.

Eventually, Faith made her move. She jogged over to the other side of the street and called to the small band of vamps she’d been tailing. “Hey! Fang Gang!” she yelled. He noticed that her voice quavered slightly.

The five vampires stopped and spun around. They boldly looked the Slayer up and down. The leader, a tall, lanky blood-sucker with a shaved head, sneered at Faith. He started to swing the heavy chain he’d been carrying, from left to right and back. “Looky here boys!” he snarled. “Lil’ girl here wants to play!” His lackeys laughed and started to approach the Slayer.

“Wait!” the leader barked, gesturing to the others to stay back as he edged forward. “I’m gonna have a bit of fun with this one first. Do you like games, lil’ girl?”

Faith looked pale. She shook her head and assumed a defensive stance. “Not really,” she replied softly.

“Too bad,” the head vampire said. “It’s really more fun…” he lunged forward and swung his chain, catching her by the ankle and pulling her off her feet, “if you play.” He advanced on her, but Faith rolled away and jumped to her feet before he could reach her.

“Fast,” he commented. He swung the chain at her head. This time, Faith caught it and pulled him down. She straddled him and raised her stake high above his heart, but the lackeys were upon her. They overpowered her, knocking away her stake and throwing her forcefully onto the sidewalk.

Lying on her back, Faith glanced up at the second floor window of a building on the opposite side of the street. She frowned. Leslie King’s crossbow was aimed in their direction, but why wasn’t he firing? Brow still furrowed, she turned her attention back to the vampires, now closing in on her.

Faith sprang to her feet and faced off against the undead gang members. A movement behind the converging fiends caught her attention. Collin Danvers managed to stake one of the lackeys from behind, before being thrown against a wall and knocked unconscious.

From across the street, Spike silently looked on as Faith fended off her attackers. He could see that she was in trouble-unarmed and outnumbered. ‘She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.’ He glanced at his sister’s black Mercedes and thought about leaving.

Hearing Faith cry out in pain, he returned his attention toward the fight scene. The Slayer appeared to be limping as she backed away from her attackers. He’d noticed that her fighting skills were clearly off that night. Her punches and kicks continued to miss their intended targets.

She wouldn’t last long without help. ‘Not my prob-‘

Spike clenched his teeth. “Balls!” He sprinted over to the other side of the street

Charging into the gang of fiends, he knocked two vamps onto the ground. He then grabbed Faith’s stake off the sidewalk and dusted the nearest one. He glanced at Faith, who was staring at him in disbelief. “C’mon!” he yelled. “You don’t expect me to do all your work?”

Suddenly, the lead vampire came from behind Spike and wrapped the chain tightly around the would-be rescuer’s neck. Spike felt the cold links digging into his skin. His attacker pulled on the chain with superhuman force.

Faith took a step toward Spike, but was intercepted by the two remaining lackeys. She managed to knock one of the vamps down with a swift kick to the solar plexus, but was hit in the temple by the other. Dazed, she stepped back and fell to the ground.

Another powerful tug on the chain and Spike started to see black. Suddenly, the chain fell away. Spike lurched forward onto his knees, grabbing his throat. The leader was now thrashing about, suspended by an invisible force, several feet above the ground.

Emily, her eyes glassy black, stood next to her car. Her arm was held out with an open palm. She raised her hand and the lead vampire shot up another couple feet.

“Adflicto,” she hissed, making a fist. This caused the vampire’s head to explode. Less than a second later, his body turned to ashes. Emily’s lips curled upwards with satisfaction.

She turned to another vampire and pointed. He flew against a nearby building and stayed there as if nailed to it. She pointed to the remaining fiend and he joined his friend on the wall. They stared at her in terror.

“Deputo.” She made a cutting gesture, moving her hand across her neck. Their heads rolled cleanly off their shoulders and ashes soon showered the sidewalk below.

Spike rose to his feet and walked over to Faith, who was still stunned. “Are you okay?” he asked, helping her to her feet.

“I…yeah,” Faith said, staring at him in shock. “Why’d you help me?” she asked.

“Because I’m evil,” he replied, smirking.

“Yeah, well, you’re like the last uh, person I’d have expected-“

Something whirred past Spike’s ear. A wooden arrow just grazed the top of the Slayer’s shoulder. The vampire turned to see where it had come from and instantly spotted a ruddy, blond-haired man in a second story window reloading his crossbow.

“Get down!” he yelled, instinctively pushing Faith out of the way. Losing her balance, arms flailing upwards, she latched onto the tiny pouch, which hung from a cord around his neck. The cord snapped under the pressure of her weight and she dropped to the ground.

Spike glanced up to see the crossbow aimed straight for him. He barely felt the arrow pierce his heart. A sense of peace overcame him as his body turned to ashes almost instantly.

Chapter 14 - Dazed and Confused

Emily stared at the empty space where William had stood a minute earlier. From across the street, she’d seen the arrow hit with deadly precision-straight through the heart. Her brother had been reduced to ashes almost instantly.

Turning, she glared up at a man standing in a second story window of the building behind her. Leslie King hurriedly reloaded his crossbow, unaware that his life would soon be ending-horribly.

Emily gestured towards the Council henchman, jerking her hand back in a pulling motion. King catapulted out of the window, flying at an accelerating pace, until he slammed against a building on the opposite side of the street. His crushed body dropped to the ground. A pool of blood spread out onto the sidewalk, framing his lifeless form.

Smirking, the Wiccan turned her attention to the girl staring at her from across the street. Emily suppressed the impulse to make her implode. For some reason, William had given his life to save hers. With much effort, she kept her fists at her sides, studying Faith through narrowed eyes. She saw nothing special about her.

Annoyed, she abruptly turned and got into her car. She needed to get home-to her library. There were several old spell books she had to refer to. After all, it had been many years since she’d performed her last resurrection spell.

* * *

Sighing with relief, Faith watched the black Mercedes as it quickly sped away and disappeared into the darkness. She’d been lucky, escaping death more than once that night. Five vamps-six if you counted Spike-had been dusted, but she’d not been responsible for killing any of them.

Her fingers tightened around the small, soft pouch she’d been holding. She looked at it, turning it around in her hand and wondered what it was. Spike had been wearing it around his neck. Shrugging, she stuffed it into her pocket. She’d check it out later.

She heard a soft moan coming from behind her. Collin Danvers-he was still alive. She rushed over and knelt by his side. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at her. “What happened?” he asked.

Faith stared at him uncertainly. She was almost sure that Danvers’ counterpart had been aiming his crossbow at her and not at Spike. Had tonight’s little exercise been more about taking out Faith than vampires? But she’d seen Danvers come to her aid. He’d risked his life to help her. What the hell was going on?

“It’s okay,” she told him, finally. “All the vamps got dusted.”

Danvers winced with pain as he turned his head to look around him. “Where’s Leslie?” he asked.

“Oh…him. He kinda got…” She paused. ‘What he deserved,’ she thought. “He was killed,” she replied.

“Oh.” Danvers frowned. He tried to prop himself up on one elbow, but was overcome by dizziness. “My head…’ He said, his shoulders slumping back to the ground.

“Yeah, well, we gotta get out here-like right now,” Faith said uneasily. She shuddered as she thought about the girl who’d been responsible for most of the night’s carnage. The Slayer had no idea who the powerful witch was or why she’d spared her, but Faith had no intention of sticking around and chancing another encounter.

Slinging Danvers’ arm over her shoulder, she helped the large man to his feet. She then half dragged him to a black Range Rover parked a little over a block away from the ambush site.

She needed to get answers. Had the Council turned on her? If so, why? She had to find Giles. He was her Watcher. He had to know something. But could she trust him?

Things were so messed up. She reflected on how Spike, an evil vamp, had died saving her. And then there was Leslie King, who was supposed to be a good guy, yet he’d tried to kill her. Who was good? Who was evil? She shook her head-she didn’t know anymore.

* * *

Overcome by another wave of queasiness, Buffy leaned over the toilet, opened her mouth and convulsed. Nothing came out. Her stomach had been empty for quite a while; it had been a very long morning.

‘Never again!’ she thought to herself, as she slumped forward on the porcelain seat. ‘Alcohol and Buffy-bad combination!’

Her head was throbbing and the room spun when she tried to stand. She lay down on the floor and looked up at the ceiling. The spinning subsided, but her head. ‘Never again!’

The Slayer closed her eyes and rested on the cool ceramic tile. It felt nice. The coolness reminded her of Spike. She opened her eyes. ‘Oh.’ What was it she’d realized the night before? She sat up and the room spun around at a dizzying speed. She slumped back down, thumping her head against the hard floor. More pain. She thumped her head again, on purpose this time. ‘Owwww!’ She did it again…and again…until… She winced-the truth hurt.

* * *

After resting on the bathroom floor for what seemed like hours, Buffy realized for the first time that Spike was strangely absent. She frowned. Why hadn’t he come back? The night before, he’d told her that he’d ‘be back in a bit.’ Well, it’d been more than ‘a bit’-a lot more. With much effort, she slowly stood up, fighting nausea and more dizziness. The room whizzed around her, relentlessly.

‘Again with the spinning!’ She was reminded of riding on a merry-go-round as a little girl. She wondered when the ride would end.

Buffy dragged herself into the other room and paused at the desk. Catching her breath, she looked down at the small tablet with her barely legible handwriting on it. Three words caught her attention. She gently traced over them with her fingers. ‘I love him.’

What was it she felt? Happiness? Horror? Maybe a bit of both. She loved Spike. Despite all of her efforts not to. She’d finally admitted it to herself for the first time. Maybe it was fate. She couldn’t think of two people LESS compatible-a slayer and a vampire. ‘Okay, yeah it’s been done before…but Angel had a soul. He was good.’

Could Spike be good? He did seem to be acting rather ‘goodish’ lately. She scowled. He also happened to be ‘gone-ish’. Where was he?

She stood up and went to the window. He was probably out gallivanting, taking advantage of another Emily induced, cloudy day. Perhaps he’d come and gone while she was out cold. That made sense. She glanced around the room for a note, but didn’t see any.

She pulled back the drapes. The sun was shining. Squinting, she held her hand in front of her eyes to shield them from the bright light. The warm rays gave her a chill. He wasn’t out gallivanting. He hadn’t come back. But, he’d said he would…

Dazed, she let go of the drapes and the room went dim again. The darkness comforted her, but something wasn’t right. She could feel it.

‘Oh God!’ She felt a sense of panic slowly overcome her. Buffy stumbled over to the bed and sat down. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. ‘What should I do?’ she asked herself.

After some time, the Slayer stood up and retrieved her address book from her carry-on. She’d do what she always did whenever she was confused or unsure. She’d call Giles.

Chapter 15 - The Dead Truth

Faith stood by the doorway of the warehouse apartment, looking around for anything she might’ve forgotten. She didn’t have much. Everything she owned was now stuffed in the canvas duffel slung over her shoulder.

‘Why does it always end up like this?’

She’d hoped it would be different this time. As usual, she’d been wrong.

The Slayer glanced at Danvers, who was lying unconscious on the cot. She wondered what she was going to do with him. He was hurt-probably just a concussion, but he needed to be taken to a doctor. He had seemed disoriented in the car, mumbling to himself about King and Travers…and some ‘alternate’ plan.

‘What do I care, anyway? He’s one of them, right?’

She considered leaving him there.

‘But he might know something,’ she thought, biting her lip.

Faith went out to the car and put her duffel in the back. She returned to the apartment and walked over to Danvers. Hesitating, she bent down and lifted him up.

He opened his eyes, confused.

“Wh…where are you taking me?” he asked groggily.

Grunting softly, Faith hoisted him up over one shoulder. It appeared impossible for a girl of her size to carry such a large man. Fortunately, she had superhuman strength.

“We’re going to see Giles,” she replied, her teeth gritted. “To get some answers.”

* * *

Giles awoke with a start. He’d been in the middle of a very pleasant dream involving Jenny Calendar. Although his old girlfriend had been dead for several years, she still visited him, occasionally, in h is sleep. He always looked forward to those visits.

As he sat up, his hand automatically went to his nightstand for his glasses. He put them on and looked around the room.

Hearing a crash, he quickly stood up and crept to the living room. He stopped when he heard another sound-creaking springs, as if someone had just sat down on his sofa.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

He squinted in the darkness, seeing the outline of a girl standing by the couch. The shadow girl approached him.

“Just me Giles,” the dark form said, getting closer. “You know…your Slayer.”

The Watcher frowned.

“Buffy?” he asked, uncertain.

The shadow stopped and cursed under its breath.

“No, you moron!” it said irritably.

Giles reached for the light switch and flicked it on. The room was suddenly illuminated and he found himself standing face-to-face with the girl he had indeed been assigned to ‘watch’.

“Faith,” he muttered, surprised.

The Slayer smirked at him. “Yeah, just thought I’d pay my Watcher a little visit.”

Giles glanced at the wall clock and scratched his head. “It’s the middle of the night. What’s going on?”

Faith eyed him suspiciously. “I was hoping you could tell me,” she replied.

“What do you mean?” Giles asked, his brow furrowed.

“I mean…why are the supposedly ‘good guys’ trying to kill me?”

“Kill you? Who’s trying kill you?”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “Like you don’t know.”

“I…I don’t,” Giles said.

Faith studied him carefully. He seemed to be telling the truth.

“Honestly, Faith-“

“That Council guy…you know Leslie something or other…one of the thugs they assigned to me.” She paused. “I swear he tried to kill me…earlier tonight with a crossbow--only he missed.”

She recalled how Spike had been killed, shuddering at the image of his ashes showering her. The arrow had been meant for her. She knew it.

“I…don’t…” Giles scratched his head. “Surely, you must be mistaken. I can’t believe that Council would have you killed after only just reinstating you. There must be some-“

“She’s right-it’s true.” Both Watcher and Slayer turned to Collin Danvers, who was now sitting up on the sofa. “Travers….” He continued. “He came up with an alternate plan, should Faith prove to be a ‘problem’. Leslie…he must’ve gone to Travers and told him…that he thought Faith was unstable. They must’ve decided to put the alternate plan into action.”

“Alternate plan?” Giles asked, sounding puzzled.

“Yeah,” Danvers replied grimly. “If she became a ‘problem’, Travers wanted Faith dead.”

* * *

The phone rang five times before the answering machine picked up.

“Yes, um, Giles here,” the awkward sounding voice said. “Well, actually I’m not…here. Ergo, the recording. Please, if you will, leave a message after the tone.”

Buffy hesitated, then spoke.

“Giles, it’s Buffy. I’m in London, and I really, really need to ta-“

“Buffy?” It was Giles.

Buffy sighed with relief. “Thank God you’re there. I really-“

“Buffy, where are you, exactly?” He sounded urgent.

“Like I said to the machine, I’m here…in London. It’s a long story. I know that you’re not going to approve, but-“

“Where in London?”

Buffy frowned. “At a hotel. But actually, I’m worried about Spike. He was supposed to come back last night…only he didn’t…”

“You were with Spike?”

“Well…sorta... But like I said-“

“Buffy, stay put. We’re coming to you. There’s an er, situation going on right now.”

“Huh? What situation? What’s going on?” Buffy asked.

“Just give me your hotel address and room number and I’ll fill you in when we get there,” Giles replied.

“We?” Buffy said. “Who’s we?”

Giles glanced at Faith. “I…I’m here with a collegue,” he said. “I’ll explain everything soon.”

Buffy gave him the requested information and hung up. Frowning, she sat on the bed and waited for Giles and company to arrive.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Buffy heard a knock on her door. She rushed to open it. The familiar face of her former Watcher was a welcome sight.

“Giles,” she said, giving the man a bear hug. “It’s so good to-“

She opened her eyes and was surprised to see another familiar, but not-so-welcome face, standing a few feet behind the Watcher.

“Faith.”

Buffy released Giles abruptly and stared at the girl who had caused her much pain in the past.

“What’s she doing here?” she asked.

Buffy’s gaze then went past the dark-haired Slayer, to the tall, broad-shouldered man standing behind her. She frowned. “Who’s he?”

Giles cleared his throat. “Yes, there’s much to talk about--preferably, in private.” He gestured for Buffy to let them into the hotel room.

Buffy stepped back and let them enter the room. Faith immediately made herself comfortable on the bed. Giles remained standing and the other man slumped down onto the chair by the window.

“So,” the blonde Slayer said, glancing around at her newly arrived guests. “What’s going on?” She looked specifically at Giles.

Giles paused before speaking. “This is complicated,” he began. “The Council has reinstated Faith as a Slayer. They’ve assigned me to be her Watcher.”

“But, she’s…” Buffy’s top lip curled upward disdainfully. “How could they possibly trust her-after all that she’s done?”

“Apparently, they don’t,” Giles muttered grimly.

“B,” Faith said, leaning forward on the bed, “I know that you and I’ve had our fair share of differences…”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the other Slayer.

“But you’ve got to believe me,” Faith continued. “Sitting in jail these past few years has helped me realize that I was wrong. I came here to make things right. I thought they were giving me a second chance…” She looked at Giles, uncertainly.

“And I should believe you because…? Why now?” Buffy said, unconvinced.

“Buffy,” Giles said. “I believe Faith is sincere. The problem is…the Council…they double crossed her. They didn’t give her a chance as promised. Last night, one of the Council men tried to kill her.”

“Yeah,” Faith added. “If it hadn’t been for Spike-“

Buffy’s head jerked towards Faith. “Spike?” she said, softly. “Where is he?”

Faith looked at Giles uncertainly. “He’s…” she began.

The Watcher approached Buffy and put his hand on her shoulder. “He’s dead, Buffy,” he said quietly.

Buffy stared at Giles in disbelief. She felt tears starting to form. She brought her hand up to her mouth and held it there. “No,” she whispered. “It can’t be true.”

“He saved my life,” Faith said. “If he hadn’t come when he did--”

“Oh my God.” Buffy said.

Suddenly, she felt alone-like she was the only one in the room, or the entire world for that matter. Nobody could understand how she felt. She’d kept her feelings buried inside her all this time, denying the truth. She’d told no one. And now it was too late.

Buffy’s legs gave way beneath her and she began to fall. Catching her, Giles propped her up gently.

“Buffy,” he said, looking concerned. “Are you alright?”

Everything was a blur. She closed her eyes. She wished that she’d told Spike the truth. If only she’d figured it out sooner. She loved him…

She felt a horrible pain in her chest. And now he’d never know. It didn’t matter anymore.

He was dead.