Author: Strange Bint

Rating: R (Not for under 17)

Type: Character Development, Series, Romance, Action, First-time

Pairing: Spike/Faith, Willow/Kennedy

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Summary: After Faith did all she could to try to stop Spike from sacrificing his life for her she thinks about what she wants in life. Angel and Connor fight about what Connor wants for his life. Kennedy is frustrated she isn’t getting what she wants from Willow.

Story Notes: This is basically the end of the huge arc. So, I’d like feed back more than ever. Please read and review, and tell me if you want more, even though there is a good chance that you will get it even if you don’t ? So, this is like the end of Season One. I guess I do my Seasons like HBO, they take really long and no one knows how the next one will be scheduled. Much love to Dutch on this, who wanted it shorter and hotter, so that’s what I did, and thanks to Jill who has been there the whole time. And Mad Love to everyone who has been reading the series and supporting it! XOXO!

Story info: Language warning as usual. Connor is rivaling Spike and Faith with the swearing because it makes Angel upset. This is also my sexiest chapter to date. So hide your virgin eyes. There’s also some episode related stuff from Angel season five “Lineage.” Anyone who complains about season 5 should just watch “Lineage” and then try to complain.

Forget Me Not 17-You Can't Get What You Want (Till You Know What You Want)

"Sometimes you can't see that all you need is one thing if it's right, you could sleep at night. But it can take some time but at least I'm here in line. 'Cause I'll tell you one thing. You can't get what you want till you know what you want.” Body & Soul

Things were weird, but they weren’t too bad. It had been a strange day. If fighting evil cyborgs wasn’t strange, fighting them by Angel’s side was, and if that wasn’t strange, feeling cool about it was, and if that wasn’t all the other stuff that went down at Wolfram & Hart today was. Connor hoped that they didn’t talk about anything serious tonight. Somehow, with even Angel in the room, Faith could make that possible. However, Connor noticed how sad she seemed when he left her at the beach house. He was glad he was going back now, even if it was with Angel. Faith felt like the whole Spike thing was her fault. It really wasn’t, but Connor knew what it was like when you were a part of fate and something happened because of you. You felt like it was your fault anyway.

He had never wanted to go to Sunnydale more. It would be weird without Spike, but the important thing was that Faith was there. It was hard to picture Spike without Faith, really. Spike always seemed to be putting on a show for Faith in some way, and it was really fun for other people to watch. Faith kind of did the same thing for Spike, but it was much easier to picture her how Connor first met her—alone and very strong. Now she wasn’t a Slayer anymore, and she’d need help with the certain kind of strength he had. It would sort of be nice to be alone with Faith. She’d said that she’d broken up with that principal guy too.

“This is an awesome car,” Connor said to Angel as he felt the Viper hug the road.

Now that all that cyborg stuff was over, Connor found he really didn’t know what to say to Angel. If they weren’t fighting together, or fighting each other, conversation with him was tough. When Angel let Connor intern at Wolfram and Hart he never saw him, not that Connor cared, it made it way easier to find out about everything, but now Connor wished he had been around more so he could remember what they talked about when they weren’t fighting. How did he even end up in this car with Angel? Oh yeah, they both wanted to see Faith. It was weird that Faith and Angel were such good friends, they were so different. At least Angel really seemed to care if Faith was okay. Connor couldn’t believe that Angel had said that Faith had a “right” to trade her life for Spike’s that night. It was what Faith had wanted. Still, Connor didn’t know how he felt about Angel not really trying to talk Faith out of it. What did it matter? Everything had worked out great. Right?

“You could have a car like this if you---“Angel began.

“Yeah, I know!” Connor snapped now, “If I took your bribe to stop fighting.”

He remembered why it mattered now. Angel always had to put his nose into everything. He affected everything even when he did nothing.

“It’s not a bribe.” Angel insisted, “It’s—it’s a gesture.”

“A gesture? A gesture that says what? ‘Get out of my face.’ You really are full of it. I have a gesture for you,” Connor muttered and folded his arms, not really bothering with any gestures.

“You really have been hanging out with Faith,” Angel actually seemed to grin. “If you are going to fight, she is the best one to have on your side, I guess. Even if she has no Slayer power anymore.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that. I can be the one to help Faith now,” Connor said, “If I hadn’t been there to help you with those cyborgs you’d have been up shit’s creek.”

“God, would you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Angel demanded.

“Which one?” Connor shot back and he saw Angel’s lips tighten.

Silence. Didn’t his philosophy professor say it spoke volumes? She was right. The volumes of silence were better than the talking so far.

“You were really good,” Angel said.

“What?” he asked.

“With those cyborgs, you were really good at deactivating them, and you were almost as good as me with fighting them,” Angel said.

“Oh,” Connor said, “thanks.”

“How on earth did you get new fighting moves? You have this new kind of jujitsu-street fighting thing that looks familiar. Oh! Is it from video games?”

“No,” Connor rolled his eyes, “I picked it up from Spike and Faith.”

“Oh,” Angel's big forehead wrinkled, “When did Spike and Faith get new fighting moves?”

“They’ve been training together for almost two years, but I guess that’s over now. Maybe you should find someone to train with. You look a little stale,” Connor sighed.

“I don’t have time to worry about how fancy my fighting style looks, Connor. I’m using an evil company’s resources to save the world and do good. You have no idea what that means,” Angel grumbled.

“Today it meant cyborgs. One of which tried to steal your free-will and was disguised as Wes’s dad,” Connor laughed.

“Yes, and that was just one day, and it’s not funny,” Angel said. It was kind of funny; if Spike had been there it would have been hilarious.

 “So, what was up with that?” Connor asked.

“What?” Angel asked.

“The cyborgs. That was pretty intense,” Connor said.

“Well, we’ve taken precautions so we won’t be vulnerable to them anymore, but we’re still trying to figure out who sent them,” Angel said.

“I don’t mean that. I meant Wes, gunning down his Dad like that,” Connor said.

“He was going to hurt Fred, and it wasn’t his father, not really,” Angel said firmly.

“He didn’t know that at the time, and the dude barely had time to touch Fred before Wes shot him up. I guess if you mess with his people Wes doesn’t fool around. I mean he emptied the gun on that sucker!”

“I know Connor, I was there!” Angel snapped “I’m not going to talk about- about the cyborgs anymore.”

“Fine. What is your problem? I thought you’d be happy to hear me say I admire your number one even though---

“Even though you followed Spike’s plan to torture him because you didn’t want him near Faith,” Angel’s brow was probably wrinkling more from anger than squinting at the sun. Damn the special glass! If Angel didn’t have it Connor would be going to see Faith alone.

”It wasn’t Spike’s plan. Wes was using black magic on Faith, Angel. I was the one that remembered how he thought she was going to die when he did it before, and then he wanted to do it again. You may be the only one whose memory wasn’t messed with over the last two years, but Spike and I seem to be the ones that remember how magic works, or doesn’t. It was my plan. Well, our plan,” Connor said.

“Yeah you and Spike, there’s a team,” his dad’s voice dripped with the sarcasm that Connor hadn’t thought he had in him, when he had a soul.

“Not anymore, thanks to you,” Connor scoffed angrily.

“Thanks to me? It was his choice, just like it’s yours to go to Sunnydale and fight, which if you decide you don’t want….”

“Offer me money to leave Faith again, and you’ll be sorry just like you were that day with Wes,” Connor threatened with a smirk as he made sure Angel saw him put his hand on the Crank window handle. This was an old model car. Angel seemed to like those better. 

The car came to a screeching halt, so much so that Connor’s head would have hit the windshield if Angel’s arm hadn’t been out to stop him. His parents would put their arm out like that too, but they never hit the breaks on purpose because Connor had made an idle threat.

“I wasn’t going to do it,” Connor rolled his eyes, “You really are a drama qu—“

Connor stopped because Angel had lunged forward and grabbed Connor’s arm and twisted it behind him. He had his other arm pinned down.

“Okay, we’re going to have a little talk now that there are no roofs to jump off of and no black sheep big brothers to run to,”  Angel said with a quiet voice,  the rage that Connor remembered so well bubbling under it.

“Fuck you,” Connor grunted in pain.

 “You do have your mother’s mouth, but it’s the least of my concerns,” Angel continued.

His mother, Darla. The files said it was often a “lover’s contest” between Angel and Darla as to which one could be more cruel and unusual.

“And maybe I have her head too. If you don’t let me go I’ll smash it through the window and burn your ass for real,” Connor spat.

“Try it and I’ll rip your arm off before your head can hit the glass, for real. You are not invincible, and I won’t let you get away with hurting good people,” Angel said as he tightened his grip around Connor’s wrist.

“Good people,” Connor laughed to himself, as he thought he must look like a date rape victim. He had his back forced against the door of a sports car with his arms pinned with the lumbering aged frat boy on him

“The mission isn’t about saving the pretty girl that was nice to you and screwing over everyone else as you go,” Angel said as he let Connor up.

“You’re just---“Connor began.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not the cool one, remember? Daddy is not done talking,” he said as he covered Connor’s mouth, “Unlike some other people, there is a time when debating with me is over and the time for listening to me begins. This time usually occurs when I think you are going to get yourself or any of my people killed.”

Get his people killed, so Angel did really blame him for all of what happened—Cordelia. She was always Angel’s and not his, and all Connor had done was fuck her up. He had loved her, he really had, but his love only did damage. Connor had his own people, people he never hurt, but they were only there because Angel had given them to him. Connor couldn’t get anyone to really love him on his own, it took magic.

“If you are going to fight the mission, you’re going to do it right. You’re not going to do it like you did it before, following wherever it is your hormones are pointing you, like it’s some big party.  You do it with your head and only if you have a clear one. You don’t do it because you have some vendetta or you want to win some contest against me or you want to screw a Slayer! The bodies will start littering the streets, and if that starts to happen again I won’t hide in the tunnels with you, I will take you down,” Angel said.

  A couple of cars went around where Angel had come to a dead stop. A few people honked and shouted the standard things. Angel turned and started the car.

“So that’s it! That’s what you think of me? That I’m still some psycho that is going to hurt everyone? Did it ever occur to you that I’m trying to do what you’re doing? That I want to make things right? That I want to make up for what I did?”

Connor felt his voice rise with emotion like when he was in the middle of his graduation speech and he realized it was all really over. There was no going back, but he didn’t stop it from rising this time. There were no girls there to impress with controlled sensitivity. He let his voice rise and it didn’t sound sad and sensitive, it was just pissed off.

 “You never hid in the tunnels with me; you were running in the tunnels from me. Me and Jasmine, that thing I created. You have no idea what that’s like to have to live with. The fact that your only purpose in this world was to create something so horrible…Or maybe you think you do,” Connor yelled at the glove box.

“Connor,” Angel said quietly, “That’s not what I think of you at all.”

He was pulling over to the side of the road now. Drama Queen.

“Well, you really have poor communication skills then.”

“I don’t blame you for anything that happened, and you shouldn’t blame yourself either.”

“Right, then why did you make me forget and give me away--- again?” Connor asked and turned to actually face Angel. Angel only looked straight ahead. He seemed to be studying the sunset or grimacing at it.

“Again? “ Angel turned to Connor quickly in surprise, “I didn’t give you to Holtz, he took you.”

“No, Wes gave me to him, and you couldn’t have been too upset about it. Wes is still with you. He almost kills Faith, he gets Fred shot in the arm today, he kills his Dad…kind of, but you never sent him away.”

“Yes I—Is that why---Oh God, Connor! I did send Wes away. I never thought I’d be able to forgive him, but I did, and—and I’m glad I did. He’s a good man, Connor, A warrior. You’ll see.”

“But I’m not any of those things, and you can’t forgive me because I was no good from the start.”

It was Connor who was looking straight ahead as Angel’s eyes bored into the side of his face. Connor looked at the big orange jelly sun setting now, as if he never saw it before. He could hear the ocean easily even though they couldn’t see it from where they were parked. Faith had jumped into the ocean for Spike. She had poisoned herself for Angel. Connor didn’t know if he could do any of those things for anyone other than Faith now. Maybe that was a start.

“Connor, there was nothing to forgive. You’re right in that you are nothing like Wes. You never really betrayed me because you never really knew me. He did.”

“So, how come you don’t have a bug up your ass about him fighting the mission?” Connor asked as he rubbed his arm and scowled at the pain.

“Well, I could never tell him to stop fighting the mission, but I did try to kill him after he gave you to Holtz,” Angel said

“Really?” Connor asked turning to Angel now.

“Yeah, and who knows if I’d ever have forgiven him if we didn’t have to join up to fight the Beast,” Angel said.

“The Beast… Cordelia, it wasn’t enough that getting her pregnant almost killed her, I was going to…and those people. I have to make it up Angel; do something good with my life of shit,” Connor said as he looked into Angel’s eyes.

“But, that’s why I took this whole Wolfram and Hart deal. So you would have a good life. Don’t you like your family? You’re life? I thought it was what you wanted!” Angel dropped his head in a way that reminded Connor of someone else—himself.

“I love my family, and my life. It wasn’t what I wanted. It was more, and I don’t deserve any of it---“

“Connor---“

“I have to make up for what I did Angel, not your way, my way.”

“You have nothing to make up! You were just a kid. You are still just a kid and I---“

“I’m not a kid, Angel! I’m twenty.” 

“Twenty is a kid. What do people know at twenty? I sure didn’t know anything but drinking and whor---a whole lot of…unimportant bad stuff,” Angel stammered.

“You’ve dated people younger than me,” Connor sighed, and folded his arms.

“Buffy’s different she—I gave her up too, actually because I wanted her safe. I want to keep you safe,” Angel said.

“If I can’t do that for myself, there isn’t much hope of it happening,” Connor insisted. “And just so you know, us kids in suburbia know what whores are. I know all about how you and mom met. You thought she was one. Couldn’t you get laid the normal way?”

“Of course I-I…God Damned files and records! What do they just let anybody down there? Is it like the cafeteria? Do the mailroom guys read about my life during lunch?” Angel grumbled as he started the car.

“No. I figured out how to bust my way in, and it was actually pretty hard. Way harder than that time I set all the sprinklers off  at all the frats on campus or when I busted into the radio station and had it play that ‘Tenacious D’ song on a loop,” he said.

“Really?” Angel asked, “So you’re really good at stuff like that?”

“Pretty good. I’d say it was all those fake smarts you gave me, but I seemed to be good at it before in a way. I broke through Quar’ toth, and I figured out how to work those bombs right away, remember?” he said.

“Yeah, I do,” Angel seemed to actually smile, but then his normal frown was back, “Connor, you have to promise me you won’t get reckless. Maybe it’ll be better now with Spike gone.”

“So torturing one guy to save the life of a girl you love is more reckless than taking a deal with the world’ s most evil corporation by working for them?” Connor smirked and looked at Angel as he drove. Angel sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I am not working for them, I am—“

“I’m just sayin’ we all have our own fighting styles. It’s my life, Dad,”  Connor said as he sighed a sigh that seemed to release a tightness in him.

“You are good,” Angel smiled, “Hey, you handled angry mobs in LA, a suburban Hellmouth should be nothing.”

  They pulled up on the Wolfram & Hart Santa Monica “Beach House.” The house was one of  those honking huge modern looking things. It was so different from the Hyperion. All of the styling around Wolfram and Hart was. Connor thought much of it seemed nothing like the style Angel would prefer. Then other times Connor thought it was exactly what his father always wanted.  

 “Just tell me you love me and I won’t care about the rest,” Kennedy said as she leaned back, alone on Willow’s bed.

No, that sounded too dramatic. Kennedy wasn’t really dramatic. So, why did she feel so much drama stirring inside of her, like a bad movie you watch at 3am just because it’s the story of two girls in love? Willow didn’t watch those movies with her; for a witch who hunted vamps she didn’t like to stay up very late. Kennedy knew her and Willow might not like to do the same things, but if you looked at the greatest love stories, what couples did? It wasn’t as if Romeo or Rhett Butler liked to sit and ponder like their loves, they wanted to get out and do things. It was the balance of the two lovers that mattered.

So what if Willow didn’t like skate punk, or mystery books, or bad lesbian movies. Kennedy had Faith to watch all those movies with her, and sometimes Harris and/or Spike would stop by. Harris just wanted to see the girl on girl action. Spike seemed to get into the actual plot: why couldn’t these gits just leave the two birds alone and let them be together? Good fucking question.

But it didn’t seem like actual people that were in Kennedy’s way of her love, they were ghosts. Not real ones- thank god for small favors, but people long gone, even though Willow’s obligations towards them were not.

“I want to know what the fuck is going on!” Kennedy said. No, that was too Marlon Brando. Red did love Kennedy for her assertiveness, but that was no way to talk to a Goddess.

“I’m back,” Willow called cheerily as she bounced into the bedroom.

“Another mysterious phone call. What do you have to say after this one? That you’ve decided to live in this house until Dawn has grandchildren? And you’re gonna make it into a museum so we can all remember our rockin’ good times here?” Kennedy sighed wearily.

“No, I was just going to complain about how my boss always calls me at home,” Willow said with her serious pout, “Well, we have had rockin’ good times here, right? Most of them in this very room.”

“Yeah, well, so have you and a lot of other people,” Kennedy said softly.

“What does that mean?”

Great, now she was hurt. Kennedy couldn’t stand it when she was hurt, let alone if she was the one who did it.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Kennedy said, “It just means I want a place of our own. I don’t want to keep coming here to this shrine that you have for Buffy…or anyone else.”

Kennedy wouldn’t say her name. She could. They had talked about Tara before. Kennedy just refused to now.

‘Well, the place wouldn’t really be our own would it? Faith would be there. It’s not like we could run around naked and do it in the tub until we were all pruney.”

Red gave her puppy dog smile. She got on the bed and made her way over to Kennedy to tuck some hair behind her ear.

“I’m sure Faith wouldn’t mind,” Kennedy smiled.

“Well, I would,” Willow sighed.

“Well, I can’t ask her to move out. Where would she go? Wood finally realized he couldn’t make her give up the mission and be Suzy-homemaker, and he split. And all this running from Spike shit has really got her down. She called me from yuppie vamp’s beach house, going on about how it was almost over, but how everything was going to change, and nothing lasts forever, and that she was sorry she messed everything up. As if I’m the one who cares that Wood split and that Spike went psycho,” Kennedy sighed. “I honestly think Spike going psycho bothers her more than the fact that the guy could have killed her. She’s weird like that. I told her that Spike has gone psycho before and he got better. He has, right?”

“Huh?” Red asked; she had been looking out of the window. Kennedy knew what was bothering her, even if she didn’t know what it was exactly.

“I said circus freaks would be a fine act to have at our wedding, since we’re going to be the only married lesbians who live in separate houses,” Kennedy grumbled.

“Married? I can’t---Oh, sarcasm, right? Sorry, I’m just kind of distracted. You know, Dawn, very depressed about Buffy leaving lately,” Willow sighed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kennedy sighed, “Look, it will always be something with her. She’s the type that never gets over stuff. She’s not really a kid anymore, Red. She really doesn’t need you living here twenty-four seven. Maybe if she was on her own a bit---“

“Dawn will never be over Buffy having to leave! Even now with--- I’ll never be over….There are some things in life you can’t get over. No, you shouldn’t get over them,” Willow snapped as she bolted up from the bed as if Kennedy had spilled hot water on it.

“All I know is you seemed pretty over stuff tonight. We were having the best night of my life. You said you would move in with me---“

“I said I would think about it after I talked to Dawn,” Willow said firmly.

“You said that with Dawn graduating, you were sure she’d be ready to sell this ghost-house, and then after you got that phone call everything changed,” Kennedy grumbled.  “I’ll bet it was Wood. He called and said he was worried about Dawn and that she seemed depressed in school. What kid isn’t? If you’re not depressed in high school there is something wrong with you. God, I hate that Wood is Dawn’s principal! You can be so naïve, honey. He probably is just playing up Dawn’s bum-fest so he has an excuse to call and pump you for info about Faith.”

“Not everything is about you and me or Faith,” Red said in her really angry voice now. It sounded snippy but, it had a brutalness underneath that could bring the whole world to its knees.

Kennedy moved to sit on the edge of the bed, so she could wrap her arms around Red’s waist. Her body was as stiff and unyielding as her voice had been.

“I’m sorry, honey. I know you’re the Goddess,” Kennedy said as she leaned against Red’s flat little tummy. “It’s just that, I was finally going to get what I wanted, and you know how I love that. I was going to get my girl to myself, and now you won’t even tell me what this phone call was about. Why are you shutting me out? When will it be about us—just us? ”

“Oh, baby,” Willow softened now, like Kennedy knew she would. Other people should be afraid if her girl was angry but Kennedy knew how to get back.

“One day,” Red said as she stroked Kennedy’s hair, “One day it will be about us, I promise. Just not right now, and I’m not shutting you out. I would tell you everything if I could. It’s just some things are not about me at all and I can’t go blabbing about them, you know? Don’t worry. You’ll get it all soon.”

“How soon?” Kennedy asked as she looked up at Red and smiled.

She pulled her girl down on top of her own body. She kissed her lips and moved her hands down Willow’s firm svelte body. Red took such an unassuming form for someone who had such power, as every truly good Goddess did.

“How many more offerings do I have to give until I get what I want?” Kennedy smiled as Red raised her arms for her flowery tank-top to be taken off.

  “You mean once you get what you want the offerings stop?” Red giggled as Kennedy kissed her neck.

“Then never, never,” Red moaned.

Kennedy watched Red’s eyes flutter shut as she dipped her hand between her legs.

“Oh, c’mon,” Kennedy said cockily, “You know I always end up getting what I want. There is no use resisting me.”

Faith was wet and cold. The first thing she did when she got here was go into the pool. She thought that maybe after all this she should try to teach herself to swim. No luck. She jumped in the water and flailed around until she grabbed the pool ladder. It would be kind of funny if she drowned herself after all the drama. She told Angel she wanted to come back here, and spend the night—alone. He never even asked her why. He just had Connor drive her here, and of course the kid asked a million times if she wanted him to stay. She finally said that Angel and Connor could come over later if they liked.

God! She really had fucking balls, huh? She had invited herself to Angel’s Beach house again, and basically told him and his kid she really didn’t want them there. This was after Angel had fished her out of the God damned ocean with a freaking helicopter, and brought her back to the W&H medical experts to save her life yet again. What Angel really should do is push her through a window again. There was enough glass here. How fitting. Maybe that was why she liked it here so much. People couldn’t throw stones at people in glass houses. Wait, it was the other way around. Faith knew she probably liked it here because nothing about it reminded her of herself. Everything was so nice and clear and clean. The walls that weren’t glass were white with small fancy shit on them. This place wasn’t cluttered with crap. There was no need to mess the walls up with posters of bands or stupid shit or foot-prints or fist-prints to be reminded of who lived here. She didn’t live here, and that was why she liked it.

Faith was so surprised at how huge the main bathroom was that it almost made her stop shaking. She didn’t know they made bathrooms this big. Why did they make bathrooms this big? Tub orgies? They should just put the toilet in the next room then. That was the thing she hated most about prison. The toilet right there just in case you wanted to hurl at the nastiness of the toilet being right there. But even though this toilet was in the same room it did seem kinda far away, and it had its own little area. Maybe she could live here, in this bathroom. She would just have to put a microwave in it for popcorn and hot pockets. Angel wouldn’t like that, but she probably could get away with it for a while.

She didn’t get why she was so freaked out. So, she had just almost drowned herself. Big deal. It would just have been another stupid thing she did. Angel would have found her and brought her back to the skinny perky girl and they probably would have revived her. Faith’s eyes burned as she looked in the mirror. It was the chlorine. Fred—that was the girl ’s name. Faith knew she ’d been a bitch to her, but she hadn’t meant it. Fred was a nice girl, a good girl who was smart and saved lives. She had explained everything so nicely and patiently to Faith. She even apologized by saying that her explanations were only “theories” and that she didn’t really know what had happened or why Faith was really alive. "That’s because I’m not fucking supposed to be!"

Yeah, Faith had been a real charmer. She’d cursed and pulled out the tubes and wires they put in her. She’d demanded to see Angel and Connor. Fred, of course, met her demands, and explained to all of them how Faith had just been in shock from the cold of the water. She was in no way affected by the coldness of the water they way a normal person would be, because then she would be dead. It was as if Faith had been “insulated.”

That’s when Faith decided to be a bitch to Angel. She knew she had been “insulated” by Spike’s soul—Spike’s life. Why didn’t you fucking stop him? You said it was my life. My choice. Why didn’t you do something? Angel said he couldn’t, it had happened too fast. He said he got on the phone to get the helicopter the minute he realized that Faith was really going to jump, and he had no time to do anything else.

“Great, Magnum PI! How was a helicopter going to stop Spike from getting his hands on me! That was all you should have cared about, not saving me. I’m going to die from the demon in me anyway. If Wes thought like you- you’d be dead or Angelus right now!”

Then Fred told her that Faith wasn’t dying that the demon in her was gone. She even went onto say something about brainwaves and that the demon physically manifested itself as a brain tumor and that if any normal doctor looked at her head it would look like she had a brain tumor that had been successfully treated with chemo. Angel had told her everything was all right. Faith insisted everything was not all right, and that she knew that chemo was just a way of burning cancer out of you, and if that was all this demon was, why hadn’t all the eggheads thought of doing chemo on her? Fred went into this whole long thing about mystical forces and how they “manifested” as “pseudo-physical symptoms”, but how they were really nothing like them and blah, blah, blah.

“Whatever! All I know is that Spike is dead, and this is why I didn’t come out and tell anyone because I knew all you idiots would do nothing to stop it, because you don’t want to realize Spike is a champion. You all gave him a chance when it was convenient for you not when it really fucking mattered! You used him.”

Faith really had to love that. Who the hell was she talking to anyway? No one there really used Spike. Angel had asked him to help him out with Connor’s memory, but he had paid him, and Spike didn’t even do the job the way Angel wanted. He did it his own way because Spike was a total pain in the ass. Angel should have hit Faith they way she’s seen him hit Spike or Connor for mouthing off. She supposed that would have seemed wrong because she really was truly just a girl now with not even a bit of demon or Slayer left to save her own ass or anyone else’s, but it would have been right if Angel had wanted to hit her.

He hadn’t though. Faith could always tell by Angel’s face. Angel’s face was as easy to read as “Go Dog Go!” He always seemed to have one strong feeling that he shouted through his GQ face during drama as much as he didn’t want to. Not like Spike, who seemed to have a million things written on his face at a time because he felt those million different things. He had a “War and Peace” face or one of those books that Faith never read.

She always knew how to read all of Spike’s face, not just main words—the hard ones too. His face was like hard books, she secretly dug reading them , even if they gave her a headache; she thought she understood the book, but maybe there were subtle things she didn’t get because she was too stupid.

Well, Faith really knew she was stupid this time, and there were a million things she didn’t get as Fred tried to explain them to her patiently. After she had, Angel asked what she would like to do now. She wanted to hide somewhere, and it being that she probably didn’t have a good long term memory, she told Angel she wanted to come back here. Connor talked softly to her in the car, which Faith noticed had dog hair all over it from his family’s dog. He said he wanted to go back to Sunnydale with her. He said Angel offered to send him anywhere in the world if only he would agree to stop fighting, but Connor wanted to go back to the ‘Dale to fight with Faith. Then he could be near his family “and still a world apart,” which is what he said he needed. Faith agreed with him, but said she and his family might understand if he took of with a real fighter to go wherever he wanted. That was a cool deal Angel was giving to the real fighters these days, and it was a good one. A good idea. Connor said she “was a real fighter.”

Faith felt like nothing but a real bitch. She turned on the hot water of the big orgy tub; she was going to keep being a bitch too. She just wanted to sink down into this tub that wasn’t hers, like she was drowning only in good warm stuff. She even found something that smelled like flowers to put in the tub. She doubted Angel was girlie enough to have that kind of bath stuff. He had told Faith this was a Wolfram & Hart owned place before too, so it must have been left behind by some corporate guy’s ho. Faith knew she wasn’t girlie enough to have her own bath stuff, but she had her reasons for doing it. She was still coughing and freezing from her latest great idea for one, and she wanted to stop thinking about when her next idea would come. She wanted to be Zen

Perfect. Now all she needed was a little pink diary to write in about how much her life sucked, and she could pretend that she was some spoiled little rich girl who lived here and who was actually surprised that her life sucked enough to pout about it. She was alone like she wanted, so who would care?

Then she heard knocking on the bathroom door, and she smiled, feeling the sticky pool water on her face crack. Connor came back already. That was fine. She could skip this angst-fest. They could talk about movies more, and order pizza. Maybe he had some pot. Angel already said he wouldn’t be able to come until tonight. Something was happening with some evil cyborgs or something. Faith looked in the mirror and made sure her long hair was all slicked back. Her highlights didn’t show up when her hair was this wet, it went back to its natural color—dirt brown. She still had her black bikini on. She should change out of it. She really didn’t feel like explaining she couldn’t swim.

“You should have gone with Angel,” she said as she opened the door to the bathroom, “When will you have a chance to kick cyborg ass again?”

“Oh, I’m sure the opportunity will present itself again. It’s the high tech age now and I seem to live through the ages,” he said, but he said it softer than usual, like he didn’t want to rub her face in it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked reflexively. Really what was he doing here?

When Faith had finally stopped cursing and insulting all the people that saved her ass, they told her how Spike had lived. Fred said it seemed he would be fine. Faith was such a bitch that she even continued to snap at Fred a little. "What do you mean seems?" Fred explained with all these big words that Spike was a little tired, being that Faith had nearly sucked out and destroyed his soul and all, but it seemed he would be fine after all. Faith was such an idiot; she really should have figured out for herself that Spike was going to be more than a little spent because of her. Fred said that she was “almost 100 percent sure Spike would be fine.” She said that she had seen Angel look much worse after “his ocean visit” and he had recovered. Angel promised he would take care of Spike. He said when Spike got better he was going to offer Spike “full financial backing as an independent contractor” to go anywhere he wanted in order to fight the mission.

Fred even talked to Faith alone and said that she was using some “old resources” of Wolfram and Hart’s to make sure Spike would recover. Faith was pretty sure Fred was trying to hint she was giving Spike human blood. After Faith treating her like she had the girl Fred had just said: “Don’t worry. I can only imagine how you Champions need each other. So, I’m going to do all I can.” That was when Faith told them she really wanted to leave, and go to the beach house.

“Well, they said you came by when I was doing all that exciting sleeping, with all those pretty tubes in me and such, and I didn’t want that to be the last time you saw me. I wanted you to see me all pretty again,” Spike said.

He didn’t exactly say this like he didn’t want to rub her face in it. His lip got that sneer, but his eyes were off somewhere else. He couldn’t look at her after all she had done.

“You don’t look pretty,” she said hoarsely.

He looked at her then. His forehead wrinkled up as if to recoil from an insult and then he quickly sprang back and rolled his eyes.

“You really have to stop holding back those opinions,” he scoffed.

He had his arm stretched out leaning on the frame of the doorway and for a minute he rested his head on his hand. She had trained with him long enough to know he was tired, and even if she hadn’t, he looked like a tired person more than an undead one now.

“Take it easy, princess. I just meant that you still look a little sick after your swan dive. Maybe you should go back to Fred, and she’ll make you all better,” Faith said.

She turned to the mirror to concentrate on her own face for a change. It was easier to talk to his non-reflection. She should stop getting the highlights anyway. She wasn’t made of money. It had started when she offered herself as a hair model in prison for something to do. Who knew they taught beauty school in prison? Only the chicks that had a sentence of under 10 years could go, but anyone could be a hair model. They said it made Faith look more “sunny,” just what she needed, to look more sunny in prison.

“MY swan dive! I was just following your lead, Slayer. Isn’t that what I’m good for?”

“Well, you’re definitely not good for listening,” she said. She leaned against the counter and farther into the mirror, staring at her own dried out lips.

“You’re damn right!”

He seemed to be trying to yell that and couldn’t.

“Well, now you can go back home to the Mother country or South Africa or Fiji, and be a trust-fund super hero and you’ll never have to listen to anyone again,” she tried to say evenly.

“You think that’s what I want?”

He did yell now and all of a sudden she was looking at him. Dead in the face. She realized he had turned her around.

“Just like you think I would let you die! What kind of a man do you think---“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry.”

He backed away like a scared kid as quickly and fiercely as he had come up.

“Yeah, don’t touch the weak little kitten now. I’m not a Slayer. I could break,” Faith said bitterly. He was really afraid to even touch her now. They used to flip each other over for fun in training, and now Faith was nothing to him.

“So, I guess I’ll just ask it now for irony’s kind of man do you think I am?”

"You are what you want to be, and it seems like you really want to be the dude that saves the damsel in distress. So, great, you did it. Mission accomplished," she said. She thought she might really need the toilet to puke.

"Funny, I thought it was the other way around. You saved me by pushing out the demon like that," he said.

"We don't know that. It could have just fucked you up and made you all drained. I mean, it was what wanted your soul—the healing power of it or whatever. I know Fred has that theory that because I was pushing it out of me it saved you.”

Faith took a breath and felt like herself again because she had wanted to say this to someone for a while.

“She said it was like an acid and a base, they mixed and neutralized each other or whatever. I know I don’t know anything about this shit, but I don’t think that’s right, ‘cause she was saying’ they have to mix. The acid and the base, to get all neutral. Well,

I know that your soul power or whatever goes into me and I also know that the demon never went into you. It couldn’t, or else it woulda killed you like it killed those other things. So, it wasn’t me that saved you, or my demon,” Faith said.

“Of course it was!” he said, “We kissed, remember? So, you got in me, I got in you…so to speak.”

“Then I really could have killed you, like I killed all those other things—men. I could still be killing you slower somehow. I don’t know anything about this stuff. You should go back to Fred and---“

“Bloody hell, Faith. You do know. For a girl who says she lives by her gut instincts you have to learn to trust them more. All of the monsters and so- called men, your demon killed you wanted dead. Did you want me dead?”

“No,” she whispered.

A world without Spike just couldn’t happen. She wasn’t an idiot. She lived a life filled with death. People could go at any time, especially people she cared about. B had died, and now even though she was alive she was gone. Faith had accepted that even Angel could die, even though she would do anything to save him. There were a lot of times Angel was out of her reach to save. Spike was different, way different. He was never out of reach, even when he was not there he was. The times they were a part he was a voice inside her head. Spike was hers.

What? No! No way. Spike was not hers! Spike was B’s. It was because of B he had become good, had a soul. No, that was what Spike thought. It was because of him he was good, because of him he had a soul. It was him who loved B when he had no soul. Him who loved B, not the other way around. He had an evil in him that over-took all the other people it had gotten to, and he still had love in him. That was why he was better than everyone else. So much love. That was why she…

"I know you saved me. I chose to die saving you, but you fought it with everything you had and you saved me. I should have known better than to think I was going to go out with a blaze of glory with you involved. You save us who don't deserve it. It's who you are," he said smiling and touching her shoulders.

That was why she…had to save him. It had nothing to do with her and any feelings she had. He had an abundance of good. He was good for this world. That was why he had to live forever. No he WOULD live forever. He had existed long before her and he would exist long after her.

Leave it to him to be cool after all of this. He was all smiling and in her face. She didn’t know how she was standing up her knees were like jelly. She felt like she could sink into the floor—wished she would. But, her wishes never came true, so she learned how to suck it up.

"Maybe it's because I know I deserve it the least. Look, a lot of things were said before we went for our little swim. You thought you were going to die. You were doing anything to save my ass as much as I told you I didn't want it. Then there were demons being pushed out of people and souls burning out of people. It was pretty fucking intense. Even if you're us."

Her feet looked blue-ish. She would have to ask Angel for some socks.

"Yeah, kind a' funny how it all worked out. It's never happened to me like that. I'm never the one who lands on his feet with out trying." He smiled and waved his upturned palms around like Vanna White at the bathroom to imply something. "You must be good luck for me."

"So, yeah. It was funny. I mean it's something to laugh about. All the things you said to me, so I wouldn't off myself, I mean they were funny," she said.

"You didn't seem to think so at the time," he stated coyly, but he looked defeated.

He looked very out of place in the bathroom. Some dude who had been given a shitload of money because he was gorgeous and could play the base a little, and now he found he had this huge ritzy bathroom and he would only end up O. in it, or his bitchy Courtney-Yoko girlfriend would kill him for the money and make it look like an OD. As smart as he was the wrong girl could hurt him like that. She always knew if he ever did get another girlfriend she'd have to watch for that. Not that he had money, but he had other things. Now he would have money, and she wouldn’t be where he was. He was not hers, and she could deal with that.

"Well, no...I mean. I thought it was really low. Saying stuff like that to manipulate me. I know it was to save my life and all. Still it was fucked up, but now... Now it's just funny. And that's all that matters," she said softly, as she walked to the door trying to tell him it was okay to walk through it and be on the other side of it.

She was getting better at this subtlety stuff. She could tell he wasn't getting any better at it though. His pretty eyes narrowed into slits and his eyebrows did the perfect pointing of a mad cartoon character.

"I'm not saying you're fucked up, or that you're an asshole," she said quickly, "You saved my life, and I can't ever give you enough for that. You're a Champion, and I'm not a Slayer anymore...” she sighed and looked past him to form all her swirling thoughts into words. "I'm just saying it's cool. Whatever you did before or said I can forget about it. I understand you were just trying to save me."

"So, that's what you want, is it? To forget everything I said. The idea of me loving you was that scary to you? I'm not saying you have to love me back. I know the drill. I've done a lot of awful things. Killing your ex's m um was just one of them , but I thought you were the sort that called a spade a spade. I thought that if I loved you that you wouldn't want me to pussyfoot around about it."

"If you did, I wouldn't, but you don't. So, I don't want you to pretend you meant what you said in the heat of the moment to save my life. Everyone knows you have some weird ass masochistic Slayer hang up. And I'm not a Slayer anymore. I'm as weak as a kitten now. And for the sake of not wanting an extra pussy footing around the room, I know I gave your old English sword the occasional tug. I didn't mean to, but that's just the kind of girl I am... I don't know what they call them in the Mother Country, but here in the states two words cover it cock and tease. We know that the only girl who was really able to whip your sword out of the stone is gone, and now I'm the furthest to being her than I've ever been. So, I'm giving you a get out of jail free card, here. I'm releasing you from the things you said before, so you can go find another soul to mate with or burn yourself over, if that's what you're into."

"You're lucky you’re so entertaining with the metaphors, or else I'd want to bash your head in."

He was giving her the angry smile. The one where he stuck his chin out. She really wanted to hit it.

"Go ahead bash my head in if that's what you want. I can't do anything about it anymore."

"That’s what this is about? You think you can’t trust me because you don’t have Slayer power anymore? Have I ever hurt you? If you want to be angry at someone for making you weak you should call up your ex, Mr. Clean, and tell him--"

"You asshole! I'm not fucking angry at you, and I know I can trust you!" she yelled and it echoed off the bathroom tile.

"Well, you could win an Oscar for this performance then," he laughed, and scowled.

"I'm pissed off that you won't just let me rest in peace! You always have to push me, E. You couldn't stop at just training my body hard; you had to mess with my mind. You fucking saw things you had no business seeing. You knew I had demons in me way older than that shadow demon.” She stopped to breathe, the bathwater was making the bathroom hot. She turned to the mirror again and mindlessly drew in the steam on it. “You were the only one that knew the real reason why I could go to those bastard shadow men and have them put darkness into me. Bravery had nothing to do with it,” she told him softly now.

She made a line down the middle of her face in the mirror’s steam.

“We both know I was just good at taking pain that was familiar, and I was a champ at holding a demon like that in-- Faith the Champion victim. That's why I was so good at making other people one-- like B--"

"We all--" he began, and she turned to him angrily knowing what he was going to say.

"We all nothing. You know. You know me. You know I'm nothing like you or B or Angel, but you still had to push me. You saw what monsters did to me and you made me tap into it... You made me fight. Really fight. And, when I wanted to get the Shadow demon out you stopped me. I knew I had to keep part of it to have the power to stop you from dying for me. You made me keep my demons, and now you won’t leave me alone."

She said this more shakily then she wanted to.

"Well, I was right, wasn't I? You have to keep your demons you can't use magic to erase things that are part of you," he said softly, like he was apologizing for it.

Why didn’t he apologize for things that were his fault? Like showing up here!

"Of course you were fucking right, when haven't you been fucking right? 'I know what you're up to, Faith. You can't bloody hide from your beast.' Can everybody in the house say 'bingo?'” she snapped, “But I'd be damned if I was gonna take you down with it. I was gonna beg, fight, and die to not take you down with another one of my demons. And I don't fucking beg. I would have for you- the dude that tried to make me fight my demons...But no, you had to push the envelope again and use your big ol' brain and get your ass in here and make a big ass drama...And talk about Oscars, Leo D. has nothing' on you. Maybe he hit the water first, but your little soliloquy of love totally topped his. It was so believable, if I wasn't me I'd have bought it...But I am me, and I know you and I knew you'd push me until the end...But you know what I didn't know? You know what surprises me?"

"That that scrawny Yank kid wasn't actually nominated for an Oscar, but his leading lady who couldn't do a convincing Yank accent was?"

"No, she was good, despite that.” Faith answered as she looked off to nothing, thankful that she could think of movie land for a second, a land with curvy girls and the skinny boys that loved them even if it didn’t end happy. Then she snapped back to reality as she looked at him as he did an eye roll to wipe his small grin away.

“What surprises me is that it is the end of my little story now. No more Slayer, no more demon and you're still here-- pushing me. I KNOW the things you said weren't true. I know they were some last bit of an Obi Wan speech because you thought you'd be fire in the sky by now. And yet, you still are here pushing me about something. Go home coach. The season is over. The Slayer doesn't live here anymore."

"I know the Slayer doesn't live here. I'm one of two people who know where she currently is residing and if I wanted her I'd be there, but I don't want her. Not anymore. I just want you," Spike said.

"No one wants just me!” she roared, “They want me to do something. They want something from me. So, what do you want? What the fuck do you want from me?"

“I want you to stop trying to destroy yourself, and realize who you are," he said this simply with no “bloody”s or nasty looks. Nothing could have pissed her off more. He wanted to be her High School Counselor and close her case before he went off to be the English Batman.

"Well, aren't you a lucky vamp? As far as destroying myself I'm not trying my life is taking care of it for me and as far as who I am ... I've known that from day one," she told him, her arms folded across her chest.

"Brilliant. I'd love to hear this. It should be interesting."

"I'm nobody! I've been things but never anything permanent. My real last name I don't know because I don't know who my father is. So, my Mom gave me her last name which she changed to sound more white bread. Then I became a wanted felon, so I had to change the last name thing. I did mom proud and had to give away one of the two things she ever gave me. It all had to do with not being able to handle what I was- a Vampire Slayer. At first I was the bad Slayer. Then I was a Good Slayer. Then I was the only Slayer, and now I’m nothing at all. So, I'm nobody see? A drifter, but there is one thing I keep: the real name Mom gave me, and it makes me nobody," she said.

He thought he had it all figured out. Wrong. She did.

"Faith," he said.

"What?" she demanded.

"Faith. You always keep that...faith," he said simply as if he said cheese ass things like this everyday.

"Oh that’s cute. That’s better than the ‘I’m in love with you’ thing. Why couldn’t you have just pulled that one out on the cliff, then I would have had no problem killing your ass for using the ‘ol play on my name thing," she couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, what the bloody hell do you want, Faith?" he demanded.

“What?”

“You asked me what I wanted and I told you, now tell me what it is you sodding want and we’re square. This really ought to be the pisser of my millennium because God only knows what it could be. After all I came back to this sodding earth as a vampire to be in this sodding mission so I could save your sodding ass!” he snapped.

“It’s not my fault that you were an idiot. You should have taken door number one and come back human. You probably would’ve if you knew it was me you were going to die for!”

“Or maybe I’ll raise you one and just say I should have stayed dead so I wouldn’t have had to hear you bitching when I was just trying to save your life,” he snapped nastily.

So, that’s what he really wanted—thanks—for almost forcing her to kill him.

“Well, maybe you should’ve. I never asked for your fucking help, hero!” Faith said.

“Which leads me back to my question: What the bloody hell do you want? I trained with you more than I’ve ever bloody trained in the past hundred years because you wanted to be Miss All-you-could-be. I saved your life. I’ve killed for you. I saved the life of a man who not only had you, but the only other thing he wanted was my dust in his pocket. I faced down Alistair bloody Crowley, and that man could turn my dick inside out with the blink of his evil eye. I’ve taken your little rah-rah riot girls to punk shows. I bought them drinks. I helped train them. I’ve played nice with Angel, because you idolize the wanker. Bloody Angel, Faith! All I did for Buffy was fight a few battles and get a bloody soul. So, I was a git to realize I didn’t love you sooner, but I guess---“

Faith couldn’t take it. She had to haul off and sock him. He was trying to make her feel guilty as if she ever asked for any of that shit. She’d never even wanted to start hanging out with him. He was just so pathetic after B left she wanted to help him. She knew he’d probably laugh at how not hard she could hit now.

“Ow! Bloody hell!” he yelped, and looked at her open mouthed and hurt.

She forgot he was a total wuss.

“You know what I want?” she demanded, “I want to beat the fucking crap out of you for playing me like this, because I can’t take anymore.”

“That’s it. Well, go ahead,” he said.

And now he had jumped from wuss to drama queen as he opened his black button-down shirt. Like his shirt would ever stop her from pounding on him, “What a wonderfully simple desire. I wish you told me ages ago. Go right ahead. And, since you’re not a Slayer anymore don’t be afraid to—ow!”

“I fucking can’t,” she said as she ignored his yapping and hit him where he asked for it—in the chest, and then the face, “You were my best fucking friend, and then you want to fucking go and die—because of me. And then before you go to do it you drop all this shit on me about love, and you make it so I almost kill you. Then after all that you live and I give you an out. I tell you to walk away. So what do you do, you convince me it’s all true, and now you’ll go to fucking India with Angel’s money and say it was my fault because I made you get along with him. You suck. I take it all back you are better than Angelus. You’re the fucking anti-Christ.”

Spike wasn’t saying anything as she kept punching him, and that pissed her off. What pissed her off even more was his total lack of physical resistance, while he looked down at her with smug eyes. His mouth was all twisted like it was upset and didn’t agree with his eyes at all. She had quit punching him and was just shoving him as he kept backing up towards the tub. Maybe he was just trying to prove a point, that she wasn’t a Slayer anymore and she couldn’t hurt him at all anymore. It was funny to think that just a day ago all she’d have to do is touch him and he would have been ashes.

“Why?” she shrieked, but then swallowed to get her real voice back, “I mean, I’ve met some fucked up guys before but what is the fucking point of fucking with my life like this?”

“The point is I am not going to India. I would never go to India. It’s bloody hot and crowded. The demons are not good on their word, and why people climb that mountain I’ll never know, if they want a real challenge they should try making a Yank girl happy. ”

“Well, England then…Where ever the fuck you’re going?” she barked.

“I’m not going to England on Angel’s bloody money!” he scoffed but then he softened,

“Unless…do you want to go to England on Angel’s money? I bet you want to go to India with that Zen interest of yours. You can do that anywhere. You won’t like India. They don’t have the late night telle over there that you like and you can forget about pizza.”

“I don’t want to go to fucking India! I’m staying on the Hellmouth, with Connor and helping him fight the mission,” she was really going to lose it if she had to explain to one more guy that was what she wanted to do, even though she wasn’t the Slayer. If Spike came here to give her some Robin-like speech about how she shouldn’t fight the mission because she had no more power she would kill him after all.

“Fine, then. Do that! Just tell me what it is you really want, because I know it can’t all be that bloody simple," he grumbled.

“What are you deaf? I just told you! I want to go back to the ‘Dale with Connor and fight the Mission. And if you say I want that because of some death wish you’re the one with the death wish. I only wanted to die so you would live! I never would have wanted to kill myself if I knew we could both be here,” she said.

She wanted to grab his nipples and twist them, like she did that time to keep him away from her when he thought she had been weak. That had really gotten him. She’d never seen his eyes bulge like that, but she couldn’t do it.

“Well, we’re both here,” he said as he gave her a head tilt, “What do you want from me?”

More head-tilts would be cool. No, no, not cool. He wasn’t hers. He wasn’t. No matter how things felt. She was not the Slayer. She had tried this type of thing with Robin and had sucked at it. Robin. He was the number one reason on a list…

“It’s wrong,” Faith said softly as she touched his arms. She felt where they bulged in and out.

She remembered that was the first thing she wanted to do after she was told he was good. No, B told Faith Spike was good, and she didn’t quite believe it until he talked to her. He was the only one that didn’t gawk at her. Well, the only one that didn’t gawk because she was a hardened criminal. He was the only one to really ask about jail. Why she had stayed, and cared about her answers. She kept touching his arms to see if they felt as good as they looked. Then everything went wrong. He hated her like everyone else. It was B that probably convinced him not to. Now she had almost killed him, and if he had died….

“If that’s what you think then I will leave,” he said with a swallow, “Just tell me that’s what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“I’m what’s wrong,” she said shrilly through gritted teeth. She pounded on his chest once lightly. “When I thought you had died I hated everything again. I lashed out at the only people that helped me. It was only a matter of time before I became psycho-chick again—dangerous. I’m not like you.”

“No,” he said, “You are far better. I know that. I just need to know what you want fro—“

He was dead serious with this line of shit. So serious she smacked him in the face, and didn’t really know why. Then she kissed him hard on the mouth, just like she had when they had been falling off the cliff. He put his hands around her face and kissed back deeply- so deep. She was the one pushing him around- literally. She was in control of the fall, this time. She was walking him back, hoping they’d land somewhere. Until she felt him get shorter and heard a splash, then she stopped.

“Damn!” she gasped, and opened her eyes wide to see his. She licked her lips and looked down with guilt. She had pushed him into the tub. Maybe she shouldn’t be in charge. He was wearing Docs; those were two hundred dollar shoes. This was why she sucked at these things, she was careless.

He laughed. She always made him laugh. It was the smile she hadn’t seen before. She could see all his teeth. She held his face and looked right into his eyes. They only looked happy. He spun her into the tub—fast. Not like she was weak.

She knew when she was playing with fire, and if she went all for it at once it would be way too much for her weak-ass human body to take. Maybe she wasn’t hurling to the bottom of a cliff anymore, but she knew if she went at this full throttle her brains would still turn to jelly. She pulled back from his sweet lips, and took a deep breath and pushed him down in the tub. He immediately sat down in the tub like he was connected to her, like when she walked into a room and he was sitting he’d often stand up as if it was some reflex like blinking when you had tears in your eyes. She straddled his lap. She had never done that before. All the times she had to sit with him she curled up in his lap like a child. They said that didn’t mean anything; it was only to heal. Only to heal, Faith’s life was nothing but healing. She opened his pants and he came busting out of them like they were a novelty clown car. How did he wear such tight pants? When he got hard how did he fit? She took hold of him gently. He was standing straight out-rock hard. He curved up. There was something extra her fingers had instinctually played with. Skin. Skin was rare. He moaned and grabbed her hips and she floated into him as all the warm water jetted around her.

 “How many times do you want me to make you come?” he asked.

Cocky bastard. She wanted him to do it as many times as he possibly could, for how ever long it would take until her body gave out. So, she wanted him to do it 200,000 times for 50 years maybe. She couldn’t say how many times because she sucked at math. For sure he would not want her anymore by then. God knows how old and used up she would look then, because she already felt old and used up now. But, she didn’t care. He asked what she had wanted, and this was it. She wanted to take him and have him. She answered him by doing not talking. She thought he would be more of a talker, but he did things.

He pushed the bikini bottoms aside like they were nothing, or ripped them she couldn’t tell. They just weren’t there anymore, like the top that he had just taken off a second ago. He opened her lips up and the hot water rushed inside her.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered as he broke away from her lips painfully. Just like the healing it was painful to break the connection. She wanted too much for words.

All she could do was put her mouth where his was, and jump. This time onto his cock and he wasn’t going to stop her this time. He was going to fall with her, but she wouldn’t let him burn. She yanked his shirt off and ran her hands up and down his corded arms as she kissed him like she was trying to suck his soul out through his mouth. She’d never touched his face before, or not on purpose when she was not hitting it. His cheeks looked like there should be hands around them all the time. She knew once she started falling she could never stop.

He slid into her as he kissed her his tongue moving like his cock. She was trembling as she broke away from his kiss to cling to him, and rock back and forth on him. It was when she heard him moan she totally lost it and didn’t burn, but melted into him, over and over with him inside of her.

Funny how the one thing she wanted the most was the thing she thought she would never let herself have. Funny how it was something she didn’t have to fight for to take. Giving up all her power and trying to sacrifice herself had been the easy part because she knew that was the right thing; she knew that was what she wanted. Now she wanted things she thought she never would. She wanted to terrify herself, be out of control.

“I love you,” he’d moaned, and she would feel her whole body tighten around him. Her pussy would grab his cock harder, like a hand clinging to him, and she’d yelp.

She wanted to be made to yelp. It didn’t make her weak. She knew he wasn’t holding back. She didn’t feel like she was riding a biker, more like a bull. A bull that bit and kissed away the bites. She gripped him hard and licked his bite scar.

He knew she wasn’t weak, and that was why he held her hair back and nipped at her bite scar and grunted at it in jealousy.

“Bite it for real, over it, bite over it,” she moaned. His eyes seemed to get bluer as they got larger, and his mouth opened in what looked like surprise. Then he smiled his dirty smile. She closed her eyes and waited. He pushed her over so she was on the bottom. He pulled her hair hard to yank her head back. She yelped. He stopped moving inside of her. She yelped for a different reason this time. He licked up her neck as he had her by the hair.

“Never,” he whispered when he got to her ear and ground in and out of her slow and hard.

Then there was nothing, nothing but ecstasy—splashes—awesomeness. There was no thought—no mind. There was no self, only pleasure. There was no Spike or Faith or pain or death. There was only this moment, Zen. Desire was the enemy of Zen, but without desire there would be no Zen. Zen and desire needed each other, or else there would be no friction, no two bodies to become one with.

End