Note: My first real Cross-over so I hope it's decent, and I also hope if you are reading this you are at least 14. Maybe there's hints to where my huge Spike/Faith fic is headed. I've always been a Buffy and Angel writer, but I promise I will do the Once Upon a Time characters justice.

"You sure about this?" Faith said as she looked icily at William Pratt.

The sun was shooting its way through the holes in tinted windows of the old school RV they were in. Those holes in the tint reminded Faith of bullet holes that could shoot you out of hiding. Maybe that was why she felt comfortable loading her gun.

"You can stop asking that anytime," Pratt sighed, "I'd do anything for the woman I love."

Faith knew he was rolling his eyes along with that Brit accent, and he was looking at her like she was some cold chick with issues. She spun her gun chamber felt her brow furrow.

"This ain't no life and death, champ. This is a day at the freakin' beach, literally. Maybe some Meg Ryan movie scenes with the woman you love isn't worth the risk of whatever the hell is out there. Maybe the woman you love is way too much of a bitch for this," she said.

She only looked straight ahead trying to see if she could see anything suspicious through the tinted windows. So far she just saw woods and…She felt something grab her armed arm hard and pull her. Her body stiffened before she could help it. Of course it was him- Pratt. He was gonna get all male ego busted about the shit she was talking. She rolled her eyes as he twisted her quickly towards him- to him. Faith knew she would just look like some kid trying to be tuff if she didn't look at him. She was getting too old to play that part. So she did look at him.

"Listen, bitch," he said

His thin bowed upper lip twisted while his full lower lip jutted. His blue eyes blared over his ridiculously high super model cheek-bones. Good for him he had that long Brit lean nose and that angry jutting chin or he'd look too fake. He was slowly phasing the bleach blonde out of his hair. His Billy Idol punk rock blond statement was now only at the ends of his curled hair that was on the top of his head. The sides were short and brown. These days the bleach didn't do punk as much justice anymore. Neither did cigarettes. So, these days he just smelled like something baked and sweet along with something salty and deadly. Still it was hard to say goodbye to peroxide and cigs.

"I could put up with all your grousing for the ride. But, now were here, and you aren't gonna ruin this. Not after all we've been through to get here. The risk is small. Do you really think we're gonna be taken down by a pixie or cricket or a talking mouse? You're getting soft in you're old age."

She heard a small crack and felt his face and realized she smacked him with her unarmed hand. Holy shit!

"Wow, I haven't done that in a while," she tried to smile.

She looked down. So, this is who she'd always really be? A person who hurt the people that meant something to her. Some twisted teen in a 32 year old body.

"No," he said, "You really haven't. Felt good. I haven't called you a bitch in a while either. I know it's all for a good cause but, being so vanilla, it does get to be a bit trying. That's why we go on vacation in the sun to melt the vanilla off."

"You're fuckin' twisted. You know that, right?" she did smiled.

"Well, yeah. I'm 150 years old and I've only had a soul for 36 of those years on and off."

He opened the RV door and the sun came pouring into the car and he jumped out.

"Spike!" she gasped and jumped out after him with her gun.

She saw him standing there with his arms out breathing in the air, like he needed it. The gray barked trees around them had some tiny green buds on them. There were birds chirping and crows squawking. There were no huge trolls or fire breathing dragons or red-eyed rats.

"By the by, the woman I love is much more of a bitch than Meg Ryan or even Sandra Bullock, thank god! Never woulda fell for her otherwise, you know."

"You freakin' moron! What if we had been wrong? What this bumble-fuck town didn't have magik in it?"

Now she was the one spinning him around to face her by grabbing the denim arm of his jean jacket.

"Were you gonna shoot at the sun in that case?" he smirked, "Can't you feel the magik? Oh, right. You can't. You're a Slayer who's just all brute force."

"You can feel the freakin' magik? That doesn't mean it was safe. The Storybend sun still coulda burned you to a dust pile. You're still a vampire, Spike, and, yeah, I'm still a vampire Slayer and I'll show you brute force."

"Promise?" he tilted his head and cocked his eye-brow, "Just put the gun down, love. It's not gonna be much help. I respond better to the force of flesh."

Faith dropped the gun and ran at him. She jumped on Spike; into his arms. She smiled as he held her and spun her around. And yeah she giggled. She met his lips even as she laughed and smiled and then their lips gathered up into kissing.

"It's a'right, baby," he said after his lips smacked away from hers, "It's gonna be nothing but fun. I promise."

"Don't promise. Whenever you promise something it always kinda happens, but you always end up hurt or possessed or dead again," she reminded, "I don't need you dead again here in the middle of nowhere Storybend, Spike. I mean it, dude."

He kissed her again this time deeply, and she moaned and felt the floodgates open.

"Storybrooke," he said in a whisper as they tumbled to the ground.

"Huh?" she said opening his pants.

"The town's called Storybook."

"Whatever. We just gotta be a little careful, a'right? There's something powerful here, someone, it's not just Disneyland, Spike."

"How does it feel?" she asked as the important parts of him were exposed to the sun now.

"Damn good. Love it when you call me 'Spike.' It means you're being stern with me 'cause you're a worried mother hen."

He had his eyes closed as he leaned his head back on the tree as she touched his parts.

"I meant the sun and I'm a lot more than a mother hen, mother fucker," she laughed.

She wasn't gonna fall into the trap and say she usually called him "Spike."

"Mmm, you'd think it would bring back bad memories when you call me that one, but no. I only think of you, feel you. I love everything you call me 'cause I know what I am with you."

"You talk too much, Billy."

She straddled him for a ride in the middle of the sunlit woods. This was a first. She'd make an Edward and Bella joke if she wasn't so out of breath and already buzzing.

"Oh, there it is," he cried, "My fave—Oh—love you—"

"Love you too. So much."

It had taken her so long to say it. Too long. There was a time when she couldn't tell him. It wasn't safe to tell him- literally. There was a whole spell and everything. Now it should be easy. She should be able to tell him like it was nothing. But she still couldn't do that, because it was everything. Faith knew keeping everything wasn't easy. She knew it so much it made her eyes tear up whenever she told him.

"Oh, oh god, Faith," he cried, "Don't—don't—"

He always told her not to cry. She went at him harder. Faith wasn't gonna let this trip full into sentimental sap. She was NOT Bella Swan. She was Faith Lehane. She and her man were hard ass killers who didn't sparkle. They bled and burned and they couldn't forget that, not even on vacation. She could never pretend to be a princess because if she did that would bring her back to being an evil bitch. The worst thing she had ever done was try to be someone she was not.

"Shut-up!" she said and smacked Spike as she was on him, "I'm a bitch. This ain't no fairytale. I'm riding you like the beast you are and you're my man. Mine!"

He roared and rolled her over and went hard in the middle of the day outside. There was nothing to fear. Her man could throw down hard and let lose on her and not be burned for what he was. She loved what he was.

"You're the dark one, yeah. Always were!" he said over her with hissing breath.

And he loved what she was. Oh God! This was why they came here! Why she wanted to come here. Why she would come here! He pulled her hair pulling her head away when she tried to kiss him.

"Bad girl. Nasty thing. Evil girl," he said, "Stole me away from—Hello there, mate. You mind?"

Suddenly he stopped and started talking, really talking, not nasty sex talk.

"Why did you stop? That was fuc—"

That was fuckin' perfect! But, not anymore. There was a kid there. Some dark haired little nerdy perv staring at them. Faith was out from under Spike and doing up her pants. She made sure her black and white flannel was buttoned. There was a time when she would have just told the kid to get lost without missing a beat, literally. But, she had to keep up with this whole responsible adult thing.

"She's evil? Is that why you were fighting?" the kid asked.

Faith wondered if he was he autistic or something.

"No," Spike said, "Um, we weren't fighting. We were-"

"Henry!" a blond woman with kohl-rimmed dark eyes came bounding up, "I told you not to—Oh. Oh god! Henry, get away from them."

Even though Faith had done up her pants Spike hadn't and she was pretty sure there were still leaves in her hair. It was pretty obvious they were caught in the act.

"You know there's a town. People live here! Kids live here!"

The woman got in her face and was shielding her kid from Faith as if she was the one who had gotten in his space. Spike was actually smart and stepped in front of the gun that Faith left on the ground. That was freakin' stupid of her, but the last thing she expected here was kids or soccer moms.

"That's not what I thought," Faith said, "I thought were in the middle of the freakin' woods. In fact, I thought that's why we came out here. To be alone with no one asking us what we're doing."

"What were you doing?" the kid asked.

"Are you autistic or something?" Faith asked.

"He's not autistic! He's a kid! A kid who's never had to see some freaky slu—bimbo and her loser musician probably criminal boyfriend act like anima-"

The chick was sticking her finger in her face. Faith was about to snap it off when Spike said:

"She's not a slut or a bimbo. She's my wife and I'm not a bloody musician. Maybe we have a kid of our own for all you know, Mama Bear."

"I hope not," the woman scoffed.

"Why? Because we should all be like you? Sheltering so we make home-schooled freak?" Faith said, "This kid is how old and he doesn't know about the birds and the bees yet?"

"Yeah," Spike said, "When was the last time you've been out and about with the boy's father. Looks like you can use it."

"That's it!" the woman stammered, "Get out! I'm a cop, and if you nasty losers don't get out of here in five minutes—"

"Mom! That's an abuse of power, throwing these people out because of what he said," the kid said and then looked at Spike.

"I'm sorry. My mom is a little sensitive when it comes to my dad. They aren't married. He set her up to go to jail when she was pregnant with me, and now he's back and at first she lied to me about it."

Faith laughed. It was always these wound too-tight soccer moms who weren't what they seemed. If Faith just went by what she looked like she seemed a little too young and sexy to be a soccer mom with the salon silky long honey blond hair and the perfectly made up eyes and the professional yet Goth clothes. Come to find out she was a soccer mom cop who spent time in the clink. An ex-con cop soccer mom, couldn't get much worse than that. This was just the kind of thing Faith was trying to get away from.

"Henry!" the dye job snapped, "We don't know who these people are! You don't tell them anything let alone everything!"

"That's far from everything, mom," the kid said.

"There's more then your time in the clink and being a cop?" Faith said.

"I know. Just—just don't, okay? These people could be anyone," soccer mom said to her kid ignoring Faith, accept for the glare.

"Well, I'm Billy Pratt and this is my wife," Spike said.

"Faith…Pratt," she stressed her last name hard, rubbing it in the chick's face she was married.

"But, you can call me 'Spike,'" he said to the kid.

"You won't have to call him anything. We're just passing through," Faith said.

"Well, we'll be here for two weeks on vacation," Spike said.

"You came to Storybrooke for vacation? Why?" cop mom demanded.

"Why not?" Faith said, "You don't like our kind 'round these parts. Were too scary for the small town hick criminal turned Sheriff in these parts? So, you musta been in one of those Martha Stewart country club prisons where you didn't see much."

"Yeah, just like I'm a small town hick cop. Things around here aren't what you think. Maybe you'll be the one who gets scared," she said with arms folded.

"Is that a threat from a cop or an ex-con? How'd you manage the cop thing? Let me guess: Your daddy's police chief and you lived here all your life. You're not even an ex-con, you were framed by your baby-daddy. Why didn't your daddy get you out of that jam? Did he want to teach you a lesson?" Faith said.

The chick opened her mouth but Spike opened his faster.

"Now, honey," Spike drawled, "Behave. I apologize, Officer. She has a lot of job stress. S'why were on vacation. Had to put my foot down. Insist we take one. I was finally getting her to relax when-"

"Stay out of it, Spike!" Faith snapped.

"No 'Spike'," soccer mom cop drawled, "Maybe you should control your woman better. Put your foot down on her before I put mine up somewhere."

"You—" Faith began.

Spike grabbed her hand reminding her she couldn't let lose there was a kid there. Henry, that was his name. Poor kid. Any kid named Henry should be a Hank if they weren't asking for a beating.

"Why do people call you 'Spike?' Hank asked.

"Well, Hank—" Faith began.

She was entertaining the idea of telling him the whole story. That would really piss this chick off and blow her mind. Her kid was clearly clamoring for a father figure and more attention; and it would be kinda fun to watch her squirm as they gave it to him. Maybe she'd think twice about who was better than someone else.

"'Cause only she gets to call me 'Billy'," Spike said.

"You love each other," Henry said, "So, why were you hitting each other and calling each other names while having sex. You called her 'evil.' Are you evil?"


"Mom, I know what sex is. I'm 12 not 4. I just want to know why he'd call her evil."

"I'm not evil," Faith said, "Sometimes grown-ups tease each other. Spike is good at teasing. He knows I was evil once."

"Don't listen to her, bear cub," Spike winked, "She was never evil. She just got lost. I was the one who was evil. A cold killer as all vampires are, but I got better. She's the saucy Vampire Slayer I fell in love with."

"Did her love make you stop being evil?"

"No, that was the first Vampire Slayer I fell in love with," Spike explained.

"Yeah, I'm not the fair maiden princess type," Faith said.

"Get out," soccer mom droned.

"She's more the type that would fight and die for me. Not something I'm always happy about. I'd rather do it for her, a man's duty and all that," Spike said.

"He's saying he's kind of a sexiest pig," Faith said.

"It would seem," soccer mom said.

"Well, I'm learning," Spike said.

"Can you tell me how you did it?" Hank asked.

"What learned to be a man that can be rescued?" Spike asked, "Well, I learned that love- real grown-up love- isn't just about being a white knight. It's about give and take. It's about trusting the girl to be the -"

"No, I mean how you learned to stop being evil," Henry said, "I have another m—"

"Henry!" soccer mom snapped, "That's enough. He's just teasing you. Let's go. These people don't want us to bother them."

"Sorry," he said, "Welcome to Storybook. There's a bed and breakfast in town you can stay at. They have the best pancakes."

"They don't want to stay in town," the chick said, "They want to be out here. Alone. Away from people who can hear them and ask questions, like who they really are and what they're really doing."

She seemed to look in the direction of Spike's feet which were in front of the gun. Faith knew she was just being paranoid. There was no way she could know it was there.

"Like we said I'm Faith Pratt and this is my husband Spike and we are really on vacation and we'd really would love to come into Storybook. Really."

Faith drawled sarcastically, but she was going into the quaint creepy town. Faith wasn't letting this tight ass bitch dictate her vacation.

"Well, no one is stopping you," cop mom said, "but I can't say much for tourist experience, and it's Storybrooke."

Faith watched the mother and kid walk away. The chick looked back once and gave her another glare. Faith folded her arms and stood in front of Spike as he turned away from her and picked up the gun. Faith eyes were transfixed on the cop mom and her sweet weird kid when Spike glided next to her.

"Behave," Spike whispered in her ear and put his arm around her.

"I thought this was vacation where I didn't have to," Faith turned to him.

"Well, then, misbehave with me, not her," he said, "Though, that would be something to remember for the album."

"You'll never be over fake blonds who think they're better than you," she said.

"The only thing I'm not over is you right now," he said, "I'm an awful selfish man. I want you all to myself, not off proving something to some mum that's a bit like you."

"What? Why the hell would you say that? You think I'm like that? You think I'm some chick who acts like she's better than everyone because when I got laid once it didn't go as planned?"

"No, I don't think you're some chick. I think you're my chick and I know all your buttons and I don't want anyone pushin' 'em but me."

He was smirking. She considered smacking him again as she searched his face. She let out a breath.

"Okay," she said, "But, only if you promise to push 'em good."

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Now, that I can promise with no pain," he said.

They kissed and she wanted nothing else. Well, she did want something else but it was all coming. She rapped the rest of herself around him and he slid her into the RV with ease.

"Just promise me we aren't going to go into the town and shake things up 'cause Mama bear rubbed you wrong," he said.

"Just keep rubin' me right and I'll promise anything," she cooed with his hands on her, "We'll just go for the pancakes."

She slid her hands under his black T-shirt and slid it off with his jacket.

"Yeah right, my wicked wife," he said, "I don't know if you can help yourself."

"I'll help myself to this."

She trailed down his stomach into his jeans.

"No need. It's all served up for ya if you're good," he said after he made her topless too.

"Then, I'll be good. I promise. Won't kill anybody," she closed her eyes.

He was kissing the two bite scars on her neck. Going from one side the other with his darting tongue.

"Eh, who am I kidding? It's yours if you're bad too. Kill the whole wonky magik town. I'll still be here."

They looked like two white dotted dice marks on either side of her neck. It was only when you got real close you could see one of the pair of dots was shallow and savage and the other was deep and almost surgically neat. When he kissed the deep side she moaned.

"Do whatever you like, just do it with me," he said.

"All I want to do is you," she said as she pulled his jeans off, "Wherever and whenever I want including the sun."

"Blue skies ahead, baby," he said before laying her down.