As the sound of Buffy's footsteps receded, Spike felt the day... and the night before, catching up with him.  He hadn't slept much, knowing Faith was two floors above him. Of course knowing she wasn't two floors above his didn't ease his mind much, either.

Probably should try to catch a few winks. She wouldn't be back for a while. He knew her that well.  Besides, even asleep, he'd know the moment she walked in the door.  Spike stretched out on the futon, willing himself to relax. He hoped all she needed was some time to herself.

And if she wasn’t back by nightfall, he was going out to look for her.

Yeah, so he had lied... again.  Being away from her only made it worse.  He still wanted to be with her.  But in typical Faith style, she had made herself untouchable.  Spike knew she was the last person who could be rushed into something she wasn’t ready for.

“Spike?”

So much for catching forty.

Spike smiled.  Mini-muffin finally worked up the nerve to talk to him.  Probably not a coincidence that it was after Faith bolted.  “Yeah.  Come on down.  I don’t bite… anymore.”

Spike could hear her footsteps as she tentatively descended the stairs.  He pulled up an old wooden chair, swung it around, and sat, waiting for her to finally make her way down.

“Hi,” she said when she reached the bottom.

Spike nodded his head in acknowledgement.  “What makes me so lucky as to be graced by your presence?” he said, smiling with all the charm he could muster.

Emma blushed.  “Little embarrassed and all.  You know.  The way I acted last night.  Sorry about that.  I didn’t mean to upset everyone.  I was just curious,” she said quietly.

“No worries, pet.  Guess slayers are a curious lot.”  Spike smiled inwardly.  He felt a bit like a rock star, basking in the glow of his fans.   He laced his fingers behind his head and tipped the chair back, balancing it on two legs.  “That why you’re here?  To do the apologizin’ thing?”

Emma grabbed her own chair, pulling it over so it was directly in front of him.  Sitting down, she said, “I’m not sure.”

Spike noticed that she kept her gaze directed at his face.  Realizing the way he was sitting, he glanced at his own lap.  His jeans weren’t that tight.  Not like he was intentionally advertising or anything.  “So we’ll just sit, then?” he finally asked, figuring he was being hyper-aware of his manliness since she was an awestruck virgin and all.

Emma sighed loudly.  “No.”

“Out with it,” he said.  “Tell me why you’re really here.”

“You’re a vampire.”

Spike laughed.  “Rumor has it.”

“And you have a soul.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re in love with Faith.”

Spike wasn’t expecting that one.  “Not quite sure that’s your business,” he said, letting his chair fall forward, all four legs now safely on the ground.

Emma shook her head.  “You’re right.  It’s not.  Sorry.”

Her gaze shifted to her own lap.  Spike watched as she fiddled with a button on her sweater.  Girl had taken the time to get dressed.  Definitely a jammies kind of night.  Spike couldn’t be sure, but he suspected whatever it was she wanted to say would be good, if she ever got around to actually saying it.

 

Emma finally looked at him.  “Your skin.  Is it hot?  Cold?  Warm?  Soft?  Smooth?  Rough?  You’re a vampire.  You haven’t been in the sun over a hundred years.  You don’t have a heart to pump the blood through your veins… or other parts.  You need blood to survive.  And you don’t look old at all.”

“Havin’ a hard time getting your brain around it, eh?”

“Aside from being a little pale, you look, well, human.  If I didn’t know… I probably wouldn’t know, especially with our slayer vibes being off lately.”

“You’d know,” Spike began, resting his hands on his knees.  “Being a slayer and all.  You would’ve figured it out.  Comes with the slayer package.”

Emma sighed.  “Yeah, I’m a slayer.  Been staking vampires and all that.  But you’re the first one I’ve ever sat down and talked to.  You know?  You make it… more real, maybe?  Here we are, having a conversation and you’re dead.”

Spike sensed that there was something more she wanted to ask him, he just wasn’t sure what it was.  One way to find out.  “What are you really wanting to know?”

Emma glanced at him shyly.  “What do you mean?”

“There’s something you’re not sayin’.  What?”

Emma paused, looking like she was struggling to find the right words.  “I want to know what you feel like.”

“Sorry?”  He must not have heard her right. 

“I wanted to touch your skin,” she said hesitantly.  “It’s okay.  I don’t need to.  I was just curious to see how differently you felt from us.”

“Not much,” he said, letting out an inward sigh of relief.  This probably wasn’t a big deal.  Not like she asked him to strip naked or anything.  “Go ahead,” he said, going against a small slice of his better judgment.

“Seriously?”

“Just get on with it.”  The longer she waited, the more Spike felt that it was a bad idea.

Emma tentatively reached out and touched his face; her finger tracing from the corner of his eye, his cheekbone, down around his mouth, being careful to avoid it.  She continued by running her fingers down his neck.  Stopping briefly where his pulse point would have been.  She finally reached his chest, her fingers lingering over his heart.

She slowly dropped her hand back into her lap.  “Wow.  You have soft skin.  Not really cold like a fish, which is what I kinda expected, but without the fishy-slimey stuff.  And the no heartbeat thing.  That’s just weird.  You’re dead, but you’re not.  Are you a fluke or what?”

Spike laughed.  “Been called worse.”  He started to relax.

“And I won’t even ask you to vamp out.  Before I came down here I was thinking about asking you to do that.” Emma stood.  “But then I figured what was the point?  You know?  There’s so much more I want to ask you, but I don’t want to waste any more of your time.  Thanks, Spike.”

“Wasn’t time wasted,” he said, standing and pushing the chair back with his foot.  “Time is something I got plenty of.”

When Emma was halfway up the stairs, Spike called out, “Don’t let Faith get to you.  It’s not a personal thing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been told.”

XXXXX

 

 

Faith left her car parked in a casino parking garage.  Gambling wasn’t one of her things--she figured she had enough vices, and didn’t need another one--but she wasn’t sure where else to go.

Vices.  What a joke!  How many did Faith have left nowadays anyway?  She had pretty much kicked the smoking one, so that didn’t count anymore.  She didn’t drink nearly as much as she used to.  Casual sex?  It had been so long since it had been casual anything, she was surprised she even knew what it was.

Last sex she had was with Spike and there was nothing casual about it.

Spike. 

Faith was surprised he hadn’t sniffed her out by now.  Guy was caught between giving her space and wanting her around all the time.  Who knew why.  Not like she was the kind of girl that made your day and gave you the warm fuzzies.  Basically, she was a pain in the ass.  But in her defense, not nearly as much as she used to be. 

Then there was the whole Emma gig.  Faith might have ‘grown’ over the last few months, but the thought of doing the apology thing still gave her the wiggins, especially to a junior slayer who looked up to her.  Squeak thought of her as a role model or some shit like that.  Faith?  A role model?

And now, Faith found herself positioned in front of a slot machine, getting ready to pull a lever that would probably cost her another eight bucks, bringing her total losses up to fifty smackeroos.

Ting

Ting

Ting

One cherry.  One lousy cherry.  That wasn’t worth shit.

 

Slaying was out of the question since she neglected to bring any stakes with her... too bad that didn't qualify as the dumbest thing she had done lately. 

She was pretty sure if she scrounged around in her car long enough, she’d find one wedged between the seats or in the trunk. 

Maybe it was time to look for that stake and do some slaying.  She had a little too much pent-up energy and sitting here pulling a stupid lever wasn’t helping matters… and slaying was definitely cheaper.

Now how did she get the rest of her money out of the slot machine?

XXXXX

“I’m going to look for her,” Spike declared. 

“You don’t even know where she is,” Buffy said.  “She’s Faith.  She’ll deal.  And once she’s dealt, she’ll come back.”

Emma just sat on the couch, watching.  Having never been in a close relationship with anyone, observing the dynamics of Buffy and Spike, in contrast to the dynamics of Faith and Spike, was quite educational.

“I could go with him,” she volunteered innocently.

Emma was greeted with simultaneous,“No’s.”

“Just a thought,” she said, grinning.

“Spike, it’s only been one day.  One,” she said, emphasizing her point by holding up her index finger.  “Giles is supposed to be back anytime now and you know he wants to talk to you.  Can’t you just hang for a few and see what happens?”

Emma didn’t know Spike well at all, but the set of his shoulders told her Buffy wasn’t going to dissuade him from leaving.

“Buffy,” he began, “You know how I feel about you, but I am going to look for Faith.”

Spike loves Buffy, too?  Jeez, maybe if she hung around long enough, he’d love her too.  There seemed to be a pattern.

Maybe she’d asked the wrong person to… you know.

“Did you forget she has a car?  How are you going to find her or catch up to her, even?  She could be in another state by now.”

“How do you think I got here?” Spike said, a teasing tone taking over his voice.  “Took one of Angel’s cars.  Not a Viper, but it’ll do.  Why are you so set against this, anyway?”

Emma wondered what Angel was like.  Knowing Buffy, Faith and now Spike, Emma suspected he was probably a hottie.  Maybe he’d come for a visit too.

Buffy’s head fell back and she let out a loud sigh, staring at the ceiling, almost as if she was asking for help.

She finally spoke, leveling her gaze on Spike.  “I don’t want to lose her.  You spooked her and she ran off.  I don’t want to take the chance that she won’t come back.  We need her.”

Emma was startled to realize Buffy was looking right at her.

“And Faith needs us,” Buffy said.  “Whether she knows it or not.”

“Killing me here.”

“Not my intention.”

Emma had an idea.  “How about he goes and looks for her, but he doesn’t let her know he’s there?  That way he’s happy knowing she’s safe and all.”

“She’ll know,” Spike said.

“True,” admitted Buffy.  “Do you feel that strongly about looking for her?”

“Forget who you’re talkin’ to?”

Buffy motioned for the door.  “Go.  It’s between the two of you anyway.”

Wow.  Buffy caved.  Emma didn’t see that one coming.

“I’ll be back,” Spike said, heading toward the door, “and Faith will be with me.”

XXXXX

Faith figured the odds of getting into any kind of trouble at the casino were slim. 

That was about to change if she didn’t get her money back.

Cash Out?  Faith pressed the button, maybe this would do it.  She waited for the clinking of her tokens as they hit the tray, but she didn’t hear anything.  Was this thing eating her money now?  Her luck would never change for the better.  She felt around in the tray opening to see if it was blocked or something.

“Piece of shit machine,” she said, smacking it on the side. 

“That only works on the telly.”

Faith shot out of her chair, automatically on the defensive.  She should’ve known.  Matter of time.

“It’s paperless now,” Spike said, as he reached for a small piece of paper that resembled a grocery store receipt.  “That way you don’t have to lug around a ton of coins… or tokens.”

Faith snatched the receipt out of his hand, being careful not to actually touch him.  Contact right now would be bad... tossing him down and doing him in the middle of the casino, bad.  “Cash is cash.  Don’t care what form it comes in.”  She glanced around.  “Now what do I do with this?”

Spike reached for the receipt, caressing her finger in the process.  Faith’s hand felt all tingly where he had touched it. 

Faith wasn’t sure if she was getting more annoyed at Spike for being there or at her body for betraying her.  That one little touch tossed Faith back into the past, when she and Spike were on their own.  A certain hotel, post-slaying…  

Spike had walked off with her receipt in his hand. Faith, knowing she had no choice, followed him.  She tried not to notice the way he gracefully made his way through the crowd, smiling and nodding to people as he went.  They ended up at another machine, this one looking like an ATM on steroids.

After waiting his turn in line, Spike slid the receipt into a slot slowly.  Debating for only a moment, he reached out and pressed a couple buttons.  In no time flat, cold hard cash shot out.

Cold. Hard.  He wasn’t actually cold, but he could definitely get hard.  Faith shook her head, trying to get her mind back into the here and now.  She tried to ignore the ringing in her ears and the butterflies that have somehow taken root in her stomach.

“Here you go,” he said, handing Faith her money.

“Thanks.”  She jammed it into the back pocket of her jeans.  “I was just leaving.  Figured I’d patrol or something.”

“S’pose I’ll tag along.”

Damn it.  “Figured as much,” Faith said and then added.  “Patrolling.  That’s it.”  Faith wasn’t exactly sure who she was trying to convince.

Spike smiled. “Whatever you say.”

“I mean it.  Patrolling.  Slaying.  Staking vampires.  Nothing else.”

“Got it.”

They didn’t even make it out of the elevator.

XXXXX