Author's Notes: This is new territory for me, writing Spaith instead of Fuffy. If you like it, let me know, there may be more Spaith in the future and if you don't like it, be gentle...

Death. It brings people together, people who haven't seen or spoken to one another in years, but share one common denominator; the person who has passed on was a dear friend, a lover, a sister, a mother, and in this particular situation, a slayer. The Chosen One. Buffy Anne Summers, deceased, thirty-two years old, mother of a three year old little girl named Annabelle. Time of death, four in the afternoon on a lonely, grey Saturday in May, succumbing to injuries sustained in battle from the night before again just one single vampire.

A vampire that got lucky.

Too lucky.

And was now a dead vampire, no thanks to Faith Lehane who had swept in to save the day a moment too late. She'd been the one who carried Buffy to the hospital, who held her hand against the gaping wound in her chest where the vampire had shoved the stake she was about to use against him and turned the tables quickly. So much blood. Too much blood. Even being a slayer and a team of doctors that performed emergency surgery wasn't enough to save her.

It had been her time. Despite it all, it was just her time and there was nothing any of them could do to change that, to turn back the clock, to save her.

There was no saving her. No bringing her back this time. Her death was natural and it was her destiny that she died at the hands of a vampire. Ironically by her own stake. Wrong place, wrong time. Caught off guard and unprepared.

"Nothing you could've done, love," Spike said as he walked up behind Faith, approaching her with caution since she, like everyone else, was on edge since Buffy's death two short days before. "She's in a better place now."

"You honestly believe that?"

"Don't want to believe anything else. Can't."

Faith sighed heavily and hated that she agreed with him. She hadn't seen Spike in so long, partially because she hadn't regrouped with the Scooby gang until about a year before when Buffy's daughter was the target of local demons and Buffy reached out to Faith to help her keep her daughter safe. She never left after that. And she wasn't planning on leaving now or ever. She made a promise to Buffy in her moments before her ultimate death. Annabelle needed someone to keep her safe and it just so happened that Faith was a part of the group of people Buffy trusted to do just that.

"You got one for me?" Faith asked as Spike lit up a cigarette. He nodded and handed her his worn pack of Lucky's and she eagerly lit one, inhaling deeply as the nicotine rolled through her body, her body welcoming it like an old lover coming back for more. "Been a while."

Spike smiled, his cigarette dangling between his lips as he leaned against the balcony railing on his elbows and looked over the city of Cleveland. "When did you quit?"

"When I came here. Second time."

"When she asked you to."

"Yeah," Faith sighed and she shook her head. "She came calling and I dropped everything. Everything. Still ain't sure why, but I just did."

"It's Buffy, that's why."

"Yeah," she sighed again and she shook her head in disbelief. "What is it about her? Was—I don't—"

"She was special," Spike replied softly. "Everything about her. Her strength, her love, her devotion…it was everything about her that made her…her."

"You still love her." A statement, not a question.

"Can't help it."

"Yeah," Faith said, managing a small smile as Spike turned to look at her. "I know the feeling."

"You love her too, hmm?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Spike chuckled deeply and turned to face her fully. "Always been obvious, love. Did you two ever—"

Faith laughed bitterly and shook her head no, sadly. "Nah, B might've swung that way for a moment, but never with me. Strangely, I'm okay with that, y'know? We were friends in the end. She trusts me…trusted me with her life, with Annabelle…"

Spike nodded as he slipped an arm over her shoulders. Both were on the verge of tears yet neither allowed them to fall. Not yet. There'd be plenty of moments for tears tomorrow. Faith just shook her head for the umpteenth time and took a long drag of her cigarette, her body shuddering slightly as she exhaled and tried so hard to keep the tears away.

She didn't try to push Spike away and instead she took comfort in him, in his cold embrace. It'd been a long couple of days and sleep was the very last thing on her mind. She flicked her cigarette butt over the edge of the balcony, watching it as it floated to the earth, the embers glowing brightly just before it hit the ground, six stories below.

Her body hummed as she felt Spike's hand trail down her back and she turned towards him, her hands landing on his chest as her body responded to his. She barely watched as he too flicked his own cigarette over the edge of the balcony, her mind just focused on the way his body was responding to her own. Every inch of it was pure desire. Need. A want she didn't realize was there until she was lost in the moment. In him.

Because he had a part of Buffy she never had. And she wanted that. Just a little.

His lips were cold and hard against her own, insistent and needy. His hands, they felt hard and cold as they clutched to her body, his lips and tongue taking her someplace else, making her feel something she needed and didn't want at the same time. She longed for it, though. She longed and needed what he could give her, if even just for a moment.

Faith grasped at his head, pulling him back as she stared into his eyes. What was happening. Why was she giving in? Was it grief? Was it something more? Answers to questions that would never be answered, that she knew for certain.

Giving in, she kissed him again, allowing herself to fall into his trance, into the feel of his cold, dead lips that made her feel more than she had been able to in the last handful of days. Lips that had known what it was like to kiss Buffy, to know her so intimately even just for a moment, something she'd never known herself and wished—oh how she wished—she had the memories of knowing what it was like, how her lips would've felt against her own. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't nearly enough yet she couldn't stop. She needed more. Wanted more.

She slammed him against the wall, pushing her body against his as she kissed him harder—hard enough to make her own lips bleed, but it was only to feel, not for pleasure. He grasped at her body, his hands moving from her lower back to her ass, gripping hard as he tried to gain some control over her.

Faith let out a laugh as she pushed Spike inside her apartment, both fumbling and struggling to gain the upper hand. She'd never been with a vampire before, never been with another slayer, but the power she felt with him was unmistakable and it was addicting. For brief seconds at a time, in between the anger and the grief, she knew. She knew what drew Buffy to Spike. To Angel. To Satsu. It was the power, the power that surged every last of her senses and tingled at the edge of her soul.

His lips, his tongue, his body, it was all so cold, but she felt a warmth she hadn't felt in years. He kissed her with such passion, passion she never felt, passion laced with grief, anger, and lust.

She could feel how hard he was as he slammed her up against the wall. It made her breath catch in her chest as she pushed at his shoulders, breaking apart from his lips just to catch her breath. His eyes searched hers, for what, she wasn't sure. She was lost in the moment, lost in him, lost in trying to feel something when all the fire and passion she had before died with Buffy Anne Summers two short days ago.

The sneer that curled over his lips as he ground his pelvis against hers made her feel so conflicted. Disgust and lust. She clutched at his jacket and nearly tore it off of him as his lips crushed against hers in a bruising kiss. She pushed at his shoulders again and the sneer the curled over his lips as she spun him around and slammed him against the wall, taking back some of the control she'd tried to command before.

"Not one to be topped, are you, Slayer?"

"Not by you."

Spike chuckled lowly as Faith pressed her body into his and placed her hands on the wall near his head. She closed her eyes when she felt his cold, yet smooth hands slip under the hem of her t-shirt. His palms smoothed over her skin, fingertips touching lightly. His touch surprised her, but it didn't turn her on. She didn't want soft and gentle. Soft and gentle and slow wouldn't help her feel anything but numb.

"Don't."

"What?" Spike asked, his cool breath tickling over her lips. "Don't what, Slayer?"

"Treat me like I'm her. I'm not her. I'll never be her."

"Tell me," Spike drawled as he moved a hand to cup Faith's face and waited for her to open her eyes before he continued. "What do you want? Hmm?"

"I want you to take me," she breathed out softly. "Hard and fast. Make me feel anything else but this."

"What's that?"

"Numb."

Spike licked over his lips as they curled into a sneer once again. He moved his hand down to her throat and forced her back up against the wall. Their lips met in a crushing kiss as her hands gripped at the front of his tightly fitted t-shirt. She gasped as he forced her to face the wall and held her there with one hand while the other roughly forced her jeans, still buttoned, down her legs.

"Always knew you were the kinky slayer," Spike whispered harshly into her ear.

"What, cos I went commando?"

Spike didn't say a word and her breath hitched in her chest as she heard him slide down his zipper quickly. She closed her eyes, the tears burning hot but not falling and she waited with bated breath for what was coming next. Sex never scared her, never had her hanging on to the seconds as they ticked by, but she'd never been with a vampire and always swore she never would, but there she was, waiting to be taken by Spike just so she could feel anything but numb.

She gasped as she felt the cold flesh press against her bare ass and she rolled her hips backwards, needing more than that. The hand on the back of her neck tightened and she stilled, spreading her legs and leaving herself open for him. She bit hard on her lower lip as she felt the tip press into her, her pussy already throbbing and wet and waiting.

"Uhn," Faith groaned as he slammed into her, hard and unexpectedly.

He stilled, keeping himself buried inside of her as he pressed her harder against the wall. The burning tears in her eyes faded away as she pushed herself back against him, silently urging him just to fuck her, hard and fast.

Spike groaned as he started to thrust inside of her, hard and slow at first, allowing her a moment to get used to the size of his member. When she reached around and gripped on to his hips with both hands, it set him off and he pounded into her, both moaning and panting as he held her still against the wall.

She could feel the power, the strength behind him with every hard thrust of his member inside of her. It was unlike anything she'd felt before and she wanted more, she wanted to have the power and control over him in the way he had it over her in that moment.

Using all her strength, she pushed him away from her and spun around. Her lips curled into a grin, her body humming with sexual desire and pleasure as she leapt into his arms and reached between their bodies, grasping his cold yet throbbing penis roughly in her right hand. Spike stared up at her with hungry, greedy eyes as he backed up towards the couch, already under her spell.

Spike, chuckling lowly, sat down on the couch. Faith straddled his lap and whipped her shirt off, leaving her bra on as Spike's hands roamed freely over her body. She ripped his shirt clean down the middle and their lips met again in a rough, passionate kiss as she smoothed her palms over his hard, muscular chest. She pulled back when she tasted the familiar tang of her own blood in her mouth and she gasped as she raised her fingers to touch over his face, his true face. Over the ridges and rough bumps, over his lips and over his fangs.

Inhaling sharply, she reached between their bodies again and stroked him lightly, teasing him with her soft touch. She rose up on her knees, holding him back with one hand as she guided his hard member back inside her. She gasped as she lowered herself completely on top of him, watching as he licked over his bloodthirsty lips. Just from the look in his eyes, his demon eyes, she knew he wanted a taste of her, a real taste of her.

But she couldn't let him have that part of her. Not ever.

She moved at a steady pace, one hand on his left thigh, the other on his chest. His hands gripped at her hips, not to lead her, but to keep her steady. He met each thrust by surging his hips upwards, further burying his cold dick inside her hot cunt. Every moan, every gasp, every cry slipped past her lips with no restrain and she let herself go, every last bit of herself and lost herself in the feeling of being fucked thoroughly by something she was supposed to slay, not fuck.

The tears sprang back to her eyes just as she was on the edge and she watched as his face changed back with a simple shake of his head. He raised a hand to wipe away the single tear that fell and their lips met again, but this time in a kiss that was soft and comforting, in a strange way considering the position they were in.

"Let go, Slayer," he urged as he thrust into her, bringing her back down to reality from wherever she'd just drifted off to.

"Fuck," Faith cried out as she threw her head back, her orgasm rumbling from deep inside of her, flooding through her veins. "Don't stop."

"Not until you tell me to."

She moaned again as he stood up quickly, still buried inside of her and walked the short distance to the bedroom. They crashed down on to the bed as they kissed hungrily and Faith easily topped him, grinning as she sat back and stared down at him. She rolled her hips, watching his face contour in pleasure as she found a steady rhythm. Every time he tried to sit up, she pushed him back down roughly and shook her head no.

"Come on, love—"

"Shut up," she hissed as she held him down hard and firm, stilling her hips. "Don't you ever call me that. Ever."

"What then, you prefer I call you Slayer instead, pet?"

"How about you shut the fuck up and let me fuck you, hmm?"

"Sassy suits you," Spike chuckled lewdly as Faith began to gyrate her hips against him. "Or is this just you being a cold, heartless bitch?"

"Fuck you, Spike."

"Exactly what you're doing right now, love."

Faith growled and slapped him hard across the face and it only fueled his passion and hunger for her. He gained control over her as he flipped her over onto the bed and thrust into her hard and fast. Her body hummed, bordering between pain and pleasure. She ran her hands through his gelled hair and gripped on to his head tight, forcing him down to kiss her as the bed shook beneath them.

"Curious, are you?" Spike panted as he barely slowed down, pounding into her with everything he had. "Curious if I fucked her like this too?"

"I—"

"Curious if she came screaming my name or if another fell upon her lips once or twice."

"Shut the fu—"

"Your name fell upon her lips," he whispered harshly and he thrust hard and deep inside of her, burying himself to the hilt. "Not sure she realized it at the time, but I heard it, loud and clear."

Faith panted hard as she stared into his eyes, eyes that looked more blue than green in the dim bedroom light. She didn't want to do this, to get pulled in, to think of Buffy when she wanted to feel anything else, think anything else.

"You could've had a chance with her."

"Stop."

"Never tried, did you?"

"Spike, stop."

"Deep down, she loved you—"

"Stop. Just fucking stop!" Faith screamed at him, her tears falling from her eyes. "Just stop, please. Stop talking about her. Either fuck me or get the hell out of my house!"

"It hurts. It's supposed to hurt. You can't fuck away the pain that's left behind. Believe me, I've tried."

"Get off me."

"You wanted this because you didn't want to feel numb? That's the pain, love. Numbness. The loss."

"Get. Off."

Spike sighed and pushed himself off of her and turned to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to her. She closed her eyes and tried to stop the tears, tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat.

"You want me to sod off?" Spike asked quietly and Faith knew, just from the sound of his voice, that he was crying too. As he moved to rise up from the bed, she reached out to stop him. "What is it then? You want me to stay or go?"

She hesitated as she moved to sit behind him. She traced her fingers over the many scars, most faded, that were on his back. Battle wounds. She had scars of her own, scars that would never fade and one was in her heart, the scar that was left behind when she realized she'd never have Buffy in the way she longed to. Spike, in the heat of the moment, was her only connection to Buffy. He had touched her in ways she never would and she wanted that connection, she wanted to feel like she was a part of Buffy by giving herself to Spike.

"Stay."

"Sure about that?"

"Never sure about anything in my life," she replied honestly and she let out a dry laugh as Spike turned to look over his shoulder at her. "You've got nowhere else to go tonight and the—her funeral is tomorrow."

"Yeah," he replied tightly. "So, what now then?"

"We kind of covered all the bases. We fucked, we laughed, we cried," she said and she smoothed her hands down his arms and rest her chin on his shoulder. "Only one thing left to do."

"What's that, love?"

"Finish where we left off," she replied with a salacious smile, unable to deny her body the pleasure it craved in the moment. "But, you mention her one more time and there will be no warning. I have a stake under my pillow and I will use it."

"Time and a place. Got to draw the line."

"You jumped head first over the line. Last warning, Spike."

He turned to face her and they moved fluidly up the bed and laid down together, Spike partially on top of her, leaning on one hand as he ran the other up to brush the tears away from her cheeks.

With a small, tight smile and a wink, she flipped Spike over on to his back and straddled his waist. "Seems like you forgot something."

"You're on top."

"Damn right I am."

Faith stood by the freshly filled in grave, chain-smoking as she watched the last rays of sunlight disappear from the sky. It had been an emotional day for all of them, but she couldn't cry. Not in front of them. Any of them. She felt she didn't have the right to shed tears alongside the people that were Buffy's family. She wasn't a part of that family and she never would be. It was just the way it was, always lurking in the shadows, offering a helping hand when needed, coming to jump into the fray when called to. She was just another slayer, not a friend, not a lover, not family.

"How was it?"

Faith turned as Spike came strolling across the damp grass to stand at her side. She gave him a little shrug and fixed her eyes back down on the fresh earth.

"Emotional," she said after a few long minutes of silence.

"Wish I could've been there," he said quietly and Faith closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the breeze rustling in the leaves and the sound of Spike's lighter clicking as he lit a cigarette of his own. "Thought you quit a year ago?"

"Thought so too. Been a long day," she replied and she quickly stepped away from Spike when he casually tried to put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't."

"And last night then?"

"It was what it was, Spike. Anything not to feel numb."

She used him. She knew it. He knew it. It was nothing more than what it was and it would never happen again. She wouldn't let it, couldn't. She could barely look at herself in the mirror that morning knowing the things she'd done with him all night long, things that made her feel everything but the numbness that had returned, full force, the moment the sun rose in the sky.

"Sorry," Faith said quietly as she turned to look at him, his face expressionless as he looked past her at at Buffy's grave. "Sorry, y'know, if you thought it was anything more."

"Not for a second."

"It was good though."

"This your way of saying thanks for the fuck, now get the hell out of my life?"

"Maybe not the last part."

"No?" Spike looked surprised as their eyes met in the dark. "What now then?"

"This doesn't make us friends," Faith said evenly as she kept eye contact with him, ignoring the vivid memories of how good he'd made her feel the night before. "I don't do friends and I don't do relationships."

"What do you do then?"

"Was thinking of trying this new thing," she said as she turned to look up at the half moon shining brightly in the sky. "Partners. Y'know, slaying partners. Never been one to be a part of a team, but I've never wanted someone to be around, have my back, help me out when things get tough."

"And you're asking me?"

"Who else am I gonna ask, Spike? Kennedy?" Faith laughed dryly and he let out a throaty chuckle. "You interested?"

"There any benefits being your partner, love?"

"If you try for a repeat of last night, I will put a stake through your heart."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture already."

"So," Faith sighed as she lifted the cigarette to her lips and watched him for a moment. "Benefits? Drinking buddy when the nights are slow? I got your back and you got mine and we keep each other out of trouble, I guess?"

"But think of the trouble we could get into too—"

"Gonna make me take back my offer?"

Spike laughed and shook his head no and held out a hand towards her. They shook on it, neither saying another word as they stood by Buffy's grave. Faith's thoughts were swimming, racing all over the place, but she knew, even under the heavy numbness that filled her, that a whole new chapter in her life was about to begin.