Chapter 11: Anything… but That

He had taken her to the bathroom, he had crouched with her there on the cold marble floor until his legs were frozen and his knees burned against the cold. He had kneeled there with her until her heaves left her exhausted her hair caked to her face and neck with sweat; then he transferred the semi-conscious woman to the shower sitting with her until the water ran cold. She had been nearly unconscious as he took her soaking wet form to the room that Marcus had set up for her. Placing her in a high backed chair he bent down to take off her sopping shoes and socks silently apologizing to the old man for most likely ruining this expensive looking piece of furniture. It was when he went to unbutton her shirt that she finally responded with a cold hand on his own and with a soft voice she asked him to stop.

He looked up at her face, her eyelids hung droopily and her eyes still held a glazed quality. He looked back at her shirt despite it's being august she was wearing long sleeves, he had noticed that she had taken up the practice since returning home, to counter act this the material of the shirt was tissue paper thin and in turn now clung to her like a second skin, a second see-through skin to be more exact.

"What, there's nothing under there I haven't seen before." He said trying to lighten the mood as he reached for the buttons once more.

"Please stop", her voice was distant, she didn't even turn to look at him.

"You're all wet, come on this is no time for modesty" he accentuated his words by tugging on the bottom of the garment.

"Please…" she continued staring off into the room.

He ignored her ramblings and once again reached for the buttons of her shirt he got the top three undone, but as he reached for the fourth his finger brushed against the wet flesh of her scar. Spike pulled his finger back, but not before Faye noticed it and all hell broke loose.

As Spike pulled away Faye let out a screech that sent him reeling backwards across the room.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!!!" Reaching a higher pitch then Spike would have thought possible Faye's screeching left a chilling silence that lingered beyond it.

Only Moments passed before Jet Slammed through the half closed door. Silence still held the room as time passed and Marcus was able to join them.

"What's going on here Spike?!" Jet was using his angry father voice again and one of the things that always pissed Spike off about that tone was that it actually made him feel like the insolent child Jet was accusing him of being. Spike just stared at Jet.

"Spike!"

"What! I didn't do anything, she just started screaming." It wasn't me Daddy, I was being good.

The explanation wasn't enough apparently. "That's funny because I was under the impression that when somebody starts screaming 'don't touch me' it's because somebody is touching them."

"But I… I wasn't doing … stupid woman always getting me in trouble." Spike was mumbling to himself by the end.

Marcus had been walking up to Faye as the other two argued. He spoke softly to her in Italian, soothing her with a practiced hand.

"Please Marcus, don't let him look at me, I can't…"

"Ling, what do you mean?"

"Don't come near me, don't look at me!" she started screaming again covering her face with her arms when Spike's face appeared over Marcus' shoulder. Marcus straightened up and turned to the men behind him.

"If you would please leave, Mr. Spiegel."

"Let me just talk to her."

"It seems she does not wish to talk to you, you have watched over her all this time perhaps now it is time for someone else to handle things for a little while. Now maybe a good time for you to change out of your own wet clothes I took the liberty of having your things put next door."

"Whatever you say old man." Spike left with a brooding Jet following behind him, he could hear Marcus' soft voice as they walked away.

"Come on Ling lets get you dry and warm."

In the room Spike immediately started taking off his wet clothes kicking off his shoes and peeling the soaking socks from his feet, a soft click of the door latch told him that he wasn't alone.

He sighed. "What Jet?"

"I'm just waiting Spike"

"Waiting for what?!" He yelled more than he meant to, but he was just getting so annoyed with everything that was happening. He pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it to the floor.

"Waiting for you to explain just what is going on."

"Nothing, nothing was going on. I wasn't touching her."

"Oh so her blouse just happened to be open on its own."

"WHAT?!"

Jet just stared at him.

"This is bullshit! I spend all this time trying to take care of her and what do I get, she starts screaming at me for no reason and you think I'm trying to cop a feel. What the hell!" Spike emphasized his point by kicking the bed leg. "DAMNIT!!" He sat on the bed rubbing his now aching toes. "What kind of sick perv do you think I am; I couldn't save her from it last time, I couldn't…"

"What are you talking a…" Jet trailed off his face slack in confusion suddenly his jaw clenched. "Are you telling me that Faye was raped? That Vicious?"

"When I found her she was… her clothes they…the doctors they told me that she would be ok, they put her in surgery they said that, that there wasn't any 'permanent damage', they promised me that she would get better. But they can't fix everything." Spike looked back up at Jet with questioning eyes, "you didn't know?"

"Well she certainly never told me, all I ever heard from the doctors was about her other injuries. Wait I remember when I picked her up there was something, they were talking to her about counseling I just thought it was some kind of Post dramatic stress program or something I mean when they mentioned it to her she told them to shove their counseling up their asses. I thought it was a good sign, you know that she was getting back to normal." Jet grimaced as a new though suddenly struck him, "Wait, but if Vicious was, oh shit that's just messed the hell up."

"Yeah, sick isn't it. Product of some kinda sick psyche if you ask me. Shit, I mean I want to help her I just was never very good at the whole comforting thing and this well this is way out of my league."

A soft knock at the door penetrated the doubt and confusion that clustered in the room. A moment later Marcus entered and Spike watched him wearily preparing himself for another set of accusations.

"She is going to sleep now, I tried to make her as comfortable as possible. I told her that she must not focus on it, but think of brighter things like her son and her friends and family. I told her to take her time though and that she would find her own way to get past it. I, I saw the mark on her chest, is that where he stabbed her?" The silence that greeted him answered him well enough.

The old man sighed. "She is so different, I don't know what to say to her. She used to be so happy so full of life, now she is…"

"Broken." Spike filled in, imagining the hollow look that was in her eyes as they had made the last legs of their trip here.

"It's my fault I should have done a better job of keeping track of her when she was frozen, it was just such ciaos after the accident. I never thought she would make it anyway the technology was so new, so untrustworthy."

"You're not the only one who failed her old man," Spike murmured. "So don't go beating yourself up about it."

"Well" Marcus looked up at the taller men his voice slightly less weary "I don't know about the two of you, but I could use a drink; would you strapping young gentlemen care to join me in the study."

"That sounds like the best thing I have heard all day" Spike responded a weight lifted from his own frame. He stepped forward only to be rebuked by Marcus.

"Oh no my dear boy you aren't going anywhere until you take off those clothes" Spike started to smirk at the old man's humor only to be disconcerted by the fact that Marcus stood watching him seemingly very much rooted to the spot.

A sound of uncertainly passed from Spike and he looked to Jet for some form of assistance or reassurance. Jet just shrugged.

Marcus gave a slight sound of appreciation at the damp and shirtless Spike before him. "Romanesque."

Spike paled slightly as the elderly man finally turned and walked from the room.

"Jet, did Faye's ninety year old gay husband just hit on me?" The other man didn't respond instead he just turned and headed for the door.

The deep sounds of Jet's laughter followed behind him and Spike felt color returning to his face though too much of it.

"So next thing we knew she was just there a part of the ship, I never could figure out why she stayed…"

"Or why we didn't turn her in for the money." Spike interjected, Jet gave him a stern look "well at least I wondered that."

"Imagine it my little Ling dressed so skimpily and off chasing bounties, she's like a different person, though she did always love poker Anthony taught her and she was immediately hooked though she only played at home she never would have had the nerve to actually go to a casino she was always afraid she would end up loosing and disgracing her family. Her family was always first in her mind you see, I suppose that if you didn't understand that most of the choices that Ling made would seem confusing to you. "

"Like why she agreed to marry some fag when she was sixteen." Spike couldn't help, but sound disgruntled. It just stung that she had agreed to such a ridiculous proposal and yet she could refuse him so openly.

"Spike, really man have some tact, we don't have to be punished because you can't get Faye to want to be with you."

" Drop it Jet," he knew that telling his folliclely challenged companion about his botched proposal had been a mistake, but he had needed to talk to someone about it.

"All I'm saying is that its time the two of you started acting like adults, yes both of you, you both have been brooding around like a couple of teenagers your feelings obvious to everyone except for yourselves apparently. So why don't you do us all a favor and man up about it. If she said no she said no, I'm sure she has her reasons" Spike opened his mouth to interject, but Jet continued before he had the chance. "Yes, I'm sure that her reasons are no good, but they are her reasons and no amount of bitching on your part is going to make her change her mind she has to do that for herself. So drink your whiskey and stop being such a whiney ass bitch." Jet accentuated his point by downing what was left in his glass and pouring himself another.

An unpleasant silence lingered after Jet's small tirade Spike thought about just getting up and leaving, but the old man's voice broke him out of his sulking.

"Mr. Spiegel have you ever heard Ling Faye sing? I don't mean like at a club or anything I mean to herself."

"Heh, she sings off key, I can't imagine any club taking her in."

"So you have," the old man smiled, " that's good."

"I guess, if you like having your ears assaulted."

"I can't say I remember it being as bad as all that, but I can say that the Ling Faye I knew only sang like that in her most private and contented of moments. I remember when she was pregnant she would go out into the garden, that house had the most magnificent sculpted garden, and she would sit on the bench singing to the baby. I only caught her a few times; she would stop if she heard me coming. Her singing was something private between herself and those she cared most deeply for and I was an outsider not quite nestled deeply enough into her heart to be allowed access to that part of her. And I was glad, because it made me realize that underneath this obedient girl there was a passionate woman and that despite our awkward situation she could find some happiness."

Spike sat quietly for a few moments wondering, had she sung when she stitched me up knowing I might have heard her, had she been so happy near me even then. Had she sung when she was pregnant with Landis? Had carrying my child made her happy? He sighed. How could it she had been alone, hurt , struggling to survive and then she found out that I hadn't just abandoned her I had abandoned her and had left her with one more burden to bear. I'm surprised she didn't get rid of it. The thought made his stomach lurch. He suddenly felt very tired. He stood and turned to leave the room.

"Spike-o where you going, buddy." Humph, has the nerve to call me buddy after he bitches at me like that.

"To bed." Spike left the two other men to look at each other in confusion. The last thing he heard before moving out of earshot was a Jet's whispered response to some unspoken question.

"I don't know, I don't even bother trying to figure out those two anymore."

Shutting the door to his temporary room Spike pulled his shirt over his head and sunk onto the side of the bed. Moments latter a band of light fell over him alerting him to the fact that once again someone was taking it upon themselves to invite themselves into his room.

"Look Jet, I'm just not in the mood to hear you bitch at me again so can you make it short I just want to go to…" Spike turned to the door, but it wasn't filled by the massive form of his partner instead the light framed a small figure in a pale green nightgown. "Faye" his voice was no more than a whisper, afraid that anything more might scare her away. She didn't respond, instead she just shut the door closing her and Spike back into the darkness of the room. He lost sight of her for a moment as his eyes once again had to readjust to the light difference. When she came into view he almost jumped she was standing right in front of him. She was looking at the floor her pale skin and pale gown beginning to glow from the soft moonlight that made it into the room. To his disbelief she came nearer pressing her hips between his legs bringing their bodies together in a multitude of places. "Faye, what are you?" A soft finger pressed against his lips.

"Shhh," her finger trailed away from his lips and down his throat. He shivered the situation was beginning to make things uncomfortable in more ways than one. He was about to start questioning her again when even softer lips replaced the finger on his throat and his breath hitched. Am I dreaming? What is she doing? Uhhh, and why hadn't she started sooner. The soft fingers had found their way to his chest and were moving deftly over the creases of his skin. He lifted a hand and ran it up along her body grabbing a hand full of her soft hair. His first thought was, God everything about her is so soft. But his second was more pressing, Why did she stop? Upon touching her the tender care had ceased for only the briefest of seconds before continuing again. Something felt different though. Seconds later Spike realized that the hands that had been moving with such skill before were shaking slightly and then he realized that his neck was becoming much wetter than Faye's small kisses should have made it. "Faye?" he pulled back on her head, but she resisted. "Faye, what the hell…" She stopped resisting and allowed herself to be pulled off of the man. "What are you do-"

"You love me don't you Spike." He voice was quiet, fragile even.

"I've only been trying to explain that to you for the past few weeks."

"Then would you do me a favor?

"Anything."

"Take me."

"What?!"

OO! Oh my!