As a joke I was going to open this chapter with the lyrics for Shaggy's 'Sexy Lady' or something equally ridiculous. Do I want to risk your sheer disgust and boycotting of this chapter, though? No, sir! So I left the Spike/Faye confrontation for the next chapter. I think it's going to be very difficult to write so I want to take some more time planning it out.
Enjoy this one, though.
Some kinda strange kinda feeling's coming over me
I bled from the back to the front for the world to see
Strange as it can seem
Like livin' in a scream
Everything is alright when you're down
"I went to your sister's," he said for no reason at all. He cleared his throat and kept his eyes up over her head as though he were still inspecting the place. "She's a really nice lady. I think I scared her, though."
Faye's eyes widened, "What did you do?"
Spike almost laughed, "Jesus, Faye. Nothing." He paused then shrugged his shoulders and explained further, "Ezekiel. She thought I was Ezekiel."
"Oh."
"Anyways, she couldn't tell me anything. I thought this might be a long shot. I mean you being here with..." He waved an arm to his side, closed his eyes and sighed, "But I couldn't think of anyone else you'd know here."
"I could've left town," Faye remarked quietly. Spike turned his back on her and walked further into the foyer.
"I knew you wouldn't," he said.
"How could you be so sure?" Faye snapped, voice drawn and hoarse.
Spike turned back to stare at her. This first meeting of their eyes jarred Faye and as much as she wanted to turn away and show him how much she'd managed to grow in these few days out of his shadow, she couldn't break away from his face.
"I hoped," he said. "I hoped you wouldn't."
Faye felt as though she were in a trance, barely noticing Spike's hands raised and brushing gently on either side of her neck, tracing the lines of it. His fingers toyed gently with several strands of her hair before pushing through to the back of her neck. Faye instantly felt a dam burst within her.
Their mouths collided ferociously and Faye wasn't able to distinguish if the blood she tasted seconds later was his or her own. Spike dragged her head back by her hair and she cried between his lips as the kiss became more intrusive.
Spike's lips and teeth dropped to and grazed along the line of her jaw. He pressed against her neck and Faye's knees weakened from the pressure on her upper body. She felt as though she were holding him up though he somewhat steadied her with a hand around her waist.
He suddenly inhaled sharply, pulling away.
"Come on." Spike's hand reached out and closed around her wrist and she momentarily resisted his pull. There was a brief moment, as Spike gently stroked the soft skin beneath his thumb, where she looked into his eyes finally of her own accord and saw the change there.
There was sadness still.
There was want.
And there was life.
So she followed him.
Don't ever change
Change
If I can't get to you
The pressure of his lips on hers was alleviated for less than a few seconds each time they passed a new door.
"Jesus, this place is huge," he said as his free hand, the one not holding her head to his, turned a third doorknob.
The room was large and dimly lit by a bedside lamp. Faye couldn't help but feel a little smug as his eyes roved over every last lush and elegant detail of its design. She felt a chill, though the room was warm enough that a window should have been opened, when Spike's arm slipped from her shoulders, his hand leaving her hair as he noticed his old sweatshirt resting in a neat little heap with Faye's old jeans.
He was so perfectly still for such a long period of time that Faye was afraid he'd turned to stone. She was about to reach out for his hand when he suddenly turned back to her. His eyes narrowed. His lips pursed.
"Nice digs," he commented sourly.
"I had nowhere else to go," she whispered.
"What about staying with..with us then? What about staying...or going to your sister's? Why here?"
"I couldn't stay, Spike. You know that. It was awful. Things were awful. And my sister...I'd be an intruder. A fucking ghost. The ghost of this poor girl who died years ago." She insisted in almost a whisper. Spike seemed to dismiss her explanation with a shrug of his shoulders and a slight rolling of his eyes and Faye suddenly found herself snatching folds of his sleeve into her fist. Her voice returned to her with greater force than she expected.
"She's a fucking stranger to me, Spike!" she shouted.
Spike frowned and didn't fight her pull. He turned back to face her and she slowly loosened her grip on the fabric of his sleeve.
"You aren't a stranger to him?" Spike asked. His voice ragged and thick as though the sound were making its way to her across broken glass.
Faye, exasperated, threw her hands up in the air, shaking her head fiercely and walking towards the bed.
"You really are an idiot, aren't you? Sex is the furthest thing from my mind right now. YOU are the furthest thing from my mind right now." She ground out through clenched teeth. She spun around, quota of courage needed for direct eye contact with Spike having been met. She set her jaw but found he wasn't in any condition to fight.
He was pale, eyes tired and underlined with dark creases. Had the transformation been instantaneous or had Faye failed to notice earlier? She watched Spike slide down along the height of the bedroom door to rest almost on his knees. His dead stare seemed directed at something not even in the room with them.
Hey I said you're godless and
It seems like you're a soulless friend
As thoughtless as you were back then
I swear that you are godless
Faye watched him and waited patiently, breathing put on hold until Spike's battle to form words was won. A battle he presently looked too weak to be fighting. Just when Faye began to fear she'd black out before he spoke...
"Did you --"
"Stop before you say something stupid."
"Stupid...?" she heard him whisper into his chest.
"I'm in the middle of a fucking identity crisis, okay? And you're acting like some jealous boyfriend. As I recall, you don't do 'boyfriend'. You're taking my tragedy and turning it into something about you. This isn't about you." Touching her forehead, she continued. "I'm tired, Spike. And you should go. Roscoe will be back soon."
Spike was literally down and Faye felt the hand around her heart jerk the fragile organ painfully as she figuratively kicked him. When she said Roscoe's name Spike had seemed to wince. His eyes blinked furiously, focusing on a point no higher than her hips, even as he pulled himself back to his full height. He said nothing as he turned for the door.
"What do you want, then?" she cried, frustrated. Her voice broke and the tears that welled up and slipped from beneath her lashes as she closed her eyes felt rich and oily moving down her cheeks.
Spike's hand suddenly seemed made from paper mache, fine motor skills missing in action as he fought with a cigarette carton and lighter he procured from an interior jacket pocket.
"I want you to come with me," he whispered as one cigarette slipped between his fingers and onto the carpeted floor. He stooped to pick it up as Faye slowly approached him. She captured his eyes with her own.
"I don't belong there."
"Anywhere then," he said softly. He quickly averted his gaze.
A heartbeat.
And then another.
"What?" she said.
"What?" Spike said, twisting the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. He quickly discarded the evidence of his habit back in his jacket pocket. He made a move as though he were about to bolt from the room and away from her but Faye held tightly to his upper arm, jerking him back in her direction.
"What did you just say?" Faye whispered, eyes wide. Spike shook his head, hands up as though reminding her of the wall between them.
That same fucking wall he could erect in the sheer seconds it took for him to blink away their connection and look away from her.
The sun seemed to fall away from the sky and she shivered with the cold left in its wake.
"Nothing," he said dismissively.
"I heard you."
"You heard wrong!" he shouted.
Faye's skin suddenly felt far too tight for the rage that filled her so completely it threatened to tear her apart at the seams.
She lunged at him, completely without her head.
"You're a fucking coward!" she suddenly screamed. "You're a fucking coward! I wish you were dead! I wish I was dead! Neither of us are supposed to be here. This whole relationship, this twisted, fucking UGLY thing we have defies every fucking law of physics, space, time...FUCK!" She grabbed at the front of his shirt, alternating between clawing at the skin and fabric that kept his heart from her and pushing him back against the doorframe.
Never could she have imagined her heart could be so ugly. Later, Faye would look back on this with shame and self-loathing for as much as she punched and scratched and spit and swore, Spike made no move to defend himself.
What felt like hours, but realistically was only a matter of minutes later, Faye fell against him, exhausted and arms dangling at her sides like pieces of raw meat. She closed her eyes and hated herself for inhaling and adoring his scent as her face moved against his chest, in and out with his soft breaths and her desperate ones.
She didn't feel her legs touch the ground as Spike finally raised his hands only to gently bring her down with him onto the soft carpet, her head cradled between him and one shaking hand. She felt his other hand, its cool, dry fingers barely touching where the collar of her pyjama top ended and her neck began as he lowered himself to the ground and arranged Faye's useless legs beside her.
Faye thought she had cried so much that all she had left to release from inside her was blood until Spike brought her throbbing and tender fists to his lips and held them there.
It appeared that tears were available to her in unlimited quantities.
Psych! (Do the kids still say that these days?) I love you guys for putting up with me.
Lyrics quoted from Everything is Alright When You're Down and Don't Ever Change from The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Dandy Warhol's Godless. Don't sue, please.
